Wait I think I totally forgot to attach the photo. XD

<3 Fidelity 

Haha, whoops, I'm kind of the worst at posting updates on time– sorry about that! This update is also a little on the short side in my opinion (3 pages instead of 4) but nothing like the last one. I typed some of it as I was working the election last Tuesday, in between registering voters, so there might be some errors. I tried to proofread it, but it definitely isn't perfect. Also! We are officially at the end of the typed-up sections, meaning that at some point during the week I'll need to remember to type up the story so I can get it posted. That might result in some late posts, but I'll try my best.

@Quill, yep! It did get pretty intense. If I could rewrite that whole section, I would. It's not terrible, it's just… I've realized that quite a number of my stories revolve around a violent moment, and I don't treat it as seriously as I should. Violence, especially attacks like the one in Crow's Coffee, is a very serious thing, and I wish I'd written about it differently a year and a half ago. I may rewrite this story sometime, since I feel like there's a lot of stuff I could polish, but… one thing at a time. Anyway! I'm glad you enjoyed Feroc and Ty's story– even though it's a little violent as well, I thought it made a nice reprieve from the seriousness that is Crow's Coffee right now.

@Fidelity, *screams* *screams LOUDER* ahhhh! I seriously love that! I love how you layered the markers, the whole thing just honestly looks incredible. And you picked up on the fact that Roman's not white, too, which I don't know if I ever mentioned but I definitely should have. It's perfect! (And I use a different brand of markers than Ohuhu, but I did almost buy Ohuhus and i've heard good things about them. Maybe Win uses them? Not sure.)

~~~

I wake up the next morning to an ear-splitting amount of pain. I bite my lip to keep from screaming. How in all claw’s glory did I do this yesterday? I try to shift, even a little bit, but the feeling of the sheets against my broken ankle is too much. I know I can’t do this alone. I use the landline by my bed to call the one person I know I can trust and who can trust me. My sister.

—

“Girl, I haven’t heard from you in ages!” Emmira says, bursting in the door. “I was so surprised when you calle—” she cuts off abruptly as she sees me.

“Holy. Friggin. Claws. Angel. Who did this to you? Are you okay? I mean obviously you’re not, that was a stupid question. I’m sorry. But, Angel— who did this to you?”

“I— I can’t tell you,” I say, fighting back tears of pain as I push myself into a sitting position. Everything hurts— I think my finger, ankle, and nose are almost certainly broken. From the pain in my ribs every time I breathe, I think I cracked a few ribs, too, not to mention the bruises and sprains. I can barely see out of one of my eyes, it’s so swollen.

Emmira hesitates. “Angel, this… you’re not part of a gang or something are you? Nothing illegal?”

“No, no, no gangs,” I assure her. “And nothing illegal.”

“Then why can’t you tell me?” Emmira says in exasperation.

“Please, just— don’t. Don’t go there. I need your help, Emmy. Please.”

Emmira hesitates a second more, then nods. “I’d do anything for you, Ang. You know that.” She walks forward and sits gingerly on the end of my bed. “Now tell me where it hurts,” she orders me.

“Everywhere,” I say meekly, and she sighs.

“That doesn’t help, Ang. Let me see.” She puts her hands on my shoulders and closes her eyes. I feel her earth magic sensing my injuries. She opens her eyes.

“Holy claws, Ang, you weren’t kidding, you really do hurt everywhere. Let me do a more extensive probe and I’ll help you from there, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree. “Thank you, Emmy.”

“Of course, Ang.”

—

An hour later, Emmira’s taken full stock of my injuries and improved the worst of them. I’m down from a black eye, two cracked ribs, a broken nose, ankle, one finger, swollen and split lip, and heavy body-wide bruising to a smaller black eye, badly sprained ribs, ankle, nose, and finger, and the same body-wide bruising and split lip. Emmira sits back, breathing heavily.

“It’s not perfect, but you’ll live,” Emmira says, wiping her hand across her forehead.

“Thank you, Emmy,” I say again. “Really. Thanks.”

“You can prove your thankfulness by staying in bed,” she says mock-sternly. “I’ll be coming when I can to check up on you. I’ll bring some wrapping, too, so you can at least be mobile soon. And look, I know you don’t want to tell me what happened, but— be careful, okay?”

“Alright. Bye, Emmy.”

“Bye, Angel.” My sister leaves my apartment, closing the door behind her such a soft click. I may myself back down gently on the bed and stare at the ceiling. I pass most of the day that way, lost in my own thoughts. I stay like that until Emmira lets herself back in to the apartment with an armful of shopping bags.

“Hey there,” she greets me, dumping the bags on my kitchen table and pulling things out as she talks. “I got you some basic medical stuff you’ll need— finger splint, ankle brace, gauze, painkillers— as well as some easy microwaveable food, since I figure you won’t want to be up and on your feet too much. Oh, speaking of— I also got you a pair of crutches, so hopefully you should be able to hobble around your apartment a bit.” She shoots me a smile. “Love you, Ang.”

“Love you too, Emmy,” I reply. She grabs the finger splint, ankle brace, gauze, and crutches and brings them over to me. She leans the crutches against my bed, then helps me put on the casts. It’s a slow, painful process, but together, we manage it. Emmira also winds gauze around my ribs, lips, and the worst of my bruising and cuts, including my temples. Then she hands me the crutches and helps me steady myself as I swing my way to the kitchen table. I ease into a chair, and Emmira unwraps one of the meals and pops it into the microwave. Then she sits down across from me, puts her elbows on the table, and sets her head in her folded hands.

“So,” she says.

“So,” I reply.

“I know you don’t want to talk about what happened—“ she starts, and I groan.

“But I think it’s important that I have a little bit of basis here. I’m assuming there was more than one attacker.”

“Yes, there was more than one.”

“Was it drugs? Did you owe them money?” Emmira asks, watching me carefully.

My mouth drops open. “No! Claws, no. No to both of those.”

“Did you steal someone else’s man?” Emmira asks. Her eyes widen as I blush. “Oh my claws, you did! You’re blushing!”

“No, no, I didn’t! Yes, there’s a guy, but I didn’t steal him from anyone. I think.” I add that last part as I think of Margie. Emmira opens her mouth to ask more questions but I cut her off. 

“Please, Emmy. Just drop it.”

She hesitantly nods. “Alright, fine.”

“Thank you,” I cry. But then another thought strikes me. “It… it might be better if you didn’t come back here.” She opens her mouth to argue but I hurry on. “I don’t want you anywhere near this mess. You got me everything I need to be here until this stuff heals. So please, Emmy, just forget you ever saw me like this.”

She eyes me, and understanding dawns on her face. “They threatened you,” she says softly. “That’s why you want me to leave. That’s why you called me instead of going to a hospital.” She considers me, my broken state, my pleading eyes. Then she stands and impulsively hugs me. 

“Only for you, Ang,” she says into my shoulder, then collects her things and leaves. It’s only when the microwave starts beeping that I realize I’m still sitting there, tears streaming down my face.

~~~

So, there you have it! Next update picks back up a bit, and our beloved Roman comes back into the picture. I think there's only one or two more updates, then an epilogue! I'm a little torn on how I want to split the story– the remaining plot is a little too long for just one update and an epilogue, but there isn't really a good place to split it. I might split it near the end and then add in another extra– I might explain the magical system a little more, or draw something, or post a one-shot. Once I type it up and take a look at the length, I'll let you guys know. Anyways! Happy reading, and I wish you all the best! Stay safe y'all! <3

~Starseeker 

First of all, I'm the worst at posting things on time. Sorry, y'all. 

