#Mia writes snippets

[threewaywithdelusion]

Mike remembered arriving in Hawkins in Argyle’s pizza van, looking at the devastation after it had happened and not recognizing the town he had lived in all his life. 

Remembered Dustin, those first few months after Eddie had died, and how off he’d been. Dustin had gone quiet. For the first time in his life, he hadn’t been excited about everything he saw. He hadn’t acted like they were on a fun adventure or solving a mystery or making a scientific discovery. 

It hadn’t been until they’d defeated Vecna for good that Dustin had started to act a little bit more like himself. That he’d returned to making sarcastic jabs and acting smarter than everyone around him. But he’d never again approached anything with that same sense of wonder that he’d once had. 

Part of Dustin had died on the same day as Eddie. And he’d never come back. 

If Mike had known, boarding a plane for California, that he would never quite see that Dustin again, he would’ve taken more time to say goodbye. 

[bigfootsmom]

Wip Wednesday

I have missed so many tag games but thank you to everyone who kept tagging me <3 <3 <3 thank you to the lovely @princessfbi, @bidisasterevankinard, and @tizniz for the wip Wednesday tags <3 <3 <3

So…. I started something new and finished nothing old. Sorry.

His parents last a week. Almost.

They make it six full days. Then, on the morning of the seventh day since Buck had been discharged from the hospital, they’re gone. Bags packed and tucked neatly into the back of an Uber on its way to the airport.

Buck wishes he had been surprised, wishes that his parents’ flimsy excuses and hollow apologies hadn’t all been echoes of what he’s heard before — “You know I don’t do well far from home, and your father has an important meeting. We would stay if we could, but you know how it is. We’ve already spent so much time here.”

Six days. Buck died and he still only manages to get his parents’ attention for six days.

When his parents had told him on the evening of the sixth day that their flight was booked — Buck was five years old with skinned knees, he was seven years old with a broken arm, he was ten with the flu and desperately wishing his mom would cross the safe distance she was always keeping and just hold him.

The bitter taste in his mouth as he had choked down his dinner had nothing to do with the pills he had swallowed, and the ache in his chest was something that ran far deeper than his broken ribs.

He fell for it again. He thought— he doesn’t know what he thought, but he had hoped it would be different. Buck had hoped their love wouldn’t have an expiration date this time around.

Tagging: @usersiren @holdmygum @swiftietartt @honestlydarkprincess @maygrantgf

@shyaudacity @eddiebabygirldiaz @roy-kents @buddie-buddie @homerforsure

@mellaithwen @bisexual-buck @underwaterninja13 @father-salmon @devirnis

@giddyupbuck @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @lonelychicago @loveyouanyway

@diazsdimples @topdiaz @shortsighted-owl @smallandalmosthonest, and YOU if you want to post something!!!

[imaginetoomuch]

Lana receives the file on her desk early that morning, casually opening it unbeknownst to the horrors in its pages. 

She reads the information at least three times, until the words merge into waves of black ink, until she can’t see that face looking at her so clearly. Her phone on the table taunts her, flashing with a new message notification just above the voicemails she’d pointedly ignored. 

Mia Fey was brutally attacked and murdered last night.

The reports are saying it was her own sister.

Lana feels - well, she doesn’t feel much of anything anymore - that the past few years she’s morphed from a human being to just a vessel, a puppet. It’s not like she can even think for herself anymore. She’s never quite known herself to have rage like this - at the world, at the system she works in, and most significantly her own self.

She can’t stomach the thought that she'll play a hand in the wrongful conviction of the girl her own sister once considered a best friend, the girl that meant everything to the love of her life.

God, maybe she’ll actually stand up to Gant for once, tell him this is the one case she refuses to take. He gave it to her on purpose, she knows that, Lana and Mia were still together when she started at the police department. But who is she kidding - she’s a coward, that’s why Mia’s fucking dead, that’s why Lana’s been in Hell for the past two years - she won’t do anything. She’ll try and argue this case is too big for her to handle, hope it gets passed off to another prosecutor, pray that she doesn’t have to see the images of Mia’s dead body bruised and bleeding, a reminder of what Lana’s become.

