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fleckcmscott · 5 years

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Watch What Happens - Chapter 6

Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.

Chapter warning: None

Words: 3,241

Y/N tried to avoid looking at her watch as she sat across from Matt, on the other side of his desk, taking dictation in shorthand. The last time she checked, probably five minutes ago, it was only 11:12 AM. Even as she wrote, catching every detail, her mind was willing the clock to go faster. She'd be meeting Arthur in under two hours. Her lips curved upwards at the thought of him.

Shortly after leaving him at the Newkirk station in Otisburg, after they'd gotten donuts, she'd realized the mistake she'd made in not getting his number. While it was true she'd continue to work in his area, she knew the chance she'd run into him a third time had been slim. Sure, he'd told her he lived on Anderson, wherever the hell that was, but that was it. She supposed she could have looked for his name on the buzzers of all the buildings on that street, if she was inclined to be a creep about it.

While she’d dated casually, it had been a long time since she'd experienced any sort of infatuation. She simply hadn't had time for it. In the seven or so years before she'd come to Gotham, she'd done legal work part-time and shared a house with her father, who'd been wasting away with dementia.

That had been the hardest period of her life, more difficult than her marriage amicably falling apart years prior. Her sister hadn’t been able to help much - she had a family of her own. And her mother had passed away shortly after her father’s diagnosis. It had been all on Y/N’s shoulders.

When she hadn't been at work, she'd been stuck in the daily grind of keeping her father calm, clean, and fed. It was never easy. The lack of time for herself had taken a toll on her. There were days when all she'd wanted was to be alone, but what she'd be left with was the same chores as always, and guilt for wishing it would end. When he died, she sold or donated most of her stuff and left.

Since moving, she appreciated not having anyone depend on her. Not having to answer to someone. Being on her own. Arthur had thrown a wrench into that. The feelings he’d stirred in her were unexpected. And lovely. But asking for his number then would have been leading them both on. She hadn't decided if she wanted him to pursue her - yet.

But if fate was going to throw an awkwardly charming, handsome guy at her three times, she wasn't going to argue.

The reason she'd been on that night's late train was the broken roller feed of the office photocopier. Multiple copies of motions that were over fifty pages long had to be made manually. She'd removed the high-heels from her aching feet and copied each page one by one. It had kept her aggravatingly late.

The laughter had gotten her attention, first. She'd assumed someone was having too good of a time. But when she'd seen him there, the clown with his hand over his mouth, it became obvious he was in pain. Once she saw the assholes in suits advancing on him, not helping hadn't been an option.

She'd been relieved to see Arthur again, but the circumstances made it bittersweet. The situation, the laminated card, his condition. It had clicked for her why he was shy and reserved. As soon as he'd taken off that damned wig, she'd known she would give him her business card.

"Y/N?" Matt's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Are you with me?"

She blinked. "Yeah, sorry.” Her knuckles popped as she stretched her fingers. “This letter is going on a little too long. My hand's starting to cramp.”

He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms. "Yeah, you're right. We'll come back to it later." Spinning around, he grabbed the oversize mug of coffee sitting on the bookshelf behind him. "You look at that Wayne file yet? Sorry we didn't get to it earlier in the week."

"I've actually been trying to figure out how to talk with you about it," she said, furrowing her brow.

"Well, that's an odd thing to say."

She tapped her pen against her legal pad. "I've looked at the file extensively. Mostly, it's motions back and forth for continuances, eminent domain filings, petty bickering...” Her lips twisted in a grimace. “But there wasn't evidence of anything being claimed by either party."

"Evidence?" he asked. "The buildings are deathtraps."

"Only if you read the Wayne Foundation's motions,” she countered. "I went to one of them on Saturday, and-"

Matt put his arms on his desk and leaned forward. "You what?"

Rolling her eyes, she waved his concern off. "No one saw me. Just an old lady getting her paper. It doesn't matter." She watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not an architect or engineer, but those buildings aren't in the shape the foundation is claiming.

"They’ve also said the buildings are almost empty, but a lot of people still live in the one I visited." She wiggled her foot under the desk before continuing. Matt wouldn’t have a heart attack, right? "They're getting letters telling them they have to leave within ninety days or forfeit their belongings."

He tapped his hand on the desk, looking vacantly at the surface. "Do you have any of these letters?"

Hurriedly, she went to her desk to grab the file. "The woman who saw me gave me this,” she said over her shoulder. “Don't worry. She doesn't know where I work." She dug out the envelope and came back, handing it over.

Glancing at her, he took out the letter. His face remained calm as he read it. "It's not from any Wayne organization," he said. "They all have 'Wayne' in the name. I've never heard of Renew Corp."

"I know, but wouldn't this be a weird coincidence?" she asked.

After a minute or so, he stuffed the document back in the envelope. "You don't know what Renew Corp. is doing. You have one letter from one person."

Slight exasperation entered her voice. "And the fact the buildings aren't as described? I've been going to City Hall on my lunch breaks the last two days to look up code violations. Only one address had them, and that was seven years ago."

Matt nodded, wringing his hands lightly. His voice was low when he eventually spoke. "I need you to stop this inquiry."

She was stunned. "I beg your pardon? Have we met?"

"I'm serious, Y/N." He tossed the envelope in the garbage can under his desk, then looked at her. Despite what he was saying, his eyes were friendly. "We have a duty to our client. That's the Wayne Foundation, not these tenants. We can't go sniffing around on their behalf."

Heat filled her as she clenched her jaw. Disappointing didn't begin to cover how this conversation was turning out. "That wasn't what I was doing," she said, measuring her words. "I was trying to back up the foundation's claims. What do you want me to do? Provide photos of peeling paint and linoleum?"

He gestured dismissively. "You don't need to worry about that. The foundation's big enough. It'll get the land. The whole thing just needs to work its way through the courts."

Y/N flinched. "Why did you put me on this case? To do more paperwork? Why did you want me to go through it?"

"For context. You're good at your job. And, yes, it's paperwork, but it's important." He huffed. "The Wayne Foundation wants to open a medical clinic in that area. It needs to go smoothly. With all the cuts going on right now, unemployment... Think of the jobs it'll provide. The services it'll offer."

She shook her head, not answering. This was beginning to feel like the old boys network in her dinky little hometown.

After some time, Matt stood. "Let's take a break."

Taking the hint, Y/N left his office, closing the door behind her. This was the first time she'd been told to let an investigation go. She knew the Wayne Foundation was their biggest client. But it frustrated her that her firm was willing to look past what she'd found. She had enough experience in the field to witness questionable legal actions. None of them had threatened hundreds of people before.

"Hey," Patricia said from behind her desk, drawing Y/N's attention. "I heard what he said. Don't listen to him. Keep doing what you're doing.”

Y/N arched a brow at her. "I wasn't planning to stop."

“Good. He doesn't have to know." Patricia chuckled. "Well, until he does."

“I’ll remember your wise words when I’m in the unemployment line,” Y/N teased.

Patricia snorted, then folded her arms over her chest. "Now, tell me more about this date you're going on."

"I don't know if it's a date. I think it's a date." Laughing, Y/N shrugged. "I wouldn't mind it being a date." She considered her next words carefully, wanting to protect Arthur's privacy. "Like I said yesterday, I helped an acquaintance on the subway with his bags.” Y/N raised a finger when she saw Patricia’s mouth open. “And yes, before you ask, he’s good-looking. But too skinny for you, I think.” She sat on the corner of Patricia’s desk. “Anyhow, he invited me to pie to thank me. Should I bring you back a slice?"

"Don't worry about me. Just don't forget to come back." Patricia gave her a wink. “Promise?"

Y/N nodded back sharply. "Promise."

~~~~~

Before going outside, Y/N observed Arthur through the lobby windows. He was pacing between the building and the lamp post on the other side of the sidewalk. The expression on his face alternated between excitement and worry. And he was smoking like a man on his way to the gallows. It was sweet, but she wanted he'd be able to relax around her.

Letting her eyes rove over him, she saw he was wearing another loose sweater, gray this time, usual collared shirt peeking out at the top. That tan jacket. Admittedly, she was hoping he'd wear something that accentuated his narrow waist, the way his vest had on the subway. She knew she shouldn't have noticed it, given what had happened. But as they'd strolled down the street together, she hadn’t been able to help herself.

Arthur straightened and flicked away his cigarette when she stepped out, his face lighting up. "Hey." His gaze held hers. "How are you?"

"This morning was trying, but," she grinned, "the day’s much better now." The smile he wore in response was the widest she'd seen on him so far. Still bashful, but enough for her to notice his dimples and one crooked tooth. Get a grip, Y/N. She swallowed hard and pointed him to where they were headed. "There's a diner around the next corner. I've never had their pie, but I'm sure it's good."

They arrived within minutes. Arthur picked a booth for two in the corner next to a window. After removing his jacket and tossing it on the seat, he reached out to help Y/N out of her coat. And she let him.

A waitress came over immediately. "What'll you two be having?"

"Blueberry pie, please," Y/N said.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Just coffee."

When the server was out of sight, Y/N leaned forward. "How are you inviting me for pie and not ordering any?" She swatted his forearm playfully.

He moved his hands to his lap. "Sorry. I'm not usually hungry."

"You'll just have to try mine," she said. The left corner of his mouth lifted at that and he gave a slight nod.

She studied him, the small scar above his upper lip, the laugh lines on his face, the way the sunlight brought out the various tones of his chestnut locks. It was hard not to notice how stiffly he was sitting. He wanted to be there - she could see that in the way his green eyes admired her. But his body still radiated apprehension. How on earth could she ease his mind? Maybe being straightforward would be best. "Don't be anxious around me, Arthur. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be."

His shoulders loosened a little. "I don't mean to-" He stopped abruptly when the coffee and slice of pie were delivered. Grabbing the sugar dispenser, he put three servings into his mug, concentrating on his stirring. "I'm glad you came."

It was a small sentence, but Y/N sensed the effort if had taken for him to speak it. How much work had it taken for him to ask her out yesterday? She cut a piece of her pie. "So, I know you like sweets. You're a stand-up. And you work as a clown, I guess?" After tasting it, she offered the fork to Arthur.

There was only a moment’s hesitation before he smirked and took it from her. She wondered if his fingers skimming against hers were intentional. "That's my job. I'm a party clown. But I'm thinking of focusing on my comedy more." He took a bite. "This is good."

"It’s my favorite," she said. "You should tell me a joke. I’d love to hear one."

"All right." His forehead creased in concentration. "Um. Why did the old man like having insomnia?"

Y/N chewed thoughtfully, wondering where this was going. "Hm. I don't know. Why?"

"Because he didn't have to sleep with his wife." Arthur's eyes flicked to hers, his eyebrows raised slightly.

A short, sharp laugh escaped her. The joke hadn't disappointed. And his sudden boldness surprised her. She wanted to see more of it. "That was a good one, Mr. Fleck."

His face softened at that. After a moment, he asked, "What's your job?"

"I'm a paralegal." When she tried to offer the fork to him again, he politely declined.

"What's that?" he asked.

Good. If he didn't know what her job was, he'd probably not been in any legal trouble. "I work at a law firm. Prepare for hearings and trials. Do lots of paperwork. I investigate, too, though I think it annoys my boss." A small snort escaped her. "I go to meetings. It's all very mundane."

Arthur placed another cigarette between his lips. "I don't think I could ever do a desk job."

"It's not for everyone," she said, waving his comment off. "And I work too much. But I love it." She grabbed a napkin from the nearby dispenser and wiped her mouth. "Do you have any hobbies? Besides comedy, I mean."

After lighting up and taking a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck. "When I'm not working, I mostly take care of - of my mother,” he said gently.

A tightness entered her chest. "I'm sorry she’s not well."

"She's been sick a long time." He rested his face on his hand. "Her disability isn't enough to cover the rent and everything, so I live with her." His fingers tapped his cheek. "It's easier that way. And with my condition..."

Unsure how to continue, or even if she should, Y/N folded her hands together on the table. "You don't owe me an explanation. I didn't mean to pry."

"No, I don’t mind." He shook his head. "It’s just- I don't talk to people a lot. Outside of work."

She tapped her foot against his under the table. "You're fine," she said. He huffed and ran a hand over his hair, toothy grin spreading across his face. Her heart quickened at that. She lowered her voice, leaning closer. "May I ask you about what was on your card? Your condition?"

“What about it?” he asked softly.

“How long have you had it?”

Arthur straightened, taking a drag off his cigarette. The smoke curled around his face as he frowned at the table. “As long as I can remember.”

She bit her lip. “Is there anyway to help?”

“Changing positions. Breathing exercises. Distraction. They don’t always.” Closing his eyes, he let out a sad chuckle. “It happens at the worst times.”

“Like on the train?”

He pushed his mug away as he signed. “Like on the train.”

Y/N felt like an ass, a well-meaning jerk. She’d been too flippant the other night when she’d told him, simply, that his laughter was “fine.” Sitting here with him, it was obvious his condition caused him distress. And now her genuine attempt at getting to know him had made him uncomfortable. The light mood when he’d picked her up had been replaced with unease. She reached out to touch the back of his left hand as it rested on the table.

His eyes shot to hers; she could hear his sharp intake of breath.

“It’s all right,” she intoned. Smiling, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It doesn’t bother me.”

A sad, hiccuped laugh left his throat. His thumb caressed the web between her thumb and forefinger. “Sometimes I think I imagined you. That you can’t be real.”

Y/N snickered at that. “Haven’t my questions annoyed you enough to know I’m here?”

He stamped out his cigarette in the table’s built-in ashtray, then got up. “That isn’t the word I’d use.”

After she stood, he helped her with her coat. “What word would you use?” she asked.

The sidelong glance he gave her made her blush profusely.

“Do you have to go back to work already?” The disappointment on his face was plain to see. He pulled out his wallet and placed a few dollar bills on the table.

“No, I have some extra time. Help me walk off the pie,” she said.

He grinned, clearly happy to oblige.

~~~~~

When Y/N returned to work, she leaned back on the lobby door and giggled. Dammit. She needed to pull herself together before going back to her office. Taking the stairs to the third floor would be best.

She’d enjoyed the date (it had definitely been a date) with Arthur even more than expected. After she’d expressly told him his condition wasn’t a black mark, he’d opened up. She liked hearing him speak, wondering what else was hiding under that timidity of his. He’d even tried to crack a couple more jokes. They’d been corny, not particularly funny, and she’d groaned instead of laughed. He’d looked confused at first, but he seemed to understand she was delighted.

He’d pointed out a few of his favorite spots in the district, places she wouldn’t have ever found on her own. A comedy club here, a consignment shop there. Music had come up. Surprisingly, he’d said outright that he was a good dancer. Dancing was a mystery to her. She couldn’t even clap in time. But it helped explained the grace he sometimes displayed.

At the end, when he’d accompanied her back to her firm’s building, he’d looked at her like he wanted to kiss her. He’d either been too shy or respectful to do it, and simply nodded his goodbye. Either way, that was what sealed it for her. She didn’t repeat the mistake of letting him go without getting his address and phone number.

It had been a long time since she wanted to really know someone, to lighten their day and have their presence brighten hers. It felt a little alarming - but mostly wonderful.

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @clowndaddyfleck @stephieraptorr

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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fistsoflightning · 4 years

Text

9: confidence boost

prompt: lush || masterpost || other fills || ao3 mirror

word count: 2256

It’s all fun and games until they all get invited to an Ishgardian ball. (Or; Lumelle has never liked anything to do with the high society of her hometown. A’dewah tries to help his friend out.)

Contains canon-divergence bits and bobs, notably pertaining to the Vault, because why not?

“Mel,” Auphine calls from the doorway, fiddling with her boots, maybe—A’dewah can’t quite see her fully from where he stands in front of Lumelle’s (extremely dusty, clearly unused) vanity, more focused on clearing up the mirror than anything. “What are you going to do about your face?”

“Do not repeat this back to Mama, but I,” Lumelle huffs, and if she weren’t standing incredibly still so that Valdis and Lunya can finish taking adjustment measurements for her dress A’dewah thinks her arms would be crossed firmly across her chest. “have no swiving clue what you mean by ‘what am I going to do about my face’, Auphie.”

Duscha raises an amused eyebrow over the brim of his book while Elwin giggles into his palm. No one really expected her to know—at least, among that of the Scions and her usual friends—but Auphine makes an exaggerated sighing motion with her shoulders as she stands straight.

“You know Mama’s going to want you ‘dolled up’, or what have you,” she explains. “And the other nobles—”

“If they give a damn, they can talk to the business end of Fragarach,” Lumelle grumbles as Valdis softly pushes her arms back down. Auphine sighs louder, and A’dewah didn’t think the little conjurer had that large of lungs on her; clearly he’s mistaken, by how her exhale carries.

“Do not tell me I did not warn you!” Auphine waves to Elwin as she leaves the room, the heels of her boots clicking against the wooden floor of the manor. Lumelle groans loud enough to wake Tehra’ir up from his slump against Zaya’s shoulder momentarily, eventually resting his forehead carefully back onto their shoulder, making sure not to press his eyes into the white of their dress shirt.

For his own merit, he does his best to ignore it while he carefully swipes the tube of lipstick across his lips, pausing when Syhrwyda leans over to pick up her hairpin from the vanity. She catches his gloss, too, when it falls on its side and starts to roll away; he could probably hug her for that. Damned glass vials and all.

“Mel,” Elwin says, his swinging feet tapping against the settee. “I think Auphie might be right.”

“...I know, but I—it’s not like I know how to use any of—of that stuff Mama dumped onto me when I came back. Most of it’s probably dried up, by now.”

A’dewah, for the curious bit of him that is right next to all the old cosmetics, opens up a pot of what likely used to be a scented lotion that smelled strongly of sandalwood.

What he finds is nearly rock hard. Well then.

“Dress’s done,” Valdis says quietly, Lunya snipping the last bit of thread hanging from Lumelle’s sleeve. The high house dress… looks incredibly uncomfortable for her, he thinks, compared to the normal surcoats and cuirasses she’d normally prefer.

“You all should get going,” Lumelle says, looking up at the chronometer. Nearly the seventh bell. “I… guess I’ll be here for a while yet.”

“Here,” he says, scooting over on the bench to leave enough space for Lumelle to sit. He waves the closed tube of lipstick in the air when Zaya tilts their head in confusion. “I can stay behind and help her.”

Lumelle, for her merit, gives him a wary glance that might as well be screeching this better not end with me in a face of powders, but she trudges her way over anyhow as everybody else leaves Lumelle’s room. Zaya gives him a small wink before they turn the corner, pointing to the two corsages sitting at the end of Lumelle’s old bed.

“Why do you know so much about cosmetics, anyhow?” She sits with all the grace of a lion stumbling through a minefield, really, shaking the bench as she falls back onto it.

“I have three sisters,” he murmurs as he fumbles with the containers and pots he’s laid out before him, opening to check the colors and closing when he looks back over to Lumelle’s skin. He should have asked someone else—surely Lumelle’s mother, but Lumelle herself would not appreciate her mother fussing about. Perhaps someone from House Fortemps would have known of some cosmetics common to Ishgard, and a merchant. Aymeric, maybe; he looks like he would know his way around a few brushes. If he’d the willpower, Hanami would have worked, too, having lived in Ishgard long enough to count as one of them... even if he’d probably get his head taken off in the process. “My youngest brother likes to, er, contour, too. Hard to avoid cosmetic talks when most of your siblings, who’ve been very much restrained in their pastimes since forever, enjoy it? And…”

He taps the top of his cosmetics box; small enough to fit into the bottom of his satchel, beneath all the books and draughts he lugs around when he’s traveling by foot, all the pots and brushes neatly tucked away. He’d needed to buy newer paints and cremes when he’d gotten back from the First—a pain, seeing as he’d been without for long enough, but if the urge struck and he didn’t have his box refilled he’d probably see his anxiety spike—but none of them would match Lumelle’s darker skin either way.

“I, uhm, might have a bit of fun with this, from time to time?” The urge to wring his hands together is incredibly strong, but he fiddles with the latch on his cosmetics box. He hadn’t even really shown Haruki, now that he thinks about it—more a private pleasure than anything, now out to his friends.

Character development, he thinks wryly. You will be fine.

Maybe he should have waited to put on the lip paint, he thinks as he helps wrangle the rest of Lumelle’s hair into a nice crown braid. All straightened out, strange compared to the very wavy-haired Lumelle he’d passed by not a few mornings ago, and the coarse texture of her hair rubs oddly against the pads of his fingers.

Now…

“Could you turn to face me?” He carefully opens his cosmetics box to pull out a few small brushes—making sure to set them apart from the brush he’d already used, a new pot of cool red paint, and a small jar of dark powder. “Promise I won’t, er, go overboard.”

“I trust you,” she says, even though it doesn’t look like she believes it, and she closes her eyes.

The quiet click and clatter of closing and opening containers fills the comfortable quiet as A’dewah brushes powders and paints onto Lumelle’s face. He has to remind her with a quiet tap on her knuckles not to scrunch her face, sometimes, but he can’t quite blame her when he’s trying not to sneeze the whole time from the dust that flutters about in motes, the sunset fading through the window making them gleam.

“You’ll keep these after I’m done,” he says while he finishes up the edges of Lumelle’s lip paint, the bright red perhaps a tad too bright for how much he’s put on; maybe he can wipe a bit of it off? “Sanitary things, is all. I—I don’t expect you to keep using them!”

Lumelle doesn’t say anything, not even a quiet protest, instead turning her head to look at herself in the mirror.

“This is weird,” she finally decides, after a few moments of staring intensely at the mirror. “Not used to my lips being… red.”

“Is it bad?”

He pulls out another tube of gloss—thank the Matron he’d decided to get a spare tube from that merchant in Ul’dah—and Lumelle sighs. “Not as bad as I thought it might, no. It’s just…”

Her brow furrows again.

“Here,” he mumbles, a bit awkwardly. “Put that on, and I’ll grab your earring.”

It takes a bit of fishing around in the drawers, unorganized as they are; he sneezes, once, when he opens it too fast and the dust goes flying into the air, but eventually he finds the slightly tarnished House Fortemps earring among the wreck that is Lumelle’s vanity. It gleams, still, in the fading sunlight, the red unicorn standing out among the dark grey metal around it.

“Done,” Lumelle says. He turns, and it’s… not as neat as he’d hoped, but it’s miles better than anything Vahno could have done, at any rate, so he presses the earring into her upturned palm among the light scars and smiles.

“There we go,” he murmurs, gently swiping his thumb to clean off some of the out-of-place gloss. “Grab the corsages for me, and I think we’re done.”

Lumelle nearly tumbles off the seat when she leans back to grab the two corsages, barely catching herself as A’dewah cleans up what he can—part of him nearly sets to cleaning the rest of Lumelle’s vanity, messy as it is, but he manages to hold back. For now.

He pins the (rather extravagant) brightlily corsage into his own hair, the light blue kind of blending into his hair, and hands Lumelle the white one to place in her own. Once she’s got it all pinned down—well, he has to brush a few leaves away from her face; Valdis must have taken the other smaller one he’d made—he stands, and waits for Lumelle to follow suit before he carefully grabs her wrist, ignoring the chill of the thin rose gold bracelets Auphine had shoved onto her sister’s wrist.

“Now,” he says, lightly pulling Lumelle closer to the mirror and stepping next to her. “Try striking a pose, or—or, uh, doing something that feels just a tad exaggerated.” He nearly leaves off there, looking a bit at himself and the light smudge in his lipstick before realizing what might happen. “WITHOUT getting your sword or shield. Please.”

