#// hello randal thank you for the offer

[twistedisciple]

-- WHETHER RANDAL'S EXPRESSION SEEMS thoroughly impressed or politely inquisitive at the great sopping pile of blood Griss has drenched himself in seems viewer's choice. Regardless of his feelings on the matter, however, he does seem at least intentional in his approach.

"You're either pulling some wild bluff or do not give a damn," Randal says, looking over the other man with a small smile. He holds the ends of his cape up, careful not to let it sop into the mess. "I can think of little other reason to dress up so horrendously. You know the idea is to convince others to talk to you, not turn them off, don't you?"

But he holds out a hand nonetheless. "But I've never turned a cheek at a man just because his hands were dirty. I have to assume it's your bloody print on that woman's back, no? If you're up for it, would you visit one of these houses with me?"

“Well, you’re talking to me, aren’t you?” Griss parries easily enough. Of course, the talking hasn’t been his problem; it’s the cooperation that’s been harder to scare coax out of the other participants in this game. But he can’t say he hasn’t been here before. Even among the disciples that had raised him, zealots were still ostracized. His reputation had made it crucial that he learn to work creatively, or alone.

Griss settles into the dip in the low branch he’s made into his perch for now, blood dripping steadily from it to the stained earth below him as if from a fresh wound. It doesn’t seem to faze him, however. Clearly, it’s not his own, and he studies the familiarity in this man’s face with bright, mischievous eyes. It’s missing a few dozen lines and a rough world-weariness to it, but Griss is certain he’d known this man before. They’d collaborated. And Griss had come out the victor in the end.

A smirk snakes across his lips. “Randy, yeah? So this is what a few more hours of sleep and a haircut can do.” He chuckles, pumps both legs and swings off the branch onto the ground, blood-soaked mud squelching under his feet.

“Since you asked so nicely, I’m not gonna say no.” And maybe he’s even a little pleased with the memento he left Poe with. More importantly though, he sees another potential victory in this alliance, so he seals the deal by slapping Randal’s hand loud enough to make a faintly wet smack sound. Fortunately for Randal, however, the blood is mostly dried on the palms of his hands by now.

“So how d’you wanna do it? Scare ‘em? Lure ‘em out of their houses and steal the candy? Oh, or maybe,” a dangerous smile, “we light ‘em up. Make this night a real bloodbath to remember!”

[tharett]

**** This is going to be the last ranfren post I'll make ****

I'm pretty sure some of you may know (and by looking into the community, will probably tell me to "grow up" lololol), the ranfren creator has... a VERY problematic past (that i properly searched and educated myself about)... and I no longer want to associate with their work (simple as that, really)☝️🤓

[Context as to Why I'm Uploading this xd]:

I was in the process of drawing this page (with the intention of uploading it ywy) before finding about the LORE about the making of the Ranfren series, so I couldn't bring myself to NOT upload this after putting a lot of work in for it... and we find ourselves here in this awkward situation :v

So with this, I will bid the series adieu and continue uploading art of my other interests 🙇‍♂️

Eng Translation of my Chicken Scratch Handwriting:

Nyon and Nyen photo:

- ok 1/2 (letters on his shirt)

- Nyon looks too feminine lmao (in my style)

-Nyen (why is he always drawn all muscley??) (Future thare: I now know (HAH))

Luther photo:

[Headcanon Box]

- always unprepared for visitors (doesn't have enough drinks each visit somehow)

[Dialogue]

Luther (L): "I hope your friends like them..."

Randal (R): "thanks big brother! Woah, an ash tray for a cup!? Cool"

Avalona and Spider Girl photo:

[Dialogue]

Avalona Mercury (A): c'mon guys! Hurry up! N'hee hee hee!"

R: "I'm on my way ladies!!"

A: "ew you're drooling again hee hee!"

[OC]Hirose Daiki (H): "I'll stick around a bit!"

[Extra Notes]

- HS AU ☆ high school alternative universe

- they all get along like normal teens <3

Comic Strip (LEFT TO RIGHT! Also Numbered!!):

[Contex Box]

- meeting the Ivory Family

[Dialouge + Action Boxes]

H: "oh! Hey Sebastian (S)! What a coincidence! Wanna hang later?"

S: "H-Hirose? What are you...?" [First time meeting Hirose out of school]

H: "I'm also here for groceries?? Lol. Why else would I be here?"

L: "oh? Is he a friend of yours, Randal?" [Lean--]

R: "eeh, I guess? He's a friend of a friend" [uninterested]

H: "hello! I'm Hirose Daiki, Randal's and Sebastian's friend! You must be Randal's big brother, Luther, right?" [Offering hand for handshake]

S: "I told you, you don't have to greet them..."

H: "nonsense!! It's a pleasure to meet you! Hi Randal ^^"

R: "ugh... hi..."

L: "(Oh, he's nicer than the other one (Satoru)!) Well yes! Yes I am- it's a pleasure to meet you, too!" [Flattered Blush]

H: "the pleasure is all mine!"

R: "Seb, let's go to the candy section!"

[Contex Box (2)]

- later made plans to introduce his (Hirose) parents

Traducción de Todo lo que Dije antes pero en Esp xd:

**** Esto será el último blog de Ranfren que haré ****

Estoy seguro que algunos de ustedes saben (y al mirar los tipos de la comunidad, probablemente me dirán que "ctm/no mms" xdxd), el creador de Ranfren tiene... un pasado MUY problemático (en la cual yo tome el tiempo para buscar para que me eduque adecuadamente)... y ya no quiero asociarme con su trabajo (así de simple, la neta JAJA) ☝️🤓

[Contexto de pq subo esto xdxd]:

Estaba en el proceso de terminar este dibujo (con la intención de subirla ;-;) antes de enterarme de la HISTORIA sobre la creación de la serie Ranfren, así que como no subir este dibujo después de ponerle tanto esfuerzo para terminarlo, y pues... ahora nos encontramos aquí en esta situación incomoda :v

Así que con esto, me despido de la serie y continuaré subiendo arte de mis otros intereses 🙇‍♂️

Traducción Esp de mi letra culera JAJAJA:

Foto de Nyon y Nyen:

- ok 1/2 (lo que tiene escrito en su blusa)

- Nyon se ve demasiado femenino JAJAJA (en mi estilo xd)

- Nyen (¿pq siempre lo dibujan todo musculoso?) (thare del futuro: ahora lo sé (JAJ))

Foto con Luther:

[Caja con Headcanon] ("Headcanon" son ideas que son implementados en un personaje(s) de cómo interactuan/como reaccionaría en ciertas situaciones, etc)

- Siempre no esta preparado para sus visitantes (por alguna raz��n siempre no tiene suficiente bebidas para servir en cada visita)

[Diálogo]

Luther (L): "espero que a tus amigos les gusten..."

Randal (R): "¡Gracias, hermano mayor! Gau, ¿¡un cenicero para una taza!? Chido"

Foto con Avalona y Chica Araña:

[Diálogo]

Avalona Mercurio (A): "¡Vamos chicos! ¡Apúrense! ¡N'hji ji ji!"

R: "¡¡Voy llegando chicas!!"

A: "¡Que asco, estas babeando de nuevo ji ji!"

[OC]Hirose Daiki(H): "¡Me quedo con ustedes por un poco!"

[Notas Extra]

- UA de Prepa ☆ Universo Alternativo de la Prepa/Secundaria

- se llevan como adolescentes normales <3

Tira Cómica (¡LEER DE IZQUIERDA A DERECHA! ¡¡TAMBIÉN ESTÁ NUMERADO!!)

[Caja de Contexto]

- conociendo la Familia Ivory

[Diálogo + Cajas de Acción]

H: "¡oh! ¡Que tal Sebastian (S)! ¡Que coincidencia! ¿Quieres pasar el rato?"

S: "¿H-Hirose? ¿Que haces aquí...?" [La primera vez que mira a Hirose fuera de la escuela]

H: "¿¿También estoy aquí para el mandado?? Lol, ¿para que más estaría aquí?"

L: "¿Oh? Este es un amigo tuyo, Randal?" [Se inclina--]

R: "eee, ¿yo diría? Es amigo de un amigo" [desinteresado]

H: "¡Hola! ¡Soy Hirose Daiki, amigo de Randal y Sebastian! Usted es el hermano mayor de Randal; Luther, ¿es cierto?" [Ofreciéndole la mano para saludarlo]

S: "te he dicho, no necesitas saludarlos..."

H: "¡¡Tonterías!! ¡Es un placer conocerte! Hola Randal ^^"

R: "ugh... hola..."

L: "(Oh, ¡es más amable que el otro (Satoru xd)!) ¡Por supuesto! Soy el hermano mayor- ¡Es un placer conocerte!" [Rubor Halagado(?)]

H: "¡El placer es todo mío!"

R: "¡Oye Seb, vayamos a la sección de dulces!"

[Caja de Contexto (2)]

- después hicieron planes para introducir sus padres (de Hirose)

Con esto, me despido y les deseo que tengan una buenas/os días, tardes, o noches 🫂💕

And with this, I say goodbye and wish all of you a good day, afternoon, or night 🫂💕

[loupy-mongoose]

Hello, new viewers, now and future! I finally buckled down and made something of a timeline for my story, so I thought I'd create an updated master post for the relational information on the Lindens.

This post contains spoilers for the backbone arc of my story. If you want to read through that first, here is a chrono link, and here is the first part if the chrono doesn't work. (I went through and made sure all the links work.)

IT ALSO CONTAINS IMPLICATION OF DEATH.

Randall, Akoya, and Lavender all have a human and a Mew form. (Or Mewtwo, in Lav's case.) Randy spends most of his time in human form.

The protagonist, Randall (Randy) Linden, was once a human. But when a sabotage went wrong, Randy was trapped and injured beyond help. Mo, a Mew friend of his, took Randy's memories to save him, overriding Mo's own.

Now Mo, with his own memories erased, lives Randy's life in his place. So Randy is essentially a human-turned-Mew.

Before that, Randy met Akoya, a shiny Mew from an uninhabited island in Hoenn. She and him became friends--Borderline lovers, but Randy stopped the relationship short of that due to his own values. (He didn't want to have a human/Pokemon romance, nor force Akoya to permanently become human.)

With research help from Randy and the facility he was working at, Akoya was artificially impregnated. However, the people there experimented on her, resulting in the baby being born a Mewtwo, which Randy named Lavender. (She is biologically not related to him, and she knows that, but she fully sees him as her dad.)

Three weeks after Lav was born, Randy "became a Mew". Later, after learning and adjusting to this fact, Randy decides he wants to be Akoya's mate. She goes a step further and offers to marry him--Marriage isn't a thing in Mew culture, but she was devoted enough to him to act on his culture and values.

Once he was comfortable enough as a Mew, Randy was open to trying for a kid with her. But after Lav's birth, Akoya was wary of having any more kids--The pregnancy with Lav was arduous and nearly killed Akoya.