[jsystemexe]

Safety Yellow | WIP

RE8; Ethan Winters/Karl Heisenberg

~1k, Epilogue, PTSD, strained Mia/Ethan, Karl gets a car

—

Ethan is woken from his nap on the couch by the sound of an unknown vehicle pulling up. In front of him Rose is still firmly seated in front of her cartoons, the sounds of Bluey filling the room.

Out front the car idles momentarily before turning off. An older vehicle? Ethan’s curiosity and paranoia are piqued in equal parts. He rises in a smooth motion and checks the window, fingertip bending down one blind.

Parked out front his little townhouse is an immaculate safety yellow Volkswagen Beetle. He can’t make out the driver and a chill runs up his spine.

He’s got the door open and has stepped out onto the stoop just as the driver side opens and Karl Heisenberg pulls himself from the vehicle, purposefully going back into the car for his hat. He doesn’t turn to meet Ethan until it’s firmly placed and he’s ran a hand along the brim, but when he does his showman’s smile is in full force.

“Ethan Winters! What a wonderful surprise!”

Ethan scoffs. “First off, I killed you. Second, how the fuck did you find me.”

Heisenberg spreads his hands, palms up. “I can’t just give you all my secrets, can I? It seems you’re not the only one death refuses to keep.”

The older man is noticeably cleaner, his hair long but coiled into proper curls. His hat and coat look worn but replaced, and nothing is in as good condition as the car. It sparkles jovially in the sunlight.

Ethan frowns. “If you’re back, that means…”

Heisenberg’s smile grows more teeth, “The Bitch is still dead. My siblings are… around.”

Ethan shifts his weight to the other foot and eyes Rose through the curtains. 

“Around and not causing trouble, I hope.”

“Around and in hiding, and not planning to start anything other than our lives over.” The older man purses his lips and suppresses something, but Ethan watches it flash across his face.

The last thing he needed was this. Ethan had just gotten back to sleeping soundly at night.

“I see.” He tries to glare holes through the round sunglasses, “And this ‘new life’ of yours includes me why?” 

Heisenberg’s face falls again but doesn’t recover, his mouth opening and closing several times. Ethan reels.

The honesty of the action knocks the wind out of his sails and Ethan lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, shoulders slumping down. 

“Ok, Ok. So what’s this about then?” Ethan gestures to himself and the house and Heisenberg.

Heisenberg shrugs and looks sheepish, but he’s taken out a thin, flavoured modern cigar and lit it slowly. When he doesn’t respond Ethan continues, his voice taking on a hysteric edge.

“Ok, so you want to what, go out for coffee? Talk about the good old times when you pulled a metal bar through my solar plexus? How come everyone else fucked off but you’re still here? Miranda’s still dead, you’re free. You don’t need my daughter and you’re not getting her.”

Heisenberg interrupts him with a bark of a laugh, “I don’t want your daughter. I thought you’d be the closest thing to a friendly face, now that That Bitch is dead and I’m free, but I see I was mistaken.” His voice tightens, germanic roots clipping into his consonants.

Ethan grinds his teeth but guilt rises as his heat dissipates. “So that’s no to the coffee then?” 

The ex Lord, who had gotten into the vehicle and was in the motion of pulling his hat back off, freezes. Ethan watches the other man eye him.

“Now?” Heisenberg’s voice has a different tightness to it that soaks into Ethan’s clothes and makes his skin tingle. Desperation.

“No, Rose is with me. How’s Tuesday, around 10am? Since you’ve already stalked me, you can pick me up. It’ll be a  brunch date.” 

Heisenberg’s still glaring at him, but he nods. Satisfied, Ethan returns inside and snaps the door shut behind him. 

What the fuck.

Ethan remains with his back on the door for the eternity it takes Heisenberg to start up the car and leave. He’s pulled from it by Rose running over to him with a squeal of “Daddy!” The anxiety bubble pops and Ethan pulls his daughter up into his arms, burying himself in the scent of her. 

Mia would be picking Rose up tomorrow evening, and Ethan was honestly excited to talk with her. While he and Mia had separated, they were still on great terms, and she was still his best friend. Hell, he still loved her.

After Chris had relocated them again, they had tried to be a normal family, but Mia’s proximity had triggered something in Ethan, a darkness gripped with terror. After the third time he woke attacking her he had asked if they could sleep in separate rooms. 