“Killjoy,” Lumelle grumbles, but she takes one look at the two of them in the mirror, and her brow furrows deep enough that A’dewah feels a slight panic rising that the creme and powder on her forehead might crack. “Why with the poses, though. What’s the point?”

He has to think about, well, why he does the silly poses in the mirror before he can answer. “C-confidence? I—mm, actually,” he mumbles, spinning in a small circle and watching the skirt of his dress shimmer, fabric glimmering. Maybe he was right to let Zaya help Lunya design… this. “It’s… nice?”

“Nice?”

“Yes,” he says, a bit braver now. “Something that has nothing to do with being ‘heroic’ or ‘strong’, maybe. Just… plain and silly. Normal-ish.”

Lumelle hums just before she moves quick, pumping her fist into the air with her stance widened enough that A’dewah can see she’s still wearing her normal boots just beneath the hem of her skirt. She’s plastered a goofy sort of grin onto her face, brightened by the bright red lip paint and the light bouncing off the mirror onto her.

“There you go!” He sways about again, planting one hand on his hip and swinging his other arm out with the swish of his dress, nervously grinning as Lumelle’s eyebrows raise under her bangs. There’s a few moments of quiet, almost like time is frozen while they stand in their silly poses; a bit awkwardly, seeing how his tail has swung out from behind him and Lumelle had managed to throw her braid over her shoulder.

It hardly takes a moment for them to both be laughing, A’dewah nearly doubled over because oh gods did he just do that and Lumelle’s hyena-like laughter isn’t helping, either. Something so preciously silly about that exact moment sticks in the aether, singing of first snows and brilliant sunlight as A’dewah tries his best not to wipe at his eyes. He lets his hands adjust the hems of his sleeves instead while Lumelle falls back into her blustery nervousness, cautiously wiping tears from her eyes before it grows quiet again.

“I am… not sure I feel any better about this.” Lumelle’s hands bunch in her skirt, eyes looking downward. “Part of the reason I left, instead of taking another trial by combat, I suppose. Never liked it all.”

That’s… about what he suspected.

“That’s alright,” he soothes, smoothing out his own dress. He’s likely going to regret the heels in a few bells, but oh well. At least he won’t have to crane his head as much if someone does decide to talk to him. “Everyone will probably be, uh, a bit tipsy anyhow. They won’t notice you too much, either.” He looks to Lumelle through the mirror, watching as she tilts her head back up, the corners of his mouth tugging at a nervous smile. He’s… not sure if he’s assuring her more than himself, really. “If you get nervous, you can come find me, probably hiding behind a—a planter, or something. The lilies the Ishgardians like to use are, uh, big enough to hide the two of us. Failing that—”

“We find Haurchefant and let his enthusiasm distract everyone so we can escape. Got it,” Lumelle says assuredly, nodding to herself in the mirror and finally standing straight.

A’dewah bites the inside of his lip to keep from bursting into laughter. “Right.”

With one last little motion—one he’s seen her do to pump herself up before a mission—-Lumelle strides out to the doorway with a certain bounce in her step that she didn’t have earlier, stomping as she did to Lunya and Valdis’ measuring tapes, the corset on her dress keeping her from moving around as she wished. A’dewah smiles.

They would be alright.

#ffxiv #my writing #tales from the blue #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2020 #elie's ffxivwrite2020 #a'dewah tia #duscha vesnasch #elwin de lipine #lumelle de lipine #tehra'ir naphto #syhrwyda maetityrbwyn #valdis otoel #zaya qestir #auphine de lipine #fun times!#considering i know absolutely Nothing about makeup or beauty i sure went bonkers #im just jammin in my corner thinking about lush baff boms.....

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typinggently · 5 years

Text

I said I wanted to write a little Billy & Frank something inspired by this … so here… Army days nastiness…

warning: ..? some like. slight bdsm esque shit I guess. Some face slapping.

It starts off, as most things do, with an innocent little remark. Alcohol would be the classy excuse, but they manage just fine without it. At this point, more often than not, a particular mix of exhaustion and that specific kind of boredom that comes with being locked away from civilisation with the same group of men for weeks at a time is all it takes.

Not that the why’s and how’s are very important, anyhow. What’s important is that they’re sitting around, exhausted, sun-burnt (well, most of them, anyhow), staring into the night, when Billy turns . “Do you do push-ups while we’re not looking?”

The night makes Frank look paler, his features sharper. His eyes are very dark. “Different builds. Mesomorph, I don’t need to do much.”

Billy squints at him, pushes his arm against Frank’s. “Bullshit. You’re broader.” He’d know. “Mesomorph, what the fuck?”

Unimpressed by the prissy response and the way Billy is pushing into his personal space, Frank shrugs. “I said what I said. It’s just biology, some people gain muscle easier, some people are naturally slim, you know.”

“What,” Billy says, and this time one or two guys look up at the tone of his voice, “you saying you’re stronger than me?”

“I’m saying you’re built for speed and grace and stealth.”

“Stealth, huh? I could hold you down if I felt like it.”

Here, then both pause. Frank hums, then holds his stare for a moment.

“What? You want to try?” Billy raises a brow at him, challenging.

A shrug, exasperated. But despite the act, Frank goes down easily, broad back on the sand, jacket and shirt grey in the pale light. Fabric pulling over his chest.

Billy rolls his shoulders back. “I’ll hold you down, you won’t be able to get up, I win.” He swings one leg over Frank’s him. Just like that, he’s towering over him, sitting on his lap. The wind brushing through his hair is cool, but Frank’s warm between his thighs, solid.

“Here, I’ll put my hands up, see if I can get you off me that way.”

It’s probably charming, the way Frank tries make this easy for Billy, but Billy’s not one to be charmed by alms. He slaps Frank across the cheek. “If your hands are over your head, it’s because I put them there.”

It’s mostly for effect, the slap more sound than pain, but Frank’s eyes are black and when he’s reaching for him this time, he means it. Heat and strength, a hint of pent-up aggression, a hint of something else. Frustration, maybe.

At first, it’s just like that, a heated quarrel with Frank’s hands on him to try and push him off, Billy’s thighs tightening to keep his balance. But it doesn’t stay that way, not to the outsider. They go at it for longer than necessary. And it’s calculated, too, their moves slow, energy-efficient. It’s due to exhaustion, clearly. It’s not very thrilling to watch. Two rowdy kids, trying to stay up for another 15 minutes by acting up.

“Hey, you two tell me who won tomorrow,” someone says somewhere to his left, but Billy isn’t looking. Frank pulls his hand from his grasp with ease and Billy slaps at his wrist for it, almost an afterthought. He’s listening.

Boots, joints, fabric, silence. No one left but them.

Frank’s slowed, too, and he’s breaking eye contact to look to the side, eyes big and shiny in the low light. His mouth soft and parted slightly. Billy slaps him, hard.

It’s a shock, it’s not fair, but Billy has Frank’s wrists in hand and pushes them into the sand over Frank’s head. With Billy’s weight on him and his arms bend in that way, Frank has no real leverage to free himself. Billy leans down and pushes his tongue into his mouth.

It’s hot, messy, a different kind of fight. But he’s pushing Frank’s wrists into the sand, he’s pushing his tongue down his throat and his grinding down against him and he’s won.

Frank’s tongue is hot and slick and Billy wants his cock so, so badly. “I can’t fucking – “ He swallows, grinds down against the hot line of Frank’s cock. “I can’t fucking wait for April.”

Three more weeks, then they’ve got those four days to themselves, some little hotel, a bed. It’s not much, but it gets Billy through the rougher days nonetheless. The promise of Frank, a door with a lock, running water. Frank.

“I miss –“ A lot of words. The warm weight of Frank’s arm across his chest, his sleepy-soft sigh in the crook of Billy’s neck, his off-duty laughter, his moans. “-miss fucking you so much.”

Billy pushes his tongue back into Frank’s mouth, slick heat, half-swallowed moans. Frank with his soft lips, his clever tongue, his cock. Unable to pull back and break the kiss, Billy reaches between them to squeeze Frank’s cock.

First, Frank’s mouth falls open, soft and sweet and not at all what Billy intended. It’s only when he nips at Frank’s bottom lip while pulling at his fly that Frank seems to remember his hands, reaching between them to unbutton his fly and, shortly after, Billy’s.

That last part, of course, is made much more difficult by the way Billy’s pulling his right hand up again to lick his palm, making him writhe and push his hips up, mindlessly looking for friction. Billy spits into his palm, pushes his hand down again.

He has nice hands. Big, strong paws, one pressed into the sand again, one, dripping-slick, wrapped around their cocks. Hot friction, hot enough to make Billy’s head spin and his hips twitch. It’s been a while – too long, actually – and Billy knows they won’t last long. Not that it matters, not that he cares. He licks his lips and shifts his weight a little to properly fuck Frank’s fist, feeling his cock pulse against his own.

Frank reaches up with his free hand and pulls at his shirt, pulls it up to reveal his abs. Skin is easier to clean. It’s also nice to look at, even if the moonlight is too silvery to do the flush justice Billy knows to be there. The swell of his pecs is barely visible, the bunched up hem of his shirt almost revealing his nipple, hard in the cooling air.

Billy snaps his hips, watching the way Frank’s abs tense as he arches up slightly, fucking his own fist lazily, letting Billy do most of the work regarding friction. Not that Billy’d complain.

He reaches down, finds the trembling strength of those abs, warm. His eyes follow his fingertips as they run up Frank’s chest, feather light, until he’s pushing his hand underneath the bunched up fabric of his shirt. He pinches his nipple, tugs at it gently and Frank bucks his hips hard enough to almost throw him off balance. With a little laugh, he squeezes Frank’s chest, warm and almost soft in his palm,

Frank’s palm rests on Billy’s hip, warm and heavy, thumb digging into his hipbone. There’s a flutter in his lashes and he’s tightening his grip around their cocks, the slide easier now.

“Yeah, you close?” Billy’s voice is breathy, hitched with his own nearing orgasm, but he can’t stop talking. “You gonna come, Frankie? Come on, show me. Come for me, babe, fuck –“

So Frank does. Flush dark on his cheeks, down his neck, throat working, cock pulsing, come splattering on his twitching abs.

Almost entirely silent, except for a soft little exhale, his powerful body twitching with the waves of his orgasm, with the effort of keeping his voice down.

Billy can’t bite back his own hitched little moans when he comes shortly after, drunk on Frank’s heavy-lidded stare, the wet shine of his tongue flicking over his bottom lip, the tight-wet slide of his hand. Pleasure rolls through him like a wave, blinding and drowning him for a moment before he comes to, gasping and wet and disoriented.

Billy makes a face at the way his underwear clings to his soft-wet cock. “Like fucking Mormons.”

“Shut it.” Frank rolls his shoulders back, but his voice is soft, warm with affection and a much-needed orgasm. When they make their way back to the tents, he walks close enough to make sure their shoulders brush.

Hi it’s 3am. I’m so fucking tired... I also might expand his minimally and like...proofread...tomorrow and post it on AO3 maybe...stay tuned x and also like...thanks for reading xoxo

#filth #frankenbilly #brank #drabble #also on mobile the cursive of my end note won't show? idk why sorry bout that

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gtec-anti · 4 years

Text

blame the maknaes

Jaemin comes out of the room half annoyed, half glad. He has been kicked out of his room in the most endearing way, endearing yes but kicked out, nonetheless.

He walks to the kitchen and decides to cook, he can use the time while he waits for the duo to wake up or he can also climb the top bunk and just sleep anyway. Although his pride will not allow that, he wants to show up at the exact moment the young ones wake up and rub it in their faces that—Yes! His bed is the most superior.

Gathering the ingredients one by one, he notices a grumpy looking snowman tottering in the kitchen.

“Did you have trouble choosing your pajamas that you decided to just ‘whatever, I’m wearing it all.’?”

Renjun smiles at him fake, “Uhh, shut chup!” he replies with a honeyed voice.

Jaemin only smiles back and continues his work.

Slowly, Renjun tries to creep onto Jaemin’s back to peep at his cooking.

Jaemin turns to him, “Yes?” with the same voice Renjun used earlier.

Spinning on his heels, Renjun strides away—offended.

Jaemin hums and resumes his work. Quiet but efficient in his cooking he drops the last ingredient, satisfied. When he turns around, he spots the same snowman sitting on top of the dining table. Calm, he angles himself onto the opposite counter and folds his arms.

“Yes?”

“Can chu shtop doin tha?” Renjun babbles.

“Only when you tell me why’re you wearing your entire closet? You look like the lost snowman in my snowglobe.” Jaemin studies him from head to toe.

Tilting his head to the side like there is a script to read, “I jusch pfeel like it,” he says in monotone.

Jaemin’s face changes to wolfish and concludes something must have been going on. “Okay.”

He twirls to face what he is cooking and pretends to do some extra work; Although, as he chops some more onions that he totally does not know where to put after, his mind already whirring for Renjun.

A minute later and food is done, he serves on the table for two because he knows the other wants to eat.

“You wanna take off a few dozen of your scarves before eating?”

He contentedly accepts the first scarf thrown at him.

They eat relatively silent with a few teasing glances from Jaemin and exasperated sighs from Renjun.

When he finishes washing the dishes and sees no Renjun, he mutters under his breath, “I got played.”

Jaemin watches the time tick by, 9, 10, 11… It reaches almost 12 when he stands and checks in the shared room again only to be disappointed by 2 heavily sleeping maknaes. This is why they say there’s no use raising kids.

He slouches back to the living room and half-heartedly decides to finally just sleep there. Amidst the serene mood of ceiling-gazing, he remembers Renjun and how comfortable he must be. He scrambles to the other’s room.

Fortunately it is unlocked, even so he wonders why the knob and the floor at his feet are so cold, he barges in still.

“Heya!” he waves a hand at first but fists it after feeling the cold.

“Wait, were you actually serious about the snowman thing?” his face creases.

He avoids a pillow by an inch.

“Ohh, so that’s what!” Jaemin slaps a fist with his other open palm.

“What,” Renjun croaks.

Jaemin switches the light on to look at Renjun properly and asks, “Can I turn the light on? I can’t see you.”

The boy in bed gawks at his actions, eyes reflecting dissatisfaction—Jaemin however ignores as usual.

“Chenle’s at our room by the way, asleep, with Jisung, in my bed, very warm might I add.”

Renjun sits up in a flash, “What! I thought he went out and booked in a hotel or something!”

“Nope!” Jaemin chimes with a pop, “but my bed? Tsk. Comparable to a hotel’s.”

“That is so unfair! He’s all warm and snugly while I freeze to death!?” Renjun screeches.

Jaemin backs up a little. “I.. I don’t think it’s this b.. bad?”

Renjun’s eyes are swift to change and Jaemin has no choice but to fake convulse if things get any worse. Renjun tries to stand but Jaemin stops him.

“Hey, if it makes you feel better I’ll sleep with you!” Jaemin takes a shot in comforting.

And guesses it might have been bad because Renjun seems absolutely appalled. He smiles anyhow.

“And how would you know that’ll make me even the tiniest bit better!” Renjun grits his teeth as his voice raises another octave higher.

Jaemin’s brain gears in a sudden labor in inventing a rebut. “I’ll die with you?” he convinces the other dumbly.

Renjun’s expression transforms into a complete blank slate and Jaemin is afraid he may have broken him.

“You don’t have to,” Renjun breathes softly.

Jaemin melts, he moves his hands to cup Renjun’s cheeks and Renjun lets him. “No?” he whispers.

The wrapped boy nuzzles onto his palms, his eyes twinkling, “Not if I kill you first.”

His mouth twitched—yeah it was too good to be true.

“Okay, but can you do that later because I’m tired and I have an early schedule tomorrow.” His voice brittle while he starts to undo each fabric Renjun is wearing.

Perplexed, Renjun stops his neat fingers, “What.. are you doing?”

Jaemin’s smirks and focuses back on his work, “You’re not exactly sleeping with all of this are you?”

“I kinda have to if I don’t wanna end up frostbitten tomorrow.”

“You’re overreacting,” Jaemin objects, “I’ll share the bed with you,” His tone authoritative, surprising Renjun. His hands meticulous in undoing the other’s clothes, it takes a good amount of time but he successfully undoes it.

Renjun, left with only his silk blue pajamas starts to shiver after a few short moments. Though still in confusion, he lets Jaemin get away.

“I’m cold.”

“Wait,” Jaemin murmurs close in his ear. He steps away for a bit to switch off the light and comes back to maneuver Renjun comfortably onto the bed with such precision in the dark, Renjun becomes baffled.

Lying down the bed, with Renjun’s back tucked in Jaemin’s chest, Renjun fusses around non-stop.

“Do you wanna pee or something?”

He settles but strains his neck to look at Jaemin. “You’re in skinny jeans, can you sleep with that?”

Jaemin gently bumps his crown to turn it back and he replies, “Why? Does it scratch your skin?”

He shakes his head no.

“Sure?”

He nods.

“M’kay, not changing then, too tired.” A yawn follows and a tighter grip around his waist.

A few minutes of silence and Renjun is sure that Jaemin is sleeping, he whispers into the dark, “Goodnight, Nana.”

Jaemin wakes up to inaudible chattering, his eyes still a little blurry but he is certain he just saw a camera flash.

“Wha?” he groans.

“Good morning hyung, you seem comfortable.” Jisung chirps.

A heavy load that sprawls above his chest stirs, then he remembers Renjun.

He hears a high-pitched giggle and the load above him begins to shuffle.

Renjun turns to the sound, “I will kill you Chenle, but later.” He spits venomously and crashes back down on Jaemin’s chest.

The pair leaves the room subsequently, and Renjun smacks him soundless.

He clicks his tongue, “What.”

“Thought you have an early,” Renjun mumbles on his shirt.

“Oh,” he snorts, “I just said that.”

Renjun clambers to sit on his chest, his face leering above Jaemin. Then he thinks, this may be the best time to fake convulse.

end

p.s. a little irrelevant but, this is kind of a sequel to my chenji shortfic so if you wanna check that out too --> p1 | p2

p.p.s i wanna use pictures but i also dont wanna be sued, how do you ask the op’s

#nct #nct dream #renjun #jaemin #renmin #jaemren #fanfic #ff #flash fiction #bros and hoes stream reload #stay home write a story #jaemin said fuck them kids #nct dream fixed unit #!!!!!#should i have named this the heater series #or like the blame game #im so bad at titles

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monstrousaffections1 · 4 years

Text

Fire Root part 3

Olivia walks down the streets, green hood pulled up. Shopping bags full. Enough to last her another week or so. This is what she spends her pay check on. Food, bills and occasionally. Something nice. The money had originally seemed like more. Perhaps because back then. She was living with Lilith. And she had been free to spend what she earned on what she wanted instead of what she needed. Sometimes she had no idea why she even left. She knew why. But… sometimes she regretted it. Like now for example. Wiping some sleep out of her eyes she yawns. This was the third night she hadn’t been able to sleep. God she was so tired. Droplets of rain speckled the grey footpath. A sprinkle of a oncoming storm about to hit the city with vengeance. And she didn’t want to be caught in it when it comes. Closing her eyes she lets out a sigh. Feeling the wild wind hit her face and push her hood down. Most of the little shops and hotels remain closed today. No one aside for the shopping centre dared brave this wild autumn weather. But that’s only because the employees would get fired if they didn’t show up. The rain is getting heavier. The thunder roars, making her heart quicken. A lightening flash catches her eye up ahead. She starts to run, but the bags weigh her down. Another gush of wind blows her hair into her face, she yells and picks up the shopping bags, holding them to herself. Finally reaching the zebra crossing she stops; home is just across the park. Normally she’d go around the footpath. But…

The stop sign spins in the wind and thunder makes the ground shake. Her heart stops for a moment. And for a second she’s sure she died. But then the fear catches up. And she knows she’s alive. Bursting into a sprint she runs across the road and into the park. Racing for home. Her boots splash in the wet grass as she runs. The rain blinding her eyes and soaking her through and through, pelting and stinging her face as she tries to make sense of her direction. She couldn’t see clearly. Which way was home!? Thunder booms directly above her. She keeps running straight. Just go straight. Finally her eyes catch the streetlights glinting just over ahead. She runs for it. Seeing just in time the curb and leaping over it, right into the road. A car screeches to a stop and honks furiously. She doesn’t stop to apologise. But as she races to the line of houses, she takes a glance back, and briefly catches a glimpse of the old woman’s face behind steering wheel. Olivia’s eyes widen and, in that moment, of blind fear. She runs right into a fence. She shrieks as she ricochets off the fence and falls flat on her back on the footpath.

Staring at the clouds as the milk bursts upon impact with the ground. Cans rolling down the hill and the fruits and vegetables soiled by the dirty ground. Jars smashing upon impact. Slowly. She sits up, groaning in pain. Just there. Sitting in the rain. Watching the jar of coffee roll away along with the tinned peaches. The tin dog hitching a sled ride on a slab of stake and the bananas surfing the rain water all the way to the drain. “…Fuck.” The car door opens and the old woman steps out, opening the umbrella, “Olivia!?” She calls out, starting to rush over. Olivia scrambles to her feet and bolts. “Olivia! wait!” She had hoped Sister Agnes wouldn’t recognize her. But today wasn’t her day. The nun watches the girl disappear into the rain. Reaching her house, Olivia runs inside and slams her door shut, locking it. Dripping from head to toe she pulls the curtains closed and flicks on a light, walking to her shower, leaving wet footprints on the floor she kicks off her boots and peels off her socks, throwing her hoody onto a chair and strips herself of her clothes, hopping into the warmth of the shower. She shivers. The warm water contrasting to the freezing cold just outside. As she warms herself. She thinks. ‘Will they find me? I screwed up so bad. What if they get me again? I’m such an idiot what was I thinking?’ If she was caught she’d be sent back to St Albertus. And like Hell she’d go back. She was Never going back. Turning up the heat she hisses as the water begins to burn. But she remains under the spray, tilting her head back, letting it run over her head and face. Relaxing, she shivers again. She turns around and lets the water spray upon her neck, the hot water taking away the growing ache that is beginning to develop in her upper spine. She frowns. ‘If they come for me, I’ll have to kill them.’ Now thinking rationally, she begins to scrub a soapy sponge on her arm. ‘Or, I can get Lilith and Azazel to take care of it. They’ll be less likely to get caught. And will be more officiant.’ She smiles. Of course, this is only as a last resort. It’s highly unlikely she’d get taken back to the Nunnery at this age. But… she’s still a registered runaway. Oh well.. hears the hoping Sister Agnes keeps her trap shut.

The rain pelted noisily down upon the roof of the Cathedral, the wind howls and a slight draft sneaks through a crack in the old stone that makes up the foundation of the ageless building. The only light comes from the flickering candles that have been placed carefully, one after the other, in swirls, lines, if viewed from above, you would see a flower, circles, and roses, flame and waves. The demon looks down at the bottle of sacrificial wine in his hands. A soft smile on his lips. Looking up at the sky he sighs. “I hope the display gets your attention Grandpa… I made it specially for you.” He gestures to the candles that surround him. “So, I just wanted to ask you. What do I do now?” He runs a hand through his fur. Looking around at his work. “I know you probably don’t normally hear from people like me.. and you probably don’t want to hear from someone like me. But I need… I need something... right now... after all that’s happened... your pretty much the only one around who has any figment of a idea of what’s going to happen next.” Plucking a lose feather from his wing, he stares at the soft bit of down. With a flick he ignites it and watches as it sizzles and turns to soft ash in his hand. “Grandfather… I know I don’t belong among you and the others. But I don’t quite fit much with my brothers either... or anyone for that matter.” He shakes his head, blowing the ash away. He yawns. Rubbing his eyes. “I just need to know who I am… where I belong.” His ears prick as the door creaks loudly. With a powerful flap of his wings, he ascends. Landing on a beam of the rafters just as a sopping wet figure staggers inside and struggles to shut the door against the storm raging outside. Malakh tilts his head, curiousness grasping him as he backed into the shadows, using the darkness to conceal himself, wrapping his wings around himself, tail curling around the beam.