Eventually, Akoya was ready to try, and they had the twins Monique and Midas.

Years later, after Momo and Midas have grown up, Randy and Akoya have another kid--Aneira.

Persim is Akoya's half-brother from her island colony. She has seven half-siblings, with a shared father.

Note: The years are strictly there as an anchor; I try to avoid mentioning years in my story as I am unsure how I want to go about it.

I'm sorry the timeline is so small. It's the only way I could think to fit it all in and give room for future events. X3

Thank you for taking the time to read this, if you did! If you have any questions/confusion or think something should be added, let me know and I'll try to get it answered! I'll continue to update this in the future as relevant events come to light~

[kissorkill16]

Fill My Empty Heart: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: After Mya's death, Aaron committed suicide. Mr. Peterson, desperate to have a family again, takes in the depressed and heartbroken child across the street, Nicky Roth.

Chapter 1

It has been raining for a few weeks now. Nicky was sure it was probably gonna start flooding soon. His parents had offered many times to drive him to school, but last time he did that, his mother just kept going on and on about how if this didn't work, she could always book him a therapist out of town.

He wasn't in the mood for another headache.

So he just decided to walk to school in the rain.

When he finally got to school, he tried not to be seen by any of his friends. Maybe he could just borrow a towel from the Lost & Found bin.

He put on his hoodie, trying to keep a low profile. But he miserably failed when he felt 2 arms wrap around his torso.

"Nicky!"

Nicky recognized that voice immediately. It was Trinity.

Enzo had recently introduced her to him last summer...

Back when Aaron was still alive.

He gently pried the arms away, "Hi, Trinity.", he mumbled. He didn't want to get involved with anyone right now, all Nicky wanted to do was get this day over with.

His friends however, had other plans.

"So what do you have planned for after school today?", asked Trinity. "Going home.", said Nicky.

"Sounds fun, but I was thinking that maybe you'd like to come by at Enzo's after school. We were gonna watch a movie and order pizza. Doesn't that sound -"

Nicky was just trying to get his notebooks from his locker, trying to drown out Trinity's voice. He slammed his locker door shut.

"That sounds like loads of fun, Trinity. But I am not in the mood.", he said, his voice emotionless. "Thanks, but no thanks."

He turned around to walk away, and he accidentally saw something in the corner of his eye. It was an article about the recent news.

AARON PETERSON FOUND DEAD IN SHOWER

Immediately, Nicky felt his vision begin to blur, his eyes filled up with tears. He covered his mouth to muffle his sobs, and then he felt another pair of arms wrap around him.

"Hey.", it was Enzo. "How're you holding up, buddy?"

Nicky gently pushed him away, "I'm fine, I'm just still trying to...process."

Enzo gently pulled his friend back into his embrace, letting Nicky cry into his shoulder.

"Nicky, I know you miss him, everyone who knew him does. But..."

Nicky tilted his head to look at Enzo, "But what?", he felt himself shout. "But I should just get over it? But that's no reason to act like a fucking lunatic at school? But I should just forget about him because it was never going to last long anyway?"

Enzo put his hands up, "No! No, of course not. I would never ask you to just forget about someone who made you happy.", he said. He took Nicky's hand and held it in his.

"Just come to my house after school. We can watch whatever you're in the mood for. I promise it'll clear your mind."

Nicky was reluctant, but he eventually nodded.

"Great! See you then!"

The whole day, Nicky felt like absolute shit. His nose was getting a little stuffy, he was coughing and sneezing a lot, and he felt cold, and he was wearing a freaking hoodie for God's sake!

He tried to keep it in during Mr. Randall's class, but it wasn't easy. He had to suffer in the cold as he used his hoodie to cover his coughs and sneezes.

"Jesus Christ, man! Are you dying too?", asked Seth Jenkins, who was sitting right behind him.

"Shut up, Seth. We're trying to pay attention.", said Enzo.

Seth rolled his eyes and stared back at the board. A moment of silence passed through the room, with just the teacher talking, then Seth leaned in closer to Nicky.

"How was the funeral?", he asked, "You sure cried a river, didn't you?"

"Seth, I'm trying to pay attention."

"I heard you sounded like a dying pig."

"Seth, I'm warning you."

Mr. Randall clapped his hands, "Mr. Roth, Mr. Jenkins, try to keep your focus on the board please.", he said.

Another moment of uninterrupted teaching passed through the room.

Then Seth said something that made Nicky just snap inside.

"It was a miracle for sure.", he whispered. "Now we don't have to worry about his weird ass anymore. If I were you, I'd consider myself lucky."

Nicky balled his hands into fists.

"And did you see how funny he looked? The man was acting like he didn't even have a neck anymore!", laughed Ruben Smith, sitting right next to Seth.

Nicky didn't know what happened, but when he finally snapped out of it, he was holding a chair with blood on its metal legs, and Seth & Ruben were laying on the floor, blood dripping from their noses.

"YOU FUCK ASSES THINK THIS IS FUCKING FUNNY?!", he yelled at them. "YOU THINK SUICIDE IS SO FUNNY?! YOU THINK ME LOSING MY BEST FRIEND IS FUNNY?!"

"Mr. Roth, what the hell!"

Nicky didn't even stick around to see what Mr. Randall was going to say next. He just threw the chair at Seth, and ran out of the room, straight to the bathroom.

He decided to just hide in one of the stalls until the day was over. It seemed easier than going back out there and dealing with whatever those stupid people had to say to him next.

He curled in on himself, hugging and burying his face into his knees.

"I miss you so much, Aaron.", he sobbed. "Why did you do it, Aaron? Why did you leave me?"

If only Aaron could answer back to him.

[deacons-wig]

Hello! I posted this link a few months ago when my best friend's cat Dani had bladder issues sending him in and out of emergency vet care for over two months. Since then, my friends have had some rough waters withe their own heath, and then... Dani broke his leg. They don't know how. They were out of the house for two hours and came home to find him injured. He's on the road to a full recovery and they are trying everything to give him a long and healthy life. On top of this, their senior cat Tempi (who I love so much and lived with for five years) is having severe allergies. All told this has racked up a staggering amount of vet bills and my friends are fundraising to help recuperate. If you can spare anything or signal boost, that would be most welcome. I am also offering doodles as thank you gifts if you donate. I can draw OCs, pet portraits, fantart, anything you want! Just DM me a screenshot of your GFM receipt and we'll talk.

Thank you gift examples!

[renee-writer]

A Rescue Chapter 40

AO3

“Hello, are you Claire?” She lifted her gardening hat back to see him.

 

“Yes, how many I help you?”

 

“I am Alex Randall and I…” She is up and running towards the house before he can finish his statement.

 

“Miss, I don’t mean you…” she hears him say before reaching the safety of the house. Ellen, who was heading out, stops her forward momentum when she crashes into her.

 

“Claire, what in heavens?”

 

“Sorry, I… Randall… there is…” “ She takes her arms, steading her. Alex stands at the door she left open.

 

“I didn’t mean to startle her.” He says. Claire buried her head in Ellen’s shoulder. She looks at him.

 

“I am Ellen Fraser, mistress here.”

 

“Alex Randall. I just wanted to tell her I am sorry for all my brothers did. I vow I am not like them.”

 

“Ellen I…”

 

“Shh Mon ghra, I am here. Let’s hear him out, eh?”

 

After a second, she nods against her.

 

“I know the evil things they did. I get your reaction to my name, Claire.”

 

She slowly lifts her head. Softly, heard only by Ellen, she repeats the mantra, ‘ they are dead. I am safe.’ Pulling in her increased inner strength, she turns and faces him.

 

“I haven’t good memories of those that bare your name. My instincts were to run.”

 

“Look, I get that. Totally. May I speak with you?”

 

“You may speak with us.”

 

They find seat on the front porch and wait on him to start.

 

“Frank and Jake were my half brothers. We shared a father. I used to see them over the summer holiday, sometimes at Christmas. We weren’t that close. I am ten years younger. By the time I was ten, I knew they were bad news. My mum, she saw it too.

 

That she would have them down, so I could know them, she was a saint that way. But that year, she stopped the visits. Our mutual father, he was furious. They were adults by then but…” he stops to take a breath and settle his mind.

 

I will remember the overheard conversation as long as I live,

 

“I need a break from them. The summers they spend with you, they offer that.”

 

“Not mine or Alex’s  problem. I wanted him to know his brothers, now he does. In truth, he fears them. That is enough to keep them away.”

 

That was the last time I saw my father. He was found dead a week later. His killers remain uncharged.”

 

“They did it.” Claire holds fast to the arm of her chair.

 

“Yes. I believe so. The circumstances point to that. They disappeared for awhile after. The next time I heard anything about them was when I saw your name and Frank’s in the wedding announcement,” He sighs, looking out at the growing fields, “I have said prayers for you every day since.

 

Then when they died. The world is finally free of them. I would change my name but, our father was an honorable man. I don’t know what was in them, their mum remains locked away for trying to smother them when they were infants,” he shakes his head, “was she crazy or did she see the evil in them?

 

I just wanted to apologize for my family, what is left of it, for all the pain they caused you.”

 

Ellen and Claire are stunned by his story. It takes them a moment to process.

 

“Thank you Alex. I am sorry for how I reacted to you.”

 

“Claire, you were smart too. That name is… well, I pray to redeem it some.”

 

“I am sure you will. “ Ellen says.

 

“Thank you both for listening. I will be going now.”

 

“Would you like to stay for lunch?” Ellen offers.

 

“Thank you but no.”

 

“I am sorry about your father.” They stand with him.

 

“Thank you. I am sorry about everything.”

 

He walks away. They take a moment to watch him.

 

“Are you alright Claire?”

 

“I am. Knowing they aren’t all evil, that it was truly nothing I did, they were evil from the get, it helps.”

 

Ellen nods.

[nysocboy]

Hello. I hope this note finds you well.

Are you the NYSocBoy who also maintains the EverydayHeterosexism blog on Blogger.com? I was trying to access a post from your Gay Celebrity Dating Stories blog, but the link didn't work. Would you be willing to share the information that was in this post with me: https://gaycelebritystories.blogspot.com/2018/01/randall-dates-3-stars-of-rebel-without.html

I would appreciate it. I'm an entertainment journalist, and I believe one of the Rebel actors this man mentioned was William Hopper, whom I'm hoping to write something about. It's not easy to find information about him, so any help you could offer would be appreciated.

Thank you for producing such an entertaining and prolific blog!

