#but basically sitting in certain ways or being hunched over are all things to avoid

[nerdierholler]

Back update! Further talking to my sister and she says this really sounds like a disk issue so I might have a slightly bulging disk. Good news is that with rest and caution it should get better on its own but I do need to be really careful with it for the next month or two or it will become a major problem potentially. Good times. Fun times.

[thekrakenlolz]

Start up Fic - Ellie Williams x Reader

part 2

Summary: You switch dorms at your boarding school after you and your girlfriend go through a messy break up and you no longer can handle being roommates with her. Only your new one is a different kind of problem

a/n: I wrote the first chapter only to realize I have no idea what comes next. So here's my plan: if y'all like the set up, you can give me suggestions for what you want to happen next. I basically just laid down the base. So you can read it if you want and see if you have any ideas. But just as a warning, I'm not gonna write smut without a plot, I'm not about that life. I have a vague idea of what I can put next but it's very cliche and overdone sooooo yeah, thanx in advance<3

Also, English is my third language so expect bad grammar

°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-

Your eyes wandered over the walls as you walked along them. The paint was starting to flake off, revealing the concrete underneath. Your school was old. Like old, old. Like Victorian ages old. Something most of your friends scoffed over, but you personally liked. You thought it gave it character. Of course a little bit of a touch up wouldn't hurt, but bathroom doors that are actually still attached to the stall hinges were overrated anyways.

You were following Miss Jenkins, your housemother, hunched over as you were balancing three of your bags on your back. Uncomfortable, yes, but you were trying to minimize the amount of trips you had to make to move all your shit over to your new dorm. Anything to avoid seeing Samira more than absolutely fucking necessary.

"Here we are" Miss Jenkins sighed, stopping in front of one of the gray doors. It took everything in you not to roll your eyes. You were still pissed that you had to put in 4 requests over the duration of 2 months before they finally assigned you a new room, but now she was acting like she was doing you a huge favor. Like taking 15 minutes out of her day was so much to ask for. But you kept it down, thanking her again before opening the door and stepping in.

The lengthy process of actually getting a new room gave you plenty of time to stress over who your new roommate would be. This girl, however, didn't even come to mind. You weren't even sure what her name was, your social circle and her's didn't interact much. E-something? Or was it L?

Mystery girl was sitting at her desk, headphones in, and carefully shading out something in her notebook. You noticed she had tucked her left leg under her, a bad habit you also possessed. She didn't register your presence, her eyes still fixed on the paper. You threw your bags next to your bed, which finally caught her attention. "Oh fuck" she jumped up from the desk and hurried over to your bed, picking up the stuff she dumped on it. "Hello to you too" you mused.

Sweatshirts, textbooks and pencils started flying over onto her bed. "I'm sorry, I thought I had until Sunday to get my shit off your side" She explained, tossing a hairbrush across the small room. You watched it hit the wall and fall down onto her Zelda themed sheets. Cute, you noted. "No worries, take your time, I still have stuff to move over"

So you were back in the hallway, slowly but surely making your way back to your old dorm and with that, to Samira. Now that you were by yourself, you took the time to think about your new roommate. You still didn't know her name but one thing was for certain: she was incredible looking.

Her thick straight auburn hair cut off above the shoulders and her cheeks were densely dotted with freckles. She was very toned, especially in the arms. She was probably in the lacrosse team.

You did notice she was more on the masculine side, so might maybe even be gay. You full stopped, forcing yourself to remember, that's exactly the type of shit that got you in your current situation in the first place. No fucking your roommate, dude, we talked about this.

--------

You took a moment to collect yourself before entering your old room. You drew a breath in, scanning the ugly grey door that separated you and her. 12B the lettering read, touched up with some sharpie. You reached for the knob.

She was sitting at her desk, scrolling on her phone and demonstratively ignoring your presence. You bit down on the inside of your cheek. This wasn't what you expected. Somehow you preferred another stupid fight over this new silence.

You stacked two backpacks on one arm and three bags on the other. The weight made your walk out rather inelegant. You stopped in the doorway. "Goodbye Sami."

You could practically feel her hesitate.

"Bye."

[high-pot-in-noose]

Sometimes I don't do chores right away for any number of reasons, but one of these reasons can be that what I had developed into a tentative habit is simply kicked out from my brain as a habit. This one is a scary one for me, because that means I'm suddenly even less functional than already am, and degenerating is frightening, okay?

Ideally, when my brain has deleted the wash-the-dishes-right-away habit (for example), the best thing to do get me back into the practice is to just. Leave the dishes on the sink until I HAVE to wash them. Once my brain registers that, no, washing the dishes isn't painful and serotonin-draining, the habit will start forming again. Straight forward, right?

Wrong.

The approach the one I live with has taken is passive-aggressively snark at me about "forgetting" that unwashed dishes exist, complain that they have to pick up after me, and loudly do the dishes in front of me even after I explain that my brain did a fucky and now I have to work around myself to regain that function. They know I have the 'tism, I've explained executive dysfunction to them, and how people like me can't actually form habit the normal way. I'm knee-deep in the fallacy that if I just make myself perfectly clear when I explain things, people will understand; I can't escape that fallacy, though, because striving to make myself perfectly clear and give all information is basically the foundation of my being.

It goes without saying that I have yet to regain my dish-washing function. I had managed to rinse and stack the dishes all in the secondary sink just to make it easier to psyche myself up into actually just doing it, but what happened when I went to the bathroom? I came back, and they were already washed and left to drain; my efforts for nothing.

"Hey, I can understand that it's troublesome that certain chores that have been primarily mine aren't getting done right away right now, but I'd still really appreciate it if you could cooperate with me while I'm trying to reform the ability to execute. Could you just leave them? By taking away the need to do them, you're convincing the part of my brain that's insisting dish-washing is to be avoided that it's correct to keep insisting that."

"Blah blah blah, I can't stand untidiness in front of my eyes, blah blah blah, you're lazy, blah blah, just do it, blah, you're just making excuses."

The idea that I put off things just to not have to do them has always felt insane to me.

Look at my anxious, unable-to-focus, eternally-peeved ass, Gertrude! What part of me looks like I'm having a good time? What about me sitting here, staring blankly and unblinkingly at the kitchen table I can't wipe down despite how much I want to, knee bouncing erratically, hands constantly fiddling with my hair, sweaty, hunched over, and needing to remind myself to breathe, comes across to you as having a good time?

[merakiui]

hii could we get an angsty scenario/hcs of xiao and scaramouche/any characters you prefer! who are basically head over heels for someone but that person keeps getting with the wrong people and constantly getting their heart broken? Preferably with a good/fluffy ending but it’s up to you!

cw: angst + heartbreak  note - decided to go for scenarios! (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[Xiao] 

One Call Away—

The sudden shout of his name had brought him out into the open, where he finds you sitting in a field of wildflowers, your head hung and quiet sobs racking your hunched form.

“You called?” The gruffness in his voice startles you and your head snaps up. He notices your pained expression and the tears that refuse to cease, and it gives birth to a strange feeling within his chest. “What happened? Surely I am not too late.” And then he shakes his head. “No, I’m never late.”

“Ah... I’m sorry.” You sniffle, pitifully rubbing at your eyes. “I guess your name slipped out. I didn’t mean to bother you. I just didn’t mean to call for you either.”

Xiao raises a brow and then surveys the surrounding area. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re in any mortal peril. In that case, I’ll leave you to—”

“No!”

Your sudden shout startles the both of you, with you drawing back and Xiao’s eyes widening ever so slightly. He wonders why you’re crying when beautiful scenery surrounds you. Are you truly that pathetic? Are mortals usually this weak-hearted? Xiao can’t wrap his head around the idea of grief; he’s an immortal who has seen plenty of hazardous scenarios worth grieving over. Yet with the passage of time he has learned to let such emotions drift away on a wind current. Emotions are useless to an adeptus.

But now he’s stuck with them.

“No?”

“D-Don’t go...” Your voice wobbles and you wipe at your reddened eyes. “I don’t want to bother you, but could you stay here with me? For a little while, at least. It’s all I’ll ask...”

He feels like he should decline your desperate plea before it spreads its perplexing roots throughout his system. The words are practically on the tip of his tongue and he struggles to verbalize them. If he could, he’d shake his head and vanish from your sight. There’s something about your expression that forces him to stay, and he truly detests the way his emotions run wild at the prospect of something he can’t quite comprehend.

“Fine.”

And so Xiao listens to you. It’s something he does best; his eyes and ears are open as he gives you his full, undivided attention. Half of him observes your reactions as you explain what happened and the other half zeros in on the way your subtle hand motions. While he might not be anywhere near a cupid—and he would never be caught giving out relationship advice to mortals, which is something he couldn’t do even if he tried—he is still a being of immense power. From what he’s able to understand from your explanation, your loved one decided to part from you because they believed it just wasn’t working. And you, having been struck with an immense sadness, failed to call out to them to clear up any misunderstandings.

Eventually, after internally wrestling with his own thoughts and feelings, he asks, “Do you want me to teach them a lesson? Should you need them to feel the same amount of despair you’re feeling—”

“Oh, no! No. No. They don’t deserve to be punished for that. I understand now that our feelings weren’t the same. We really weren’t working and that’s okay. It just...hurts.”

Xiao tilts his head, an innocently childish show of confusion. “Where?”

“It’s not a physical pain, Xiao. I mean, it could be. But...this is more emotional.” Your hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around his wrist. He stares down at your hand and he almost pulls away. Before he can even consider what’s happening, you’re guiding his hand to where your heart is. “In here. It hurts now, but I’ll overcome it eventually. I’m used to it anyways...”

The straight-faced adeptus remains still as he feels the fast-paced beat of your heart. Mortals have always been weak in his eyes: feeble beings who break at the slightest inconvenience. Although you don’t seem close to shattering and that confuses him more than he’d like to admit. Perhaps you are one of the more resilient humans he’s come across in recent years. It’s strange when he feels your heartbeat, so very certain and alive with the sour feelings a heartbreak brings. He’s never understood that either. Heartbreaks and relationships. The differences between friendship and romance. Both can be seen through to the very end, if fostered healthily.

So then why are you so sad?

Truthfully, you’ve always seemed sad to Xiao. As an adeptus, he’s never been able to fully grasp the meaning behind human emotions. They’re insignificant in his eyes, mere flashes of feeling that can hurt and blind. They’re troublesome and useless—certainly not something he would ever want to experience. But those emotions can heal and bring cheer. They’re not all entirely bad, nor are they as evil as he seems to think they are.

Xiao realizes his hand has been on your chest for a while now and he’s been staring at you so much that you’ve begun to shrink away, partially embarrassed to have him analyze you with so much scrutiny.

“Is...something wrong?”

He shakes his head slowly at first before retracting his arm. And then he notices you’ve stopped crying. He’s not sure when this happened, but he’s oddly relieved to see your neutral expression. Somehow your crying face is painful and it wounds him in a way he never would have imagined.

“Thank you for listening to my rant. I know this is probably meaningless to you, since you’re an adeptus and all, but it really means a lot. So I’m glad I was able to get these things off my chest. I feel a lot lighter now.”

“You’re not sad?”

“Ah. Well...” Your gaze flickers, eyes darting to and fro while you struggle to look at him. “I’m still sad, but I’ll get over it! Don’t worry! I’m resilient!”

Xiao’s brow furrows in confusion. As he has thought plenty of times before, mortals are far too complex. Eventually he sighs and says, “It’s okay to cry. Don’t keep that inside, okay? You’ll just hurt yourself even more.” Now he’s avoiding your gaze and there’s a barely noticeable tinge of pink dusting his pale cheeks. He’s really not good at consoling humans.

“Oh, Xiao.” You pull him in for a hug and he stiffens, trying to squeeze out of your arms like a cat near water. But then he feels your fingers digging into his arm and he realizes that you might actually need this hug. Despite the fact that he’s not used to freely giving out hugs—or even cheering up mortals, for that matter—he is definitely out of his element. “Really, thank you. I promise to make you an Almond Tofu as thanks.”

“There’s no need for that.” Hesitantly, as if he’s worried he’ll break you, he wraps his arms around your form. “I’m just helping you because you called my name. That’s all.”

But that’s not the full truth. Hidden in those words is the real reason why he even bothered to stay despite the false alarm. And it worries Xiao when he thinks about the implications. He really does like you and this admiration has surpassed platonic love. As long as you’re okay, though, he’ll swallow his feelings in favor of making sure you’re always happy. It’s one of his duties as your friend.

Friend. A word Xiao never thought he’d ever use, but it feels nice. He likes it.

Yet The Distance Remains Harrowing.

[Scaramouche] 

To Mend a Broken Heart—

You’re spilling your emotional guts in front of the Sixth of the Fatui Harbingers, tears freely running down your cheeks like two faulty water faucets. It’s a pathetic sight, really. Scaramouche witnessed this exact show just a few weeks ago when you were so certain that that fisher was the one. Now, after meeting and getting together with someone else for a short time, you’ve come out of yet another relationship, unhappy and unsatisfied.

He’s jealous. There’s no denying the envy he feels when you talk so highly of these people and then wail about them a few days later. It’s a vicious cycle of mending a fragile heart and then breaking it into pieces all over again. With no end in sight, you fall victim to your own demise in the pursuit of love. He wonders if you’ll ever learn to choose your next partner carefully rather than settling for anything with a pulse.

“This is exactly what I said would happen, was it not?” he says with a sigh. “Oh, woe is you. If you were smarter, this last relationship might have lasted longer.”

“That’s rich coming from you. I’ve never seen you in a relationship before,” you mutter, wiping angrily at your eyes. His eyelid twitches at the not-so-subtle jab. “Ugh!I hate being so unlucky! This is the worst.”

“Rather than your foul luck, I think the problem lies within you and your taste in partners.”

Sniffling, you lower your head onto the table, hoping to just melt into the crafted wood before you end up making even more of a fool out of yourself. It’s rare to be in the company of Scaramouche, considering how often he’s assigned missions that require swift travel and a covert profile. But whenever you do find yourself sitting across from him, indulging in light snacks and tea, it’s always because you’ve lost your latest lover; and your own sadness requires the nullifying effects of Scaramouche’s cynicism.

“They’re good people! I just don’t know why it never works out. We’re happy and we both like each other—it doesn’t make any sense. Am I missing something? Is it my fault? They probably got tired of me because I’m not a good person.“

“Perhaps.” He takes a moment to sip his tea and you muster a weak glare. Only Scaramouche can delight in his beverage while you’re holding back another onslaught of tears. “Your crocodile tears are hardly flattering and your apparent need for consistent affection might come off as clingy. And you have a tendency to find flaws within yourself whenever something doesn’t go your way. Adding onto that, you doubt yourself a lot and you’re always quick to take the blame for things that are out of your control. In a way you are partially—”

“I get it. I’m not a good person.”

“I never said anything of that sort. Now you’re just asking for pity.”

Oh, how close you are to punching that smirk off of his face.

“Then since you seem to know everything, my oh so helpful friend, why don’t you tell me what I’m missing?”

“With pleasure.” His cup finds the surface of the table as he ponders your demand for a moment. “You’re missing someone who meshes well with your personality.”

“That’s not true. Everyone I’ve been with so far—“ His skeptical look makes you stop short. “Okay. Maybe we forced it because we thought it was love. But that’s besides the point! There was still an attraction! I think...” You huff and bury your face in your arms, nearly almost sprawling on the table. You’re too depressed to even consider how impolite your actions look, and Scaramouche scoffs at your poor display of manners. “Where am I even going to find someone who ‘meshes well with my personality,’ hm?”

“I’m sure you’ve already found them.” He clears his throat, tracing a finger along a sanded knot in the wooden table. “You’re sitting across from him.”

Whether he intended for you to hear that whispered part, you can’t say for sure. But your head perks up and you fix him with a lopsided grin. “You’re kidding.”

“Hm?”

“Me and you, a couple?” A small giggle escapes your lips and you swipe the remaining tears out of your eyes. “Don’t joke about that. I’m trying to be sad here!”

It wasn’t a joke, he almost says and he catches himself, suddenly self-conscious.

“I don’t think we’d work out,” you continue, motioning between you and him. “We’d hardly see each other and you don’t seem like the type for romance. Besides, I’m not attracted to you in that way. You feel the same, right?”

Scaramouche stares into his cup before he meets your gaze, a tight smile gracing his expression. “Of course. Your inability to settle isn’t all that attractive.”

Your eyes roll and you finally pick up your own cup to take a large gulp of lukewarm tea. The bitter Harbinger observes your actions with narrowed eyes. There’s a distinct pain that taps at his hardened soul, splitting it apart as your words echo within his spinning head. I don’t think we’d work out. I’m not attracted to you in that way. Why is he suddenly feeling...upset? He’s not one for pitiful emotions; he’s a Harbinger, not a lovesick fool! He ought to glare at you and storm off, demanding the two of you never speak again. But he won’t say that because he doesn’t want to hurt you. Because he cares for you. Because he loves you.

You feel the same, right?

No, that’s not right. This is the love he’s been wallowing in since he first got acquainted with you. It’s strange when he remembers every event that has led up to the blossoming feelings that reside deep in the epicenter of his heart, but it’s even more strange that he can’t find the courage to voice his own opinion.

“We wouldn’t mix,” he reaffirms your statement with a cold tone. There is no warmth in his eyes. “After all, your taste in tea is as bad as your taste in partners.”

And even though he wishes you could see through his walls—just this once he’ll allow you to tear them down for the sake of a half-baked confession—you just sit there and grin, no longer teary-eyed and forlorn. How odd. His heart feels far heavier than it’s ever been before. And you’re already scanning your surroundings, hungry for a love that will never keep you sated. Perhaps you weren’t even sad in the first place.

Upon realizing this, Scaramouche wants nothing more than to disappear into the wood like a feeble worm and never come back out.

You Must Break Another.

[mlpdestinyverse]

“The Bigger One”

Heather Tart is used to many things, be it receiving praise, using her charm to sway a situation to her favor, or asserting her dominance as a respected student at Twilight's School of Friendship.

A punch to the face...is not one of those things.

Feat. Star Chime, Heather (Tart) Reed

Related Chapters: Tongue Twister, Honesty, Confrontation ~Destinyverse Archive~

Story and Description Under The Cut

Heather Tart had a plan. Of course she did. Her meticulous mind could think its brilliant way through anything. Especially when she had a goal so close to her she might just be able to touch it. As such, she used her natural charisma to discreetly excuse herself out of her afterschool clubroom that day. It was a little earlier than the typical time her Science Club ended. Not that it mattered. Not only did their activities finish early, but in their final moments of leisure time, only one topic buzzed relentlessly around the classroom. Princess Luna was here, visiting the School of Friendship. Under what pretense - and for how long - no one knew. Near the end of the day, the regal Alicorn had been spotted by a stray hall monitor. Striding beside Princess Twilight Sparkle, Luna had been touring the school grounds between class periods, quietly observing the students through door windows while they busied themselves with classwork. Yet she was nowhere to be seen once said periods had ended and the hallways bustled with hooves and claws alike. Elusive as ever, their mysterious Moon Princess. One could assume the Princess of the Night had discreetly taken her leave long ago; glorious gossip, however, said otherwise.

Heather's heart had nearly burst when she'd heard the news. Years of dreaming and the heavenly Alicorns were finally rewarding her. The teenaged Earth Pony resisted prancing through the empty halls in her excitement. Upon trotting out the front doors, Heather scanned the beautiful frontal schoolyard and its glistening pond that surrounded the entrance. The sky was still gray from its brief shower hours before, and with careful hooves, the filly made her way across the damp stones cutting through the pond and around the side of the school. With even more precaution, Heather made sure to avoid the mud in favor of patches of rain-touched grass. She hated nothing more than muddying her hooves. And if she was going to meet Princess Luna? She was going to do everything to ensure she'd look as elegant and pristine as ever. Step one: Make her way towards the back, where she knew the school's picnic tables were scattered about just for students during their lunch periods and downtime. Step two: Grab the nearest table towards the backdoors. Probability told her, almost without a shadow of a doubt, that this would be the very exit Princess Luna would use if her tendency to avoid crowds and not cause a fuss was anything to go by. It wasn't one hundred percent guaranteed, but the chances were high enough that Heather was willing to take it. It wouldn't be out of character for her, either. Heather loved sitting at a table on a sunny day to quietly work on homework. Sometimes, as president of her club, she'd even sit there to plan out new fun lab experiments for the Science Club's next meeting. Studious. Conscientious. Hard-working. She could never get enough of teachers and students alike noticing her and praising her efforts. As they should. The scenario in her mind played out the same way. She'll be sitting there, hunched over a notebook and mulling over new club activities, when Princess Luna and Twilight waltz their way out of those doors. They'll see her, Twilight will ask her what she's doing, and Heather would yet again demonstrate her leadership and intellect. Twilight will praise her, introduce her to Luna as one of her best students- And the youngest of the royal sisters will look upon her and remember her name. Heather could feel her heart racing and subconsciously her hooves picked up their pace. Meeting the other princesses, catching their attention, and standing out amongst the drabble...if she were to be honest, she didn't realize just how much she ached for it. Not until now. Not until it was so close- Heather turned the corner, honing in on the table she knew would be hers- Only to find another sitting there. And oh, at the sight of her, Heather felt her very blood boil. Of course she just had to be here. The dullest, most boring-looking Unicorn that had ever insulted Heather's eyes; dull white and cream coat, drab grayish-blue mane, pale and ugly blue irises as narrow as a snake's. And who could ever miss that long, rat-like tail with a tuff of mane at the end, just lying on the bench beside her. She wanted to laugh at this filly's attire too, trying to pass off as prim and proper with an outfit that only made her look like a senile office worker.  Heather knew very well who this was. And she despised her very existence. But as a filly of her own standing at this school, she had appearances to keep up. So with the most saccharine smile she could muster, Heather took long, deliberate steps towards the other filly. It didn't take long for the Unicorn to notice her, those snake eyes flicking up from what had to be the most ostentatious book Heather had ever seen; silver and grey with metallic decor on its cover, embedded with one large tacky-looking gem just as blue-gray and washed out as the filly it belonged to. Heather stopped beside the table, avoiding a muddy patch beneath it, and held the Unicorn's gaze as much as those eyes repulsed her up close. "Hi there! You must be new around here!" Heather chirped. She gave the filly a chance to at least muster a reply. She should have expected the Unicorn to

cautiously eye her like a socially inept buffoon. After an awkward few seconds, she nodded. "I am," the filly managed. Good for her. "Well isn't that nice!" Heather lies through her teeth and a beaming smile. "Then I can't blame you for not knowing! Where you're sitting right now is my usual seat. But hey, now you know, so I'm sure you won't mind moving for me, hm~?" The Unicorn stared at her. Two seconds. Five seconds. Heather watched impatiently as the other filly swept her gaze across the other empty tables around them, almost pointedly. 'Yeah. You heard what I said. I'm not being subtle. Get lost.' Victory was in her grasp, of course. She wasn't the only one here that had pretenses to maintain and denying her civility would only make this filly look like the asshole of the two. And that wouldn't make the Unicorn much of a role model, now would it? Heather's innocent smile stretched expectantly, taking in the Unicorn's deadpan expression boring into her. Another annoying second later and the other filly finally shut her book tight, sliding it to one side without breaking eye contact. "No. I don't think I will." Heather's smile twitched. How she didn't take into account a lack of even the most basic social courtesies from this filly, she'll never know. "Well that's a little harsh," Heather feigned hurt, disguising the simmering fury just beneath her skin. "I just wanted my favorite seat for my studying. Is that really too much to ask for?" An unwavering, distrustful narrow of those eyes was the Unicorn's only response. So. That's how it was going to be. ...yet face-to-face with such blatant defiance, Heather - for the first time - was at a dead end. There was no sweet talking that face. And with no one around, there was no leverage here for her to turn the tables. Behind pursed lips her jaw clenched and her teeth grated. Pathetic. Pathetic. It infuriated her how rapidly the power had shifted - power taken from her in the one place Heather had worked for it.  Power THIS outsider didn't deserve. It was then that Heather's eye honed in on a certain pretty little book, teetering near the edge of the table. Ah. Okay then. Heather could take a loss. She could take a small, minuscule hit to her pride. No one was there to see it. Her goal was still in reach, so long as she kept up pleasantries and proceeded with her plan at the next table over. Heather, however, wasn't above taking small, subtle, petty victories. Anything for the satisfaction of reminding others where she stood around here. "That's too bad...but I understand." Heather sighed and hung her head. "I won't bother you." She turned her body, then. Too quickly. Or just fast enough to make the harsh bump of her flank against the table's edge at least semi-believable. She listened for it... SQUISH A gross squelch cut the silence, a sound that was beautiful to her ears. As she had hoped, turning back around revealed the plummeted book, lying delightfully amongst the brown patch of muck below the table. Despite her gasp, Heather could barely stop herself from grinning at her success. "Oh no!" she exclaimed, and it was just as difficult to stifle a much-needed laugh, especially with how much this Unicorn's face had slackened at the sight beneath them; silvers and greys, now smeared with dark mud. The other filly took in the filthy book with dim eyes. Poor spoiled girl. "I'm so sorry! Let me-" Heather's hoof was inches away from picking up the book to present to the Unicorn - a grand power move in her head - when a sourceless light blinded her. The Earth Pony barely had time to react before something solid rammed straight into her face. All she could do was squeal and tumble back into the ground at the excruciating pain and the sheer force of the impact. There was a wet slippery slide of the earth below her, displaced by the collision of her body. She didn't even know she was holding her stinging face until she pulled back trembling hooves from it, furiously blinking her blurry vision back into focus. Her head throbbed, the blood rushing into it

pulsing loudly in her ears.  While her world was reassembling itself, Heather felt the fabric of her torso become seized and in moments her entire body was being pulled up by a shocking amount of strength. The open-air was suddenly freezing against her pelt, forcing her delayed senses to fully experience the scorching hot pain spreading through her muzzle and cheeks. Her left eye especially struggled to stay open, even as another face shoved itself into hers. The filly before her breathed shallowly against her nose, wild and unhinged eyes resembling a beast now more than ever. "That," the Unicorn heaved out in a heavy, shaking breath. She renewed her grip on Heather's dress, expression distorted into a monstrous snarl. "Was father's you heartless wench!" Heather felt like a ragdoll, swaying on weak, dirtied hindlegs, one hoof pathetically draped over the vice-grip holding her in place. Her brain felt shaken, thoughts racing. And her blood ran cold when the other filly let out a quiet, humorless laugh at her. "Oh, I know your type..." the Unicorn whispered breathlessly, those venomous irises burning holes into her. "Thinking you're the biggest fish in the pond. Like you can lord over everyone else without consequence. You think no one can stand up against you." Heather choked on a sound as her face was pulled in further, a breath ghosting her muzzle even hotter than before. Her panicked magenta eyes darted up to the Unicorn's horn; what was already glowing a haunting silvery-blue now crackled violently with energy, stray white sparks searing into her exposed skin. A primitive growl ripped out of the other filly, and in those ferocious eyes, Heather swore she saw bloodlust. "How's it feel to meet a bigger fucking fish?" Heather screamed. It was something raw and primitive of her own, and she thrashed in the other filly's hold to no avail. She didn't know how long that went on for, wasn't sure how much time was passing as she waited for another strike- "STAR CHIME!" A booming, commanding voice filled the space, powerful enough to tremor the ground beneath them. Her ears only then registered a number of other voices rising in volume and proximity. The rigid muscles in her neck ached when she finally turned her head just enough to see out of the corner of her eye.  So many heads were sticking out of classroom windows, no doubt stragglers from clubs that surely have ended by now. Amongst those faces, she could recognize a few teachers, and to the right... Princess Twilight and Princess Luna, with the backdoors thrown open around them. Her attacker jerked away, releasing Heather to let her fall onto her forelegs. As soon as she was released, a blur of movement rushed out from the creatures gathered behind the two Alicorns. "Heather!" The Earth Pony almost instinctively flinched away, but was immediately soothed by the familiar arms of her best friend, Amber Shine, cradling her form. It amazed her how the Pegasus filly was willingly angling her body to both support her weight and shield her if need be. Despite the protective walls surrounding her, Heather still had a clear view of the princesses. Twilight looked absolutely horrified. But clearly someone else here held the most oppressive presence and authority. Princess Luna looked upon the scene with a frigid death stare that would cut through anyone. And it was trained on one single filly. "What is this?!" Luna demanded, her deep voice rumbling the air like thunder. When she strode forward, not even Twilight dared to stay in step. She trailed behind the other princess with shock etched into her youthful features.  The Unicorn shuffled, and Heather watched Star Chime's newly distressed visage come to life. Her long tail lashed behind her like an agitated cat. "She knocked father's tome into the muck, mother!" Star shouted, eyes darting wildly from Heather to Princess Luna. The Alicorn's expression actually faltered for a second before her sharp blue eyes landed on Heather. And Heather's heart jolted in terror. 'No...no! Don't you dare ruin this for

