#( i’ve been thinking about this for a while. like would gin join the egos trying to take over the channel? )

[jumpinagain-a]

i feel like gin would have beef with dark

#✨ᴄᴏᴍᴍꜱ! . . . ooc #( this isn’t ALWAYS gonna be the case. obviously there’s some context required. but ) #( gin doesn’t like the idea of anyone touching the crystal that his reality was created to house bc he believes if it’s removed the universe #will die and all his friends will die with it ) #( so that’s one strike against him ) #( gin also really values the idea of choice and freedom considering where he came from so dark’s whole thing is gonna rub him wrong even if #they have similar views on the whole idea of being pushed aside etc ) #( also they’re just so similar they’d have beef just cause of that hahaha. ) #( gin would be like: i’m a self made man! you had to have VIEWERS invent you so there ) #( i’ve been thinking about this for a while. like would gin join the egos trying to take over the channel? ) #( i kinda think no! or like. reluctantly? he doesn’t like taking orders ) #( he also aligns himself pretty heavily with the viewer in a lot of situations bc he sees them as a victim too ) #( while dark tends to see the viewer as a participant or a bystander at best ) #✨ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ . . . time & light

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Burned Part 4

Summary: Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Chapter Summary: Alfie gets his own revenge on Louise’s husband and has to face the consequences. 

Warnings: Violence, mention of suicidal thoughts. 

         Even though Louise was prospering in Camden Town, Alfie didn’t let go of the grudge he had against her husband. He still noticed when the stitches on her stomach caused her pain. The slight wince crossing her features and the sharp gasp of discomfort. Tommy was hesitant to give the man’s name to Alfie. But he gave in as long as Alfie promised not to do anything more than just break his nose or few fingers. After all, Louise didn’t ask the Peaky Blinders to kill her husband.

           A few days passed and Alfie waited patiently, or as patiently as he could.

           One night, after everyone had gone home, sounds of a scuffle started to kick up in the warehouse. Puzzled, Alfie stood up and reached for his gun. He opened the door and saw a few of his boys. “What you doing?” He strode over to them, pocketing his gun. “Fucking go home.” His boots shuffled heavily across the concrete floor of the distillery. The metallic sounds of his cane echoing through the large warehouse.

           “We found the man you were looking for, Mr. Solomons, Kelly.” One of the boys shoved a lanky man to the floor. Offering him like a sacrificial lamb to their boss.

           “Oh…very nice. Go on, stand up.” Alfie poked at him with his cane as he tucked his gun away. He’d have to keep his finger off the trigger so he would limit himself to just physical force.

           The man staggered to his feet, clutching his stomach in pain having been jumped while staggering out of the bar. “What hell do you think you’re doin’?” He demanded.

           The man reeked of alcohol and he was disheveled. He was taller than Alfie but looked like a weed, easy to snuff out but annoying as hell. One of those gits that didn’t know when to quit. Alfie hated men like that.

           “Daniel Kelly, correct?”

           The man had dirty blonde hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead. He squinted and tried to size up the gangster boss through his gin-kaleidoscope vision. “Yeah, who’s asking?”

           “Well, that don’t matter, do it? All that matters is you’ve been a bit unkind to one of me employees, yeah?” Alfie cracked his knuckles and gripped his cane tightly.

           “Don’t know what you’re fuckin’ talking’ about.” The man was too intoxicated to see what sort of danger he was in. It was a shame what gin did to inflate the ego. Alfie had killed a lot of men who were so hopped up on liquid courage that they didn’t turn away when they had the chance. Pesky flies just begging to be smacked down by a biblical force.

           “Don’t even know who you are, mate. Where am I?”

           “Now why would a man harm his wife?” Alfie looked at his boys. “Any guesses, lads?”

           They didn’t respond, knowing their boss was just working up to the finale of caving the man’s face in. It wasn’t wise to interrupt his monologue lest they wanted to join the victim.

           “No? I’ve got one.” He raised his right hand as if he’d come to a divine epiphany. “Maybe, right, he’s a fucking lowlife and a drunk who don’t deserve someone like her. What you think, mate?”

           “Louise?” Daniel furrowed his eyebrows and his lanky body wavered, trying to stay upright. “You talkin’ ‘bout me wife?”

           Alfie didn’t answer. He was on a roll of working himself up, stroking his temper like a feral tiger ready to be unleashed. “Thing is, I like going through me day without having to come across fucking scum of the Earth, like you.” He jabbed his finger at his chest. “I also prefer women not get taking advantage of. You fucking think you're tough, yeah? Picking on a girl half your size. Think it makes you man?”

           “Bigger man than you,” Daniel smirked and looked down at the Jewish gangster. “Fucking little man.”

           Alfie just chuckled darkly. His associates knew that was the last straw and braced themselves for impact.

           “Right…” He passed his cane to his other hand and punched the man with a power that nearly caved his entire face in.

           Daniel’s nose made a sickening crack and blood poured down his face. He collapsed to his knees holding his face. “Jus’ tell me where she is, this ain’t any of your fuckin’ business!” His voice was distorted from his broken nose. Dark warmth pooling in his palms, streams slipping out between his fingers and down the front of his hand. Thick blood drops hit the concrete with a sticky sounding plunk.

           “It is me fucking business because look where you are. You’re standing in me bakery and ain’t no one gonna hear you scream, mate. You tried to kill my secretary. You dug your own fucking grave, mate, you put yourself here.” Alfie calmly wiped the blood from his knuckles. Blood spatter accenting his sleeves in a violent design. “Next time I hear about you doing something else like this, I’m gonna have me boys bring you back here, to me, and I’m going to fucking break your fucking legs!” His voice lost its frightening restraint. His shout rang loudly through the bakery, frightening a few birds from the rafters. “Yeah? Got it? Get up, and fuck off. Don’t fucking let me catch you doing this again.” Alfie turned and went to walk away. Despite the irritating nature of the man, he assumed his job was done and the message was clear. Although, Alfie had a sliver of hope that his threats didn’t get through Daniel’s thick skull. He decided he would want the pleasure of breaking a few more bones.

           He’d get the final laugh anyways.

           “Have fun with her then, she’s a fuckin’ whore, she’ll open her legs up for anyone, even a fuckin’ monster like you,” Daniel called out after him and spat at the ground. His saliva clotted with blood.

           Alfie stopped in his tracks. His hands curling into fists as his temper hit a peak. He threw his cane with a loud clang against the concrete floor. He walked over to him with the devil shaking beneath him. A storm raged in his ocean colored eyes. He reached into his waistcoat and retrieved a switchblade. It was typically for daily use but Alfie didn’t discriminate against weapons. If it could kill a man, he’d use it.

           Daniel gave him a look of confusion when he returned, trying to hold his shirt over his bleeding nose.

           “Right,” The gangster dragged Daniel to his feet and slammed him up against a nearby support beam. “Guess what I’m gonna do with this?” Alfie flipped open the blade and held it to the man’s stubble-covered jaw. “I’m gonna do the same thing you did to Miss Barnes. ‘Cept you’re not going to live. I’m sending you straight to fucking hell, you save a spot for me, yeah?” He hissed and thrust the knife into Daniel’s stomach. Dark maroon spread over the man’s white shirt, eliciting a scream from the man with every stab.

           After a frenzied vortex of time as Alfie blacked out from rage, the blade broke off in the man’s torso. So he let Daniel fall to the ground. He took out his gun, cocked it, and shot the man between the eyes.

           The gunshot echoed through the empty warehouse. Then a quiet settled as if nothing had happened. The night continued on.

           Alfie pocketed his gun and dropped the broken blade handle. Blood spattered over his shirt and soaked his arms. Painted with the aftermath of his crime. He sliced himself a bit in the fevered attack but didn’t feel the pain. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and took care of numbing his nerves.

           “Right, fucking get it outta here.” He huffed and shook blood off his hands, drops flying against nearby barrels. “Don’t care where you dump it. Then come back and clean up.” He waved the boys off and returned to his office to cleanse himself of sin.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           The next morning, Louise was unaware of her husband’s death. She walked into the bakery and found one of the men mopping up a dark, sticky puddle. Confused, she went to Alfie’s office.

           “Come in,” Alfie called after she knocked.

           Louise slipped off her coat and hung it up beside his overcoat on the hook. “What spilled outside?” She asked.

           “Just some resin, nothing too bad.” He lied through his teeth and continued reading. He should've known she'd pick up on the little things. Minor details like that didn't go over her head, she was as sharp as a whip.

           “Oh…” She sat down and took out her diary. His hands appeared in her line of vision and startled her. “What about your hands?”

           Fresh bandages covered the cuts on Alfie’s hands. “Splinters.” He muttered.

           The answer wasn’t convincing but she didn’t want to pry. That wasn’t her job. “Okay, well-” The telephone interrupted her.

           Alfie grumbled incoherently under his breath and picked up the receiver. “’Ello?”

           “What did I fucking tell you?”

           The voice on the other line was unmistakable. And it was far too early in the morning to listen to Tommy Shelby chewing him out. “Tommy, so good to hear from ya, mate, anything I can do for you?”