Best,

Diane Snyder

DianeLisaSnyder@gmail.com (917-373-3076)

Hi, Diane,

Sorry, I deleted the Gay Celebrity Stories blog a long time ago, but I'll check to see if there's a William Hopper story in my files

[luthienne]

hello honey!! finding you and everything you post has honestly changed me as a person and made me develop a huge interest in writing and poetry so thank you!! a while back you posted a beautiful compilation post about the relationship between mothers and daughters and you have a tag dedicated to that relationship. i was wondering if you had anything similar concerning the relationship between children and their fathers? maybe you have and i just completely missed it but anything you have to offer would be greatly appreciated. as always, keep being inspiring and lovely in every possible way and thank you so much :)

“Do you believe me if I say I only ever wanted / to be worthy of my father’s grief? / Of the kind of obsession that nearly drowns us?”

“‘Read poems as prayers,’ he said,”

“Father of shivering times crazed by each spring’s demand / Why would you know your daughter?”

“i am not afraid of men only of forgiving / my father without meaning to”

sarah kay, “hand-me-downs” / tatiana luboviski-acosta, “[untitled]” / daughter, “the woods” / julian randall, from “icarus imposter syndrome” / susanne sundfør, from “father father” / seamus heaney, opened ground / li-young lee, from “the gift” / stromae, “papaoutai” / susanne sundfør, “father father” / b.h. fairchild, from “the machinist, teaching his daughter to play the piano” / joan murray, “on looking at left fields” / cathy linh che, from “becoming ghost” / safia elhillo, “the persistence of damage” / elizabeth lindsey rogers, from “questions about the father" / desireé dallagiacomo, from sink; “origin story”

[fireemblemtcg]

“The Cipher Frontier!” Issue 58: “Cipher Will Never Die!”

"The Cipher Frontier! With Emma, Shade, Yuzu, Randal, Alice, Val, Niamh & Poe" was a regular column on the Fire Emblem Cipher website which summarized upcoming news concerning Cipher and other Fire Emblem materials. It was presented by the eight mascot characters. The following is a full translation of the 58th and final issue of the column, which was originally published on 31 March 2021.

More Fire Emblem Cipher translations!

Hello, everybody!!!!!!!!

It's been over five years since Cipher launched - and, for that matter, The Cipher Frontier! itself...

And today... we bring you the last one!

Sniff... So this is really it...

Aye, it certainly is a bitter occasion.

With the moment upon us, I find myself overcome with emotion. Yet at the same time, I cannot help but sorely wish that this day had never come at all.

Well, it... It doesn't bother m-m-me... Not... one...

BWAAAAAAAAAAAH! I C-C-CAN'T TAKE THIS!

E-easy, milady! You swore before we began that you would not cry!

I, too, owe very, very much to all of you, so... I am very sad.

Where there is a beginning, so too shall there be an end... It is an inevitability.

Still, one might argue that as long as there are still decks to play with and opponents to challenge... Cipher may be played for eternity. So think not on this as the end, for this is but a milestone of life.

Sniff... So this isn't farewell?

Not in the least! All of our players can still continue to get together to play Cipher. So as sad as you might be now to see the game end, the feeling won't last! And I, for one, would like to close out our final day with a smile.

To that end, I propose that we all share some parting words. You first, Emma!

Alrighty! Well, I've been here since the beginning, but... Back then, I was an absolute noob, wasn't I? I didn't have the faintest idea what a "Tea See Gee" even was!

But then I learned so much from Shade, and I presented news, participated in Tryout and Gathering events, and watched Live Broadcasts - and all of that gave me the chance to grow so much.

And then as the days went by, we got to meet Yuzu and Randal, Alice and Valjean, and Niamh and Poe, and we all always had a riot of a time playing Cipher together... It's all been like something out of a dream!

Lastly, I just want to say thank you...

To all of you who've been reading our column to date, thank you tho thuch!

Ha! Is that a slip of the tongue I hear?

Why, I do believe it was... And of all the words to flub, at that.

H-heh heh heh! I guess I am still just a kid after all... But mark my words, I'll be working even harder to become a mature, full-fledged knight! Okay, let's try this again... Thank you all!

Well, I'm next! I was primarily tasked with hosting this column and presenting news.

But the work introduced me to more and more friends, and to a constant stream of announcements that were news to me myself... To lose it is like I've also lost my reason to exist, but at least I am left with fond memories of it all.

My desire to convey the appeal of Cipher to others hasn't wavered in the slightest, but... this is the last time it will ever happen here. Alas. Still, I will always be rooting for all of you, even if we don't see each other.

There will always be a bond between us - always. Remember that whenever you play Cipher and see our cards. On this, you have my word! This has been Shade, shepherd of wayward lambs, saying farewell!

Alright, then. You're next, Yuzu!

...

Huh? Yuzu! What's gotten into you? Would you just get out here?

Er, forgive me. When everybody's gaze turned upon me, I could not help but immediately seek shelter...

Oh, yeah. You never did like public speaking, did you, Yuzu?

Of course! We had a devil of a time convincing you to come out at all for your very first column.

E-enough! That was many years ago: a d-d-difficulty that I have long since moved past!

Hrr-hrr-hrr... heh-HEM! L-l-let us, er, begin anew.

I am Yuzu. My contribution to this column was to introduce cards that afforded new styles of play... only to let a haze of utter passion promptly consume me and hence spend my every waking hour crafting decks from them and trialling them in matches.

You always were one to cry, "I must test these cards at once!" and throw yourself into obsessive research.

As such, I have acquired an eye for strategy, forged in the fires of Cipher, to incorporate into my prior mastery of the martial arts - and with that, at long last, I have come to an understanding of the very heart of warcraft.

Further, as a consequence I may declare with confidence that, should I ever find my brother, I shall be able to hold my head high for all that I have grown in his absence. For that, you have my most heartfelt gratitude. So end my parting words!

Thank you, Yuzu. Right, it's your turn, Randal!

Huh? Oh, right then!

I've got a motto: always take your games deathly serious, and always make your own fun on the job… And, well, this has been my chance to prove those words true.

I mean yeah, I'm a wanderer at heart; I might've stuck around a bit too long... but that's just because this was all a hell of a lot of fun.

Oh, I agree... It was a HELL of a lot of fun!

GAH! It's... It's you!

Well, well. We have a stranger among us!

Pah! "Stranger," indeed. This hair, this face, this ribbon... None of this ring a bell?

Eh? Do you... do you mean Randal?

Indeed! I am...

...His son, no? It is nice to meet you!

OI!

What are you on about?! I AM Randal, just from the past - younger than the one you know!

It's happening again! The exact same argument!

This really must be the end, if HE'S here...

This is how you treat me? I have to hear that the last column is happening at the eleventh hour and make a mad dash to make it in time?! Bloody hell...

What is this? A being under the thrall of the Boundless Chaos? How intriguing. I must conduct a thorough examination at once...

H-hey! What are you doing, Niamh?! You look deathly serious... Oi, that's enough! Stay back! I... I've got a sword!

Well, er, I'm just about all out of time, but I just want to say it was a hoot being on the Frontier. Hope I see you all again someday. Adios!

He vanished?! Still more intriguing...

Sigh... What a pain in the arse, if I do say so myself. Although... I must admit, we do agree on one thing: I'd also be glad to see you all again.

This might be one farewell, but here's hoping we cross paths once more! And if we do, hey, why not play a match with this old fart? And that's all she wrote from ol' Randal!

Thank you. Next, let's hear from Alice and Valjean!

Heh heh! At last! Shall we, Val?

Yes, milady.

The two of us made our debut circa Series 10, and ever since that day, the Frontier never failed to be a most thrilling time. Would you agree, Val?

Yes, milady.

My objective in making this journey was simple: to experience much in my travels, such that I might someday return home and become a great ruler indeed. But instead, I first became a most superior, most brilliant Cipher player! Utterly invincible! Favored by fortune! And whatnot. Didn't I, Val?

Yes, milady.

I remember... that every time a Cipher release day came, I would be up all night from their eve, crafting decks and playing matches with the others. Oh, it was such fun! Wasn't it, Val?

...Yes, mi... mi... milady! Sniff...

V-Val?! What is the matter with you?

I am most moved. That my most capricious liegelady could at last find in Cipher such an engaging hobby, such good company, and such a source of training - and that she could grow so greatly as a woman.

Val...

We have been truly blessed to have had all of this: all of you, who welcomed us so warmly into the Frontier fold, and all of the Cipher players out in the world. I wish to offer you my gratitude for everything.

To be honest... I have something to say on that matter myself. Thank you, truly, for everything. I will never, ever, ever, EVER forget even a single day that we spent here together!

Nor shall I!

...Having said that, milady, I fear that you are still yet unready for the throne! From today onward, we must redouble your original leadership training efforts! I fully intend to prepare for you an intensive study regimen.

I-I-I beg your pardon?! You will not speak to me so! If I see even a single incorrect mark, you would do well to prepare yourself, for I will work you to the very bone for the rest of your days!

By all means, do it. But be prepared, for I have a lifetime's worth of admonishments at the ready.

Heh... Best of luck to the two of you!

Your turn, Niamh!

I was present from the 37th column onward... To be precise, it was in the "Love and Bonds Special Talk CD" audio drama that came as a set with an artbook, sold at Comiket 93.

My inquiry and research into the miscellaneous phenomena of this world, and the Boundless Chaos in particular, shall continue, but...

...

Well?! Don't tell me that's all you have to say!

...No. To me, my inquiry into Cipher represented the introducton of a new, major challenge into my life. Cipher decks... Gameplay... Which solution is correct, and which is optimal... As yet, I still have found no answers. As such, it is vital that going forward, I collaborate with a broad sample of Cipher players and find an answer...

So what you're saying is, you enjoyed playing Cipher with everyone, and you're gonna keep playing forever!

That, er... Ahem! That's pretty much it.

Cryptic remarks if I ever heard them, but certainly Niamh-ish.

Right, let's keep this going with Poe!

Only a year and a half has passed since I was welcomed to this column, and sadly, in the end our association has been brief. But I was able to have a very fulfilling time with you.

Attending that Winter Comiket thing with all of you, playing the "Recite and Play: Heroes Iroha" card game being sold there... They were very happy days.

And in all of that, I have always been monitoring Niamh...

...

Hee hee... You have been a good girl here, have you not? I do nothing to good girls.

If one of you becomes wicked, at that time I shall... Heh... Heh heh heh heh heh...

So, I pray that we never have an unpleasant reunion, and end my speech. Thank you. This has been Poe!

Heh... Let's keep that warning in mind.

...With that, have all of us spoken?

Tsk tsk... We aren't actually finished just yet! Since this is our last column, allow me to call upon a special guest!

...A guest? Wait, you don't mean...

Ta-daaaaa! Here he is!

Hello, everyone! I am Kawade, the producer of Fire Emblem Cipher.

K-K-KawadeP!

My, what a surprise!

The publication of the final Frontier coincides with, at last, the end-of-March termination of event support for Cipher. So I thought I would share a message for all of our readers and Cipher players.

If you count from when Cipher was first announced, roughly six years have passed. That's a long time, yet it's just flown by... These have been very busy years, but also wonderful ones, absolutely full of memories and events.