@Kitten, nope, Angel's never given any personal information to Roman, besides her place of work. That makes this next chapter all the more interesting…

I'd also like to say that I had an alarm set on my phone to post this at noon, but then I just ignored it. Sorry y'all. I'm also rewriting this section of the story as I go to make it make more sense and wrap up some loose ends. So this isn't a fantastic ending spot, but it's already wickedly long and it'll be too long with the rest. Story should finish on Tuesday, epilogue, Q&A, and voting on Friday, and then a new chapter of the new voted story on the following Tuesday!

~~~

About four more days pass— the hours blurring into each other. I shower when I feel gross, eat when I feel hungry. I read every book in my apartment and some e-books too. I watch reality television. I stare out the window. Just an average, everyday routine. 

On the evening of the fourth day, a knock sounds at my door. My head shoots up. It could be Emmira, I suppose, coming to check up on me. But then again, it might not be. I pull myself out of my chair, tugging up the hood of my sweatshirt to hide my unwashed hair, and grab the first thing I can find to defend myself— a frying pan. Then I walk to the door and call, “Who is it?”

“It’s, uh— it’s Roman,” Roman calls from the other side of the door. Despite Jean-Briault’s warning to stay away from Roman, butterflies swirl in my stomach at the sound of his voice. “Can I come in?” He continues, and a floorboard creaks outside, like he’s shifted his weight.

“No!” I blurt out.

Again the silence and the creaking.

“Why not?” Roman asks. “Did I— did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if something I did made you uncomfortable, that was never my intention and I—“

“Roman, it’s fine,” I cut him off. “It’s nothing you did, seriously. I don’t regret anything and I definitely have the presence of mind to be able to tell you to stop if I did.” I’m supposed to be letting him go, but… I can’t. Not like this. I’ll find a way to make him stay away, but I won’t let him hate me or blame himself.

“That’s good to know. Can I come in, then?” Roman replies, relief evident in his voice.

“Still no. You’re not coming in.”

“Can you just come out then? I need to talk to you,” he says. “Please?”

“No,” I reply again, more firmly this time. “Just go away.”

Now it’s his turn to say, “No.”

“Please, Roman. Just leave. I can’t let you in,” I beg him. “Please, Roman.”

“If I can’t come in, can you please come out?” He asks. “I miss you. I want to see you.”

“No!” I exclaim. “Just go away.”

“Fine,” he says tiredly. “I’ll stop bothering you.”

“Thanks, Roman. And I’m sorry.”

 – – –

A while later, I put down my novel and stretch. But then I wrinkle my nose. I haven’t taken out the trash since before I got injured and it’s really starting to smell. With a sigh, I gather up the trash and put it in a large black trash bag. I limp to my door and open it, tugging my sweatshirt hood over my head to hide the worst of the bruising and bandages. I step outside, then turn and lock the door behind me. As I turn back around, though, I yelp. Roman is sitting on the ground next to my front door, slumped and apparently sleeping. At my yelp, he jerks awake.

“Roman? What the heck?” I yell. “I told you to go away!”

“And I told you I’d stop bothering you!” He retorts, scrambling to his feet. “I never said I’d leave!”

I shake my head in exasperation. “Roman, I won’t talk to you. I can’t. Just forget all about me and go.”

“I can’t!” He roars. “I can’t let you go, Angel. Claws, not like this. Please.”

As I turn to go, he reaches out and grabs my wrist, right over the bruises. I flinch in pain, and he immediately lets go.

“Claws, Angel, I’m so sorry,” he says, eyes widening. “I didn’t— I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“It wasn’t you,” I say without thinking. He stares at me.

“…What?” He breathes.

I flinch. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said anything at all to you. I’m sorry, I have to go. Goodbye.”

“Claws, Angel girl, did someone hurt you? Is that why you don’t want to see me?” He takes a step to intercept my leaving, and I flinch again. He takes a careful step backward.

“If you don’t leave right now,” I say shakily. “I’m calling the police.” I pull out my phone and type on the screen, then shove it in his face for emphasis. His eyes widen and dart to the security cameras on either side of the hallway. Then he raises his hands and takes another step back.

“I understand,” he says, meeting my eyes. “I won’t bother you again.” Then he turns and walks away. I let out a breath and sag against the wall, shakily deleting the note I typed and shoved in his face— trash. 10 pm.

– – –

Later that night, I exit my apartment, wearing a nondescript black hoodie with the hood pulled up and grey sweatpants. I use my crutches this time since I don’t have a bag of trash to manage. I make my way down to the back alley behind the apartment building where the trash bins are— and the security cameras aren’t. I don’t know how Jean-Briault, and by extension, Mr. LaFranca, are having me monitored, but it’s safe to assume that the security cameras in my apartment building are part of that monitoring. As I enter the alley, the tap of my crutches and the whistling of the wind are the only sounds.

“Roman?” I call quietly. Maybe he didn’t show.

“Angel girl,” he replies, stepping out from behind one of the bins, relief evident in his voice. He takes in my crutches and my uneven posture and his smile fades.

“Holy claws— what happened?” He demands.

“I got attacked. But I’m fine, really.”

“No, you’re not,” Roman argues. “You’re on crutches. And what little of you I can see seems pretty beat up.”

“Okay, whatever. But all of my bones are back in their original places now, so I’m calling that ‘fine’.”

He gawks at me. “You had broken bones? Claws.”

I figure I might as well tell him the truth. “A broken nose, ankle, and finger, yeah. Also two cracked ribs and bruising pretty much everywhere, internal as well as external.”

He stands in front of me, jaw opening and then closing as he stares at me. He swears, long and low. Finally he speaks.

“Who did this to you.” It’s not a question.

“My old boss. Pierre LaFranca. Well, his cronies, anyway. It’s because I quit— I made him look like a fool, apparently.”

“When?”

“Right after I left you. Jean-Briault— the head of security— held a gun to my back and forced me into an alley. They were waiting for me there.” I swallow. His face has changed from one of hurt to one of calm, lethal rage.

“They threatened you,” he says. Again, not a question. “That’s why you didn’t find help. Claws dang it, Angel— I would have protected you!”

“But you can’t,” I say, my voice breaking. I swing my way over to a trash bin and perch on top. “Claws, Roman, you don’t know how much danger I just put you in. They said that if I told anyone, they’d finish what they started.” I swallow. “And they said that if I told you or ever saw you again, they’d do the same.” I bury my head in my hands.

“This is all my fault.” Roman’s voice cracks as he says it.

“It’s not your fault that you didn’t walk me back to my apartment after I got fired,” I say tiredly, rubbing my temples with my head still in my hands. “It would have been two against four, anyway. Not a fair fight and we both would look like me.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Roman says haltingly. “It’s my fault you got fired in the first place, I think.”

I finally lift my head and look at him. “…What?”

He looks incredibly guilty. “I’m going to tell you something, Angel, but you can’t tell anyone, because I’m definitely breaking at least a dozen confidentiality laws by telling you this, but— I’m an agent, Angel girl.” 

~~~

Yoooooo it's another cliffhanger!! Sorry not sorry. See y'all on Tuesday! Stay safe and healthy!

~Starseeker 

FIRST OF ALL, I'M SO EXCITED, THIS IS THE LAST OFFICIAL CHAPTER OF CROW'S COFFEE! So much happens in this one that I'll get into in a little bit, but just know that this is the last one. On Friday, I'll post the short epilogue, the answers to whatever questions you have (more about that later, too), and the voting for the new short stories.

@DG, I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! 😀 I hope you like the conclusion!

@Quill, You'll get your wish, as this is in fact the end (minus the epilogue)! Be prepared for, like, a truckload of more twists though… MWAHAHA

@Kitten, yeah, it's… definitely unexpected. The story really takes a sharp left turn.