Mason shakes the water droplets off his umbrella, leaning the item of watery protection against the wall. Eyeing the candles with uncanny suspicion he carefully steps through and over them. ‘Did the volunteers do this?’ Sitting down in the pew he shuffles along. Opening his bag he looks for his bible ‘Seems like a fire hazed really..’ bowing his head he presses his forehead to the leather bound book. Concentrating all his will power into the spiritual object. “Lord. Please protect Olivia when she goes on her shifts. I know she won’t listen to me. She’s stiff necked like that.” Malakh tilts his head, raising a brow with curiousness. “I know she is a sinner, O lord. But she knows not what she does. Please help her to turn from her dark path. And guide her to your light. Lilith’s hold is strong on her. But I believe she is not beyond redemption.” Mason opens his eyes and raises his head, sitting up straight he gazes upon the stained-glass painting of Jesus upon the cross. He smiles. Knowing his prayers will be answered one way or another. ‘Oh well, if it’s subtle I’ll just ask Gabriel for advice.’ He planned on catching up with the Archangel later anyhow. A nice chat over coffee always got the gears turning in his head. Enabling him to focus on his studies. Something soft brushes his hand. Mason blinks as he looks down. An orange feather. Picking it up he studies it. ‘A bit big for a bird feather…’ frowning with puzzlement he stood up, looking above at the beams. “Hello!?” he called. Stepping out of the pews he searches around the ceiling. “Is someone hear?” Malakh smiles. The jig is up. Mason gulps, picking up his bag he’s about to leave when movement in the dark catches his eye. The ginger teen stares as two ginormous wings slowly open, casting a shadow down upon him. ‘An angel.’ he thinks. And his breath leaves him. His can feel his heart trembling in his chest. Angels always carried a intimidating feel. But this was different. It didn’t feel… Holy. The boy took a unconscious step backwards as the dark figure moved along the beam, into the candle light.

Malakh leaped from the beam as the boy chose to run. Gliding down he slammed into the younger’s back. He hadn’t even made it to the door. Mason opens his mouth to scream but the air has been knocked out of him. Pain burns in his mouth as his teeth crash together when his chin collides with the red carpet. The weight of the demon upon him sets in. Pinning him to the floor. ‘Lord Help! God! Please have mercy!’ forcing his voice through his heaving and gasping form he wheezes out weakly “Uriel!” Malakh tilts his head, raising a brow with amusement. “Ah jeez kid, calm down, your too young to have a heart attack.” He laughs, tail lashing back and forth wildly. Mason tries to squirm but weight is put on his head, pinning him down. “aah!” he yells out in fear, eyes looking at the demon who smiles. Humour written all over his face. “Awwww your so cute haha.” Malakh laughs and lifts his weight off of the mortal, sitting back. Mason squirms out from under him, turning around and staring at the demon who crawls towards him with a playful gleam in his turquoise coloured eyes. The young man scoots backwards till he feels his back hit the door. The demon looming over him. Malakh tilts his head, raising a brow. “What’s wrong?”

He gulps, feeling breathing become slightly quickened. Beads of sweat dripping off his forehead. “W-who are you…” the demon fluff his wings delightedly. “I’m glad you asked- I’m hear to ask the Lord for guidance.” He puffs his chest, looking proud of himself. Mason blinks. “but.. y-you’re a demon..” “yes, and?” the mortal takes the time to scrabble up the wood of the door to his feet, the demon also rising to his own feet, standing half a foot taller than himself. Mason can’t help but stare up in awe. He’s never seen a demon like this before. None of those he’d encountered had been so… gentle. But then again. He’s never met many demons before. Only two in his entire life. And they had got him drunk and pretended to steal his soul as a practical joke. Malakh smiles, and leans over the boy a little, leaning one arm by the smaller’s head. Raising his hand, he lets a claw extend. Sharpening to a point. Mason’s eyes widen. The hair on the back of his neck standing up and his heart beating a million miles per-hour. He winces and clenches his eyes tight when demon moves. Only to push the human’s glasses back up his nose to where they are suppose to rest. “Have you ever thought of tying these on? They look like they fall off a lot.” Opening his eyes Mason almost wants to confirm that his eyes won’t be pulled out but.. he doesn’t want to give the other ideas. But when he feels the demon’s tail wrap around his ankle, he knows he’s going to be hear a while.

#mafia #Demons #gangsters

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thisisthepartwhereyou · 5 years

Text

BEASTARS MINI-STORY # 2: “Alea Iacta Est” by JCL

We are in an office somewhere in the Horns Conglomerate. Juno is standing behind a changing screen, changing her clothes.

JUNO: "You know Louis, it was very nice of you to have a tailor design an outfit just for me."

Louis is standing nearby with his arms behind his back, staring in the opposite direction with a bored expression.

LOUIS: "Don't think too much about it. Many of my father's most important clients will be present at this event, so I can't take you with me and have you look anyhow."

This prompts Juno to stick her head above the screen with an agitated expression.

JUNO: "Anyhow?! Since when have I looked just 'anyhow?!'"

LOUIS: "You misunderstand me. Appearences are everything on these kind of events, as they leave everlasting impressions that could prove to be very helpful later in life. That's basically what these occasions are for: Looking presentable and making valuable connections."

Juno's ears drop at this.

JUNO: "Sounds a bit self-centered for what is supposed to be a charity event..."

Louis gives off an amused little smile.

LOUIS: "Held by shallow and stuffy people, who'll look good as they handle donations entrusted to them by those who has more money than they know what to do with. They call it a charity, but really, it´s just a celebration of ego".

Louis looks over his shoulder, and then notices that Juno is giving him a sad expression. His smile dims and he looks away.

LOUIS: "... But if the money still goes to those in need, who cares if it's for egotistical reasons?"

Juno looks happier at this notion. Louis clears his throat.

LOUIS: "Ehum, anyway, you probably don't have to worry about blending in. This dress is designed to ease them in to you. If they can accept you on first sight, you can act as unrefined as you like. You can act pretty much as you always do."

Juno's expression turns to that of intense annoyance. She clearly didn't like the therm "unrefined" or the implication that she needs to be "eased in to."

JUNO: "Is that how it works for you I wonder, with them pretty suits you wear...!"

She mutters as she sinks back behind the screen. Louis give the changing screen a nervous glance, as he clearly sensed the venom in Juno's tone.

LOUIS: (Did I say something wrong?)

Then he sighs.

LOUIS: (Perhaps it was a bad idea to invite her in the first place?) --- We enter a flashback, seeing the events that lead up to this whole situation.

LOUIS: (The Horns Conglomerate has been a major contributor to this charity for years; it's higher ups are always expected to attend. As the sole heir to the company I can't just skip it)

For starters, we see Louis adoptive father, Oguma, talking to him with a serious expression.

OGUMA: "It is expected of you to be accompanied by a female. If you arrive by yourself it could be misinterpreted as a weakness, especially considering your age. It is unfortunate that Azuki had to leave to continue with her studies, but you can surely bring someone else for the sake of custom."

LOUIS: (It's a good thing that it doesn't have to be a romantic partner) --- LOUIS: (I am also quite glad I didn't have to ask Azuki. That would have been uncomfortable.)

We then go to Azuki, Louis fiance, who is outside a fancy-looking private school in what appears to be midwestern Europe. She does not look happy as she is looking through her textbook, with a noticable, popping vein on her forehead.

AZUKI: "Hmph!" --- LOUIS: (And I can't ask Haru either, considering she's with Legosi)

We are now in Legosi's apartment in the hidden condo. They're sitting at opposite ends of the dinnertable, while Legosi seems to be adjusting a broken tooth with gum, giving off numerous musical melodies though his mouth. Haru looks on with a fascinated expression.

HARU: "Wow, it's like you have a whole backup band in there." --- LOUIS: (I guess through the process of elimination, Juno was the most logical candidate)

Now we're in a café. We see Juno sitting at a table across Louis while drinking from a juicecarton with a straw.

JUNO: "A charity event?"

LOUIS: (She is a great dancer, has good manners, is considered all around pleasant company by people around her...)

Juno stops sipping from the juice and grabs Louis by the hand. Her tail is wagging and her eyes are gleaming with excitement.

JUNO: "Is that like a party? You're inviting me to come to a party with you?! I've never even been invited to one before!"

Louis looks tense and waves dismissively with his free hand.

LOUIS: "Just as a friend though! I am still engaged you know."

LOUIS: (Considering the complicated feelings that has grown between us, this may indeed have been a bad idea) --- We're back in the present time in the office of the Horns Conglomerate.

LOUIS: (Though, if anybody at the gala thinks we're a couple, I can just explain that we used to be in the drama club together) "Are you finished soon?"

JUNO: "Okay, okay, keep your shirt on!"

Juno walks out from behind the screen. She is wearing a pure white dress with a long skirt, reminiscent of the one worn by Marilyn Monroe in The Seven Year Itch (1955), with a see-through shoal draped over her shoulders. Juno gives Louis a cheeky look, hand on hip and everything.

JUNO: "Well? How's this for anyhow?"

Louis stares at her with a stunned expression, like a deer caught in the headlights.

LOUIS: "It is...!" (If I admit that she looks absolutely radiant, she'll take full advantage of it) "It is quite good. Though it is a bit different from what I commissioned from the tailor." (Good, keep up a strong front and deflect the subject)

JUNO: "Well I had to ask for a few modifications. I don't think the original design was meant for a canine; it would have been too restrictive to move in. Also, considering this is a formal affair, I don't want to look like a little lost girl. With this I look more like a young woman who knows where she's at, don't you think?"

Louis gives off a little smile.

LOUIS: "Well, I suppose..." (I guess she does have a good feel for these kind of things. Impressive for someone who claims she has never been to a party before)

JUNO: "Oh, I almost forgot!"

Juno suddenly spins around, revealing that the dress has an exposed back.

JUNO: "What do you think about the back?"

Louis eyes pops out of his skull, like a lovestruck character from a Tex Avery-cartoon.

LOUIS: "Nuh-"(BACK! NAKED BACK! BACK NAKED!)

JUNO: "It's not too daring, is it? The tailor insisted that this was the norm for women on these charities."

LOUIS: "D-Did he now?" (That perverted little BASTARD! Forget the drama club angle, there isn't going to be a single animal in the building who'll think she's just an aquiantence with an outfit like that!)

JUNO: "I mean I think it should be appropriate enough with the shoal."

Juno lets the shoal over her shoulders drop a bit, which further seems to excite Louis. Louis stretches his hands out in front him, approaching Juno like he was zombie or something.

LOUIS: (What is this unnatural desire? I am losing control, my hands are moving by themselves... I want her, I want her NOW!)

Louis hands grab ahold of Juno's shoulders. She looks surprised.

JUNO: "S-Senpai?"

LOUIS: (CRAP! I've lost control, my desire for her is overflowing my common sense...! I need to think of something quick...! Something... Something UNSEXY!)

Louis summons the unsexiest memory he can think of: Legosi in drag. It works like a charm and he simply pulls the shoal back up to Juno's shoulders.

LOUIS: (I have to thank Legosi next time I see him) "If you keep it up at this level, I think it'll be fine."

Juno smiles at this, unaware of what Louis almost did.

JUNO: "Really? And it still works with what you're wearing?"

LOUIS: "A white dress should work just fine with a black tux."

JUNO: "Do you have it here?"

LOUIS: "Sorry, it's at the cleaner." (Actually I have it in my father's office, I just don't want to partially unclothe myself after this)

JUNO: "Aww that's too bad...! I would have loved to see how you look in it.'

LOUIS: "You will soon enough. Now, if that is all, how about lunch?"

Louis turns around to look at his phone. As he does this, Juno notices something: Louis tail is wagging.

LOUIS: "I feel like I could eat a whole three-course meal right now..."

JUNO: "Alea iacta est."

Juno mumbles this at a very low volume. Louis gives her a questioning look.

LOUIS: "Hm?"

Juno quickly turns on full cheerful-mode.

JUNO: "I said I'd like that too! Your treat as always?"

Louis sweatdrops at this.

LOUIS: "Sure..."

JUNO: (I'm onto you. Your tail, your appetite, it's the same for me. Who would've guessed that a deer would show the same signs as a carnivore?)

LOUIS: "You may want to change though. That might a little too extravagant for the cafeteria."

JUNO: "Alright. You go ahead, I'll come as soon as I can." (You better watch your step, senpai)

Louis proceeds to walk out of the room, while Juno goes behind the screen to change back to her regular clothes. Juno gives off a sly expression; this is what she's been waiting for.

JUNO: (The die is cast)

THE END

#beastars #fanfiction #script #juno #louis #ship #mini-story #jcl #red deer #wolf

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kate-sinclaire · 5 years

Text

thief (m raleigh x mc)

Part One // bad reputation (raleigh x mc)

Book:  Platinum Pairing:  (m raleigh x mc) (Ella Andrews) Rating:  PG-17; sexual themes and language Word Count: 2,273

TAGS: @zodiacsign1 @owleyes374 @lovedrakewalker @averysheart-raleighsdick @cordoniasmost

NOTE: All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios (minus, for the most part, Ella Andrews), I’m just borrowing them. I also do not own the image. Image found on weheartit.

Summary: This takes place in Chapter Seven of Platinum where MC and Raleigh attend the charity gala, and then sneak off to an abandoned building (which later turns out to be Raleigh’s).

DISCLAIMER: Some of what happens in this story is not the same as what happens in the Choices version (example: in this adaptation, what Ella wears is different than what she wears in Choices). This is just a creative adaptation rather than a direct copy. ALSO: I know that they escaped on a motorcycle to the abandoned building, but since Raleigh was drunk in this chapter, it was a no go.

A gala. A fucking gala. How had he been convinced to attend a GALA? He pursed his lips and swept his hair back, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He leaned over the sink, his strong biceps holding up his weight against the porcelain. His dark eyes stared back at him, as though awaiting his decision to speak.

"You are Raleigh Carrera," he nearly growled. "You are God's greatest punishment to women, you are every woman's biggest regret, you hate commitment, and you do not have feelings for Ella Andrews." Even he didn't buy it. Shit.

He took another swig of whiskey from his flask. Was he really going to show up drunk to this thing? Abso-fucking-lutely. Right on brand.

Ella stood outside the building, posing for pictures and offering autographs to anyone who wanted them. She had nothing better to do as she waited for her very late fake boyfriend, and the summer air was nice and warm against her skin. Letting out a shaky sigh, she gave another smile, blew another kiss, and made her way to the entrance one slow step at a time.

"Ella, how's songwriting going?" "Are you writing any songs about Raleigh?" "Ella, what was your inspiration for the gown?" "Ella, what made you choose to sponsor a wildlife conservation charity?"

I should at least answer this one, she thought, standing a little straighter. "Wildlife conservation has always been important to me. No one seems to focus enough on preserving our world or the life that lives in it. Animals go extinct every day from poaching, several tons of plastic are dumped into our oceans, destroying the life that lives in them. Coral reefs are dying and, in the meantime, we're just letting it happen. There needs to be more awareness on the matter, and so when I happened upon the charity, giving back to it was a no-brainer."

"Can I quote you on that?" Ella nodded briefly, gave one last smile, and decided to head toward the entrance. Just as she made it past the foyer, she ran headfirst into her "lover's" arms. Something about their last day together had diminished her feelings; not by much, though, and especially not when looking at Raleigh's muscular physique in a tuxedo. Her eyes met his, and she cocked her head as she noticed the tint of red in them, and the rose color to his cheeks to match.

"Nice of you to join," she commented wryly, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips. How did something so innocent send waves of electricity shuddering through her body? He seemed to drink in her presence, his eyes trailing down her collarbone to her heels, and back up again. There was something else hidden in those deep brown irises; heat, maybe?

"Sorry, I was occupied," he slurred finally, offering her his arm. "Shall we?" They walked in through the foyer and to the gourmet food stands nestled in the back. Ella filled up a plate of rolls, honey baked ham, and chicken. At the end of the line, she grabbed a heaping cup of coffee along with a glass of water and tugged Raleigh along to find their assigned seats. It was a good thing waitressing had given her such a talent. "God, can you really eat that much?"

She shot him a look and pushed the food over to him, along with the giant mug and large glass. "This is for you. Something tells me you need to sober up."

"Pshh, I'm not-I'm not drunk," he stammered, ending the sentence with a hiccup. He chuckled and not-so-politely shoved the bread into his mouth.

"Ms. Andrews, how lovely to see you!" Ella turned to a smaller, older man in a dark blue suit. She stood and held out her hand, keeping up her poised and etiquette performance. "Pardon me, I'm John Tellar, one of the creators of the project." She did everything to avoid her wince as she felt Raleigh clumsily rise behind her. "Ah, and Mr. Carrera, it is an absolute privilege that you would grace us with your presence."

"That sounds likely," he agreed.

"What he means," she replied, grabbing onto his hand and giving him a warning squeeze. "Is that it is such an honor to have been invited to an event like this. Wildlife conservation is an issue so close to my heart."

"Ah, yes," he replied. "Conservation is a great thing. Anyhow, I believe I see someone waving me over. So lovely to meet you both." He dismissed himself with a grin and made his way through the crowd.

"What the hell was that Carrera?" she asked, spinning on her heel. As she did so, she instantly regretted it, seeing as though there was hardly an inch between them. His cologne seemed to cloud her senses, faltering her angry expression.

"Ella," his voice was calm and patient. "Where do you think they received the money for this event?" She looked around her; down at the marble floors, up at the gold accents, around at the gorgeous tables, also accented with marble and gold. Her eyes widened, realization dawning on her for the first time.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "How much of the proceeds even go to wildlife conservation?"

"Less than 10%," he replied, his voice growing angry once again. "Remember that scandal that came out about me a few months ago? About how I don't support charities or some shit like that? This is why." She swallowed hard. How had she been so stupid? Before she could react, Raleigh began to make his way to the stage, determined. While her nerves remained, she decided that she wasn't going to stop him.

"Hey," his voice boomed into the microphone. Everyone stopped, turning their attention to the slightly swaying Raleigh Carrera. "You all are frauds, you know that? You want to know why I don't contribute to your shitty charities?" Oh, God. "Because you don't fucking care. And...you. You tried to turn my girlfriend into a fraud. But you know what? She does care. She does give a fuck." The way he said girlfriend without hesitation nearly brought Ella's jaw to a drop. But he had had so many fake relationships, he was used to them. Right? Her cheeks flushed as the audience turned to look at her.

"She's too good for you," he said. "She's too good for all of us." He stepped down and stormed out the exit. Ella followed, her thoughts racing. What the hell did that mean? Did he just reveal some trace of his feelings connected for her? She bit down on her cheek and stopped just short of him when she found him leaning up against a tree, his eyes staring at the sunset. Nothing was said for a while until he let in a deep breath. "Ella-I...I'm sorry if I embarrassed you up there."

Instead of saying anything, she walked over and wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes flickering to his lips. He pulled her in hard and kissed her, his tongue exploring her mouth and then pausing to kiss down her neck and to her chest. She let out a small moan and pulled back, pressing her forehead to his.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

"Oh no, this is where you kill me, right?" she laughed as they pulled up to an abandoned building. Everything about it said, "Will fall on top of you and crush your dreams; figuratively and literally." Raleigh grinned and nodded at the limo driver, prompting his leave.

"Nah, I don't plan on killing you. You're my fake girlfriend, after all," he winked. There was that word again. Fake. She tried to hide her disappointment with a small smile. Clearly, it had worked because he walked straight on past her and to the door. The knob refused to move as he attempted to turn it. “Shit.”

Ella stood beside him and fumbled with her hair as she glanced up at the now dusty grey sky. She nudged him and slid a bobby pin in his hand. He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re going to help me break in?” She shrugged.

“Why not? Worst case I’ll just cut my hair short and date a goodie-two-shoes celebrity to boost my image,” she smirked, her thoughts relaying to their first conversation.

“You certainly live up to your reputation as a jerk,” Ella had smiled coyly, tugging her guitar at her side, as though shielding her from this alternate world set before her.

Raleigh flashed that million-dollar smile of his and hooked his thumbs into his back pockets. “So you do know who I am.”

Ella shrugged. “I’ve heard your songs and seen the tabloids. The lightbulb went off after I put your face to the name.” He eyed her curiously and flicked his tongue across his bottom lip. “You’re kind of notorious, Raleigh Carrera.”

“Notorious,” he repeated slowly.

“I’m used to your hair being longer, though.”

He chuckled, “My crisis PR team made me get it cut. Going for a more...responsible image. Do you like it?”

Ella paused before answering. She liked it. She liked it too much. “Pretty sad that you have a PR crisis management team, Carrera.”

She shook herself from the memory and watched as he meticulously unlocked the door with a few turns of the pin. “Got it in one.” Raleigh held out his hand to Ella, and she took it as they rushed up the broken steps and out onto the flat roof. The view stopped her in her tracks.

City lights spanned on for miles, twinkling romantically and winking at all who watched. Cars buzzed by in the distance and the honking of angry cabs echoed out in front of them. Raleigh paused and pulled out a bottle of liquor and two glasses before taking a seat on the roof’s edge. He looked back at her and patted the spot beside him.

“This place is yours, isn’t it?” Ella asked with a smirk, taking the glass in front of her and pounding it down. She winced as it burned down her throat.

“Guilty,” he grinned. She gazed out and sighed blissfully. “I used to come here a lot. You know, for nostalgia purposes, after they plucked me from Peurto Rico to join Sunset Skatepark. Things were...crazy in New York.” He took a swig from the bottle and grimaced. “This was where I’d escape.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortably. “I uh...” he paused. “I don’t take anyone up here.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“No,” he said, his voice suddenly sober. “No, I uh. I don’t.” She looked at him, her heart suddenly racing. The winking lights reflected beautifully in Raleigh’s eyes as he stared at her with...longing? “You make me want to tell you things.” Heat flared as he closed the distance between them, holding her carefully against his side. The kisses were tender, yet passionate and desperate; as though they held the answers both were desperately seeking.

Raleigh swung his legs over and jumped down from the ledge, his desire growing as Ella jumped into his arms, gown flowing as she wrapped her legs around his waist and arms around his neck. The kisses persisted, harder and faster. He lowered the both of them to the warm concrete and slid a blanket out from behind a box, laying her down onto the soft fabric.

He kneeled on top of her, caressing her exposed legs as his mouth sought her collarbone. She let out a quiet moan as she guided him up higher, needing him to touch her; needing him to make her quiver. Her hands played with the hem of his pants, gently stroking the skin below. His breath hitched, and he abruptly stopped her. “Before we do this,” he whispered. “I...I need you to know that it can’t mean anything.”

Her heart dropped. “Can’t mean anything?” Was he serious? What about how he looked at her? How he held her? How he...how he touched her? God, she was so stupid. Of course. She was just another notch on Raleigh Carrera’s belt.

“It’s just a bit of fun,” he repeated, but the meaning of the words didn’t quite meet his eyes. She was such an idiot. Ella pushed him off of her, refusing to let him see the tears threatening to run down her cheeks. “Ella, wait-” She shook her head.