In that time we've constantly taken on new challenges - not just the production of Cipher itself, but Twitter content, live broadcasts, and staging events all around Japan.

And through all of that, we've had the chance to meet so many fans of Fire Emblem and Cipher... That was not only the most fun part of all, but a part that made us happy.

Although, we were unfortunately unable to hold any of our planned events for our final year, and for that I am truly sorry to all of you.

Still, we staff stuck with it to the very end, and as a result were able to complete Cipher as a fantastic game that can be played for years and years to come. For that, we are proud of ourselves.

It was thanks to all of you, who kept on supporting us, that we could continue our work to this standard all the way to the final series. I am overcome with gratitude to you all!

Production might have come to an end, but Fire Emblem Cipher will never die! It would make me happy if, every now and then, you might bring your cards out and play with them. Thank you all, truly, for everything!

And that concludes KawadeP's remarks!

Whew!

That, I believe, is everything that we wished to share.

Aye, I've got nothing to add.

So I suppose this is it: the end of the Cipher Frontier's long run.

Er... Shade? Can I say one last thing?

Hm? What is it, Emma?

Thank you for taking the lead in hosting this last one... And thank you so much for all the things you've taught me!

(Emma...)

H-hey! That's enough of that! You're about to make me cry, and that wouldn't be ending this day with a smile, would it?

Heh. I guess not!

So hey, let's give them one last, enthusiastic That Thing before Shade bursts into tears!

Very well, then. That Thing it is! This has been The Cipher Frontier!

With Emma...

Shade...

Yuzu...

Randal...

Alice...

Val...

Niamh...

...and Poe.

Now, then...

Let's do it, everyone!

One...

Two...

CIPHER!!!!!!!!

THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING, EVERYBODY!!!!!!!!

...

...

...

...

FIRE EMBLEM CIPHER The Cipher Frontier! With Emma, Shade, Yuzu, Randal, Alice, Val, Niamh & Poe

Emma Emma continues to train in order to become a full-fledged pegasus knight. Her tireless Cipher training also continues, but she has yet to show much improvement at the game.

Shade Veteran mage that she is, Shade continues to teach the next generation. Many seeking to become almighty Cipher players have come to her, only to struggle bitterly under her tutelage - yet at the same time, to Emma and the others, she remains a nurturing guiding hand.

Yuzu Yuzu embarked on a journey of martial training, all the while following whispers of her brother's whereabouts... although evidently, she does return from her travels from time to time, bearing souvenirs, to partake in Cipher matches with all of her friends.

Randal Randal made a truly once-in-a-lifetime wager, only to go into hiding thereafter. Some rumors attest that he won, and that with that windfall he secured for himself a carefree life of quiet leisure in some southern land - others, that he met with a catastrophic loss, and was hence forced into labor in someplace.

Alice Alice's travels continue, as she seeks all the experience that she needs to become a true leader. Although at first she struggled, she grew to thoroughly enjoy it, and so she will persist in her journey without ever taking a break to return home... Or so she tells herself, at least.

Valjean Valjean continues to travel all across the land with his liegelady. Witnessing Alice grow ever stronger and wiser by the day, he cannot help but feel conflicting feelings of joy and loneliness beneath the privacy of his helm.

Niamh Even as she continues in her pursuit of wisdom, Niamh silently carries out research into Cipher. Her seminal monograph, "A Compendium of Cipher Decks," is over 100 volumes in length, and by all accounts is still in print to this day.

Poe Poe vanished in her hunt for evil, and her whereabouts remain unknown. However, according to the afterword of "A Compendium of Cipher Decks," she and Niamh have since fought to the death on many an occasion.

The End...???

[glassbxttless]

I’m taking a tiny break from my requests to write stuff that’s been pooling in my brain for a while now, so how about a Modern!AU where Han and Leia are great hippy dippy parents and they’ve got three boys who all have their own shit going on? Cool?

And maybe Sunny gets to meet them here 😬

I broke this into multiple parts, Have fun (:

Matt Solo x Reader

Part One

Word Count: 1,000

Warnings: swearing

“How come I’ve never met your family?” You ask as you pause the movie you’d been watching on your laptop, taking your headphones out. Matt was sitting at your dining room table working on whatever paperwork he’d been sent home from work with, Delilah curled up in his lap.

“Because my mother is busy, my father is busy, Randy is awkward around women, and Ben is a piece of shit.” He says without skipping a beat, flipping a page over to sign his name on another.

“I wanna meet them. You talk so nicely of your mom.” You say quietly and turn to look at him.

“Maybe for Christmas.” He mumbles. And he says that every year.

“Matty… come on.” You say quietly. “You see Randy everyday and you’ve never let me meet him.”

“Sunny, come on babe.” He sighs as he looks up from the paperwork to meet your eyes. “I’m sparing you the crazy.”

“And you aren’t crazy?” You raise an eyebrow and that just brings a smile to his lips. “I just want to meet the family I’m marrying into.” You wink at him before pressing in one of your earbuds. And at that Matt feels obligated to make arrangements for it, even if he hates it.

And that’s how he ends up bouncing on his toes on the front stoop of his parents brownstone. He was nervous, he hadn’t been here in years. Especially not with his brothers and father all in the same household at the same time. “Don’t be nervous.” You say to him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He was showing more nerves that you were.

And when Leia opened the door, her eyes were soft, immediately drawn to you. Matt had said he was seeing someone a while back, that you’d been together for a good chunk of time, and that he was happy. She smiles, “oh Matthew.” She pulls him into a tight hug and kisses his head, “you need more sleep, look at you.” She chuckles as she pulls away to hug you as well. “Your dad is in the living room.”

And that’s when Matt starts shifting his weight back and forth. “We brought a pie.” He says softly and holds up the box in his hands, passing it to his mother, as he hears the familiar screech of tires and he immediately rolls his eyes. “Go inside, sunshine.” He mumbles and kisses your head gently. Leia takes a deep breath and just leads you into the home. All you could notice were plants at first. Throughout the entryway, spilling into the surrounding rooms. There were two male figures in the living room. One rocking in a recliner and the other sprawled out on the couch.

“Randall, up. Make room.” Leia says softly. Leaving you standing there to place the pie into the refrigerator.

Matt lingers by the door as Ben takes a few steps up, offering him a cigarette which he gladly takes. “Didn’t think you’d be the one to call the family meeting.” Ben chuckles.

“My fiancée wants to meet everyone.” He mumbles before he takes a long drag from the cigarette. “And keep your dick in your pants. Last time my partner met you— you slept with her.”

“Oh, one mistake. You gonna hold that over me forever?” Ben frowns flicking the ashes away.

“As long as you don’t fuck her.” He tosses the butt into the garden, knowing his mother would be on his ass— or Ben’s— as soon as she found it. “I’ll be fine.” He shrugs and let’s them both into the house, pulling you into a deep kiss as soon as he can get his hands on you. He makes sure it’s right in front of Ben too. “Are you enjoying your visit?” He chuckles softly.

“You haven’t introduced me.” She says softly and smiles. Matt just rolls his eyes, “that’s Ben.” He points over his shoulder as Ben just waves to say hello. “And Randy and my dad.” He gestures as Han finally turns in his chair to look you both over.

“Didn’t think Matt would be the one getting married... again.” He chuckles softly. You bite your thumb nail and just sigh quietly. Matt squeezes your hip.

“We aren’t talking about that this weekend.” He says, voice strong and so similar to his brothers’. And upon seeing the rest of their faces, you concluded that the whole family was attractive.

By dinner you’ve listened to Ben and Matt both get into it with Han, Leia yell at Randy and Matt, Matt almost bust Ben in the jaw. And when you’re seated at the table, Leia sits next to Randy— smoothing hair away from his face as he tells some story about the interns. Matt eats quietly, feeling Han’s eyes on him. Was the only one of his kids to end up finishing college and getting a decent job. And he’d landed himself a really sweet girl, he’d decided you were pretty alright.

Ben starts telling stories about Matt as a teenager, smiling big and dopey. “Remember telling him all about girls. Was the fucking best.” He laughs all happy and shakes his head. “Shared a room with him and I remember when he brought his first little girlfriend home—”

“That’s enough, Ben.” Leia chuckles but you just smile.

“No it’s okay! I wanna hear more.” You grin at Matt who’s blushing fire truck red. And Han who’s laughing softly at the end of the table. “I can’t imagine having a house full of boys.” You say softly.

“You’ll understand when you two start having kids.” Leia smiles softly. And then that’s when Matt stops the conversations altogether.

“Mom, thank you for dinner. Ben, stop eyefucking my girlfriend.” He wipes his mouth, “Randy, you can talk to her, she won’t bite. And dad, goodnight.” He hums as he stands up, leaving you sitting there with his family as he disappears into the first room on the left down the hall.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

*

*

@sacklerscumrag @mrs-zimmerman @miraclesabound @fizzywoohoo @roanniom @thepriceofstars @2000andwhat @loganluckylover

[magnoliasinbloom]

Lie To Me - 2

There is room for secrets, but not for lies. Is there a place for their love?

AO3 :: Previously

“What do we think of the wee fox cub?”

Claire whips around, medical chart in hand, to face Geillis. The smirk on her friend’s face is a little too much; Claire rolls her eyes and goes back to jotting notes. They’re halfway through the night shift, and she needs to focus on her patients, not on James Fraser.

“He’s alright, I suppose. Don’t think I’ll meet him again.”

“Ye didna exchange numbers? What is wrong wi’ ye, woman?”

Claire shrugs. “He was fine. Handsome of course, polite, attentive. But the ink is barely dry on the papers, G, and my work hours are intense. So are his, from what I could gather. I don’t want a new relationship that’s doomed to fail from the start.”

“Who says it has to be a relationship, love? Why couldn’t ye just have some fun with the lad? I’m sure he’d be all for it.”

What she doesn’t say is how the mere thought of Jamie’s blue eyes makes her head spin and recalling the coppery red waves of his hair brings a smile to her face. He had been charming and eloquent and seemed just so bloody normal, after everything she’d gone through with Frank. It had felt good to know she was desirable, even if just for one night.

“G, no offense, but I’m not like you. I can’t have a one-night stand to scratch an itch, no matter how attractive he is.”

“None taken.” Geillis grins wickedly. “Ye ken how much I enjoy it, just thought ye might consider it as well.”

Claire says nothing. Finishing with the chart, she deposits it at the nurses’ station before moving on to her rounds; Geillis is on her tail and unwilling to drop the subject.

“Meetin’ for a coffee is not a crime. Ye should look him up. Ye said he works for Leoch?”

“He’s nephew to the owners. Big family business. I’m sure he wouldn’t have time.”