Alright, so, let's talk about today's update. First of all, I'm posting it at 10:40 Monday night so that I can be certain it'll be there for you tomorrow. I have band camp tomorrow morning and I'm not sure how that will affect my will to post it. I was up until midnight last night typing the rest of the story up. I also rewrote pretty much the entire thing until the "- – -", because I re-read it and it just didn't wrap up all the loose ends like I wanted it to. So there is also a new trigger warning for potion mentions in this chapter. I don't go into the specifics, but it's a magical enhancing potion. Which is why the Department of Magical Affairs (DMA for short; it's basically the magic FBI) is concerned about the potion. (You'll need to remember that acronym; it pops up once and I don't explain it within the confines of the story.) The changes aren't anything you need to worry about; I basically just septupled (x7) the length of the section (changing it from 15 sentences to 105 <lol I literally guessed how much I expanded it but then I did the math AND I WAS RIGHT I SEPTUPLED IT OMC>) and tied up some loose ends. Honestly, it's more enjoyable to read this way. Have fun!

~~~

He looks incredibly guilty. “I’m going to tell you something, Angel, but you can’t tell anyone, because I’m definitely breaking at least a dozen confidentiality laws by telling you this, but— I’m an agent, Angel girl.” He looks at me like this should mean something to me.

“Like— like the secret kind? Like the song by Johnny Rivers? ‘Secret Agent Man’?” I start singing the song for him, but trail off when his expression doesn’t change. “Oh my claws, you’re serious. Dang.”

“My name is Agent Aaron Hall. I’m DMA agent 30745. I’m here on an assignment investigating a potion ring originating in Mr. LaFranca’s company, but operating through local coffee shops. Tonya is my partner for this op.”

I sit back on the trashcan. “Holy claws. Wow. You really are serious. Claws.”

“Remember that day that I came in with a busted hand, and you un-melted the ice?” At my nod, he continues. “I wasn’t lying— I did fall off my Harley. But I was escaping members of the potion cartel at the time. I thought I was careful, but someone must have seen at least part of my face, and put two and two together when they saw me drop you off.”

“Jared,” I realize, with a sinking feeling in my stomach. “He’s at the desk next to mine. A little under six foot, brown hair, hazel eyes, earth magic. He’s been after my position for the longest time, and when I quit, he made a comment that seemed odd to me at the time.” I tell him what Jared said, and he nods.

“He sounds like one of the members of the potion ring we’ve uncovered, if your description is anything to go by. If he’s the one who saw us, then most likely he’s the one who got you fired and threatened as… as a message to me.” He hangs his head. “Claws, Angel, I’m so sorry that you had to go through this because of me. It’s all my fault.”

I scoot forward enough to grab his hand. “I don’t blame you, Roman. If anything, it was my fault. I was the one who mouthed off to Mr. LaFranca.” I wrinkle my nose. “Besides, Mr. LaFranca was a bad boss anyway. Ridiculously sexist. I wouldn’t have worked for him much longer anyways.” 

A gleam of an idea appears in Roman’s eyes. “You were up for a promotion, right?” When I nod, he continues. “And it wasn’t given to you because you are a woman.”

“Yeah, that’s right. But what does that have to do with all this?” I ask.

Roman seizes my other hand. “We aren’t far enough into our potion investigation to get Mr. LaFranca arrested— though he’s almost certainly at the heart of it all— but we can get him sued and temporarily jailed for violating the anti-discrimination laws. That would also give us access to all of his files and allow us enough time to find evidence of his involvement in the potion ring, which would get him put away for life.”

I nod slowly. “Well, Roman—” Then I frown. “Er, Aaron? I don’t know what to call you now.”

“Call me Roman,” he says, running his hands through his hair. “It’s my middle name. I like it when you call me that.”

“Roman, then. Your plan actually sounds like it could work, provided you had evidence of him being discriminatory. I take it my word alone isn’t enough?”

Roman grimaces. “That’s right. I’m sorry, I know you aren’t lying, but—“

“—But just my word won’t hold up in court, I know,” I finish for him. “I’ve watched enough reality television to know how this goes.”

Roman squints at me. “…You know this is completely different, right?”

I wave my hand. “It’s close enough. And, I think I know how we can get evidence of Mr. Lafranca’s sexism and discrimination, even though I’m not in the building.” I tell him about Christine Rivera’s parting words in the elevator, and Roman nods slowly. 

“That could work. Do you trust her? Can she gather enough evidence for us to get a case?”

“I… I don’t know. I really didn’t know her all that well, to be honest. But she went out of her way to offer support to me when she didn’t have to. It’s a risk, but so is everything else involved in this plan, right?”

“Okay, so you reach out to Christine Rivera and get her help for Phase One, getting Mr. LaFranca investigated for discrimination. I’ll coordinate with Tonya on Phase Two, getting access to his files through the discrimination lawsuit and looking for evidence of his involvement in the potion ring.” Roman nods again, more sure this time.

A thought strikes me. “I know I’m not the first secretary he’s had, and I bet the rest of them were discriminated against too. That means that he’s done this before, but never gotten in trouble. Even if Christine does manage to get enough evidence for a solid case, who says that Mr. LaFranca won’t just pay his way out?”

Roman frowns. “That’s a good point, Angel. We need something big to keep him down— bigger even than a quiet discrimination case against a single employee.”

“…How about a viral video?” I ask slowly, my mind working. “If we can film something, and the public catches wind of it, the idea will be out there. Mr. LaFranca won’t be able to buy his way out or sweep it under the rug then.”

Roman looks like he would hug me if I weren’t so bruised. “That’s an amazing idea, Angel! I think it’s just what we need. Tonya and I can use our contacts to make sure the video spreads and takes root in the public eye. Do you think you would be ready to film, say, tomorrow?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I say, shooting him a smile. He smiles back at me, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like things are going to be okay.

– – –

The next morning, Tonya’s waiting by my front door. As I swing out and shut my door, Tonya looks me up and down.

“Darn, girl. You don’t look too good,” she says.

“Yeah, no duh,” I mutter, adjusting my crutches.

“Sorry, Ang. I was just surprised.” Tonya falls in step with me as I exit my apartment building. She ushers me into a car by the curb and gets in beside me. Roman looks at me in the rearview mirror, as he’s sitting in the driver’s seat.

“How you feeling, Angel girl?” He asks me.

“Just peachy,” I reply sarcastically, wincing as the seatbelt digs into my bruised ribs. Roman winces along with me.

“Sorry, sorry, bad question. What I meant was, are you ready for this?”

I take a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Tonya presses a button on her watch and speaks into it. “Decoys, go.”

Five cars ahead of and behind us pull out in unison. We do, too, and we weave in and out of the other cars and go onto the highway. Two of the cars split off, but the other three go onto the highway with us. I lean back onto the seat and sigh.

“You feelin’ alright? Need a painkiller?” Tonya asks. I shake my head.

“No, I’m okay. Well, I’m at least not wanting to die. ‘Okay’ will take some time,” I reply.

“We’ve arrived,” Roman cuts in, parking the car at the curb of a brick building. Tonya hands me a different sweatshirt and I tug it on clumsily. Roman comes around the side of the car and opens the door. He and Tonya flank me as we enter the building. A makeshift recording studio has been set up, a white background and bright lights designed to put all the attention on the subject of the recording— me. Roman helps me limp to the wire chair and sit down, placing my crutches in view.

“You ready for this, Angel girl?” He asks me again, setting his hands on my shoulders and looking into my eyes. I nod once more.

“Yeah. I can do this.”

He nods back and helps me take off my sweatshirt. He folds it neatly under his arm and adjusts the light so that my bruises and bandages around my ribs, temples, and arms are clearly visible. He then retreats behind Tonya at the camera. She holds up her fingers.

“And we’re live in five, four…”

My eyes find Roman’s. He gives me a reassuring nod and a small smile.

“Three, two…”

I swallow nervously and face the camera again.

“One.”

“My name is Angel Gravesten,” I begin. “One week ago, I was the personal assistant to Pierre LaFranca, CEO of LaFranca United. Now I’m suffering from life-threatening issues from when I was beaten, broken, and left for dead. How did I get here? This is my story.” 