“I’m not just a bit of fun, Raleigh Carrera,” she replied to behind her, her voice breaking. Shit. The stinging became too much and she wiped her eyes, knowing that the mascara had smeared over her perfectly made-up skin. She quickly dialed Hank’s number, the need to get away from Raleigh tearing her insides apart.

Though he called for her, Raleigh didn’t follow as she made her way out of the building and down to the sidewalk. He stood watching her shoulders heave up and down as sobs began to choke out of her. He wanted to hold her; wanted to be there. Wanted to apologize; wanted to say he didn’t mean it. Wanted to say he was scared, no, terrified of how he felt about her.

But instead, he just watched as her limo driver came up to the sidewalk, pulling him into his strong arms and glaring up at Raleigh. He rubbed his hand down his face, wetness spilling down from his eyes to his cheeks. It was for her own good, he told himself. I’m no good.

#playchoices fanfic #playchoices #fanfic #raleigh carrera fanfic #male raleigh x mc #raleigh x mc #male raleigh carrera fanfic #platinum #playchoices platinum #platinum fanfic #platinum fanfiction

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peggysousfan · 5 years

Text

Agent Carter AN Au Series

Its here!!! Chapter 12 is partially done! Since the episodes and the story have to coincide with each other, each episode will likely be 3+ chapters each. This chapter is only part of episode 1 and its 2500+ words...so yeah. I’m gonna have a lot of revision and thinking to do for future chapters XD I hope y’all enjoy this one!!!!

Peggy's POV:

I rise early in the morning, right before the sun. I see that Steph is sound asleep, and I slip away for a shower. Today I start working again, and while I am thrilled to leave this building and do more than sit around and read, I am worried. I've never been away from my little poppet before, and I don't know how long I'll be able to go without seeing her. I'm suppose to be in the office at 9 O' Clock and leave around 5, but I'm hoping to leave sooner than that. I know the Jarvis's will take good care of her, but I'm still fearful of what the day lintels. I step out of the shower and quickly change, only to hear Stephanie start to cry. I pick her up and start to nurse her.

Shes been doing amazing since Daniel helped. Daniel... Oh bloody hell. I forgot. What will me working entail for us? I hope we'll still be able to spend time together. I don't want us to grow apart. We've been getting so close...and I'm not exactly sure how to feel about it to other than amazing. I'm not sure if he feels this feeling I do when we're together, but I hope we'll be able to explore it further. Once Steph is finished I lay her back down and make some tea and toast. Colleen grabbed the newspaper earlier and I haven't gotten to read it yet, but when I do, I'm in complete shock. CAPTAIN AMERICA ALLAY YET TO EXPLAIN WEAPON SALE. Oh dammit Howard, what have you done now... I set down the paper and finish getting ready for work. I water the plant and start to fold up the bed, until Colleen enters.

"Oh don't bother, I can't feel my feet." Shes been working more nigh shifts lately and has just returned home.

"Colleen."

"They let 10 girls go yesterday" Here lately since the war ended, woman have been loosing their jobs left and right.

"Did they say why?"

"Because 10 more GI's got discharged." She fluffs the pillows and lies down on the bed. "I had to show a guy from Canarsie how to use a ribbon gun." Its terrible, the world we live in. Woman are seen as less than men, and are forced out of there jobs to make room for them. "Oh I think I have tuberculosis..." Oh dear... that may explain why she has been feeling under the weather lately.

"Thanks by the way, you lent this to me last night while you were at work." Stephanie had barfed all over my sweater in the evening, and before Colleen had left, she let me wear it. She waves it off.

"It looks better on you, ya know. Its something that might catch a mans eye. Say on a date...maybe with a certain fella down the hall..."

"Don't hold your breath." I say. I don't know if he feels the same way, and anyhow we're really good friends. I go to the closet and get my gun to put in my bag. I've had it hidden in a small storage box this whole year. "Especially with tuberculosis." She laughs.

"You know theres a difference between and Independent woman and a spinster. "I walk out of the closet and pick up Stephanie, thankfully she's still sleeping.

"Is it the shoes?" she laughs again. "Clock out, pull the curtains and sleep. Peggy's orders." I grab the nappy bag for poppet and turn to Colleen.

"Okay, but remember if I don't see you, we're going to the movies on Saturday. I have the night off."

"I'll try this time, but you know the office may try to keep me busy."

"Peg, you're working at the phone company, it ain't life and death." At this Steph begins to stir in my arm and snuggle closer.

"Darling... you have no idea." We laugh one last time and then I head out of the door.

Daniels POV:

When I get into the office this morning, theres more buzz than usual. Dooley keeps walking in and out of his office, and the other agents are walking around, answering phones, and writing up reports. Next thing I know, chief walks past me to the elevator.

"Hey look who decided to show up today."

"I'm here everyday Krizminski."

"Not true. You're not here on weekends." I get to my desk, set my crutch aside, and sit down. "Plus you've been skipping out."

"What? No I haven't." This guy is such a pain in my ass.

"Thompson confirmed it earlier. Is it true? You got a dame on your arm, Sousa?" I take a deep breath, let it out, and roll my eyes. "Hey, this is your chance. If you don't have one, then your luck might be changin'"

"What are you rambling on about?"

"We're getting a new secretary, maybe shes your type.. Hell, you could probably lure her in the file room and make a move." He laughs

"What? I thought we were getting a new agent today, not a secretary..."

"Whatever. Lady Agent, secretary, same thing." Lady Agent...? Before I can say anything else, Dooley walks in, and hes not alone. Holy shit...

"Alright, listen up. I have an announcement to make." As the chief speaks, the new agent and I lock eyes, and I'm not sure which one of us is more in shock. "This is our new agent, Agent Carter, from the Brooklyn office in New York." Brooklyn office? It was shut down 6 months ago, where- oh, she was pregnant with Stephanie. Stephanie, whose fathers name was Steve... Oh my god. Steve Rogers, as in Captain America, is Stephanie's father; and shes inherited part of the serum. That explains her strong smacking and flailing arms. I can see Peggy in instant panic, the moment she sees me. Dooley shows her where her desk is and she gets to work, but every eye in the office keeps staring for several minutes before they, too, get to work. God dammit, how could I have been so stupid..? It doesn't take long for her to slip a note to me to meet her in the file room.

"You can't tell anyone about Stephanie." Wow, okay, right to the punch. "Daniel, please, no one can know who her father is." I can see it in her eyes how worried she is. Does she not trust me to not say anything?

"Of course I won't say anything, Peggy." She breaths a sigh, leans back, and closes her eyes. When she opens then, she glances at me, and then away.

"I've been doing so well, what with keeping the identity of her father secret, I don't want anyone to know."

"Thats okay, I get it. I promise I won't tell anyone." She looks at me, as if shes analyzing me, looking for any lies or alternate motives, I guess she not finding any. Which makes sense, cause I have none.

"I had no idea you worked here, Daniel."

"Yeah, well... I do my best to keep my work life and personal life separate. And for the most part, its been working, but..."

"Now I'm here." It wasn't a question, as much as it was a statement. I nod my head and look away.

"I'm sorry..."

"For what?" I finally look at her.

"I appear to always be intruding in your life, and I apologize for that." she gives a dry chuckle. "But you are right to do so. To keep work and personal separate, I think we both need to do that." And my heart is starting to sink. I was afraid of this the moment I saw her in the office. I was afraid we'd grow apart because we wouldn't see each other, now its the opposite, we're going to see each other none-stop. I look down at the ground and nod my head.

"I agree. Complete strangers. We've never met before today and we don't mean anything to the other." I breath a sigh, and her head turns so fast to me, it looks like she had whip lash.

"Right. Complete strangers..." She looks like shes thinking of something. She tilts her head to the side as she bites the corner of her lip... dammit Daniel. I back away from her and turn away.

"Daniel? Where are you going?

"To my post Agent, or did you forget we have work?" She looks offended and shakes her head.

"Daniel..." She looks upset as she starts to walk closer.

"Sorry, I just.. need a minute to process this." She furrows her brows and glances way for a second. "I need a minute to process going from friends to nobody I'm suppose to care about in an instant."

"Nobody- Daniel." She looks appalled and grabs my arm. "What-"

"Well well well, look what we have here." Dammit Thompson. "You two seem nice and cozy. What are you doing down here?" Peggy immediately drops her hand and backs away slightly, and as subtly, as she could.

"Agent Sousa was just showing me the filing system,hes been very helpful."

"Well I bet he has..." She looks between us both confused, but doesn't say anything." Well since you're down here, why don't you put these away for me?"He hands them to me. "See just how much more help Sousa can be." And with that he walks away.

"What an ass." I say

"What an arse" she says. We both say it at the same time. I look over at Peggy and she looks at me, and we both laugh.

Peggy's POV:

After several hours of being at work, I am in complete agony. I miss my daughter. What I wouldn't give to be home right now. I sit at my desk with a report in hand and a pencil in the other. Around and around I spin it, over and over again I read the same damn sentence. Ugh... I look in front of me, and I can see Daniels back turned. I still can't believe he works at the SSR. As I begin to get my mind set back to work, the alarm blares and the red lights flash. I look up and then at Daniel, and our eyes meet. Somethings happening. I get up from my seat and gather some papers, when suddenly the Chief and the others walk to the meeting room.

"Agent Carter, we just caught a red ball out of DC, all hands on desk." I start to gather supplies when he says, "Meaning, cover the phones." Wanker... I grab my telephone and dial up Rose from the entrance.

"Rose? Forward all calls to the briefing room." She agrees and I set down the phone. "Covered, Shall we?" As we head to head to the conference room, Dooley begins to play a film, a film about Howard.

"So far, six pieces of Stark technology have either shown up on the black market or in the arsenals of enemy states. Hes been waffling on the hill. Treating the whole thing like a joke. And yesterday was his final day of hearings. Stark didn't show." Good Lord Howard, I'm going to kill you if I ever see you again. "We've checked his half-a-dozen houses, his half-a-dozen offices. Nothing." He's such an idiot that man. I look away from the chief and look at Daniel, he has no idea what really is going on..." So as of this moment, Howard Stark is a fugitive from justice. Find him. Squeeze him. Till he looses his sense of humor. Thompson you lead." As I look over at Thompson, he starts to explain his ideas and plans, but I can't stand to listen to any more.

"Sir, I really must object-"

"Why am I not surprised." I internally sigh of frustrations. I already know where this is headed..

"Sir, I knew Howard Stark during the war, his help was invaluable. He may be a great many things, but hes not a trader." As I say this I glance at Daniel, whose eyes are glued to me. I look away as the chief speaks.

"We're all aware of your record Agent. I'm sure being Captain Americans...liaison... brought you into contact with all sorts of interesting people. But the Wars over. Let the professionals decide with whats gonna happen." And with that the meeting ends, of course, not without some gossip and rude slander about me and men during the war. Ugh, men are such pigs... But what I didn't expect was Daniel to speak up.

"What did you just say Krizminski?"

"I wasn't talking to you." I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This is going to be a very long day...

"I think you owe the lady an apology."

"Oh. You standing up for her now, Sousa? Well c'mon I ain't got all day." I look away before I lash out at this oaf. Little do you know the strength this man has you utter wanker. Hes worth 10 of you, at least. Krisminski and the others leave, which just leaves Daniel and myself. When he starts to walk by, I say something; something I hope he won't take offence to.

" Agent Sousa, about what you just did..."

"Oh that? It was noth-"

"I wish you hadn't," I say plainly. We have to keep up a front with our co workers, and with Daniel defending me, they could get suspicious.

"You're an Agent and they treat you like a secretary. I just wanted to-"

"And I'm grateful." I smile. "But I'm more than capable at handling whatever these adolescents throw at me." We lock eyes, and my heart starts to skip a beat...

"Yes ma'am. Doesn't mean I have to like it though."

"Well thats another thing we have in common." As we stand there, Thompson approaches us, and of course, he hands me files to put away. Arse.

"I would file these away, but you're so much better at that sort of thing. Ya know, cause you're a woman." I glance at Daniel, briefly, and I can see him getting angry.

"Better at what, Agent Thompson? The alphabet? I could teach you. Lets start with words beginning with 'A'" He laughs and walks away.

"Good one." I look at him and can't help but smile. Oh this is going to be so difficult pretending to not know him at all; let alone ignore how I feel... We both head to our desk and start working again. Before I know it, its 4 'O clock. Oh thank God. I put away my files, grab my coat, and head over to the Jarvis's. Little does Howard know, I've met them several times, and have asked them to never tell Howard about her. As far as they know they are babysitting my niece, whom, I'm taking care of while her parents are away. I hate all of this lying, especially to good people, but no one can know the truth. When I pick up Stephanie, I feel a weight lift off of my chest, I can finally go home with my little girl. And, I don't have to make dinner. The Jarvis's graciously made a roast for me and Colleen, but since it is large enough, I'll invite Daniel over. I leave a note under his door. Hours go by and he knocks at the door.

"Daniel." I walk over to him and embrace him. I've wanted to do this all day. He hold me close, and the Steph begins to giggle. We both laugh. She reaches for him and gables her baby talk. I hand her over and invite him inside.

"So, I hear you have a roast." he says, snuggling with poppet.

"Indeed we do." As we sit down and eat together, I can't feel more at peace.

#peggysous #peggy carter #daniel sousa #Peggy x Daniel #agent carter #agent carter series #au fanfic #fanfiction

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ephrampettaline · 5 years

Text

chatzy log for Soapberry Pride 2019 with:

@thisdaringdanny, @cassiegermaine, @ianncardero, @mayaparker, @bumblingbrujo, @alessafalling, @faye-andrews

Ephram knew there was a wide range of Pride events going on in town, but he'd made a conscious decision to not attend the more solemn things, vigils and memorials. What with recent events coming to terms with Anaxis, getting rid of the threat of Martin Adjaye, he wanted to glut himself in joy and celebration. So it was an atronach block party he decided to attend, the area divided into seven colours of the rainbow each run by atronachs whose glyphs were of the corresponding shade. So far he'd meandered through the Red Zone, getting a crimson arrow drawn in a thick stripe down his face from above his eyebrow to his jawline, and eating a handful of sour cherry candies.

Danny was soaking up as much of Pride as he could, all while trying to fall to the back of the crowd, this event wasn't for him after all but Danny was a intent on being supportive, and getting the fun out of it. Currently that meant pouring drinks for people. He'd made one for himself and when people had seen him making ombre cocktails he'd incidentally become a bartender. "Let's see your wrist band," he asked a couple who had come up to him. He wasn't on the clock but he wasn't accidentally serving teens. "Nice," he grinned, pouring liquid out into a plastic martini glass and handing it over. Spotting Ephram and giving him a wave before pointing to his feathered accent.

Ephram pointed at Danny. "You ain't an orange atronach!" he said in mock accusation. "Although I reckon with how tanned you are, it could pass for orange." Ephram grinned at the fairy, nodding at the martini glasses. "What you mixin' up there? Is it any good or does it taste like cough syrup? So many drinks taste like cough syrup."

"This is a natural tan, one that is from burning myself all day in the sun, mate, not a lick of orange," Danny joked, dusting himself off. "Depends on the cough syrup though, American's have awful cough syrup that all has gross candy flavours so probably," he shrugged with a quick laugh. "Least give it a try, see my amazing skills that now go to waste." Danny picked up one of the syrups on the table, putting a shot of it into the shaker, then a shot of something else, quickly moving through them.

Cassie arrived at Pride events for another chance to get out of the house and entertain Addie. Besides, she wanted to provide any sort of support she could. Cassie kept a firm hold of the little girls hand as they weaved through the events and people. The red head was currently distracted with crayons and coloring pages they had picked up at one of the arts and crafts booths. Cassie was surprised when the toddler promptly and seemingly out of nowhere decided to plop onto the ground and attempt to color against the rough sidewalk pavement. "Hey." Cassie was pulled slightly, "Silly, get up."

"Gross candy flavours is exactly it." Ephram noticed movement in the crowd at the border of the Red and Orange Zones, and recognized who was causing it. "Cassie!" he hollered, waving at her. "Oh, hey -- Addie's here too? Bring er over, Danny's makin' drinks!" He looked at Danny hopefully. "You can make virgin drinks too, right? You got the stuff for it?"

Cassie glanced up when she heard Ephram's familiar holler. She offered a wave with her free hand, her expression only falling slightly when she saw the bar and Danny nearby. It wasn't a situation she could exactly slip into, but at Ephram's insistance and the few grumbles from people trying to step aroud her and her daughter, Cassie hoisted Addie up and walked over. Her smile was slightly crooked as she looked at them, "Sure. What are you having?" Her gaze dropped to Addie again when she swayed somewhat impatiently, "I figured we could both come out for some fun." Cassie explained her presence half-heartedly.

Danny watched as Cassie approached with her daughter. "Not sure anything would be okay for a baby to have, definitely a virgin drink is possible but super sugar," he commented, totally spacing Ephram meant for Cassie and not for Addie.

Ephram shook his head quickly at Danny. "For Cassie," he said, then reached out to bundle Addie out of Cassie's arms and into his own. "Don't let my feathers tickle your nose, now," he told the little girl as he settled her against his shoulder and the brightly feathered epaulette there. "What you been up to so far?" Ephram opened his hand with the last couple of cherry candies -- faintly melting in the heat of his palm -- and offered them to Addie. "I reckon I'm gonna git my hair done in the Yellow Zone. I want it to stand up higher."

Cassie nodded to Danny after Ephram had already clarified thigs for him, "She doesn't need anything. And sugar is alright for me. Really. Just make whatever Ephram ordered minus the booze." Cassie was somewhat releived to hand Addie over, and watched with slight amusement as the few candies Ephram had left were snatched up and shoved in the toddlers chubby cheeks. "Just crafts and puppet shows and the like." Her nose crinkled slightly, "Kids stuff. Addie loves it so, that's all that really matters." She chuckled at Ephram's musing over his hair, "Straight up and down? Like you need any more height as it is."

Danny looked over Ephram picking up the child and playing with her as he spoke to them. Danny had only ever been confident picking up his sisters, other people's kids were a dangerous game. "Uh...yeah, sure," Danny agreed, finishing off Ephram's drink but sitting it on the table since he was holding the child. "Your hair is already yellow, mate. Hair as yellow as my skin is orange."

Ephram scooped up his drink with his now free-but-sticky hand, since Addie'd eaten the candy. "I'm only gettin' styled in the Yellow Zone!" he protested, jogging Addie a little in the crook of his arm. "I might get it coloured blue further on down the block, though. You should come with me, man -- ain't nothin' saying you gotta stay here serving drinks. Who even let you back there, anyhow?" Ephram raised his voice, looking around, and an older atronach woman turned to point at him. "Don't you poach Danny, now!" she scolded, but then laughed and patted the fairy's broad shoulders. "You go anytime you want, child. Have some fun. You can't spend the whole time working."

"Blue would suit you," Danny nodded, looking over the man's hair. Felt like it could suit him to be dyed but he had to wonder how bright blue hair would go over with Freddie...maybe styled well. "No one let me, I just wandered back, walk with confidence and you can go anywhere," but he took the opportunity to climb up on the bar and jump over with ease. "Guess I'm a free man," Danny noted. "Should we go get some blue hair, send Freddie some pictures so he has some entertainment, he's working right?" Danny asked, figuring if Freddie wasn't out celebrating with his husband he was at Stonefruit running events, that or he was celebrating and everyone had got caught up with him. "I think I could rock some blue hair. Match my gorgeous eyes."

Ephram gave Danny a look of exaggerated horror. "Whaaaat? Skip ahead from Orange to Blue without hittin' all the Zones in between? You gotta work your way through the ROY G BIV, Danny. We still got Yellow and Green to get through before Blue." He finished his drink, spinning the glass between his fingers before setting it down on the bar. "That was good. Tasted like if a grapefruit and a passion fruit had a love child." Addie made a disgruntled sound, and Ephram patted her back. "No no no, you're the only child here, punkin. Still the only one."

"Seems like you two know each other very well," Danny said of Ephram and the small child. He hadn't even really seen Addie in the alternate reality, Cassie was always alone with him, or in a crowded room. Cassie certainly seemed more attentive here, but perhaps that was because she could sleep with her husband in their home, rather than needing to get subordinates to do so. "What's going on in yellow then? In my mind it's a lot of blow up bananas, I love pool toys."

Ephram snorted. "Easy way to confirm or deny your dream of blow-up bananas," he said, strolling down the block until they crossed over into the Yellow Zone. There were no inflatable fruit to be found, although the area did weirdly have a bubblegum-banana smell. "Here, Addie -- gonna give you to Uncle Danny for a minute, okay?" Ephram bundled the child against Danny's chest before moving over to a hairstyling station. It only took a moment for him to tell the atronach staffing it what he wanted, and then he bent to offer them his head. The atronach put their hands on either sides of Ephram's head and then blew out a breath, and Ephram's hair immediately blew up straight as if he'd put himself in some sort of vacuum tube. "Whaddyou think?" Ephram asked, excited, as he turned to show Danny and Addie. His hair was piled in soft, semi-collapsing spikes; Addie took one look at him, though, and started to make hitching noises against Danny's chest.

Danny was handed Cassie's daughter and immediately he forgot how to hold a child hands catching her awkwardly and immediately knowing she had to be uncomfortable how he was supporting her, but at least she hadn't fallen. "Hi...there," he said awkwardly to the girl, wondering if she could remember him. Fortunately Ephram wasn't gone long and when he returned Danny looked down, the child making strange sounds, was she giggling or sneezing? "Dude, you look ridiculous, are you Bart Simpson in old age?" he asked with a laugh but evidently concerned for the strange baby sounds.

"Awww, everyone's a critic." Ephram reached out for the toddler again, and Addie gave his hair a long, hard look, still deciding if she wanted to cry or not. "Not so bad," Ephram crooned at her, "unless you're takin' this so-and-so's word for it." Finally she reached up and grabbed a clump of Ephram's hair; then, satisfied that it was still his and attached to his head, turned her attention to the enormous gumball machine that took up a large part of the Yellow Zone. "You gonna git yours done?" Ephram needled Danny, nodding over at the hairstyling booth. "Or you gonna mock the efforts of braver people?"

"Not sure my hair could get paler, plus I'm still pretty content on getting it blue," Danny insisted, watching as the small child pulled and played with Ephram's hair. He hadn't said much when Danny had commented on how well he knew the child but they were so familiar, even for a kid. Kids were crazy obvious when they got on with people, and when they barely knew them. "Looks like your look isn't going to last though so we should get a picture before it's gone," Danny noted, pulling out his phone and holding it up to snap a picture for the Sheriff's husband.

Ephram really just hadn't dwelled much on Danny's observation about him and Addie, taking it as conversation and not any particular inquiry. He held still for the picture, even though Addie herself was entirely distracted by the gumball machine. "If it's as awful as your reaction made it seem, then it'll be a good thing I'll be floppy-haired by the time I get home," Ephram laughed, leaning down as Addie squirmed out of his hold; he barely managed to get her down to a safe distance before she hit the ground and was motoring towards the gumballs. "Shoot. We best follow, huh?" Ephram moved towards the machine, remarking to Danny, "So is it just me, or are you and Cassie a lil ... awkward around each other?"