At first that had been enough, but as time went on his paranoia and PTSD had gotten worse. Chris had gotten them a marriage counsellor they could talk to, really talk to, but no one was ready to hear about his fears of his wife killing him in his sleep, himself included.  When his logical mind grew quiet his emotional body grew afraid, and it started cropping up in almost all of their interactions.

Eventually the therapist had suggested Ethan get his own living space to feel safe in, and it had repaired their friendship instantly at the sacrifice of their physical relationship. The space allowed his logical mind to love the mother of his child, his best friend, even though his nervous system was convinced she was a constant threat he couldn’t relax around.

It broke his heart, but anything was better than what he had become that first year back.

——

i don’t want to post this for real yet because i have no idea where it’s going lmfaooo

pls leave comments in replies, i am parched and need SUPPORT

[nemaliwrites]

have a lil snippet from the 'godot finds morgan's letter to pearl' fic

“Are you there, kitten?” he asks. His voice, though he spoke quietly, expands to fill the entire room. 

He’s long since stopped hoping that he’ll get an answer, but here, in the most spiritual place he’s ever been — in the closest place to her that he’s ever been — he can’t help but go back on his word. 

“Your aunt,” says Godot, “is a real piece of work, you know that?”

He imagines her rolling her eyes. You think I don’t know that?

“You know everything, kitten. Just wanted to make sure you remember, that’s all.” His mouth curls into a smile, cutting through his exhaustion the slightest bit. “But the little one, your cousin — she reminds me of you.”

She’s a good kid.

“I know,” says Godot. “And that’s why I want to save her. And your sister, too. You’ll help me, won’t you, Mia?”

There is no answer. He wonders, again, if the reason she never comes to see him anymore is because she blames him too, just like he blames himself. Would she support him in saving her family when he couldn’t save her? He’s already failed once; what makes her think he would succeed this time?

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But the true measure of a man is in the amount of work he does, right?”

Or a woman, she would say, as always. 

“All I can do is try,” says Godot, and with difficulty, he stands. 

[duskandcobalt]

wip wednesday 💕

Hello, hello! I’m back with a little snippet of the next chapter of Everywhere, Everything.

I’m so fixated on getting this right and I’m hoping to spend some quality time with this chapter this weekend so that I can get it out to you soon xx

“Hi.” Her voice was barely a squeak, nervous and high and Azriel couldn’t stand it. Hated this awkwardness between them. Hated that she felt any level of unease around him.

“Trouble sleeping?” He raised an eyebrow, offering her a slow, sleepy smile that he hoped would work to put her at ease.

He fought the urge to reach out and touch her, to place a hand on the back of her neck and slide his thumb around the knot he knew he’d find there. He resisted the temptation to tuck her hair behind her ear so he could see her face without it being half hidden in shadows.

“Yeah,” Elain nodded. “Couldn’t get the fan to work and I need…”

“The white noise,” Azriel finished for her, a wave of satisfaction flowing through him at the first upward tilt of her lips and the subtle drop of her shoulders, at least a fraction of the tension she held within herself melting away into the night.

“What about you?” Elain asked, her gaze still focused straight ahead. “Trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that,” He replied, fighting to keep the grimace off his face when he thought about the real reason he was up so late. “At least it’s worked in my favour this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means that I’ve been trying to get a minute alone with you for two days now.”

[kaizsche]

spuffy mamma mia au!

i was a bit apprehensive over posting snippets of my spuffy wips but fuck it LMAO -- so here's a teaser of my current obsession: writing a spuffy mamma mia au!

(nothing's set in stone for this one just yet, so things might change down the road)

special thanks to @qvnthesia for bearing with me when i virtually screamed to this fic to her and just being there when i lost my shit over spike like 24/7 LMAO. love you paps &lt;3

“You always knew how to make an entrance,” mused Spike in his signature sexy leer, tongue curled behind his teeth.

It had, as horrifying as it sounds, made something dead inside her come to life. Scrambling to stand up, Buffy dismissed Angel’s offer to help her. I can do it myself, thank you very much! She snarked internally, huffing when strands of her hair seemed to conspire against her, falling in front of her eyes totally making her even more disheveled which is sooo not of the good. She’s before three of her exes for crying out loud!

Still feeling dizzy from her sudden fall from the rooftop, she stumbled and tried to catch her balance by leaning against the wall, fixing three of her nightmares with an intense glare that rivaled the heat of the sun.