~~~

What a chapter, am I right?? It was so much fun rewriting this. Originally, Christine Rivera was only mentioned again in the epilogue, and Jared wasn't talked about at all since the chapter where Angel quit. It seemed odd to me to just leave their characters hanging like that (they are the only named characters in this story that didn't have an actual part in the plot, besides Margie from the coffee shop encounter) so I used this update to tie them back into the story. I also added more detail to the potion cartel plotline, since originally it was a throw-away line about what Roman was doing as an agent working in a coffeeshop. But then I realized that it didn't make sense for him to just… abandon that mission to help Angel, and I never explained how or why he fell off his bike, so I embellished the potion cartel plot and connected it to LaFranca United to tie the whole story together. Also, did you recognize Angel's speech at the end? It's the same words that are included at the beginning of the story! I love circle endings, like seriously. I have another one-shot that I'm going to share with you guys eventually that has this beautifully circular ending to it, too. But that's off topic. Anyways!

Now that the story is almost at its close (remember, epilogue on Friday), I thought I'd do a Q&A for any questions you have about the story. It can be a portion of the plot that you didn't understand, or maybe you want to know the character's backstories, heights, birthdays, etc. Roman and Margie are also literally the only characters in the story who have actual physical descriptions, so if you want to know what other characters look like, feel free to ask. You can also ask about my writing process, writing/posting schedule (fat lot of good I've done keeping to that though lol), pretty much any question you have. I don't know if you even do have any questions, but if you do, ask away! I'll post the answers along with the epilogue on Friday. ALSO on Friday is the new round of voting! In theory, it should be Pirates and Kismet (since those two were in the last poll, but didn't get voted in) along with another story. In reality, though, I may take Kismet out of the running. I know it was tied for first place in both of the last two votes, so you guys theoretically like it, but I ended up being unhappy with the direction the story was taking. I'm going to rewrite it all, the key words there being "going to". Currently, Kismet version 2 is an empty document with an outline of the chapters. I have 6 chapters planned for the beginning, alternating from Ty and Feroc's points of view; then one smooshed into the middle somewhere to set up for the end; then 3 ending chapters. Those are the ones that are planned at the moment, not written. (I've actually never planned a story out like this before, so we'll see how it goes?) I don't know how much time I'll actually end up having to write it, but school starts in September, so I have a few weeks to try, at least. But I'm digressing. That's a story for another time, another post! I'm going to wrap this one up because it's getting REALLY long. Have a good week, y'all! Stay safe and stay healthy!!

~Starseeker 

That was so good!  I absolutely loved that story, Starseeker. At the beginning, I wasn't super thrilled about it, not because of your writing (which is is amazing) but because of the premise of the thing. I'm not a huge fan of plotless romantic stories, which was what Crow's Coffee seemed like at first, but WOW! It is so much more than that, and it was incredible.

I'm a little sad that you aren't going to be posting from Kismet, but I understand your position, I've felt the same way often enough. Do you think you will be posting the rewrite of Kismet later?

Also, for the Q&A: What gave you the idea for Crow's Coffee? 

First of all, thank you so much for your awesome comments! I got more on this chapter than I think I’ve gotten on any individual chapter before. I love hearing your thoughts, so always feel free to speak up! Second of all, if you noticed a little something weird with Tuesday’s trigger warning, it’s because my original warning was changed by one of the Admins to better fit the guidelines of the CB. The word I originally used was changed to “potion” throughout the entire story, which if I’m being honest, fits the magical vibe a little better anyway. I didn’t know if any of you were wondering why I provided a trigger warning for potions, so I thought I’d clarify. (No hard feelings though! Like I said, I thought the changes made it fit better with the magical aspects of the story, and I trust the Admins’ judgement.) Today’s update is going to be a little different than normal; for one, I’m actually typing this up Wednesday night, since Friday is definitely going to be busy for me. Second of all, after this note, I’m going to post the epilogue, then reply to your comments, then answer the Q&A questions, and finally post the three short story nominees. I wanted to post the epilogue first so that if that’s all you came for, you don’t have to go through a whole long post to find it. (I mean, I hope you read the whole thing, but no hard feelings if you don’t! It’s definitely going to be a long one.) Without further ado… the epilogue!

~~~

Epilogue— Three Months Later

“Roman! Tonya! We’re going to be late!” I call. Tonya bounces around the corner, wearing a bright pink bikini and a giant pair of white sunglasses.

“Can’t be late to your own vacation!” She chirps.

Roman rolls his eyes as he, too, comes around the corner, but in a more modest pair of swim trunks and an old t-shirt. He plants a quick kiss on the top of my head, then grabs the stack of stuff Tonya left by the front door and heads out to the car. Tonya grabs my hand and tugs me out after him.

“C’mon, c’mon, let’s go!” She singsongs, hopping into the backseat of her Jeep. Roman takes the driver’s seat and I sit next to him in the passenger seat.

“You seem more excited about this than the girl this is actually for,” Roman says to Tonya, rolling his eyes theatrically.

“I am excited to go to the beach. I’m just not sure that my new job at the Department of Magical Affairs deserves this kind of celebration. I’m only an office worker,” I reply.

“For now,” Tonya interjects.

“For now,” I agree. After the video we made went viral, an investigation into Pierre LaFranca’s business was made, just as we planned. The testimony I provided about his discrimination, as well as the evidence Roman and Tonya discovered about his involvement in the potion ring, was enough to get Mr. LaFranca into court. Before the trial even began, dozens of women from LaFranca United offices all over the world started quitting their jobs, refusing to work for a company that doesn’t respect them. My phone has been blowing up with well-wisher’s messages— and Christine Rivera tells me that before she quit, too, she saw that Mr. LaFranca’s phone was also blowing up, but with less friendly messages. When the day of the trial came, a thousand people gathered on the courthouse steps to cheer me on. A thousand! I don’t even know half that many. With my story and the physical evidence of my attack, plus testimonies from Emmira about my injuries, Christine Rivera about my promotion, and the stories of the dozens of women who had been similarly discriminated against and even threatened, we were able to land Mr. LaFranca in jail for a year. That gave Roman and Tonya enough time to find irrefutable evidence of the drug ring operating within LaFranca United. Mr. LaFranca’s sentence was extended to a life sentence, and his cronies, including Jared and Jean-Briault, are also facing serious charges. They may be able to pay their way out eventually, but in the meantime, LaFranca United has removed Mr. LaFranca as CEO indefinitely. I heard that they’re flying someone in from New York to take his place. LaFranca United also offered me an official apology and a new, better job— better even than the promotion I’d been hoping for. But I turned them down. Roman and Tonya helped me get a job at the Department of Magical Affairs instead. I’m just an office worker now, but I hope I get the chance to become an agent soon. I joined LaFranca United to make a difference in the world— and I have, just not the one I was working towards. I think I can help a lot of people by working at the Department of Magical Affairs, whether it be as an office worker or an agent. Speaking of agents, Roman and I are still together, and our relationship is stronger than ever. Now we don’t have to hide it behind false names and death threats. We can just be Angel and Roman.

“Angel girl!” Roman says, and I lift my head from the window. “We’re here.”

Tonya and I help him unload our stuff and spread the towels out on top of the sand. Tonya skips down to the water, but Roman stays behind to help me put on sunscreen.

“Hey Angel girl?” He asks me suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“Now that Mr. LaFranca’s in jail and you’re working with the Department of Magical Affairs— is it all over?”

“The unpleasantness is all over,” I reply, taking his hand. “But we are just beginning.”

THE END

~~~

There it is, y’all! Oh man, I really got to love these characters through rewriting and editing this story. I already have plans for them to make a cameo in Kismet, though, so it’s not the end forever. I might write a spin-off about Angel’s new life in the DMA, including some magical hijinks as well as romance, because I’m a sucker for true love. I hope you all enjoyed Angel’s journey! Now, to reply to some comments…

@NoOneKnows, THANK YOU!! 😀 I’m so happy you liked the story that much! 