“Ye didna even ask—”

“Well, neither did he! So, I suppose he wasn’t that into me after all.” Claire will not admit how much she had hoped Jamie would ask for her contact information; she had been too proud to offer it herself. A small part of her wonders if he’s the sort who will look her up online. She has almost no social media presence, however, and remembers that all her accounts are under her former husband’s name, Randall.

Geillis’s phone chirps with a text. She huffs, harried, and walks away from Claire. “It’s like ye dinna trust the eyes in yer heid, ye dolt. Anyone could see he wanted ye.” She turns and waves at her. “Rawlings wants me to assist. Talk to ye later, Beauchamp.”

Claire knows she is right. She can’t trust her eyes or any part of herself after what Frank did to her. It has been a year since she found him kissing his executive assistant in his office, but being deceived and betrayed still hurts.

She doesn’t know how much time it will take for her to trust again.

X-x-X

Geillis bursts into the doctors’ locker room, startling a half-dressed Claire.

“C, promise ye willna be angry wi’ me.”

“Why, what did you do?” Claire pushes her mad curls away from her face and tugs her shirt into place.

“Promise first.”

“I can’t promise to something I know nothing about.” Claire pulls her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. She’s familiar with Geillis’s dramatics and is willing to wait her out.

“I’ll have ye remember that ye did say ye didna want anything to do wi’ him, so I wasna doing anything wrong—”

“Jesus H, Geillis Edgars, out with it!” So much for patience.

“I called James Fraser and gave him yer number.”

“What?!” Claire shakes her head, sure she heard G wrong. “What on earth possessed you to do that?”

Geillis removes her own scrubs, talking as she heads for the showers. “Well, I thought I might have a go at the wee fox cub, given as how ye didna want him yerself. Am I still correct in assuming this?”

“Get on with it, G, before I strangle you. Keep talking or I’ll follow you into the shower stall.”

“I searched online for the Leoch company number, which sent me to an operator. I asked her to connect me to a James Fraser, and that was it. Quite easy, actually.” The steady pounding of the water almost drowns her out, but Claire needs more information.

“Did you ask him out, for a coffee or dinner or drinks?” And why does she care so much?

“Drinks, aye. He politely said no and asked for yer mobile number instead.” Geillis flips the shower off and wraps herself in a towel Claire hands her. “If ye weren’t my dear, dear friend I’d be offended.”

“Would you?” Claire laughs outright. “What else did he say?”

“He wanted to know if ye’d be agreeable to going out. If he could call ye.”

“And what did you say?”

Their conversation is cut short by the shrill notes of Claire’s ringtone. She digs it out of her jeans pocket and glances at the unknown number. Urged by Geillis, she taps the green icon and answers with a breathy, “Hello?”

“Claire? It’s Jamie.  Jamie Fraser.”

***

A/N: Thank you for your wonderful response! <3 

[jellidile]

Petals in the Wind Chapter 3

Awakening in the legendary city of Pacheco Delphinium speaks with yet more familiar faces... Not to mention the mysterious Lord who rescued her in the first place.

Once again I was broken out of my introspection by yet more familiar voices. The shrill joyous laugh of a child mixed with the whoops and howls of werewolves. 

I saw Randall first, a steely gray wolf who stood taller than I. His large sweeping tail somehow missed all the expensive decorations the lavish castle had to offer, but I still found myself moving towards the excitement. Upon getting closer the small form of a child rode in on the shoulders of a short red-headed, and wild haired woman, Abbott. Willow laughed and laughed as the dogs jostled her around taking extra care not to hurt what I assumed they would affectionately be calling her, little puppy. 

Abbott stopped dead as she looked down the hall, her yellow eyes staring directly at me,

“Mcgowan?” I smiled looking to her,

“Just call me Delphinium, Abbott. I don’t want to be related to the Mcgowan’s anymore.” There was a silence before Abbott rushed forward and held me tightly. Willow giggled, hugging my head and Randall curled around us. The embrace was warm and full of smiles. It felt like what I had assumed being in a family to feel like. Abbott backed away but cupped my face,

“You… You look so much happier Delphinium! I’m so happy you’re here. I’m happy you’re not going back.” Randall made a sort of gruff wolf noise in reply to Abbott and she huffed, 

“Well o’course I don’t mean it to be rude Randall, but the poor thing was getting treated like… well me. No living soul deserves abuses like that, least of all Delphinium. Which by the way, Randall and I thank you for helping us Delphinium. If you need anything from us you just let us know, alright darling?” I smiled as Randall headbutt my shoulder gently before resting his head on mine. The werewolf had explained to me through the silver chains my family had bound him with that he preferred being a wolf over being a human. The form feeling right over the body he’d been born with. I remembered Abbott saying she’d felt the same about her own body. How she’d been born into the wrong one, and after she’d been bit by Randall and changed for that first time she knew who she really was,

“Wolves don’t lie. They see beyond your eyes and fur. All wild wolves know, and welcome Moon wolves- it’s what they call us werewolves- but they see farther than that. They saw who Randall and I really are.” 

The werewolves doted over me as Willow climbed down and suddenly jumped onto my leg,

“Hello Del! Mommy’s gonna have my baby sibling soon!” The werewolves stopped and picked her up squishing her gently, 

“That’s right puppy! And we’re here to look after you and your brother while she focuses on… uh…” Randall barked, as Abbott smiled, 

“Right! She’s gotta command the Storks to bring the little pup here! Vampire powers and all that.” Willow nodded, totally believing the lie. Abbott nodded before looking around and sighing,

“Willow, speaking of your siblings, where’s Valere?” She smiled sweetly, innocently, 

“With Mommy and Daddy.” The werewolves groaned and I spoke up, feeling for them, 

“I can go send him away. I still haven’t seen Rodriguez and Penelope yet.” Randall made a series of gentle barks and grumbles, Abbott nodded in agreement before turning to me, “Sure darling, just ask him to go to the fountain courtyard. We’ll get out of your hair. Say hello to Alistair for us if you happen to see him!” The wolves trotted down the hall as Willow waved goodbye to me. I turned to ask Sybil where the vampires were but I caught only the faraway sight of Tabitha on a cloud and the distant view of the blonde Lilith and Sybil zooming around the sky with a few other figures that I didn’t recognize. The mansion grew quiet, and the halls long. I started down the hall the wolves had come down, with luck I’d find the family or perhaps a member of the house staff. But the more I walked the quieter the house seemed to become. 

Two candles flanking a door blew out as a cold gust of wind pushed past me, creaking open the door. I could never explain the feeling but the need to enter the room was like a dread filled curious pull. I shouldn’t have, but I entered that room and found a quiet reading room filled with flowers. Bookshelves covered the walls and a fireplace sat dusty and unused under the watchful presence of two armchairs. Though the mantle too was covered in flowers of which I couldn’t make out in the darkness, I noticed what looked to be a covered painting on the wall above. My feet tiptoed across the floor without my knowledge. But I bumped into a table between the chairs and there was a slow pluck from a music box. Although I heard only one note I recognized it immediately. I glanced down to the twinkling music box, the light from outside hitting the gems that decorated it. The wind up key was still in its place and after a few turns I let the small metal ballroom dance. Just as I had suspected, the song it played was identical to what I had heard in my dream. Now the notes were clear and strong. I listened as intensely as I could to try and remember where I knew the song from because I did know it… but from where? The words I knew the song had were right on the tip of my tongue but no words would fill in this blank.

Knock knock,

“H-Hello?” I turned and gasped at the imposing figure standing at the door. With a wave of their hand the candles and fire around the room jumped to life. Alistair was illuminated by the glow of the firelight, the shadows making him look cross. So too were the many coloured stalks of delphinium flowers that were scattered and seemed to memorialize as well as decorate the room. I sputtered as the music did too, the song coming to a disjointed end. Alistair stepped forward and passed me for an especially blue stalk by one of the bookshelf counters. I stood nearly shaking, he was an imposing figure and I knew he was powerful. The last thing I wanted to do was inspire distrust in him since I quite liked what this new life was shaping up to be. No need to end it prematurely…

He handled the dried blooms delicately. His deep ruby eyes inspected the flowers deeply, searching for something with no particular haste. His voice was quiet, 

“Do you care for your namesake at all? The flowers that is.” I fiddled with my hands slowly walking beside Alistair, 

“Sure I like the flowers. But it’s not like I’ve ever been around them. They weren’t allowed in the village.” Alistair put down the flowers as I traced the petals of a pink delphinium,

“Oh? Then how do you know them at all?” 

“Books,” I replied smiling to myself, “I spent hours bedridden having nothing to do but read. I traced the pictures so many times the ink wore thin.” As angry as I’d assumed him to be, he seemed to be just as melancholy as ever. He sighed, as he turned away I turned too. Just  watching him walk memoratively tracing his hands around leaving trails in the dusty surfaces of the room. He paused looking at the painting before staring down at the music box. He stared at me for a moment, for a moment I saw his skin become rosy, there was the ghost of smile, but the vision flickered till his porcelain white skin and blank, yet… pointed expression stared back at me. I wanted to say something, anything- but the words wouldn’t come. Alistair hummed, 

“You aren’t in trouble, you know. All the off limits areas are locked and guarded. I do wonder how you found yourself here though… Not many enter this room, fewer still wind up the music box.” I swallowed thickly, even though he gave good news, his voice tilted. He was looking for something in my reply, 

“I don’t know. I just felt drawn here. What did you use the room for?” Alistair beckoned me to follow him outside the room, waving the candles to snuff their flames as we left, 

“It was a reading room for… Someone who lived with me long long ago. They passed away so I filled their favourite room with their favourite flowers in remembrance. You are welcome to read the material there. I just ask you to mind the flowers, yes?” I nodded captivated with his every word as he basically glided beside me. His pace perfectly matched mine in an effortless manner that gave an air of regality to him. As we walked in silence I thought back to what the witches had gotten me thinking about. It wouldn’t be rude to ask, right? I mean I deserved to know what had so suddenly compelled the statue-like vampire to save me: A dying, timid, and plain girl who’s cruel family had been his jailors. Only to create a burden or a damper at the very least, to a large group of weak and injured people needing to move as quickly as possible. “Alistair,” I began, unsure exactly how to word the question. He looked to me, coming to a full stop. I swallowed thickly,

“Or should I call you My Lord? Lord Alistair-” “Just… Alistair, is fine. Please, speak your mind.” There was a deep breath before I spoke. A false confidence settling into my bones,

“Why did you save me…?” He was still. Eerily so. There was a familiarity in his posture, his hand twitched… He didn’t meet my gaze. (Like he always did when he was hiding something-) What? Why- How did I know that? Was it even true? Alistair coughed looking miserable as he motioned toward the door beside us, 

“Rodriguez and Penelope are here. Have a pleasant day Delphinium.” and with that… Away he went. Cape spread behind him fluttering in the breeze of his strides.