           “I said I’d give you his name if you didn’t kill him. Now you’re getting sloppy, couldn’t even get the body to the river to dump it?” The Blinder demanded. “Your boys dumped him on the side of the road!”

           “No fucking idea what you’re going on about.” Alfie’s eyes flicked up to see Louise patiently waiting across the desk. She had no idea.

           “Really? Right, well now you’ve got to tell his widow what happened. And you better tell her the truth, Alfie, of I will.”

           “You fucking what?” His fist fell onto the desk making his secretary flinch. He gritted his teeth and restrained himself as best he could for her sake. “You trying to back me into a corner, Tommy boy?”

           “She paid us for protection, she didn’t say anything about murdering him.” He retorted, not intimidated by his fierce opposition.

           “Had it fucking coming, didn’t he?” Alfie demanded. “Yeah? Don’t think he’s some saint, do ya?”

           “Right, I can understand, really, I can. But you need to tell her. You can’t cover this up or the police will start asking her questions. You want to save her the trouble of being a suspect?”

           The gangster looked at Louise. She appeared puzzled but not uncomfortable. “Fine.” He forcefully returned the receiver to the hook.

           “Everything alright?” She had a sinking feeling in her gut that the call from Mr. Shelby had something to do with her.

           Alfie sighed and interlocked his fingers on the desk. “Your husband was found dead.”

           Her eyes widened and a hand flew to her mouth. “What?” Her whisper muffled against her palm. “W-when? How?”

           “I uh…” He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. There wasn’t any telling what kind of reaction she would have. But he didn’t expect her to see how distraught she was. “He…”

           Louise hadn’t seen him so lost for words. The uneasiness on his face was unmistakable. Her jaw dropped in disbelief. The realization and horror spreading over her face. “You didn’t.”

           He swallowed and his eyes flicked down to betray his stoic expression. “Louise-”

           “Alfie, please tell me you didn’t. Tell me it was someone else.” She begged. The last thing she wanted was for her view of the man to be too utterly distorted to fix it.

           He shook his head. “I only meant to rough him up a bit.” He muttered. When had he ever felt shame for committing murder? Maybe his first time but it wore off soon after. He thought he was doing something chivalrous for her. But she was cut from a different cloth.

           “I told you.” Her voice shook violently as she glared at him, hints of fear behind her eyes. “I told you to leave it, didn’t I?”

           “Yes-”

           “I told you to leave in the past. You went behind my back. I didn’t ask you to do this, I didn’t want him dead!” She cried, her voice rising.

           Alfie dragged a hand over his face. “I was planning on just breaking his fucking nose-”

           “But I didn’t ask you to do even that! How did you even learn who he was?” She demanded.

           “If ya just let me finish me fucking sentence, I’ll fucking explain!” He couldn’t help but feed off her angry energy. His temper was always starving for a reason to go off. Even if it was Louise.

           “Don’t you dare,” She stood up and leaned over his desk, pressing her palms into the wood. “Don’t you fucking dare yell at me! Not after what you did!”

           He pressed back in his leather desk chair. It was the first time he’d ever heard her swear. It affected him more than he realized it possibly could. He clenched his jaw and composed himself. “I’m not trying to yell at you. But I have a reason for what I did.”

           “I can’t imagine you have a good enough reason when I explicitly told you not to get into it.” She spat. Her entire body appeared to tremble with anger.

           “He fucking wouldn’t shut his fucking mouth!” Alfie matched her volume and heaved himself up out of his chair.

           “And you’re so good at that?” She retorted. “You can’t do whatever you want, you don’t make up the rules. The world doesn’t bow down to Alfie Solomons!” She shouted.

           “He called you a whore!” He slammed his fist down on the desk making it quiver. “I ain’t fucking apologizing for giving him exactly what he deserved!”

           Louise flinched but didn’t back away from him. “I can’t believe you. I thought you were different, but people were right about. You’re heartless.” Tears formed in her eyes.

           Alfie tensed up and his heart froze over. He wanted to inform her that he cared so deeply about her and would do anything for her because he knew she deserved it.

           “I can’t even look at you.” She turned and roughly wiped her tears away with the sleeves of her blouse.

           “Louise!” He called after her but didn’t follow after she slammed the door to his office shut. “Fuck.” He mumbled and collapsed back into his chair.

           Cyril whimpered softly from his bed. The dog’s sagging cheeks resting on his front paws, his sad eyes looking up at his master.

           Alfie put his head in his hands, tugging at his hair out of frustration. “She’ll be the death of me.” He grumbled to his dog. “Mark me words.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Louise showed up at work the next day. Her face was plastered over, stuck in a stony expression. She wore a black dress as if to drive the blade further into Alfie’s chest. She didn’t ignore him; everything had to do with business though. Her voice was dull and emotionless. She wouldn’t show him any weakness.

           It crushed Alfie far more than he expected. Once the day finished, he was worn out even though he hadn’t gotten much work done. He was too preoccupied with Louise’s behavior. He wondered if he could ever make it up to her or ever have her the way he wished he could. Smiling and happy on his arm. Making him seem like a better man than he really was. Heartless. She couldn’t love a man who was heartless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           “Hello?”

           “Tommy, it’s Alfie.” The gangster boss muttered. It was about eight at night and had begun to rain. Alfie didn’t want to return home, he was afraid that without any distractions he would drive himself mad.

           “Something you need?” The Shelby asked curiously.

           “I want you to come pick up the money you gave me, the half of Louise’s inheritance.”

           Tommy went quiet. He knew it had to have something with Alfie murdering Daniel. “You should give it to her if you really don’t want it, eh?”

           “Doubt she’d take it from me. Fucking hates me guts now, don’t she?” Alfie’s hand tightened around the receiver of the phone.

           “Just add it to her paycheck then.” He suggested. “I don’t want to take it.” The man didn’t think it was right to take more money from the woman.

           Alfie grunted. “I fucked up, Tom.” His voice lost some of its usual sternness.

           “I know.” He wasn’t going to sugar coat it. “Can’t take it back now though.”

           “She’ll hate me. Thinks I’m this soulless thing. Fucking evil of the Earth, exactly what everyone else thinks.” It was a rare thing for Alfie to let his outer shell crack. But he knew Tommy had been in love and could sympathize even a little bit.

           “You could try to right it. Can’t buy yourself out of it though like everything else,” He warned. “Woman can see right through that, especially women like her.”

           Alfie rested his elbow on his desk, putting his head in his hand. “She’s got my bollocks in a vice, she does. Haven’t even told her what I feel for her but she’s fucking got me wrapped ‘round her pinky like I was nothing but a toy.”

           Tommy was a little surprised he was being so honest. It showed the most humanity he’d ever seen in Alfie and it made him downright uncomfortable. “Well, you can figure it out, right? You know her better than me.”

           “Don’t know.” Alfie lifted his head and scratched the nape of his neck. “Still…you won’t take the money?”

           “No. You’ll find something to do with it if she doesn’t accept it.”

           “Don’t want the fucking money.”