me!' "It was an accident!" Heather wailed back, letting every ounce of emotion pour into her voice. Near-instantly, Star Chime whipped towards her with a scowl. "You LIAR!" "ENOUGH!" Star Chime's head snapped up to look at her mother, as Princess Luna now stood a mere tail length before them, dark blue wings flaring out behind her. "That does not��constitute violence against a defenseless subject, Star Chime!" And as the lunar princess seared those harsh eyes into her daughter, it dawned on Heather the advantage she had. The position she was in, with her face undoubtedly swollen and appearance soiled by the assault of that horrid young princess. She was more grudgeful now than fearful, though she couldn't deny the tears of pain and prior-fear-for-her-life that had left streaks in their wake. However, there was room to play it up further. So focusing on the pain and just how overwhelmed she felt? A hiccuping, sniveling mess she became. "Y-you didn't even let me pick it up for you!" Heather sobbed out, pressing her wet cheek into her friend's warm chest. The sweet Pegasus comfortingly stroked her hair. She could just imagine the pity on Amber's brow. "You just attacked me out of nowhere! E-even after I apologized!" Murmurs. Sweet murmurs of concern and disbelief sounded from the far-off onlookers. They knew her; thoughtful, honest Heather, who got along with everyone and had a spotless record. In the face of unnecessary violence, they literally had no reason to doubt her. Besides, how was she supposed to know that garish book was from the late King? Not even the Alicorns above could claim she was lying here. "Oh Heather..." Twilight murmured compassionately, and that alone filled her to the brim with glee. Checkmate. "M-mother, please, I just..." Star Chime begged uselessly. Oh, begging suited her. Too bad she had nothing to excuse her brutishness. She lost this battle ages ago. Heather knew, because Princess Luna could only exhale deeply, her countenance a storm of emotions that the filly was honestly clueless to identify. What Heather hadn't seen coming was the sudden shift in the Moon Princess' expression from there; from rigid and grave to sheer exhaustion and sadness. "I thought we were past this..." Luna whispered, so quietly that Heather had nearly missed it. The true proof that those words were even spoken was the way Star Chime recoiled as if she had been slapped. Heather jumped as feathers slid over her back, only to realize Princess Twilight had moved forward to reassert authority. After shooting her a gentle glance, she returned her attention to the other princesses. She hesitated before opening her mouth to speak- Luna beat her to it. "I have changed my mind, Twilight." Luna began, collecting herself just as quickly as the shift had happened. "Star Chime will not be attending your school after all." Heather would have whistled were this not an inopportune time. She simply sat back and enjoyed the unfolding drama as Star Chime looked at her mother with wide, shell-shocked eyes, frantically searching Luna's face for an answer already before her.  "Mother," Star Chime's voice cracked, desperation seeping through. "No, please, let me prove myself-!" "There is nothing to prove." Luna quietly interjected. Her general demeanor was no longer of disappointment or even judgment, but somber patience of all things. "I realize now that you require more of my attention than what little I have given you...perhaps in the future you may return to Ponyville. But now is not your time." As if to make her point, Luna subtly swept her gaze across the onlookers, and Star Chime followed her line of sight. Heather had to agree, Princess Luna was practically showing her mercy. Imagine attending classes here after making a first impression like this. She'd be the talk of the halls. Every soul in Twilight's School would know of the violent princess who punched one of their top students square in the face (and Heather would absolutely make sure every ear knew of it). Little miss Star Chime was better off being pulled

out of this school before she even started. It'd give Heather less of a migraine and save her the humiliation.  Just like... "Allow me to extend my deepest apologies in place of my daughter," Luna said towards Heather, whisking away every other thought in her mind. While she began to buzz in delight, that buzz slowly died down at the unreadable expression the Moon Princess wore. She was as formal and distant as ever. Almost...scrutinizing her? Where was her sympathy? "I will be holding a very thorough discussion with her over these events, and I intend to offer reparation to you and your kin." "Heather's parents aren't here in Ponyville," Twilight finally found an opening to speak, taking on the tone of a responsible princess. "But Applejack is her guardian, so I'll be contacting her soon to pick Heather up." "Very well. I will return shortly to speak to her, then, and recompense will be sent to the family." Heather perked up when the royal addressed her once more. "I understand that you are distressed. I will be escorting Star Chime away from here, and you will have time to recover with your friends. I hope you do not mind." Heather sniffled and swiped a hoof over her face. "I don't mind...thank you, princess." Luna's attention left her too quickly for Heather's liking, focusing on the Unicorn princess instead. "Come, Star." Luna called in a hushed voice, taking her exit with grace and purpose. Heather's focus shifted to Star Chime just as the Unicorn's horn lit aglow with that very same eerie silvery blue, levitating the grimy book out of the sludge. As parts of the wet mud slipped off in thick glops, the Unicorn gave the book's cover a weak swipe of her hoof, only managing to smudge muck further into its intricate crevices. While Luna departed with the elegance and power of true royalty, Star all but dragged her hooves after her, gaze downcast and mouth pressed into a firm line. Unsurprisingly, she shot one final scorching side glance at Heather Tart through her draping bangs. It lingered until Heather left her periphery and the Unicorn could only trail after her mother like a helpless foal.

Pressing her head further into her friend's chest, Heather sneered at the filly's retreating back until she rounded the corner and out of sight. 'That's what you get, rat princess.' "Heather, are you okay? What did she even do?!" Now that the immediate threat was gone, her colt friend Arctic Bolt was charging in from the small crowd, nearly slipping a few times in his scramble over. Oh great. Heather wasn't sure if she was in the mood for the buckball star's overdone jests and witty quips at this moment. Yet she couldn't reject the amount of attention and concern she was receiving. "Gods, I think she gave you a black eye." Amber Shine fretted. The filly helped Heather sit up, but the moment she even tried to brush a hoof near the Earth Pony's left socket, Heather flinched away and grunted. "Punched me." Heather forced out through gritted teeth once Arctic had slowed to a stop before them. "Fell to the ground..." "Geez, it's like your dress took as much of a beating as you did..." Arctic muttered. And as much as she wanted to roll her eyes at his dumb remark, looking down proved that the joke was more accurate than she'd realized. Red fabric was now stained with mud and grass and stretched out past its limits by the iron grip of that wretched beast. Or maybe it didn't look so bad! MAYBE that was just her, peering at it with one eye while she held shut the one that was throbbing and bruising over. Yeah. That remuneration better come fast- "Heather, I am so sorry." Twilight's voice promptly grabbed her attention. The Alicorn mare bent her legs to meet her height, looking to her with so much guilt that one would think the perpetrator had been one of her own family. "This shouldn't have happened. Star Chime has been working hard through some of her...habits, and while she's made progress she's also very emotional at heart and then after losing her father-" This was very new and very disconcerting, watching Princess Twilight Sparkle actually fumble through her words and appear rather flustered over the situation. Heather felt her jaw clench. The two had to be pretty close for Twilight to feel this compelled to defend the girl. "That said, harm should have never come to you, especially on my premises. I just...I hope you won't hold this against her. If circumstances were different, I really think you two would have gotten along." Oh. Heather could not stop her face from screwing up at that. Twilight noticed (Heather for once hoped she did, God forbid the Friendship Princess actually tried to forcibly mend this atrocity) and her shoulders noticeably drooped. "But I completely understand if this has damaged those chances."

Twilight took in a healthy breath of air and straightened back up. While she once again spoke with calm and control, the way her ears remained pinned back was hard to miss. "Please head in and wait outside my office whenever you're ready, Heather. I'll let the nurse know to prepare an ice pack for you before I get in contact with Applejack. This'll definitely take some time, so please bear with me." Ugh. Applejack. As if her voice wasn't already annoying to listen to on a daily basis. Now the older mare was going to fuss knowing her overprotective nature and Heather wasn't looking forward to having her ear talked off on how slices of raw potato and toothpaste were the grand answer to healing her face or whatever ridiculous ideas those country bumpkins had in their screwy heads. Moving out and away from the farm life couldn't come sooner. But there were bigger things to focus on in the present. It wasn't until Twilight had walked off, exchanging words with the last few students who were being herded away by the remaining school staff, that Amber Shine voiced a question that had been on Heather's own mind. "What did she mean by...'working through habits'?" The orange Pegasus uttered slowly, eyeing the backdoors as the final student filed in after the princess. "That was way more unsettling than it had to be." "Oh...oh Gods it's all connecting..." Both Heather and Amber turned to Arctic, who was now holding his head between his hooves in what appeared to be either alarm or a headache. Ever the dramatic one. Heather would have been tempted to snap at him for obnoxiously drawing the suspense out, but thankfully Amber was faster and more patient. "Uh, mind sharing?" The Pegasus cautiously prodded, now giving her friend a hesitant glance-over. Arctic's wide blue eyes flashed back into focus and he began wildly gesturing with his hooves- "Okay listen- I have this friend in Canterlot whose cousin went to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns with this other guy, right-" "The friend of a friend's cousin." Amber repeated, and oh, Heather recognized that tone as the filly already being half-done with the conversation. Bless her. "Easy to follow. Carry on." "No, seriously listen!" Arctic hissed quietly, and for the first time since Heather had met the silver Earth Pony, he actually looked like he was being serious. "My friend told me this story about how apparently, Princess Star Chime got pulled out of school for completely thrashing that cousin's friend! Said there was blood and teeth everywhere and she beat the poor guy until he was begging on the floor!"  Heather could feel her visible eye nearly bug out of its socket. "And they tried to let someone like THAT come HERE?!" she near shrieked. Her friends were lucky that she had already spent her vocal cords not too long ago. "It IS the School of Friendship. Guess they were hoping to make her less punchy." He muttered out one of his wisecracks. Heather's head was whirling too much for her to admonish it. How close had she just come to being battered into a stain on the grass?  Wait...actually- "Okay, but why are we only just now hearing about this?" Amber, ever a kindred spirit, inquired the very same disbelief in her own mind. "The newspapers would have blown up over a royal scandal like that!" Heather agreed. And if she had possessed this knowledge just a little earlier, maybe she would have treaded just a bit more carefully. At the very least, she would have been able to figure out a way to use it to her advantage... "Well for one, it was like, two years ago... and apparently not a lot of ponies got to witness the attack. But-" Arctic leaned his head in, head whisking about in search of eavesdroppers before dropping his voice even lower. "It sounded like Celestia and Luna covered the whole thing up and made everyone involved agree to keep the information private. So most of the public has no idea what happened, but obviously whispers managed to slip through a few mouths in upper Canterlot..." "Wow..." Heather whispered. Yeah. That was probable. The princesses

had the power. And while Heather knew anyone else would have been a little frightened over the influence their rulers had, whether for the sake of a nation or for their own means...Heather herself was sort of amazed. As if she could actually blame them for going to such lengths to conceal the shame that girl would have brought to their exalted family otherwise. "But even before that!" Arctic swiftly continued. "Apparently the kids at the school were already dubbing her the 'Delinquent Princess' behind her back! My friend's cousin never knew why until...y'know." "Delinquent Princess." Amber repeated back. "What a...stupid name." 'And I think it's fitting...' Heather was tempted to add but miraculously toned her spite down. "...I mean Ithoughtitsoundedbadass- but only because I thought the whole story was just some elaborate rumor!!" Arctic threw up his hooves. "I didn't think someone from the royal family could be that crazy, yet here we are! So don't talk like it's nothing but made-up gossip after what just happened!"

"...you're not wrong." Amber muttered, and her wing pulled Heather closer into her side. The earth filly welcomed the warmth, though she didn't like the look of discomfort on her friend's face. "In other words, we're talking about violent habits. And from a princess of Equestria...that's awful." "Yep. She is. But let's stop talking about her for now" Heather muttered, feeling both sets of eyes fall on her. The more she heard, the more that resentment deep within her grew. And the more that grew, the more her temples ached beyond the limits of what she was willing to deal with. "I think I'd like that ice pack right about now." "Oh crap, right!" Arctic jumped, urgently motioning for the fillies to walk ahead while he kept the rear. "Got a little carried away. We'll stick around until Twilight gets back!" "Yeah. Twilight did say it'd take a while." With a comforting smile, Amber Shine squeezed Heather's shoulder with her wing feathers. "I say it a million times, but just as a reminder; we've got you, girl." And she appreciated the encouragement. She really did. But Heather found it incredibly hard to muster more than a ghost of a smile when she found her legs on autopilot while her mind was elsewhere. 'Stop talking about her" she'd said. Yet she couldn't even bring her own brain to shut up. When it came to the very thought of that Unicorn princess, ugly green thorns never stopped digging their way into her ribcage. But after today... Heather's inner snarl rang with unconcealed bitterness, louder than ever before. 'How? How does someone like her get to be a princess?'

_________________________________________

Officially introducing Star Chime! Daughter of Luna, sister of Prince Amadeus, and youngest royal of the five royal Equestrian children (Princess Flurry Heart, Princess Lumina, Prince Amadeus, Prince Nova Spark, and Princess Star Chime, in that order)! Though by youngest, she's probably a year or two younger than Nova Spark.

I'm excited that she's ready to officially be a part of the cast!! I've considered her and Dream Flow the future main protagonists of present-day story. One day she'll meet her partner in crime. One day...

Also, very fun to write a chapter exploring Heather's psyche! In no way am I advocating for violence against misbehaving kids, by the way. I know people will see this as Heather "getting what she deserves" - and wanting to see karma get her is valid - but just know the purpose of this chapter wasn't me trying to take pleasure in physically "punishing" this kid, back when she was a youth with very misguided values. Just wanted that to be clear!

[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T.Shelby Imagine Ch. 25

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 18,006

WARNINGS: Angst, Cursing, Fluff, Continuous First Person to Third Person POV Shifts, ONE! Tom Third Person POV, Self-harm, Alcohol, SMUT! (NSFW): oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

Summary: It’s March of 1922, Ali’s nearing the end of her stay with the Shelby’s. After years of waiting, she’s finally ready to move on, but will fate let her. 

MASTERLIST  CHAPTER 24.2  CHAPTER 26

A/N: This chapter contains some POV switches as will the next chapter! Y’all know the deal. Black line breaks are there as a warning for the self harm scene. Only 1 ‘n it’s small! 

Smut is finally here! I haven’t written a SMUT scene in forever, so I fear I’m a little out of touch. 

It’s March of 1922 and things are going great! Well, not really, I had a mental breakdown so... I mean, not as bad as my last one, which was like a year ago. But, I was coming to terms with the fact that I killed someone! Someone who I did not have a paid hit on, but I murdered out of pure hatred. 

So, I had to do some inner reflection on that, and it would have gone a lot smoother if I had chosen to stop doin’ my side job. But I didn’t. I kept on with my “assassinating.” 

So was I really healed? Probably not, but hey! I don’t think about it anymore. I did it, I got away with— let’s move on. The guy was a douche anyway. Probably did society a favor. 

Yeah…

Right now I was cleaning up at Cassie’s flat. The gang was coming over soon, and I had to get the blood of a client off of me. The job was easier than most. I infiltrated another big party, seduced the target, and shot them in the chest and in the head. It’s a rule of thumb I have that I took from Zombieland. I got some blowback on me, so that’s why I’m taking a shower.

I’m not in the best of spirits tonight. Why, you may ask? Well, it’s because Michael and Arthur were to be arrested tonight. The only reason I knew was because Moss tipped me off. He caught me while I was visiting his wife. He took me aside and told me that Campbell had reason to arrest Michael, and he told me when it was going to take place.

The only reason why he was letting me know was because Campbell had his own plans for me. He didn’t know if Campbell wanted me arrested, but if I was on the scene— I was to be taken in. 

Let me tell you, I was so fucking proud of myself for befriending Moss’s wife! The single best thing I ever did. I mean, I knew I would be “bailed out” in no time thanks to all my rich mates, but Michael would still be in the clink. I think. I could ask around for some connections, if I needed to or was asked.

But, yeah. Michael and Arthur were being arrested tonight while I was at Cassie’s. Of course I felt guilty that I couldn’t prevent it, but it’s not like I could in the first place. That would mess with the timeline too much. 

Eventually, I got out of the shower, dried off, and put on my underwear. I’ve been trying to get more comfortable with my breasts, so I haven’t been wearing my bra to bed. In nothing but my towels and underwear, I walked out into the room.

“So,” I began while walking over to the bed, where I had my clothes laid out. “What’s on tonight’s agenda? Some heavy flirting? A therapy session? Or some good old fashion gambling?”

Cassie giggled, a pillow in her grasp as she threw open her arms. “All of it, babes!”

I chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.” I dropped my towel and put on my dress. It was a velvet robe-like dress. Very flowy and comfortable, though it had a deep v-neck. Again, trying to get comfortable with my tits. Luckily, this process has been going on for a while and Dougie and Horace are now used to seeing a bit of my cleavage.

The pair do not regard me as anything more than a mate. Dougie is like my male twin flame while Cassie’s my female twin flame. They just match my vibe so fucking well! While Horace...well, he only has eyes for Angie. We bond pretty well academically, though. He answers a lot of questions I have pertaining some of the hypotheticals I conjure while writing.

After I put on my dress, I lotioned up my legs and arms before moving on to caring for my hair. I was brushing it out when the gang came in.

Dougie came up to me and kissed my temple before heading toward the table with the rest of the group. I hurriedly scrunched up my hair as I desperately wanted to join the conversation in fear of being left out. 

I threw my hair towel aside and quickly shuffled to the table. Cassie saw me coming and got up from her seat.

While beckoning me to her, she said. “Ali, c’mere.” 

I sat in her chair and once I was settled down, she sat on my lap. I sighed before asking, “So, what are we playing first?”

Cassie was sitting on my lap sidesaddle. She reached over on the table to the carton of ciggies that someone had thrown, tapped it on the bottom before pulling two out. 

With a ciggie hanging from her mouth, Angie replied while shuffling the cards. “We decided on Go Fish. Your favorite.” She winked at me and I returned it.

I giggled before accepting the ciggie Cassie held for me. She rested hers on her lip and just as she went to lit it— Dougie leaned over to us.

“Here, just use mine.” He said while pressing the end his ciggie to hers. 

Muffled, Cassie replied. “Thanks.” She looked back to me, took my face in her hands, and connected the ends of our ciggies. Basically, repeating what she’d just done with Dougie.

I swear to God, this group is so sus. And I think I’m partially at fault for how close and open the group is. I’m sorry, okay, I’m a physical person and I cut through the bullshit with the people I hold dear!

Angie dealt the cards, and I slid them closer to my face. I was exhaling when Cassie decided to start the conversation flow again.

She asked. “So Tina, how’s your married man? What was his name again?”

Tina tsked, a scowl on her face. “Darren, his name’s Darren. And, he’s fine...”

I raised an eyebrow. “Just fine? Who the hell’s starting?”

Angie cleared her throat. “I dealt so Douglas goes. Cassie’s sitting in your lap, so either you or her is next and vise versa. Then, Tina goes and finally Horace before me.”

I nodded as a quiet “oh” escaped my mouth. I looked back over at Tina.

Tina replied. “Yes, just fine.”

“So, has he filed for a divorce from his wife? Any sevens?” Dougie asked.

Horace and Angie gave him their cards.

Tina pouted, her arms crossing defensively. “He—! He’s been avoiding the question.”

All of us shared a glance and some of us hummed.

Dougie asked. “Any fives?”

“You know, statistically and due to England’s current standpoint on divorce— Darren is less likely to actually ask his wife for a divorce. There is an even lesser probability that the divorce would even be granted in a court of law—” 

The four of us girls shouted. “Go fish!”

“--because we’re obsessed with this “Christian purity.” And, his wife would have to be the adulterer. And as it stands right now only he has—!” Horace was spewing before he was cut off. His face contorting in pain before hunching over. 

Collectively, we all glanced at Tina, who was not holding up well. 

This was not going good, and the urge to tell her that I told her so, was not helping. She should just dump him, but eh, who was I to judge? 

I cleared my throat before holding my ciggie away from my lips, and asking through an exhale, “Anyone got any Queens?”

Cassie didn’t hesitate to give me two. I took the two I had in my hands and laid the four cards on the table. 

“Anyone got any nines?”

Angie threw one of her cards to me. Cassie passed it to me before looking over to Tina.

She said. “Well, Tina. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll support you. If ya want to stay with him, or leave him. We’ll be right here for ya.” 

All of us tried comforting her ‘n all we managed to get was a small smile in return. It didn’t reach her eyes, I knew that. However, I really wanted to have a good time so I was looking to change the subject. 

‘Just—! Anyone please talk about anything else!’

As I inhaled, I asked. “Any threes?”

“Go fish!”

I tsked.

I was laying down on the floor with Horace. Our arms were extended up in the air and we laid opposite to each other, if that made sense. Like basically, our heads were right next to each other. 

Our arms were in the air because I was playing with Horace’s fingers. Angie, Tina, Cassie, and Dougie were either sitting on the sofas/couches, or somewhere else in the room. He was a little drunk and wanted to calm down, so I offered to stay with him.

“So, how are things going with Angie, buddy?” I asked while still playing with his fingers.

He sighed and then chuckled. “Better. I think she… I think she’s beginning to like me back.”

I hummed and chuckled under my breath. “Well, don’t get too cocky there. She’ll knock back down a peg or two if she finds out that you’re feeling like that.”

Horace scoffed. “Don’t I know it. Hey! The only way she’d find out is if you tell her!”

My eyes widened and I spluttered rolling over to my sides. When I calmed down, I repositioned myself and grabbed hold of his fingers again. I sighed. “Well, that’s true but I promise I’ve never told her a thing.”

That’s a blag, I’m almost certain. It probably slipped from my tongue from time to time. 

I was running my fingertips over his short-cut fingernails while blowing raspberries. I took a deep breath before asking, “Well, you guys went on that date like last week, right? Angie’s told us some things, but how’d it go from your perspective?”

He blew raspberries before replying, “I think it went rather well. I mean she actually paid attention to me this time.”

I couldn’t help but snicker. “Oh my god, Horace!”

“It’s true! This time I felt like she was actually like looking at me. I don’t know. She’s hard to read sometimes, but it’s endearing, really.”

“So, you’re saying that you like the mysterious side to her?”

“Yeah. Yeah, in a way, I am.”

“So, if you discover all there is to her, do you think you will lose interest in her?”

Horace and I grew quiet. His arms flopped down to his side which I repeated. I rolled over to my side, an arm supporting my head as my other hand scratched away at the rug.

Horace mimicked how I was laying, so that we were facing each other, and he sighed through his nose. “I don’t think I’ll ever know everything about her. People typically evolve over time as do their curiosities and interests. So, I don’t think you nor I nor Angie will ever fully know one another. However, to answer your question, no, I don’t think I would lose interest in her even if I knew everything about her. I—! I’ve been in love with her since I was a child, so it would be pretty odd if I were to just lose interest once we were together. I mean, then why the hell did I waste all these years pinning after her. You know?”

I hummed and nodded. “I feel that.” I continued picking at the rug. “Hey, Horace?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, um. Basically, you know what, nevermind, it’s dumb.”

“No, come on. Ask me.”

“No—”

“Just ask me.”

I sighed and looked down. “Well, I wanted to ask you since you’re a guy ‘n all. Um, why doesn’t Tommy like me?”

Horace’s tongue swiped over his bottom lip as he jerked his body around a little. Basically, shaking on his side like a mermaid out of water would, but not as violent. “Now, Aliena. Do you want an honest answer, or do you just want one that will solidify the ideas you already have in your head?”

I chuckled, a small smile spreading across my face before I shouted. “Both!”

Horace rolled over to his back and I inched closer to him. I hovered above him as he spoke. “Okay, then. The honest answer is, well, why does anyone not reciprocate a person’s love? It could simply be because you’re not the person’s type, or there could be any other extenuating circumstance. Why—? Why does Angie not acknowledge my love when I’m obviously ready to give her my all? She just has her reasons. Now, I’m not her nor am I your Tommy, so I can’t speak for him. I don’t know why he won’t look your way. Only he could truly tell you.”

I blinked, my mood souring. I took a deep breath and reached up to fiddle with the collar of his white dress shirt. “And the answer that would solidify my thoughts?” I whispered.

We stared into each other’s eyes as he replied. “You met him too early in life. You met him too early in life, and now all he can see is that 16 year old girl. Not to mention the 12 year age gap! I mean it would probably be nothing, if the both of you had met now, as you are 20 and he’s 32, but you met when you were 16 and 28. I—! Don’t get me wrong a lot of men would have gotten with you being 28 and you being 16. So, regretfully, I have to applaud the man.”

I rolled my eyes.

“It’s the truth, Ali. Men are—! Men aren’t the best. I’ve learned more than enough of the struggle women go through because of men from Angie, believe me!”

“Oh, I believe you!”

We chuckled before falling to a silence. 

Horace continued. “There’s also your personality!”

My jaw dropped and my face contorted. I smacked his chest as I gasped. “What’s wrong with my personality!”

He raised his arms and tried defending himself from my attacks. A big ol’ smile on his face. “Ali, you’re very affectionate! Do you know that? God, I’d have believed that Cassie would have fought with you if she didn’t know about Tommy. It’s honestly rather settling to know that you actually have your heart set on someone ‘cause you’d have fooled the rest of us!”

I pouted. Still fiddling with his collar, I asked in a childish voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you flirt with everyone in the group. You know that, right? You sit on Douglas’s lap. You sit on my lap! You sit on Angie’s! You kiss us on the cheek. Dougie kisses your cheek or temple. Then, there’s your unique fashion sense. I’m not judging your choice to display what God gave you. Angie would kill me if I did! But, you can even ask Douglas, we—! Well, I! Don’t regard you all that innocent, anymore. If you get what I mean, I—!”

I waved my hands as a way to stop him from tripping himself over his words even more. “I, I know what you’re trying to say. I get it all the time. Your point is?”

Horace took a deep breath before rubbing his forehead and letting his hand rest there. “Well, don’t you think that a person will just either get used to the affection or eventually grow annoyed by it?”

I’m regretting talking to him entirely.

“I don’t act like that with him, Horace. He’s still my boss, you know. I—! I could never!”

His eyes widened. “O-Oh! Then, disregard that last statement. Uh...”

I mean, but I have thought about that. I debated whether or not my compassion and love for the man was being taken for granted. Well, that he was manipulating me into like placating his feelings. I’m more used to that treatment coming from girls. You know, they act like they’re sad just so that I can comfort them— that sort of thing! I don’t deny that it’s crossed my mind.

Horace cleared his throat. “Well, then, perhaps he’s the sort of man that can’t handle you. You’re very independent and upbeat. I mean you can be serious when the moment calls for it, but you’re quick to giggle. Maybe he just wants a damsel in distress. Maybe he wants a more serious, proud woman. Proud being opposite to your “down to earthness.” Is what I’m trying to say.”

I snickered. “Uh… Right, okay? That was a whole lot in a small package. Um, right, okay then! Well, thank you for giving me your most honest answers, sir.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome, madam.”

I snickered away while cringing and then stuck my tongue out at him. Eventually, we got up from the floor and rejoined the group. We chatted away while sipping our bevvies, and nursed our cigarettes before finding ourselves seated on the couches. 

Tina and Cassie were sitting on the couch opposite to Dougie and I. I was sitting rather close to him with my legs draped over his thighs. His right hand rested on my thigh while I ran my fingers through the back of his hair. 

Ah! I see what Horace was talking about. Yeah, all those Tik toks ‘n shit are coming back to me. Maybe I should ask Cassie how she feels about my touchiness? Oh, I definitely should. Great! Fucking dammit! Why did my love language have to be physical touch? 

He was telling me about his week when Angie’s voice was growing increasingly more loud by the second. She was pacing back ‘n forth in front of Horace, who was sitting on the arm of the couch.

Angie groaned exaggeratedly before snapping her fingers and shouting, “Ali, Ali! What about your opinion, eh? How do you feel living in these times while looking the way you do? Acting the way you do?”

I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced at both Cassie and Dougie. They both gave me shrugs. I sighed before pushing some of my hair away from my face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a drink in her right hand and waving about her left, she said. “Well, I mean you don’t conform to beauty standards. Right? Your hair is still very long, you typically wear what you want to wear. You enhance your curves and you know, embrace the waves in your hair. I mean that’s almost the total opposite of the way women dress today.”

I get that I was out of tune with the modern style, but she was making it sound like I was trying to be some sort of trendsetter.

I giggled and waved a hand and dismissed her comment. “I don’t know what to say. I wear what I want to wear. I—!”

“Exactly! Exactly. You wear what you want to wear. And, and you scrap with men. You fight your own battles. I mean—!”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Angie, Angie, wait a minute. I—! Look, we live one life. I intend on living it how I want. That’s all.”

She nodded. “I know! Exactly and that’s what I love about you. You don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks. You live your life the way you want, and I don’t know... Well, like tell us—! No, tell me how you do all this without worrying about snagging a man.”

Ah! And the other shoe drops. 

I sighed and rubbed my left eye. “Ah, okay. There we go, something I can answer. First and foremost, I dress and act however I want regardless of how a man sees me. How he chooses to warp me in his head, in anyone one’s head, is their problem. I will talk, dress, act, laugh anyway I want because at the end of the day— I have to live with myself and love myself. That’s how I go about my business.”

She began clapping and nodding, her lips pursed. 

Oh god, she was tipsy.

Angie snapped her fingers. “Exactly. And! And the beauty standards men put on us and other women expect each other to uphold is ridiculous. Like how the hell is one figure more attractive than another. Women are—! Women, men, everybody should be appreciated. Why, Why do we have to favor one type more over the other? I-I mean, I understand preferences but to subject people to a set criteria when some of us aren’t even capable of accomplishing that standard. It’s—! It’s preposterous.”