@Peregrine, I hope the epilogue lives up to your expectations! It’s super cool that we share a similar writing style. I might upload a picture of one of the pages of the handwritten version, just to show y’all how crazy my mind is with all the rewrites.

@Hawthorne, thank you so much for the compliment! 😀

@Quill, first of all, I really want a cannoli now. I can’t say for certain that I’ve ever actually had one in my life but they look really tasty!! I hope you like the upcoming stories as much as you liked this one!

@DG, yeah lol I can never stick to one genre. I also tend to center my stories around acts of violence, which is, first of all, an unfortunate trait to have, and second of all, makes it difficult to write romance since violence isn’t romantic. In this case, Angel’s attack is the act of violence; Kismet also centers around an act of violence, as does Rain, how they met, You Are My Sunshine, Superhero Shorts, this is the end, and Pirates. That’s… actually all the stories I’m going to post on here, minus my rewritten novel portions (which now that I think about it, also center on violence. Dang.). 

@PygmyOwl, like I just mentioned to DG, I can never stick to just one genre. (The only exception to that is a series of short plays I wrote which are all one genre each, but that’s different.) And… I might post Kismet??? I’m honestly going back and forth on that. I’m going to cover it in the Q&A because it’s such an issue at this point.

~~~

Q&A TIME! Who asked the question will be in italics, the question will be in bold, and the answer will just be normal font.

 

From Peregrine: Did your mom ever become an astronaut? She, sadly, did not. She was an accountant, and she also worked for Sprint for a time before stopping to raise my sister and I. She works for a local nonprofit now. Even though she didn’t become an astronaut, she loves space, and she’s passed that love on to me! Hence my name and my tentative future plans to become an astrophysicist/aerospace engineer/NASA employee. 

From Hawthorne: Do you plan out the whole story in your head before writing it down, or do you just start writing and see where it takes you? First of all, that’s an excellent question. I sort of do both? I plan out a big, dramatic moment that I work the story towards (usually the “moment of violence” I referenced in my reply to DoodleGirl earlier; in this case, Angel’s attack) and then I let the characters guide where the story goes. So I sort of have a rough outline in my head, but it’s very flexible. My rewrite of Kismet is the first time I’ve ever really tried to plan out a story chapter-for-chapter, but even then it’s a flexible outline.

From Quill: What does Angel look like? Haha, well, that’s also an excellent question.  When I was first writing this, I pictured her more like me— light brown hair, blue eyes— but her name also brings up a mental image of blonde hair, so I’m very torn. If I had to pick, I’d say straight or slightly wavy dark blonde hair that’s usually slicked into a French twist for work; light blue eyes; and pale-ish skin. She’s not paper-white, but she’s not tan, either. She usually wears sensible high heels, a pencil skirt, and a button-up blouse or blazer for work; or a cute, trendy outfit on her own time. She’s pretty much average height but the heels give her a few extra inches. She’s pretty slim and not very curvy, with long fingers and long legs. She’s a runner.

From Quill: What is Roman’s backstory? How did he become an agent? What was his past like? I actually hadn’t thought about this before, but it’s very interesting. I imagine him growing up in an unprivileged neighborhood. He probably has siblings, definitely a sister. (Though, every character I’ve written recently has an older sister— Angel does, Zoey does, now Roman does too— I blame my own older sister for making such an impact on my life. I love her, though. <3) He’s very protective, so I bet he has a younger brother. Roman does have strong magical abilities, so he could have been drafted into the DMA to be an agent; I’d like to imagine that he signed himself up, though. He has a good heart and he’d want to make the world a better place, so what better way to do that than to “stop the bad guys”? He might have also joined to better protect his younger brother; like his brother was bullied for having weak abilities, and Roman would always protect him. Roman might have joined the DMA to make the world better for people like his brother. (I have no idea if this is a good answer or not; I’m kind of thinking on my feet, and I feel like there’s not just one right answer to these character questions. I always try to leave my characters a little ambiguous so that everyone can see something of themselves in the character.)

From DoodleGirl: Does Tonya have a backstory and appearance? In the notebook where I handwrote the original story, I actually have a little doodle (haha, name puns) of Tonya. Originally*, she had pale, freckled skin, and curly red/brown/dyed hair pulled into a messy ponytail/bun. She wears a lot of brightly colored/patterned shirts, which match her loud personality. She’s pretty fit and muscled, since she does do a lot of active, physical work for the DMA. She’s also on the shorter side, and she’s curvy and thick. She wears daring eye make-up, and despite doing physical work for her job, she loves pretty things and bright colors. (*I’m torn on her appearance— I don’t want all my characters except for Roman to be white, but I also don’t want to create forced diversity. I don’t know. If y’all imagine her a little differently, I’m all for it! The most important thing about Tonya is her personality, not her looks.) As for backstory… well, to be honest, I never gave her one. I’d imagine that at the beginning of the potion cartel mission, she got partnered up with Roman for the first time, and they quickly became friends due to her infectious (wrong word to use during a quarantine, maybe?) personality. She proudly third-wheels Roman and Angel (as evidenced by her involvement in the epilogue) and will tell anyone who listens that she was responsible for them getting together. She’s very loyal and easy to talk to, so she probably has lots of friends; I don’t imagine her having a family though, not because of some tragic accident or anything, but because she’s determined to keep them safe and away from her dangerous job.

From PygmyOwl: What gave you the idea for Crow’s Coffee? Well, I actually read a little writing prompt (or was it a news story?) online about a girl who’s lactose intolerant and always orders an almond milk latte from the cute barista, but the cafe doesn’t have almond milk, so she has to drink soy milk all the time. But then one day the cafe suddenly has almond milk, and she finds out that the cute barista bought almond milk with his own money just for her because she always tries to order it and she hates soy. I thought it was a very cute prompt (news story?) and I wanted to take my own spin on it. The magical abilities thing comes from… well, a lot of places, really. I can’t point to anything in particular, though the magic identification badges that I talked about in the intro to the story (and then literally never referenced again within the plot, oof) are inspired by military pins, though. Like the kind on decorated veterans, the ones that are a bunch of different colored rectangles and squares that all fit together? I don’t know what it’s called, and the internet isn’t helping, so I’ll just draw it and add it to the drawings at the bottom of this post. As for the whole agent plot twist thing… I don’t even remember at this point. I think that was an example of my plot outline being “flexible” like I was talking about sometime near the top of this post. Fun fact, Crow’s Coffee (originally titled Fallen Angel) was written in about 3 days during bouts of insomnia at 1 a.m. It’s like the shortest amount of time I’ve ever taken to write a full story. But it also means that I have very little idea why I did what I did, since I was half asleep for a lot of it.