           He wanted her.

~~~~~~~~~~

           That same night, rain spattered against the windowpane. Alfie had finally gone home. He sat in the parlor, trying to read. But he’d been stuck on the same paragraph for a while. His brain couldn’t absorb the information so he kept rereading.

           A banging on the door interrupted the struggle of his thoughts. Alfie set his book aside and heard Evelyn trotting down the stairs.

           “S’alright, Evelyn, I’ve got it.” He didn’t want the girl opening the door so late at night. He walked to the door and opened it.

           Louise was standing on the front step, looking like a wet cat. The rain had soaked right through her dress, her curls limp and sticking to her face. It was impossible to distinguish the raindrops from the tears on her cheeks.

           Her lower lip quivered. “Can I come in?”

           Alfie nodded. “’Course.” He said quietly and let her in. “Why’re you out there without a fucking coat?” He asked.

           She shook her head but didn’t answer.

           “Evelyn, get some towels, yeah?” He called up to the girl.

           “Yes, Mr. Solomons!” She replied.

           He led Louise to the parlor where flames blazed in the fireplace. He let her warm up a bit while Evelyn came downstairs with a heap of fluffy towels.

           “Miss Barnes, you look freezing!” She gasped and quickly helped the woman wrap up in the towels.

           “Thank you, Evelyn.” She said, her voice cracking.

           “That’s all, Lyn,” Alfie said steadily.

           The girl looked worried, not sure why Louise was there in such a state but left the parlor on his orders.

           Louise stood stock still near the fire aside from brief shivers wracking her body.

           Alfie backed up and sat down on one of the couches. He wasn’t sure what to say to her after their argument and subsequent coldness between them that day. He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his wide spread knees.

           She used one of the towels to do her best to dry her hair. “I’m sorry, I’m intruding so late.” Her voice finally came out in an ashamed tremble. The fire lit up her hazel eyes, glowing flecks of amber hidden in the irises.

           “S’not a problem.” He mumbled. “There a reason you’re here?” He didn’t want to sound cold, but he wanted to get down to the bottom of it. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to argue with her again. It hurt too much last time despite fully engaging in it without hesitation.

           She sucked in her lower lip, tugging on it between her teeth. “I have to apologize for how I treated you today and yesterday.” Her eyes were on his, holding sincerity.

           “You don’t need to apologize, yeah? Your emotions are your emotions, can’t change that.”

           “The truth is I’m not really angry with you. I don’t know what I’m really angry at.” She lowered the towel and folded it over her arm. Her chilled body slowly warming up beside the fire. “You don’t know what I went through with Daniel.”

           “You could tell me, yeah, if that would help.” He offered. “I’m all ears. I’m not angry and I’m sorry ‘bout all that yesterday. Weren’t fair for me to yell at you after what I did.”

           “No, I know.” She hugged herself close, keeping the soft towel around her shoulders. “I uh…I guess I should start from the beginning.” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

           Alfie patted the couch beside him so she would sit down.

           “I’m still damp.”

           “Don’t matter, it’ll dry, s’just water.”

           She nodded and walked over to sit on the couch. She kept her distance though, afraid he was still upset with her despite what he’d said. “My parents wanted me to marry this man that we’d known for a while, a family friend’s son. He was wealthy, Oxford graduate, with very good manners. But when I was with him...I felt like I was nothing but a little toy to tote around the events. He’d show me off and then act like I was just emotionless or nothing but a shell of a person.”

           Alfie furrowed his eyebrows and let out a grunt with a frown. He could get that impression from a lot of wealthy men.

           “I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with him, and if I married him that’s what I would have to put up with. My parents would look down on me if I tried for a divorce.” She reached up to brush her damp hair away from her face. Then she used the towel around her shoulders to try to dry her curls again. “I met Daniel, he was a driver for another family we knew. He swept me off my feet and I felt so excited knowing that there was something else to life. He’d take me out dancing and drinking. I felt like I was free. My parents hated him but I didn’t care. I eloped with him after six months. It was all right for a bit. He could never hold a job so I had to work too. I sold some jewelry, anything to keep us afloat. We had to move to Birmingham. But I was too stupid to see how things were changing. I thought he was just a down on his luck boy that would turn into my prince in shining armor. My parents would see that he was perfect for me.” She laughed bitterly. “I was such a daft teenager.”

           Alfie pursed his lips. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault and that most teenagers were daft. He certainly wasn’t a wise and orderly chap. He could imagine her parents would disapprove of him as well. The teenager with an unstable temper, a penchant for stealing, and the gift of riling up police officers.

           “I guess a year or so into the marriage I couldn’t ignore everything. He rarely kept a job longer than a week. He’d take my earnings and go off.” She waved a hand in the air disgust pricking at her eyes. “Gambling, drinking, having an affair, I never knew. Kept me away from the people I loved most. Often told me that no one would care for me the way he did.”

           Cyril padded into the room after pestering Evelyn for a treat. He went over to Louise, resting his droopy face on her knees. She smiled faintly at him and began stroking his ears. The motion kept her grounded as she recounted her history.

           “After a while, he started asking why I wasn’t getting pregnant. He wouldn’t let it go and blamed me. He just kept going on about how I was damaged and worthless.” Louise’s voice caught her throat. Her late husband’s voice echoed in her mind, ranting and raving about how she wasn’t a woman if she couldn’t get pregnant. “Said I was only good for fucking.” A tear escaped down her cheek.

           Alfie’s jaw clenched as he took out a handkerchief and offered it to her. Part of him was beside himself that a woman would be told such things. The other half of him wished he had the ability to raise people from the dead so he could kill Daniel again and again.

           Since he didn’t say anything, Louise continued, unaware of his seething beneath the surface. “I got so sick of it. One day, I challenged him. I said maybe he was the infertile one, not me.” A cloud covered her face as the vivid memory resurfaced. Standing in the dark kitchen, Daniel stinking of gin, look of rage burning his face red as the fateful words left her mouth. “That’s when he first hit me.” Her eyes focused on Cyril to keep her composure. The memory kept playing because she knew Daniel didn’t just hit her. She remembered the brutal force against her cheek as he grabbed her by the back of the neck and slammed her down into the kitchen table.

           Her breathing became shallower as she scratched behind Cyril’s ears. The bullmastiff could sense something was troubling her so he leaned his body weight against her legs. The pressure was comforting and allowed Louise to pull herself out of her own memories and return to the present.

           Alfie stood stock still beside her. Everything twisted around in his stomach; his heart lunging against his ribs, Louise’s past haunted him. If only he’d known. If only he’d been there. He would put an end to it immediately so she would never see abuse. So she wouldn’t have to wake up every morning with the scars etched into her bones. He knew what it was like to open his eyes and all the traumatic memories flooding through like sunlight. Every time he wished he could wake up without remembering. It was torture enough to have gone through it. But the lingering effects were salt in the wound.

           “I kept threatening to leave but I never did.” Louise began talking again once she composed herself enough. “I was scared he would kill me. There wasn’t any way I could back to my parents either. I know they loved me so much but I defied them every step of the way and ruined my life. I never got the chance to amend. They were killed in an accident.”

           She revealed what she’d kept from him on a professional standing. And Alfie wasn’t sure how Louise had managed to be there, sitting next to him. It was as if life kept hurling rocks at her but she continued to get up every time. “Lou…”

           “Alfie, I won’t thank you for what you did.” She looked up from Cyril, her hazel eyes still blazing in the firelight. “But, I can’t judge you for it. I can forgive you.”

           “Dunno if you should.” He muttered back and reached back to run his fingers through the back of his hair. “I didn’t fucking listen to you like I should’ve…”

           “I thought about killing him.” Her voice came out in a choked gasp as if someone had been choking her but finally let her breathe again. It was something she’d kept to herself. No one around her could understand. But if anyone could it would be the man who had killed Daniel.

           Alfie blinked and almost asked if he’d heard her right. But there was no mistaking the words.

           Her eyes were hard as she nodded shakily, sensing his disbelief. “And not just like… ‘Oh, I wish he’d disappear’. No, I uh…I thought about taking a pillow and just-” She pressed her hands down on her thighs to mimic smothering someone. “But I wasn’t strong enough. So I looked for other ways out.” She looked down again in shame. She was delving into her darkest thoughts, shining a light on them. Everything looked so ugly when illuminated.

           The man beside her could think of many ways to dispatch of Daniel but he didn’t want to make her feel worse. Women like her didn’t need to hear the details of how he got rid of problems.

           “If I tried to kill him…he’d kill me. If I succeeded in killing him, I’d probably be hanged. So…” She twisted her fingers together, stray raindrops slipping between her palms. “I figured the easiest way would be to end my own life.” Louise couldn’t help but let out a small sob. She couldn’t contain it. The act of speaking those words was too painful but she felt a burdened eased off her.

           “Lou...” Alfie shifted a bit closer to her. He wasn’t the best at comforting people. Usually, he was the reason people needed comforting.

           “I know it sounds so silly. There are people who have it far worse than I-”