Angie raised her free hand to her forehead and she scratched it. “Take Aliena and Cassie for example, they can’t become more flat-chested. They can’t make them smaller. Nor, nor can they help their curvy figures! Why should society tell them to, you know, bind their breasts or something. Or to hide their figures in loose fitted clothing! They’re beautiful! Beautiful!”

All of us shared a glance at one another before bursting with laughter. We laughed so much that I’m sure all of our stomachs ached in pain. 

Through her laughter, Cassied rasped. “Angie, Angie sit the fuck down ‘n take a breather, hon’! For the love of...”

I chimed in. “Yes, please sit down before you blow a casket ‘n like faint or some shit.”

Angie pouted through a smile and plopped down on the couch. “I’m just saying. I mean Aliena, you exercise, right? Like, you work out in a way that a man does. Not just take strolls or ride bikes.”

I wiped under my eyes before nodding ‘n sniffling. “Yeah, I do. I exercise for myself. I don’t do it to please society or any man. I do it for me.” I shrugged my shoulders and turned my attention back to Dougie’s hair.

Angie snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “Thank you. I love you. Thank you. And that’s why I want to tear down Hollywood.”

“Ah—!” I snickered and shook my head before blowing her a kiss.

After that fiasco, things called down a bit ‘n I went back to talking to Dougie. He was tapping my thigh when he quickly picked up his head and said, “You know I finished developing the photos.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “The photos…? Oh, shit! The photos! How’d they come out?”

Some weeks ago, Dougie bought this camera and wanted to practice his photography skills. He loved the art, but it could never be his main job, for obvious reasons. His father was passing on the company to him, so we all know how that goes. Anyway, I made the suggestion that the gang could be like his practice models ‘n eventually I got everyone to agree.

It was fun, obviously! I helped position everyone and of course, I had to sneak in some 21st century gestures. I just hated that I wouldn’t be alive to see my grandbabies’ faces. I’ll break the timeline, just for this reason. To fuck with my descendents. 

During the day, we went to an empty grassland area and had like a cottagecore photoshoot. It was fucking fantastic! One thing from my bucket list I was lucky to complete. But at night, it was a more risque photoshoot. And yes, even Horace participated in it. I made him as did Angie.

Dougie smiled and nodded. “I think they came out to be pretty good. I’ll bring them next time. It just slipped my mind today.”

I psh-ed him and shoved his head away from me before throwing my head back in a cackle. We talked a bit more before I beckoned somewhere else. I eventually made it back to Cassie, and I was sitting on the couch while she was on the floor. I was messing around with her hair. Right now, I was making a bunch of braids. 

Cassie was eating some fruit while she was talking to Angie. “Okay, but like who was your first kiss?”

Angie hummed through hooded eyes with an arm hanging in the air. “Oh, it was Tina.”

I spluttered and began spazzing out. I scurried off the couch and started running around the room while shouting over and over again. “No way! No way! No fucking way!”

Cassie joined my freak out session by rolling around on the floor and slapping the couch behind her, where I was previously sitting. When I felt calm enough, I ran back to my spot.

I shouted. “No fucking way!”

Angie chortled. “What? Why is it such a big deal?”

“Uh...” Cassie and I just looked at each other. In an American accent, I said. “Well, I mean. I don’t wanna be a bitch, but like when I felt met y’all… You guys were kinda sus. Like Tina, full truth, I thought you had a humongous crush on Angie ‘n yeah so, um, yeah. Did y’all date or…?”

Angie’s eyes widened and she rose from Tina’s lap, who was stunned, by the way. Angie snatched a pillow from the couch and chucked it at me. 

“She’s. Just. Shy. And we were kids when we just did it! It was innocent.” Angie yelled. 

I cried out when the pillow hit me. Through my laughter, I replied. “I’m sorry!”

Angie huffed as she laid back down on Tina’s lap. “Yeah, yeah. You’re not the only one to think it. People just get the wrong idea. She’s just shy.” Angie reached up and caressed Tina’s face. “Oh, we’ve both kissed Horace, too.”

My jaw dropped and a hand flew over my mouth. I looked at Cassie and Dougie, who were just as shocked as me. I screamed into my hand and began running around the room again, only this time I wasn’t alone. Dougie was running in the opposite direction of me. 

He zipped over to Horace while I tackled Cassie on the couch. Well, I more like got her in a headlock ‘n swung her around a bit as I settled onto the couch. 

Tina groaned, averting her gaze from us before running a hand through her hair. She asked. “Well, who were your guys’s first kiss?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Ugh, I guess my first kiss was with my childhood best friend too. Name was Brooklyn.”

“Mine was with Mary, she was a classmate.” Cassie replied.

Angie tsked. “See a girl, right? Why are you harping on us for?”

Cassie and I just shrugged. It was like we had this silent agreement that we weren’t gonna bring up the fact that we kissed each other on the lips as a greeting and a farewell.

“Hey, do you guys think I would look hotter with blonde hair?” I asked.

They all began telling me what they thought. 

Later in the night, we just went wild ‘n I was happy for it. Michael and Arthur didn’t cross my mind once. We blasted our records, danced the night away while chatting, drinking, and smoking away.

I was overwhelmed with emotions at the end of the night because—… Because I never thought I would have a friend group like this, and now that I did— it was surreal. I genuinely felt that I wouldn’t be in the mental state I was in, if they weren’t in my life.

They made everything that much better. I was always happy with Tommy, but that feeling was contorting into something else now. You know? It was becoming increasingly more platonic, and as much as that should feel liberating— it frightened me. 

I have a million reasons why I held out for him for this long and why it frightens me so, and I’m not going to dwell on them. To be honest, I think the moment he did reciprocate my feelings and he told me, I probably would numb myself immediately. I would just be in such a state of shock that I’d deny his feelings ‘n just move the fuck on. 

‘I mean that’s what is expected of me, right?’ 

Since I am the way that I am. I can’t just blame it on social media’s influence. I mean when I imagined the scenario I end up cringing a ton, and I send myself into like a “tic fit.” It’s the best I can describe it. 

Anyhow, back to how the night went! We got super drunk, super high, and probably pissed off Cassie’s neighbors but we settled down at like three or four in the morning. The people living downstairs were most likely the most grateful since we were jumping around like crazy people. 

We, collectively, all crawled onto Cassie’s bed ‘n knocked out. I was probably the first to sleep. I’m not going to tell ya a blag. It was completely plausible. But, what I loved most about tonight— it was that I was surrounded by people who loved me. It was warm and I felt safe. Something I wasn’t even able to feel in my own home at times when I was back in my own universe. 

Cassie was the big spoon while I was the little, and Dougie was her big spoon. I made sure to avoid being in the middle anymore. I talked to Cassie and she was fine with my touching. She said I showed her the same amount of attention, and she knew I didn’t fancy him— so we were good.

However, I didn’t want to interfere with a perfectly good moment. So, I chose to be on the outside while Cassie was in the middle. Yeah, that didn’t stop her from cuddling me instead. I was too intoxicated and tired to tell her to cuddle Dougie instead.

When I woke up, I found it to be fairly early in the morning because the sky was grey. There’s a difference to the 6 am sky and the 8 am sky, okay! I didn’t get up right away. I wanted to savor the tranquility that surrounded me for a little while longer. But like all sweet things, they must come to an end.

My guess is that I was probably stirring around too much by accident ‘n woke up Cassie, who inadvertently awoke Dougie. I tried coaxing her back to sleep, but it was too late for the both of them. Begrudgingly, I inched my way off the bed and strolled over to the table.  

Dougie was right behind me. I could hear his loud yawn from behind me, and then his hands gently fell on top of my head. My head bobbled as he kissed the top of my head. 

“Mornin’, Ali.”

I smiled and while my head did a little dance, I replied. “Morning, Dougie.”

He pulled out a chair for me before going to sit on his own. While gripping the arms of the chair, I scooted closer to the table. I craned my head back to see Cassie on the phone, no doubt ordering food. 

We really didn’t begin talking till the food came. I think we were just still sleepy, but food and orange juice helped. Horace was the first to get up ‘n he attacked the bacon. Then, it was Tina and finally, Angie. Who was very grumpy, by the way. So not happy about being awake.

I don’t know how it happened, but eventually we broke out into a food fight. It was awesome.

“Oi! Fucking watch it!” I exclaimed as I narrowly dodged a ketchup covered egg. I knew it was covered in ketchup ‘cause I saw Tina drown them in it. I grabbed a syrup-soaked waffle and chucked it at Dougie.

It got him right on the side of his face. He exclaimed and his face contorted in disgust. My mouth immediately contorted into deep frown ‘n my eyebrows raised, and when his crazed eyes found mine— I gasped. My gasp was so deep like a man’s that I hurt my throat doing it. 

I held my hands up as I croaked. “Wait.” He inched closer to me. “Wait! Wait!” I turned my back and started running. Something you should know about me, I never liked being chased. It gave me another type of anxiety and happiness— it was so weird. 

Eventually, Dougie caught me and we started wrestling with each other. Through our grunts, I heard the phone ring and Cassie hopped across the room to get to it. She landed on the bed and crawled to the phone. While sitting on her knees, she answered the phone.

I turned my attention back to Dougie and tried crawling away from him as he attacked my sides. It wasn’t my tickle spot, but I laughed at the pain of his fingers digging into my sides, nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry!” I yelled. “I’m sorry! I give, now cut it out.” 

Dougie loosened his hold and sat up on his knees, flipping his bangs to one side as he did so. I didn’t hesitate to get up on my feet. 

“Never!” He shouted. “You got syrup on my face.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. I playfully yelled as I charged at him ‘n I barely managed to get him into a headlock when Cassie shouted for me. She motioned the phone toward me, and my smile dropped as did my hold on Dougie.

I walked over to the phone and brought it to my ear. While taking some of the hair that fell into my mouth, I said. “Hello?”

“Aliena, love.” Polly sniffled before continuing, “Thank god you’re alright. Um, I need you to come home, darling.”

“Polly, you’re crying. What’s happened?” I’m only half-ashamed to admit that I was exaggerating my concern. Hard to actually experience when I already knew what was up.

“It’s Michael. He’s been arrested. You need to come home to the house in Small Heath. We’re gonna have a family meeting.”

“Is Tom there yet?”

Polly sniffled again before replying, “No, not yet. You still have time before it begins, so come quickly. Love you.”

“Love you too. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hung up the phone and looked back at my mates. They were all looking at me concernedly. I waved my finger around before finding the words. “I, uh… I need to go. Cassie, can you tell Simmons—!”

She nodded. “Of course.” Cass instantly grabbed the phone and began calling him. 

I glanced at my mates one more time before walking over to the closet. I put on this off-white frock with some black heels. I didn’t fix my hair up or put on any makeup. I just packed up my things, threw on my coat, and hurried out the door. I bade everyone farewell before leaving.

I ran out of the car and into the house. I threw my backpack on the couch before shouting, “Polly, I’m here!”

Faintly, I could hear Polly gasp and then we met each other halfway in the kitchen. She pulled me into a hug and squeezed the breath right out of me. 

“Thank god!” She said. “Thank god you’re okay.” Polly parted from our hug ‘n began stroking my hair and face. 

Footsteps coming from my right caught my attention, and I hugged Finn, John, and Esme as they came up to me. All us exchanging words about how we were all glad that one another was okay. John caught me up to date as Polly was fawning over me. 

She couldn’t stop stroking my hair and kissing my temple. I didn’t mind it, but everything she did was exemplified since I wasn’t used to this sort of treatment from her. Well, I was ‘n it always happened in some sad event in our lives, and that’s probably what’s upsetting me the most. 

I managed to get her to sit down, and smoked a ciggie with her. Tom sure took his time coming home. It took him, perhaps, twenty to thirty minutes later before he strided through the kitchen and into the shop. 

I stubbed my ciggie out, just as Tom said. “John?”

“Coppers have lifted 10 of our men in Camden town, the rest of them on the run.” He replied.

Finn added. “Tom, they've taken Michael.” 

Polly rose from her seat and walked closer to the family and I followed suit, taking the opposite door to lean on. 

Tom waved Finn off saying, “Business first.”

“They took Michael— ”

“I said business first.”

“They picked him up—!”

“Polly, business first!”

‘Great! Went from having an awesome time last night to an anxiety ridden morning. I love my life. Wow, way to make it about myself. I’m amazing!’

Tom gave Pol one last look before asking John to continue. Polly looked vulnerable. She looked, sorry to say, pitiful. She was desperate to help Michael, but— obviously, Tom had an agenda he was intending to follow.

John continued. “They took all our whisky. So no doubt they'll be supping that for Christmas. They've impounded all our vans, put their own locks on the warehouse. The Eden Club and all our pubs have been raided by the coppers and handed back to Sabini and Solomons. The Black Country boys think it was Arthur who killed Billy because that's what the coppers told them. So there'll be no more free passes for our whisky boats.”

“I don't give a fuck about whisky. I don't give a fuck about Billy Kitchen.” Polly said as she walked over to the table and began to lightly slam her hand down on it as she spoke, “I want my son out of prison now.”

Esme decided to speak up, at the wrong time. “Thomas, I spoke to Johnny Dogs.”

“This meeting should just be family.” Polly insisted.

‘Ah—! Ma’am, the fuck does that make me? Oh, wait, family! You, idiot, you.’

“I can help.”

“-It's family only, she's not blood.”

“Let her speak.” Tom interjected, but Polly kept on going.

“Tommy! Or is this a business… How you forgotten family—!”

“ENOUGH!”

My hand flew to my mouth and I swear to God, my heart sank to my arse. ‘Holy fuck is the wrong, but holy hell is it erotic!’

I was given the side eye by multiple people in the room, and I quickly numbed my feelings. Faster than I ever had to before. I stood up straight and cleared my throat.

Tom looked back at Polly as he said. “Enough, Polly. Esme.”

“I spoke to Johnny Dogs. The Lees are kin.”

“The bloody Lees!” Polly exclaimed

“They can give us men.”

“We don't need more fucking men! It's men that have done the damage! It's… It is men fighting like cockerels that have put us here in the first place.”

Tommy said. “Esme, I'll take up their offer. We need men.”

There was this pregnant silence that stilled between all of us, and it made me bounce on my heels. 

Polly pointedly stared at Tommy, inching closer to him as she said. “If Michael ever gets out of prison, I am taking him away from this family, for good.” She took a step back from Tom and waved her hands around her. “This life is bad.”

Polly walked over to Finn ‘n grabbed him by the arm. “This life is all bad.” She began dragging him away and made a beeline for me. Pol gripped my arm ‘n began pulling me away too.

“Ah!” I exclaimed as my feet skidded across the floor.

“Aunt Pol, what’re you doin’?” Finn cried out as we were both being tugged away.

“Shut up and walk.”

I managed to crane my head back for one last look at Tom before Pol had tugged Finn and I out of the house. Tommy didn’t meet my gaze. 

Polly ushered us in her car and drove us to the house in Sutton. She ordered us to stay in the house, but I knew where she was going. I saw her make a call, which went on for sometime, before she darted for the door. 

I think she was calling Ada.

I grabbed her arm as she turned to leave. “Polly, wait! Where are you going?”

She sighed before taking my face into her hands. “I’m going to go see if I can get my son out by myself. Thomas isn’t going to help, so I’m doing this on my own.” Polly stroked the side of my face as she looked into my eyes.

“Don’t go...” I whispered.

Pol sucked on her teeth before shaking her head. I gripped her wrists as they were still close to my face and said. “I can—! I can call someone. My mates can help. They’re Michael’s mates too, so I’m sure they won’t mind.”

She shook her head and gently tugged her hands away from my face. I let her wrists go without hesitation. With one hand on my shoulder, and the other waving around as she talked, she said. “No. No, I can’t have your friends knowing about this side of the family. They’re different from us ‘n they need to have the best image of you they can. I will deal with this on my own. I will deal with this on my own as I’ve always done.” 

Polly quickly kissed my forehead and left just as I was about to continue to beg her not to. I ran after her, but my reaction time was a little too late since she was already in the car. I shouted after her, but she took off.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t—! I couldn’t interfere when she didn’t want me to, so I just walked back into the house ‘n focused on taking care of Finn. We spent our time talking and playing card games. I finished making our lunch when Ada showed up. I knew she’d show up. ‘Cause of the episode, of course. 

She brought Karl, which made everything better ‘n brighter for a while.

I  spent time playing with the baby and catching up with Ada. Eventually, I left Ada alone with Finn since I’m sure she’d wanted to talk to him alone. I had the maid make dinner ‘n eventually sent Finn’s lanky butt up to a room. Had the maid prepare it for him beforehand.  Ada and I talked into the night till Karl grew tired. 

She took another room and retired for the night. On the other hand, I only went up stairs to change into something more comfortable, then I went back down to wait for Polly to come back home. I basically wore a nightgown and put my hair into a ponytail. 

I knew Polly was going to want to take a bath ‘n I wanted to be the one to help her. It was only right since she’d helped me when I needed it. 

I hated myself. I hated myself. I could’ve tried harder. I could’ve used better words to persuade her. I could’ve—!

Polly stumbled in at around eleven o’clock at night. I sprang up from the couch ‘n she didn’t even make a fuss about the fact I was up. Pol stumbled into my arms with the stench of alcohol on her breath. 

“Ali my love!” She slurred as she leaned all her body weight on me.

I muffled a groan as I held her up. 

Polly picked herself up a bit and slapped her hands on my face. I flinched at the force she put behind it. 

“Beautiful...” She whispered. “Absolutely beautiful...” Her thumbs roughly wiped the space under my eyes. Bringing them up and down and stretched back. 

“Polly,” I whispered. “What’s happened?”

Her head jerked back and she stumbled away from me. Averting my gaze, she replied. “Is done. Michael with—! Michael will be out within, at, in the morning.”

I smiled and clapped my hands in front of my mouth. “That’s great news, Polly!”

She smiled and nodded, drunkenly. Like she was nodding like a bobble head, someone who wasn’t in control of their motor functions. Polly’s gaze drifted to the side and she pointed to the tub. “Were you gonna take a bath?”

I shook my head. “Oh, no. I thought about it, but then I was waiting for you to come home. I had the fire lit. Why? Did you want to take a bath?”

Polly stumbled forward and gripped my arms, steadying herself before she nodded. “Yes. Yeah. Ali, darling, can you be so kind… And help me?”

I nodded, my eyebrows furrowing in concern. I ran to the kitchen and filled up the bucket for hot water. This house actually had a water heater ‘n that meant hot water from the tap. I had to make a few trips back ‘n forth but it was quicker than it would’ve been at the other house. 

“Alright, all done.” I turned back to Polly, who was sitting on the couch as she gazed into the fire. Her head shot up when I spoke. I turned around as a way to give her the privacy she needed to undress. 

I could sense her walking toward the tub and I turned my body more to the left while closing my eyes. Slowly, I got down to my knees ‘n sat on them. I wanted to give her the respect she deserved. The water sloshed as she dipped her body in the tub.

“Can you pass me the soap and sponge, love?” Polly asked me.

My eyes fluttered open instantly and I crawled to where I had placed the body soap and sponge earlier. I reached up for them and then crawled back over to her before giving them to her.

I sort of just sat there as she bathed herself. Her movements were sluggish and looked to be done with great difficulty. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted to pry. I wanted her to open up to me and just cry about it. I didn’t want her to keep it in. However, I knew that was wrong, so I just picked at the carpet below me. 

Eventually, I couldn’t stand doing nothing and I asked her if I could shampoo her hair. She gave me a sloth-like smile and gave me permission. I reached up for the shampoo, took off my sheer robe, and shuffled on my knees around the tub. 

Polly leaned forward to give me some room. I scooped up some of the water from the tub using the pitcher and poured it along her hairline, slowly making my way to the back of her scalp. 

Shampooing someone else’s hair was always something comforting to me. I did Cassie’s hair all the time as she did mine. It was a type of intimacy that was more innocent than others types. 

I began humming something from Billie Holiday. I didn’t know the song by heart, but I knew some of the words ‘n rhythm enough. I was rinsing her hair when Polly’s shoulders began to shake. Muffled sobs escaped her nose as she shakily took deep breaths. 

I didn’t know what to do or say. I didn’t know if it was appropriate to touch her and hug her, so I asked. I asked if it was alright if I hugged her. Like a child, she nodded through her sobs. 

I hugged Polly from behind. She was wet, I knew that. I was painfully aware of the new sensation of my dress sticking to my body and her cold hair against my cheek. Everything in my being was screaming and begging me to launch myself backward, away from her— but my heart was pleading for me to do the opposite. 

My heart wanted to absorb her pain, and it was my heart that won. I choked back my tears. I didn’t have the right to shed them. I could’ve saved her from this pain. I could’ve prevented this. But, ultimately when I blinked, they slipped down my cheeks. 

I didn’t pry, I stayed true to my word. We composed ourselves simultaneously and silently. 

“Love?” 

I wiped my nose on my arm before answering, “Yes?”

“Can you get me a cigarette? They’re in my purse.”

I nodded as I muttered. “Of course.” I rose to my feet and walked over to her purse, which was on the sofa. I put one in my mouth and lit it. With it still hanging off my lips, I took a quick puff as I grabbed the ashtray. I placed it on the stool that had the soaps on top, and then passed Polly her ciggie.

I walked back around to the chair that was behind her ‘n admired the fire crackling. Ada came in not too long after. I left… 

Truthfully, I didn’t know why I left. 

I trudged up the stairs all the way to my room. I closed the door behind me and slid down it.

I felt like a complete piece of shit and hollow and empty. My face scrunched up in a sob, but no tears came out. There was this increasingly more painful headache forcing me to acknowledge it, and with it came anger and annoyance. I wanted to punch the walls. I wanted to throw stuff around. I wanted to kill Campbell for what he’s done to this family.

I wanted his blood. I wanted to slit his throat. I wanted to bite a chunk of his neck out. I wanted…

I heaved a deep breath and found it still difficult to breathe. I crawled forward on all fours with one hand supporting my weight while the other clutched my throat. I took deep breaths till finally I couldn’t take it anymore. 

I had to release these emotions inside of me. The need to punish myself became overwhelming, and my eyes flickered to the suitcase that laid under my bed. 

I shook my head. ‘I couldn’t afford any marks’ I thought. 

With my other job, my body is a tool ‘n any harm to it hinders my ability to get it done. 

So, I yanked the straps of my gown down and let it fall under my waist. Ferociously, I began to claw away at my neck, arms, and stomach. The burn. The burn was what I needed. 

And when I stopped, the pain took over but as much as it meant everything— it was also nothing. 

Slowly, I brought the straps of my gown back up to my shoulders, rose to my feet, and sauntered over to my bed. I climbed in it and just laid there while staring at the lamp that was always on at my desk. I fell asleep, eventually…

The next morning, Polly came into my room ‘n asked if I wanted to come with her to go ‘n get Michael. I felt like she wanted me to go with her, so I said I’d go. While dressing up, I was glad to see that none of the scratches I’d made scarred up. 

I made sure to dress warmly since we would be going out so early in the morning and then we headed off to pick him up. We didn’t make any conversation during the drive or as we waited for him to come out. 

But nothing— and I mean nothing, could tear my eyes away from the scarf around her neck. 

I chose to lean against the wall as we waited while Polly was pacing back ‘n forth on the pavement. When Michael walked out, the first thing I noticed was the ugly bruise on his right cheek. Then, I noticed the little cuts all around his face. The need to comfort him was strong, but he walked straight toward his mother while smoking a ciggie.

“You need cream on them cuts or they'll go bad.” Polly said to ‘em.

Michael didn’t reply. He took a drag before saying, “The screws told me why I've been freed. They told me what you did.”

Polly looked away from Michael. Her gaze found mine, and she hurriedly looked away from me too. Polly stared straight on, instead. 

“They thought it was funny.” He continued. Michael took another puff before he said. “Maybe it is.”

The urge to degrade and make someone cry had never been activated so fast in me before now. I glared at Michael as he walked away. My blood boiled with each step he took.

With my foot, I launched myself away from the wall and walked to Polly’s side. I put a hand on her shoulder and whispered. “C’mon. Let’s go. He probably needs time is all.”

Polly said nothing, but allowed me to lead her over to the car.

Michael eventually had to come home, and he had the audacity to knock at my door. Of course, I let him in but only to give him a piece of my mind. 

“Do you even know what she did?” He shouted.

“She got you out, didn’t she? Why should you care how?” I shouted back.

“She fucked Campbell to get me out. She prostituted herself!”

I pretended to process it and be shocked before I continued. “And? So fucking what? Who are you to say that it was funny, huh? Fucking bastard! Fucking ungrateful prick!” 

I wanted to put my hands on him so badly, but I resorted to punching my palms repeatedly instead. As well as folding in on myself.

I whipped my hair back and ran a hand through my hair. 

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t see anything wrong with that? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Of course there’s something wrong with that! Campbell abused his position and abused his powers. He raped your mother!”

His face fell.

I scoffed. “Did you actually think I would side with you? Oh, fuck you, Michael. I would’ve done the same for me own son and so much more. She did that out of desperation ‘n fear ‘n pure maternal love! And—! And, you threw it back ‘n her face! I mean look at you, Michael. How much more of that could you have withstood?”

“All of it! I would have taken every beating… Every fucking—!” Michael choked up and rose his fists over his eyes. 

I averted my gaze. My tongue prodded the inside of my cheek as I violently shook my right leg. I tsked before rushing toward Michael and pulled him into a hug. Weakly, he hugged me back. 

Muffled, I said. “I’m not the one who has to forgive you for the things you said, but me and you are not alright right now. And I need you to respect the fact I need some time to process and get over what you said to her. It was very insensitive and I don’t play when it comes to situations like that. I don’t care about the excuse. You should have comforted her or each other when you were given the chance.” I parted from the hug and turned around. 

I didn’t turn back around till I heard my door shut from behind me.

About a week and a half has passed since Michael’s release and we’re still not on good terms. He hasn’t apologized to Polly for what he said, so obviously I wasn’t going to just sweep that shit under the rug. Little shit would have no idea how much restraint it took to not slap him across the face!

Of course I encourage him to “get it over with” and “clear the air.” But the stubborn twat was like his mum, and he refused to do so. It was like that conversation we had went in one ear and out the other. So, I’ve just steered clear of ‘em. Pissed me off just looking at him.

Anyway, John and I went to visit Arthur in jail. He was pretty rough, but when was Arthur not? We just visited him to see him. Tommy didn’t have a plan drawn up yet. Other than that, I’ve been busy with work. Legit and side hustle alike. 

Since the coppers fucked with the inventory, Tommy needed my help with the numbers and had me running around more often. At the same time, Dom gave me hit orders every other day. 

Some of the hit orders were during the day as well! I had to run off to get that job done, then hurry back to Small Heath. I’m just lucky nobody gets on my arse. Tommy could, no doubt there, but he was busy himself and I got the job done anyway. 

I knew he had some Peaky men or juniors watching me, for my “protection.” I knew they told him what I was doing, where I was going, but they never found out what I did. I had to let Dom know what was going on at home, and he helped me get away from them. 

Was it suspicious? Short answer, yes. 

Not like I could stop the side, though. The second season was coming to an end soon and what happens on Derby Day determines if I’m staying in this family or not. I, myself, don’t even know what to expect. 

I mean, it’s obvious he’s going to sleep with Grace and knock her up. What the fuck did I even want to happen? Did I want him to just confess to me and we get together instead? Well, of course, I want that to happen! But it’s not. And I can’t even see Tommy doing something as cringy as that. Yes, cringy.

The idea of him just springing on a confession on me still made me cringe up. My feelings have never been recuperated, so if they were to finally be mutual— there’s a good chance I wouldn’t have the romantic reaction I would be hoping for. Sad truth, but what could I do? Not like I had control over what my crushes felt. 

So, basically, if Grace is pregnant— I’ll quietly go away. I haven’t brought it up to Cassie yet, but I’m planning on slumming it with her. Just for a while, I know I have enough money to buy a house of my own. I would probably get Dom to do it for me, though, since I had no idea how to do it. 

If Tom tried to find me, then I’d just hide at Dom’s place. I’m sure he’d let me. On the topic of Tom, though— I missed him. Like talking to him, bugging him, and especially seeing his face. I was being deprived of my daily dose of serotonin. It was a crime!

Despite all that, today was a night of relaxation. I’d planned to go out with my mates, but since it’d be too dangerous to go South— they had to come to me. Ridiculous, I know but Tom insisted on the idea the last time I saw him. Even though I’d been going all around the fucking country for a week and a half.

We were in the snug at the Garrison. Smoking a few cigs while sipping on our bevvies. It was a girls’ night despite the fact that Finn was here. Let him have two pints, and that was it. He was still working on his first like a good lad. 

Angie spat. “I mean who the fuck does that bitch think she is? Just because her mum is a famous pianist doesn’t mean she is too! Dumb dora doesn’t know about key or pitch to save her life.”

I raised my eyebrows and slurped my bevvy. I smacked my mouth before asking. “Hey, Ange. How are you and Horace?”

Her movements faltered and a smile crept up on her face. I gasped and my hand shot over my mouth.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, are you two finally dating? Are youse dating?” My hand flew back to Cassie’s arm and I gripped it while shaking her. She was just as excited as I was.

Angie couldn’t meet my gaze to save her life. “I-! We… Yeah, we’re dating. I, I said yes.”