From PygmyOwl: Are you going to be posting the rewrite of Kismet? …yes. I think. I’m going to talk a lot about Kismet real fast, since it’s definitely my most controversial story. The original was rushed and I felt like I was at a dead end. Now, I’m trying to rewrite it. For the first time ever (like, first time in my entire life), I’m planning a story out chapter-by-chapter. That means that so far*, they are actually ending up shorter than my usual chapters (about 1-2 pages; Crow’s Coffee was about 3-4). It’s really not going as horribly as it could me, though I’ll admit I’m a bit at a loss as for how to fill in the gaps between events. *I have recently injured my hip, somehow, despite really never doing anything that could possibly injure it. I always sit weirdly, either cross-legged or just having my feet up off the floor, but I can’t do that any more because it hurts. The only place I can actually sit without it hurting is at my desk, which means that I’m now spending long amounts of time sitting down with nothing to do except write! Basically what I’m going for here is that I wasn’t originally going to rewrite Kismet for a long time, but now that I’m confined, I’ve already started the rewrite. I’ve been on the fence about whether or not to post it or even present it as an option, since I always like to build up a backlog of chapters before I post any of them in case I can’t write something in time for the next update, and I only have 2 chapters of Kismet so far. You might be saying, “But Star! You have like 3 weeks until school starts! That’s plenty of time to write a short story!” To which I would tell you that you are right. But I also know myself and my work ethic. So… *shrug* Might be enough time, might not be. I’ve already written like 7 pages just trying to get this post typed up, so I’m definitely capable, but it’s whether I will actually stop procrastinating and actually do it that’s the question. Kismet also contains themes of homophobia (the “moment of violence”), gender identity, and some words and phrases that I’d have to edit out for the CB. It was originally intended for my irl friend who has a significantly different sense of humor. (I mean, I already do edit my stories to make them CB-ready, but I digress.) With that being said… Kismet will not be one of the nominees for the upcoming short story. I just don’t have enough written to start posting it. It will be posted soon, just not now. That does, however, bring us to the end of our Q&A, and into the nominees for the next short story!

#1: "Pirates"; An unfinished AU of my novel where Zoey is a mermaid, and the Eagles are a pirate ship crew, captained by Sterling. Genre: action/adventure; trigger warnings: unfinished (but only a few chapters from the end), but so far the most daring thing is someone gets treated for a stab wound, Zoey transforms into a human without clothing on (and there is an ensuing search for an appropriately sized pair of pants, though again, everything is CB-rated. There is just a mention of her lack of clothing before someone gives her a coat).  (Did I just copy/paste that from the original post? Yes, yes I did. It’s the same story.)

#2: “Rain”; a completed one-shot short story that is one of the alternate endings to the original novel’s sequel. It basically centers around Zoey dying. It is, however, well-written and has a beautiful circular ending. Genre: tragedy; trigger warnings: main character death; violence (they are, in fact, in a war); in case you didn’t already see, this is a tragedy, which means it’s going to be sad.

#3: “Chills”; a completed one-shot play that I wrote for a local theatre. Genre: horror; trigger warnings: it’s written in a play format instead of a typical short story; although it is more psychological than physical horror, it is still frightening.

 

Alright, those are the three short stories to choose from! If you’re thinking that those are some odd choices, you are, in fact, correct. I went though all my short stories, and of those, three of them were tragedies (and I didn’t want to make you pick between more than one tragedy at a time), two were unfinished/unedited (and I need more time for those), and that left those three. All of them have their checks and balances; Rain and Chills are a little “out there”, but they’re both one-shots, so they’ll be done and posted in one week. Whichever two don’t win will return in the next vote to run up against another short story, so if the one you wanted isn’t selected, don’t worry! Hopefully posting one of these will give me some extra time to build up a buffer of chapters for Kismet and also fill in some of the gaps for the other short story I need some time for. (It’s one of my personal favorites, and I’m very excited to post it once it’s CB-worthy!) If worse comes to worse, I can also just post a chapter or two from my rewritten novel to stall for time, lol. Anyways, I think that just about wraps up this horribly long post (sorry Admins). As always, stay safe and stay healthy! <3

~Starseeker

(P.S. I think somewhere in there I mentioned drawings, but I haven't actualy drawn them yet, so I'll post them later.) 

The votes are in! As it stands right now, the tally is:

Pirates: 0 (RIP)

Rain: 4

Chills: 2

So as you can see, Rain is the winner! This is very exciting and rather unexpected. I didn't know if any of my tragedy pieces would even be chosen, ever, because they're sad and not everyone likes a sad story. To be honest, I expected Pirates to win because it almost won last time. But you can see how that turned out. XD (For the record, I'm not offended if one of the stories gets no votes. It's more funny to me than anything. If a story consistently scores one or less votes, though, I'll probably take it out of the running, since why make it an option if nobody wants to read it?) Anyways, on to greener pastures.

The good thing about Rain is that it's a one-shot! It's a bit longer than my Crow's Coffee chapters (6 pages instead of 4), but it's definitely one-shot length. I'll post an intro to the world and the situation in this post, and then put the main story, as well as the poll for the next story, in Friday's update.

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INTRO TO THE WORLD OF RAIN

This story takes place in the same world as my original novel, Take Wing/This Dark Night. It features all the same characters and all the same relationships, just farther along. Rain, if it were actually canon, would take place pretty much near the end of the second book timewise. But it's more of an angsty side story than an actual canon event. (It could have been canon at one point, but I'm too much of a hopeless romantic.) At the end of the first book, Zoey is stolen away from her friends and taken to Lydianzaa, the island of the mythical winged women known as the Elites. She is experimented on and brainwashed into being the perfect puppet ("the Wraith"), and becomes the second-in-command of the Elites through her missions and training. Rain takes place once the Eagles– Sterling, Jasak, Feroc, and the like– have gotten Zoey back and broken her brainwashing so that she remembers who she is. The Eagles have also reclaimed Sterling and Zoey's childhood home, the Griffon royal castle. Zoey is being kept in the dungeons of the castle for her own safety and peace of mind, while the Eagles and their allies are fighting the final battle.

Sterling and Zoey both have magic, but Sterling's is like a single drop in the ocean compared to Zoey. Feroc and Tyrian have accidentally adopted a child. Jasak and Zoey are dating. Feroc and Zoey have become best friends (MAN I MISS WRITING THEIR BROMANCE, LOOK OUT KISMET).

Rain just goes farther into Jasak's head than Take Wing/This Dark Night ever got a chance to, since it's written from his first-person perspective. Fun fact, the character of Jasak is actually Vyolette's AE, Trevor! Trevor was shipped with Zoey (as my AE) right here on the CB, and Vy gave me permission to put him into my novel as well. She came up with the name Jasak, and he's been there ever since. 