           “Louise.” He interrupted her sternly. “That’s ‘nough of that. Fuck the world, yeah, you have the right to feel how you like. World’s not a contest of who has it fucking worse.” He clasped his hands together. “You’re the one who went through it, not anyone else.”

           She sniffled and looked up at him. Her lashes were glossed over with tears. The very vision a painter conjured when depicting the grief of a woman. The weight of the world pressing down on her and continuing to cut pieces away from her. God always took from the ones with the best intentions. Alfie felt like he deserved his misfortunes. He personally carved out the hollowness inside him. Every action he took justified another stab to the gut. But Louise was like him. She didn’t choose to do what he did. She never fought back like him. She complacently took the pain, only dreaming of a way of out it. Alfie indulged in the sin and misery. For a brief moment, he felt full. Having a man’s life in his hand, soaking in the fear of others, adorned in jewels, and passing along high amounts of money. But it never lasted.

           Louise lasted.

           “You’re safe now, yeah, won’t let anyone hurt you. But if you ever feel like that again, you tell me, yeah?” He wouldn’t take suicide lightly. He’d seen men in the war ready to end the suffering. Some men who made it home were unable to cope. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Louise made that decision. “You don’t have to tell me. You could tell Evelyn, Ollie, fucking call up Tommy Shelby if ya need to. But promise me,” He held her gaze to ensure she knew how serious he was. “Promise you won’t keep it to yourself. Because you don’t need to.”

           Louise wiped at her eyes and nodded. “I will.” She whispered weakly.

           Alfie nodded. “Right, good. Need you around.”

           She cocked an eyebrow at him. The wording had come out a little desperately, much more than he intended.

           “Mean, who else could be my secretary?” He hurried to cover up any hints of affection towards her. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. She didn’t want him. “I mean, fucking hell, I can actually read your writing. Ollie’s was just chicken scratch, wasn’t it?”

           It drew a smile from Louise. A sunbeam breaking through the clouds. “I’m sure it’s just fine. You’re too hard on him.”

           “Nah, you’ve got great penmanship. Lovely, innit? Like art it is.” He praised her to bring out her smile even more.

           “Who thought penmanship would be so coveted in a gangster’s world?” She sighed and shook her head. It was something she had to come to terms with. Alfie Solomons was a gangster. She worked for a gangster. “I mean I don’t know my way around a gun to save my life.”

           He chuckled. “Business ain’t all blood. Keeping books, now that’s crucial. ‘Sides, I could teach you how to shoot.” He offered. “To protect yourself.”

           Louise made a face. “I will respectfully decline.” She reached down. “I have this for protection.”

           Alfie was startled as she hiked her skirt up to her knee. If that wasn’t surprising enough, she unsheathed a knife from a thigh holster.

           “Fucking hell, do you always have that?” His eyes were wide and she allowed him to examine the knife.

           “After I left the hospital I started carrying it.” She admitted sheepishly. Every time she put on the holster she felt unlike herself. She wasn’t shielded in the bubble of her upbringing anymore though.

           “’S’good, keep it.” He gave it back to her, taking care of the sharp blade. “No one in Camden will touch you though.”

           She bent down to return the knife to its holster. “What do you mean?”

           “You’re under my protection.” He straightened up and rolled up the sleeves of his loose fitting shirt. “Anyone who knows what’s good for them will steer clear.”

           Something pinched in Louise’s stomach. He was threatening the entire Camden Town area. Letting out the news that anyone who harmed her would end up like her late husband. It was startling and comforting. Something strange to behold. She bit the tip of her tongue but couldn’t stop herself. “That’s why you left him on the street? To send a message?” Her voice warped around the unfamiliar phrase.

           He grunted and tugged at his beard. “What I do, all my misdeeds, yeah, you don’t have to hear. I won’t involve you in nothing, never intended to. But you want me to be honest, then I will.”

           Louise smoothed her damp skirt down and crossed her ankles. “I want you to be honest.”

           He nodded slowly, almost in a dazed state. He stared ahead at the fire that was starting to lose its power. “Your husband was the last man to lay his hands on you.” His voice was full of conviction. Anyone who tried to defy that would meet a gruesome fate. But Louise didn’t need to know the details. “Anyone who lays a hand on you in Birmingham will have the Peaky Blinders on them. And I’ll fucking admit I wouldn’t want those fucking animals after me. Had that happen before and can’t have that happening again. Nicer when we have an understanding.”

           Louise didn’t want to linger on the fate of foolish men. “So…how many other…families are around?” She had no idea about underground criminal syndicates. She wasn’t even sure her parents knew.

           “Depends on where you are. You got the Italians, Sabini. Got a few more in Camden, allies with them though. They know I run the Town.” He said a bit cockily. “Fuck there’s a gang of all women and I swear they’ve got she-devils in them. Wouldn’t cross them.”

           It was funny to hear the brutal man talk about people he personally wouldn’t cross. “I thought you were the tough one around here.” She tilted her head to the side. She couldn’t imagine there was someone as ruthless as Alfie.

           “Well, don’t think they’d cross me without good reason.” He rested an arm across the back of the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “It’s about balance, can’t have one bloke have all the power. You can’t go ‘round killing everyone or you’ll have their mates coming after you. Everything’s calculated. It’s not a manner of who’s deadlier, it’s ‘bout who’s smarter, cunning, yeah?”

           The woman was starting to become a little nauseous at the idea. They were all walking a razor-thin rope. One misstep could kill them. She swallowed and gathered herself. “Well, it’s late. I ought to get home.” Her voice rambled out hurriedly.

           “You could stay the night. It don’t matter.” He offered and stood up.

           “No, I’ve pestered you long enough.” She said and cleared her throat.

           The rain was still pelting like bullets against the windows. It was pitch black and hard to see past a foot ahead.

           “Shouldn’t walk home in this.” Alfie shook his head. “Just stay the night, I’ll drive you in the morning if it’s still pouring.”

           “No, Alfie, thank you.” She patted Cyril’s head and went for the door. The cold rain wasn’t pleasant but she still needed to process a few things about it all.

           “Louise, just the night. S’fucking awful out there, don’t want ya to catch your death.” His blue eyes pled quietly.

           She sighed and nodded. “Okay, just tonight.”

           “Evelyn?” Alfie called up to the girl again. “Would you make up the spare room for Miss Barnes?”

           “Of course, Mr. Solomons, Louise, can I draw you a bath?” The girl appeared at the staircase landing.

           “No, thank you, Evelyn.” She smiled. When the girl disappeared, Louise turned to him. “Thank you for speaking with me.” She said quietly. “But, Alfie, I just want you to know that this won’t be easy for me. I will still work for you but you can imagine my…apprehension.” She didn’t want to mention her husband. She’d given him more than enough grief for that and felt like she didn’t have a leg to stand on when she realized how little she mourned the loss. But she wouldn’t become like Alfie. “I just…I wanted to apologize for yesterday and what I said. You’re not heartless. A heartless man wouldn’t let me in and listen.”

           He gazed at her, feeling more than conflicted. While he knew he could have compassion, he wasn’t sure if she still wasn’t seeing him in the correct light.

           “I think I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” Her lips pursed and she tugged at her dress sleeve. “You promised to protect me. But my trust is very small for anyone these days. I’m sure you could understand that.”

           He nodded stiffly. “Very well…I know that very well.” She was to be trusted though, even if it was blind trust. Blindly trusting her because she was something so treasured in his eyes. The key to a damaged and hellish man’s heart. Foolish.

           “Well, goodnight then.” She said and touched his arm, her fingertips grazing over the white sleeve.

           Alfie stood at the base of the staircase, watching her ascend. He put his hands in his pockets as if to hide the residual blood on his hands. All the blood from every man he’d finished off. Every heart he stopped from beating. Every last breath he’d snatched out of the air. Something Louise would never understand and never see as virtuous.

           He could never be virtuous for her. But he longed to have her anyway.

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

#alfie solomons #alfie solomonsxoc #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky fookin blinders #fanfiction #ofc #oc #tom hardy #tom hardy character

[magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics]

The Lives We Lost - Request

Requested by  @ archiekins-ronnie: cAN I PLEASE HAVE A HARRY POTTER IMAGINE!! happy and angsty pls?? maybe like they have a one night stand before the war and she ends up pregnant but they dont know and when they find out shes pregnant, its too late and the baby ends up dyinf. but in the end theyre happy and fluff pls?

Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader

Word Count: 3.393

Warnings: Not edited, I changed a bit from the original story. I wrote this by memory. Trigger warning: baby loss. I don’t know what it feels like, nor the emotional pain of the loss, so I’ve you’ve been through this, please understand this.

A/N: First of all, I’m not sure if magic actually works the way I wrote but screw it. I had to change the timeline a bit, and also I tried avoiding certain scenes because, if you’re reading this, I’m assuming you already read the books and/or watched the movie so it’s unnecessary. It’s also the first fic I wrote about Harry Potter since I took my break, and I haven’t rewatched the movies nor reread the books in a while so please be patient.

Enjoy!

The war had started out of a sudden. The lives of innocents were being taken, and there was no place left to hide. It was terrifying. The world was covered in a darkness that - they feared - would never fade away.

Mothers hid their children behind the walls, up in their attics and some of them even sent them away. Muggleborns slept with one eye open, fearing that death would come at any time, and even pure-blooded families feared that they would be forced to join the Dark Lord’s side.