"Damn kids are speedy," Danny commented of how fast Addie was moving towards the gumball machine, following along with Ephram. "Uh yeah," he said, looking down at his feet as he walked. He'd told Freddie about how he'd been feeling, about Cassie, about Ruby, about just him feeling about himself, and Danny wasn't sure how much of that Ephram would know. They were husbands, if Freddie shared Danny wouldn't be mad, but on the other hand Freddie might not see a point, after all Danny's emotions weren't exactly something that if unmentioned would be bad. "She like apologised to me about some stuff that happened in that...place, and my feelings are just all mixed up," Danny scrunched up his face. "Not like we were friends before but not really sure what I'm meant to say to her now." /When I want to hold her./

Ephram slowed and stopped, since Addie had reached the gumball machine and it turned out to be some sort of weird ... carnival ride? ... for the kids, and wasted no time in having herself boosted into the top and deposited among the giant gumballs and other magic-encapsulated children to be jostled down to the dispensing slot. He looked at Danny as if trying to gauge something, and then said, "Yeah, her and me had some stuff what happened too. Although it was more, uh, cathartic for me. Than it seems like it was for you." Since Cassie and Ephram had been friends before, and lovers too, so they had some sort of common ground to work their way back from. "Was it a sorter situation what warranted an apology, what happened in that other place?"

Danny watched as Cassie's daughter got onto the ride. He needed to keep reminding himself Cassie was different here, that what he remembered there wasn't what things really were. "Feels like my heads just a mess lately," he admitted, not sure he should say more to Ephram. Getting down on himself at a party was fucking lame. "I didn't think it did. We slept together, a bunch, I just...was with her," Danny said, unaware of how much he'd actually missed that Cassie had done in the shadows. "When she apologised it just felt like she thought she'd somehow wronged me, screwed me over when it's the closest I've actually fucking felt to someone in a while." Danny looked around them for something to do with his hands, food to shove in his mouth, anything to distract him. It was fine to get this way in front of Freddie but, regardless of how good a person he knew Ephram was, he was starting to feel closed in on by opening up.

The way that Danny started to get sort of ... soggy and discomfited by the topic of what happened with him and Cassie made it pretty obvious that the fairy didn't want to be discussing his feelings about his other self. Or more specifically his other self with Cassie. Plus there was a familiar sort of downtrodden defensiveness to his behaviour that made Ephram suddenly wonder just how much time Ruby and Danny had been spending together. But that was none of his business, nope, he'd come to that decision and he was sticking by it. Ephram had had enough of offering to talk to people about what they were feeling only to have them then end up kind of resenting him for it. "Sounds complicated," he went with, then stepped forward to collect Addie from the dispensing slot. He collected two gumballs and somebody else's squalling selkie child first by accident, but then Addie came duly rolling out of the metal chute and into his catch. "Had fun, chickadee?" Ephram asked, hoisting Addie up to get her better situated. "I'm glad you're back. I need somebody to keep me from inadvertently turnin' folks into Gloomy Gusses when I talk to em."

Danny relaxed as Ephram concluded the conversation, it wasn't that he'd have resented Ephram, he'd have resented himself for eventually running out on the situation. Bailing because he felt like he was drowning as he often did when he shared his feelings in a situation he wasn't prepared for. Seeing Cassie he wasn't prepared for. "Yeah," he nodded, watching Ephram collect the small child, almost taking another. "You weren't making me sad, I'm just bad at talking, sure Freddie will tell you as much," Danny smiled. "I'm glad the experience was cathartic for you, I don't think you're alone."

The atronach in charge of the ride buttled forward to thrust one of the enormous beach-ball-sized yellow gumballs into Danny's arms with no explanation before returning to his station, and Ephram loped closer to inspect it. "Wow," he said after sniffing its sugary scent, "I think it's a real gumball. Cain't imagine how you'd go about chewin' it though, it bein' big as all that." He didn't address what Danny had said apart from a quick grin and a nod, not wanting to send the fairy into a tailspin or anything. “Listen,” Ephram said as he handed Addie over to Danny, “I’m just gonna run to get my hair blued, I’ll be back by the time Cassie comes back from the bathroom, okay?”

Iann was actually feeling sleepy, in a good way. It felt mellow, and Iann knew that in a few hours he'd be off to sleepyland even if it was the middle of the day. For now, after working with late night functions at the Inn for party-goers and a fascinating trans vampire cabal, he was strolling through town with a purpose. The problem was, he'd forgotten what the purpose was. He still walked though, figuring eventually he'd remember why he was walking about. Aside from watching all the various events going on around town. There was always something going on at any given time.

Maya had, despite going to bed late the night before, woken up early. Today the Soapberry Chamber of Commerce had organized an open air Pride market with every stall donating at least some of their profits to charity. While she and Tuah hadn't quite gotten their bakery open, she was operating a stall under their banner. A little sign proclaimed that 100% of the profits would be donated. Maya herself was dressed in jean shorts, a Pride crop top and had finished the whole look off with rainbow sunglasses. She lounged in a camping chair, sipping a Jones Soda from the nearby cooler.

Towne Square apparently turned into a Pride-esque market at some point - yesterday? Today? Iann couldn't keep track, but it was certainly nice to discover it. He was properly distracted, forgetting completely to think about what he forgot about. Instead, Iann realized maybe he should get some food for his apartment. He'd been eating out this month - mostly at the Inn - and was craving something he could just make and eat at home. Slowing down, Iann tucked his sunglasses onto his baseball cap to browse.

Maya watched the crowds from behind her sunglasses. A few proprietors were calling out to passersby, trying to entice them to buy. She had never been good at that kind of thing. Besides, she liked to think that her array of brightly colored baked goods stood on their own. However seeing Iann, she shouted, "Hey Iann, how's Pride treating ya?"

Iann heard a voice, but there was a crowd around a stall where it seemed the voice came from. Was...a pastry beckoning him? Literally? "Outta the way, I got a date with a prune danish," Iann said, shouldering his way through the gathered purchasers, to reveal a stall with baked goods, and Maya Parker. "Hey Iann, Pride's been great," Iann replied, making a joking riff on their last encounter. "You...uh, running this thing?"

Maya laughed at his greeting. It was far far easier for her to laugh now about their whole Freaky Friday situation. She knew she'd been a bit of a pain to deal with at the time. "Running might be a generous term, but I'm in charge of it," she replied, "Can I get you anything?"

"Mmm I dunno yet." Iann peered at the piles of things. "What do you got? Show me whatever's savoury, I guess. I don't have any sweet tooth."

Ephram lurched up behind Iann. "I got about eight sweet tooths to make up for him. You got anythang with berries?" Having finally gotten to the Blue Zone of the atronach block party, Ephram's hair was now in soft blueberry-coloured spikes to go along with the painted red arrow down one side of his face. He blinked at Iann. "Shit, Cardero -- you look like you're gonna fall over. Late night at the Stonefruit? Freddie said the place is hoppin'."

"Well," Maya replied, taking off her sunglasses, "I've got some croissants, non-magical, zucchini bread that'll boost your energy and in the cooler some take and bake pizza dough if you want something for later."

"Oh I want berries," Iann said, staring at Pettaline for a moment. He didn't recognize the other man immediately. He hadn't seen Pettaline since the witch got the Cinquefoil and now with him all painted up and Sir Pride-a-lot, he was virtually unrecognizable. "Fresh berries, though," Iann amended, and then hummed at Maya's offerings. "Isn't zucchini bread sweet? More like a cake...unless you make something different and just call it zucchini bread to fuck with people, haha."

Maya glanced over at Ephram, gave him a smile and replied, "Raspberry sweet swirls that'll literally make you feel like dancing, Linzer cookies with huckleberry jam and no magic and then blueberry ice cream in the cooler that'll make you feel like you're seventeen again." To Iann's question she shook her head, "Not especially. At least not as sweet as cake. You can try a slice if you want."

Iann held out his hand, never one to turn down samples of anything, especially things he could put into his mouth. "Give me a slice!"

"What, you think she's gonna use dried-up berries in the middle of berry season? What's wrong with you?" Ephram's prodding didn't hold any real annoyance, though, unlike his and Iann's usual interactions. "Back home in Apple Fall my cousin Jenga used to eat zucchini sandwiches. Most people would think that was zucchini in slices of bread but she used to make em from slices of zucchini between other pieces of zucchini. She said it was more authentic that way. I mean, she grew zucchini that was like the size of them Nerf baseball bats so they was pretty big sandwiches." He rubbed his hands together at Maya's recitation of what she had, saying, "I ain't never heard of a sweet swirl before! But I'll take one and a couple of them Linzer cookies. Don't much feel like ice cream, though." More like he didn't want to feel like seventeen again, but that wasn't anything he wanted to dwell on.

"Wow, thanks for the trip down to Apple Fall, Rose Nylund," Iann replied dryly, unable to help himself. He'd stopped listening after Pettaline mentioned he had a cousin named 'Jenga'. "Blueberry ice cream isn't baking. You're like all-purpose dessert-maker. There's a French fancy word for that, isn't there? Patisseroise, or something."

Maya cut Iann a slice of zucchini bread and handed it to him. "Wouldn't it be easier to just eat the zucchini whole? Skip all the cutting?" She nodded at his request. She packed it all into a little rainbow box before telling him the total. As far as Iann's comment, she shrugged, wearing an easy smile. "I'm also halfway decent at plain old cooking. Figured I should be well-rounded," she replied.

Iann "Do you have any butter."

Maya pulled out a small packet of butter from the cooler and tossed it to Iann before picking up one of the plastic butter knives and handing it to him.

Ephram gave a high hooting laugh at Iann's likening him to Rose, resolving to tell Freddie about that. "You'd think so, right?" he nodded at Maya. "But Jenga said she liked the sandwiches on account of she could alternate with green and yellow. She was a big one for stripes." He considered for a moment. "Actually she never ate zucchini whole. Her husband din't like to eat nothin' what looked much like it was phallic. He'd leave town when it was cucumber season."

Iann labouriously but thoroughly spread butter on the slice of bread. "I'm tired, yeah," Iann finally said, answering Pettaline's question from three minutes ago. "June's a busy fucking month. People with rainbows and shit, I don't know if you've noticed Sheriff. You cops sure are doing a half-ass job this month. Any excuse for the pigs to be lazy, huh?" It was grousing but of course it was ironic grousing. He'd taken note of the Sheriff Department's mission statement for their institutional involvement in Pride month, and of course it made sense. It was the epitome of goodness, really. But naturally, Iann had to give Pettaline a hard time about it, even mildly. Aside from some issues here and there, Pride month in Soapberry was an oasis for happiness and charity and awareness and all that socialist paradise crap. Iann took a bite of his bread. "Mmf. Not bad. Do you make them in buns? Baps? Muffins, or scone-ical forms? Like small ones."

Ephram handed over his money and accepted the little rainbow box with a pleased exclamation over its cuteness, but then stood there holding the pastry box in both hands as Iann scolded him about the police presence at this year's festivities. "Uh," he said, not familiar enough with run-of-the-mill Iann orneriness to be able to sort it out from the more usual Iann belligerence where he was concerned, "we's still around, I mean--" Ephram shrugged one shoulder, setting his feather epaulette waving. He figured that was good enough. "Happy Pride, oink oink."

Maya raised an eyebrow, "Seems a bit excessive, but to each their own I supposed." She took another sip from her Jones Soda while Iann either teased or mocked Ephram about Soapberry's policing of Pride. She couldn't quite tell which. As for Iann's question though, Maya considered a moment before saying, "Yeah, probably could make muffins out of it."

Ephram grinned at Maya, relieved to have somebody else to address other than Cardero. "So!" he said brightly, gesturing at the banner above her stall. "This happenin' soon? The shop I mean? You'ns gonna be sellin' ice cream and stuff as well as coffee and bakery baked goods?"

"Are those feathers from your own chickens?!" Iann exclaimed in mock-horror when Pettaline flicked the feather epaulette. "Don't pluck your chickens, man! Buddy owns fancy-ass chickens," Iann explained to Maya. "The type that look like they have better hairstyles than yours." Iann gave her a wink. "I guess they're more...feather-styles." Iann folded the bit of bread he still had and ate it in two bites, listening as the witches talked. He didn't quite follow what Pettaline was asking, and so he just looked at Maya to hear her response.

Ephram said serenely, "My chickens ain't none'a your pluckin' business, Cardero."

Maya laughed at Iann's teasing. "Hey man," she joked back, "This is my 'I woke up like this' hair." Turning back to Ephram, she nodded. "We're still settling on a location, but yeah, the whole thing's coming together. I haven't gotten as far as an exact menu, but I'll probably do some ice cream specials in the summer."

Iann glared at Pettaline, mouth working under his moustache. Because that was stupidly-funny and Iann did love stupidly-funny. But he resented that Pettaline thought of it, with his dumb blue hair and silly facepaint. "What're you even supposed to be?" he demanded, then motioned to Maya. "At least you look normal. Run-of-the-mill, even. None of that outlandish stuff for you." Then, at Maya's answer to the other witch, Iann finally remembered. "Oh - right - shit. A thing. You...ah...and Tuah. Right?" Iann licked butter off his thumb, and looked away, over Maya's shoulder and into the middle-distance. "Moving along at the usual Arjuna-pace with that, I see."

Ephram said before he thought better of it, "Ohhhhhhh yeah, you and Tuah used to be a thing! I forgot." He cleared his throat and said dryly to Iann's question, "I'm supposed to be queer and havin' a good time of it, Iann," before picking up the conversation with Maya. "You into all the sci-fi stuff too? Or is it gonna be a different sorter theme for the new place? I love theme stuff. It makes places stand out more to me. Like how there's those two shoe stores in Grieselle? I never remember the name of the one what just sells shoes. I only remember Rubber Sole because of how the salespeople dress like the Beatles."

Maya, not having the same hang up Iann did, was free to laugh at Ephram's reply. She laughed too as Iann referred to her look as run of the mill. "Ah, yes, what anybody's dying to hear that they look run of the mill," she teased. She was hardly offended though. It wasn't as if she'd especially put much effort into her look this morning. There were more important things on her mind. "Yep, Tuah and I are business partners," she said before adding to his second comment, "I don't mind how long it's taking. The whole endeavor still kind of freaks me out." To Ephram, she gave a shrug, "I do like my sci-fi, but I don't think we'll go that route this time around."

"Well to be fair, I look under-the-mill. The chaff that gets milled out and fed to....chickens," Iann said, satisfied that (in his mind anyway) they'd come full-circle. He was about to ask why it freaked Maya out, but then remembered her thing about being asked questions. So Iann nodded instead, and waited with considerable interest to hear more about her vision for this co-owned bakery. When she provided none (and again Iann knew better than to ask) he nodded once more. "Okay give me a pizza dough. I'm gonna make pizza tonight. And another slice - er, sample - of that zuchinni bread..." Iann got his wallet out. "Oh by the way, I found that nymph, Collette. I have to take down those signs."

"Well I'm sure you and Tuah are gonna come up with somethang real interesting between you." Ephram pried open one side of his pastry box to extract a cookie which he ate in two bites, giving Maya a thumbs-up at the flavour. But then he frowned at Iann when the man mentioned Collette, saying, "What was with that, anyhow? I know she din't show up a couple mornings for my birds -- which is fine, that ain't an issue -- but I din't realize she was missing. And you shoulda come filed a report with us at the station, Iann, come on now. Jes because you'n me don't get along it don't mean you need to bypass the help that the police could of given you."

Maya didn't provide many details because she simply didn't have them at the moment. There were so many decisions to make and without an actual location everything else was still kind of on hold. It wasn't something she minded talking about, but there just wasn't much set in stone yet. She nodded and pulled out a plastic wrapped pizza dough for Iann. She cut him another slice of bread, but didn't add that to the price she gave him. It was all for charity anyway. Maya handed over too another tab of butter. "Oh good," she said to the news that Iann had found Collette, "Is she alright?"

"Hell no, I wouldn't file a report. Cops, amirite? Gosh," Iann snorted and rolled his eyes at Maya, thumbing at Pettaline like 'get a load of this guy'. He took his dough and plopped it into his fannypack, waiting for Maya to tell him how much it was. "But no, she wasn't missing-missing. She just - well - it's complicated nymph stuff, but ah. I'm not sure if she's alright. She's alive and functional."

Ephram pointed at Iann's fannypack, noticing it for the first time when the man secured his pizza dough into it. "You're wearin' a fuckin' fanny pack in public and you tried to make fun of how *I* look? Jesus, Cardero." He shook his head. "I'm glad she's found. Is it like a Perl situation? How she was missing for a while but then when she came back she was all different and jumpy?" It would be a deeply sad thing if that were the case. Ephram was still gutted about Perl having to leave the Department.

Maya could understand why Iann wouldn't go to the cops. Especially if Collette wasn't 'missing-missing'. Maya had her own complicated history with law enforcement that had caused her to only go to them when she had no other choice. She gave Iann a 'what are you going to do' kind of shrug before telling him how much the pizza dough was. Her brow furrowed a little to hear that Collette was alive and functional, but not for sure alright. "Could you tell her I have that lavender fudge for her?" she asked. It wasn't much obviously, but maybe it would make the nymph feel a little better.

"These are all the fashion now! Ask the trend-setter here," Iann said, motioning to Maya first before handing her some cash. He pat his fannypack (which was currently sitting on his hip) in contentment. "I tried carrying around a satchel? Messenger bag? Whatever you want to call it, the purse for dudes who don't want to say they're carrying around a purse. But it kept getting lost or I forgot it places, or it got hooked onto things. It's bullshit. This little guy's never leaving me." When Maya mentioned lavender fudge, Iann had to bark a laugh, somewhat bitterly. "I will, sure. But is it Scottish lavender, little Iann."

Ephram didn't miss the little by-play between Iann and Maya when it came to the subject of police. It was jarring to him sometimes, how people seemed to assume that since he was the Sheriff here and now, it meant he was clueless as to what it was like on the other side of the law, but ... oh, well. He decided to take it as a sign that he was doing a good job, if he gave the impression that he'd rolled out of the womb wearing a badge. "I have a satchel. It's great."

Maya had to nod, "The fanny pack is making a comeback, especially with The Gays." She didn't miss the somewhat bitter quality to Iann's laugh. "Yep, as requested I made sure to get Scottish lavender, not that I really think it makes a difference," she paused, considered then added, "Although she is a nymph and can probably taste the difference."

"Fannypacks are Pride," Iann concluded. "Oh you better believe it makes a difference. An insurmountable difference that us mortals will never understand. Anyway, Collette's not living with me right now, so if you do see her, don't assume that I've told her about your fudge."

"I'm gonna keep right on with my satchel, if it's all the same to The Gays," Ephram snorted. "Collette ain't stayin' with you, what?" he asked Iann. "Where's she at? Is she doin' all right? What did you do to her?" It was an unfair assumption, of course, but considering the normally acrimonious relationship he had with Iann, Ephram automatically figured the human was the one to blame.

"No she moved out, she's at a motel. I suggested June's House," Iann offered, suddenly mild and even somewhat passive. "Since it's cheaper, cleaner, and overall better than a motel, so. She just has some things to figure out. And yeah, probably because of something - or things - that I did. Yeah. Can I get another 'sample' of that bread?"

"Basically," Maya agreed although to Ephram she added in a teasing tone, "I think The Council will be okay with that." She hadn't realized that since her return Collette hadn't been staying with Iann. With that new piece of information, she shook her head, "Oh never mind then. I thought you two were still living together. I can just tell her next time I see her." She listened quietly, taking another sip of her soda for Iann's explanation as to why Collette wasn't staying with him anymore. Unlike Ephram, she didn't assume Iann was completely at fault, even though he admitted it might be partially. "Which motel?" she had to ask, "Do you know?" Maya had to laugh when Iann asked for another sample of bread. "Sure," she joked, "Just know I'm considering feeding you as the charity this bread is going to."

Ephram recognized that particular flavour of resigned self-recrimination when he saw it -- he'd tasted it more than a few times himself -- and he felt faintly bad for having shoved Iann into that corner. "Sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "I shouldn't jump to conclusions when I don't know shit bout whatever you'ns are to each other." He didn't say anything about June's House, that being something of a sore spot for him personally. "So long as she's not missing anymore and she's doin' all right. I mean, she's some sorter ancient war nymph, right? Ain't like she's a wilting flower."

Iann shrugged. "Don't apologize, it's a reasonable conclusion," he said, giving Pettaline a wry look. "When someone's upset, must be Cardero who got them there, huh? Makes sense to me." Iann adjusted his baseball cap, then started the process once more of meticulously buttering his third slice of zucchini bread. "I don't know the motel name, no. She wouldn't tell me." He smirked back at Maya. "Ohhhh great. Pity-bread. The saddest part is, I'll take it." He took a huge bite, then made a muffled noise behind his teeth, "Vut now ah neef currffee."

Ephram said testily, "I'll apologize when I reckon it's warranted and whenever I damn well feel like it, Cardero! And no, it ain't no foregone conclusion that you's the blame all the time. We might not get along but shit, I know enough bout you to know that much." After all, Ephram's husband counted Iann as one of his closest (if not THE closest) friends of all time, and Freddie felt no compunctions about talking up Iann's better qualities to his less-than-enthused audience of one. Ephram might have groused, but he'd still listened to all those glowing reviews and taken them to heart. "Maya ain't sellin' coffee, nimrod." He looked at Maya, one eye narrowing as he confirmed, "--you ain't sellin' coffee, are you? How bout them soda pops? I'm feelin' a mite parched my own self come to think of it."

Maya watched the interaction between the two men, but didn't comment on it. "Okay," she said. She would have to ask Collette next time she saw the nymph, just to make sure it wasn't the same motel she'd stayed at when she first arrived in town. Although as Ephram had pointed out, Collette wasn't exactly incapable of taking care of herself. "The sign does say 100% of proceeds go to charity, you were warned," she joked back. She pointed down the way and told him, "There's coffee about three stalls down. Mostly iced drinks though I think."

Iann made a face. "Guh I hate cold coffee. I don't get the point." Most of the stalls here were set up for 100% charity, which amused Iann in one way. People trying to out-do each other with how 'woke' they were, as the kids liked to say. Iann liked it; because true altruism was, after all, partially selfish in order to be true. The feel-good feeling people got for being so damn generous was worth all the charity information signs that beamed 100% with rainbow pride. Win-win for everyone involved. "Okay I give up. Give me the bread. This charity will pay your charity for whatever's left of the loaf. It's delicious and addictive."

Iann blinked, shocked and a little unsure how to respond to Pettaline vociferous and rather pleasantly unexpected reply; and since Iann had no idea how to respond to bouts of sincerity - especially if it was meant to be good towards him - instead Iann grinned and changed the subject entirely. "Show me the Cinquefoil!" He looked at Maya. "So buddy has a Cinquefoil, and he's made it work!"

Maya gave Ephram an apologetic smile, "Sorry, this is my personal stash. But I know a couple of fairies are selling homemade sodas in the next aisle over." To Iann, she argued, "Well, I'd say cold coffee and iced coffee aren't the same, but that's kind of semantics. Someone's probably got hot coffee for you though." She handed over the bread without any further argument. Considering the whole event was for charity she wasn't at all concerned about the dollars she was missing out on. If everyone had a good time and they made some money for organizations that did good work then it was all good. It was her turn to blink though at Iann's excited words. "He has a what?" she asked.

Ephram likewise made a face at Iann's sudden and loud demand. "I'm sure Maya don't wanna be exposed to the sight of it," he demurred, returning a mirror of her apologetic smile before hissing at Iann, "--since it's on my god damned hip and I'll have to hike down my trousers some to show you."