All of us girls squealed and congratulated her. Internally, I was congratulating my boy, Horace. My mans was pinning after Angie since childhood and he finally got the girl. 

Even material to make a story out of, oop! Mayhaps.

She told us how it happened. They had been in a fight since her father secretly set her up on a blind date and he’d caught them as she was out. Horace didn’t blow up on them at the spot, but Angie felt compelled to follow him out the restaurant they were dining in. On the street, he aggressively professed his love and told her he couldn’t bear to beat around the bush anymore. He gave her an ultimatum, and she was thrown off by how assertive he was being. It made her heart flutter, and she confessed she felt the same. 

Another round of squeals at the table, please! Poor Finn, he had to suffer through us. His own fault for volunteering to, like, chaperone me.

The topic changed to the ball Cassie had for her 21st birthday. This happened like a couple of Fridays ago since her birthday was on the tenth of February. It was really extravagant and the theme was like a royal ball. So, we got to dress up in these really amazing ball gowns. I wore this beautiful green ball gown that was most likely akin to 16th century fashion, as one man told me. 

I wouldn’t know the exact period my dress resembled since that wasn’t my area of expertise. Glad the man knew, though!

Cassie tapped me on my arm, her face contorted in confusion. “Ali… What did we do for your birthday?”

I blinked before smiling. “Oh, we didn’t do anything.”

Her face immediately contorted in horror and she looked at Angie and Tina, which of course made me do the same. They had the same expression on their faces.

Tina raised a finger and began wagging it as she said. “Wait a minute… Did we even do something for your birthday last year?”

“Uh...no.” My eyes kept flickering between the three of them and I watched as the horror deepened in their faces.

They began showering me in apologies, and while it did comfort me— it annoyed me at the same time. ‘Like it was too late for apologies since the days already passed. So, like why sweat it now?’

The girls surrounded Ali and showered her in apologies. Finn watched from the sidelines. He saw the flicker of discomfort on Ali’s face before she began to smile. 

He knew that his family had forgotten about her past two birthdays as well, and he wanted to get something for her. But the last time he did that— he got in trouble for it. So, the best he did was wish her happy birthday. 

“Okay! Okay! We obviously just have to throw the biggest party ever to make up for them both.” Cassie said, her lips pursing as she talked. Tina and Angie nodded, but Ali sighed. 

She shook her head while clutching her forehead. “No. No, it’s alright really. My birthday passed. I don’t need anything.”

The girls dismissed her wishes, which annoyed the crap out of Ali and Finn. 

Ali rubbed her eyes roughly before waving her hands up. “Okay, okay, fine! We can have a little something. It has to be little. I’m not allowed South, so—!”

Cassie cut her off. “That’s completely alright. We can do it here like last time. You know?” She looked around the room. Tina and Angie nodded in agreement. 

Ali thought about it and just succumbed to her mates’ wishes. Ali took a breath and thought about it in a different perspective. Instead of holding onto the fact her birthdays were overlooked, she was just appreciative that they, at least, wanted to celebrate it now.

They girls talked it out and they decided they would reconvene next Friday at the Garrison. Finn was welcomed to join, and the lad was not going to miss it for anything in the world because of what they were planning.

These girls were planning to get “fucked up.” More specifically, Aliena “fucked up.” He had some idea of what that meant, and he knew he wasn’t going to like it. 

Eventually, Finn ended up asking Aliena what that meant, and she told him that her mates basically wanted to get her really drunk. He knew he wouldn’t like it. 

That week Finn, Aliena, and the girls were all just really preparing for the “doomsday.” Aliena was pumped up to have fun with her girls in her honor, and couldn’t decide what she to wear. The girls were trying to find gifts for her birthdays, you know, since they missed two of ‘em. 

While Finn, he was going through it. He was debating so hard whether or not to tell Tom. He didn’t know if he should. He usually would have, but with things being so tense lately— he really didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news or add fuel to the fire. So, he decided against it and was just glad to be invited. He also looked for a gift.

The day of the party both Finn and Aliena visited Tommy’s office. Aliena went to give him his dinner at around 5:30. She had yet to get dressed for the night, but her hair was beautifully done in waves from the braids she made the night before. She had half of it up since if it was all down— her hair would be too poofy.

Aliena knocked on Tom’s door before entering. Tom was finishing up some last minute paperwork. He didn’t tell Aliena, but he was going to Ada’s house to meet up with Grace. She’d called some weeks ago, and Tom was finally available enough to meet her. 

She rested the basket on his desk and moved a piece of her hair away from her face. “Here you go, Tommy. Have a nice night.” 

Tom picked up his head and his eyebrows wanted to furrow as he took in her appearance. Her hair was done nicely and she was wearing a nice outfit. 

Ali had on a white tank top with a sheer white long-sleeved blouse over it and wore a ribbed off-white skirt that hugged her curves. She didn’t think anything of it, but Tom sure did. 

He wondered if she got dressed up for another boy of hers, but then he realized he had no business admiring her or getting jealous. After all, he’d be meeting up with Grace in almost a half hour. 

Tom looked into Aliena’s eyes ‘n noticed she was wearing a bit of makeup and holding a vanilla folder in her hand as well. “Night, Ali.” He replied.

Ali smiled at him, gave him a nod, and knocked on his desk before spinning around on her heels. Ali was almost out the door when her hand knocked into one of the chairs and the contents of the vanilla folder went flying. Ali cursed under her breath and bent down to collect the papers from the ground.

Tom’s eyes never left her arse. Tom recognized that Aliena was blessed with well-endowed features— ample breasts and a large behind as well as thighs. He admired the way her breasts hung from her body as she had to reposition herself to get a paper that had flown under the chair. He admired the arch of her back. 

Tom realized he was acting like a pervert and resituatied himself. He silently cleared his throat and sat up straight while tugging on his pants. Aliena tapped the folder on the ground to straighten its contents before rising from her knees. 

She smiled at him, sheepishly, as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Sorry ‘bout that, Tommy. Good night.”

Tom repeated the phrase under his breath and Aliena made it out the door without a mishap. 

Finn came in not five minutes later, passing Aliena on the way to the office. He walked straight into Tom’s office. 

Tom’s head shot up and he didn’t hesitate to begin speaking, “Finn, I want you to look after Aliena tonight. I’m going over to Ada’s and I don’t know when I’ll be back.” Tom had risen from his seat as he spoke. Putting on his coat and cap. 

Tom walked over to Finn and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Alright?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, got it.”

Tom nodded and began walking ahead of his little brother, but then turned around all of a sudden. Tom pointed toward his desk ‘n said. “Oh and eat that for me, yeah? Aliena made it so… It should be good.”

Finn chuckled and took his brother up on the offer. He’d been starving.

Aliena rushed home and practically inhaled her meal. She didn’t want to eat, but since was planning to drink till her liver bursted— she didn’t want to knock out on the third drink. After eating, she hauled the tub to her room and took a bath.

Aliena decided tonight was the night. 

She wasn’t going to wait for Tommy anymore. 

She’s been building up to it and she didn’t care anymore. Virginity was just some societal construct anyhow. Plus, she wouldn’t tell anyone but she owned a dildo in her other universe ‘n yeah… 

Aliena just assumed this body, that was very fucking different, had it’s hymen, so…

She freshened up and shaved her vagina. Not for the poor guy she was going to use, but for herself. Aliena was big on, “you like me for me or you can fuck off.”

Don’t worry Ali had her hair all tied up away from the water and when she was done— all she had to do was dry her body off.

Ali kept her towel on as she did her makeup. She kept it light and noir like she did for the Garrison’s reopening. After makeup, she slid on her dress. The best Ali could describe it was a loose body con dress that had ruffles that reminded her of a curtain. It was sky blue ‘n fit with the times. 

Ali took down her hair once she was done putting on her dress. She tried her best to keep her waves, but they had ultimately lost most of their volume throughout the day. Aliena tried to not let it bother her. She put on her heels, grabbed a matching clutch, and her white fur coat. 

Aliena walked over to Finn’s room ‘n knocked on his door, asking if he was ready. He didn’t answer from his room, but from downstairs. Aliena hurried down the flight of stairs, joined their arms once she was down, and then they were on their way to the Garrison. 

Isaiah met them on the way, which was a pleasant surprise. Finn had invited him along ‘n of course Aliena wouldn’t mind. She hadn’t seen him in a long time, and she figured it was due to the business. 

Aliena was escorted with two men around her arms to the Garrison and she chatted with them the whole way. She was all smiles and it warmed both the men’s hearts. More so Finn than Isaiah. 

When they got to the pub, they instantly walked to the snug. They quickly seated themselves down ‘n got comfy. Isaiah ordered their bevvies from the window and they were served not too long after. 

The gang couldn’t have gotten there not twenty minutes later. Their hands were occupied with gifts ‘n the boys were carrying the cake. Aliena couldn’t feel more loved ‘n appreciated. She greeted her mates with kisses and hugs ‘n thanked them for the party. 

Aliena ended up thanking Douglas and Horace for showing up and for their gifts separately since she wasn’t expecting them. First manner of business was the birthday cake. Horace revealed this magnificent simple cake that had twenty candles around it.  

Ali couldn’t stop covering her face as she smiled. She tried reeling in her emotions, but she never could act “right” when people sang her happy birthday. For her birthday wish, she wished that she’d continue on working on her happiness. 

Before having a piece of cake, Aliena opened her presents. Cassie gave her another set of expensive jewelry that was to die for! Ali loved it! Douglas gave Aliena a new pair of shoes, a clutch, and a purse. While it wasn’t to die for, Aliena appreciated it since after all he didn’t even ask her what she wanted. It was ballsy to get a gift for Ali without talking to her first since her face usually gave her true thoughts away.

She’s worked on that since she was young, but sometimes it will show. Hasn’t happened yet, but doesn’t mean it won’t.

Angie gave Aliena more designer clothing while Horace bought her a typewriter. She absolutely gushed over their gifts, especially the typewriter. Tina’s present was Pride and Prejudice, Anna Karenina, Little Women, Romeo and Juliet, and The Picture of Dorian Gray. Aliena loved the fact that Tina gave her books. Truth be told, she hasn’t really read a book unless they were someone else’s. 

Isaiah didn’t have a gift, so we can skip over him. Finn, on the hand, did. Ali was a little apprehensive about it since last time he got her a gift, he would’ve caught a charge if he was anyone else. It was a big box, too. Aliena shook the lid off the box to find a box of items packed inside. There were about five different shades of lipstick, two bottles of perfume, and a whole lot of makeup. 

Ali couldn’t help but be in awe at the gift. She hugged Finn and thanked him for something so wonderful ‘n thoughtful. Finn was able to let go of the breath he was holding and felt extremely happy that she loved her gift. Swear, the boy had a smile for a majority of the night.

The minute Aliena was done opening her gifts, the real party began. Finn watched as Aliena and her mates took shot after shot after shot. He participated a bit himself, but out of conditioning from Aliena— he took his time. Isaiah was faring no better. He’d received the same order as Finn. His sole duty tonight was to protect Aliena ‘n the way she was drinking— he had a bad feeling something was gonna happen.

Eventually they made their way out of the snug ‘n began dancing more freely. Isaiah expertly manipulated Ali into only dancing with their mates. The minute she tried catching the eye of literally anyone else, he’d step in. 

Out in the city, he had no problem with who she danced with or who she made out with. In Small Heath, his and every other person’s eyes were at stake. But more importantly, his eyes were at stake!

Truthfully, Aliena wasn’t actually drunk— she was buzzed! But, she wasn’t drunk. She was mimicking Cassie’s behavior, who was on a completely different level drunkenness than her. She did it in a sense of solidarity and recklessness. She felt that since they were celebrating her birthday, since it was her night— she should be able to act freely. Especially when she was trapped in Birmingham per Tommy’s orders. 

Aliena was getting bored with just dancing and began to sing. She sang ‘Ain't No Other Man’ by Christina Aguliera. At first, it was just the mates who were aware that she was singing, but then other patrons heard her voice. Aliena was lifted in the air by a particularly strong ‘n tall patron and he set her down on the bar top. 

Aliena “under the influence” began to sing as clearly as she could and belt as loud as she could, as much in tune as she could manage. 

Not like they would know if she butchered the song or not.

Finn, who watched all of this go down, had enough. In his opinion, Aliena had gotten out of control ‘n it was out of his hands. So, he decided to get the big guns involved.

His senses were filled with her. Her perfume, the texture of her dress, the taste of her lips and the feeling of pressing them against his own. 

So, what had changed for him?

Tom wondered why her kiss didn’t set him aflame like it did months ago. 

“Tommy. Tommy, do you have someone?” She asked him. 

Tom kissed Grace again. 

“It's too late, Tommy.”

“It's 11:00, Grace.”

“I mean, it's too late. If you'd come with me to New York...”

“I had things to do.” He kissed her again, searching for that feeling. That feeling of completion and—! And wholeness.

“You mean the coin landed the wrong way?”

“It couldn’t have worked. That was the question.” Their lips met once more ‘n fiercer this time ‘round.

Grace parted from the kiss and breathily asked. “Tommy… Tommy, do you have someone?”

‘Yes?’ He thought as the memory of Aliena looking back at him at the park flashed in his mind. Tom took a deep breath. “I have a racehorse. She’s gonna win the Derby.” He said. Tom joined their lips again and this time— they didn’t part after a few seconds.

Tom was desperately seeking that feeling of passion, but he figured he was gettin’ into his own head by rushing it. So, he took it slow. Grace slipped down the sleeves of her dress, and it hardly did anything for him.

It aroused him, of course, but—! It wasn’t the same. It was akin to the times he’s laid with a prostitute. 

‘You’re getting in your head, Tom. The feeling will come back. Take your time.’ He told himself. He led her backward toward the couch, his lips never parting from hers. 

The more time he spent kissing her, the more that pit in his stomach grew. 

That feeling wasn’t coming back. 

Tom trailed down to her neck, and he paid attention to Grace there before going back to her lips.

‘Nothing. Nothing. Nothing! Give it some fuckin’ time, man!’

Then by the grace of God, the phone started going off. Tom parted from the kiss ‘n Grace’s hands flew to his face.

“Let it ring.” She rasped while trying to pull his face back to hers.

Tom never averted his gaze from the phone ‘n it didn’t stop ringing either. Annoyed, he got up from the couch and walked over to the telephone.

Tom had barely gotten the address out when Finn’s voice cut through the phone. “Tom, Tommy, are you there?”

“Finn, what’s happened? What’s wrong?” Panic overwhelmed his being and Tom began buttoning up his shirt.

The pub could be heard through the phone and Tom swore he could hear Aliena, but he thought he was just imagining it. 

Finn cleared his throat. “Uh, Tom, it’s Ali. She’s kinda going outta control right now.”

“You are there when I'm a mess

Talk me down from every ledge

Give me strength, boy, you're the best!

You're the only one who's ever passed every test!” 

Aliena’s belting could be heard from over the phone ‘n Tom sighed, exhaustedly. 

Finn continued. “She’s dancing and singing on top of the bar at the Garrison. I just—! I don’t know. I thought you should know. I don’t know what to do! Do I just let ‘er or—?”

Tom exhaled deeply as he rubbed his forehead. “Finn, all right, calm down. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Get her off the fucking bar top ‘n make sure she doesn’t do anything else.” He hung up the phone, turned around, and faced Grace.

She looked confused with her eyebrows drawn together and Tom was half surprised to see that her dress was still down. 

“Tommy,” She began. “What’s happened?”

Tom blinked before replying, “I, uh, I have to head back to Birmingham.”

“What?” She asked softly as she rose to her feet and slipped her sleeves back over her shoulders. 

Tom began putting his coat on as he said. “I can drive you, if you’d like, or you can call a Taxi.”

Grace scoffed while shaking her head. “You're serious, Tom?”

Tom looked at her like she stated the obvious and gave her a curt nod. “Yeah.”

Grace’s jaw dropped a little as did her head. She picked up her head, steeled her gaze, and stood up straighter. “I can find my own way back.”

He nodded again before motioning her to follow him out the door. 

The night didn’t go as he’d planned. But he had more important things to worry about. 

‘Fucking Aliena!’

Aliena was just glad she was able to finish her song before Finn and Isaiah pried her off the bar top. She had her little moment ‘n that’s all that mattered to her. ‘Cause she managed to get the attention of most of the lads in the pub.

Some were just staring at her from afar while others actually walked up to her. But they only managed to get a few words in before they were run off by Isaiah. At first it was cute. Yes, Aliena thought it was cute that Isaiah was scaring off the blokes that approached her— but then it got annoying. 

Why? Because he was ruining her fucking plan to lose her viriginity tonight!

“I’ma tell ya right now, mate. You either piss off or you’re losing your eyes, which one are you gonna pick?” Isaiah threatened the man in front of him.

The man scoffed and was about to say something when Isaiah reached up for his peaky cap.

“One...” Isaiah said ‘n that was all it took for the bloke to run off. 

  Aliena scoffed as she tried to look over Isaiah’s shoulder only to catch a glimpse of the guy running off. Aliena groaned and roughly shoved Isaiah in the chest. “The fuck are you doing, Saiah!” She shouted.

Isaiah raised his hands in surrender. “Look I’m sorry, Ali. All right, I’m sorry.”                              

Aliena’s face contorted in confusion and her head shook. “No, what the fuck is going on! You’ve never done this before, so what the ‘ell is up?”

Isaiah sighed and looked all around the room. He debated tellin’ her the truth or not, and he decided it would be easier if she just knew what was up. “Look, Ali… I can’t let any bloke in here have a go at you, all right?”

Her face didn’t change. “The fuck is that supposed to mean? The fuck you mean ‘you can’t let me’? Who’s...” Her voice trailed off as did her gaze.

‘No way!’ She thought. ‘There’s just no fucking way!’

Aliena huffed. “Di-Did Tommy—! Does Thomas have something to do with this?”

Isaiah nodded. He hesitantly said. “Tom… He ‘n the family ordered a long time ago that no one in Birmingham is allowed to have a go at ya. They’re not even allowed to accept a confession from you. And any Peaky Blinder who tries to disobey or not try ‘n help ya if you’re in danger, or knew about it ‘n let it happen— gets their eyes and tongues cut.”

Aliena was taken back by the rule. Some part of her was in awe that Tommy cared that much for her while the other was annoyed that he was. 

Why the fuck did he have to go ‘n do that? Why the fuck was he preventing her from going out with guys when he had no intention of going out with her himself? It was fucking ridiculous!

Her nose wrinkled in her anger before she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Aliena took a deep breath before clapping her hands in front of her. “Okay, Saiah! You have two options. One, you either keep on carrying out this ridiculous order Tom have you ‘n you’ll have to face my wrath. Or two, you call it a night and get out of my fucking way. So, what is it gonna be one or two?”

Isaiah didn’t hesitate. “Two.”

Ali raised her hand for a high-five, which Saiah reciprocated. “Good man.” Aliena said before walking off, on the prowl. 

It took sometime before the men in the pub realized Isaiah was no longer lurking around Aliena and began approaching her again. Aliena was picky when choosing the man she wanted to lose her virginity to. After all, what’s the point of doing it if she wasn’t going to enjoy it? She wanted a man she could look at and be aroused from. 

She was lucky enough to find one sitting at the bar when she walked over to get another drink. His name was Robert, last name unknown since she didn’t care for it. They made small talk, but Aliena wasn’t looking to get to know him. She just wanted to make sure she could get wet. 

And she found that she could, as she began imagining all the positions he could put her in. 

Tommy kept intruding on her imagination— hijacking her scenarios, but she’d just close her eyes ‘n take a moment. The next time she opened her eyes, he was gone.

Aliena brought her bevvy up to her mouth and took a sip before shoving Robert’s shoulder for something  he said. 

Unbeknownst to her, Tom had walked into the pub deadset on finding her. And that didn’t take very long. Tom witnessed Aliena’s little interaction firsthand. She was sitting on top of the bar top while flirting with some random fucking bloke. He didn’t know what infuriated him more.  

The fact that someone dared to go against his orders, or that she was flirting with someone in front of his face. 

Tom’s jaw dropped a little and his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek. He closed his mouth and nodded before he made a beeline for Aliena. As he grew closer, she’d finally noticed him. A smile on her face was quickly wiped off as Tom walked right up to her, tugged her off the top ‘n threw her over his shoulder.

Ali gasped and exclaimed. “What—!”

Tom hiked her further up his shoulder before spinning around and making his way toward the door. “Shut up, Ali.”

“--the fuck are you doing!”

Tom had no intention of letting her down. He feared she’d just talk her way out of it, or try to fucking run away. Tom was gonna give her the lecture of a lifetime whether she liked it or not. He wasn’t going to let her get the chance to go back to her mates and cause more embarrassment for herself. 

Aliena was shouting at Tom to let her down. She was pounding on his shoulder as an extra measure, but it wasn’t like she was doin’ it hard either. The pounding resembled more like knocking or somethin’.

Eventually, Aliena huffed and just let herself be carried to wherever he was taking her. From the streets he was walking, Ali soon realized they were going to his flat. She tsked and tried to support her head up. 

When they reached his front door, Tom hiked her up on his shoulder again before reaching for his keys. 

Aliena rolled her eyes as she muttered. “I can walk on my own two feet, you know.”

Tom ignored her as he struggled to get his door unlocked and open. It was difficult with a body over his shoulders, but he did it. The minute he walked through the door— he let Ali down. 

As she regained her footing, Tom locked the door behind him. Ali stabilized herself rather quickly and threw her head back with an overexaggerated groan as she stomped away from Tom ‘n toward the stairs.

Tom turned back ‘round and shouted. “Oi! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Ali rolled her eyes and faced him. A hip dropped as she said. “To bed.”

He shook his head. “No.” Tom walked right up to her face and repeated. “No. We’re going to talk about the little show you put on at the pub. Huh?”

Ali averted her gaze from him and began shaking her leg.

Tom grabbed her chin and made her face him. “Huh? What the fuck was that t’night?”

Aliena couldn’t tell ya a blag. What he did went straight to her cunt and the fact she was looking to fuck tonight— did not help her case at all.

Tom released her chin and waited for Aliena to answer.

She sighed and waved her left arm out before letting it drop to her side. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about, Tom.”

He scoffed.

“I DON’T... know what you’re talking about ‘cause all I was doing was having some fun with my mates. That’s all.” 

Tom shook his head. “No, that’s not all. You got on that bar top and sang and danced. You got drunk ‘n started making a fool of yourself.”

Aliena tsked, rolling her eyes, and throwing her head back. “I wasn’t fucking drunk.”

“Yeah fucking right!”

Aliena looked at him in disbelief. “You know what! You weren’t even fucking there, so I don’t even know how the fuck you knew about what I was doing, by the way! Don’t tell me you had another Peaky Blinder looking after me. ‘Cause that’d mean you sicked three people on me tonight, and I’d want to know the fucking reason for that too. ”

“Finn phoned me, worried about ya. And I did not sick three people on you tonight. I only told Finn to look after you.”

Aliena sighed deeply at the news, her eyes rolling again. A hand came up to her forehead and she rubbed it. “Finn...” She whispered. “Of fucking course, that goddamn kid.” Aliena didn’t even look at Tom again. Instead, she waved him off as she turned around while walking toward the staircase. 

“And where do you think you’re going, Ali? We’re not done here!” He shouted as he watched her climb the stairs. His gaze naturally falling on her arse. 

She craned her head back a little as she replied. “Yes, we fucking are. Both of our emotions are high right now. There’ll be no moving forward in this conversation. So good night, Tom.” 

Tom shook his head, his pointer finger running over his bottom lip. Angrily, he ripped off his coat, and threw both it and his cap on his sofa. He marched up the stairs as he shouted for Aliena.

Dumbly, Ali was deciding which room she wanted to bunk in for the night, and it allowed Tom just enough time to catch up with her. He grabbed her by the crook of her arm and pulled her into his room. He threw her into it, to which she cried out. 

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” She yelled. 

None of this was helping, by the way. This roughness he was handling her with. Yeah, she liked this! So, he wasn’t winning in the slightest.

His eyes were blown wide, and his hands were on his hips. With the wave of his finger, he asked. “Yeah ‘n who the fuck was that who you were talkin’ too? Eh!”

Aliena squeezed her hands into fists before letting them relax as she stifled her groan. “God, Tommy! Why the fuck does it matter?”

“Who was he, Aliena! I want a fucking name!”

“I DON’T KNOW! Okay? He’s name was Robert and that’s all I know.” She yelled louder than Tom, which was making his blood boil more. Aliena clapped her hands and with finger guns, she began. “You know fucking what? Answer my fucking question, Tom. Why the fuck do you care? Huh?”

Aliena inched closer to him, and making Tom stand up straighter, slightly.

“Why the fuck did you have your men scare away other men away from me? Explain it to me.”

Tom chuckled, humorlessly. “For your own protection, sweetheart.”

She shook her head. “No. I would’ve believed you if you only ordered them to maim anyone who tried assaulting me. That would make it believable. But to put a city wide order that I was not to be fucking approached in the slightest! That even if I went up to them, they better run the other fucking direction unless they wanted to lose their eyes! No… Fucking no. So, tell me, Thomas. What the fuck is up?” 

Aliena was standing directly under Tom. She could hear his heavy breathing with clarity. He didn’t respond. She scoffed and walked away from him further into the room. 

By the grace of “intoxication,” Aliena felt like she was finally bold enough. She was going to blame it on the alcohol. If what she was about to do, backfired on her— she’d deny, deny, deny.

Tom watched as Ali walked away from him before facing him. The air about her was different. She didn’t look angry and annoyed anymore; she looked like she was on a mission. It was attractive. Seductive. Arousing.

Aliena’s fingertips trailed up her arm, an eyebrow raised as she said. “You wanna know why I was even talking to Robert, Thomas.” Her fingertips grazed up her left shoulder and across her collarbone. “It’s because I intended on fucking him.” Her voice trailed off at the end.

Tom’s head snapped up and he looked at her straight in the eyes, flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. 

‘She—! She was gonna what?’

Aliena giggled, humorlessly, as she took in Tommy’s expression. Her fingertips stopped her dance as she did so. Ali composed herself rather quickly ‘n she continued. “I was going to fuck him...” She shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips as she said. “To finally get over you.”

Aliena cocked her head to the side and waited for his reaction. Tom shuffled his stance and tucked his hands into his pockets. He could feel his eyes glaze over and lust creep on him as Aliena teasingly had a single fingernail under the strap of her dress.

Aliena looked away before looking back at him. “So, there it is, Tommy. I said it. Now, you have two options. You either walk out that door, or...” Aliena attempted to look sexual as she slipped both of the straps of her dress down her shoulders ‘n let it fall to the ground. 

Tom gulped at the sight of her. Her bare breasts. The sight of her in nothing but her panties.

“You fuck me.” She finished, fixing her posture. 

Truthfully, she was trembling in anxiety. She hoped to God she wasn’t making a fool of herself.

Tom had to internally fight his demons and he needed to do it quickly, out of respect for her. It was a whole lot of, “should he” or “should he not.” But then, Aliena just had to trail her fingertip down her neck again with this far-off gaze and he knew his choice.

Tom rushed toward Aliena and captured her lips, hungrily. Aliena couldn’t help but gasp happily. Her mouth opening wide. Tom didn’t waste the opportunity to shove his tongue inside. He made her walk backward toward the wall. The pace caused Ali to be shoved into the wall. The pain that erupted in her back made her moan into his mouth. 

Tom’s hands trailed up from her waist all the way to her breasts and he squeezed them eagerly. Almost wantonly, Ali gasped with a smile again as she arched her back into Tom’s hands.

This… This is what Tom was talking about. This passion, this feeling of completion! This was it!

Tom parted from her lips which made her pant for air. He pressed kisses on the side of her mouth, her cheek, before peppering her neck with them. Aliena’s fingers found Tommy’s hair and she found herself pressing him closer against her neck. 

‘So, she feels it here...’ He thought.

Tom increased his antics. Nipping, sucking, and kissing her neck all over. While Aliena wasn’t moaning, she was panting ‘n gasping as if she couldn’t breath. Hitching as if she were in pain. 

Tom left her neck and lowered himself down to her breasts. He rolled her left nipple in his mouth while still kneading her right breast. When he decided to tug on her nipple with his teeth, he tugged on her right nipple with his fingers. Aliena gasped and yanked Tom’s hair as she arched her back into him further.

“Tommy...” She rasped. “I—! Please.” 

Mentally, it hurt her to plead like this. It sent her cheeks aflame, and she would’ve hid her face in embarrassment if she wasn’t feeling so much pleasure from running her fingers through his hair.

As Tom moved to her right tit, he shushed her and whispered against her skin. “Patience, love.”

Aliena’s breath hitched once more as Tom nibbled on her nipple, her thighs rubbed together. It did nothing, but allow her to get some pent up energy out of her. 

Tom let go of her right nipple with one last tug before he rose up a little to begin marking up the space above her breasts. Aliena giggled at him.

“So, are you a tits man, then, Tommy?” She asked breathily, a giggle at the end of her sentence.

Tom stopped sucking on a particular spot on her chest as he began to smile. He picked his head up and pecked her lips repeatedly. “Yours. I’ve. Been. Wanting to. Do this. To yours.”

Aliena’s hands had slid down to his face and she stroked his cheek lovingly. She parted from their pecks and whispered. “Who am I to deny you, then?”