I stood outside the door for only a moment longer. To think such a thing… Sybil must’ve given me something strange

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Imagine a still-angry Bree went to Craig na dun straight after Claire told her everything, to check out her mother's story, fell through the stones by mistake and met Jamie first.

The High Road and the Low Road - Part One

Brianna needed to get out of the house and just… away. She couldn’t stand to look at her mother just then and when she’d turned to Roger she’d been disappointed by what she found there. She’d thought they understood one another, thought he’d be on her side – the reasonable side.

But there had been something in his face as he looked at Claire Randall. If not outright belief in the ridiculous story she’d concocted to cover up an affair, then he’d at least been looking at her mother like he wanted to believe her. 

And that was the last thing Brianna wanted right then. 

It was Roger’s car. She’d seen him drop the keys in a bowl on the counter when they’d arrived. She looked at the gauge and saw there was a little less than half a tank left. She’d be good for a while. Not that she knew where she was going to go. It just had to be away – and preferably somewhere she could scream where no one would call the police. 

Taking Roger’s car would slow them down if they tried to follow her.

Not if. When. 

She didn’t mean to make it easy for them to find her. 

As soon as she reached the main road, she headed in a direction that would take her away from town and began repeating aloud, “Left side of the road, left side of the road.”

The need to focus on fighting her American instincts and keep from drifting to the other lane actually helped her to calm down. A little. 

She slammed on the brakes when she saw the sign, wincing when a horn blared behind her and another car flew past. 

But then she was along and the rage returned. Craigh na dun. It was absurd that anyone could believe what her mother had said. It was absurd that the very thought of seeing the place was twisting her stomach into knots. 

Gritting her teeth, Brianna put the car back in gear and sped in the direction of the signs. She would see these stones for herself if only to quell that feeling in her stomach, to be able to return to her mother and Roger and give them another telling off. 

It was falling dark as Brianna reached the bottom of the hill and she could just make out the moon peeking between the low tree branches and the standing stones. The bravado of the drive shrank at the eerie sight. 

But there was a stubborn streak that kept her feet moving toward the stones. 

Her ears began to ring and her head to spin as she reached the center of the circle and touched the largest stone.

Pain. In her hand and arm and head. The buzzing in her ears became a scream and it was only as she felt her throat ache she realized she was the one who was screaming.

Her last thought before passing out was that her mother’s description of it all had fallen woefully short. 

*********************************************

She wanted to throw up from fear as much as the nausea in her belly and the ringing headache that threatened to send her back under as soon as she tried to sit up. 

Brianna scrambled backward, away from the stone, to the edge of the circle. The moon still shone in the sky and the stars seemed brighter too. 

A few deep breaths helped to steady her enough to get to her feet. She brushed away grass and dirt that clung to the corduroy of her skirt. 

Turning on her heel, she carefully made her way down the side of the hill in the direction where she’d left the car. With every step she scolded herself for being ridiculous and gullible enough to have let her mother’s tales affect her in such a way. With every step the buzzing and nausea faded and it was easier to tell herself that she had imagined the whole thing. 

She’d taken too many steps. She should have reached Roger’s car by now or at least the solidity of the paved road. 

Brianna turned around, peering into the darkness. Maybe she’d gotten herself turned around and had come down the wrong side of the hill. Making a quarter turn and referencing the gentle incline of the hill, she did her best to circle the hilltop. 

It only made her feel more lost. She would have to wait until it grew lighter to complete her investigation of the hillside. In the meantime, she was getting cold and any chance of a blanket or additional protection from the elements was in the impossible-to-locate-in-the-dark car. (Why did Roger have to own a brown car? Why couldn’t it have been white and reflective?)

She couldn’t just lie down in the open. Looking around, she saw a faint light in the distance and made her way toward it. It didn’t appear to be moving, so not a car. It was dim, muted, so maybe a house with its curtains closed. But she didn’t think there were any houses this close to Craigh na Dun. She hadn’t noticed any as she passed to get there, anyway, but she was hardly an expert on the area and who lived there or where. She just needed someone who could loan her a flashlight or who had a telephone she could use (worrying her mother and Roger a little was one thing but she couldn’t let them go the whole night wondering where she’d gone). 

Drawing nearer, Brianna was confused. It wasn’t a house – it would barely qualify as a shack. There was no door – well, no door left but old fashioned hinges clung to the frame to show there had been a door at one time. The roof appeared to have partially caved in but on the opposite side from where a short chimney stuck out with a faint trail of smoke rising from it. 

Someone must be inside if a fire was lit but was it safe to casually announce her presence?

“Hello?” she called softly, approaching slowly now. “Anybody home? I uh… I’ve gotten myself a bit lost and can’t find the car in the dark – accidentally locked my flash – my torch inside. Do you have one you might… let me… borrow?”

There had been no sound, no sign of movement as she reached the door and decided to poke her head inside.

A low fire burned in a hearth that looked like it might collapse in on itself at any moment. 

A figure was curled on its side on the dirt floor in front of the hearth. It was a boy – probably only a few years younger than herself. Maybe this was some play fort or campsite for him. 

Brianna inched closer to the sleeping boy. “Hey… you,” she hissed but he didn’t stir. She gently nudged him with the toe of her boot. 

Startled awake and confused, the boy rolled toward her with a threatening cry and a dagger in his hand, apparently ready to stab her. 

“Whoa!” Brianna exclaimed, jumping back. “I don’t want trouble,” she promised. “Just looking for a little help is all.”

The boy calmed and relaxed as he woke further and realized he wasn’t actually being attacked. 

“Ye scared the piss right out of me,” he told her, returning the dagger to a safe and concealed place in his belt.

“Who are you?” Brianna asked, stepping forward as the boy got to his feet. 

“Ian Murray, ma’am,” he said, smiling and inclining his head toward her. “And what should I call you?”

“Brianna, but you can call me Bree.”

*********************************************

Claire hadn’t gone to bed and so Roger hadn’t either (though, he had dozed off and on in his chair by the fire). She spend most of the night staring out the window, watching for any sign of Brianna’s return. 

Around five, the light finally beginning to show signs of returning, Roger rose from the chair and stretched, back cracking as he yawned. He went to the kitchen to make tea and toast, returning with a simple tray to try and get Claire to eat something. 

“She couldna have gotten far on thwart was left in that tank,” he explained. Brianna didn’t know how quickly the needle could drop from half a tank to empty. “It’s likely she ran out of petrol, pulled over and spent the night in the back. She’ll have to walk a ways to a phone or wait till someone comes along as can give her a ride.” He offered Claire a steaming cup. 

She took it, forcing a smile and nod of thanks before blowing on it but neglecting to take a sip. 

“I want to believe you, Roger, but I’m afraid Bree is very much her father’s daughter… both of them. That display of temper was all Jamie… the running away afterward…”

“That ye think she learned from Frank?” Roger suggested. 

With a sigh and another nod, Claire admitted, “Unfortunately, yes. And the last time we had a fight and he stormed off into the night, he was killed in a car accident.”

Roger felt his own teacup tremble in his hands at the thought. He set it down carefully as he apologized to Claire. “Christ, I hadna thought – I’m so sorry. If I’d realized – I should ha’ called someone to help and we could ha’ been searching for her through the night.”

Claire shook her head. “No, I’m sure she’s fine, like you said. Going after her might have only made matters worse anyhow. Frasers need to wear out their tempers a bit before you stand a chance of getting through to them.” At last she lifted her cup and took a sip of tea, closing her eyes as she swallowed and visibly willed herself to relax. 

“Well, if she doesna return by lunch and hasna phoned, I’ll see if I can borrow Fiona’s car and you and I can look for her,” Roger promised. “Like I said, she couldna ha’ gone too far.”

As Claire smiled her thanks again, the telephone rang. Claire moved to get it before recalling it wasn’t her house and deferring to Roger. 

He moved quickly and, expecting to hear Brianna on the other end, he answered, “Speak of the devil.”

“Roger?” Fiona’s voice replied. 

Roger covered the receiver long enough to whisper to Claire, “Wrong devil.” 

“Aye, I’m here,” he said louder to Fiona. “Sorry, it’s just… early.” 

“Aye, tis and I wouldna have called so early – I’m a bit relieved ye answered at all. I was afraid… but ye’re there.”

“Aye, why would a not be?”

“Oh… well… Ye mayna ken but – ye see, my gran was part of a… a group. They’re… caretakers, ye might say. And since she passed, I took her place in the group.”

“Caretakers of what?”

“The standing circle at Craigh na Dun,” Fiona explained. 

Roger felt himself growing colder, thought he must be paler from the step Claire took towards him. 

“We take it in turns to visit them and see any rubbish is cleared up, that they’ve no been defaced and the like,” Fiona went on at a nervous clip. 

Everything around Roger seemed to be slowing, narrowing to a point as his gaze fixed on Claire. 

“Anyhow, I had a call this morning from… another member of the group. They said yer car had been found abandoned near the stones. I worried something might have happened to ye, but–”

“Brianna,” Roger managed to murmur. 

“Brianna Randall?” Fiona asked. 

“Brianna borrowed my car last night,” he explained. “She didna come home.”

“Roger, what’s happened?” Claire asked, forcefully.

[westerhos]

Our Story: Chapter 5

Here marks the middle of our tale, that vast, perilous land between the beginning and the end. The going is treacherous in these parts—the wayward couple must heal on their own, tread the sea of two decades with arms and souls akimbo—but still, it is not unnecessary. The middle is never aimless. Always, always, it has one goal: the ending.

When the lights go up and the curtains close, you clap—perhaps, should the couple reunite (which, of course, they will), you shout “Encore, encore!” But then, at last, you return to your car. You catch the train, or you grab a taxi. At last, having started at the beginning and waded through the middle, you reach the final destination. The night is over; you go home.

Home. Whether a place, a person, a feeling, or a thing—it does not matter. Home is always the goal and the ending, the northernmost star we pray to and walk towards.

[December 24th, 1996]

Two weeks’ vacation in a cabin, tucked deep inside a fold of mountains. Here, amongst the stretches of living nothingness, even the silence has a voice. Owls hoot in the night. The pines’ chatter, their needle-whispers pierced by caws and shifted air—a hawk swooping to ensnare her prey. And if one listens closely enough, one can hear the hunter's a shaky, traitorous breath, which launches the doe across the snow—the echo of his heartsong, the drum to which the doe’s hooves beat. Come back, come back, come back.

This is why Jamie has come here: for the endless conversation between man and mountain, more steadfast than the chill in his heart. In the past four years, Jamie has sold the twin cot (it lies in a salvage yard somewhere, all broken springs and dreams). A different couple has moved into the studio, and when they had spoken of paint jobs—“Perhaps mint green, what d’ye say, hon?”— Jamie had thought, Thank God. He’d happily offered them the keys when they turned to him, pupils dilated with youthful optimism. By that point, there was no space for Jamie and Claire inside that Edinburgh Eden, and so he’d chimed in, “Aye, a bonny color.” (Indeed, the walls are mint now, though a forgotten strip of marigold shines in the northern corner.)