“What are you doing here?”

The three men simultaneously shared a long look. Riley turned to respond to her curtly, but with an undertone of glee, “You told us to be here.”

And then Angel’s sharp accusation, “You didn’t tell me we had a kid.” As if it mattered to him, that if he knew she was pregnant with his child would make a difference. That he’d be willing to give up a life of wealth and prestige for a child.

Spike, surprisingly had chosen to be silent and settled to watch her with his knowing clear blue eyes that seemed to hold all the secrets and answers to the universe. Buffy didn’t know if she preferred quiet Spike or angry Spike. He’d always known how to read her—it comes with the territory, she supposed, as someone who knew who she really was before Iowa, before Ireland, before Greece.

“I so did not!” Buffy huffed angrily, crossing her arms over her chest. “You think I’d invite you—” She each gave the three men varying levels of looks she hoped conveyed both disgust and fury. “—here, in my home?”

“If not you then who would—”

The answer came barreling through the door, followed by a whimpering Andrew with tear tracks staining his swollen left cheek. “Hello, mom! I see you’ve met my guests.”

[mrnlnwrites]

can you write something with the hero and her mentor? i would really like to see that in your style!!

“Block.”

Even in his prehistoric age (almost forty) her mentor moved like lightning, and the hero just barely avoided a vicious strike to the head. Their staffs collided, the shock of it sending quakes up her arms.

She grunted. Tried to push back against his attack. In return he simply hummed in thought, examining her form and strength. “You need to engage your core more.”

Her legs trembled as he pressed down with his weight, trying to get her to drop her stance.

In a desperate attempt she struck out with her foot, clipping her mentor in the knee. It threw her off balance, but he groaned and his leg jolted, giving her enough time to leap away.

She fixed her form, swung her bo staff in figure eights. Regained control and strength. 

Sweat dripped down her temple, cool and sweet against the burn of her skin. Her muscles ached and her bruises stung, but it felt good. For a second’s respite the only sounds were the dojo’s old ceiling fan and the sounds of their breathing. 

Then her mentor attacked again. He raised his staff, aiming for her left. “Block!”

A mix of his training and her own instincts had her stepping back with her left foot, shifting her body and turning her staff vertical to sweep his attack away. Immediately, her mentor leapt back and struck again, once again aiming for her head - she ducked to avoid it – and was rewarded with a strong swing to her stomach.

The hero heaved and slumped forward, letting her bo staff clatter to the floor. Holding her hands over her core and moving into a fetal position, she made incomprehensible groans into the mat.

She could feel her mentor’s dramatic eye roll without looking up.

“Come on, get up,” he extended a hand down for her.  “You did good, so we can take a break.”

She grabbed it, shooting him a smug smile that gave her another eye roll. “Let’s do swords next.”

–

[catsushinyakajima]

KLANCE FIC RECS FOR THE NEW YEARS RECAP PART TWO

Ghost of the Future & Shadow of the Past by wittyy_name/@wittyy-name, Zizzani/@zizzani | 300k+ | Time-travel | Dual fic

These fics were genuinely so. What the fuck. Oh my god. I came into it not expecting too much and I came out of it like ahjhsihfs. I’m so so upset that it isn’t finished, that too right before the last chapter. There are so, so many good aspects to this fic. First off: the plot and its delivery. The idea of switching places with a past version of yourself is not an uncommon plotline. However, having the story be split into two stories following both the past and the present with each chapter parallelling each other was flawlessly executed. I would read one chapter where they would do xyz which affected the past, and then be so excited to see what happens next, and then be even more excited that I could simply read how it happened in the past. It felt like I was time itself, reading through parts of these characters' lives non-linearly. The KL chemistry is beautiful, the plot is beautiful, I sincerely love it.

it’s five o’clock somewhere by soulreapin/@soulreapin | 8.1k | Bartending AU | First Date

This fic was so so soft and funny. There were parts of the fic where I was so floored by the comedic writing that I was like damn why didn't I write this? Also, their first date is just so cute!

Run into the Bright Lights by peanutbutterapple/ https://hugoweasley.tumblr.com/ | 36.8k | April Fools Day | Canon Compliant

I've never seen an april fools day fic before and omg I wish there were more. The miscommunication between KL is so genuine and not a product of stupid actions. There's beautiful hurt/comfort. I've reread this two billion times.