Tom stared into her eyes before hooking his hands in the crooks of her knees and carrying her. Ali yelped and wrapped her arms around his neck before going into a giggling fit. Tom walked over to his bed and plopped her down on it. 

Aliena bounced as a result. Tom hurriedly back to yank his clothes off and cursed himself for wearing so many accessories. While Tom was working on taking off his shirt sleeve garters, Ali had scooted herself down the bed and worked on getting his belt off.

The whole situation was laughable, so Tom began to laugh— which made Aliena laugh. Once Tom got the bloody things off, Aliena had already thrown aside his belt and unzipped his pants. Tom bent down and tried to kiss Aliena. 

She realized what he was trying to do ‘n met him halfway by standing on her knees. Grateful that she allowed him to bend less, he continued working on unfastening the buttons on his vest ‘n shirt while slipping off his shoes. He took off his shoes, stepped out of his pants, and kicked them both away while throwing his vest and button up off his shoulders. 

The pair broke their kiss to let Tommy yank off his under shirt. Tom found her lips once more as he slowly climbed on top of her and hovered above her on his bed. After a minute or two more of kissing, he parted and asked against her lips. “Are you sure you want this, Aliena? We can stop right now.”

Ali stared into Tommy’s eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. She nodded her head. “I want you, Tommy. It’s always been you.”

They stared into each other’s eyes a bit longer before Tom’s head ducked down and began trailing deep kisses all the way down to her groin where the hem of her panties lied. He placed kisses along the hem as he hooked his fingers into the side of the band, and slowly slid them down. 

Aliena’s eyes were closed shut and she was fisting the blankets of his bed. She flinched at every kiss he placed closer and closer to her cunt. 

Tom licked a long stripe upward toward Ali’s clit as he slid her panties down her legs entirely. Ali whimpered as her hips bucked. Tom couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his mouth. Aliena was biting her bottom lip so harshly that she was afraid it would split. 

Tom spread her pussy and started off slow before working his way toward violently flicking her clit with his tongue and sucking on it. Aliena still didn’t allow her moans to escape her, instead, only letting out whimpers, gasps, and pants. 

Aliena’s thighs clamped around Tom’s ears, but that didn’t stop him. Hell, it couldn’t even stop him from hearing her little mewls. 

Ali felt that familiar build up growing in the pit of her stomach, and her hand flew to Tom’s hair. “Tommy, I’m close!” She said. “Stop, please. I don’t wanna... without ya...”

Tom didn’t stop, in fact, he worked her faster. “Go on.” He rasped. “Come.”

Aliena’s hands flew to her face as her face contorted in pure pleasure. Tom didn’t like that. She was blocking the view. Ali threw her head back and finally let out an audible moan. Her hips wildly bucked against Tom’s mouth and chin, and he let her ride out her climax. 

He let go of her with a pop and a hiss. Tom took a deep breath, trying to catch it before sliding a finger along her opening. Aliena’s hands had fallen to the sides of her head. An uncontrollable smile on her face. She outstretched her arms and whispered, lovingly. “Tommy...”

Tom felt his heart swell and without stopping his teasing— he leaned toward her and kissed her as she wanted.

Aliena didn’t mind the taste of herself on his lips, she was used to it. Having been a chronic masturbator. Ali tugged on Tom’s bottom lip and when she finally let go, she coquettishly whispered. “Fuck me, Tommy, please. I’m ready.”

Tom’s eyes looked over her face and he chuckled. He pecked her lips before replying, “No, it’s your first time, Ali. I won’t be rough with you. This time.”

Ali’s mouth stretched upward into a smile and she bit her lip. “Promise?”

As Tom finally slipped a finger inside her— making her gasp, he rubbed his nose against hers, replying, “I promise.”

Tom slowly pumped his finger in and out of Ali, and truthfully, the girl felt nothing. She’s teased her hole with her fingers loads of times. So, it was just a foreign feeling. But for the sake of seemingly “innocent,” she began panting a little.

Tom added a second finger and then a third— and that’s when she felt something. Her pants turned real and she wondered if he had to add the third finger so that she could accommodate to his size. She still hadn’t seen him. 

Meanwhile, Tom was handling his delayed satisfaction just fine. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, so he was lucky enough to just be able to focus on making this the best experience for Aliena as possible. When he felt that her pussy was sucking his fingers in, instead of trying to push them out— he removed them. 

Aliena moaned and looked up at Tom. Tom misinterpreted her gaze as her being scared and was quick to reassure her that everything would be alright. In reality, Aliena was just startled that her pleasure had been taken away from her.

She never thought she’d get off on fingers. She thought it was impossible for her. 

‘You really do need someone else’s fingers.’ She thought.

Tom pulled down his boxers and kicked them away. He was about to gather her wetness when Ali took his hand and pulled it toward her mouth. She gathered the saliva in her mouth and let it fall down onto his hand. His cock throbbed in his hand at the action. 

He couldn’t believe that she’d be this tempting. 

Tom lathered his cock in Ali’s spit and pumped his cock a few times, hissing at the pleasure he gave himself before lining up to Aliena’s entrance. Tommy hovered above her and took his free hand, and interlocked it with hers. 

“You ready?” He asked once more.

Aliena nodded. “Yes, yes, please...”

Tom kissed Ali as he slowly entered her. Ailena moaned from the sensation. Tommy began littering the side of her mouth and cheek with kisses. They both groaned when he was fully sheathed inside her. Her walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing him tightly. 

Made him grunt from the sensation. 

Aliena wasn’t in pain, but it has certainly been awhile since a cock has been inside her. Not to mention, she was still pretty sure this body was a virgin. There was no pain, but there was a lot of pressure. She couldn’t tell if he was big or not.

Aliena just felt very “full” and “satisfied.”

“Move, Tommy.” She rasped.

Tom breathily chuckled. “I can’t. You haven’t gotten used to it, yet.”

Aliena gripped his chin and made him face her. “Tommy, move slowly. I want to feel you.”

How the fuck could he deny that?

Slowly, Tom began moving his hips. He’d pull out just enough so his tip won’t fall out and then slide all the way back in. Ali whimpered at the feeling, but after enough times— she found herself wanted more. So, she vocalized it.

“Faster, Tommy.” 

Tom complied to her wishes and began thrusting faster. He found himself admiring this whole situation. Intoxicated on the feeling he’d been missing from… Yeah.  It was Ali. He’d fallen in love with Ali. 

Tom was taking in every reaction she had. With her legs wrapped around his waist, her breasts bouncing softly with each thrust, and her face contorted in pleasure. She couldn’t hide since their fingers were interlocked. 

Tom’s breath began to waiver as pants and grunts escaped his lips. He picked up the pace to which Ali couldn’t hold back her moans anymore. This only encouraged Tom to go even faster. 

“Fuck, Tommy! Yes!”

Ali was unsure of what she was feeling. She couldn’t tell if she was climbing toward her big O, or if she was getting off on pleasing him. She actually never orgasmed when using her dildo, but this was different. Sex with Tommy was different, of course it was, and that’s what threw her off. 

It wasn’t till Ali began bucking her hips upward did she realize she was really feeling it. Ali admired Tom’s blissed out face. She was doing this to him, and it absolutely gave her an ego boost. 

They were meeting each other’s thrust so roughly that all you could hear was skin slapping against skin along with the sloppy wet sound coming from Aliena’s pussy. It fueled them both with more lust for one another. 

Aliena felt that pit in her stomach again and she cried out as did Tom since her pussy tightened around his cock. He was so close and her tightening didn’t help at all. 

“Tommy, I’m clo—!”

Tom slammed his lips on hers before reaching down with one hand and began rubbing her clit. Aliena’s hips stuttered, her legs trembled, and her grip on Tommy’s hand turned iron. Tom pounded into her cunt, overwhelmed with pleasure. Aliena’s squeal as she came was muffled by Tom’s kiss. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her back arched into his chest. 

Tom wasn’t too far behind. He parted from the kiss and looked up at the ceiling as he came. Strained pants escaped him as he rode out their highs. Tom hiked Aliena’s legs up and got incredibly deeper which made Aliena giggle and sigh.  

Ali was surprised at how fucking nice it felt to be came inside of, but she loved every minute of it. Ali was the one to capture Tom’s lips this time and when she parted, she asked.

“You down for a round two?”

Tommy chuckled as he rested his forehead against her own. “Why the fuck not!”

Aliena gasped as he flipped them over with her now on top. Aliena laughed breathily and steadied herself by placing both of her hands on Tom’s chest. Tom was taken back at how sexy she was above him.

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[sopercabeth]

Coffee Cups & Terrible Liars

Hello! This is a fanfic I wrote back in 2017 when Scorpion still existed. Simpler times, I guess :-( It was originally published on my profile in FFN (@dauntlessmermaid) but I figured it was time for it to see the light of day here on Tumblr. 

If you wish to read it on FFN, click here

Summary:  "Well, he had talked to her, once. A very short, very uncomfortable conversation with his usual unfiltered self and a poorly delivered diagnosis of anemia that went just about as good as anyone would expect. " A Coffee Shop AU in which Walter is strangely fixated on a certain honey-colored haired barista and he's a little too keen on finding out why.

A/N: I do not own Scorpion or any content/characters related to the show. All rights belong to CBS :) Enjoy!

Unlike many people, Walter O'Brien found the thunderous bad weather sort of soothing. Especially given that the odds of seeing one in Los Angeles weren't very promising these days.

The surprisingly loud and rhythmic chirping of the rain drops against the roof top and the occasional thunder booming in the distance worked wonders by silencing his overloaded mind for a bit. Walter was inclined to believe that, even without his eidetic memory, the rain would always bring him back to Callan's endless green landscapes and simple lifestyle. This time instead, seeing the already flooded streets turning into rivers of dirt and all kinds garbage, he thought this thunderstorm was not really bringing back sweet childhood memories. Not that he had many of them to speak of…

The electricity had been down for almost an hour now, and even with the rain easing his mind he was beginning to feel as anxious as the blond-haired boy two tables ahead of him, who had been fidgeting with his bag since the first droplets of rain. Usually, Walter enjoyed spending time at Kovelsky's Coffee Shop; it was the most decent place to get his, and occasionally the team's, morning caffeine that was a comfortable drive away from the garage. But right now he wasn't very comfortable with the thought of how much work awaited him at the garage when he couldn't exactly drive there through the rain in his god forsaken Volkswagen. So he'd been stationed here, sitting on a vinyl lounge chair with no more company than an empty coffee cup, a kid suffering from severe anxiety and the shop's staff.

Walter remembered feeling quite proud about discovering Kovelsky's almost four weeks ago on his way home from a job. Ever since their first coffee pot had died, the team had agreed to take turns on who was in charge of buying their daily coffee and Walter stumbling into Kovelsky's the day prior to his turn, had been of the likes of a miracle; if such thing existed, of course.

A week after this astounding discovery, he'd been a little too proud enough to let it slip the moment Toby started his daily rant about having to get his coffee elsewhere again due to their second coffee pot —a gift from a client— also dying under suspicious circumstances.

He rarely shared personal information with the behaviorist knowing it would ultimately lead to an over-analysis on the potential emotional background of his most trivial choices, but this coffee machine problem had consumed his already sparse patience and truth be told, he ─or the team as a whole, for that matter─ didn't function properly before drinking an early morning dose of caffeine. That and the funny name he’d asked the barista to write on Toby’s coffee cup, had been the ideal set of variables that resulted in Toby successfully getting in his toes that morning. 

"I knew you were behind those ridiculous names on my coffee cups!" he said before taking a swig of his coffee "You tell that hot brunette barista that I'll be paying her a visit to get our order next time"

Walter choked on his drink. He grimaced, tongue burned.

An image of Kovelsky's barista, Paige, sprang in his mind flashing him a genuine smile as she handed him his order and change that same morning. Besides having Walter's lack of social skills as a disadvantage, he'd picked on the hint in Toby's snarky comment surprisingly fast. Walter made use of all his willpower to not blurt out more things that could potentially drag him even deeper into the hole, like the actual shade of brown of the hot brunette barista's hair, for starters.

"Just thought I needed an appropriate comeback for Emotional Dumpster Fire and Ego-maniac" he counterattacked, perhaps a little too late.

Walter cursed himself for hesitating on that last remark. Now, he was sure he had seen those nicknames in his coffee cups sometime in the past, but he didn't really know if either of them had been written on the ones Toby had ordered for him. So,as a result of him trying to cover up his slip, his brain had acted on his usual unfiltered auto-pilot.

Toby clicked his tongue, his lips curving into his trademark devilish grin. "You are such a terrible liar, mi amigo" he said, his fingers tapping on his cup excitedly "by the way I highly suspect of you deliberately messing up our new pot, but I'll let it go in the light of this new interesting chain of events"

Had he not being busy taking another glorious sip of his coffee, Walter might've even blushed at that last comment. He had indeed messed up said coffee machine, not intentionally at least and certainly not because keep going to Kovelsky's had been his plan all along (something he surprisingly didn't mind at all). In fact, and much to Walter's embarrassment, the sudden and disastrous malfunction of the machine had come off as a result of his first (and probably last) attempt at replicating Cinnamon dream, Paige's coffee recommendation of the week.

"T-that's not—"

"It was definitely a clever move to keep visiting our friend at Kovelsky's, actually" Toby said, cutting off his embarrassing stutter.

"What was a clever move to keep visiting our friend at Kovelsky's?" Sylvester, who apparently had been able to eavesdrop on Toby's last remark, asked as he joined them at the kitchen to get the lone apple that awaited him on the countertop "do we have a friend at Kovelsky's?"

"You all know, Kovelsky's?" Walter asked, his eyes shifting between both the mathematician and the behaviorist in bewilderment.

"That's the place where I get our coffee orders on Wednesdays, sometimes" Sylvester said as he proceeded to wash his apple in the sink behind Walter.

"You don't drink coffee" Walter added.

Sylvester hunched his shoulders. "You try telling Happy that"

"It's alright, pal" Toby added as he slid his free arm across Walter's shoulders "we've all had a crush on a coffee shop barista"

"What coffee shop barista?" Cabe asked. The homeland agent had arrived at just the perfect time to also eavesdrop on a conversation that should have never happened in the first place.

Walter visualized slapping himself hard in the face.

"The one this emotional dumpster fire is crushing on, of course" the behaviorist said, tightening his leverage on his shoulders.

"I don't have a crush on Paige" he snapped.

Oh boy.

While he listened to Toby and Cabe's frantic bursts of laughter, Walter finally said his goodbyes to a peaceful day at Scorpion's headquarters. There was no possible way that either of them would let go of that. Paige's name slipping from his lips had officially sealed his coffin.

"Did Paige put that cinnamon in your coffee as well?" Toby asked mockingly as he finally released Walter's shoulders and walked away in the direction of his desk.

Walter avoided visiting Kovelsky's for pretty much the entirety of the following week, something that did not go unnoticed by Toby, of course. He was fast to voice his utter disappointment regarding Walter's sudden interest in Yorkshire tea instead of his usual order from said coffee shop.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to buy a new coffee pot. Not out of sentimentalism, of course, but good old pride. Buying a new pot out of the blue would mean something for Toby, and he was definitely not backing up the shrink's theories on Walter's alleged emotions being awakened by the waitress.

A particularly loud thunder pulled Walter out of his reverie, his eyes falling to the empty cup atop the coffee table in front of him. The sight of his own name on it seemed foreign to him, as if he had somehow misspelled it his entire life. A ridiculous musing, if he actually put some thought to it, but the truth was that he found Paige's handwriting aesthetically beautiful, even when he had her write those absurd nicknames he'd come up for Toby.

Her little burst of laughter was worth the embarrassment, he thought.

Before this moment, Walter hadn't paid much attention to her handwriting, but he had indeed been observant of other things about her in the sporadic (but also uncomfortable) events in which they had interacted. And so he had come to associate the barista's light temper, energetic personality (surely a suitable behavior for someone who served at least a hundred customers per day) and overall appearance with a very neutral, pretty much basic handwriting style.

On the contrary, Paige had a very nice cursive handwriting with just the right amount of edges and curls to make it both elegant and practical enough to read effortlessly. 

He’d been wrong all along, of course. But when had he ever been right about people? It wasn’t exactly his department.The genius was a lot of things but a Harvard trained psychologist, so how in the world, ─and taking in consideration his close to non-existent social skills─ would he be able to decode a woman if he hadn't even properly talked to her?

He had talked to her just once. A very short, very uncomfortable conversation with his usual unfiltered self and a poorly delivered diagnosis of anemia that went just about as good as anyone would expect. Of course, not even a clinically addicted gambler like Toby would bet on the odds of him getting the chance to engage into yet another disastrous conversation with her. Walter wouldn't have blamed him either.

Walter shook his head in annoyance. He was definitely not happy with the turn his thoughts were taking. Especially since he was still incapable of figuring out what was that he found so intriguing about this woman. Or why he felt compelled to make these ridiculous assumptions about her, like the way she wrote his name on a paper container. Besides, by being a regular customer for almost three weeks, Walter couldn't act like he actually knew this woman. He represented 15 minutes of a 24-hour day in her life, not even a 2 percent of it, if put in perspective.

Walter sighed and risked a quick glance in Paige's direction. She had abandoned her place behind the bar and was trying to offer some kind of pastry to the fidgety kid sitting two tables ahead of him. 

He vaguely reminded him of a younger version of Sylvester, his feet tapping nervously on the floor as he examined a particular set of equations on the board of the garage. If the kid was anything like him, Walter doubted she'd make much progress in easing his anxiety.

But there she was, a couple of minutes later, gently ruffling up his hair as she handed him a freshly-baked chocolate muffin. “Thank you” the kid said a few moments later, both his hands too occupied picking on the pastry to continue their nervous tapping on the table. 

The streets had been unsually packed the day of his return to Kovelsky’s a few days later resulting in Walter arriving much later than expected. There was a relatively short line of customers, —probably because six forty-five was not quite the busy hour for the coffee shop— which meant he could possibly shorten his visit and return to the garage to finish the tedious task of testing governmental software security for the hundredth time. With the deadline approaching at a seemingly faster pace, Walter and Sylvester's progress turned out slower than anticipated and the genius had been forced to rely on Toby and Happy's coding skills to get the last patches of the firewall revised. It would have been the only way they’d be able to deliver the results in time to a very irritable Deputy Director Cooper, who had not only called for updates once, but twice in a manner of twenty minutes.

As of now, the team had worked tirelessly throughout the entire night with pre-scheduled 10-minute lunch breaks to increase efficiency. But as the morning hours approached, Walter and Toby had surprisingly agreed that they could definitely use a large order of egg bagels and coffee to get through the last couple of hours before the deadline was officially up.

Walter was functioning on auto-pilot by now, which was why he initially took no notice of the familiar voice that greeted him as he approached the end of the line to order. He was already blurting out his usual coffee order before the previous client had successfully retrieved his own order from the barista’s hands.

"Good morning to you too, Walter" a familiar voice said back, laughing softly.

Walter could almost feel the color running up his face, because damn it he knew that voice too well. He scratched the back of his head nervously, his eyes rising from the brown tiles to the delicately written 'Paige' on the name tag of the woman in front of him.

"I-I’m sorry," he stuttered back, feeling utterly ridiculous "good morning, Paige"

Walter had only pronounced her name out loud a couple times before, and so it felt kind of awkward coming out of his mouth. When he finally got himself together to look up at her, she seemed like she was holding back a grin.

Paige settled for a wide smile and proceeded to tap the screen of the monitor in front of her. Walter was a bit surprised to find out she’d changed a little since the last time he saw her. Her hair was pulled up in a high pony tail and her bangs looked slightly longer, almost reaching her eyelids now. The early morning light brought out a nice sun-kissed tone on her skin and made her eyes shine a warm hazelnut color too. Sun bathing, maybe? And hadn't the bags under her eyes lessened a little bit? Moderate sun exposure increases levels of vitamin D and may help increase overall sleep quality…

She looked quite stunning, actually.

"…than usual, today"

Walter shook his head, eyebrows scrunched up together "I'm sorry, what?"

Paige flashed him another gentle smile rendering him slightly dazed "I said you look a little more tired than usual today. Walter, are you okay?"

Apparently he was also slower than usual because it took him a whole three-seconds' time to process that question "Yes, yes, I'm fine" he said, before he resumed to the suddenly difficult task of retrieving the right amount of money from his wallet.

She raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly dissatisfied with his rushed answer.

He frowned, evidently confused, as he quickly went over the whole exchange before it finally downed on him. "I'm fine, thank you" he added.

"You're getting so much better…I'm actually proud!" she admitted, handing him the printed receipt. "You know the drill: I'll call your name when the order is ready. It shouldn't take long"

Walter was about to deliver what was most likely a completely unnecessary scientific fact when his phone buzzed inside his pocket snapping him back to reality. The security software, he thought, alarmed, as he swiped left below Toby's caller ID to answer.

"I hope you're all done with the flirting and driving your ass back with our coffees right now" he said.

"Almost there" the genius replied, cursing out loud at the time on his wristwatch. "Has Cooper showed up yet?"

"No, but it shouldn't take her more than five minutes. I don't think that woman has ever been late to something, not even her birth"

Walter rolled his eyes and looked at his wristwatch once again. Even if he sped, he'd never make it to the garage in time if he waited for his order to be ready "See you there" he said, then hung up and put his phone back in his pocket.

"Is everything alright?" Paige asked from behind the bar, a couple feet apart from him.

"Actually…no" he replied, a silent apology drawn all over his face "I have to go"

Paige blinked, puzzled "What?"

"I'm sorry!" he shouted as he dashed through the doors and towards the parking lot.

"Walter, wait!" she shouted back, a cup holder in her hand

He was not able to see the noticeable disappointment in Paige's face.

Walter always thought he was one to get things done without complaint. 

He could take on time-sensitive and dangerous missions every day, but it had always been the ensuing paperwork that got the best of him. He was vaguely aware of the few perks of working for the government, but having to write reports and fill out endless forms every time they worked on something was far away from being considered among them. Especially because no matter how many times he reviewed said reports, they always made sure to comment on virtually anything about them: the language used, the length, the blank space on the comments section…

Walter would've given anything to ditch that insufferable task and take a look at the equations Sylvester was working on the board or see what was going on with that faint smell of smoke coming from Happy's workplace… even take a look at the book Toby was reading at the living room with his feet over the coffee table. But he was well aware that the paperwork wouldn't do itself over the night and if he neglected to work on it for another day, he might as well never do it at all.

He sighed and frowned at the insurmountable pile of paperwork before his eyes wishing he'd have some sort of supernatural ability to make it disappear. At this point he thought anything would do, though he'd like to admit that laser-like vision was one of his favorites. Walter rolled his eyes at this ridiculous trail of thought. He had to be very desperate to bring up his sparse knowledge on sci-fi material to occupy his mind.

In fact, Walter was so engrossed in the many uses he could think of for laser-like vision that he missed the knock on the door. At first, it seemed like nobody else noticed, but Toby ended up being the one to answer it, not after shooting the rest of the team a skeptical look. Cabe had left thirty minutes before, so it was rather unlikely that it'd be him, at least not with L.A. traffic this late in the afternoon. Could be another lost delivery guy…

Except that it was neither Cabe nor the disoriented delivery guy from the recently open restaurant two blocks away.

"Hi—uh, I'm sorry," she stuttered "my name is—"

"Paige" Toby interrupted her, obviously amused. Walter's eyes widened. "What a pleasant surprise…"

"Yes, uh, how did you— "Nevermind. I'm looking for Walter O'Brien?" she added, doubtful.

Three pairs of eyes turned in his direction, Toby's exceedingly amused, of course, as of Happy and Sylvester's…well, they looked mostly confused, although he doubted the mechanic's grin and raised eyebrow could be classified under confused. Walter had never stood up so fast in his life.

Keep it casual, he reminded himself.

The behaviorist seemed like he was about to deliver what was most likely a very embarrassing remark, but luckily, Walter's own curiosity beat him to it. A bright smile appeared on Paige's face as soon as he caught sight of him by his desk and left him momentarily dumbfounded —for the second time in that day, he recalled.

"Paige?" he asked, evidently confused as he rounded his desk awkwardly "W-what are you doing here?"

Walter could almost feel everyone's eyes on him, even Toby's as he politely invited the barista in and rekindled his place at the couch. The genius would've swore he heard kissing sounds as he walked past him, but was happy to see Paige didn't seem to notice when he finally approached her.

She looked the same way she did in the morning, except she had replaced the dark blue apron and white t-shirt underneath, for a loose pink camisole and a denim jacket.

"I'm so glad I found you" she said, her hazelnut eyes were beaming with excitement "you're a very difficult man to find"

"I am?" Walter shook his head "How did you know where I—"

Paige held her finger up in the air as she started rummaging inside her handbag "Hold on”.

"You dropped your wallet at the coffee shop this morning" she said, finally fishing the item from her bag.

It was indeed his wallet what Paige was holding in front of him. It looked foreign in her hand though, had he not patted his back pocket, he would've probably contemplated she was mistaken just like the lost delivery guy. It had been more than twelve hours since he'd been at the coffee shop, how could he have possibly missed that?

"It is my wallet indeed" he said.

"I hope you don't mind me looking inside for some kind of information…" she trailed off "promise I didn't take anything"

"No, no, of course not" Walter added, "I-I would've never thought—"

Paige's eyes looked warm, she smiled at him shyly.

"Thank you" he said after a short pause, bowing his head a little bit.

"No problem" she said, hunching her shoulders "you still owe big time, though"

They stood there for about half a minute looking anywhere but each other, until Walter had the common sense to take the damned wallet from her hand and put it in the back pocket of his pants. What was so intriguing about the stray lock of hair that escaped her pony tail, anyway?

"Well...It was nice seeing you again" she said, offering him a smile before she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

Walter sort of…panicked. He stretched his arm, not quite sure about what he was actually doing, and was just in time to grab the strap of her handbag as she pulled the heavy door open. The cool autumn breeze did nothing to clarify his thoughts, but for once his familiar unfiltered self served him right by blurting out the words: "Is—uh, is there any way I could…repay you?

Paige stood there, halfway in halfway out, for a terrifyingly long second that got Walter thinking about all the ways he could apologize to her, before she finally turned on her heel and faced him again, a wide grin on her face.

She then proceded to fetch a pen from her bag and stuck it between her teeth as she said "You can always try" before grabbing his arm to scribble down a series of numbers on his skin.

Walter looked to his forearm, incredulous. Was that…?

"I like Italian food, by the way" the barista said as she exited the garage.

[trashogram]

Ryuk/Reader 4.5: Not my best 

A/N: This is leading up to the next part, but it’s definitely filler. Feel free to skip?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You trembled, but not from the rain still slicked over your skin.

You’d come home drenched, hopping inside the foyer and up two flights of stairs to your apartment with keys already held out in shaking hands. The trek from work to home had been arduous and you were cold and tired, heartbeat just now coming down from walking alone at night.

But when the door closed behind you and you leaned down to peel off your soaked shoes, you froze. In the corner of your eye, you could see slivers of yellow and red in the far corner of your living room. You weren’t safe after all.

Behind your ribs, your heart seemed to stop altogether as the presence looked at you from above.

“Sorry.” A gravelly voice came from the darkness, not sounding sorry at all. His words came like a ripple, or better yet a riptide; oscillating with his deep, throaty laughter. “- Thought I’d just let myself in.”

“You don’t mind, do you?”

---

“Hey.”

Your shoulders instinctively rose up to your ears, feeling goosebumps beginning to take over your skin.

Playing it off as a stretching exercise, you leaned back and put your weight on the heels of your basic black flats. The bakery floor may have looked shiny, but you were certain that you didn’t have to worry about falling with how sticky it actually was.

You exhaled with relief, pressure alleviated from the blisters reforming on your toes for a moment of mercy.

“Don’t ignore me.”

Your coworker was in the backroom, stacking boxes in an otherwise unkempt pantry of pastry ingredients. Above you, the built-in speaker that played music from your supervisor’s computer in the back office filled up the silence of a currently empty store. The songs from a Top 40 station went in and out of your consciousness, most of them bad and bland.

But they provided some cover. “Quit it. You know I can’t talk to you here.”

Ryuk snorted, having planted himself on the floor behind the register. He peered up from the counter, claws tapping playfully on its surface while his yellow eyes locked on you.

“Yeah, not when there ‘re people around.” He muttered. “But ain’t nobody around right now.”

Despite half-hiding from view, you could see the shinigami’s blue lips stretch upward as he grinned up at you. You sighed.

It was Tuesday, and predictably there hadn’t been that many customers coming round for cake and tarts. Your workplace offered coffee too, but there were multiple shops along the cobbled streets offering the same thing and a few particulars with better publicity and further outreach.

“Well,” You spoke softly. “What do you want?”

“Tell me where we’re going this weekend.”

There was a rattling sound that came from the stockroom, and it muffled the laughter bubbling from your lips. “Oh my god, you’re still on that?”

The gray-blue grin shifted, and you could imagine Ryuk hiding a pout just out of your sight.

You waited as movement caught your eye, and you straightened up to stand on your feet as a woman paused in front of the storefront window. Tufts of her dark hair poked out from beneath the thick woolen scarf around her neck and the heavy designer overcoat wrapped around her shoulders, like straw sticking up from a scarecrow. Her eyes scanned the display cases from outside, ignorant of the smile you plastered on while being watched.