For two years, Jamie has lived with Murtagh in Glasgow, having shed not just his home but his editorial career in publishing. He has grown tired of fixing other’s mistakes—too many of his own in need of correction—and so here he sits on this Christmas Eve, writing towards redemption.

The Grampians are a peaceful place, big hulks of rock scattered with trees—bouquets of fir, oak, and pine cradling other cabins. At dark, their windows flicker, candlelit with the dreams of the aspiring novelists, essayists, playwrights therein. Men and women, all bowed before the cleansing hum of nature’s speech. Like Jamie, they had seen the fliers: WRITER’S RETREAT, TWO WEEKS IN THE MOUNTAINS—and so it was. They were small colony taking its temporary leave, hoping to reconstruct the world according to their own, more favorable terms.

Over supper, the group gathers and shares their ideas: outlines, pieces of dialogue, an inspiring poem they’ve loved since childhood. And while Jamie is generous with his advice, he holds his notebooks against his chest. Enraptured by this warm aloofness (for is it not the way of all great wordsmiths?), the others whisper behind their palms, “Have you read Fraser’s story?” Into napkins, “No, have you?”

But among the fifteen guests, only one has read Jamie’s story—and tonight, Jamie waits for her inside his cabin. His latest draft is fanned around him, some sections highlighted and others slashed. They are not unlike Claire’s old strike-throughs, which had snipped the would-be Dalhousie and eventually, Jamie’s own name, from her life (a reclamation of Beauchamp, a transformation to Randall). Among Jamie’s scribbles are his friend’s edits, which are much more forgiving, much less forceful than the lines of his own red pen. Each comment reads like a bashful request: “More clarity?”, “Switch the verb here?”, “Too many adjectives?” as if she needs permission to occupy the margins. Should I really be reading this?, she seems to say, the bare-backed rawness making her squirm.

But she is helping him, his friend. And so she sees Jamie’s drafts before John, his agent, and before Fergus, his assistant and most loyal advocate. With each comment, she brings him closer to understanding, to the better beginning, middle and end. Note by note, to the way his story (their story, for it can never be Jamie’s alone) should be. All rhymes and logic, had it not veered off-course.

Is Alexander too cold here? Shouldn’t he say something? (He should have.)

It seems out of character for Alexander to never visit his daughter’s grave? (Grief carves cowards out of heroes.)

Shouldn’t he try to win Elizabeth back? (God, yes. He should have tried harder.)

The knock comes three minutes later, as expected.

“Hello?”

“Door’s unlocked.”

“Oh!” A muffled apology, embarrassment for the delay. “Sorry,” the visitor says. “It’s late. Didna ken if ye still wanted to talk or not. I brought—well, I finished reading your last chapter.”

And now another player enters this fifth act, tip-toes quietly onto the stage. Only a slip of a thing in the cabin’s doorway, cheeks pinked by the storm’s sharp nip. She is Jamie’s friend-slash-critique partner, and even her entrance is punctuated by a question mark. The score of owl, pine, hawk and hunter swells, buffeted now by new notes: the crack of chapped lips smiling, the anxious shuffle of papers, and—

“Dinna fash, I couldna sleep anyways,” Jamie assures her. “Did ye like it, though? The new ending?”

His friend inhales sharply, stealing as much oxygen as the room will allow. Everything—the threadbare futon, the TV’s antennae, the welcome mat and Jamie’s body—bends towards some invisible presence. A ghost between between all.

“It was…a bit different from the last one.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘Nay, I didna like it.’”

She looks shyly at the ground, one foot treading nervous circles into the planks.

“It was a bit too sentimental is all. After everything. All that time and silence…D’ye really think Alex and Lizzie could make it?”

Her words are a blow to Jamie’s stomach, and the pages are fire in his hands. He puts them down, wants to thrust himself under a blanket of snow to freeze the flames.

“In a fairy tale, maybe, but life isna a fairy tale. And d’ye no want to write truths?” She looks up, and her eyes gore him. “This story isna a fairy tale either, Jamie. Yours never are.”

“Aye…aye, I s’pose they’re not,” he replies, thinking of his other novels and short stories, essays and poems. Each accepted by John’s gimlet eye, only to meet their end in a publisher’s slush pile. (“Too dark, too wallowing,” an editor once wrote.)  

“Give it another go. I’ll help ye tomorrow, if ye’d like,” his friend offers. “Three days left. I reckon we’ve time to sort the kinks, right the wrongs.” (Three days will never be enough for Jamie’s wrongs.)

“I’d appreciate that, lass. Verra much.”

His friend looks behind her and at the moon, a shy sickle in the sky. It draws her toward the door and the snow-covered mountainside.

“Weel, it’s a long walk back,” she says. “Wanted to give ye that before the morning, so I guess I’ll just…”

“Will ye stay with me tonight?” Jamie blurts. And he hates himself for saying this, the way it sounds outside his mouth and inside his cabin, landing on the unmade bed. Its despair makes it ugly. But.

But if his friend stays, Jamie thinks, perhaps the emptiness will leave. If his friend stays, perhaps his story will correct itself, falling into its natural rhythm, by the force of whatever solace she can give him.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” he continues, “and I…I dinna want to be alone.”

She pauses, thinks it over before saying, “Okay. Just for a bit?” (Just for a bit? Another loaded question, and one he doesn’t want to answer.)

“Thank you,” Jamie whispers, and Mary McNab removes her coat.

____

Long before daybreak, Jamie wakes. He gathers his draft, made complete by that final failing chapter, into a single stack. He retrieves a box from his suitcase, which is swathed in his old holiday sweater, and it speaks to him. A quiet loudness, like the murmur of the Grampians. You mean your lager-stained pullover? With the Santa looks that looks like he’s got vomit in his beard?

Inside the box is a gift—a vase, azure porcelain—though Jamie has no plans to send it across the Atlantic, to the Boston apartment where his ex-wife kisses another man. No. This vase will stay with Jamie, forever hidden on the high shelf of a closet, or exiled to the back corner of a desk drawer. Like his grief, it is something that he owns—this small cut from a cloth of unraveled dreams—to be kept and locked safely away. There, there, always there. All fancy people have vases.

Jamie wraps the box with his manuscript. One by one, he folds the pages over and under, seals the edges with tape to form an inch-thick layer. So much history around this small, delicate thing—their story, with the ending Jamie cannot use and which cannot be the truth. At last, he cuts the string of wool, which still drips from his sweater after all these years, and it rasps, Do we have time? Of course we do.

Finally, Jamie weeps—a mournful sound that joins the chorus of this great, big mountain—and ties a frayed, red bow.

____

(Jamie does not realize that Mary watches him from the bed. “Tell me about her,” she wants to say—for once a statement and not a question—but she does not. Instead, she calls to Jamie, presses her goosefleshed nakedness to his. And as they move together, slow but unfeeling, she pretends she is a vessel. Closes her eyes. Makes room for the ghost. I’m Claire Beauchamp. Just plain Claire Beauchamp.)

____

Here, the idea of a writer’s retreat, the introduction, and the parentheticals (although those are also inspired by one of my favorite authors Kate Atkinson) are my lame attempts at trying to be Lauren Groff. Actually, the next handful of chapters are the result of my obsession with her novel Fates and Furies—which you should absolutely go read, right now.

One of my favorite parts about writing a modern AU is finding ways to fit in canon characters or references. I started this chapter having no idea who Jamie’s critique partner was, but it very quickly came together once there was a remote cabin, Jamie inside it, and a woman coming to visit him. I hope the reveal is at least somewhat...fun? The vase is also obviously a nod to Outlander, and, well, I’m assuming y’all caught on to Jamie’s character names (a bit on the nose, lmao).

I’m not crazy about this introduction (it’s...a bit much...but it’s meant to tie into the introduction of Chapter 1), but the final paragraph from Mary’s POV is actually one of my favorite paragraphs in the whole fic.

I also think I wrote this during a snowstorm, wheeeee!

[justthehiddleswrites]

Destiny Has Other Plans | Loki x OFC (Alexis Randall) | Chapter 4

Pairing: Loki x OFC

MASTERLIST IS HERE

Summary: When Loki goes to ask his father for permission to marry, he is shocked to discover his destiny has already been made for him.  He is already betrothed to Sjofn, the daughter of the King of Vanaheim.  An arranged marriage to bring the two kingdoms closer together and strengthen the bond.  Never mind that Sjofn and Loki can’t stand each other.  

After The Battle of New York, Loki is sent to live at Avengers Tower as punishment for his misdeeds.  But it doesn’t mean he has to like it.   A year later, he has adjusted to life on Midgard but has avoided any romantic or emotional entanglements, still bitter over his lost love.  Dr. Alexis Randall is skilled at helping others fix their relationships as a couple therapist, but can’t help her own love life.  A chance encounter with Loki in a dive bar has life altering consequences for both of them.  Now, Alexis and Loki must figure out a way to co-habit without killing each other in the process, plus navigating impending parenthood and other roadblocks along the way.

This Chapter:   Tony’s attempt at matchmaking goes awry. Alexis meets the man that goes bump in the vents and makes some poor decisions.

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Angst,  Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of law enforcement, Oral Sex, Cursing, Vaginal Sex

Taglists are Open, please let me know if you wish to be added.

-

Alexis tugged at her dress. Even though she was still early in the pregnancy, her clothes were already fitting differently. She could see the beginnings of a bump in the mirror. Loki’s clothes fit him like a glove. Like a perfectly tailored, bespoke “look at me I am so fucking handsome” glove, Alexis groused to herself, tugging again at the neckline.

“Do you always fidget so much?” Loki questioned as they walked towards the entrance of the restaurant Tony made reservations at for them.

“No. None of my clothes aren’t fitting right. My bump is starting to show.”

“Have JARVIS order you some new ones.” Loki commented back. He held the door open for her. He didn’t think the dress was fitting Alexis poorly. Quite the contrary, as the low neckline highlighted her breasts in a manner Loki found rather stimulating. He particularly enjoyed the tiny stomach bump developing on her.

“Two, under the name Stark.” Loki wrapped his arm around Alexis’s waist as the bartender smiled at them from across the entrance. His grip tightened as a spark of jealousy hit him.

The maitre’d nodded and led them to a cozy table off to the side, and thankfully for Loki, out of the eyeline of the bar.

The server came by and asked for drink orders.

“Scotch neat.”

Alexis’s face dropped. “Just water, please.” A glass of wine sounded tempting right now.

The server nodded and moved away, but Loki grabbed his arm. “On second thought, water and Diet Coke for me.”

The server changed the order and stepped away. Alexis squirmed in her seat. “You didn’t need to do that on my account. I’m an adult and so are you. You can drink if you want.”