AITA by perfchan/@jacqulinetan | 34k | Post-War

This fic is so so funny and just. It sums up the whole let down of returning back to civilian life after war very well and the way Lance shuts people out. So so good.

to breathe in this mirage by existwound/@existwound | 34k+ | Time-travel | Domestic KL

This fic is so good!?!? Astra writes KL fighting so well and it leads up to beautiful ANGST which leads to beautiful hurt/comfort. This fic is not finished but I love it so so so much.

Spider-Man Klance AU by iwriteshipsnotsailthem | 102.6k | Spider-man!Keith

This author captures the essence of spiderman in a fic so much. Many other spider-man aus will focus more on ships than the spiderman aspect, but this author balances it so well. There's a perfect blend of action and romance.

finally, you're mine by nezueye/@nezueye | 7.2k | Friends to Lovers | Modern AU

This has to be hands down one of the best fluff fics ever. Every scene with KL, which was all of them, was so satisfying and cute. I loved it so much I reread this all the time.

Even the People in Your Dreams Will Lie to You by popering/@roylustang | 314k+ | torture | angst

This fic is INSANE!!! Literally!! There's so much thought and detail that goes into the worldbuilding of the fic despite the world literally being canon VLD! This is a fic where every detail counts, and where you yourself might doubt your hindsight and knowledge too. I feel so bad for everyone in this story, and I eagerly await the last chapter (author take ur time w it tho plz)

my my, how can i resist you? by nikkiRA | 1.7k | Est Relationship | Watching Mamma Mia

This is a follow up to a fic where KL get together, but this snippet just has my heart. It's so beautiful to see the way Keith loves Lance.

what makes you beautiful by seventies | 4.5k | MMA!Keith x Nurse!Lance

The funniest fi in the world. I wish I knew the author IRL so I could laugh at their jokes everyday. They're so funny. This fic is so so funny.

I love you more than fried chicken by AsterikaMay/@catsushinyakajima | 9.1k words | Asexual!Lance

This is one of my fics...I included it cuz I'm ace and I LOVE ace fics LMAO

part one here

[practicecourts]

Please please snippet snippet

More about Blame please, I loved to read along with that one and I’d love to know what your plans were/ are for that one.

Oh

And he big house au sounds interesting so please spill spill xx

Please & thank you

Thank you @practicecourts !!!! I’m so glad you liked it! I can’t say much more except that one of the fandoms involving James Potter won’t like the ending 😬😂

And as for the Big House AU it’s set in the war of independence against the Brits in Ireland in 1920… the bad guys are the local evil landlord Orion and the Royal Irish Constabulary main police guy Snape (shock horror etc). Very interestingly I just found out that the RIC uniforms were very dark green with a silver belt and the buckle was a silver snake 😱!!?! Can’t get much more appropriate than that?

I do have a snippet of that if anyone wants to read it <3333

[mrsbsmooth]

Deuces

I just got another ask from one of you lovely people noticing I'm completely MIA from the fandom over the past two seasons. I scrolled through my inbox and while I don't foresee myself replying to every ask, I thought I'd just jump on real quick and let you guys know why I'm not playing any more?

Trying really hard to not make this sound like a 'this isn't an airport you don't need to announce your departure' etc but regardless.

There's not one reason in particular, really. There's multiple. Firstly, and probably most importantly, I'm busy. I've mentioned a few times I've got a kid, and she's now almost two, so you can imagine a lot of my time's being taken up by running around after an active toddler, working, and trying to keep some semblance of a healthy lifestyle. The hours I do have to myself comprise the second reason. I've found something else that challenges me more creatively than writing for LITG does. I know HP isn't everyone's cup of tea but the ship I'm writing has forced me to develop my skills as a writer so much more than I felt I could in LITG, and if I ever want to publish something, I need to focus on things that are challenging me creatively. Reading over my LITG fics, honestly, the haters were right. All my characters are written the same, they have the same dialogue--- to whoever it was that sent me that hate ask like two years ago, hold on to it. You were right. But I've improved. A lot. So thank you, I guess, for putting that in my head and forcing me to be better. Sometimes you gotta let the haters win, because the haters are telling you what you need to hear.