Ryuk was still sitting on the ground, looking at you, but his presence went unchecked. Any stranger on the street would never be able to see the literal god in their little shop, not unless they came in contact with the death note that you always remembered to leave at home.  

“You made it sound so interesting.” Ryuk followed, despite you being unable to answer. “But then you never actually told me what we’re doing.”

The woman walked away after another moment, reaching into her oversized purse and grabbing her lit up phone. It made you sigh again, this time in relief.

Shinigami or no, you were always mollified when someone decided against coming into the shop. It could get boring, sure, but you preferred to be paid to just stand there than to potentially come in contact with busybodies and demanding folk, descriptions that fit that lady to a T.

“I mean, technically we aren’t doing anything.” You turned your nose up at Ryuk teasingly. “I’m the one who got invited, so I’m really the only one that has to be in the know.”

Ryuk pulled himself up off the floor and hunched over you, easily overshadowing your much smaller figure. “That’s not fair.”

You smiled at him, only partially confident until he made your insides squirm.

“But you want me to go with you.” He teased back, bopping your nose with one black talon. “You want me with you wherever you go.”

Instantly, you stuck your tongue out at the demonic entity, snatching up his finger as he continued to tap, tap, tap on your nose just as he’d done with the countertop. “Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.” He mimicked.

Your hand wrapped around his finger without you thinking, and you didn’t let go as you shook your head vehemently, sliding down to rest your fingers on his knuckles. The two of you were practically holding hands, though his dwarfed yours by a wide margin.

“Nuh-uh. Obviously, you’re coming with me because you have to.” You retorted. “I don’t really get to decide.”

Your eyebrow raised at Ryuk’s light snickering. It was a lot softer than his usual hacking laughter. “Bullshit.”

You opened your mouth to retaliate, but stopped short, in part due to confusion. On the other side of the room, a loud thump was heard before your coworker John came out of the storeroom, dragging his feet behind him.

“What’s up?” He nodded to your hand after a cursory glance.

Ryuk’s hand tightened around yours until you had to bite back a sound of surprise, at that and the rumbling that came from him upon being interrupted. It was unusual as, though Ryuk never invested much interest in any of the people you worked with, he was at least genial where John was concerned.

With a tug, you retracted your hand and smiled warmly.

“Just, uh, waving at somebody.” You said. “Waving back, anyway. People are way too friendly, sometimes.”

You moved out of the way to let John get behind you, and watched as he discarded wrappers and tape with a laugh laced in hysteria. “I’d rather they were too friendly than if they were assholes.”

“Hmm, I don’t know.” Your eyes narrowed. “I think you’re not considering the full spectrum of ‘too friendly’ like I am.”

“Well, okay, I mean that’s different.” John grimaced. “Tourists and old ladies with no teeth aren’t that bad compared to that.”

“What? No, the old ladies with no teeth are exactly the ones I’m talking about.” You smirked, eyes rolling up to the ceiling where Ryuk stood, this time hanging upside down. “They’re the real fiends, with their… loose gums… How dare they.”

It made you warm as both John and Ryuk chuckled at your silliness.

---

Out the door and into the crowded streets you went, immediately jamming earbuds into your ears and staring down at your phone. “Finally.”

You merely looked at the screen, not really doing anything but swiping through multiple apps as Ryuk floated beside you.  

“What now?” He asked, head tilting from one side to the other, cracking his neck though you couldn’t hear a thing.

You hummed, starting to walk down the street. “Home. My feet are killing me.”

“Aww,” He had risen higher to avoid the crowd, but you could still hear him as if he were speaking right into your ear. “That’s all?”

“Well, I don’t get paid until Friday, so anything extra automatically costs too much.” You reasoned. “Even if I did have the money though, it would still be better to use over the weekend.”  

“Wait! Yeah!” Ryuk exclaimed. “You still haven’t told me what we’re doing!”

You smirked, standing a little taller as you crossed the street onto another block. Honestly, you weren’t that ecstatic about having plans. If you thought too much about what was essentially going out of your comfort zone come Friday, you would definitely second-guess going at all.

That would only lead to another malaise of self-loathing, which would most definitely lead you to becoming helpless and spiralling into another soul-crushing depression.  

“Are you listening to me? Helloooo?” Ryuk’s voice surfaced in your mind, registering a little later than it should’ve. “Hey, don’t ignore me. We’re not at your work, you can’t pretend I don’t exist anymore!”

The fog around your brain was clearing, but not completely.

“I never ignore you because I want to.” You said monotonously.

Ahead of you was the entrance to the rail station, and you hoped that you’d be able to catch a train without too long of a wait. You weren’t the most patient person on the planet, not after a work day. And in your experience, you often found yourself in the midst of something questionable or creepy while waiting for too long at any stop.

A cursory look around you showed that you’d made it to the tunnel entrance following a lunch rush. There were fewer people this uphill, cramming into the station to head home, with the sun still shining for another hour or two.

“I keep forgetting that the sun sets at like 4 P.M. now” You mused aloud. “I swear I’ll never get used to it, no matter how old I get.”

The lack of a response made you halt, pivoting around to see Ryuk a few feet behind you. Obviously, he’d noticed the lack of people around them and had been freed to meet the ground again, but your head tilted in confusion as he stood back and stared at you.

“... What?” Your brow furrowed. The persistent quiet apart from a few cars passing by and the flicker of street lights coming on unnerved you. “What’s wrong?”  

“Come on.” Awkwardly you simpered, offering a gloved hand to your companion. He looked at your hand, but otherwise didn’t move. Inexplicably you thought back to a few hours prior, when the death god had insisted on trapping your hand in his and not letting it go, not even when John came back to the front.

“What? Are you mad at me or something?” You asked. Your foot began tapping on asphalt, and your blisters screamed. “Because I haven’t told you what we’re doing?”

“Huh?”

You blinked as Ryuk shifted in place, sounding distant. His eyes flitted from your hand back to your face, bright and dazed. “What? Oh. Uh, yeah.”

“If I wanted to, I could write your name down for keeping secrets from me.” He cleared his throat. “Better spit it out.”

Weariness following the weight lifted off your shoulders at the obvious bravado in his tone (because you had no idea what Ryuk was like when he was actually mad), you cracked a smile.

“It’s not the big deal you’re making it out to be. When I tell you, you’ll think it’s stupid.” Your racing heart began to slow, respite increasing as Ryuk took to following you again.

[fruit-teeth]

Gifted

(All right so...this is new. I wrote a story about Sniper’s biological mother from the comics. You’re probably like “hey Mara, why did you write this?” And honestly? I don’t know!! Your guess is as good as mine, it was a story that had been living rent free in my brain for a while and the only way I can deal when that happens is to write it out. I’m posting this even though it might not get many notes, but that’s all right. I wrote something, that’s what matters. Anyway, enjoy, even if it’s sad.)

A ‘gifted child’. That was what everyone told her she was from the moment she learned to read.

She grew up raised by her genius uncle, a man of unparalleled skill when it came to writing. She did not remember her parents, but she had seen pictures of her mother: a beautiful, warm woman with a big smile and dark hair as long and thick as the grass that grew around the lake nearby.

Lar-Nah knew she would never be her mother.

But why did that matter? Everyone told her she was smart, and she knew it, too. She began reading at the age of three, and at five years old, the math she had begun learning at school quickly became too basic for her. She excelled past many people in her grade, and by ten years old, she’d been placed in several advanced classes already. Her uncle paraded her around his peers, telling them how intelligent she was and how proud he was of her. On the surface, she seemed to enjoy the attention. Internally, however, Lar-Nah was incredibly anxious.

The few times she did get poor grades, her uncle would shame her, instilling a fear of failure into his niece at an early age. She soon became obsessed with pleasing him and with pleasing her teachers, rather than reaching achievement for her own enjoyment. But that was all right, she decided. Once she got to a good college (and she was certain she would), she could live independently and never worry about pleasing anyone again.

She did not account for what would happen in her last year of high school.

Lar-Nah looked to the chalkboard one morning and saw something written there that she had not seen before.

“There’s a writing assignment due in two days?” She looked to her teacher for clarification, feeling a flash of panic. “That wasn’t in the calendar,”

The teacher just nodded from where he sat behind his desk, his eyes fixated on the lesson plan for the day. “I know, it’s a mandated writing assignment. The school just required it for all the writing classes,” he looked back up at Lar-Nah. “I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle,”

As he passed out the instruction papers for the assignment, Lar-Nah’s heart sank when she realized just how long this was going to take. Not only that, but she’d meticulously planned out her schedule for the rest of the week — her other classes had a great deal of work due on the same day as this assignment, she realized. Her hands shook as she made the adjustments to her schedule, and she realized with horror that she did not have time to complete everything like she thought she would.

Upon returning home, Lar-Nah headed straight to her uncle’s study and exclaimed, “I have so much work to do! I won’t have time to do all of it! I’m so sorry, something is going to have a zero!”

Her uncle, hunched over his latest piece of writing, grunted back at her, “You are being dramatic.”

“I’m not!” Lar-Nah knelt beside his chair, grabbing his hand. “I need help...can I show you my schedule? There’s so much to do, I don’t know—“

Her uncle stood up, looming over her, his eyes burning straight into her soul. “You’re wasting time!” He barked at her. “Use every moment to work if you have so much, then!”

Lar-Nah’s voice faltered a bit. “E-Every moment?”

“Yes,” he sighed, deep and low. “You will not disappoint me, will you? You will not only complete every bit of work, but you will get the best possible grades on each assignment, won’t you?”

Lar-Nah moved back, standing up slowly. She nodded after a moment. “Yes, Uncle Locke,”

“Good,” he went back to his typewriter, not looking at her. “You are smart, and you are gifted. Gifted people like you can overcome this,”

“...yes,” she murmured, pulling back and heading upstairs to get to work.

The rest of her day was just work. She managed to eat and take a shower, but all the moments in between those activities were spent doing her schoolwork. Lar-Nah did not have many friends anyway, but if any of them came to the door to try and get her attention, she would push them away. She had to focus.

She finished 5 assignments by the time the sun had set. She had six more to go before the dreaded writing assignment, which was now less than 48 hours away from needing to be done. But she decided to go to sleep, despite all the work, as she knew sleeping would give her the energy she needed to keep working.

When she woke up the next morning and went to school, however, her science teacher had an announcement to make.

“My apologies for springing this on you,” he began. “But tomorrow, we have a test,”

Lar-Nah felt like she was going to die on the spot.

“Don’t worry,” the teacher clarified. “It’s a very low-stakes test, but I would advise you study,”

The test was on the same day as the writing assignment, now, and Lar-Nah already had other subjects to do work for. She had never been in this situation before, teachers usually did not assign so much on the same day.

Lar-Nah decided to ask her science teacher about it once class ended. “Um, I hate to ask, but...can the test be moved to a different day?”

Her teacher quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It’s just...I have a lot of work to do,” she explained, scratching the back of her head. “The writing classes have an assignment due tomorrow, too,”

The teacher huffed. “Now, Miss Lar-Nah, I know there’s a writing assignment due. But can you imagine if I arranged every schedule of mine based on how busy the students are? Why, that would be pure chaos!” He laughed, although Lar-Nah could not understand why this was funny. He went on. “Besides, you’re a very gifted student. This is nothing you can’t handle,”

“...yes, sir,” she nodded, feeling her heart pound from anxiety. Still, she gathered her books and headed to her next class, just like she always did.

The afternoon that followed was pure chaos. Lar-Nah barely ate, and she poured all of her energy into finishing the assignments as quickly and as efficiently as possible. By evening, she had only the writing assignment and the studying for the test left, though her hands were shaking and her body was screaming for rest.

“Uncle Locke?” She stood at the top of the stairs, looking down to where he was seated in the living room. “Uncle Locke, when is dinner?”

He looked up at her, watching her expression. “Are you done with your work yet?”

Lar-Nah shifted from foot to foot. “Well...no...”

He sighed. “Have some water and some bread, and then get back to work. That will put much pressure on you, but it will make you want to work harder,”

Lar-Nah felt tears welling in her eyes. “I’m so tired...” she murmured, her fists clenching. “Please, I need...i need to eat or something, I—“

“Bread and water is food!” Her uncle barked again. “And stop being so dramatic! Wipe your eyes and eat some bread, then get back to work.”

Lar-Nah swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing the tears back the best she could. “Yes,”

Once she’d eaten a slice of bread and downed a glass of water, she went straight back to work. Within the next few hours, she hunched over her typewriter and wrote the rest of the writing assignment, following the instructions the best she could.

By the time she was finished with that, it was well into the night and far past her bedtime. She did not know if her uncle was still awake, but she knew that he would want her to keep going, to finish everything. She opened up her science book to study for her exam, and that was the last thing she remembered.

The next thing Lar-Nah knew, her alarm’s shrill cry jolted her awake. She sat up quickly, and then groaned in pain, feeling the stiffness in her neck, back and shoulders, not to mention there was an uncomfortable stickiness on her cheek and chin...

She looked down, realizing that she’d fallen asleep on her science book, still in her daytime clothes. It then dawned on her that she hadn’t studied for the test— she’d fallen asleep instead.

As Lar-Nah tried to clean up the best she could for school, she internally warred with herself over her failure to study. The teacher had said it was a low stakes test, so it didn’t matter what grade she got, right? But at the same time, she had never failed a test before...what if this was the first one she failed? The thought made her feel sick.

Still, she felt a bit of relief as she handed in the writing assignment at school that morning, thankful to have that out of the way. As she turned her back to return to her seat, though, her writing teacher got her attention again.

“Lar-Nah?” He gestured for her to come closer. “Where are your citations?”

Lar-Nah paused, feeling herself go pale. “...citations?” When he nodded, she took a shaky breath in. “The instructions didn’t say we had to cite anything,”

Her teacher held up the instruction sheet again. “It’s right there, see?” He pointed to the very small paragraph towards the bottom that listed the instructions for citing sources. “Did you not read those?”

When Lar-Nah stood like a deer in headlights, staring at the sheet of paper, her teacher let out a long sigh. “I see...go take a seat, Lar-Nah,”

Lar-Nah slowly headed down to her desk, sitting down. She’d gotten something wrong— she’d gotten something wrong and now her teacher was mad. Surely, she was going to fail, and her uncle would find out. All hell would soon break loose, she knew that much.

The science test was a blur. Lar-Nah wrote in whatever answers made sense to her, but her heart pounded the whole time. Once it was over, she was certain she had failed, and to avoid any disappointment from her science teacher, she sprinted out into the hallways, desperate to just get through the day and then go home.

But home would never be the same. Once Lar-Nah got to her uncle’s study, she burst into tears and fell to the floor.

Startled, her uncle stood up and pulled her to her feet. ‘Good lord, child! What’s become of you!? Pull yourself together!”

Lar-Nah sobbed, covering her face. “I missed the citations on the writing assignment and I failed my science test!”

He pulled away from her a bit. “What?”

“I did it all wrong!” Lar-Nah wept, tears rolling down her face like rain. “My teachers are furious with me! But its not my fault, I had so much work!”

“So much work!?” Her uncle repeated, gritting his teeth. “You don’t know the meaning of true work, you silly girl!” He sighed, pacing around, his hands clenched into fists. “I knew it— I knew this would all come crumbling!”

Lar-Nah sniffled, taking a step back. “But...w-what was I supposed to do? Stay up all night and never sleep!?”

“Your problem is you don’t work efficiently!” Her uncle insisted. “You don’t...” he sighed again, turning back on his heel. “Pah! What am I saying? You are a woman! Women are far too dramatic to get on a level with men such as myself!”

When he said that, something broke in Lar-Nah. Something snapped— little sleep, limited food, and constant stress all bubbled to the surface, and she couldn’t stand it anymore. As her uncle had his back turned, she grabbed the heavy, stone ash tray off the shelf and slammed him on the back of the head with it.

He collapsed, falling face first into the type writer and then sliding to the floor with a ‘thump’. Lar-Nah hovered over his lifeless body, before dropping the ash tray and heading upstairs to take a shower.

It wasn’t until she returned from her shower and heard the police outside the door that she realized her uncle had died. A neighbor had seen the interaction from outside the window, and had subsequently called the police when she saw Lar-Nah strike her uncle with the ash tray. Lar-Nah was then arrested and placed on trial, though after a psychiatric examination, she was determined to be unfit for a trial and was instead placed into a mental institution. She was seventeen years old at the time.

Lar-Nah remained at the institution for roughly four years, the same amount of time she would have spent at a college. By the end of the four years, she hardly cared about anything anymore: her emotions had completely numbed. She could not remember the last time she had truly smiled or laughed, and once she left the institution, she met the man who would end up becoming her husband. She married him, although she wasn’t quite sure why. He had money...that was about it.

Lar-Nah became a passenger of her own life. She stopped trying, she stopped searching for true happiness and instead focused on whatever made her feel good in the moment. That was all that mattered to her. Her uncle, the writing assignment, school, grades...it all felt like some distant nightmare. Sometimes she wondered if she had never truly been born, but rather materialized to just to get married.

There came a moment, though, when she was six months pregnant and laying in bed alone, listening to the leaky roof above her, that her mind took her somewhere else. Behind her eyes, she could see herself standing on the shore of the lake, amongst the tall grass, and beside her stood a figure. It was her mother— with her beautiful face and long flowing hair, the pinnacle of perfection...Lar-Nah reached for her, but just like that, she was gone, and Lar-Nah was alone again, alone in the vast void of her own soul, a place she would ultimately end up in when all was said and done.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Help Wanted (chapter four)

Huge thanks to my amazing betas @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short!

Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 if you’d like to support my writing! 

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

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WARNING: This chapter and the next few will deal with Fjord coping with his own sexuality and internalised homophobia. Avoid if this is a trigger for you.

Caduceus and Fjord start coming closer, when something comes roaring up to pull them apart

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“So...Caduceus, huh?”

Beau wasn’t very good at difficult conversations. She knew that. Whenever she had to have one, whether it was navigating her relationship with her girlfriends, letting Jester know when she needed some quiet time or getting Yasha to be more open about how she was feeling, the person she usually turned to was Fjord. He’d never say it himself but he was good at feelings talk, at least when he was out of his own head. Even when he’d been far away, the two of them had texted whenever he was docked, and he’d always been able to help her figure out what to say. Not that she could tell him that. He’d have cringed and gotten awkward about it and insisted he was really no good at ‘soft stuff’.

And Beau would have felt that urge to slap the hell out of that Vandran guy. And Avantika. And everyone else who’d ever made Fjord feel like he was worthless if he wasn’t ‘strong’. But that would have taken a long time.

But this time, she couldn’t ask Fjord what to say or how to make her smile look less like a grimace or how not to come off like a grumpy asshole. Because the person she wanted to have this tricky conversation with was Fjord himself.

And so far it was going as well as she’d expected.

Fjord gave her a puzzled look from across the counter, “Caduceus. Yeah, I know the fellah. Tall, furry, dresses like a college age stoner. I only see him every day but Sundays.”

“Damn, that is exactly how he dresses…” Beau muttered, looking across at where Cad himself was standing, seeing his drop crotch pants in an eye watering geometric print in a new light, “Anyway, I just mean...he’s nice, right?”

Fjord narrowed his eyes, “Uh, yeah. He is nice.”

“And you’ve been getting on really well?”

“I guess, yeah. We talk a lot, we’ve actually started texting. I don’t think he’s ever done it before but he seems like he’s getting the hang of it...I know he seems a little slow but he’s actually way smarter than people realise, he knows more about plants than, well, anyone I think and all this stuff he just remembers off the top of his head, his memory for some stuff just crazy. Last night when we were texting, he was describing how to make some real complicated stew thing and I know for a fact he didn’t have the recipe book because that's here and he wasn’t googling it because I don’t think he knows how to do that but he remembered everything about it…” he stopped, like he’d just realised how long he’d been talking and flushed, “Beau, when are you getting to your point?”

Beau cursed internally. The answer was she had no idea. But she had to try.

“Just sayin’... seems like you’ve got a bit of a...a thing going on with him. A connection.”

That had definitely been the wrong thing to say. Fjord’s shoulders immediately hunched, his jaw set in that stubborn, defensive way. The blush became a fire across his face, turning his green skin splotchy. He looked like a teenager caught spray painting a wall.

“What? He’s just a friend,” he said, more curt than he probably realised, “Like I said, I see him every day. I’m allowed to have friends, ain’t I?”

Beau held up her palms, getting the strong sensation that Fjord wasn’t talking to her anymore, not in his head anyway, “Sure, sure. Course.”

“You and Jess said I should work here, you wanted me to get to know him, that’s all I’m doing-”

“Right!” Beau raised her voice a little, frowning, “I know, Fjord, I know. Jeez, I was just asking…”

“Well maybe don’t next time,” he snapped, “He’s just a friend...here’s your coffee.”

The last part was muttered a little resentfully as he pushed the biodegradable cup towards her more forcefully than he needed to, quickly turning on his heel and nearly fleeing into the kitchen, with a half caught comment about having work to do.

Beau groaned and slumped on her stool. She knew exactly what was going to happen now, Fjord would spend a day being cold and awkward around her then would snap right back to the way they’d been before, as if the botched conversation had never happened. That’s how it had gone every other time Beau had tried to steer him into talking about...well, anything even remotely adjacent to that.

She’d tried before Caduceus was ever in the picture. She’d tried to bring it up around bonfires they’d set on the beach on weekends Fjord had stayed with her because the orphanage was crushing him, on the nights they’d sneak onto the school field when her own home became unbearable to be in and she needed to talk to someone who didn’t treat her like she was a mistake for being herself. She’d waited expectantly when she’d come out to him, at their usual booth in the cheap diner they both frequented, like there was a second half to the conversation in the wings.

None had worked. How were you supposed to tell someone you saw something in them when they didn’t see it themselves? When other parts of them, parts that had been transplanted in against their will, would hate it and punish them for it?

As little as she liked it, Beau realised all she could do was sit back and hope against hope that something would grow in Fjord.

Well, she sighed as she jumped down and went to head to class, if anyone could make something grow in the harshest conditions it was Caduceus.

It happened so slowly.

It started with side glances, Fjord clearly noticing things he hadn’t before. Things like the tattoo at the base of Caduceus’ neck that was only visible when he wore his hair with his undercut exposed. Things like the swirl of smooth oak he wore through the hole in his ear. Things like the markings he shaved into the fur around his wrist on certain days, namely the week when the seasons were shifting, as spring became summer. They’d always been part of him, of course but now Fjord’s eye seemed drawn to them more than ever.

And then it became questions. Not big questions but small ones that betrayed a much bigger curiosity. One day, when Fjord came in to find Cad meditating on the floor in the middle of the cafe, he politely tiptoed around him and left him to it. But he spent the morning clearly chewing over a question and finally, as the two of them sat and ate lunch in the kitchen, he burst out and asked if Cad thought about anything in particular when he did that or if he just let his mind wander. Cad had smiled and happily ran him through some meditation basics, breathing and thought exercises and such. Fjord had listened intently before quickly busying himself with his sandwich and mumbling something about it sounding interesting but not really for him.

The next day, he’d asked Cad if talking to the plants as he did counted as talking to his goddess too. Then he’d asked if she had a particular special day or if she had a temple of some kind somewhere. Then he’d asked if the way Caduceus did his hair had something to do with her whole spiral thing, the way he usually did it in braided buns on either side of his head.

Cad answered every question patiently, as if simply indulging his friend’s curiosity. After all, she was a lesser known deity in these parts, of course she’d seem interesting to someone who had grown up in a city. But each one lit a hope in his chest, like fireflies buzzing in his ribcage.

And then it wasn’t a question, it was a realisation.

“That’s a wave, isn’t it?”

Caduceus looked up from where he was lounging on one of the sofas, sewing a torn cushion back together, “Hm?”

Fjord was over in the corner, one of the carved talismans in his hand. There were several dotted around the store, looking just like indoor rockery amongst the plants or interesting art sculptures. But if someone knew what they were looking for, they’d see them everywhere. This one was a palm sized river rock, carved with the Wildmother’s spiral and painted in watercolours. His sister had made it for him before he’d left, pressing it into his palm as he’d been packing, when the rest of his family had already started keeping their distance.

Clarabelle had always been a favourite of his.

It seemed to fit perfectly in Fjord’s palm and he was studying it like he had no idea how it had gotten there, the watering can hanging limp and forgotten in his other hand.

“The symbol,” he murmured, face creased in a gentle, curious frown, “It’s a wave, isn’t it?”

Cad leaned forward, setting his needle and thread to one side, lazily resting his chin on his knees, “It is. Melora’s of the sea as well as the forest. Where’s wilder than the sea, after all?”

“I...I didn’t know that,” Fjord’s voice was small and his eyes hadn’t lifted from the talisman.

Cad nodded, “She guides the passage of ships and protects those who sail the waves, anywhere in the world. Particularly from storms.”

That snapped Fjord’s eyes up, as if one of the words Cad had spoken was a fishing line that he’d jerked, “Really?’

Cad tried to feel nothing at the sudden intensity in the half orc’s stare, “Yes. She’s all about protection and balance when people travel through wild places. Keeping things as they should be.”

Again, something about that tugged at Fjord. Enough to make him set down the watering can and come to sit on the sofa opposite Caduceus’, leaning forward on his knees. The quiet of the cafe after hours seemed to intensify, wrap around them as if they weren’t just the only two people in the building but the whole world.

“You said she’s about healing,” his voice was raspy, like he was having to fight to keep some emotion out of it, “But what about...forgiving?”

Cad blinked slowly, ears twitching, “Forgiving?”

Fjord lowered his voice, “Like if you’d...done something you weren’t proud of. Or thought something or...or you were something you weren’t proud of...or at least you thought you should be...would she still…” he seemed unable to keep going, like he was grasping for words that weren’t there.

Cad took a moment to really look at him before he answered. It was like he was seeing him in a different light, the way the colour of some eyes could look completely different depending on where you stood. There was a fear in Fjord’s face he’d never seen before, a kind of raw and innocent fear that belonged to a child. A child who didn’t understand why he’d been hurt as badly as he had. Who’d spend his life trying to reason out that hurt, finding flaws in himself that weren’t there, just to justify it all. Because if it wasn’t there then the world was just plain cruel and that couldn’t be true.

Cad was good at reading people, he was good at understanding faces and the feelings behind them. But he hadn’t seen this. And it broke his heart.

“Fjord,” he eventually murmured, wanting so badly to reach across the table to him but knowing that would do more harm than good, “Nothing is unforgivable. Certainly nothing you’ve done. And some things...some things don’t even require forgiveness, no matter what other people have told you.”

Fjord swallowed hard, “And she...she’d think so too?”

“Without hesitation,” Cad answered immediately, never breaking his gaze.

At that, something in Fjord seemed to recede, pull away. Something that didn’t have form or shape or colour so it was hard to say how it did it, but the sensation was unmistakable. A kind of...darkness had withdrawn ever so slightly.

And he managed to nod.

Thank you, thank you, thank you Cad chanted desperately in his head as he kept his face in a gentle smile and reached over to Fjord, putting his large hands over the half orc’s callused ones and closing his fingers over the talisman in.

“Why don’t you keep that, Fjord?” he murmured, “I want you to have it.”

Fjord opened his mouth to insist he couldn’t but Caduceus was already shaking his head, “It’s not a promise or anything, it’s just...a gift. It’s just a gift. From one friend to another.”

Fjord bit his lip, though the anxiety in his eyes was bleeding away, “I…”

Cad’s hands were still on Fjord’s, somehow he’d not taken them away yet, “Just use it as a reminder that...you’re good, Fjord. No matter what you’ve been told, you’re fundamentally good. And change is always possible.”

“Caduceus…” It was part question, part plea for help, part just saying his name because he wanted to hear it out loud.

There was so much more he wanted to say in return, words beating in his mouth like a second heartbeat, straining for flight. Words that would chase that darkness away for good, make it flinch so he could catch it in his hands and show Fjord how small and twisted and wrong it really was, how he didn’t have to believe what it said ever again. How it had never been part of him but something he’d been forced to take.

And then everything broke into a hundred pieces as a car horn blared outside, again and again like an angry heartbeat. Both of them jumped a mile, Cad’s ears flattening against his head and Fjord whipping around as if expecting a blow.

“Oh…” he eventually said, when the shock had died down to just an unpleasant buzz in the nerves, “It’s Avantika…”

Sure enough, past the windows and the doodles of plants and mushrooms Jester had done for Cad in glass paints when he’d first opened, out on the darkened street was a car. The horn blared again, a shout into the previously calm twilight.

“She never normally comes to get me this late,” Fjord looked lost, still childlike and terrified, “Why…I should go…”

There was a pause then, a pause that could have lasted a lifetime to the two men caught in it. A possibility bloomed between them, a road opening up in a held breath. And then a choice was silently made. Fjord stood up, a different man, broader shouldered and with a set jaw and a mask on his face he’d worn for so long.

“I’m sorry, Cad,” this other man said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Right,” Cad murmured, still reeling, “Tomorrow.”

He went to stand too but then he felt it, the talisman. Not in Fjord’s hands but his own, left there, abandoned like a broken promise.

And for a moment, the other man was gone as Fjord whispered, “I’m sorry, Cad,” and fled, taking any unspoken words with him out into the night.

The door falling shut behind him sounded louder than it had any right to.

For a long time Cad stayed sat down, looking at the talisman left in his hands, all strength to stand gone out of him. He heard the car door slamming shut outside, the tyres screeching against the road as it drove away but he didn’t look to see it happen.