During the last nights of peace - fake peace - Harry had tried drowning his sorrow in alcohol, for it was the only thing that could cover up reality, replacing it with wonderous visions of the pink-coloured life he wished for.

There was a waitress, who appeared once Harry was absolutely drunk. She was beautiful as a lily, and had the fearless attitude of a lion. She’d laugh at Harry’s jokes, and always talked from a clever point of view.

It was inevitable for them to, eventually, end up together in one of those rooms the Leaky Cauldron rented for passerby witches and wizards.

Their lips found each other’s when the sun was starting to come out. Harry had drunk all night long, and she had been his company throughout the whole process. She was comprehensive, and had a deep attachment to the boy who lived, because she saw him not as a saviour but as a poor fellow who had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She was about to leave - her shift was over - when Harry managed to grab her arm. She looked down at the drunken boy, all sweaty and blushed.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, “Stay with me, I don’t want to…”

“To what, Harry?” She inquired, knowing exactly what he meant.

“To die.”

She knew what he meant. It didn’t involve Voldemort, nor a Death Eater, nor anything anyone else could think of; he meant die by his own hand. He was too young to live with that pressure, yet he managed somehow to survive each year… But, during the past nights, with all the events going on, he had considered the easy way out - easy for someone whose loved ones’ lives didn’t depend on them - and she knew it, she knew it because he confessed it night after night, between whispers and tacky jokes. She knew it, because he had told her more than once, not only with words but with actions, glances and silent tears.

“I’m taking you to your room,” She said, helping him up and then guiding him to the upper floor and then to his room.

Harry allowed her to drag him around the place. She made him sit on his bed and take his shoes off, she placed a bucket by the side of the bed, just in case, and closed the curtains to avoid the sun from leaking in.

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry observed. His tongue was clumsy, due to the alcohol he had consumed.

“I know,” She replied, turning to look down at him.

“Are you going to stay?” He asked, giving her the best puppy eyes he, under the effects of alcohol, could do.

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m your waitress, that’s all.”

“I thought we were friends,” Harry chuckled sadly.

“Only at night… You ask, I pour, you drink, I listen… That’s how it works.”

“What about day time?”

“Huh?”

“You said we were friends at night, what about day time?” Harry insisted, trying to get up from bed.

“During day time, we don’t know each other,” She answered, as she pushed Harry back to the bed.

“I think we should get to know each other,” Harry slurred and kissed her softly.

His lips were dry and he tasted of gin and that frisky potion he decided to try that night. There was also a slight taste of salt and something else - the taste of warmth.

“Stay with me, please, just today,” Harry begged over her lips.

And so she stayed.

That night, when she returned to work, Harry was no longer at his usual table at the corner. The clerk told her that two wizards had gone to look for him an hour after she left his room and had taken him to a secret location.

“He was too exposed here, I suppose,” The clerk commented.

“He was,” She nodded and got to work, willing to forget about that black haired boy.

Two months later, the whole Wizarding World was out of control. There were Death Eaters all over the place, killing innocent mudbloods and recruiting young purebloods to their army.

(Y/N) had managed to stay out of the radar by pretending to be a muggle; she had moved to a muggle restaurant to continue working as a waitress, had hidden away every magical artifact inside an enchanted trunk that was supposed to cover all magic traces.

She lived like that for a whole month. Just when she thought she was going to make it past the war, somebody knocked on her flat’s door.

She opened, fearing the person on the other side was an enemy, and was surprised to see three strange looking teenagers. One had titanium blonde hair and quirky eyes, the other one was a red haired with her face covered face, and the third was the only male in the group, with chubby cheeks and dark hair.

“We need your help,” he spoke.

“Who are you?” (Y/N) inquired, although she was certain to have seen them around.

“We’re Potter’s friends,” the blonde one said, “he told us you could help.”

“Help with what?”

After a very short explanation and a lot of begging, the three kids convinced her to go back to the magic world and help them take care of refugees. She knew the Diagon Alley like the palm of her hand, and so she could be plenty helpful for them.

When she returned, she couldn’t help but notice how changed everything was. The only colour out on the Diagon Alley was coming from the Weasley Twins’ store, and yet it looked brim and dying.

She got to work with Aberforth Dumbledore, helping refugees to cross from Hogsmeade to the Alley and back to the muggle world, and vice versa. It was dangerous, but it was required for her fellow witches and wizards to be safe.

One particular night, the boy who lived returned to the Leaky Cauldron, followed by his two best friend, Ron and Hermione. Neither (Y/N) or the clerk knew why exactly they had returned there, knowing it would be the first place where Death Eaters would look for him.

“I need to get back to Hogwarts,” he explained to the clerk. (Y/N) was hiding in the back, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, but we must be quick before the Death Eaters know you’re here,” the clerk urged, “(Y/N)! Prepare the portrait.”

“(Y/N)?” Harry gasped, “Last time I heard from her, she had escaped the magic world.”

“Well, she’s back, and she’s been very helpful.” The clerk shrugged his shoulders and turned around to go look for (Y/N), who hadn’t replied instantly.

“Is (Y/N) the waitress you told us about?” Ron asked in a whisper.

“I’m afraid so,” Harry answered.

“You think she hates you?” Ron asked again.

“Why would she hate him? He did nothing wrong, and I’m sure she’s absolutely comprehensive about the situation,” Hermione defended.

“Well, I’m just asking, you know how girls get when..:”

“When what?” Hermione interrupted Ron.

“Nevermind,” Ron sighed.

“NEVERMIND! Are you serious? You think us girls get all weepy for you guys because your ego is so inflated that…”

“STOP!” Harry exclaimed, “This is no time for discussing, and if you raise your voice once more we are risking to be heard from the outside.”

“You’re right, sorry,” Hermione apologised.

“I’m sorry,” Ron mumbled and then both of them fell into an absolute silence.

The clerk returned to the trio. “She’ll be out in a second, she’s just not feeling well.”

“I told you,” Ron whispered and Hermione elbowed his ribs. “Ouch!”

“What do you mean? Is there anything we can do?”

“No, it’s fine, she’s just… I don’t know, she’s been feeling sick lately, but I guess it’s just the stress from the war and all that,” the clerk dismissed.

“All right,” Harry nodded.

(Y/N) went out with a loud exhalation and Harry instantly locked his eyes to hers. She smiled just like she did whenever her shift started and had to go to Harry’s table.

“Hey, Potter,” she greeted and moved past the bar and to a portrait of an old witch that was hanging in the further wall.

“Hey, (Y/N)” Harry greeted as well and followed her.

(Y/N) started talking to the old hag, who was asleep. Waking her up was no easy task, and that was the exact reason why that portrait was picked to work as a secret passage - there was no way a stranger could open it.

“Another one!” The witch complained.

“Three, actually,” (Y/N) muttered.

“Why? WHY? I was dreaming of being saved by Sir Cadogan and you woke me up to help three intruders into the town!”

“Shhh!” (Y/N) begged, “Please, it’s very important for us to get your help.”

The witch crossed her arms in front of her and closed her eyes, as an attempt to ignore them. (Y/N) turned back to the trio, apologetically, “She’s been doing this lately, but she’ll agree soon,” she explained.

“I won’t, not this time,” the old hag snapped back, opening only one eye.

“We must hurry,” the clerk rushed and took a chance into convincing the witch.

Suddenly, the main door got blown away by a very powerful spell. Five Death Eaters marched inside, with their masks on and their wands aimed. Without further notice, a small battle started. Rays of light hit the walls and floors, destroying whatever they touched.

The golden trio had taken the front row, defending themselves and (Y/N) and the clerk from the curses casted by the Death Eaters, and throwing counter attacks in an attempt to stop them.

“I’ll fix this, you go help,” the clerk ordered (Y/N). He was a squib, and so he couldn’t do much but try to convince the witch to let them through.

(Y/N) took her wand out, something she hadn’t done in a long time, and started casting basic spells. She was out of practice, and her spells weren’t quite as powerful, and yet she was a big help to the trio, for she was a good distraction.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” One of the Death Eaters casted towards (Y/N), and hit her right in the belly. Harry, Hermione and Ron instantly turned their focus to the poor girl, and this was taken as an advantage by the Death Eaters, who vanished in a matter of seconds.

(Y/N) fell on her back and began to breathe heavily. She became pale and started sweating, and Harry quickly reached to her, wrapping her in his arms.

“Why isn’t she dying?” Ron inquired. That spell was known to work for an instant kill.

“I don’t know,” Hermione replied.

(Y/N) screeched in agony, and then looked down. A pool of blood was growing between her legs; the spell had done its job, except it had taken someone else’s life.

“No, no, no, no,” (Y/N) cried as she realised what had happened.

“We must take her to a hospital,” Hermione commanded, kneeling by her side.

Harry was speechless, crying with (Y/N), feeling deep inside that the baby could’ve been his.

“Hogwarts has a working nursery, you must take her with you,” the clerk spoke. Hermione noticed the witch from the portrait was gone. “She’s asking for entry, don’t worry. Take (Y/N) with you.”

“Who’s going to protect you? Those Death Eaters noticed the portrait, they will come back for you.” Ron said.

“I will leave as soon as you cross, and the witch won’t return after crossing you, that was her condition for this one favour,” The clerk solved.

The witch came back and opened the portrait. Behind it, there was an empty passageway. Harry carried (Y/N) in his arms, for she had fainted, and ran inside. “Thank you,” he said, “I’ll make sure she’s safe,” and with that he disappeared into the darkness.

“Please, run away,” Hermione begged, “you’ve been of great help, we will never forget it. Thank you.” She followed Harry.

Ron handed the clerk some smoke bombs from the Weasley store, “these will give you extra time,” he said and followed his friends after thanking him. The clerk shut the portrait immediately.