"Yes, I hate cold coffee..which is what iced coffee is," Iann said in confusion, then remembered that Maya was a very exact person. So he added for her benefit, "I hate iced coffee." He handed over more money for the loaf (he didn't ask her this time; her prices were notoriously underselling and this was no exception, even for the 100% charity proceeds) and then Iann laughed aloud when Pettaline explained where the Cinquefoil was. "Oh shit, it's on your hip! Well never mind then, you can show me later, I want to take a photo of it for my records." He tried to explain to Maya without getting into too much detail about the demon. "It's this thing - it's like a - well it's..." Iann spun a hand, then made an annoyed sound and turned to Pettaline. "You explain!"

"I just mean that cold coffee seems like hot coffee that's been left out for too long and gone cold whereas iced coffee is still fresh," she explained although she knew it was still all rather semantic. She took his money although she hadn't asked for it. It didn't matter to her personally, but she was happy to take money for other people. She listened as the two men seemed to change their minds based on where this Cinquefoil was located on Ephram's body. Although it wasn't as if Maya hadn't seen a man's hip before. Seeing as they seemed to decide against it, she didn't comment on that though. Instead Maya listened as Iann decidedly didn't explain what it was. She turned to look at Ephram when Iann turned the duty of explaining over to him.

"I'll tell you what iced coffee is: it's cold. And I don't like cold coffee - whether it's been left out too long, or had some ice tossed into it to make it cold. It's still cold and gross. Here - hold this," he handed Maya back the bread and marched off to find a cup of coffee.

"Fair enough," Maya replied as Iann walked off in search of hot coffee.

Fortunately, finding plain drip coffee wasn't too difficult, and Iann returned with a cup, looking far less agitated. He also had a bottle of sarsaparilla beer. "Here, this is for Foghorn Leghorn," he said, handing the bottle to Ephram as he then took his half-bread back, tucking it into his elbow like a precious child.

"Uh," Ephram said, not at all convinced that Maya was terribly interested in hearing about the Cinquefoil, but since she'd turned her attention to him he figured he might as well. "It's this lil magical artefact what helps to integrate a demon with the person it's inhabiting. Which is ... me?" To be honest he couldn't recall if Maya knew about Anaxis, even. None of this might make any sense to her at all. "I dunno if you know, but yeah. I got a demon in me and now it's completely under my control. Thanks to the Cinquefoil." Which he wouldn't have minded showing Iann, even in public, but Ephram had no intention of forcing Maya to witness anything even close to the act of him showing skin. He accepted the sarsparilla gratefully when Iann handed it over, bolting down a third of it.

Maya had, in all honesty, only passing interest in what a Cinquefoil was. But Iann seemed excited about it, so it seemed worth hearing about. She'd heard, awhile ago now, about the demon inside of Ephram. She listened as he explained what exactly the thing was. Upon learning that it had allowed him to completely control Anaxis, she made a mental note to try and do some research on it later. Maya wasn't entirely sure what to say about it now though. It had to be a big deal for Ephram. She could only guess at what having a demon riding shotgun might be like. "Congratulations," she settled on although she wasn't happy with it, "I guess, that seems kind of like an understatement, considering."

Ephram ducked his head a little in acknowledgement. "It's awright," he said hastily, faint annoyance with Iann rising up again. Why in God's name had the man brought up the damned Cinquefoil and by extension Anaxis in front of Maya, who couldn't possibly give a shit one way or the other? Embarrassed as he usually got when talking about the demon in front of people who didn't know or care, he finished his drink and wagged the bottle at them both. "Gonna go find somewheres to recycle this," he mumbled, readjusting his pastry box in his grip before loping off towards one of the disposal stations set up periodically through the venue.

Iann mildly watched Pettaline leave, still a little fascinated by how different the witch looked. Had it been that long since he'd last spoke or seen Pettaline? The answer was yes; but also the change was remarkable enough to be not just a matter of time. Pettaline didn't just change in terms of the demonic control - although that was a huge thing. But it also belatedly occurred to Iann that the whole Pride thing was being truly celebrated and embraced by the witch, perhaps for the first time in his life. Iann tongued the inside of his cheek, thinking about the various changes he'd witnessed in people, recently. He looked over at Maya. "What were you again? A Lady of whatever? Servant girl? You seem quite recovered from all that. 'Seem' being the operative word, of course."

Maya watched Ephram go without saying anything since she wasn't sure if he was going to come back. But clearly he'd been made uncomfortable. She turned her attention to Iann as he asked her about that strange alternate reality they'd all ended up in. Her memories around it were mostly foggy, but she picked the general gist. "Both, I think," she answered, "And I mean, it wasn't so bad for me, I got bit by a snake and yelled at, it felt like a lot, but not so bad all things considered. What about you? Didn't you, like, die?"

"That's right! I was there when you were snake-bitten, you were saying such strange things. Well, strange for that world. Makes me wonder if maybe when the snake bit you, you reverted into this-Maya's modern mind...now that would be interesting." Iann licked his teeth, considering that possibility. "I still can't quite figure out what the hell that was all about, even. Why it happened. I mean I've been in this town long enough to know shit will happen, but I get antsy when there's no real rhyme or reason." Not that Iann had much time to contemplate. Between all the other work he'd thrown himself into with other people - and then Pride month on top of that - Iann barely had much time to himself at all. Which was exactly the way he liked it. "I totally died! My brother gave me a plague that made me eyeballs explode and my internal organs melt and my skin break out into pustules. It was terrible." And 'terrible' was an understatement. "Apparently, then Inquisitor Savin found and destroyed Miguel."

"Maybe," Maya replied, "Although, I was also pretty out of it. Whatever that sage dude gave me was some strong shit. But maybe high medieval Maya was the same as sober normal Maya." She understood what he meant about the lack of apparent reason being uncomfortable. "Yeah, I'd like to know why too. If there even is an answer," she agreed. "Shit, dude. Miguel killed you? How's that working out?" Maya asked. They couldn't exactly be blamed for their actions in that other version of Soapberry, but still having someone kill you seemed like it would strain the relationship.

"Ah, we worked it out. I personally thought it was pretty epic what he did, but Prince-me was really really sore about it. 'Prince-me'." Iann snorted. "If only I was talking about Purple Rain Prince, the only cool Prince to ever exist, ever."

Maya had to nod, "Sure, reasonable to be sore about someone murdering you." She laughed at his claim, but couldn't disagree with him. "Well I'm glad to be in a world where talking about a prince usually either means Prince or someone finally watched Game of Thrones. I would not have wanted to get stuck in that world."

"I guess..." Iann said doubtfully, as if he was personally questioning: was it reasonable to be sore about someone murdering him? Was it, really? Suddenly, Iann didn't feel too sure about that. "That's true. No flushable toilets, guhhhh. No showers. No anti-perspirant." He returned to the thought about soreness. "I wonder if Miguel's mad at Savin for destroying him?"

Maya wasn't entirely surprised that Iann's tone suggested that he doubted his princely self had a right to be sore about being murdered. She still thought it was reasonable, but she wasn't surprised that Iann might take a different, less traditional view. "Depending on the situation, I suppose it'd be reasonable too not to be sore about it. But seems like being murdered by someone would be as good a reason as any to be upset with them." She nodded, an expression of fairly enthusiastic agreement on her face when he listed just a few of the drawbacks of that world. "Don't know," she said, "You'd have to ask Miguel that."

Iann hadn't been thinking of his Prince-self so much as just...himself. "Oh yeah? What sort of situation are you thinking of?"

Maya shook her head, "I wasn't think of any specific situation. Just that I couldn't definitely say how a person might feel after getting murdered."

"Well I can definitely say how a person might feel after getting murdered..." Iann said, slightly gloomy as he thought about it. It wasn't even the first time, even; and perhaps that made it even more weird. But it was nothing he was going to bring up with Maya, and not while the day was sunny and bright and cheery. "Well..." Iann said, because by now he'd kind of run out of safe topics to broach with Maya. He looked hopeful that maybe she had something to comment on.

Miguel was enjoying this pride a lot more than the last one. Maybe the fact that he didn't have to put any of it together, didn't have to deal with dramatic drag queens or getting a heinous number of permits from the sheriff department. All he did was show up and eat the pretty colorful foods, and sniff at the pretty colorful drinks and wonder if they were actually edible. His ears caught his own name and he glanced around to see his tall dumb brother, who he made a beeline for, he careened into Iann, bumping shoulders with a thud. "Talking shit, 'mano?"He said it with a grin.

"Yeah, I've only almost been murdered a couple of times," Maya replied with an easy shrug, "I was pretty sore about it though." She shrugged, not exactly eager to go too much further down this path of conversation. She took another sip of her soda. From what she had gathered Iann wasn't a big fan of small talk for it's own sake, so she didn't want to ask him something just for the sake of it. She was about to ask if the Inn was having any events for Pride, out of genuine curiosity. But then Miguel appeared before she had a chance.

Dressed for the block party Alessa'd walked all the way there before she spotted the sheriff and turned 180 degrees and walked directly away. She was NOT risking her job just to go to a party. She walked or a while before coming to the town square where there were she headed for a baked goods stall. She stands on her toes to see around the people already there wondering how bakes goods could lead to the trailed off conversation of murder.

"Oh - looks like you got another customer, watch out this guy is very particular about heart-health so hide your croissants," Iann said, when Miguel popped up beside them. Iann was grinning though, teasing his younger brother. Another young woman stepped curiously towards the pastry display though, an actual legit customer (he didn't consider Miguel legit, he was just Miguel) and Iann helpfully said to her, "I recommend the zucchini bread. She's handing out free samples, so you could try it if you want."

Miguel flashed his grin at Maya then. "Ooh, I want free samples. And I'll buy a croissant because they're delicious and I'm not particular about heart health, nope, nu-uh, not me." He wanted to support the other witch in her business, sometimes it was hard to integrate magic with your job - but Maya had found a way to blend the things she liked, and Miguel thought it was interesting. It was also tasty.

"Unfortunately, Iann bought the last of the zucchini bread. I went for variety over quantity. But I can hook you up with a croissant," Maya said and handed one over on a napkin. She told him the price as well. "And you should probably let the person behind you through too," she added, gesturing to the person peeking over their shoulders.

Essie simply raises a hand in the air to be noticed from behind the two men. Responding to the first with a quick "I'm in it for something sweet actually, you got a recommendation for that sort of thing?" sharing her question with the woman behind the stall counter with a smile she hoped could be seen.

"I do not, but the baker will! She's that one right over there -" Iann said, pointing at Maya.

Maya laughed, "See, I'd recommend just about anything, but I did make all of it and I am trying to raise money here. So not sure I can be trusted." She sat up a little straighter, "What kind of stuff do you usually like?"

Miguel took his croissant and stepped aside so the next person could go, sticking his tongue out as his brother as he went. It was a good croissant, warm and fluffy and flaky. Miguel mentally kicked himself for not having Maya add chocolate to it. That would have been ideal.

Iann reached behind Maya and retrieved her bread knife. He flopped the half-loaf of zucchini bread on a wood counter space and carved off a slice, handing it to Miguel. "Here, try this now."

Alessa gaining full access to the spread on the table Alessa looks on with eyes like saucers at the variety. "Anything with fruit, anything with chocolate." she tells the other excitedly. "And I'll take three."

Maya smiled to see the newcomer's eyes light up when she looked at the table. To her that was at least half the point of baking anything to make people happy. "I've got raspberry sweet swirls that'll literally make you feel like dancing, Linzer cookies with huckleberry jam and no magic and then blueberry ice cream in the cooler that'll make you feel like you're seventeen again as far as fruit and well, what's in front of you as far as chocolate," she explained.

"Oh that reminds me, there's a fruit stall over there with local strawberries," Iann said, when the young woman mentioned fruit. "Apparently the strawberries are from this vampire's secret garden of enchanted heritage-strain berries. I want to try them. Apparently they taste like 'real' strawberries - you know, how they used to taste before mass production."

Miguel happily ate the bread and was surprised by the flavor. It did taste a bit like zucchini, but not in the way he had expected. He watched the person who had been behind him stare hungrily at all the confections Maya had made, he could related. He wanted to try a bit of everything. But then Iann was bringing up strawberries and... "¿Las fresas de herencia? ¿No mames?" He wanted to get his hands on those strawberries. "We gotta try that 'mano."

Alessa making a decision was tough but she made a quick one before her attention was torn reluctantly away from the confections towards a fruit stall. Staring off at the fruit stall she ordered "Three swirls if you have 'em and some of that ice cream maybe?" squinting across the way she asks "Is the 'real' taste supposed to be better or worse?" glancing back over her shoulder at the men and then over to the woman once again with a smile "Oh sorry, i would like them please." polite, very comically belated but still polite.

Maya gave a nod, "Sounds good." She started packing up the swirls and scooping out the ice cream while Iann and Miguel talked about strawberries. Like them she was curious what these pre-industrial ag strawberries might taste like. However Maya was stuck at the stall. Perhaps she could convince one of them to bring her back some. She shook her head at the young woman's apology. "Don't worry about it," Maya said before telling her the price of everything.

"Hell yeah," Iann grinned in pleasure, as if he and Miguel had just agreed to do something totally wild and spontaneous like slam back a bottle of tequila and then surf down a waterfall. But, well. Sometimes one just wanted to be wildly enthusiastic about strawberries. "If I could only eat one fruit for the rest of my life? It'd be berries," he proclaimed to Miguel, and then looked down at the piping voice of the small woman. "I think real taste should taste better. Like an actual strawberry taste which...who knows if any of us have ever tried." Iann tapped his fingers together in an 'oooh hoo hoo hoo' way. But before heading to the fruit stall, he said to the younger woman - "Who are you anyway? I haven't seen you around town, but then you are very small." (Iann was secretly pleased that he managed to work a Treebeard quote into his daily conversation).

"Woah woah woah!" Miguel held up his hand to stop his brother. "You can't say all berries that's way more than one fruit. I would choose mangoes, and if you can choose all berries then I choose all mangoes like South American mangoes plus Asian mangoes. That's my fruit." Miguel didn't think it would taste that good, but he wasn't going to tell Iann that. Mostly he just expected it to be less sweet. He looked over the young lady and smiled, he wanted to know who she was too.

"Okay maybe not..." Iann squinted, trying to think of a berry he'd reject. But he was coming up blank. "Okay you get all the mangoes, I'll get all the berries. Lopez can have all the boring fruit like citrus." Iann gave a mean laugh, but then shook his head ruefully. "No, no. I can't be mean to citrus, it's a damn good family. Not as good as berries, but."

Digging in her pockets for the correct change Alessa smiled brightly at the woman and thanked her "I can't wait to try it." she told her genuinely. Now she turned around fully to the two men. "Essie Caird." she introduced. "I'm particularly new to town you could say." she emphasised with a small flourish of her hands, holding out two of the swirls to the men. "And I find the best way to meet people is to buy them food, am I correct? And I can already tell they're delicious." she compliments the woman flashing her a bright smile also.

This Essie was certainly chipper and bright, and knew all the right things to say. Iann wouldn't eat the proffered pastry because he knew it would make him feel like dancing (although he hoped Miguel didn't know that, because it would be funny) but he took it anyway as a sign of good faith. "Well that's certainly a nice way to meet people. I guess I should extend the same courtesy. Here --" Iann extracted another slice off the zucchini bread, and offered it to Essie. "Right back atcha, Essie Caird. I promise my hands are clean. Just a little jammy from the swirl."

Offered bread in return Alessa takes it and smiles. "Thank you, can I have your name too or is it a one way thing?" She hadn't expected anything in return but she stood by her opinion that food shared was the best way to get on a persons good side. She takes a bite herself before offering the bread to her open purse, where her familiar poked his head out and took a nibble. She only allowed him one single small bite before she pulled it away.

"Oh shit where are my manners. I'm Iann, Iann Cardero. I run an Inn, over in Grieselle," he replied, and was about to offer his hand to shake, but then got distracted by the little head that poked out of Essie's purse. "Holy shit, is that a rat?" He didn't seem too alarmed, just curious - because the creature had to be a familiar of some sort. It looked intelligent. But was it a fairy familiar, or a witch familiar?

"And I'm Miguel... Reyes Ojeda," he awkwardly added his last names as Iann said his own. "It's a ferret," Miguel sounded excited, but he held it in so not to make the familiar feel awkward. Where was his head? He hadn't even shaken hands with Essie yet. "Hello to you too, little fella."

Faye wandered through the crowd, stopping here and there to talk to people she knew. She wasn't doing anything in particular, just mingling for the moment and taking in the atmosphere of the day. This was always a fun event, and it made Faye happy to see so many other people being happy. Spotting a few familiar faces, Faye made her way over with a small wave of greeting. "Am I the only one day drinkin'?" she grinned, taking a sip of her drink.

"What're you drinking, mamacita?" Iann asked, watching as Faye sauntered over. "You look like you're soaking up the festivities."

Alessa tried not to be offended by the rat comment, she reacts very calmly shaking her head, Finn on the other hand poked his head further out of her purse and fixes his beady eyes on Iann. When the other man introduces himself and identified correctly the species of her familiar she introduces the men to him "This is Finn." She grows quiet as a woman she doesn't know makes her way over, she doesn't want to be in their way at all so takes a step backwards to make room in front of the stall.

"Not sure," Faye said to Iann as she peered into her glass. "Some fairy was passin' 'em out over there." She nodded towards a vendors stall across the way. "Tastes like cherries." Noticing the unfamiliar woman, Faye waved. "Hey there. I'm Faye. Don't mind me," she smiled.

"Maya," Maya said by way of introducing herself, "And hello Finn." She knew better than to not treat a fairy's familiar like anything less than a full sentient being. She smiled at Faye's approach and replied, "I mean, if you bring me one I'll day drink with you."

"Give me a taste," Iann said, because he suddenly wanted to try everything here. He always had an appetite, but communal food was way more enjoyable. "Oh! A ferret," Iann said, and wasn't surprised at the creature's glare. That unimpressed look certainly confirmed to Iann that the ferret was no witch familiar. "Finn, the...fairy familiar, I'm guessing. Pleased to meet you, Finn," Iann gave the familiar a nod. He grinned at Essie. "Which makes you a fairy!"

Faye gave the little familiar a nod of hello as she let Iann have her drink. "Like mother like daughter," Faye grinned over at Maya. "Hang on..." She jogged back over to the fairy with the tray of drinks and came back with one for Maya and one for Iann if he liked the sample of hers. If not, Faye would just add it to her glass. "Here ya go." She handed Maya the cup. "I"m sorry I didn't catch your name," the witch said to the fairy with the ferret familiar.

Alessa raises a hand at each woman as they introduce themselves to her, she repeats her own introduction back when Faye returns from fetching more drink. "I'm Essie and this is Finn." she bounces her purse much to Finns chagrin. "Yeah, makes me a fairy." she confirms for Iann. "You're all very familiar with each other I don't mean to butt in or anything."

Iann took the wine, and handed it to Alessa. "Here - I hope you're legal enough to drink. If not then who cares. I actually gotta butt out - I suddenly remembered why I even had to emerge from Stonefruit in the first place. I'll be back later, hm? I can't forget the strawberries." He gave Alessa a nod and then gave Maya and Faye a wave of goodbye, at least for now.

"Nice to meet you Essie." Faye smiled at the bouncing ferret. "And you ain't botherin' nobody, honey. You're more than welcome to hang out. I like meetin' new people, and somethin' tells me you're new to town?"

"Nice to meet you too." Alessa responds waving Iann a goodbye as he heads out, adopting his glass as her own easily. "Very very new in town." she confirms. "Still waiting to see if I'm getting a job sort of new."

"Oh yeah? Where're you applyin' to?" Faye asked.

Essie shoots both women a little bit of an embarrassed glance, brushing hair behind her ear "Well I've only ever been a receptionist before so I started with those kinds of jobs. I've only had one interview so far. The sheriffs department. I think it went well but honestly it was unlike any interview I've ever done."

Maya gave Iann a wave as he headed out. She felt perfectly content to sip her fresh drink while Faye asked Essie about her being new in town. "Unlike any interview how?" she had to ask though.

"And I've only ever really been a bartender," Faye told Essie, giving her a smile. "Until I got here and they decided that I was qualified to be a teacher. Who knew?" she grinned. "

"Well the sheriff, seems very nice but much more lax than I'm used to. Said it clearly that it was more of a chat than anything, I didn't know quite what to do with it." Alessa admits to Maya. A lighter curious expression is aimed for Faye "What do you teach?"

Maya relaxed back into her chair almost immediately. Despite her trust in the current Sheriff's department, she'd heard too many stories to not ask about a statement like that. "Hopefully that's a good sign. I think they just promoted their receptionist, so they're probably in need," she said.

"Defense Against Dark Magic mostly," Faye said as she sipped her drink. "Though they're thinkin' of changin' the name to 'Defense Against Misused Magic.' To be more politically correct." Faye huffed. "As if I need people runnin' around make 'DAMM class' jokes."

"yeah hopefully, seemed like a really good job, I'd really like to work there but I guess it depends if my personality was alright. Got a little tense about it all at the time. But hey we'll see right?" Essie snorts at the abbreviation "That's a road to certain destruction that name change is."

"It definitely is," Faye said. "Hopefully they just leave it like it is."

A nudge from Finn leads Alessa to look at her watch and realize she had another interview in an hour. "Speaking of interviews I'd better go get ready for my next one. It was really nice to meet you both, I hope to see you around." and with a small wave she's jogging off quickly through the crowd.

When Ephram got back to the atronach block party, it was just in time for Danny to hand Addie back to him, making some sort of excuse about having to go that was so mired in Aussie-isms that Ephram only barely grasped what he was saying. But the fairy was making rapid tracks when Cassie rejoined them, and Ephram said, "Uh ... he had to go ... throw some shrimp on the barbie? I really got no idea what he was sayin'." Ephram indicated his now blueberry-coloured hair, saying, "I got this done while Danny was takin' care of Addie, ain't it neat?" He shifted the child from one arm to the other so that she could accept one of the huge gumballs from a passing ride attendant, saying, "Is there somethang awkward between you and Danny? He seemed mighty het up bout it. The other place, I mean."

Cassie blinked a little surprised, "Danny was looking after her?" It wasn't somethig she'd ever ask of the fairy anyways. They weren't overly close here anyways. But Addie looked perfectly content, especially since Ephram helped her get one of the large gumballs she was so keen on. "I like the blue-" She smiled slightly, "By the way," But the pull of her lips faltered when Ephram asked about Danny's mood. Cassie wasn't exactly surprised but...she'd only been gone for a few minutes. She ran a hand through her hair, "We might have been...um-" Cassie cleared her throat, "Comfortable with one another. And it's hard. Cause it's different here." She sighed heavily, "That's all."

Ephram looked sympathetic. "Awww, I'm sorry, Cassie," he said sincerely. "Reckon I got off lucky, all things considered -- no lasting awkwardness or memories of havin' killed people or been killed. It must be hard for you two, gettin' close there but not here. Memories and emotions that cain't quite be reconciled." Although Danny seemed to be taking it harder and on more of a personal level than Cassie, which was to be expected. The fairy was surprisingly fragile when it came to his emotions. "Come to think of it I did sorter leave 'im no choice when it came to lookin' after Addie for a few minutes, whoops. But she's a lil trooper, ain't you, darlin?" Addie was more concerned with her big yellow gumball than anything else, trying to figure out how to eat it when it was beach-ball sized. Ephram clucked and took her hand in his, pressing her fingers against the candy. "Jes think about makin' a lil hole in it," he urged the baby witch. "You can do that. I hear you's all sorts've talented when it comes to magic."