~~~

Alright! The actual story will be posted this Friday, as well as a Q&A and the voting for the next story. If you have any questions about the situation or the characters that you'd like answered, feel free to post them between now and Friday; otherwise, I'll see you in a few days!

~Starseeker 

What's up y'all, Star here! Welcome to the super-duper-long Friday update. I'll start off with addressing comments, then post the story, then open a Q&A as well as the voting for the next story!

@Kitten, that's… actually a very good question. So, I was re-reading through Rain as I was editing it this week, and there's this little throw-away line about Feroc's kid. It's just something I added at the time to carry on Feroc and Ty's legacy– if you remember, in the character epilogue post I put at the end of my original novel, Feroc and Ty have become public speakers/self defense instructors and eventually give their public speaking role over to a young trans woman. That woman is the child referenced in the story. And I said that they "accidentally" adopted a child because her very existence was due to an accidental, throwaway line. As for the actual backstory of where she came from, she was the only survivor of one of the burned villages. Ty's great with kids, and nobody would ever mess with someone that Feroc is looking after (plus Ty and Feroc are a package deal anyway), so they were given custody of the child until they found someone else to take care of her. But then she ended up growing on them, and they unofficially adopted her. So that's also how one "accidentally" adopts a kid.

Now, without further ado… Rain! *I might recommend reading through the intro in the last post again, just so that you know what you're getting into. Trigger Warnings: Violence (including broken bones, vomiting, and fighting friends); heavy angst 

~~~

Around us, the world rains.

“Jasak, I don’t think we can do this much longer,” Sterling pants. She attempts to wipe the blood off her sword, but there’s just so much of it. So much blood, so much killing, just… so much. Too much.

We’re losing, bad. Even I know it.

I survey the battlefield, wondering how many of our friends won’t be coming home tonight. An idea strikes me suddenly, and I know it’s occurred to Sterling too, because she says, “Jasak…”

“No,” I say firmly. 

“This could be our last stand,” Sterling says grimly.

“And it would almost certainly be hers, Ster! I can’t let her do this.”

Sterling scoffs a laugh. “We don’t ‘let’ her do anything, Jasak. She could be out of that cell in a second and we all know it.”

“I don’t… I don’t think I could stand losing her again,” I admit, the rain coursing down my face. I can’t look Sterling in the eye.

Sterling surveys me, and her gaze softens. “Jasak, if we don’t do this, we’ll lose everyone and everything we’ve ever worked for. Everything.”

“The risks—“ I argue.

“Make sure she knows the risks before making a decision,” Sterling says. “I’m sorry, Jasak.” She closes her eyes and waves her fingers, and in a blink, I’m back at the castle, in front of her cell. We tried to put her in a room, but… she insisted.

She lifts her head at my sudden arrival.

“Hello, Jasak,” she says quietly.

“Hello, Zoey,” I answer.

“It’s not going well, is it?” She asks me.

I shake my head.

“You wouldn’t be here, otherwise,” she continues. “Sterling sent you here.”

I nod mutely. Zoey laughs softly. “She’s always had a head for strategy, my sister. She knows what needs to be done and who needs to do it. Do you, Jasak?” She drifts to the front of her cell in that strange, graceful way she has now.

I meet her eyes. “Yes. But… I’m not… I’m not sure I can.”

Zoey nods slowly. “That’s okay. I just need you to let me out, then I can do all the rest.” 

I grip the bars of her cell desperately. “Don’t you know what this means? If you go out there—“

“I won’t come back,” Zoey finishes, wrapping her hands around mine. “Yes, Jasak, I know.”

“You know— and you’re still going through with it?” I ask her, my voice breaking.

“I have to,” she says simply. “I’ve done so many terrible things with this body. This is the only way to make up for that.”

“No, it isn’t! There has to be another way. There’s always another way!” I beg her.

She squeezes my hands. “If we don’t win this war, there’ll never even be a chance for another way,” she tells me gently. “Please, Jasak. Let me do this. Let me save you, one last time.” She raises a hand and tips my chin down to look at her. “Please.”

A tear slides down my face. “Okay.”

She exhales. “Thank you, Jasak. Will you— will you be the one?”

I nod slowly. Then I step back from her and shakily grab the keys to her cell from their peg on the wall. I unlock the door slowly, and it clicks open. Zoey steps out and I embrace her tightly. Finally she steps back.

“Goodbye, Jasak,” she says softly. I grab her arm.

“Wait— Zoey, take me with you.”

She hesitates. “Jasak, I don’t… I don’t want you to see this.”

“Please, Zoey. Don’t take our last moments together away from me.”

She nods, finally. “Okay, Jasak. Okay. Hold on tight.”

She lifts me in her arms easily, so unlike the delicate girl I once knew. Then she stretches out her wings, the feathers rippling and changing until she easily has a twenty foot wingspan.

“We’re flying there?” I ask. 

Zoey nods. “I always wanted to take you on a flight around the city. This is the closest we’ll ever get, I suppose.”

I wrap my arms around her neck in answer.

Zoey crouches, then launches off the ground with a massive push. We hurtle straight towards the ceiling, but she reaches out with her magic and blasts a hole straight through to the open air. We shoot through it and towards the battlefield. Zoey glances back at the hole in the castle.

“Oops,” she says cheekily, and I laugh. For a moment, it’s just like it used to be— me and her. Together. Uncomplicated. But then we’re landing in the mud on the edge of the field with a wet squelch.

“Where’s Sterling?” Zoey asks, but then a second later, she squints. “Never mind, I found her.” In a flash, Sterling is standing next to us. She looks bewildered for a second, but then her eyes fall on Zoey.

“I heard y’all were in need of some assistance,” Zoey says dryly.

Sterling lets out a sob and rushes forward, clutching Zoey to herself in a tight hug. Zoey holds her just as tightly.

“Sterling,” Zoey says, her voice breaking, “Will you— will you bury me next to our parents?”

Sterling whispers. “I promise. Claws, Zo— I promise.”

Zoey squeezes her one more time, then steps back and turns to face me. “Will you…” she stops and takes a breath. “Will you tell Feroc that he’s the best friend I’ve ever had? And that I would have loved to have been his child’s godmother.”

Tears fill my eyes again. “I will, Zo.”

“And—“ she gulps down another breath. “And I love you, forever and always. And I wish we could have had more time together.” A tear finally makes its way out of her eyes.

“I love you too,” I whisper.

She gulps back a sob and takes a step back. “You two— don’t be afraid to be happy, okay? After— after everything. Don’t let me hold you back.” She takes another step backwards. “I love you both, so, so much. Please don’t ever forget that.” She takes one more step back, then closes her eyes and holds her hands out at her sides. A swarm of dark smoke gathers around her fingers, a menacing inversion of her former powers. Then the smoke swirls down her arms and across her body. It solidifies and crystallizes, turning into sleek black armor and a billowing black cape. 

It’s the outfit of the Wraith, except— instead of a hideous mask on her face, it’s a black crown.

And in that moment, I understand. She isn’t just saving us— she’s saving herself, reclaiming the powers and identity that made her do such awful things. She lifts her chin and meets my eyes, and in them, I see understanding reflected back at me.

“See you on the other side,” she says, and then she’s gone.

Sterling sinks to her knees, but I scan the battlefield. I want to— I need to— to see her. Even if this is the end.

And then, in a flash of lightning and a curl of smoke, she reappears. With her wings and armor, she looks like an angel of death, hovering over the battlefield.

She raises a hand, and the sky begins to darken. Tendrils of black power stretch out of her hands and up into the roiling clouds, creating a swirling storm that covers the entire sky.

I suck in a breath. Holy claws. I knew she was powerful, but this… this is beyond what any mortal should be able to do.

I am no longer a mortal, a voice whispers in my mind. A voice that sounds like Zoey’s. I have been reMade.

Even though she may not be mortal, this is still taking a toll on her. Her whole body is shaking with the effort of keeping the vortex together, and still the smoke gathers around her. Even the rain is pulled in by her, collecting in the spiral before it even touches the ground.

“This is too much,” Sterling whispers. “She’ll kill herself.”

“She never intended to leave this field alive, Ster,” I answer. “And you brought her here, knowing that.”

Sterling remains silent, watching beside me.

The swirling storm keeps growing and growing, and now there are flickers of silver lightning running through it, too. The people fighting have begun noticing as well— shouts and screams ring out, and some people try to flee, like they know what’s coming.

But they’re too late. In a massive flash, the vortex explodes outward, expanding across the battlefield, covering it in a shroud of darkness so thick I can’t even see Sterling beside me. But then the cloud clears, as suddenly as it appeared.

Sterling gasps. “Did she…”

“She did,” I confirm. For all across the battlefield, the enemy soldiers have been turned to stone— black, hazy stone, shot through with veins of silver lightning.

“She really did,” I repeat. Tears come to my eyes. “Oh claws,” I sob. “She— it’s over. She’s gone.”

Feroc comes running up to us. “Was that— Zoey?” He asks. “I only saw a glimpse of her before the smoke settled, but who else could it have been, right? Claws, she’s amazing. I’ll have to thank her. Where is she?”

I close my eyes, swaying unsteadily on my feet. My heart feels like it’s stuck in a vise, squeezing and squeezing and—

I open my eyes. “She’s dead,” I hear a voice say. When Feroc looks at me, I realize that that voice was my own.

Feroc’s face whitens. “Dead? What do you… Sterling?”

But Sterling can only look at him, tears mixed with rain dripping down her face.

Feroc stumbles back a few steps. “Oh… oh claws. Claws. She… she was supposed to be safe in the castle! What… what—“

“We would have lost without her, Feroc!” Sterling screams. “We all would have been dead.”

“She wanted me to tell you that you were the best friend she’d ever had,” I break in. “She— she wanted you to know that.”

Feroc turns to me, a frantic look in his eye. “You saw her?” He says quietly. “You saw her, and you didn’t stop her?”

I just look at him blankly.

Feroc’s face twists with rage. “I’ll kill you!” He roars, and runs at me, throwing me to the ground. “She’s dead— because of you! Because of you!” He screams, throwing wild punches at my face. One of them connects with my nose, and I hear a crunch as it breaks. It takes six of our burliest Eagles to pull him off me.

Maylene’s face appears above mine, filled with concern. “Let me help you up, Jasak. Get some of those wounds healed.” I let her pull me to my feet, but I flinch away before she can heal me.

“Feroc’s right,” I say dully. “This is all my fault. I let her out of her cell. I brought her here. I deserve this.” I touch my broken nose, feeling the bones crack and shift. I know it should hurt, but… it doesn’t. I can’t feel anything. I’m just… heavy. I push my nose again and hear it squelch. Sterling vomits in the mud. Feroc is on his knees now, openly sobbing.

A small voice clears its throat. All of us gathered look up to find Tyrian, holding something in his arms.

“I was there when she— when she fell,” Ty says, his voice breaking. “And I thought you all might want to— want to—“ he shifts on his feet, and the thing in his arms shifts too, a head rolling forward on a limp neck.

Not just any head— Zoey’s head. Oh claws, he’s holding Zoey’s body.

Sterling vomits in the mud again.

I stagger forward as Tyrian lays her carefully in the mud. I fall to my knees by her side, lifting up her torso and laying it in my lap. I cradle her head in my hands, her sightless eyes staring upward. And I know— I know, then, that there’s nothing we can do. That’s she’s gone. I lower my head and weep.

And around us, the world rains.