The third reason is probably the biggest, and the one that you guys assumed. I'm bored. I'm bored and disappointed with this game that I so used to love. They keep dropping the same broad-shouldered, skinny-nose character design over and over and over. The same gimmicks and one-dimensional characters and stupid clichés and it's boring. I've seen snippets of great dialogue and some great feedback but overall it's just the same shit again. It's the same lazy storylines, the same forced drama with no basis, the same lame ideas just tied up with a different ribbon, and I'm fucking bored.

I'm probably still gonna play THTH, I'll be honest. I can't see myself missing out on that. But, at least until I see someone I trust assuring me the game's back on track, I'm out. I just don't see the point any more. I still duck in and out of the discords to keep up with people I love but short of the annual Christmas fic exchange I can't see myself writing for LITG again. I'm sorry to disappoint.

My WIPs will stay WIPs. I'm not going to take them down, but I'm also not actively working on them either. I want to finish Unhealthy, but it probably won't be for quite a while. I'm sorry to those who are invested or waiting for updates. I just don't care about it any more, and I don't want to force words when I don't care about them.

I appreciate every single one of you who reached out asking if I was okay. Or everyone who's read one of my fics, sent me an ask, been a fun, welcoming member of this fandom. You are all wonderful. Gorgeous humans, each and every one of you. I love you to pieces and I can't wait for THTH to drop so we can play again.

Love you all.

So much.

Suz (MrsBSmooth / Pearlbracelet)

[threewaywithdelusion]

Flint would have told Miranda to go, but he loved her still. Loved her quick wit and her way with words. Her hunger for books that rivaled his own. The music she still played on the clavichord, the same songs she’d played when he’d fallen in love with her. He loved everything about her, even as it drove him mad that she wanted him to express his grief the way she did.  It was not the same for Flint. He couldn’t openly mourn Thomas. Miranda could go anywhere in the world and say she was a widow and people would sympathize with her pain in losing a husband.  Flint had gone to the ends of the earth, to Nassau, to a place where proper society was not meant to have a hold, and he still couldn’t say out loud that he grieved for Thomas. Not as a lover. Flint resented Miranda for being able to grieve openly. Miranda resented Flint for abandoning her to grieve alone. And mixed in with all that resentment and anger and grief and sadness was the love. 

[idrellegames]

I know we/people like to joke that we wish we discovered Wayfarer 10 years down the line when the game is close to completion but I’m glad that I came across this game back in 2020 when you first made your intro post and announced the demo. I immediately fall in love and wouldn’t change the timeline I discovered the game for the world.

It’s been a treat to have seen how much the blog has grown and the updates the game has been receiving. It truly feels like I’m watching/reading premium content whenever I receive post notifications from you. I adore how much love you put into your writing, characters and word building and I know the finished product will be legendary.

Take your time, thanks for always keeping us updated, answering our asks, giving us side content and snippets etc and not going MIA.

-Much love from an anon who’s been here since 2020 and will be here for the finale.

aaaaaa gosh, thank you so much! This message is so sweet and it made me cry a little bit. 😭 It is an absolute pleasure making something that people enjoy, no matter the stage of the process, and I'm really grateful for everyone who has stuck around. Thank you again. 💕

[leezlelatch]

Trying to get back into writing, and I'm starting with a sort of continuing series of untitled snippets set in the same world with all the Papas. Stay tuned for more and I hope you enjoy. <3 Cardinal Copia x f!reader - intrigue, mystery, flirtation, talk of death, implied dark!copia.

You glance up from your place in the corner of the library, classical music playing through your headphones. You don’t know the piece, or who composed it, but the haunting melody that falls from the pianist’s fingers turns you introspective. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re introspective often these days. The flicker of a form just out of the corner of your eye makes you smile, but when you turn to look, there’s no one there. If there’s one thing you’ve learned since joining the Ministry, it’s that ghosts are real. And you’re never truly alone.

A few Siblings of Sin pass your table, and your eyes follow them to a few of the worn chairs that litter the library. They were red, a small golden pattern woven into the fabric, but you doubt there ever really was a prime for these pieces of furniture. To you, they’ve always been like that. Eaten away by some mite, stuffing sticking out of cushions that were either the best thing you’ve ever sat on, or a literal pain in the rear. There were many things like that in this abbey. Things, and even people, so old that you’re sure they’ve always existed just as they are, and no one was around to remember them before. 