They would find out later that he got killed when trying to escape the Leaky Cauldron. There were Death Eaters behind the main door, who attacked him right after he opened it. His body couldn’t be retrieved.

When (Y/N) woke up, she was at the Great Hall. It had been a long time since she had even been to Hogwarts, and it was extremely different.

The blonde girl that had asked her to help them was by her side. She introduced herself as Luna, and tried to explain to her what had happened during the time after her fainting.

The war had unleashed, and she had to be taken to the Great Hall, to make sure she was taken care of. Madame Pomfrey had put a spell on her to sleep for as long as her body healed, and therefore nothing else could wake her up.

“Where’s Harry?” (Y/N) asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m afraid he’s done something silly,” Luna said, in the most serious voice tone anyone would ever hear in her.

(Y/N) took a look around. There were plenty of corpses and injured kids around her, and the least damaged ones were helping them to heal their wounds and retrieve the bodies. She could hear and see the teachers she had known before crying over their dead students, friends and families mourning deaths while wrapping bandages around bloody limbs. The dark lord had been “kind” enough to give them time to get back up.

(Y/N) didn’t think twice. She got up from the floor, ignoring her still aching womb, and started helping everyone she could. She felt terrible for not being able to help during the war.

“Everyone come out!” A voice cried from the Great Hall’s door, and they all obeyed.

Lord Voldemort was leading his troupe to the Main Entrance. They weren’t wearing masks, and (Y/N) could recognise some faces from afar for being regular clients at the Leaky Cauldron, clients who had been nice to her. Hagrid was carrying something in his arms, and everyone around (Y/N) started mumbling suggestions about what that could be.

It was Harry.

“Harry Potter is dead!” Volvermort exclaimed, and burst into laughter. His Death Eaters followed along, as McGonagall cried out a loud “NO!” that surprised all of her students, for she hadn’t ever done such sound before. (Y/N) burst into tears, along with everyone else.

He was the boy who lived. They all risked their lives to save him, and defeat the dark lord, and it had all been in vain. A good man, friend, lover, was gone and the enemy had succeeded.

For (Y/N), Harry’s death meant she had to overcome not only the death of her child, but also the death of said child’s father.

Voldemort gave a strange speech, which (Y/N) ignored completely, for she was too focused in her sorrow to even listen to anything else. However, she did notice Neville Longbottom walking forward to the army of Death Eaters, who mocked him carelessly.

“I want to say something,” he said, and Voldemort allowed him to continue. “It doesn’t matter that Harry is gone, people die every day. Friends, family… Yeah, we lost Harry tonight, but he’s still with us in here,” he pointed to his heart, “and so is Fred, Remus, Tonks, all of them. They didn’t die in vain, but you will, cause you’re wrong!”

(Y/N) zoned out once more, she swore to have noticed Harry’s chest moving from afar.

“For all of us!” Neville finished and Harry jumped out of Hagrid’s arms. (Y/N) lost her breath, just like everyone else, whose faces turned into smiles.

The war started again, except this time was a bit less violent for tons of Death Eaters vanished in the act, fearing to be on the wrong side.

(Y/N) fought with all her might, teaming up with strangers against the remaining Death Eaters. There was hope in everyone’s eyes, hope that they might win the fight after all. Harry was alive, and just like the prophecy claimed, he would end the Dark Lord’s reign of horror.

Everything afterwards was blurry. Blinded by adrenaline, (Y/N) fought her way back to the Main Entrance, and then Harry faced Voldemort and succeeded. They had won, the Battle was over.

They had to retrieve a couple more bodies, and heal lots of new wounds, but the vibes in the castle had changed from what (Y/N) woke up to. There were, of course, people still mourning but there were also some that celebrated their victory.

Some were tired of fighting and wanted to get back home, some others found nothing else to do but dance without any music at all, and laugh at whatever they could, trying to feel alive and happy again.

(Y/N) sat at one of the tables, she had just finished wrapping a young girl’s arm. She had tried to stop a curse with it, and ended up with a big, opened wound.

Harry’s eyes met hers, and so he walked towards her and sat by her side.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“I woke up to a battle, I used illegal curses against one of my favourite customers because he turned out to be a Death Eater, I’ve wrapped around twenty different wounds and helped a kid find her mother… I’m just overwhelmed.” She said and Harry chuckled, “But of course, nothing compares to dying and then coming back to life and fighting with Lord Voldemort and actually getting to kill him.”

“It was nothing, really,” Harry joked, and (Y/N) giggled.

“It feels weird to laugh about it,” she mumbled, “it feels weird to even say his name without fearing he’ll come back… because he won’t, right?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Harry said, looking around him.

“What’s on your mind, Potter?”

“I just can’t stop thinking about what happened at the Leaky Cauldron,” he whispered, “I mean, you are here, talking to me after being hit by a killing curse.”

“Maybe I’m a ghost,” she joked sadly.

“It’s surreal,” he said, “the fact that the baby protected you with this mother and baby bond… It’s basically what happened to me when Voldemort killed my parents.”

“Like father like son, then,” She muttered, “except this time the baby saved the mother.”

“So it was mine,” Harry sighed.

“I’m afraid so… You were the only one I was with during this whole thing and… yeah.”

“So what comes next?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied.

“We could find out together,” Harry suggested, she chuckled.

“We barely know each other, and I’m sure this is the first time I have a conversation with you being sober,” She argued.

“All right then,” he extended his hand towards her, “My name in Harry Potter, I just killed Voldemort, and I would really like to have some company right now.”

“You mean as friends?” She inquired.

“At first, yes, and if anything happens afterwards then so be it,” He solved.

(Y/N) smiled tenderly and shook his hand. “Hey, Harry, I’m (Y/N) and I’m no longer a waitress. I would also like to have some company right now.”

Harry smiled back, getting lost in her eyes for a second without separating their hands. The rest of the people around them kept on moving around, but they remained still for a couple seconds, feeling as if the world had vanished the moment they held hands.

Masterlist

Requests

Schedule

To-Do List

Forever Tags: @dekahg @myfriendmagislit @thecrazyhatwoman @pureawesomeness001 @bingewatchingmylifegoby @cutie1365 @one-left-foot

Harry Potter Universe Tags: @shadyladyperfection

#harry x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter universe #harry potter au #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter one shot #harry potter reader inser #imagine harry potter #harry potter one-shot #harry potter angst #harry potter fluff

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Eliza you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Sirius Black

↳ please refer to our character checklist

Sirius Black is a character held very close to my heart, and let me say that when your application came through we were obsessed! You capture him so well, I found myself so drawn in with every new section. From your explanation of him as a character to your headcanons and question responses, it’s obvious to us that you love him as much as we do and will write him beautifully. We’re so excited to see you join us, welcome to the group! *Your faceclaim change to Matthew Daddario has been accepted.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Introduction: I’m Eliza, I’m 22, and my preferred pronouns are she/her.

Activity: I’m currently in my final year of uni, so aside from any sudden tsunami of work (always possible) I’m legit doing nothing except sitting on my laptop trying to figure out how to procrastinate my Commodus essay. So, uh, high.

How did you find us? through the marauders era tag, I think!

Anything else? Nothing that I can think of.

IN CHARACTER

Desired character: Sirius Orion Black – Orion for his father. Sirius is a family name; he’s technically Sirius Black the Third, but that’s not something he likes to shout about.

Birthday / star sign: Sirius was born on November 3rd 1960, which makes him a Scorpio, and if you need anymore proof that astrology is real I don’t know what to tell you.

Occupation:

Bartender. Sirius doesn’t need to work – his Uncle Alphard made sure of that – but he learned the hard way that nothing’s worse for his mental health than sitting around all day, picking at old wounds. He works at a bar just off Diagon Alley, wizarding, except for the occasional lost confused muggle. He’s good at his job; he likes to talk to customers, he enjoys small-talk, and he makes a killer martini – plus, it’s the perfect position to be in to gather information. He’s friendly with his boss, and on the second floor there’s a large room that is the perfect size for meetings of a book club. A very special book club, with no books.

Faceclaim:

I absolutely love Miles, but finding gifs for him is tough – could I use Matthew Daddario instead? (or, if you hate him, Aidan Turner or Harry Styles or Ezra Miller?)

Reason for chosen character:

This is actually the last part of the application I’m filling in – I’ve spent ages trying to figure out how to answer this question. Why did I pick Sirius? I can write him well, that’s true, I have a proper handle on his voice and how I think he’d react in most situations, but it’s more than that. I think that Sirius, in any marauders era rp, has the greatest possibility for plots; he’s extroverted, has a finger in basically every pie, and his future looks pretty bloody dreadful from a canon perspective, which is something I love. Give me all the blood and tears you can and I’m happy. Besides, I like Sirius. I think he’s a good man at heart, but his flaws are so immense that he’s fascinating to write. So I guess I picked him because I’d like to be his friend, but would hate him at the same time, and that’s all you want in a character, really.

In this section you should also describe the character and how you see them.