~~~

That's… that's that, y'all. It might be one of the best things I've ever written, even if it is very heavy and gritty. It was interesting, trying to find ways to space out and speed up the dialogue and descriptions to get the reader into the scene. Plus, it's all told from Jasak's POV, who reacts differently to situations and has different thoughts than Zoey. It's definitely one of the more challenging pieces I've written, but I like it nonetheless. I'm a sucker for the main-character-giving-the-ultimate-sacrifice trope, which was the whole point of this one-shot. However, I'm also too much of a sucker for happy endings, which is why this isn't a truly canon scene. I'm working some more self-sacrifice into the rewritten novel (spoiler alert? nah) and finding a balance is difficult. I'm pretty sure I wrote most of this in about an hour, around midnight, soon after the guy I'd had a crush on for a year (and also went on a date with!) turned out to be a massive jerk. It gave me lots of angsty feelings to write with, though, so at least he was good for one thing! When life gives you lemons, turn them into hyper-angsty short stories about death and destruction. 

To be honest, I could have easily posted this in the last update, but I was procrastinating because I'm nervous about what you guys will think about it. It's very different than anything I've ever posted before. 

Anyway! Q&A! Any questions about this story? It's only a one-shot, so there's not too much to ask about, I'd imagine. But you could ask about character appearances, more about the Wraith persona… honestly, I don't know what you could ask about necessarily, but if you wanna ask something, go right ahead!

Also, the nominees for the upcoming short story are…

#1: Pirates! I'm sure by now you all know the story, but if you don't: An unfinished AU of my novel where Zoey is a mermaid, and the Eagles are a pirate ship crew, captained by Sterling. Genre: action/adventure; trigger warnings: unfinished, but so far the most daring thing is someone gets treated for a stab wound, Zoey transforms into a human without clothing on (and there is an ensuing search for an appropriately sized pair of pants, though again, everything is CB-rated. There is just a mention of her lack of clothing before someone gives her a coat).  

#2: Chills! a completed one-shot play that I wrote for a local theatre, featuring a girl in an asylum and her hallucinations. Genre: horror; trigger warnings: it’s written in a play format instead of a typical short story; although it is more psychological than physical horror, it is still frightening.

#3: this is the end! A one-shot short story that I'm actually looking for some feedback on to see if I should expand it into a longer story. It's not urgent, so don't let that sway your decision. The teaser line is "What if the hero… isn't as heroic as you thought?" Basically, it's the story of the 12-year-old "Chosen One"'s final showdown with the "big bad villain". Genre: tragedy? Ish? Sort of comedic, too. It's nothing like Rain; trigger warnings: there is a gun, and a little bit of violence.

Um, yeah! Next post will be up on Tuesday, with the announcement of the next short story and the answers to the Q&A. Stay safe and healthy, y'all! <3

~Starseeker 

What's up y'all! It's Tuesday, and you know what that means. I'll reply to comments first as always, then talk about the chosen story (spoiler alert: it's unanimously Pirates), and then post an extra special surprise. 😉 

@DG, I'm glad it had that much impact on you! (Well, not glad that you almost cried. Glad that my writing made you feel something, even if that something is sadness.)

@Kitten, same goes to you! I think a well-written piece of writing should make the readers feel something, and in this case, that something was sadness. I hope that y'all almost-crying means that it was well written!

@Quill, I guess your comment actually answers the rhetorical question I just asked Kitten. XD As for the actual canon ending, I'd just like to direct you to pages 19/20 of the original novel thread, helpfully posted by Kitten. There's a short story that just about wraps it up on page 19, and individual endings on page 20. 

@PygmyOwl, yep! It's been posted before. I started posting it in 2017 (when I was 13) and I posted new content, usually on Tuesdays and Friday, right up until I started my full hiatus in early 2019. (And scrolling back through that thread, there's a post from March 14, 2019 where I mention an un-canon coffeeshop AU that I'm pretty sure is Crow's Coffee! So I finally have a date on that, unless I have another story stashed away somewhere.)

@Summer, nah, you're not late! Palpable angst was definitely my goal. ALSO, when I was scrolling through the original novel thread, I found some fanart of Sterling that you drew and I'm seriously so obsessed with it. It was more than a year ago now but I'd just like to thank you again for drawing it. 😀

Now, the chosen story! Obviously, it's Pirates. It was very unanimously voted. Chills and this is the end will return in a few weeks to run up against another full-length story (since by that point I might have edited it, lol). I'd also like to take a quick (ha when is it ever actually quick) second to talk about my story selection process. In the first round of voting, I just picked 3 full-length short stories. In the future, though, I'm going to pick 1 full-length story and 2 one-shots, just because I have more one-shots and I'm way behind in my editing for the full-length short stories. And if Pirates hadn't been selected, it would have run for one more week before being knocked out. If something gets 1 or less votes for 3 rounds of voting, then I'll take it out. If a story is taken out of the running, I'll bring it back in eventually. I'm just shuffling it to the back of the "pile" to bring out some new content, basically. So even if something is "knocked out" it'll be back at some point.

Okay! Now that that not-so-short quick announcement is out of the way, I can start posting Pirates. The first chapter has actually already been uploaded due to me being too impatient to actually wait for the voting to finish, so you can find it on the first page of this thread. Pirates chapters are significantly shorter than Crow's Coffee chapters, so I might end up posting little bonuses with each chapter, but we'll see. 

Aaaaaaand that is the perfect little segue into my next thing! The extra super-duper special bonus content! With lots of adjectives! And exclamation points! I finally made those drawings I referenced in the Crow's Coffee Q&A. I have headshots of Roman and Tonya, and hopefully I'll get Angel and the magic pins drawn at some point or another, too. I'm not super happy with Roman's coloring, so I'd also like to direct your attention to Fidelity's amazing art of him on page 4! He looks so incredible and I like that version of him more than the one I drew. So that's that! Stay healthy and stay safe, and I'll be back with the second chapter of Pirates on Friday! <3

~Starseeker 

Here's Tonya!

~Starseeker