Cassie nodded slowly in agreement with Ephram. There wasn't really a more simple way to put it, and clearly with Danny still sore, no proper way to fix it either. "Yeah well," Cassie shrugged, "What can you do? I'm just trying to keep moving forward is all." She was glad when the attention was shifted back to Addie and watched with raised brows as Ephram tried to show the toddler how to eat her oversized treat. "I don't think a hole-" Cassie began, but was cut short when the gumball exploded into several pieces, some of the yellow chunks hitting those walking past. Cassie ducked slightly, with a cringe on her face but Addie broke into squeals of laughter, clapping her hands, "Boom, boom!" Before she reached for one of the gumball shards and stuck it into her mouth. Cassie reached out slightly, "Make sure she doesn't swallow that. Oh geez."

Ephram urged, "Chew chew chew!" to Addie, snagging a shard of gumball and shoving it in his own mouth to demonstrate with big exaggerated motions. "It's gum! You gotta -- hey, this stuff's really good, Cassie, you gotta try it." He laughed and blew a bubble, the gum swirling into different shades of yellow as Addie squealed gummily in delight.

Cassie watched in amusment as Ephram and Addie enjoyed the colorful, slightly enchanted bubblegum. At insistance, she took a chunk of the gumball, but slipped it into her pocket for later. "I'll chew it in a bit. There's gotta be some snacks with more substance we can try."

Ephram nodded enthusiastically. "The Green Zone! I skipped over it so's I could get my hair done in Blue, but there was tons of food there." He chewed his wad of gum to one side of his mouth like a cow, linking his free arm in Cassie's and steering her forth from Yellow to the next zone. Almost immediately, the air was flooded with all sorts of savoury scents, the Green Zone enchanted to be bigger once inside than its actual physical footprint and to contain the foodie aromas. Ephram immediately bought an ice cream bar covered in rainbow-coloured crunchy bits, explaining as he devoured half of it, "--appetizer."

Cassie followed Ephram as he guided her to the correct area with all the food stalls. The smells almost instantly got Cassie salivating, and when Ephram stopped to grab a rainbow popsicle she bent slightly, and fished the chewed gum out of Addie's mouth before tossing it in a nearby trash can. Before the toddler could put up much of a fuss, Cassie purchased a small cup of rainbow softserve and handed it over. She got a small spoon for the girl, but Addie went into the icecream hands first. "Sorry." Cassie sighed, taking a step back to grab handfuls of napkins. Her brows raised when she noticed another stall and pointed, "Is that chocolate dipped cheesecake?!"

Ephram only laughed at Addie's dive right into her softserve. "Don't even worry bout it," he assured Cassie. "Back home in Apple Fall I used to look after my cousin Lilybee's twins when they was just startin' to eat solid food and they'd insist on feedin' each other. Only neither of em was a dab hand with utensils so they'd use their hands and then when they got frustrated with that they'd jes sorter ... dump food on each other and lick it off." They'd reached the cheesecake stall by that point, which turned out to also serve salty flavours, so Ephram asked for chocolate-dipped for Cassie and blue cheese and pear for himself. "Ain't I fancy?" he boasted with a grin. "Freddie's opened up my palate from what all I grew up with. Although I still do eat pimento cheese whenever I get the chance, don't get me wrong."

"Dumping food?" Cassie repeated a little wearily, "Are you telling me that's what I have to look forward to with two?" She was contented though when she received her cheescake slice, and took a hefty bite carefully chewing the cold treat as she watched Ephram pick out his second snack. "Well, I'll say you surprised me." She commented on his expanded palette. "If you like that, have Freddie make you try a baked cranberry and brie log sometime." She grinned at the memory of the appetizer, "It's delicious."

"Cranberry and brie, will do. It sure sounds good. When we was makin' them cranberry and popcorn strands to decorate the tree at Christmas, Freddie got extra because he knew I'd eat em before they even made it up." Ephram chortled at the memory, then said, "Might not work that way with one older and one littler! Twins are weird, we all know that. Oh, shoot, Cassie--" Ephram stared at her with rounded eyes, the blue vivid under his blue hair and against the red arrow-stripe down the side of his face, "--there ain't no chance you're havin' twins, is there?"

His words were scandalized but from his tone it was obvious that Ephram thought this notion utterly amazing. "I mean I know we talked about you havin' multiple babies because of possible multiple fathers but I don't mean that this time I just mean normal twins! Well as normal as twins can be, since they ain't normal, they got them twin-languages and all."

Cassie looked at Ephram a little strange due to his fallen expression. She didn't know what was running through his mind exactly, but she didn't get why men always seemed to want more. "Lilo would like it I'm sure." She mentioned, her voice a little flat and dry, "But I'd need more than just a bigger pram. Try extra arms and a bigger house. To start with." The corner of her mouth upturned, showing Ephram she didn't take it too much to heart. She got a corndog snack along side Ephram, breaking off a few pieces for Addie. Both mother and daughter made a slight face, the mineral enhancements weren't something they were a fan of. When Ephram mentioned Iann though, Cassie pouted her lip slightly in thought, "What? Mmm...I think he mentioned Elena a while ago. I didn't realize she was still there, or that he invited a nymph after moving out of Stonefruit." It was slightly surprising, given what she knew about him and Ciara. "What? Are you jealous?" She laughed suddenly.

"All's I'm prepared to offer is the pram, woman." Ephram grinned, also intending to keep it light. He held out his hand for the rest of Cassie's ... cornrock? rockdog? ... thing, since he liked them fine. "Jealous? Naw, I ain't jealous. My livin' arrangements suit me right down to the ground, thank you, and neither Freddie nor Oliver's super keen on havin' extended house guests. Hell, I totted my own Daddy out when he was in town and asked to stay, heh, so I reckon I'm the same." He raised his eyebrows as he finished the last of the food and threw away the sticks, looking around for the next enticing item.

"Your dad was in town?" Cassie inquired. It was really the only thing that stuck out to her, but the news of Ephram kicking him to the curb, or just short of it seemed well fitted to, from the little she knew. She looked around with Eprham for their next tasting spot and started to head towards a cart that made fresh crepes. "Well, that mansion has tons of room. But I get it, wanting your own space. I'll just make sure the babysitting isn't extended." She snickered, "Although, I have to say Freddie is being very sweet about it."

"It was a while back! He wasn't here long, which is to be expected. The man's slicker'n an otter givin' birth in a vat of olive oil." Ephram perked up at the sight of crepes, requesting one filled with spinach and cheese, one with lemon and sugar, and one with ffluvofruit paste which the crepemaker assured him tasted like currant jelly. "Extended babysitting's so different though! You don't gotta make conversation and deal with any emotionally taxing stuff or worry bout whether or not having real loud graphic sex is gonna be an issue. Not that any of that sex is gonna take place near the baby, of course," he hastened to add with a shake of his head, telling Addie, "same for if you come over with your brother. You don't even know what that is and we aim to keep it that way."

Addie wanted her mother again, though, so Ephram set the little girl down on her feet so he could collect the crepes. "Freddie's being incredible. I know when he decided on this, he was doin' it for me, but I think he's really gettin' into it now, the idea of bein' uncles to lil Albie. I mean if nothin' else, it gives him the chance to shop for baby things, and Lord knows baby things are adorable."

"What did he want though?" Cassie asked. Parents like Ephram's father didn't just show up for a friendly hello. At the crepe stand Cassie ordered nutella and strawberries and cream filled crepes. Her sweet tooth had yet to be satisfied. She chuckled at Ephram's view on babysitting, "I suppose some of that's true." She was glad Ephram caught and corrected his own slightly questionable adult topics, though really he was safe. Addie didn't know anything, the only worry Cassie had was she might parrot it at the worst possible moment. "Baby stuff is the best to shop for." She agreed with a grin. "I'm glad you're all getting some fun out of it."

Ephram shrugged. "Harlan? He had some cockamamie story bout business in town, but I reckon he got antsy that Freddie rumbled him. I married a con man same as my Momma did, heh, only mine's reformed." He folded his lemon sugar crepe up and mowed it down in two bites with a satisfied hum. "Everthang's so tiny! And cute! And it gives Freddie the chance to--" Ephram stopped himself, and when he continued his voice was much more gentle. "His mom left him when he was very little, and his dad's sort've a D-I-C-K. Might be doin' him some good to spend time thinkin' on what might make a sweet lil' baby boy happy."

Cassie never thought of Ephram marrying Freddie as a mirror of his father, but of course Ephram would know better than anyone. "Well, as long as he didn't cause any trouble." She watched how Ephram ate his crepe without any utensils and attempted the same folding. Except it took her a few more bites, and the last one once again went down to Addie who was watching it intensely. Cassie smiled a bit sadly at the news of Freddie's parents. "It seems like most fathers are D-I-C-K's." She muttered, "I'm glad he's getting the chance. And I'm super lucky our tastes sort of align." Cassie smirked, "When it comes to fashion and decor anyways."

Ephram polished off most of his cheese and spinach crepe, saving the last morsel for Addie as well. "You two really do have the same tastes in baby stuff, it's sorter uncanny," he chuckled. "I mean, you don't really have the same dress sense -- he's more glitzy -- but I suppose dressing rooms ain't the same as dressing your body, huh?"

Cassie nodded, "No that's fair. I forgot he has a mansion to decorate." Cassie laughed, watching as Addie happily took the pieces of crepe from the adults and took nibbles back and forth from savory to sweet. "Yum, yum!" Cassie folded her arms for a moment on her belly, "But he does have good taste in more traditional pieces too. That's all I meant."

Ephram sampled his ffluvofruit paste crepe, opening and closing his mouth a few times to try and figure out if he liked it or not. Addie clamoured for some so he pinched off a bit for her, in case she didn't care for it, and said, "His major concern was if Albie would need a bunch'a big brightly coloured plastic things, heh. But tell you the truth, I ain't so much for those neither. I like baby stuff what's handmade and looks like your family could of made it for you, not the latest Duplo toys." Ephram grinned, scrunching his nose. "One of the very few things I'm a snob about."

"Ah right, well the wood sheep should have been a sign of that." Cassie spoke, watching Addie hesitantly try Ephram's second crepe with him before tossing it on the ground and sticking out her tongue. "So that's a no then?" Cassie asked, bending down to discard the food properly, "No!" Addie repeated. "You don't think Albie is too close to Addie hmm?" Cassie inquired, since Ephram and Freddie clearly favored that nickname and made it known, "I just didn't want to confuse them down the line. You know, the similarity really was not on purpose." She grinned somewat guilty.

Ephram made a face. "Naaaaaw," he said. "Plenty of kids have similar names when their folks wanna have em in like, a theme or a matched set or whatever. Besides, if we's the only ones callin' him Albie, he'll get used to bein' somethang else at home, right? You'ns gonna call him Albert proper? Or Mateo? I like Mateo, it sounds like a smart kid name."

Cassie let out a loud laugh, "Matched set? Oh my god..." Not that Cassie doubted the idea at all. She shrugged, "I was thinking Bertie. But Albie is good too. It really just depends what seems to fit him best. Albert is for when he is in trouble. You know how that is." Her smile still lingered as she pulled Addie a little bit closer and wiped some of the food and crepe leftover from her mouth. "And Albert doesn't sound smart? What about Einstein? Or Prince Albert." She squinted playfully at Ephram then, "You're funny."

"Bertie at home and Albie with his uncles! I used to get my full complete includin' the middle name called when I was in trouble seein' as I din't have no shorter version of my name. Only Harlan called me Effie now and again but it wasn't ... he wasn't meaning it in a nice way, really." Ephram rolled his eyes and unconsciously touched his floofy blue hair, the feathers on his shoulders. "Anyhow. Einstein I'll give you, but Prince Albert? I'm fair sure most folks think of the genital piercing when they hear that, not no actual prince." He grinned at Cassie's teasing comment. "I'm funny 'cause Ephram sounds like a funny kid name."

"I just hope he doesn't have an identity crisis at a year old." Cassie commented, "My parents just liked calling me by full name all proper like. Big surprise right?" She rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Thanks Ephram. For that. I think when looking at a baby you might be the only one who'll think of a genital piercing." Her gaze was blunt and irritated, "Really." She flicked one of the feathers on his shoulders, "I'd say your funny past the name. But at least it makes you unique."

"Listen, if Southern folks can be fine havin' roundabout five separate names each, Albie's gonna rock the double name with no problems." Ephram laughed at Cassie's confession, saying, "Considering I call you Miss Germaine in my head half the time? Nope, no surprise." He looked innocent and wounded, though, when she scolded him about mentioning piercing. "What? It ain't my fault nobody knows no more bout the human prince and just know the piercing now! I din't make it up!"

"Miss Germaine is too formal." Cassie said, fiegning a sort of shock that Ephram continued to use the title. In reality, he still made up names for her all the time. "What was the last thing you called me? Miss Britchypants or something?" As Ephram tried to defend his reasoning though, she wasn't exactly convinced. "You can't say nobody knows about the proper Prince Albert. He was a Queen Consort of England, supported sciences and arts during the 1800s. You're telling me Freddie never rambles off about royalty?" Cassie would find that even harder to believe.

"Miss Germaine is exactly formal enough for the likes of you." When Cassie tried to remember the last thing he'd called her, Ephram crowed and said, "Missy Britches! For when you's being insufferably hoity-toity, like right now." He looked shocked at Cassie's protests concerning the dignity and reputations of royalty, putting one hand to his chest. "Are you kidding? Freddie's English! Don't nobody give less of a shit about British monarchs and the throne than English folks. He'd probly say that havin' a--" Ephram lowered his voice so Addie couldn't hear, "--dick piercing named after him is a bigger honour than this ol' Prince Albert deserved."

"Whatever." Cassie waved off Ephram's nickname again trying to fight back her amused little grin. She looked at him exasperated then though, placing a hand on her hip, "I know Freddie is English." Her expression pulled into uncertainty when Ephram insisted the fairy wouldn't give two figs about monarchs. Sure, he knew Freddie better but it still just seemed wrong. Maybe if Freddie was a disgruntled peasant he wouldn't care, but he clearly had come from some sort of class distinction. She wondered if this was just her alternate reality brain fogging in and shook her head to try and clear it away. "Either way. He'd still know who Prince Albert was." Cassie said, sticking her tongue out stubbornly.

Ephram responded by raising his nose loftily. "And I'm tellin' you -- he'd know, but he'd have as much reverence for Prince Albert as he does for Colonel Mustard." He considered for a moment. "Maybe less. He knows I really like eating mustard. Right out of the bottle sometimes."

Cassie looked at Ephram incredulous, trying not to break into giggles at him, "What Colonel Mustard? That's a board game character!" Her brow creased for a moment, "Do you mean Colonel Custard?" She made another face at the witch's proclomation towards the yellow condiment, "Yeah, I remember. Definetly worse than how you used to go through peanut butter." She teased lightly.

Ephram looked incredulous now. "Colonel Custard? Girl, are you talkin' bout General Custer?" He guffawed heartily, slapping his knee. "Man, we's at all sorts of cross-purposes now. I did mean the character from Clue! That's my point, Freddie's got just about as much respect for him as for real life Prince Albert! Hell, if /I/ got a Prince Albert, he'd be waaaaay more invested in bending knee to that." Ephram smirked for a while, then snickered at Cassie's remembering his eating habits. "Only on account of I'd eat peanut butter out of the house too," he said. "So it seemed like I wasn't havin' as much of it. But you din't know the extent of my peanut butter eating habits, Cassie." Ephram shook his head sadly. "I had a problem."

"Colonel Custard is a better name." Cassie said, though at the correction she couldn't help but laugh at herself underneath her own defense. "He was the worst anyways, so who cares. Just don't tell my son he's named aftera genital piercing. He isn't." She looked at Ephram seriosly then, since he seemed to take peanut butter consumption so grimly, "Does Freddie know the extent of the problem? I can't beleive he introduces you to delicacies like blue cheese and pears and you still eat condiments and spreads right out of the jar." She smiled some, "The only thing that should be allowed with is chocolate. Or nutella." Cassie couldn't rightly tease Ephram without bringing up a few of her own discretions.

"I cain't argue with you there. I'd wanna be called Colonel Custard, for sure." Ephram laughed at Cassie's wholesale dismissal of Custer as being a shitheel, promising, "My lips are sealed on the subject of exciting dong piercings, you have my word. Lil Albie's gonna be told that you named him after the wide wingspan of the mighty albatross. Or this weird English kids' cartoon show where the main boy was named Albie. Not a single body modification in sight." When she moved onto the very serious matter of the peanut butter, though, Ephram matched her tone.

"Oh, he knows. Why d'you think he tries to distract me with stuff like moraba havij and rillettes and guava cheese? Although I reckon there's two reasons he hasn't cracked down directly on peanut butter. One, it keeps me from eating pimento cheese. And two, I like makin' fluffernutters and he's secretly a fiend for marshmallow fluff." Ephram gave a firm nod, tapping the side of his nose. "And you, Missy Britches, are a public menace when it comes to nutella. If I knew you liked it so much I would of eaten a lot more of it when we was livin' together." The wolfish grin he gave Cassie following this statement left no confusion as to what sort of salacious activities he was hinting at.

Cassie frowned, "What weird English kid's show?" She looked on impressed though as Ephram rattled off the names of food that she didn't recognize by title alone. "At least he's educating you." Cassie pointed out the bright side light heartedly to him, giving him a nudge on his shoulder. "Oh, ho, ho. Your loss Ephram Pettaline. But I think you know to pay closer attention to your partners now." She laughed, rolling her eyes and biting the inside of her cheek at Ephram's glinting smile.

#cassiegermaine #thisdaringdanny #ianncardero #mayaparker #sbs pride 2019

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draw-you-coward · 5 years

Text

(some violence, killing, an offhand comment abt a bj)

ao3

“Gentlemen,” Thancred says to empty air, “How may I be of service?”

The heavy footsteps behind him come to a stop. Thancred allows himself a small, private smile before smoothing his features and spinning around on his heel.

The thugs don’t seem terribly intimidated by his hearing, nor his graceful footwork. One of the pair crosses his arms, shifting his weight. Thancred shrugs a knife down his sleeve until he can feel the comforting weight of the handle resting against his palm.

“I bet you felt mighty brave,” one of them mocks, advancing, “Telling us off in there.”

Thancred's gaze flicks to the right, at the tavern he had just left. “Not really,” he admits airily. “The lovely lady did not wish to be… plagued by your boorish company, and I didn’t think it was in your rights to argue against that.”

This earns him a laugh. “Your fancy words ain’t going to help you here,” the one who hasn’t spoken yet remarks, advancing. “Neither is anyone else.”

The other one moves to Thancred's right, cutting him off. Thancred licks his lips and smiles, turning to face both of them. The tavern is behind him, now.

“Gentlemen.” He spreads his hands. “Although I am touched you missed me enough to follow me, surely we can agree to part ways peacefully?”

“Oh, so now you don’t want a fight?” They keep walking forwards. Thancred steps back, feels his heel touch the cold stone of the tavern’s exterior wall. “You seemed very eager to pick one ten minutes ago.”

“True colours of a coward, eh?” the one on the left says. “I’d reckon the only reason you said anything earlier was to get your prick sucked by the grateful lady.”

They both laugh, the heavy mockery in their voices thickening the air. Thancred raises an eyebrow as he shrugs another knife down his sleeve, forcibly casual.

“Jealous of my innate charm, are we?” he challenges. “Well, if all you wanted was for me to suck yours, you could have asked nicely.”

That earns him a sudden furious growl, and he ducks down just in time to avoid a swing that would have knocked his head off his shoulders. Not in time to avoid the kick aimed at his stomach, however, and although it only catches him in the knees, he drops the ground with a pained grunt.

He catches himself with one arm and throws out the other, sending his knives spinning at a regrettably awkward angle. He must have hit something solid, however, because when he rolls to avoid another blow and straightens into a crouch, he sees one of the thugs curled up on the ground.

A large cutlass glints as it arcs towards Thancred’s neck, and he parries it with the blade at his belt, drawn by quick fingers. He slices the man’s stomach open, stepping away as he gurgles and falls to his knees.

There is a gunshot, startlingly loud. Thancred��s head whips towards the other thug as a chunk of wood breaks off and falls from the tavern’s roof.

A miqo’te woman is standing astride the fallen man. Thancred watches as she kicks his pistol away before bringing her heel down on his neck, quick and vicious. He hears a dull snap, and the man’s head goes unnaturally limp.

“I suppose it is too late to simply wait for the authorities to apprehend them,” Thancred comments wryly, his reflexive sarcasm functioning even as the rest of his brain tries to puzzle out the situation. Who is she? Why did she step in to help him, since she appears unarmed? Why hadn’t Thancred noticed her?

The woman looks up at his words. She steps down from the body and faces him, quickly taking him in. Thancred does the same, curious.

There are wrinkles by her eyes and mouth, but her gaze is piercing and spry. The end of her hair is pulled into a loose black braid, slung over her shoulder in a miqo’tian style typical of those who dwell in the desert. There is… something about her eyes that is odd, but Thancred cannot tell in the dull light of dusk.

She smiles, then, and the oddness manifests in the form of familiarity. How strange—Thancred does not recall ever meeting her. But he meets a lot of people, as the life of a Scion is, at times, a social one. Well, the way he does it, at any rate. He doubts, say, Urianger spends much time with anyone at a tavern, let alone complete strangers.

“You could always try,” she replies, walking towards him. “I would love to watch from a distance and see how it goes.”

Her voice is moderately accented, and it solidifies Thancred’s theory about her being from the desert. He has only heard such a cadence from the rarely-seen miqo’te that dwell in the Sagolii—Ikael’s people, actually, although the fellow himself has mostly worn his own accent down.

They are in Thanalan, so it makes sense, but it is odd to see a lone miqo’te out in a tavern, away from their tribe. What is she doing here?

Thancred bows, not wanting to forfeit his manners in the place of rude curiosity. “I doubt it will end without me getting a stern talking-to,” he says. “In any case, I must thank you for aiding me, my lady. I am called Thancred, and I am at your service.”

He straightens up in time to catch her amused smile. She replies, “You did not seem to need the help, Thancred, but you are welcome. I am called…”

There is a short, insincere beat.

“M’aev,” she finishes easily. It is a lie, but a smooth one. Thancred politely does not point out that he is quite sure the M tribe is Ala Mhigan. What does the average hyur know about miqo’te, anyhow? He would be a hypocrite to disallow her her secrets.

Thancred takes her hand—rough, tight brown skin—and brushes his lips over it. “I must thank you regardless, M’aev,” he states. “Anything can go wrong in a fight.”

A twinkle of amusement dances in her eyes. She pulls her hand back, then briefly touches her fingertips to his cheek, idly tactile. “Then it was bold of you to stand your ground,” she says. “I noticed you earlier, in the tavern. Getting between that girl and these,” she curls her lip up at the thugs’ motionless bodies, “… ruffians.”

Thancred bows. “A gentleman does as he must.”

“Of course, dear.” She pats his cheek in an almost maternal fashion. “Are you injured?”

Thancred shakes his head. “Not more than a little bruised, he says. “We should get going before anyone notices us.”

He glances at the tavern’s windows. “Not to rush a lovely conversation with a lovely lady,” he adds out of persistent habit, “but it is only a matter of time.”

M’aev’s lips quirk up before straightening. “Of course.” She gestures to him, then begins to walk away. “I set up camp not too far from here. No inquiring eyes will go searching there.”

Except for Thancred's. He trots up to her, following with a quiet tread. Her stride is quick, but confident. Curiouser and curiouser.

“Protecting the innocent and those who cannot defend themselves,” he comments as they walk, “is what me and mine do. Our organization, that is.”