Inherently, Sirius is a man with many flaws that often overwhelm him. He is trying to be good, but not always succeeding. He enjoys the pain of others too much for comfort; he can switch to cruelty in an instant when threatened. He has much less of a conscience than James does – in fact, many would say that James functions as his conscience, that the two of them are two parts of one whole. When, at sixteen, he finally left the Black family for good, he cut them off in his mind as well as in practice, finding it easier to cope with the pain if he forced the world into black and white instead of shades of grey. It is only as he gets older that he is beginning to see the difficulties of choice facing his cousins – but his pride won’t let him admit such a thing. He was brought up with all the prejudices that came with the Black family name; his parents, though not Death Eaters, were violent people, viciously against muggles and muggleborns. He’s certain that his father at least is a murderer, and knows that they rejoice in the insanity of his cousin Bellatrix and all that brings with it.

The main way Sirius coped with the loss of his family was by demonising the lot of them. That isn’t, in a way, incorrect: the Blacks were and are at the forefront of the Death Eaters, and Sirius was always too compassionate to easily accept that ideology. But equally he refuses to see any good in them. Anyone who is even neutral in the war turns his stomach. He cannot understand the difficulty of choosing between your morals and your family – after all, he did it, didn’t he? He sees fighting as the only moral option, and that puts him in conflict not just with Death Eaters, but with other bystanders too.

Preferred ships // Character sexuality // Gender & Pronouns:

Bisexual | cis male | he/him

Preferred ships: I’m a sucker for wolfstar, but honestly anything with chemistry works for me. If you can come up with a horribly angsty plot, so much the better, because Sirius is not lucky in love.

Details:

Walburga and Orion had a happy marriage, but it was not one that set a good example to their son in terms of love. They never showed affection in public – Sirius never saw them so much as hold hands; when, as he was storming out of Grimmauld Place for the final time when he was sixteen, he saw his father place a hand on Walburga’s shoulder, he knew that he had truly gone too far to turn back. Their affection was based on fierce loyalty, concurrent goals and ideology, and matching intelligence that they both passed down to their eldest son, but they treated each other only with cold respect in front of their children. With no model of domestic harmony to fall back on, Sirius has never been very emotionally capable. Passionate by nature but always unsure of the affection of others, he tended at Hogwarts to fall into a pattern of obsession and then rejection that had him labelled a womaniser.

Sirius’s love for boys – it is a love for boys, he’s long since accepted that; at first he told himself it was just because he liked sex, but that theory’s been scuppered over and over again – is something that he is relatively open about. He is lucky in that his group of friends are quite accepting; even those who don’t understand the sexual revolution that has been happening in the last decade see it as another of his quirks, oh, that’s just Sirius. His self-confidence, as fuelled by the Marauders, has meant that he has rarely struggled with his sexuality – it’s another thing his family would hate him for, and therefore something else to be proud of.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER

Potential plots:

1. James Potter:

James and Sirius are two parts of one whole – Sirius sees him, with typical casual self-deprecation, as the sunlight to his own shadow. Sirius is hardly the sort of person to let anyone take a curse if he’s in the vicinity, but for James Sirius is pretty sure he’d do anything. Not only did James complete the transformation, already begun through his parents’ cruelty, of Sirius from Pureblood supremacist to fully-fledged blood traitor, but also makes him the best person he can be. Around James, all of Sirius’s rough edges are smoothed out; he’s at his funniest, and also at his kindest. They see each other every day, people take the absolute piss, and Sirius loves it.

2. Remus Lupin:

Ah, Remus. Sirius has been in love with a lot of people throughout his life – he can’t help it, he’s a Scorpio – but Remus, well, he lingered. Not that Sirius would say anything, and he spends half his time mocking his friend so thoroughly that no one suspects, and anyway, he’s over it, obviously, times five hundred. But there it is – Remus Lupin, lingering.

They work well together, is all. Remus looks blankly at him every time he makes a bad joke, which is excellent for Sirius’s ego; when Remus wakes up bloodied and furious with himself and the world, Sirius is there, feet up on the bottom of his bed, bottle of water in one hand and cigarette in the other. Remus knows that Sirius secretly likes to read, curled up in his kitchen with a mug of strong coffee, and Sirius knows how Remus likes his gin (strong, expensive). They might not be like James and Sirius, but they can sit in silence for hours, and a lot of the time, that’s all Sirius needs.

3. Regulus Black:

For a long time, Regulus was Sirius’s only friend – something he now says in a tone that’s supposed to be funny, but no one really laughs. A large part of Sirius, larger than he’d like to admit, knows how similar they are, how easily he could have been like Reg, had he not been the heir and subject to more pressure, had he not had James, and for a while he tried to be James to Regulus. But it was fruitless; perhaps it always would have been. Every so often they see each other, and it makes Sirius want to go and drink for five days – usually he then does.

4. Aversio

Sirius was an obvious choice for Aversio recruitment – not only is his cousin Andromeda a member, but he has often vocally and emphatically (and sometimes violently) declared his dissatisfaction with the Order. Weighed down by bureaucracy and occasionally the very prejudices they claim to fight against, Sirius sees the Order as a useless, bloated organisation, too afraid to do anything except wave placards in the air outside the Ministry. He has taken part in several Aversio attacks, but keeps his involvement entirely secret, except from other members. He is suspected, of course, and doesn’t like to openly lie, but there’s no proof; he’s still a member of the Order on the surface. He sees fighting fire with fire as a moral choice – to do anything other than the utmost is to betray the cause, and to be no better than the enemy.

Mini-headcanons:

nicknames padfoot

star sign scorpio

mbti ESFP, the Entertainer

greek mythological counterpart Poseidon, god of the sea, of earthquakes, of storms and horses, protector of seafarers, associated with drowning and madness.

season autumn

deadly sin pride

heavenly virtue liberality

element fire

flower gladiolus. Gladioli symbolise strength of character, faithfulness and honour, as well as remembrance and infatuation, with a bouquet conveying to a recipient that they pierce the giver’s heart with passion.

colour storm-grey

wand elm wood, unicorn hair, 11 inches, excellent for hexes

patronus black dog

early bird or night owl night owl

greatest fear rejection by his found family

secret superstition has a terrible habit of crossing his fingers while he sleeps to ward off bad dreams

small facts

Sirius can ice skate. He can play the piano. He can ballroom dance. He can make a wicked spaghetti bolognese. He likes to read, but can’t write to save his life; his handwriting is something close to incomprehensible. He has an average singing voice, he loves muggle music, and he wishes that he was born a Beatle. When he was fifteen years old he lost his virginity to a distant French cousin of James’s somewhere behind the Potters’ Quidditch pitch. He has been in love, at various points in his school career, with Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, Glenda Chittock, and probably Minerva McGonagall. He hates anything that tastes like nuts, won’t touch sugar quills, and changes his hairstyle every three days. You can tell that he’s unhappy because he retreats inwards, goes quiet, stormy. He likes Quidditch but prefers motorcycles, much to James’s disgust. He thinks marriage is a scam, but secretly wants children desperately. He loves cats, but they hate him. He would die for his friends.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

Do you think it is more important to be feared or loved? Which would you rather be?

SIRIUS: Loved, for sure. Who’d say feared? Being feared is awful; there’s nothing more toxic. It wraps itself around your lungs like a sickness, like clove cigarette smoke, and twists you all up inside until it’s all you lust after, that look in someone’s eyes when they’re afraid of you. No, that’s not for me – I couldn’t trust myself not to want more. Love is good enough.

What is one thing you would never want said about you?

SIRIUS: That I was boring. Can you imagine? You’re sitting there, in your Hufflepuff scarf (you’re definitely a Hufflepuff in this scenario), and you’re eavesdropping on some older, way cooler students (one of them is especially dashing) and they say that they got trapped in conversation with you on Tuesday and couldn’t get away. They wanted to get away from you because you bored them to tears. I think I’d rather die than be in that position. You know what they say – all huff, no puff. Or something. Do they say that? They should.

If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it!

SIRIUS: oh, I’d absolutely invent a cure for lycanthropy. I don’t know if it’d be a charm, or a potion – probably a charm, because Lupin’s the worst at taking potions on time, and he’s the only werewolf I give a fuck about. Wait, did he not say that? Did he forget he was a werewolf? What, and I’m here, slaving over a cauldron, wasting my life away in this dingy basement (obviously I’m brewing this world-changing potion in a basement, by torchlight, also for some weird reason I’m wearing a full-length black robe?) like Nicholas fucking Flamel? I swear to God –

What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

SIRIUS: it’s not necessarily that I find making decisions hard. I make decisions fast, and find it hard to go back on them. It’s more that – well, making the correctdecisions is difficult.

When I was sixteen – and I’m not introducing my age because I think it excuses it; it doesn’t, I’m just trying to set the damn scene – I made a mistake that could have – well, I was going to say it could have destroyed my friendships, but it was more than that. It could have made me a murderer, and Remus too. I’m only telling you this because I am assuming it will never go any further than the two of us. I don’t tell other people’s secrets.

I hated Severus Snape from our first day at Hogwarts. He was arrogant, and he was nasty, and he was clearly in deep with the dark arts, which I don’t hold with. Prongs hated him too, for other reasons that he’ll probably tell you considering he takes any opportunity to go on about Evans. And sixth year was shit. Again, that isn’t an excuse – but that’s what my mindset was, that autumn. My uncle Alphard had just died. I knew that I would never see my brother again, and traitor that he was, he was – is – still my brother. I came back to Hogwarts in September and it felt like a dark cloud had just broken over my head. It wouldn’t go away. I’m going to put this bluntly, because it’s how I do things best – Remus is a werewolf. That’s relevant.