The Siblings are staring at you, and you look away with an apologetic smile, having zoned out so hard, you didn’t realize you were practically gaping at them. Having an overactive imagination can put you in all kinds of embarrassing situations, or maybe it’s ADHD. Whatever is wrong with you, you’re sure there’s some acronym that explains it. Or maybe you’re something new altogether. A silly girl with a silly mind. Not exactly a rarity.

A muffled curse interrupts your thoughts and you turn your head to look into the stacks, right into the black biretta of the Cardinal Copia. He’s bent over, picking up a book, one gloved hand holding his biretta steady. You’ve never interacted with him outside of communion, but he was kind where it mattered, but something altogether sinister when he was angry. Or so you’ve heard. Every member of the Emeritus line had a story. Some were fanatical, some downright perverted, but the sentiment was always the same. The men that ruled your lives carried something dark within them. 

“How do you think they gained power?” A friend said to you one evening over dinner, the mood light. 

“Because it’s patrilineal?” You responded. “His father and his father and his father, you know how it goes.”

“Do you really believe that?” They asked, suddenly serious. Serious in a way that had sent a chill up your spine.

Whether you believed any of the stories is another thing entirely, but you aren’t so naive to think that behind a pretty accent and a perfectly placed, “cara mia,” there isn’t something lurking behind their white eye. And you were staring again. And the Cardinal notices, looking back at you with an eyebrow raised, his upper lip twitching as he regards you with a sudden defensiveness. 

“Eh…, may I help you, Sister?” He asks, his voice going up and slightly cracking around the question. You blink rapidly, a sort of startled noise of apology leaving you, internally berating yourself for staring at a member of the upper clergy like he’s a museum piece. 

“No! Oh, Go-, Satan, no. I’m so sorry, your Eminence,” you manage, standing up from your chair as if he is a drill instructor and you need to stand to attention. The Cardinal’s expression rapidly clears, and he dips his head a little, watching you with, you believe, amusement. 

“Still having trouble switching between G-O-D and Satan, hmm?” He muses, his head tilting a little to the side as he speaks. His right eye is soft, warm, and his left eye cuts like a knife. You aren’t sure which one you should be looking into.

“Did you just spell out…you know,” you say, waving your hand up, suddenly wondering if you weren’t actually allowed to say the word beyond just learning how to curse in Satan’s name instead of God’s. 

“Sì, sì,” he says slowly, leaning toward you just a little bit, the grucifix at his chest catching the light from the window as it dangles. “We don’t want that son of a bitch hearing, yeah? Oh wait, that’s Jesus.”

You burst into startled laughter, and the Cardinal smiles. His teeth are crooked, and it’s one of the most charming things you’ve ever seen. He’s trying to make you comfortable, you realize, a warmth filling you as all your anxiety falls away from one bad joke. “I’m sorry for gawking,” you clarify, safe now in the Cardinal’s gaze. “I was daydreaming, and I wasn’t staring at you, but through you, so…” You trail off. 

“No, no, I understand, heh,” he says, his shoulders rising at the same time he nods his head. “I, eh, I am familiar with the daydreaming, too. Also. Yeah.” His hand punctuates every word, rising and falling with the cadence of his speech, and then dropping to his side, his fingers scratching rapidly at his leg. He’s nervous. Something so sweetly human, you smile. 

You offer your name, and the Cardinal glances away, his brow pinching for just a moment. It’s there and gone, an expression you can’t read, and then he glances at you, catching you in his white gaze, the pupil a pinpoint. “I know,” he says easily.

“How do you -,” you begin to ask how he knows your name, but the Cardinal interrupts you, sweeping from the shadows of the stacks. He’s suddenly quite close, leaning over to peer at your book sitting closed on the table. 

“Ough,” he makes a noise, something between a hum and a word. “The Great Mortality.” He reads the title, tilting his head to pin you with a look. It’s far more knowing than you anticipate, like he’s reading you as easily as the pages of your book. He straightens. “You are interested in the plague, eh?”

“I am. The Black Death. Although it wasn’t called the Black Death, it was called the Great Mortality, see that’s a misconception,” you say, the information spilling from your lips. You shut your mouth and look at him, but he merely smiles, nodding his head for you to continue. “The plague wasn’t called that until sometime in the 17th century, from a Danish translation, I believe,” you finish.