He didn’t understand.

Caduceus was still yawning as he walked from where he parked to the front of the cafe. He hadn’t slept well in the night, for obvious reasons, and was feeling every minute of tossing and turning as he walked through a chilly dawn.

The tiredness wasn’t helping him work out how he was going to approach Fjord today. He didn’t want things to be awkward, he didn’t want to lose a friend. But he couldn’t figure out how on earth he was supposed to keep that from happening after things had gone so disastrously wrong. Had he pushed him? Had he come off controlling? Had he seen a desire in Fjord that hadn’t really been there, that he’d only wanted to see?

Caduceus was used to being so sure of his decisions. Even when they’d been the rash, impulsive decisions of his youth, even when no one else seemed to follow his reasoning, at least he’d always been secure in his next step forward. Like the paths through the grove he’d walked so many times, he always knew where he was setting his feet.

Now he couldn’t even be sure there was ground underneath him at all. And if he didn’t find it soon, he’d lose sight of Fjord completely.

As he rounded the corner, out onto the quiet little street where his cafe stood, he realised with a sinking heart that he had no time left to figure it out. Because Fjord was already there, under the still glowing street lamp outside the door, hunched against the chill in that threadbare hoodie of his.

Cad’s ears drooped and he prayed for wisdom as he crossed the space between them, trying to smile.

“Morning, Fjord,” he called when there was still a few yards between them, “You’re early…”

The closer he got, the more his tiredness was replaced with a cold, heavy dread. Because Fjord looked fine. Far too fine. Like he was holding it that way quite deliberately because behind it all was something else.

“Uh, yeah,” even his voice was measured, like an actor delivering lines, “I came in a little early because...because I need to talk to you about something.”

“Well,” Cad turned to unlock the door, “We can talk inside, it’s a little too chilly to-”

“No,” Fjord interrupted, “I think I need to say this now, Caduceus.”

He stopped, the dread crystallising into a full on fear in his stomach, key freezing halfway in the lock, “...oh?”

“I’m leaving.”

And there it was.

Fjord broke, unable to look at him anymore, eyes falling to the pavement between them, “Avantika bought a ship. Well...we bought a ship, really but...thats why she came to get me last night, to tell me. She got tired of waiting for another captain to take us on so...so I guess we’re just doing it ourselves. We won’t be setting out right away but I need to go help get everything ready so...tomorrow’s going to be my last day.”

There was a second long pause, before the key turned in the lock with a sharp click. Cad stepped inside, still not having said a word, calmly slipping off his coat and putting on his apron, the only sign he’d heard being a tremble in his hands as he knotted it in the front.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he finally said, voice quiet, “We can talk more about the logistics of that but I need to go and get the produce out for today. You can sort out the tables. I’ll be in the store room if you need me.”

Fjord’s eyes were up, looking shocked and confused, like he’d been waiting for an explosion that hadn’t come, “Sure...yeah, I can do that…”

“Right,” Cad stepped away into the back room and down the steps into the basement, walking quickly, keeping his head up and his jaw still just in case Fjord was still looking.

It was only when the heavy door of the store room closed behind him, so he knew that he had a good ten minutes before anyone would get suspicious and enough distance that no one would hear, only then did he stop and sit down heavily on a wooden box.

Only then did Caduceus allow himself to sob.

[dontgotothenetherworld]

love alarm au 2 (frankie x phoenix)

p1

i really enjoyed this au, so i decided to write a second part! this one starts at about the same time as the last part ended, right after frankie walks off.

2005 words

cw: nbjo.

frankie was determined to figure out who had rang her alarm. she told y/n earlier that she didn’t care, but that was a lie. she just didn’t want you prying.

she was certain there was only two people who had runge her alarm. she knew that jo was one. it was incredibly awkward that she hadn’t rung their alarm, but they were bound to figure it out sooner or later.

but the second? frankie needed to know.

as she had been walking to y/n’s classroom, she had walked past the library, with her love alarm app open, obviously, and it had gone off. the number had quickly jumped back down to zero as she kept walking, so frankie assumed the person was inside.

she turned the corner, out of sight from you and her brother, and began running to the library. she wasn’t sure how long this person would be there, or if they had already left.

she ripped the door open. she quickly composed herself when she saw a boy, who had been walking toward the exit, staring at her oddly. the boy was familiar, recently transferred to her english class.

”oh! hi! phoenix, what are you doing here?” frankie asked.

”checking out a book, obviously.” he held up a thin green paperback. “is that not what you’re here to do?”

”uhh not exactly.” frankie pulled her phone out, “you see, i have love alarm, do you have it? anyway, i was walking by here earlier, and someone rang it. so, on the off chance that they’re still in here, i really need to know who it is. is there anyone else here?” frankie blurted.

”slow down there, frankie.” phoenix laughed.

”do you have love alarm?” frankie asked again, this time showing him her screen open to the app.

”i downloaded it this morning,” phoenix started, “but i deleted it a little while ago.”

frankie deflated a bit. “why’d you do that? also, is anyone else in here?” frankie looked over his shoulders.

phoenix looked back. “unless the it’s the librarian, which i think would be kind of illegal, i don’t think so.”

frankie squinted her eyes at the librarian. he was a recent college graduate, and had quite a collection of literature themed button up shirts. “y’know… illegal, but…”

”very illegal, please get that idea out of your head.”

”thought gone, head empty, happy?”

phoenix laughed, “sure.”

”wait, so why did you delete the app?”

phoenix shrugged, “it just didn’t sit right to me. i really don’t feel like love should be told by an app. and also i just moved here, so it’s basically definite that now one gives a shit about me yet.”

frankie, who really hoped that phoenix had rung her alarm earlier, asked, “did it ring while you had it?”

phoenix looked down, embarrassed, “i only checked in crowded places, because… more people, it’s more likely that one of them has a crush on me. that’s how it works, right? maybe not because it didn’t change from zero all day.”

frankie reached out to grab his arm, to try to comfort him.

”what about you? i mean, obviously at least one person did, because you barrelled in here.”

frankie hesitated for a second, “just the one.” she lied. she didn’t really think it over, the lie. but she wanted him to think that she would definitely be available to him, if he had a crush on her. she would be anyway, but it’s a bit harder to explain the best friends with benefits, where one person accidentally caught feelings, situation she had with jo. well, it wasn’t hard to explain, but she didn’t want to give phoenix the wrong impression. but he seemed understanding, so he might get it.

whatever, she had already said the lie. too late to take it back now.

phoenix was very attractive, she’d stop fucking with jo to fall in love with him in a heartbeat. frankie was suddenly glad that he had deleted the app, otherwise sometime during their conversation, his alarm would suddenly go off, and it definitely wasn’t the hot librarian.

frankie glanced at the hot librarian again. if only it weren’t so illegal.... frankie should read more often. damn. 

”well, i’ve got to go. and since you involved me in this, i am now very invested in if you figure out who this person is, can i please give you my number so you can keep me updated.” said phoenix.

”uh sure.” frankie handed him her phone.

”i know this is a weird way to make friends, but hey, i’m new. text me even if it’s not love alarm related.” phoenix smiled and started walking out, towards the parking lot.

frankie briefly considered chasing after him, begging him to redownload love alarm, and rejoice in their shared ring, but decided otherwise. she had a book to check out, anyway.

phoenix was somehow able to act cool the entire time he was talking to frankie, but now that he was by himself, he was shaking like a car on an old wooden roller coaster. it was bad, but luckily most everyone else had already left the school. or else they were in the school, doing club stuff, or on some unseen field. 

phoenix slid into the driver’s seat of his dad’s old car, even though he had no intention of driving home at that time. he needed to relax a little before he felt he would be safe enough on the road.

phoenix opened the book he had just checked out from the library. the perks of being a wallflower. the librarian, who frankie thought was attractive, had recommended it to him. phoenix had been expecting a less well known recommendation from a guy who looked like he considered ‘indie’ to be one of his personality traits. not only that, he looked like the kind of guy who had a superiority complex about liking things that no one else had ever heard of.

phoenix read about two and a half sentences before he noticed something moving from the corner of his eye. one of the only other cars in his row, a good five or so spaces down, there was someone hunched over their steering wheel.

phoenix turned back to his book. he had decided that whatever they were going through was none of his business.

he looked up again. the person had straightened up, and he was able to see their tear streaked face.

phoenix turned back to his book, but he was contemplating why they were crying, instead of really absorbing the words.

phoenix turned back to look at them. this person just looked like they needed someone to vent to. or at least just know that they could vent to someone if they needed to.

phoenix had made up his mind, he was going to walk over to them. he felt a little bit of anxiety, worried that they might be rude to him, even though he just wanted to help, but he decided that potentially making them feel better was worth it. but what if he made them feel worse? shit... 

phoenix knocked on the driver’s side window. they lowered it.

pawing away at their tears they said, “what do you want.”

it slightly bother phoenix that they phrased a question as a statement, but he said, “you were, um, crying and stuff, and i wanted to know if you needed to, uh, vent to someone. but if that’s stupid and i shouldn’t have walked over here, i can drive off and pretend this never happened.”

they stared at him oddly. “y’know what? i do need to vent, thanks.” they unlocked the car doors, and gestured for phoenix to sit shotgun.

”i’m phoenix, by the way.” he said as he sat.

”jo.” they rolled up their window. “so... “ they tried to figure out where to start, “my best friend and i, well… a while ago we started hooking up. i thought that she had feelings for me, right? but thanks to this fucking love alarm, she knows that i have feelings for her, but my alarm hasn’t gone off once! all day!”

”that sucks, but you know people can’t control their feelings…”

”i know that! i’m not really even upset about that. it’s just… she hasn’t addressed it. she hasn’t mentioned it. and she seems to still want to hook up with me!”

”and you want more than that?”

”hell no! not if she doesn’t have feelings for me! i just want her to stop using me. i either want her to be just my friend, or my girlfriend.”

”have you tried telling her that?” phoenix was trying to be supportive, but he was pretty sure he was just become the combination of every scene like this that he had seen in movies or tv shows, and he was just regurgitating those words.

”i don’t think she’d listen…” jo said glumly. “frankie cares about herself far more than she cares about anyone else.”

frankie? wait a minute, what’s going on here… “frankie healy?” phoenix asked.

”yeah, why?”

phoenix started thinking out loud, “so… i was just talking to her in the library, and she said that only one person had rung her love alarm all day, but… you just said you rang hers, and she told me that she was trying to figure out who it was that rang hers.”

”she was trying to figure it out? she told me that she didn’t care. and why the fuck would she say that only one person rang hers?”

”i’m trying to figure that out too. what would she have to gain from telling me that?”

”probably avoiding talking about our relationship, like she always does…”

the two sat in silence, mulling over their newfound knowledge.

jo suddenly realized something. they looked up at phoenix, “she likes you.”

”what?”

”she didn’t want you to think that there was anyone else in the way of you dating her, so she conveniently didn’t mention me.”

”that’s ridiculous, she doesn’t even know who rang her alarm. the other person, that is.”

”did you open the app with her?”

”no, i deleted it like an hour ago.”

”do me a favor, and don’t download it again.” jo advised. “she definitely thinks it’s you who rang her alarm, and i don’t think she cares if she’s wrong.”

”what do you mean?” phoenix asked.

jo groaned. “this damn has probably just made it easier for her. she’ll use it to find people who like her, then use the people until she’s done with them.”

”wait a minute, you don’t know that.”

”yes i do, i have super psychic powers, and i’m predicting the future for you! you don’t want to just be the first person in her string of flings, do you?”

”i… don’t think so. but wait, frankie seems so nice.”

”that’s how she gets you! ugh i am definitely going to tell her how i feel.” jo got their phone out and started texting. “thank you so much for this, phoenix.”

phoenix took that as them asking him to leave.

”oh, wait. what’s your number? i need to keep you updated on this.”

phoenix told them, and they sent a smiley face.

”i should probably get going.” he said, glancing at the time on his phone.

”okay, bye! seriously, i really needed this conversation, so i’m going to thank you some more.” they smiled at him.

phoenix weakly smiled back, and jogged back to his car. he started the engine, even though his head was up in the clouds.

was that a good thing? did he do jo a favor with that? or was he just the catalyst in their radical conclusion?

he figured that jo would’ve ended up at that, no matter if he had talked to them or not, but he still felt personally responsible.

he checked the time. shit, he was going to have to hurry home if he wanted to drop his school stuff off before work.

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi

[baileymacias]

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[realm-sweet-realm]

To act in your stead

Sorry this chapter took so long. I hope you enjoy it. It is chapter 3 of the body swap to the death Au.

---

Susie looked up at the ink pipes she’d installed. A child would have been able to tell where the professionally-installed pipes ended and hers began. They were crooked, going up and down like a zigzag at every joint. As a result, a few of them leaking slightly. Hopefully, they were easily fixed and she was doing more than wasting a week or more of Tom’s work schedule. Hopefully, they’d stay together for another four days. She’d reduced the ink pressure to make that a little more likely, at least. “Hey, Tom! Get over here!” An irritable voice came from behind her.

It was Sammy. Tom hated Sammy, so she rolled her eyes and gave him a sharp look. “What?”

“Come with me to my office!”

Susie just nodded. Normally she would have been intimidated, but she was beginning to see why Tom wouldn’t have been. Sammy looked tiny compared to her now, and wasn’t scary in the least even as he was stomping and angry like this.

Once the two of them were in Sammy’s office and the door was closed, Sammy uncurled his fists and stopped looking so angry. “Sorry about that,” he said. “So... without giving too much away, I’m a person who knows a thing or two about mechanics, and it looked like you needed help. Can I help you?”

Susie tried not to look too happy. This was a godsend. “Yes, that would be nice.”

“Excellent. So, obviously I can’t just go on out there and start getting my hands dirty, but I could tell you what you’re doing wrong. First, are you cutting the pipes?”

“They need to be cut?”

Allison had no idea, but suspected they didn’t. “Of course. If they’re the wrong length, they’ll all be crooked, and they’ll wear out in a matter of weeks.”

“What do I cut them with?”

“An electric hand saw. Do you have one at home?”

“I don’t know. There’s a lot of tools in the garage. Some looked electric. One might be a handsaw.”

“Well, I’m sure that there’s something there that we can use to cut pipes. If you want me to come over, I could show you how to use it.”

“Sounds good, thank you. I’ll come find you at six,” Susie deadpanned. Once she left and immediately found a quiet place where she could let her happiness out. Thank goodness, now she’d be able to actually do this properly! Unfortunately, whoever “Sammy” was hadn’t dropped any hints, though. The kindness sheer lack of emotionality suggested Henry, but the mechanical knowledge suggested Thomas. It must have been Lacie. She seemed like she had the capacity for both.

That evening, “Thomas” took Allison back to her and Tom’s house. Allison knew where the handsaw was, but she pretended to search the shelves until “Thomas” fished it out of the drawer.

“Okay,” Allison said, setting a board up on the sawhorse, “Let’s practice with some wooden boards before moving on to pipes. So, you’ll want to have it on a solid surface when you turn it on, like this.” She pressed a button on it and it came to life. “Want me to demonstrate how to cut a board?”

“I’d love that,” “Thomas” said, still in his gravelly voice. He wasn’t giving away any hints. Well, reaction to fear might end up being a giveaway.

Allison transferred the saw to her left hand and held the board with her right. “Alright. Just like this.” She began cutting, spraying sawdust and making that horrible saw noise. She was so uncoordinated with her left hand that she wasn’t sure she could pull this off.

Susie watched, disturbed that Sammy was cutting towards his hand. But, he probably knew what he was doing. Once it got close enough, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Sammy, move your hand!”

“What? I always-“ and then it happened. The handsaw was spraying blood, and her hand was being cut between the thumb and index finger. It was no small feat of willpower to force the blade a little further before turning it off. Allison was screaming. Susie was screaming. She ran into the house.

“Sammy!” she called “Get the first aid kit!” Oh, this was too good. Allison had noticed how irritable “Allison” had been, and she’d suspected that a lot of people were switched in pairs, but now she had confirmation.

“Thomas” and “Allison” came back into the garage. The look on “Allison’s” face was priceless as he caught sight of the mess of his hand. “What have you done?!” he yelled. “How will you play instruments like that?!”

At this point, Allison realized that she hadn’t actually looked at the damages yet. They were bad. The blood running down it and squirting from some ruptured artery she’d been able to feel, but the sawdust trapped inside of it- well, that was a bonus. It would probably get infected. The cut was long and deep, too. He was lucky that all the fingers were still attached. She was lucky it was throbbing so hard, or she would have had trouble hiding her satisfaction.

Twenty minutes later, Allison’s wound had been washed and bandaged, and the look of terror still hadn’t fully left Sammy’s face. He couldn’t express anger at her without revealing himself, of course, but Allison could sense it in him. When he looked at her, she could just see him silently yelling out the question: “who are you? Why did you do this to me?!”

—-

Aside from Allison’s revenge, the only notable thing that had happened on Wednesday was that “Joey” had proposed to “Henry” that they gather the players at his house a few hours before seven, so that none of them would be doing anything dangerous when it happened. This served several purposes. For one, it would allow Henry to see his kids, maybe for the last time. For another, it would give him an opportunity to drop off evidence at his house. He’d bring it in champagne boxes and slip them into his room when no one was watching. Joey was happy with the arrangement as well: he had several hunches but was only certain of three identities at the moment, and packing everyone into a closed space where they’d be all but forced to interact seemed like a great way to figure some out. He was getting a little desperate, and he wasn’t the only one.

Come Thursday morning, Bertrum was running out of time and he knew it. Not survival-wise, of course: decades in the public eye had left him with some excellent people-reading skills, and he had fair guesses on at least three or four identities. He was also quite the actor, and, since he had no idea what Jack Fain was like, had been pretending to be a different person every day that week to throw anyone off his trail. Yes, survival-wise, he was doing great. But he still hadn’t caught a single glimpse of himself, and the meeting was tonight. And so, Bertrum was standing at the only entrance to Joey Drew Studios in wait.

Finally, “Bertrum” came in, and “Jack” didn’t hesitate to stop him. “Can I speak with you?”

“Oh, uh, sure. I’m in no particular rush.” Whoever this was, they were putting no effort at all into being the Great Bertrum Piedmont, aside from a poorly faked deep, British voice. But now wasn’t the time to be guessing identities.

“This will take all day.”

“Oh, okay. Well, first I need to go check on the Bendyland employees, and have an in-depth meeting with Lacie. Can I meet you back here later?”

Bertrum supposed he could use an opportunity to see what he had to work with. “I’ll come with you,” he insisted.

“Well, okay,” Jack replied, chirpy but a bit nervous. Jack was not a good actor, and he knew it. He definitely didn’t think that he could project Bertrum Piedmont-levels of bravado and confidence. His strategy had basically been been to avoid everyone except for Lacie, whose identity he hadn’t figured out yet, but that’s what the meeting was for. Well, now it seemed like he’d have to act the best he could for whoever was inhabiting his body.

The two arrived at Bendyland, where three Bendyland employees were slacking off, playing the target shooting game. Lacie was one of them. Jack cupped his hands together. “Hey!” he snapped, trying to get their attention. Was that a Bertrum-like way to get attention? He didn’t know, and with whoever was in his body breathing down his neck, he was getting really nervous. If they heard him, they didn’t listen, so he walked up to them. Even the way he walks is self-effacing, Bertrum thought to himself, almost offended at this... parody of himself. “Hey,” Jack said, quieter now that he was closer to them. The Bendyland workers finally looked up from their game to him.

“What?” One of them asked casually. All three of them were grinning, the two non-players wondering if Alzheimer’s had caught up to their boss and made him go soft.

“Are you, uh, fellows doing your quota of work?” There was no anger or accusation in his voice.

“Yeah.”

“Do you need me to do anything?” Jack truthfully had no idea what he was supposed to do. He’d designed some attractions and checked on the employees every day. That seemed like the right thing to do, or at least, the closest he could figure out.

“Nope, we’re good.” Bertrum could tell that they had barely done a thing. The crates of decor that they were supposed to put up this week were sitting next to the game, most not even opened.

“Okay, then. I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”

Jack turned around and stumbled over an ink pipe on the floor, which made the Bendyland workers laugh. Bertrum couldn’t take it any longer. “That’s it! You do not laugh at the great Bertrum Piedmont! Now get to work before he comes to his senses!”

The workers froze, then frantically went over to one of the crates and began decorating.

“Now you’re coming with me,” Bertrum said to Jack.

“Uh, sure. Hey, Lacie? I’ll come find you when I’m ready, okay?”

Lacie shrugged, not looking away from her work. “Sure.”

As soon as Jack and Bertrum were out of the studio, Bertrum spoke up. “Alright. No need for fancy introductions. I am the great Bertrum Piedmont, and I happen to have a very important meeting tonight. A meeting with the great Clifford Clines, CEO of Cedar Springs Entertainment. He’s considering me as the creator of his brand’s first theme park. Do you know how long it takes to create a theme park? If he wants an especially large park- and I assure you, he will- this could be the project that my son takes over for me once I retire or- or retire. This could be the first project in the next stage of the Colossal Wonders legacy! But that’s only if I can whip you into shape. Stand up straight. Puff your chest out. Stop holding yourself like you’re halfway apologizing for your existence. For the next four days, you’re pretending to be someone whose presence is a gift. Now, who are you?”

Jack had been obeying him, but he couldn’t answer that. “Sorry, I want to live. I can’t-“

“No. I mean, who are you?”

“Bertrum Piedmont.”

“Say it like you’ve been him all your life!”

“I am the great Bertrum Piedmont!”

“Good! Yes! Or at least, I’ll teach you to be him!”

That afternoon, as Bertrum taught Jack how to behave at his meeting, it finally came time for ink to be run through the ink pipes that “Thomas” had installed. Susie really wasn’t sure about this. She’d been too afraid to call and ask about cutting the pipes because of how obvious a question it probably was. Of course she shouldn’t cut the pipes- who would think of such a thing? And she had some serious doubts about the purity of “Sammy’s” intentions. But by deciding to ignore his advice, she was stuck with those crooked, zigzag pipes.

After she put the last pipe in, she looked back to see if “Henry” was still watching her. He was. Alright, no hesitation, then. She walked over, threw the switch all the way instead of inching up the pressure. Not fifteen seconds later, the resulting cacophony made her duck for cover on instinct. Pipes clattered to the ground, struck her, or shot at the walls. Ink was spraying everywhere. And “Henry” was still standing there with an expressionless look on his face. Not even Norman was this creepy! What would Thomas do in this situation? Don’t cry. Don’t freak out. Don’t cry. Do something you idiot! Turn off the ink pressure.That’s what Susie did, before making her way to the music department, where five of the players would be. As she passed it by, she also noticed that the ink machine was making some very concerning clunking and creaking noises.

Right in the middle of a recording, an ink-covered and very distressed-looking Thomas Connor burst into the the recording studio. “I need some backup,” he said, trying not to sound distressed “I can’t handle the ink machine anymore and I need someone who does to help me. “Jack” and “Alice” weren’t even there, so there wasn’t a great chance that anyone there would even be able to help. “Norman” quietly slipped out.

Lacie knew that she couldn’t help with this without narrowing down everyone’s quarry when it came to her, so she went off to find herself. There she was, decorating a Bendyland game booth. “Hey, Lacie. Come with me. Bring your tool kit.”

“Okay.”

As they made their way from the the Bendyland department, Lacie explained the plan. “Alright. Now, I have some hidden depths. My father was a mechanic. And right now, things need fixing. So I need you to pretend to be the one fixing them. I’ll quietly follow you at a distance and do the actual fixing, alright? First thing’s first, go to the recording studio and ask Thomas where the problem is.”

Shawn agreed to it, and Lacie fell behind him, walking softly as though she were stalking him.

When they got back to the music department, “Thomas” was on the phone with GENT. “What do you mean, ‘I’m the only one who knows how to maintenance the ink machine? That can’t be right.”

Shawn grabbed "Thomas” by the shoulder. “Hey. You show me where the problem is, I’ll fix it.”

As Lacie followed the two to the scene of the disaster, all she could think of was two things: first, “Lacie” must have known her pretty well, because he was doing one hell of an acting job. Secondly, his voice sounded off. Suppressing an accent, maybe? Both pointed to the same two identities: Shawn and Bertrum. She’d figured out who the other music department players were aside from Alice, but she could always use another layer of protection, and with how different Shawn and Bertrum were, chances were she was going to get one.

“Right here,” “Thomas” said once they arrived at the location. “And please, check on the ink machine, too. I don’t think I’m maintaining it properly. I can’t thank you enough.” Lacie had to hide around a corner from “Thomas” and “Lacie” until “Thomas” split from them.

As soon as Lacie saw the mess of the hallway, she knew that there wasn’t much to be done about it. For some pipes it would have just been a simple matter of adjusting, but others had been twisted from all that pressure, and almost half of them had fallen straight off the wall. It would take easily a day to fix, and the projectionist couldn’t just disappear for that long. “Yep. Let’s go to the ink machine,” Lacie declared.

After turning the ink machine off and opening it up, the problem became obvious: the gears were too clogged with thick ink to turn properly. As a result, the machine was overheating to the point where it almost burned to touch. “You’re gonna have to have to handle this one, Lacie. It would be awfully hard to explain why the projectionist has this kind of ink on their hands.”

“Lacie” made a face, but nonetheless got in there with his hands and started shoveling out the hot sludge.

“Oh yeah. One more thing,” Lacie said before stomping down on Shawn’s foot.

“Eejit! Mo fecken chos!” Shawn screamed before realizing that he’d outed himself and turning redder than a beet.

“Hi, Shawn. You do one hell of an impression.”

“Ah, well, I’ve figured you out, too, Lacie. I know you better than you know yerself.” he plucked, annoyed but playful and in full Irish accent. He threw a glob of ink at her, which she dodged.

She already knew three identities. Was the extra safety worth selling out Shawn?

Lacie laughed a little. “Well, I have to get back to my projector booth before someone gets suspicious. Meet me after work, alright?” —- “Another brandy, barkeep, if you please,” Bertrum called out across the way. If he was going to have a younger liver for the next little bit, he might as well use it. It was evening, and Bertrum had coached his little body snatcher on everything there was to know about being the Great Bertrum Piedmont. Through all that teaching, though, he’d seen enough of the man to figure out who he was.

It had been a hard week for Bertrum, not only because of the professional stress and mortal danger, but because everyone seemed to expect him to just go along with whatever they said. Like he had no desires of his own. It’s how non-players treated him. It’s how players tested and needled at him. And Bertrum had snapped at a few of them- hopefully not hard enough to give him away. But that kind of behaviour that they expected of him seemed to be exactly what came naturally to his student. It was Jack Fain. Self-effacing, kind-to-a-fault, laid-back, embarrassed-to-be-alive Jack Fain. And those upper crust business men were going to eat him alive.

“Barkeep! Another, please!” At least this body was good at handling liquor. He must have drank six of these things and he didn’t feel inebriated in the slightest. When would Jack get here?

Finally, Bertrum heard Jack’s voice, using a now much less fake-sounding accent. “Hey. Want some news?” Strange- he sounded fairly perky. Bertrum turned to him. He looked pretty pleased with himself and was holding an envelope. Bertrum allowed himself some hope.

“Go ahead.”

“You got it. He wants the biggest theme park the world’s ever seen!”

Bertrum nearly fell out of his seat. He snatched the letter out of Jack’s hands. It contained the date and location of what would be their first meeting to discuss the park. “I- well- thank you!” Bertrum stuttered. Maybe he wasn’t handling the liquor as well as he thought. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure,” Jack replied, sitting down.

“How have you been handling the game?” Bertrum asked friendily.

Jack grimaced. “Yours is the only identity I’ve figured out.. But I don’t think anyone’s guessed me, so I think I’m alright. I just need to keep a low profile, and that shouldn’t be hard, aside from Henry’s party.”

Bertrum knew that if Jack played like that, he was surely dead. He put on his gentlest voice and said, “Actually, I think I’ve figured out who you are. Are you Jack Fain?”

There was fear in Jack’s eyes for a moment, but he quickly forced it out of them. “No. You’re wrong.” He got up and left, stopping a moment to look back. If he hadn’t said that, he could have asked how his family was. But it was too late for that. In that moment it sunk in that he needed to find another identity if he ever wanted to see them again.

Bertrum got up to chase after Jack, and tell him one of the identities he’d figured out so that he would be safe. After Jack had nailed the meeting, he deserved that much. But Bertrum fell over almost immediately- his legs were just too unsteady from booze.

[sidereal-fantasies]

Mayhem Nights [Ateez Witch Hunter AU]

five

Character(s): Reader, OC, Ateez

Category: Supernatural AU

Genre: Fantasy, Horror

Warning(s): Cursing! That’s all.

In today’s world where magical creatures weave their visage into the perfect web of lies and blended into the crowds of everyday humans, the witch hunters became the paragon of justice, balance, and courage.

When [Name] was first exposed to the magical realm that coexisted in this world, witch hunters fascinated her. They were the silent heroes that laid waiting in the shadows, ready to bring justice to those that have fallen victim to curses and hexes born from the evil intentions of left-handed witches. She admired them, idolized them, wanted to be one of them. Her childhood revolved around the idea of becoming one. Her parents, although hesitant, never crushed her dreams. They simply saw a child fantasizing about changing the world for the better; a naive and foolish thing everyone soon realizes. Nevertheless, this dream of becoming the knight in shining armor for others entertained [Name] for years. That is, until reality came forward to give her a wake-up call.