She raises an eyebrow without look at him, and ducks under a low-hanging branch. “Oh?”

“We are the Scions of the Seventh Dawn,” Thancred tells her as he follows suit. “And I find myself thinking that your graceful and deadly self would be a good addition to our numbers, if you so wish.”

This time she outright laughs. “Oh, so that is the reason for the excessive flattery, is it?” she asks. She sounds amused, thankfully, and not offended. “I am sorry, young Thancred, but I am not quite the energetic and hopeful adventurer to whom joining a supposedly secret organization would seem like an appealing idea. I appreciate the offer, however.”

He nods, easily acknowledging the rejection. “I did not hold out much hope for it to be accepted,” he admits with a smile. “But I am supposed to try nevertheless. I reckon telling you that we house the newly-acclaimed Warrior of Light would not sweeten the pot?”

She pauses. Thancred pauses as well, watching her carefully. And then M’aev lifts her hand and points to a hill.

“There is my camp,” she says simply.

They settle down as comfortably as they can. There is a firepit already set up; Thancred watches as M’aev waves a hand over it ignite it. Curiouserer, he thinks as the conjured flame dances in her eyes. Is that a word?

“I know about you.” She speaks up. Thancred glances at her, readying himself for antagonism, but he sees only calmness in her gaze.

“Of you Scions and your Warrior of Light,” M’aev continues, smiling softly. “Your very secret headquarters are in Vesper Bay, are they not? Where there is no aetheryte.”

Her eyes are shrewd. Thancred breathes out a laugh, stretching his neck before lightly shaking his head.

“You seem to know a great deal more about me, my lady, than I know about you,” he ventures. And this is not something he would usually bring up, but… “In my way of business, such a thing is odd.”

M’aev begins to undo her braid, fluid and efficient. “Of course you are,” she murmurs, as a reply to what he has not said. “Charming and handsome lad like you? What else would they use you for?”

And there is the interesting commentary Thancred had been hoping for.

“Charming and handsome? My dear lady, you flatter me.” He ducks his head in a semi-serious bow. M’aev lets out a light laugh.

“So did they use you to recruit—the Warrior of Light, then?” Her hesitation is barely there; such a fleeting thing… but Thancred notices it. “From what I have heard of him, he does not seem like the rough and tumble adventurer type either. But someone like you could have convinced him, I would imagine.”

Thancred raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Are we a Warrior of Light fan?” he asks with a wink. “I should tell him I caught another one; he will go red and perhaps faint from the attention.”

She laughs again, soft but long. Thancred gets the oddest feeling that he is missing something.

“Is that so?” she says. “He shies from it, then?”

There is… something. The tone of her voice. The oddest little upturn to the corner of her mouth, the strange softness in her eyes. Thancred dwells on it for a moment… and then sighs inwardly. Of course Ikael would still have that effect on a complete stranger who had never met him.

Thancred grins, a spark of remembered familiarity emerging as the opportunity to tease his (admittedly absent) friend presents itself. “He really is,” he says. “All of that attention from all of those beautiful ladies is wasted on him! He actually did faint, once; turned red as a rolanberry and before we knew it…”

He pops his lips, imitating Ikael swooning and falling to the ground in perhaps an overly-gratuitous fashion. M’aev seems delighted, however, and Thancred is rewarded with another laugh. He joins in, chuckling at the memory.

“The poor dear.” M’aev presses her lips together. “Ah, I am sure the flood of attention will die down in a few moons.”

“Ikael would be relieved to hear you say that.” Thancred pokes at the fire. When he doesn’t get a response after a minute, he glances back at M’aev.

She is focused intently on the flames. Thancred drops his stick, and her gaze flicks back up to his. Her expression relaxes.

“Ikael… Jelaar?” she pronounces carefully, curiosity edging her tone. “That is what he is called, yeah?”

Thancred nods. “Almost,” he says. She had put the emphasis on the wrong syllable in “Jelaar”. “Jelaar.”

She tilts her head. For a second, that strange familiarity flickers back, and it gives Thancred pause. M’aev’s chin lifts upwards incrementally, and she—for an instant Thancred is sure she sees something in his face, she knows—she—

—turns away, running her fingers through her unbraided hair and shaking her head to allow it to settle naturally. It falls as a thick black curtain, blocking her face from Thancred's view. He looks away.

“Do you have a linkpearl?” he finds himself saying after a few minutes, when the silence feels as if it is just about to burst.

M’aev shakes her head, scattering it. Thancred is already digging through his things.

“Here,” he says, holding out the extra he keeps for new recruits. M’aev takes it, looking it over curiously. “You can contact me with it. In case you ever find something you think we should see… or change your mind about not wanting to join.”

He adds a wink for good measure. He bites back his words about her contacting him if she is ever in danger; somehow, he doubts she would.

She smiles, dipping her head graciously. “Thank you, my dear,” she says. “I appreciate it, although I have nothing to give in return.”

He smiles back and shakes his head. “The pleasure of your company for an evening was enough,” he says. His smile turns into a grin at her ensuing raised eyebrow and flat look. Too far, then. “I only mean the conversation, of course! Ah, you remind me of a friend of mine…”

She gets up, moving away from the firepit to shake out a sleeping roll. “This is my extra,” she calls over her shoulder. “Feel free to stay here if you have nowhere to rest for the night. You will not have to worry about keeping watch.”

She makes to duck into the small tent set up a few fulms away, but pauses. “Goodnight, Thancred,” she says quietly. “And goodbye.”

The farewell seems oddly final.

She disappears into her tent. Thancred keeps looking as the flap closes and the night goes still. Her comment about not keeping watch intrigues him; she must have warded the grounds somehow. Not an easy task unless one is at least proficient in the arcane.

Thancred scoffs at himself, shaking his head. Some part of him recognizes that had she been so inclined, this would qualify as a missed opportunity for quite an interesting new Scion. And yet…

He puts out the fire with splayed fingers and a willpower that is not as strong as others’ could be, but still sufficient. Then he crawls over to her sleeping roll and lies on it, connecting the stars in the sky into familiar shapes. He has a feeling this will be gone in the morning: firepit, tent, and miqo’te all. Perhaps even her bedroll. The entire encounter, vanishing without a trace of its existence.

Thancred closes his eyes and goes to sleep.

He is right.

~*~

#thancred #i'jela #writing #drabble #Yes that's Her

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lykaonimagines · 6 years

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Almost Lover - Loki x Reader (Part 3 Alternative Ending 1)

This is the first ending for Almost Lover! This ending is with Loki. If you’d prefer to read the ending with Thor x Reader instead or as well, click below. Thank you everyone for following this impromptu mini series and @islaylivesinshire for the request 😊

I also made a Spotify list for the songs I used lyrics from/inspiration for each part and a few more that fit as well for anyone interested right here.

Thor x Reader Ending

Paring: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3,808

Part 3 Description: A millennia has passed since Y/N left, and Loki finds himself finally in front of her once again.

Requested by: @islaylivesinshire 💚

Song For This Part: Whatever It Takes - Lifehouse

Warnings: This does mention Infinity War as something that happened 1,000 years ago, however I changed it almost completely from the movie and made up my own Avengers 4, so this shouldn’t be a spoiler.

Masterlist

(not my gif)

Finding himself standing in a field of grass and grazing animals, Loki questions if he’s at the right location, until he sees a welcoming sign for the town near the road. Looking toward the buildings in the distance, he sets off lost in his thoughts.

Taking in the sights as he walks, he’s surprised such a town still exists. One-thousand and forty-three years after the battle with Thanos, technology in Midgard had drastically evolved. Coming up with numerous more-efficient ways to provide resources for the growing populations, and effectively use the space they had, many of these small towns had been phased out in the wake.

He’d spent three generations in Stark tower, becoming a pillar of the Avengers team. As each member he’d grown to call a friend aged and eventually passed, the younger team grew and looked onto him as the eldest member. The battle in New York seemingly a distant memory few cared to remember, he fought along side the three different teams over three-hundred years, before deciding to join his brother in New Asgard he’d built in Norway. Tony Stark had originally bought all the land he could in forests in the country, and given the ownership to Thor. In the millennia that passed, they’d created a new kingdom they ruled together, and kept relations with Midgardian countries that grew used to the idea of their people.

Loki had often found himself out traveling Midgard on his own, taking in the sights and discovering the planet they now called home. Occasionally he’d still drop by the now very different New York City to check in on the current generation of heroes, and occasionally lend a hand where needed.

Losing Y/N from his life had caused Loki to take another look at his life, and he spent the last thousand years trying to be the man he felt she saw in him. He’d begun letting more people close to him, but never had another lover caught his eye. The regret he felt from how he treated Y/N, and his tirade of women afterwards still carried with him. Strangely, he found the love he had for her growing over the years. He’d hoped and thought the feelings would fade the longer they were apart, but with each passing century he realized exactly how much she did for him and how much she’d meant to the oblivious younger version of himself.

He had now hit a point where he’d lived without her nearly as long as he’d had her in his life, and the profound effect she still had over him surprised him. But not a day went by that he even thought of removing the small braided leather bracelet that once belonged to her from his wrist. It was all he still had as proof she was ever there, and not just a ghost of a memory from long ago.

The small accessory was made by Y/N when they were but teenagers. Small leather strips dyed black, with their initials stamped in and filled with gold on the clasp. She’d made him a similar one at the time, but over the years he’d lost it. Cleaning up Y/N’s room after she left Stark tower he’d happened to stumble upon hers, and hadn’t removed it from his wrist since.

Looking down, he pulls a small battered piece of paper from his pocket that his brother had handed him before insisting he go to this location. Thor had scribbled an old address, one Loki wasn’t sure still existed in this small town, down and told him to visit on his next trip out of New Asgard. He’d tried to get an answer as to why he should, but his brother just gave him a knowing smile, and insisted he’d love this town.

Thus far, he was confused as to why Thor thought he’d enjoy it here. Unless his brother thought he had a passion for old Midgardian agriculture and small town life, not much else seemed to be going on.

Heading further into the town, he looked from window to window, looking at each number on their doors as he grew closer to the address on his paper. It strikes him as he walks, how friendly all the people seem to be. Bright smiles aimed his way, small waves and nods as people passed.

One young girl stops him mid stride, “Are you looking for something in particular sir? I’ve never seen you around here before.”

He contemplates for a moment before holding the paper up for her to see, “I’m looking for this address, it’s quite old so I’m not certain it’s still even here.”

Immediately the girl’s face lights up as she reads the address, “Oh yes definitely! That is one of my favorites places to visit. Come on, I’ll take you there it’s not far!”

She grabs his arm and takes off excitedly in a new direction, Loki speeding up to keep up with the almost running girl.

“What’s your name?” She calls over her shoulder. “I’m Rose.”

“Pleasure,” he nods, looking at the homes they’re passing. “I’m Loki.”

“Loki?” She hums quietly. “I know that name.”

He chuckles slightly, “It would appear Midgardians enjoy their tales of the God of Mischief Loki.”

“You say that like you aren’t him,” she grins back as they get closer to a large house on the outskirts of the town.

His smile drops quickly, “You believe me to be him?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time a God showed up here,” she responds rolling her eyes.

“What do you mean-“ he tries to ask, before the sight in front of him takes away his words.

There sits Y/N in the middle of the yard, her Y/H/C and loose Midgardian clothing blowing in the wind. Her eyes closed, she seemed oblivious to the world, and his presence as he stops dead in his tracks.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, all the feelings he’d suppressed for years bubbling at the surface now that she sits not fifty feet away. And she glowed. “Her light is back.”

Her face seems to have barely aged, but the glow radiating from her is impossible to look away from, a glow he hadn’t seen since they were young.

He can feel the smile fading from his face as a small child comes running up to her, climbing into her lap and vying for her attention.

“Come on!” Rose demands tugging on Loki’s arm. “She’s the sweetest lady ever I swear, she won’t bite.”

“I- give me a moment, I’ll be right there,” he says softly pulling his arm from her grasp.

She rolls her eyes before sprinting across the yard to tackle Y/N from behind, a sequel of delight on her lips.

He watches on as Y/N’s bright smile graces her features, and she cradles the child with one arm, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and pats the arm Rose has around her from behind. His mind spins, and he feels like he’s going to be sick as he comes to terms with that she has a family.

“She’s moved on, she’s happy,” he mutters to himself sadly. He watches as a man exits the house, and looks down at the three fondly. His chest tightens further at the sight, and he contemplates just running altogether. “No good can come from me interfering here. I’ll just ruin what she got away from me to build.”

Before he has the chance to make up his mind, he sees Rose whisper in Y/N’s ear, and her brilliant Y/E/C eyes look straight up into his own, holding his gaze intently. The smile on her face seems to grow as she stands while still holding the child, and gestures for him to get closer.

Sighing, he carefully makes his way over, her eyes holding his the whole way.

“Loki Odinson,” she calls out in awe as he gets into earshot.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he replies, his own smile coming back the closer he gets.

“I wondered when I would see you again,” she replies reaching out to grab his hand with her free one. “But what are you doing here of all places?”

“Thor sent me,” he says softly. “Told me there was this small town I just had to see. I was unaware you were here, or of your… situation. I’m sorry to intrude. I would have left before you saw me.”

Y/N eyebrows furrow and she frowns at his words, “My situation?”

“Married and with child,” he forces himself to say, his eyes flickering to the child on her hip, the tightness in his chest uncomfortably noticeable.

Y/N’s laughter quickly reaches his ears, the sound he hadn’t heard in so long once again bringing a smile to his lips.

“Loki Loki Loki,”she grins and shakes her head. She releases his hand before turning toward her home, “Thank you for the quick repair Jackson.”

“No problem Miss Y/N,” the man replies walking down the steps and over to them. “Thanks for looking after Carter, he loves coming over here.”

“Anytime,” she smiles back, “He’s the sweetest little boy. Give Grace my love.”

“You got it,” he responds taking the child from her arms. “I’m sure she’ll be over sometime this week to visit anyhow.”

“I look forward to it, have a good day,” she responds before looking over to Rose and patting her on the shoulder. “Dear would it be alright if we spent some time together tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Rose responds jumping up from the grass. “Have a good time with Mr. Loki over there.”

After her yard has been vacated of guests, Y/N takes a very confused Loki by the hand and leads him into her home. “Tea?”

“I- yes that would be lovely,” he replies shakily before sitting down on a long couch. His gaze flickers around the room at the various thing she’s collected and put together over the years. Looking at the fireplace next to him, he runs his fingers over the carvings on the mantle realizing they’re symbols of himself, Thor, and her.

“Like the art work?” She asks walking into the room with two cups.

He jumps back into the couch at her words, and hastily accepts the cup from her, “The carvings,” he muttered.

“I may have been gone awhile, but I didn’t forget where I came from or who I care about,” she replies sitting opposite of him on the couch.

“You still care?” He asks, meeting her gaze.

“The fact you actually thought I had moved on so well I have a husband and child, I’m flattered by your confidence in me,” she responds.

He carefully picks at the edge of his suit cuff as thoughts race through his mind. “There’s so much I’ve imagined telling you if I were to see you again.”

“Such as?” She asks taking a drink.

He takes a drink from his own cup, relishing the taste he hadn’t had in years. The exact way she always made his tea, something he’d not been able to replicate. His eyes close momentarily as a content hum comes from his throat.

Another laugh escapes her as she looks at his content face, “I take it you still like that tea?”

“No other makes it like you darling,” he responds with a grin. They continue to smile at one another, and Loki cautiously reaches across the seat to take her hand in his. “What have you done in the last millennia then?”

She carefully squeezes his cool palm in her hand and exhales slowly, “Well, I’ve been here for almost all of it. After I left I sort of wandered for a week, teleporting various places. Found myself back in New York on the edge of just trying to go back to the tower and praying you’d let me back in.”

“Of course I’d have taken you back in,” Loki added quickly. “Why didn’t you?”

She shrugs gently, “Fear of rejection again? While I was contemplating that, that sorcerer there, Strange I believe his name was? I got to experience another one of his fun little portals. He took me back to his home, and I discussed my situation with him. And he actually suggested this little town, said my talents could be of use here. Opened up a portal, and well I made a home here. I informed Thor on the chance I was needed, I may have needed to get away but I wouldn’t sit here drinking tea while New Asgard burned to the ground.”

“Thor never told me,” Loki muttered clenching his free hand. “He could have just told me.”

“I needed to be away for awhile Loki,” she insists running her thumb over his knuckles. “If you’d shown up here the week after I got here… I’d have just followed you again straight away. I’d have learned and found nothing.”

He nods slowly looking into her eyes,“What do you do here?”

“Well,” she trails off looking around the room. “I’m a healer for the town. But I seemed to also have picked up the role of babysitter from time to time.”

“They accepted you in as a healer? Midgardians are so stuck on their science and medicine,” Loki raised an eyebrow.

She grins at him, “Thor had given me some money he had gotten from Tony to find a place. I bought this place and was taking care of myself. As I got to know the people, there was a young man dying from a disease, and there was nothing much that could be done. They were waiting on him to die. I suggested I give it a go, and they thought I was no more than a human hallucinating I had powers, but they let me because it couldn’t get much worse. I was able to heal him, and they all just sort of took me in as a healer. I spend most of my days here, and people will come to me. But I also work down at their hospital some days, and I don’t really have to pay for anything any longer. They take my service as enough and what I have left from Tony and my work at the hospital I buy other things I might want. I’ve watched several generations now in this town. The man you saw earlier, he grew up rolling around this lawn chasing after his friends, as did his great grandfather.”

“You always were a master at healing,” he nods. “The number of times you patched up Thor and I.”

“You two have always gotten into the nastiest of situations haven’t you?” She remarks.

“Quite,” he he acknowledges. “Did you hear anything that happened with Thanos?”

Her hold on his hand tightens, and a chill goes up her spine at the name, “No. All I knew is one day everyone was here, the next half of them were gone. I wanted to leave… go back and see if something could be done. But I was needed here. I had no clue what I could have done to help there, but I knew I could take care of protect the remaining people here. Then one day… it was if nothing had happened. All those people previously gone were here, and no one except me seemed to remember. I blamed it on him, but I tried to push it to the back of my mind.”

He nods slowly, “I died.”

Instantly her head jerks toward him, her eyes scanning his form, “You- you were one of those dusted?”

“No,” he responds looking away from her gaze. “We all fought him, hoping to prevent that from happening at all. He was going to kill Thor. I had no choice. From what I’ve been told he succeeded, and wiped out half the universe. The remaining Avengers traveled back in time to when we first came to New York. If you think back on it now, you’ll remember us helping them, going against Thanos’ plan and remember two sets of Avengers, one claiming to be from the future. That’s not how it went originally.”

Staring into the distance lost in thought, she mutters a quiet, “Well shit.”

The corner of Loki’s mouth turns up at her words, “All turned out well as you now know. I stayed with the Avengers for about three generations of heroes, and Thor returned to New Asgard. I now also live there, Thor made us co-rulers of the kingdom. But I travel often, so I’m not there as much as he. I go back to check on the newest version of Avengers from time to time.”

“I never saw you sticking with the team,” she smiles. “Helping people for three centuries on a regular basis, sharing the throne with Thor, continuing to go out helping. Someone’s changed.”

He sighs heavily before turning his whole body to face her, and grabbing her free hand with his. “No, I’ve been the man you believed me to be. The man you saw when even I fought against it. After you left I… I’ve tried to be a better man Y/N.”

“You’ve always been a good man in your heart Loki,” she says softly, running her thumbs over both sets of his knuckles.

“I wanted to be the man you deserved from me,” he insists, his tone causing her to look up from their hands. “I have to tell you something Y/N.”

She tilts her head in confusion but nods for him to continue.

“I love you,” he states without hesitation. “I’ve loved you since we were children. I loved you when you fell with me on the Bifrost. I loved you through every shitty situation we found ourselves in. Unfortunately it took you leaving for me to realize what I felt about you. I was scared to ever look any deeper than friendship. I didn’t want to be let down again with love. But you… you were the one person that was there with me every step of the way, and through actions and words reaffirmed your love for me. Not once did you try to make me be a different man. Not once did you treat me badly. You followed me to Hel and back, watching me lash out at everyone including yourself, use you, go with other women. And you still stood beside me, with words of love on your lips. Even at the cost of your own light, you kept mine burning.”

Tears prick at Y/N’s eyes at Loki’s admission, and she pulls one hand from his to hastily wipe away the few escaped tears. “Truly?” She whispers.

“More than I can ever admit,” he replies reaching up to cup her cheek. “I’ve spent over one-thousand years aching to tell you those words I failed to realize when I had you at my side. One-thousand years falling deeper in love with you, and regretting the time I wasted and ruined. Now here I sit across from you, your light burning brighter than ever, and I’m enchanted. Enchanted, nervous, scared, apprehensive, and longing. I don’t deserve even your time of day, but I ask for your hand Y/N.”

“My hand?” She asks, her eyes widening in shock. “I- Loki are you asking what I think you are?”

Staring into her eyes silently, he leans forward and presses his lips to hers slowly. He holds them there until he feels her move against him in acceptance, and deepens the kiss. The world slows for the both of them as all they focus on is their conjoined lips and their frantically beating hearts.

Slowly breaking the kiss, Loki presses his forehead to hers. She opens her eyes, still trying to catch her breath she looks into his bright blue-green eyes. The look of pure affection aimed towards her causes her cheeks to flush. A smile cross his features as he notices the reddening and pulls her closer to him.

Her hand goes to his wrist, sliding up under the fabric of his sleeve before closing around the leather on his wrist. Glancing down, she pulls back the sleeve to see her bracelet residing there. “You kept mine?” She asks surprised.

“I don’t take it off,” he chuckles. “The one thing I had left of you.”

She places her hand on his chest over his heart, and looks up into his eyes again, “I love you too by the way.”

He presses his lips to hers once again and she doesn’t notice the subtle magic going on beneath their chins. “Be my wife Y/N?” He asks, holding up the small golden ring with a emerald gleaming in the center.

“I- I don’t know what to say Loki,” she says staring down at the ring. “We’ve never actually been together… and it’s been over one-thousand years since we’ve seen one another.”

“Do you still love me as you did?” He asks tilting her head up to look into his eyes.

“I do,” she responds.

“Then let me give you the title and love you deserve,” he insists. “You’ve deserve the best I can offer. I don’t want you to just be my girlfriend Y/N. I want you to be my wife, I want you to be a Queen. I’m not going to play any longer like I don’t know I love you. We’re halfway through our lives Y/N. I know I want you by my side for the rest of our time. Come back home and marry me Y/N.”

Staring into his eyes she looks for any sign that he isn’t serious, but she can’t find one. His gaze is full of love, affection, and determination. She nods slowly as she continues to gaze into his eyes, “I will.”

Instantly the biggest smile she’s seen from him breaks across his face as he slips the ring on her finger and pulls her into a tight embrace, falling back onto the couch with her in his arms.

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she looks down at the god beneath her and shakes her head smiling, “I woke up today expecting to have a slow day of babysitting then reading a book by the fireplace. Not getting engaged to the God of Mischief.”

He winks back at her, “Well love, you just agreed to a life of mischief and excitement.”

“I do need some mischief in my life, the past millennia has been awfully dull.”

“I have more than enough to spare,” he murmurs as his lips brush against hers again. “I will do right by you this time I swear on it. I love you, my queen.”

----

Part 1 Part 2 Thor x Reader Ending

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Tag List: @smashley8244 @arielletheavenger @twiling-lady @waddles03 @persephones-garden

#loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x oc #loki imagine #marvel #almost lover

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