“That is very good,” he says, tapping his fingers on the cover, his attention entirely fixed on you. “Very good. But a very morbid subject.” His eyes trace your features. “You will let your Cardinal read this when you are done.”

It doesn’t occur to you that he doesn’t pose it as a question, and you nod eagerly. “Are you interested in the subject, Cardinal?” 

“It seems I am becoming more and more,” he says, his eyes never wavering from your own. “We will discuss after? A little, uh, book club. We will see what we make of the pale rider.” 

You tilt your head a little in curiosity, and he follows the movement, his lips curling into another smile. “The pale rider?” You ask.

“Sì, tesoro. Death.” His smile grows, and you suddenly register the quiet. You look over your shoulder. The other Siblings are gone. It’s just the two of you, here in this corner of the library. When you turn back, you make a small noise of surprise, the Cardinal slipping past you, the very edge of his shoulder brushing against yours. “Until then,” he says, not looking back as he leaves. “Happy reading.”

[dojunie]

dojun wip update with snippets...!

→ swimming for dummies; ljn

current wc: 30k

est finished wc: possibly 40k… and… and i’m already working on a part 2…

info update: in my top 3 as far as writing priority goes, stuck in a mental block with the last scene before the ‘ending’ (also possible retitle incoming lol)

snippet ↓

→ misdial; ljn

current wc: 58k

est finished wc: 70k-75k

info update: again, very big writers block, i’m realizing that i don’t actually like the current trajectory of this plot so im struggling between rewriting it completely or trying to fandangle what i DO like about it into a something that makes more realistic sense

snippet ↓

→ misdial, the lake house; njm

current wc: 24k

est finished wc: 35K

info update: high prio! i’m having fun writing this so it’s coming to me easier. no current writers block, just a little hard to sit down and concentrate…

snippet ↓

→ courtside; ljn or njm (itwd retitle/rewrite)

current wc: 61k

est finished wc: 80k-90k

info update: still my pride and joy. this is not coming any time soon LOL, but i am actually having a lot of fun with this one too… struggling between maybe posting the first chapter and seeing how it does (but worrying about people getting bored waiting between updates…) or sucking it up and waiting to post it only until its completely finished (which will be in 2026 by this rate…)

snippet ↓

and, secretly, a new contender to the board…

→ overnight gamer; ldh

current wc: 31k

est finished wc: girl idk. rough ballpark, 50k, but that sounds like wishful thinking even to me

info update: not really an update bc i’ve never posted about this on here before but here is half the reason i’ve been so slow with working on everything else… hello, gamer haechan brainrot!

snippet ↓

authors note: so! hello my friends :D i've been mia for a little bit because every time i go away for a while i get nervous to come back LOL but... i've been writing! so i thought it might be nice to post a little update so you all don't think i've died or anything

[nemaliwrites]

i am FINALLY writing some non-exchange fic, which means i can actually share snippets! this one is like...five times Pearl talks to people about Mia and one time she talks to Mia directly.

“Let’s see,” says Mystic Maya, looking thoughtful. “What do you wanna know?”

Mystic Maya considers her sister family — and that means she must respect her, surely.

“Why do you respect her?”

Her face softens like she knows exactly why Pearl chose that specific question to ask. “Sis,” she says, “was the best.”

Lately, Pearl’s been working through a grammar book that Mr. Edgeworth gave her. She isn’t very far — it’s hard to do alone, but luckily, she has a lot of people to help her. She and Mr. Nick just finished the chapter on past tense, and that’s why she knows there’s nothing wrong in what Mystic Maya just said. 

‘Sis was the best’. Not ‘Sis is the best’. Because she isn’t anything, anymore.

“You were too young to remember when she left,” says Mystic Maya. “But it was really hard on me. My…my mom was already gone, and for a long time, Sis was all I had.”

Technically, Pearl knows, that isn’t quite true. Her own mother was still here in the village, wasn’t she? But that’s another thing she’s been learning lately, especially when Mr. Nick lets her stand by his side in court. Sometimes, when people say things, they mean something else entirely.

Even though Mother was here in the village, that doesn’t mean she was here for Mystic Maya.