“You guys have to be new to this,” Yeri remarked.

Gentle lavender aromas wafted through the air as Seonghwa folded one more cloth before he placed it on top of [Name]’s wound. “The group is, but depending on the member you ask, experience varies from each person,” he answered as he quickly wrapped the cloth in place.

“What about you then?” Yeri asked. Unfortunately, she was only met with silence as the blonde finished tending to [Name]’s wound.

Seonghwa observed [Name] for a moment, watching closely as she lulled from one side to another before she finally rested her head on Yeri’s shoulder. A frown remained evident on his face as he began to clean up the supplies. He furrowed his eyebrows once more, doubtful that this treatment would completely work out the poisonous wolfsbane running through her system. However, all he could do was hope in this moment that it would at least give her some strength back.

“How come you weren’t affected by the wolfsbane?” Seonghwa inquired, completely avoiding Yeri’s question.

“[Name]’s always been sensitive to scents, I think. Maybe it just got too much for her with all this stress she’s been feeling and it took her out just like that,” Yeri responded as she looked down at the flushed [hair color] haired girl.

Seonghwa simply nodded his head as he placed the supplies back in their original place and washed his hands. “I’m gonna leave you two alone for a moment and update everyone else. Yunho or Mingi will come back in here and help you get [Name] to a proper bed for the time being. Please tell any of us if anything unusual happens.”

“Everything about is already unusual.” A soft chuckle escaped Seonghwa.

With that, Seonghwa walked out of the room and closed the door with a gentle click before he made his way down the long hallway. The bleached blonde male felt unsettled in his own skin; goosebumps prickled his arms, a frown continued to grace his features, and a thin coat of sweat covered the back of his neck. That answer, though typical from most humans not accustomed to magic, shook him slightly as he tried piecing together his puzzling thoughts. Despite that, he just knew Yeri had been exposed to black magic before. Not as much as [Name] or the other members may have witnessed, but his gut led him to believe she knew more than she was letting on.

“Hyung, is the girl alright?” A deep voice caught his attention. Startled slightly, Seonghwa looked up and offered a reassuring smile to the male opposite of him. “As good as she can get for the time being, Yeosang.”

The brunette let a sigh of relief escape his lips before his icy blue eyes trained on the fellow member. He then motioned for Seonghwa to follow him down the rest of the way, both males remaining silent as they turned corner after corner.

“It’s best to let them be. They both been through a lot,” Seonghwa commented.

Yeosang hummed quietly. “True. For now, Captain wants an explanation,” he replied. The taller male could only pinch the bridge of his nose in response.

We weren’t even there, he thought.

“Right, but he wants to know a few other things,” Yeosang stated out loud.

“You know, I really hate it when you read my thoughts.” A chuckle fell from the reserved wizard.

“I didn’t even have to. You’re a little too obvious with emotions sometimes, Hyung.”

It’s still scary as to how much he can pick up on a person just from a single look, Seonghwa thought. He couldn’t fight Yeosang on that one, however. Although he naturally has a softer composure compared to most of his fellow members and looked after everyone like an older sibling, anyone could read his annoyance when it’s caused by their leader majority of the time.

~•*•~

“So no book?” Hongjoong asked.

“No book according to Yunho and Mingi. Her friend might be in good condition to get it, but for now,” Seonghwa paused for a moment to think. “Let her stay with [Name]. I have a feeling that once she regains some strength, she’d rather see a familiar face than any of us.”

“She can’t be that scared of us. We’re just witch hunters,” a silver-haired male commented. “New friends are always a plus.”

“And she just got attacked by a left-handed witch, dragged back to an unknown place, and basically left to see if she’ll heal okay. We can’t all just spring up on her and expect her to accept all of us at once,” Mingi retorted as he entered the room.

“True, but still, one of us is going to have to explain everything,” another male who was leaning back in his chair chimed in.

A long silence followed afterwards as the group of eight exchanged wary glances with each other. Initially, all eyes fell on Yunho and Seonghwa since they were the most understanding and approachable ones out of the group. Not only that, all of them knew that the girls had bumped into Yunho more times than the rest of them already. However, as seconds passed, all their gazes, one by one, traced the imaginary path from Hongjoong’s to the supposed chosen one.

“Let Yeosang handle this one,” Hongjoong declared, “It might be a little risky considering they don’t know you’re a clairvoyant, but maybe you can get some more insight on them.”

Yeosang gave a silent nod before all attention was turned back on Hongjoong. A sly, fox-like grin was plastered on his lips.

“Hyung, what’s with the grin?” Another member with black hair and red highlights peeking through questioned.

“Just a hunch,” Hongjoong replied. He then pushed himself out of the chair and made his way over towards the door. “Don’t worry about the book for now. Let’s head out and properly meet our new friends.”

~•*•~

[Name]’s eyes fluttered open. Her vision remained blurred at the edges for a few moments as she tried adjusting to the dim artificial lighting that filled the room. As the sleepiness fled from her body, her gaze traveled around her hazy settings as she slowly pushed herself to sit up in the plush bed, bemusement still running through her mind. Her aching body creaked and groaned as a sudden blood rush pulsed through her head, alerting her of a headache and eliciting another grumble in response to the newfound pain.

“[Name], holy shit you’re alive!” Yeri exclaimed as she bolted to her bedside.

The black haired girl placed a palm on her forehead before she passed a glass of water over to the now slightly perplexed female. [Name] raised the glass and gulped down the contents within seconds, as if she has been deprived of proper hydration for days. Setting the glass down on the bedside table, she took one last survey of her surroundings. It was a rather cozy bedroom, surprisingly. Extra blankets were piled in one corner, a rug lined the tiled floor, and although covered, windows peaked through the sheer red curtains.

“Y-Yeri, where are we?” [Name] inquired.

“I think it’s their base. I’ve only seen this bedroom and the kitchen, but like—“

“Base?” [Name] interrupted.

Wide brown eyes filled with panic. Stutters fell from Yeri’s lips as she tried to piece together a proper explanation. Moments afterwards, she fell silent, unable to truly comprehend the situation they were wrapped up in. [Name] gripped the sheets tightly. The book. Where is it? That damn book that got us into this mess, she thought. Her entire body went numb as the events replayed right before her.

“So, this must be the witch hunters’ base,” she commented grimly.

Suddenly, the door creaked open and in came one of the said witch hunters. Her breath was immediately in her throat, yet she couldn’t figure out if it was out of fear or the initial impression of him. His movements were silent, but graceful. He had a certain air around him that did not demand any attention at all, as if he was trying to pass by like a ghost. At the same time, once one took notice of him, it was difficult to take one’s attention away. His bright, blue eyes, alert and observant, were always taking in every minute detail. A unique birthmark rested near one eye. His gaze was unnerving.

“It’s good to see you awake and better than before. I’m Yeosang, by the way,” Yeosang introduces himself.

“I’m [Name] and this is my friend, Yeri,” [Name] answered cautiously. “Is this part of your base or something?”

“If you call KQ Lounge some secret base, then sure,” Yeosang remarked.

[Name] blinked as she looked around once again. Does that mean this building is just a coverup for their witch hunting business? Slowly, she slipped out of the covers and slung her legs over the edge of the bed before she let her feet hit the tiled floor with a small thud. Yeri moved to help the other girl, but was simply dismissed by a hand as [Name] pushed herself to stand up. She shuffled over to one of the many windows in the room and pulled the sheer curtains away.

“You weren’t kidding,” [Name] murmured.

Out the window, the busy streets of Seoul lined the building with the familiar alleyway she stumbled into that one night just below her. Citizens scurried by and stray cats ducked into the shadows of the alley. Judging by the distance to the ground below, she must have been on one of the upper floors currently. He hasn’t said much since he’s been in here, she thought as she glanced over her shoulder at Yeosang to see that his gaze was still trained in on her.

“How long was I out?” [Name] questioned.

“Few hours, tops. Which is surprising considering the fact that it was wolfsbane that got into your wound,” Yeosang answered. The clairvoyant watched [Name]’s hand shoot up to cover the now bandaged arm instinctively. He cocked an eyebrow for a split second before he waved a hand for the two to come closer.

“I can tell you’re both wary. It’s only natural, but don’t worry. Everyone here has their best intentions in mind,” he reassured the two. “No one is going to hurt you.” [Name] and Yeri were reluctant to move for a moment before they both approached Yeosang. Once they were just a few steps away, [Name] truly got a good look at the young man in front of her. Although his initial demeanor seemed cold and placid, he held a similar, but softer aura compared to Yunho’s bright and loud one. Despite how comforting it was, she couldn’t help, but to feel like she was staring at someone trapped within a near-indestructible case. Yeosang was quiet to a point in which his responses were straightforward and slightly blunt, she noted. He was also very observant of little habits, moods, and of the current atmosphere considering the fact that he could easily see their initial cautious nature to approach. Achill ran down her spine when their gazes met once more.

“Hongjoong sent me to bring you to the lounging area. If you’re okay, that is. You still seem tired,” Yeosang pointed out.

Yeri locked arms with [Name] and shook her head as she offered a gentle smile and held her hand out for a quick shake.

“We should meet the rest of you, then. [Name] probably made everyone worried,” Yeri joked.

Yeosang made a quick glance down at Yeri’s outstretched hand before he cleared his throat and motioned for the girls to continue walking.

Strange, [Name] thought. The peculiar sight made [Name] furrow her eyebrows ever so slightly. While Yeri may have taken as he didn’t see the gesture, [Name] clearly saw the way Yeosang lost his composure for a split second. She didn’t dare to call him, however, as she was afraid that she might be overstepping a few boundaries.

Little did she know that lines may have been crossed already.

[ellebabywrites]

All The Kings Horses - Judas Kiss

Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 1978

Author Note: I finally finished this after announcing I was going on a writing break.... well. Please, please, PLEASE give me some feedback because I need to know if I should keep with the break or not - I basically just need some reassurance because things are so quiet lately... Enjoy lovelies, hopefully this shines a new light on King’s actions throughout JK !!

Things in N.City had been quiet for some time now - at least for you that is. God knows the rest of the city had fallen into shambles, but for the most part people knew that King was the boss. The main guy. The big kahuna. Sure everyone else was at each other’s throats all the time, but nobody dared mess with King. He was a living legend in the city and people knew better than to try and challenge that. So, you’d all allowed yourselves to get comfortable in the silence.

King had grown comfortable with his makeshift family; you were all his children and he cared for each of you more deeply than anyone would ever know - or that he’d ever let them know. He knew you all like the back of his hand, which is why he noticed almost immediately when something was off between Rikky and Johnny.

Subtle glares and snide digs were nothing out of the ordinary, teasing relationships and juvenile fights were typical for your close knit group; but this was different. There was an underlying resentment between the two as they shot each other accusatory looks over the course of the evening and King didn’t like it.

“Everything okay with you and Rikky?” King asks nonchalantly when Johnny comes over to join him in the Kitchen, “Things seem frosty.”

King watches carefully as Johnny pours himself a glass of water and avoids eye contact - something was definitely up.

“I’m not sure…” Johnny confesses, keeping his eyes trained on Rikky in the other room, watching as he play wrestled with you for the Tv controller, “I have a hunch, I’m keeping an eye on it.” With that, Johnny finally turns to King with a strained smile and heads back over to the rest of you.

It was unusual to say the least; but if Johnny was concerned about something then King would pay attention. He had brought Rikky into the crew, given him a home, welcomed him into the family - he trusts him. But he also trusts Johnny. He trusts his judgement and if he thinks something is wrong, then King was going to pay attention.

---

It took all the strength King could muster to get him to take those steps towards you. The pouring rain clouded his vision, leaving your sunken figure a blurry image in front of him. He could hear in your voice when you had called just how broken you were, it scared him. Scared him so much that he almost didn’t want to come, he didn’t want to see what had ripped into your heart and left you kneeling in the pouring rain. Right now, seeing you curled over Johnny’s limp body, rocking back and forth and whispering pleas for him to wake up - King wishes he’d stayed back.

Does that make him a coward? To want to run and hide and leave the rest of you to deal with the fall out of whatever horrors had struck? Maybe… maybe that’s all he was deep down, just a coward with a tough reputation and a stare that could break a man. Even with all the evil, harsh, bloody things King had done in his long and miserable life; never had he felt the kind of pain he feels now, looking down at the pair of you. Johnny and you are his children; the first people he decided to let into his family; the first people he let into his heart. He had saved you, raised you and in the end, broken you - he was the one that brought you both into this life after all.

The sound of your sobs echo in the empty streets. The grey sky and heavy downpour of rain makes the scene in front of him blur together like an abstract painting of tragedy. Each passing second King can feel pieces of his heart being chipped away. One piece washes away with the blood from Johnny’s lifeless body; another with the flow of tears down your cheeks; each scream as Ty pulls you away claims another shard.

It doesn’t make sense. None of the other gangs had any reason to attack like this; no one had any problems, and if they did, they would have spoken to King first. How did this happen? Why did it happen?

Johnny.

He mentioned something was wrong. He had suspicions. Looking back, King watches as Rikky stands motionless a few feet from the scene. His expression void, not a single tear stains his face, he barely makes an effort to move at all.

King feels something in his gut drop at the thought. Could Rikky have really done this? Hurt Johnny… Kill Johnny. Why? What had made Johnny suspicious of him before and was it really worth killing over? King had brought Rikky onto the team and if he had anything to with this, he would never be able to forgive himself.

---

At this point King is almost certain of Rikky’s involvement in Johnny’s death. After doing some digging and getting intel from reliable sources; King was finally starting to figure out just who Rikky really was. But now there was Mark.

An innocent looking, wide-eyed kid without an evil bone in his body. He put his life on the line to protect Y/N on a whim, when anyone else in N.City would have looked the other way. Another innocent soul set up for Rikky to slaughter. King would never want to make him go back alone, Bangtan would have his throat in seconds, but he also didn’t want there to be someone else that Rikky could hurt. He can’t ignore the sacrifice Mark made for Y/N; his whole life was now at risk. We protect our own. Mark was one of you now and King couldn’t; wouldn’t; leave him. It was just another person he needed to protect, even if it ended up being the last thing he did.

---

The loud ringing of alarms blaring through the firehouse is what startles King awake. The sound of you all shouting and fussing in the main room is what sets the alarm bells off in King’s mind. The firehouse is supposed to be impenetrable. The fact that Rikky had somehow managed to trick the systems and remain undetected is a frightening enough thought for King to shut down; go into ‘boss mode’; devoid himself of all emotions to keep you all safe. He needed to act fast.

There still wasn’t any clear reason as to why Rikky would turn against you all like this, why he would kill Johnny… All King knows for sure is that Rikky is dangerous, and with how quickly he seems to be attacking, there aren’t any signs he’ll stop.

---

How did he get here yet again? Standing in front of you, watching the tears run down your face as you beg him for a reaction. He can’t. God how he wishes he could. With Ty gone, the only way King was going to beat Rikky was if he was at the top of his game - meaning he was as hard and ruthless as ever.

He could try and get you to leave, but he knows you wouldn’t leave without Ty. Inside he’s panicking, you’re not safe, Mark isn’t safe, Ty isn’t safe - and this whole time Rikky is right there beside you, pointing the finger at him.

“Get out of the city Y/N. Take Mark and run.” He takes a step closer, reaching out his hands for you, but you step back, “Run as fast and as far as you can. Please love…”

“Don’t call me that,”

“..Y/N, I’m begging you. Leave N.City.”

“Ty is missing. God knows where Rikky went. Unlike you, I won’t abandon my family.”

—-

Out of all the people in the world, Walt is the only one King would let his guard down with. He could sit and tell him everything and know there would be no judgements…. Well, none that King would take to heart.

Walt’s is as good as empty; there was the odd customer coming in to pick up a donut to go or two; but other than that it was just Walt and King. Sitting opposite each other in the usual corner booth, mulling over the events of the last few weeks.

“I found Rikky funnelling money out of one of my accounts,” King explains, feeling a rush of catharsis finally being able to talk about it all with someone, “He’s been messing with the clubs, handing over assets and suppliers to Bangtan under the table… He was right there in front of me this entire time.”

Walt watches his friend with heavy sorrow as King throws his head in his hands, trying to discreetly wipe away the tears that slipped through his lashes.

“I’m worried about the kids. I don’t even know if Ty’s alive. I tried to get Y/N to leave the city but of course she won’t go without the others, without Ty. What if he hurts her Walt? What if he does to her what he did to Johnny? What if I really can’t protect them from this? What if…”

“Stop that right now!” Walt interrupts, “You need to fight King! You’ve never backed down to anyone who was threatening your family before, and you’re sure as hell not going to start now with some arrogant, cocoa-drinking jackass!” With that, King finally finds it in himself to look up at his old friend. “Take care of your family King! Y/N and Mark are strong kids and Ty, Ty’s a fighter...literally. They need you to be there to lead them.” Reaching out, Walt places a reassuring pat on King’s shoulder, looking him in the eye, “So go and lead them.”

---

The next day King got a tip from one of his allies about Ty, taking off immediately to try and find him before Rikky and Bangtan could do anything more. Sneaking in through a back door, King makes his way through the warehouse, careful not to make any noise that could alert someone to his presence.

King had no idea that when he pushed his way through the last door, he’d be faced with Ty’s hanging and broken body. The sight enough to make him gag on the spot. Ty, his friend; his family; hanging lifeless bloody broken like the puppet Rikky had turned him into.

Somewhere in the distance the sound of gunfire echoes, drilling into King’s brain and warning him that there’s not much time left. He can’t get Ty down on his own, not without ripping his flesh open and King could never get himself to do that.

Behind him, King hears the door behind him slide open and instinctively moves for his gun. Turning with the barrel raised, aimed at whomever had walked in behind him. He didn’t expect to see you and Mark, standing frozen at the sight of him next to Ty’s hanging body.

“Oh my god…” Mark whispers behind you as he continues to looks at the mangled body of Ty next to King. Instinctively, he reaches out for your arm and pulls you behind him protectively.

“What have you done!” you scream, unable to keep it in.

There’s no time for him to explain. No explanation that could ease the hurt looks of betrayal on your faces. Tears fill his eyes and his hands begin to shake as King tries to find the words, but he never gets them passed his lips.

He sees Rikky walking up slowly behind the two of you; he watches the smirk spread across his face as the scene unfolds in front of him. The subtle wink he sends his former saviour across the final stage of his big production. Rikky has won. King couldn’t save you. It’s over.

[theheadlessgroom]

Tagged by: @arachnofille Tagging: All who’d like to do it!

—    BASICS.

▸     IS  YOUR  MUSE  TALL  /  SHORT  /  AVERAGE? Randall’s pretty short; he’s 4′12 even when he’s not hunched over, as he usually is when he’s performing his little trick for the mortals.

▸      ARE  THEY  OKAY  WITH  THEIR  HEIGHT ? For the most part, Randall’s alright with it-taking potshots at his height is not advised, however, he will not appreciate that. This can include teasing him about trying to reach something on a top shelf, or being shorter than his fellow spooks, up to and including his wife.

▸      WHAT’S    THEIR    HAIR    LIKE? When he was alive, it was jet-black, curly, and near-impossible to tame on any given day-both of his parents had curly hair, so Randall got the double-whammy on that front. These days, his hair’s a bit thinner and a little more stringy and frizzy than curly, and has grayed considerably.

▸     DO    THEY    SPEND    A    LOT    OF    TIME    ON    GROOMING?

Not a whole lot-Randall’s not too concerned with grooming, and it might be something of a holdover from his mortal days, when he had to hop out of bed and get dressed and get out the door in a timely fashion, and even though he has more time to be leisurely these days, he still takes very little time-he gets dressed, brushes his hair and teeth (gotta make sure that gold tooth shines when he grimly grins!), and calls it good.

▸      DOES  YOUR  MUSE  CARE  ABOUT  THEIR  APPEARANCE  /  WHAT  OTHERS  THINK ?

Randall’s self-esteem when it comes to his appearance is...lacking, to say the least: He never thought of him as a looker in life, and less so in death, and knows there’s not a lot he can do about fixing his ghoulish appearance (while it scores him screams, he still sort of wishes he was a little less spooky-looking), so he just lets it go, and tries to act like it doesn’t bother him. 

—    PREFERENCES.

▸     INDOORS  OR  OUTDOORS? Most of the time, Randall prefers to be indoors, usually tucked away in his room in the attic or hanging around the ballroom, but if the weather’s nice enough, he’ll venture out to the graveyard, and quietly join in the ghostly merriment down there. He’s not one to balk at the heat (he grew up in New Orleans, after all), so even on a hot summer day, one may find him sitting beneath an old oak tree, making idle chit-chat with his fellow spirits.

▸     RAIN  OR  SUNSHINE? For all his comfort in the sun, Randall does much prefer the rain: A good, powerful downpour, with thunder and lightning aplenty, the sort of weather that rattles windowpanes and sends damp chills through the walls and rumbles the roof above him. It’s his theory that being a ghost makes you fond of the spookier things in the world, and that includes storms.

▸     FOREST  OR  BEACH?   Defidently the beach; it comes from being both from New Orleans and ‘living’ (ha!) in California, Randall is much more partial to the sand and surf-he enjoys swimming and fishing more than anything else, however.

▸     PRECIOUS  METALS  OR  GEMS? Randall doesn’t seriously care for either, but if you were to twist his arm, he might be more inclined to lean more towards precious metals-his eye’s never really been caught by gemstones, perhaps as evidenced by the very simple wedding bands he worked himself to the bone to buy for himself and his bride. To him, simple is just sometimes better.

▸     FLOWERS  OR  PERFUMES? Tough choice, but Randall might lean towards perfumes-he’s quite fond of flowers (mostly roses, such as the ones his mother planted at Gracey Manor), but he could never grow tired of Emily’s elegant perfume dizzying him with love. There’s still a bottle of it sitting on the couple’s boudoir in their room, and every now and again, Randall will spritz a little into the air, just to get that smell of her again.

▸     PERSONALITY  OR  APPEARANCE? Personality all the way-while it was Emily’s almost-angelic appearance that caught his eye initially, it was her kind and gentle spirit that really made Randall fall head over heels for her. She’s compassionate and open-minded, big-hearted and sweet, and in just being herself, he was infatuated. 

▸     BEING  ALONE  OR  BEING  IN  A  CROWD? Somewhere in between, admittedly: While being completely and utterly alone terrifies Randall to no end (shades of his banishment), he’s also not wholly comfortable being in a crowd either, and prefers something in between, preferring to be with a few close friends in a smaller room.

▸     ORDER  OR  ANARCHY? One might assume anarchy, solely because of the state of disarray that is his room (to say nothing of the attic), but Randall does prefer some semblance of order. Gracey Manor is a riot of colorful characters and weird happenings, so ‘order’ isn’t exactly in their vocabulary, but Randall tries to find a little orderliness where he can, even in his mess of a room. To him, it’s ‘controlled chaos’, and while it may look messy to others, he can find anything in it.

▸     PAINFUL  TRUTHS  OR  WHITE  LIES?   Painful truths-Randall’s really not one to lie, and though he knows the truth hurts, he’d prefer to get it over with than cover it up with lies. He’s only really lied when it’s been absolutely necessary (such as when he and Emily were courting, and had to keep their relationship under wraps).

▸     SCIENCE  OR  MAGIC? Randall tends to lean more towards the latter: He didn’t exactly learn a whole lot of science growing up (it wasn’t something his mother, who acted as his teacher, was well-versed in, outside of the sciences of good gardening and cooking), and the subject is still very foreign to him (though he doesn’t mind listening to someone explain something to him). Magic, on the other hand, he is somewhat more inclined to believe in, partly because of his upbringing reading Irish fables, full of tales of the fair folk and fish people, and partly because he is a ghost, and the magic of the mansion’s Madame Leota is all around him.

▸     PEACE  OR  CONFLICT?   Peace, preferably. Randall likes the quiet (after)life, he tries to avoid conflict where he can, and enjoys relaxed days where he isn’t confronted by people who generally loathe his very presence. He faced far too much conflict growing up and working in New Orleans, dealing with people who were insulted to see a half-Irishman working behind the counter, and he still has to put up with a degree of conflict thanks to Constance. If he could have it his way, he and Emily would be enjoying a quiet afterlife in their attic home together, where they can be together in peace.

▸     NIGHT  OR  DAY? Night, easily: Randall is a night owl, for better or worse, and he enjoys the peace and quiet of the darkness, when the moon is full and the stars are out. It brings a respite from a long day, and he likes to take that time to wind down after a long day of terrifying mortals. Nighttime is also the time that Gracey Manor really comes alive (pun intended), and if he feels up to it, Randall will spend time in the ballroom or the graveyard, surrounded by his fellow spirits.

▸     DUSK  OR  DAWN?

Although he is a night owl, and enjoys the nighttime, as mentioned above, there is something Randall really does like those calm, slow mornings, when he and Emily would lie in each other’s arms, sunlight trickling in between the curtains, and they’d just bask in one another’s presence. He misses those mornings, the gentle rhythm of Emily’s heartbeat waking him up, and he would see her lying there beside him, golden eyes aglow as she smiled and wished him a good morning before leaning in to kiss him.

▸     WARMTH    OR    COLD ?

Warmth: Being a ghost means you’re cold nearly all the time, and while Gracey Manor may contain ‘hot-and-cold-running chills’, Randall prefers the heat. It’s the one thing he doesn’t particularly like about being what he is, and whenever he has the chance to get warm, he’ll happily take it. Plus, it takes him back to those hot, sunny days of living in Louisiana, which fills him with a little bit of nostalgia.

▸     MANY  ACQUAINTANCES  OR  A  FEW  CLOSE  FRIENDS? A few close friends. Randall is acquaintances with many of the spirits in the Mansion, but he really does prefer to be close with only a small handful of them, those he’s truly comfortable around. It’s not that he doesn’t like his housemates, far from it (save for a certain black widow), he just likes keeping the few truly, truly good friends close.

▸     READING    OR    PLAYING    A    GAME? Reading, admittedly: While he may not be the strongest of readers, he really enjoys a good story, and will take the time to read a good old-fashioned ghost story when he has the downtime. He likes a good game too, but he just does prefer reading to playing.

—    QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    OF    YOUR    MUSE’S    BAD    HABITS?

Randall has a relatively hair-trigger temper, and although he does his best to keep it in check, sometimes he simply can’t and will immediately lash out verbally and occasionally physically (mainly by throwing a punch or swinging his cane). He also has the bad habit of closing himself off, bottling his feelings up, and can be very reluctant to open up to people, even when he’s at his wits end.

▸      HAS  YOUR  MUSE  LOST  ANYONE  CLOSE  TO  THEM?  HOW  HAS  IT  EFFECTED   THEM?

Randall has experienced quite a few losses in his life, starting with his father, who died in a boating accident when he was three. His father, though loving and well-meaning, struggled with alcoholism, and it was a contributing factor to his death, leading to Randall’s refusal to drink. Some thirty years later, he lost his mother to scarlet fever, and considering she was his sole parental figure for all these years, it was a huge blow to him. Lastly, in a sense, he’s lost his wife-when he returned to the Mansion after years of absence, he found not Emily in the attic, but Constance, and that has been an extremely hard adjustment for him.

▸      WHAT  ARE  SOME  FOND  MEMORIES  YOUR  MUSE  HAS?

Plenty: Playing with Dorian in their youth, spending time with his mother when life was a little easier, his courtship and marriage to Emily, spending time with his friends at the Mansion, these are all happy memories he looks back on with great fondness.

▸     IS  IT  EASY  FOR  YOUR  MUSE  TO  KILL?

Not at all: Despite his bad temper and willingness to throw a punch, Randall refuses to kill. He does not want to be like the man who murdered him, Nicholas Pennyworth, nor like the Black Widow Bride, Constance Hatchaway, two people he truly despises in the world. If he can help it, he refuses to be a murderer. Only if he really, truly had to (such as while protecting a loved one) would he do it, and even then, it would be hard for him.

▸      WHAT’S  IT  LIKE  WHEN  YOUR  MUSE  BREAKS  DOWN?

When Randall breaks down, he breaks down hard: He sobs, he can barely speak, he shivers and shudders and feels like he wants to scream his head off, but he can’t bring himself to. This usually happens when he can no longer bottle his feelings up, and everything comes pouring out of him, and usually when he’s alone. He usually tries to hide these outbursts from others, not wanting them to see him in such a state.

▸      IS  YOUR  MUSE  CAPABLE  OF  TRUSTING  SOMEONE  WITH  THEIR  LIFE?

These days, Randall doesn’t exactly have a life to entrust in someone, and when he did, he didn’t really have anyone to entrust it to. If he did, however, he’d likely choose Dorian Gracey and Beauregard Ghast-he’s very close to the both of them, and he trusts that they’d look out for him.

▸      WHAT’S  YOUR  MUSE  LIKE  WHEN  THEY’RE  IN  LOVE?

Randall isn’t exactly...subtle when he’s in love: For a man who is very shy about PDA, he is really quite obvious in his attraction to his wife; tripping over his words, insisting upon doing things for her/bringing things to her, and just generally gazing at her with a lovesick glow to his eyes. It’s been centuries since they met and married, and she still makes him feel like a schoolboy experiencing his first crush.