The server returned with the drinks and left to give them more time with the menus. Loki pushed the Diet Coke in front of Alexis. “A peace offering. If you can try, so can I.”

Alexis took a long draw of the soda and hummed. “Thank you, Loki.”

“My pleasure.” The server returned, ready to take their order.

“What would you recommend?” she asked.

“The tuna tartare is popular.” The server gestured to the menu. Loki coughed and raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t like anything raw.” Alexis lied. Sushi was one of her favorites. “Anything else?”

She settled on a seasonal risotto while Loki ordered a steak, medium rare. Once the server left, the two of them carried on a polite conversation until their bread service and entrees arrived. Alexis noticed as she ate, a blonde woman sneaking glances at their table.

“Loki, do you know her?”

He turned around to glance and shrugged his shoulders. “She looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t recall. I’ve met many people in my last year here.”

“LOKI!” The woman was now at their table. Alexis wasn’t entirely sure what was preventing the woman’s boobs from slipping out of her dress.

Loki narrowed his eyes. “Hello, um…”

“Ashlyn! You silly.” She slapped Loki’s shoulder. “You would think a god would have a better memory?”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Alexis leaned forward on her hands, mocking Ashlyn.

Ashlyn turned to Loki, oblivious to Alexis, although Loki glared at her across the table. “I am so sorry, Ashlyn. I shall endeavor to do better.” He flashed her a smile.

“I can’t believe you never called me after our last date, and now I find you here out with another woman!”

“Oh, we aren’t dating!” Loki and Alexis responded simultaneously.

“She’s a friend.” Loki added.

“From work.” Alexis chimed in.

“Well then,” Ashlyn reached across and grabbed a spare cocktail napkin, she scribbled on it, leaning over the table to ensure Loki receive an eyeful of her ample cleavage. “Call me sometime.” Ashlyn tucked the napkin into Loki’s shirt pocket before walking off.

Alexis’s gaze followed Ashlyn until the blonde sat back down at her table.

“I’m surprised you didn’t drag her into the bathroom right in front of me.” Alexis sniped.

Loki scowled at her. “I am not that crass. And if I recall, you pulled me into that bathroom.”

Alexis sneered as she pushed her half eaten risotto away, no longer hungry. Loki frowned. “You need to eat.”

“My stomach doesn’t feel so good. I’m not feeling well.” Sure as shit, she wasn’t feeling well. She realized they weren’t beholden’d to each other and hell she even gave him permission to date. But Alexis never imagined it would sting this much.

“Then we should return home at once.” Loki signaled for the check, oblivious to the true reasons for Alexis’s upset stomach.

Tony was waiting for them in the common room, clearly wanting all the juicy gossip. Loki wrapped his arm around Alexis as they walked through.

“Look at the two of you!” Tony called out, scaring the shit out of Alexis.

“Does everyone around here just lurk in corners?” She clasped her hand on her chest.

“Not now, Stark. Alexis isn’t feeling well.” Loki snapped, not stopping.

Tony shuffled to follow them, cutting them off at the hallway entrance. “Just answer one question, was there a love connection?”

“Oh, there definitely was.” Alexis grumbled. Tony did a little fist pump. “Loki snagged a date with Ashlyn, the real life blow-up doll.”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki’s head at her and he removed his arm.

“Come on! She practically shoved her tits in your face, Loki. With me sitting there.”

“I’m going to bed.” Tony muttered and hightailed it out of the line of fire.

“You said you didn’t care.” Loki countered.

“And I don’t!” Alexis moaned, lying to herself and to Loki. She was getting a headache. “I don’t.” She took a deep breath. “I just don’t need it happening right in front of me, okay?”

Loki shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Apologies. I hadn’t considered…”

“Spare the apologies, Loki.” She moved away from him. “I’m going to bed.” She walked away at a brisk pace.

When Loki got there, he peeked into her room, but she was already under the covers, eyes closed.

-

Loki avoided Alexis for the next week. They exchanged little more than pleasantries in the morning and evening. Alexis spent more of her evenings in her office on the 5th floor rather in the apartment with Loki. She didn’t go anywhere. Loki insisted it wasn’t safe, now that she was showing. The walls were closing in and Alexis was going stir crazy.

One evening, Alexis was lying on the couch watching TV when Loki came out of his room dressed in a black suit.

“Going on your date?” Her tone sharp and words pointed. “Give Blow Up Barbie my best.”

“You said you didn’t want to know. But yes, I am meeting Ashlynn tonight.” He tightened his tie. He didn’t really want to go, but Ashlynn didn’t stop calling until he gave a firm date.

“I don’t. Just curious whether to make an entire pot of coffee in the morning or not? Should I expect you home tonight?”

“I wouldn’t bother.” Loki adjusted his cufflinks. “Enjoy your show.”

“Use protection!” She yelled after him.

Loki smiled as he shut the door behind him. Alexis tried to focus on her show, but couldn’t. She couldn’t pinpoint why this date bothered her so much. Alexis harbored no romantic feelings for Loki. She barely got through a conversation without insulting him.

“Fuck it.” She grabbed her phone. “And fuck him.”

“Hannah? Yeah. Can you come pick me up at Avengers Tower?”

“Warden letting you out on good behavior?” Hannah giggled. She enjoyed joking about Alexis being held captive.

“More like a prison break.”

“Did you want to grab dinner or something?”

“How about dancing? Somewhere loud and slightly crazy.” Alexis stood and went to her closet, selecting a skintight electric blue dress. It would highlight her newfound curves.

“Are you sure? What about Loki?” Hannah questioned.

“When the cat’s away… He is out. On a date. Get me back here before morning and he will never know.”

“Devious. I’m in.”

“Twenty minutes, Hannah. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

She dressed and fixed her hair before slipping on a pair of high heels. A quick glance down the hallway and Alexis slinked towards the elevator.

“Loki takes the service elevator when he skulks out at night.” Clint stepped out of the shadows. “I see he didn’t share his trade secrets with you.”

Alexis jumped a bit but regained her composure. “Jesus Christ. Between you and Tony… I’m not skulking. Just meeting a friend.”

“Fancy dress for a friend.”

“Nosy question for a man who crawls through the vents.” Alexis narrowed her eyes at Clint.

“Just an observation. Have a good evening.” Clint nodded and disappeared into the shadows of the night.

Hannah was waiting outside when she made her way outside.

“I worried you got caught.”

“Just a bird in the vents distracting me. Have faith in me. Now… let’s party.”

Hannah hooked her arm with Alexis and they took off down the sidewalk.

-

Loki’s mind wandered as Ashlynn droned on about her number of Instagram followers. Social media did not interest Loki. Not even a bit. He remembered why he “forgot” to call Ashlyn back the first time. While she may be nice to look at, it was all style and no substance. Blow Up Barbie was an apt name, Loki mused. He chuckled at Alexis’s joke as he replayed it in his mind.

“What so funny, Loki?” Ashlyn questioned as they walked out of the restaurant.

“What?” He turned to her in shock. “Oh, just something someone told me earlier.” He brushed it off.

“A joke?” Ashlyn perked up. She hopped and her boobs bounced in a way boobs shouldn’t. Loki had said little that night. “Tell me.”

“You won’t enjoy it.” Loki deflected. “It is rather offensive.” He smiled again, thinking about many of Alexis’s off-color jokes. He often found it hard to not laugh.

“Fine.” Ashlyn pouted. “Let’s go back to my place.” She tugged him in the opposite direction of the Tower.

Loki sighed. “I think I should head home.” He feigned a yawn. “I am tired and I have an early meeting tomorrow.”

Ashlyn frowned at him. “On a Sunday?”

Loki coughed. “An Avenger never has a day off.” He was failing at ending this date. Loki wondered if Alexis would still be up.

“Really, because you always said—” Ashlyn’s comment interrupted by Loki’s cell phone.

He frowned when he saw Alexis’s number on the screen. He answered the call.

“I told you not to wait—” He snapped into the phone, even though moments ago he was ready to call it a night.

“It’s Alexis’s friend, Hannah. You don’t know me, but—”

“What happened? Where are you? Where’s Alexis?” Loki snapped. Ashlyn leaned in to listen to the conversation. Loki turned his back to her.

“We’re at the police station. Can you come bail her out?”

Loki paled. “Give me the address.”

[renee-writer]

Baby Girl Chapter Three

AO3

She is exiting her car. He watches from the shadows. She walks up towards her porch, frowning because the light is off. Did she turn it off? The bulb blow?  It is her last thought without terror.

 

“Son of a bitch!” Fitz calls out, “We have another. Five kilometers away from the last.”

 

“He is escalating. The time between kills is shorter.” Gray replies.

 

“Aye.” He wasn’t at home but they found enough to convict him several times over, including trophies. Gel paces in front of his house. “Okay, Fraser, you and Gray head to this new scene. We will head back to local police headquarters.  Reach out to Beauchamp. Have her pull up any abandoned buildings in this area. He is hiding somewhere.”

 

They all nod.

 

“Baby girl, we need all abandoned buildings in a tent kilometer block of my location. He struck again.”

 

She utters a very bad word. “On it handsome. Baby girl out.” She works quickly. This bad guy scares her. Safe in her cocoon of computers, other women aren’t . They have to find this creep

 

“She didn’t  call me,” the man gets out through his sobs, “ with all this going on,” another gasping sob, “I asked her too when she got home. I offered to drive her but…”

 

She left her office job at six. By seven, her co-worker hadn’t  heard from her and came by. He discovered her.

Gray sits and talks with him while Fraser exams the body. Like the others, she is posed in the fetal position. She is covered by a blanket. He looks about. The victim, Leticia Brown, was a factious housekeeper. The blanket doesn’t  match anything else in it.

 

“He brought it with him.” He mutters. He rings Beaucoup again.

 

“What can I help you with?”

 

“The victim was covered with a blanket, one I believe he brought with him. Check and see if blankets were left at the others.”

 

“On it. A list of all abandoned buildings has been sent to each of you crime fighters.”

 

“Thank you baby girl.”

 

“You are welcome handsome.”

 

“Franklin Randall, there is no doubt he is the unsub. The only question is where is he.” Gel addresses the gathered cops. Mary passed out pictures of him, pulled from a search online. “He is a professor, was last teaching at Oxford but that was two years ago. Leaving off savings since then. He isn’t at home.”

 

“We don’t  believe he will return there. He is to smart. We suggest releasing his picture to the press. This may pressure him to make a mistake. This will help us catch him.” Fitz adds.

 

“What if it pressures him to take another woman sooner?” one of the officers asks.

 

“That is a possibility . But with his face out there, women will know who to guard against.” Gel answers.

 

“Hello handsome. What cam I do you for?”

 

“Beauchamp, this is Agent Fitzgibbons, will you look up any rapes with similar MO’s around Oxford in the last five years?”

 

She blushes and says, “Yes sir. Right away sir.”

Murtagh rings off and chuckles.