In November, we all knew Snape was sniffing around. Moony had been off at the beginning of the month, and it had been a shit full moon; I wasn’t in a good enough place to control him as well as I should’ve been, and we were all roughed up the next day, Moony the worst. Prongs had a nasty black eye, as I remember; I had a cut up face, Peter was limping. Snape had been watching us. We were all on edge; he’d been close to figuring out Moony’s secret for years, and we knew that if he found proof he’d spread it all around the school. He’d want Remus out – expelled, or worse. As December grew closer, we grew worse. We were snapping at each other, we were getting close to fights every damn evening. Moony was pale and ill the entire month, there wasn’t even the usual grace period between moons. It felt like everything was bad.

The full moon was on December 2nd. That day, James and I had had a catastrophic fight about everything and nothing – we bickered like fucking lovers back then. I bumped into Snape at the bottom of the Astronomy tower, and I – I told him where to find Remus.

God, I regretted it. I regretted it immediately. But even then, even though I knew it was wrong, I hadn’t figured it all out. I’ve always been bad at seeing consequences. When I found James and told him, I was laughing. I thought we’d give Snape a scare – then he’d never bother us again. James has always been a better man than me; he knew immediately what would happen. Remus would kill Snape, or bite him – we weren’t sure which was worse. James went after him. He saved his life. Snape wasn’t grateful, the fucker, but I – well.

Remus forgave me first. He shouldn’t have; I didn’t deserve it. I couldn’t give less of a shit if Snape dies, but Remus would have been affected; I would’ve made a killer out of him. But we could never fight for long; we don’t give each other the silent treatment. I think Remus would forgive me anything. James, on the other hand, took months. Even now, he looks at me different. That’s the sort of decision I’d take back in an instant. That’s the sort of decision I find hard to make.

REACTION TO LAST EVENT DROP

Sirius would be right up there with Amelia and Dirk at the Quidditch match – he fiercely believes that Aversio has the right way forward, and especially after the Order’s apparent dismissal of Edgar Bones’s disappearance (Sirius sees everything other than intense passion as dismissal), he’s feeling even more frustrated and disenfranchised. He would absolutely be helping Marlene and James, though likely getting in the way somewhat, given his tendency to go in all guns blazing (all wands blazing?) when it comes to his family. Fuck Bellatrix is his phrase of the week…well, the month. The year?

I don’t know if Sirius would take direct part in the actual mission to rescue Edgar – it probably makes more sense rp-wise if he didn’t, maybe because the others don’t trust him (though I don’t know if James would leave him behind). Either way, Ed’s return is a positive for two reasons – one, Sirius likes the bloke, and two, he’s hoping he can use Ed’s rescue as a concrete example of Aversio doing better than the Order. Politics, mate.

WRITING SAMPLE

Sirius Black was up a tree.

He didn’t spend a lot of time up trees, as a rule. But it was the first of September, and as such he was avoiding people - and in the Potter household, the only place it was feasible to be alone was in the branches of the huge oak tree in the grounds, out by the Quidditch pitch. He’d climbed it, hands slipping on the wet bark, about an hour previously, and he was starting to shiver.

It was unseasonably cold for September. The wind whistled through the leaves of the trees and caught at his hair, tangling it into messy curls; he huffed and pushed it out of his face and let the rain sweep down in huge sheets. He imagined it washing his features away, leaving him with nothing but a blank canvas which he could paint over, inscribe new eyes, a new nose, a new mouth. Maybe he would make himself a Potter. He closed his eyes and imagined them hazel and bright instead of grey and sharp, and knew he was being fanciful. In the Black household, being fanciful was on a par with dreaming below your station, and Sirius, though naturally imaginative, couldn’t shake that last remnant of his mother’s distaste.

He opened his eyes and watched the water drip off his eyelashes in diamond flashes. He was freezing. Surely, he thought, somewhat bitterly, if this was meant to be a formative moment in his life the world would allow him a few more moments to be at least healthily warm so that he could get his musings into better shape. But it was not to be: he was starting to shake, and even he couldn’t pretend to be fine much longer.

Below him, a figure was struggling through the wind, down the sloping grass from the front door. “Sirius!” the figure howled into the combative weather, the wind tossing his voice away towards the lake. “Oi! Black! Are you completely fucking insane?! Get inside, it’s half-eight! Mum’s made bacon!”

Bacon - now that, at least, jerked Sirius out of his stupid melancholy mood. He slid gracefully down the trunk of the tree and landed with a thump and a squelch of mud in front of his friend, who glared at him through rain-speckled glasses.

“I,” he explained, with dignity, “was having life-changing thoughts.”

“Brilliant,” snapped James, in a manner that suggested it most definitely was not. “But Catchlove’s tits can wait, Black, because I’m starving.”

#accepted app #sirius black

[deathbylowden]

Above the Line (Part IV)

Part I / Part II / Part III

Y/N POV 

Day one went a lot smoother than I thought it would, we wrapped on time and Beth, Charlie and I made our way back to the hotel where we all sat in Charlie’s room drinking a few beers. Charlie was half way through telling us a story about his husband when my phone started to ring. I excused myself and went into Charlie’s bathroom to answer it. 

“Hello?” I giggled, feeling the slight buzz from my second beer. 

“Y/N?” A sweet British accent asked, “It’s Tom. Tom Glynn-Carney” 

“Hey,” I felt my cheeks start to turn red, “What’s up?” 

“Me and the lads are about to head to a small pub down the street if you would like to join us.” His accent was so charming the way it trilled words. 

“We would love to, we’ll just finish our beers here and meet you there.” 

“Can’t wait to see you.” He chimed. 

“Same.” I giggled and hung up. I put my phone down and looked at myself in the mirror. What the fuck was I doing? I had already slept with one above the line and now I was flirting with another. “Get yourself together Y/N.” I said looking at myself. I took a breath and went back out to Beth and Charlie. 

“Who was that?” Charlie asked.

“Tom, he was seeing if we wanted to go and meet them for drinks at the bar down the street.” I smiled and took a swig of my beer. 

“As in ‘above the line’ Tom?” Charlie asked with a raised eyebrow. 

 “Yes.” I said matter of factly, “But just because he’s above the line doesn’t mean that we can’t be friends.” I said trying to convince myself more than Charlie. “Like Beth said earlier, doesn’t mean we can’t look.” 

“Here, here!” Beth giggled and raised her glass as Charlie gave me a knowing look. 

“Come on Charlie, it’ll be fun.” I pleaded with him. Charlie was like an older gay brother to me, we had met at USC while he was a senior and I was a freshman, and had always wanted to work together and were both ecstatic when we both got hired on Dunkirk. “What are you going to do these next two months in Dunkirk? Sit in your hotel room whenever you’re not on set? Plus we need you there to make sure that no lines cross” I winked at him. 

“You’re trouble.” He pointed at me, standing up and finishing his beer. “But, let’s go” 

The late spring air hit our faces as we left the hotel and made our way down the street to the bar, the three of us laughing and joking all feeling a buzz from the beers in Charlie’s room. We arrived at the small bar, which was old and a bit run down from the outside, your classic dive bar in American terms. Beth scanned the bar as we entered and found the boys over by a high top. 

“They’re over there.” She pointed. 

“I’ll meet you over there I’m going to get a drink. Want anything?” I asked my two friends, who both shook their heads no. We parted and I made my way over to the bar, “Gin and tonic.” I asked the bartender and smiled as I listened to the song playing, drumming my thumbs to the beat on the bar. 

“We need to stop meeting this way.” His voice breathed into my ear, causing all the hairs on my body to stand. I turned around to face him, leaning my back against the bar. 

“I’m starting to think you’re following me Lowden.” I said looking up at him. He was leaning into me, both arms planted against the bar on either side of me, less than an inch between us. He smelled like soap and whiskey. I had to give it to him he was a beautiful man and in any other circumstance I would have pulled his face towards mine and kissed him. 

“Would ye care if I was?” He asked with a spark of curiosity in his eyes. The barkeep returned with my drink and I pulled my wallet out to pay. “It’s on me.” Jack said reaching for his wallet. 

“No,” I protested, handing over my card before Jack could. “I can buy my own drinks.” I took my card back and ducked under his arm making my way over to the rest of our group. “Coming Lowden?” I turned and asked. He stood there for a moment with a small smile on his face letting out a small chuckle, shaking his head and followed after me. I was greeted by warm welcomes from everyone around the table, as I made my way over to an empty seat next to Tom, Jack taking the seat next to me. 

“I’m glad you came.” Tom leaned in and whispered in my ear, my stomach jumping as he did. I took a sip from my straw wondering what I had gotten myself into. Just then my phone vibrated, I pulled it out to see who it was. 

Beth: What was that at the bar? 

Y/N: What are you talking about? 

Beth: With Jack? I’ve never seen two people eye fuck so hard. 

Y/N: We were not eye fucking. He was asking me if I knew his call time tomorrow. 

I lied and put my phone away, looking over in Beth’s direction as she gave me a ‘you fucking lair’ look. I shrugged my shoulders and turned my attention back towards Tom. 

“Do ye’ play darts?” Jack asked, pulling my attention away from Tom and nudging his head towards the dartboard on the wall. 

“I—“ I twisted my face as he grabbed my hand and dragged me to the board, “I’ll be back.” I said over my shoulder to Tom as Jack let me go so he could pull the darts out and stand back to the throw line. “Don’t you think it’s a little rude to just leave everyone over there?” 

“They’ll be fine.” He handed me three darts and I rolled them in my palm, unsure what I was doing. Jack threw the first and it landed decently close to the bulls eye but he still cursed under his breath and moved out of the way to let me shoot. I rubbed my lips together as I lined up my shot, tossing it over my head, sending it in a flipping throw towards the dartboard, the feather hitting it and bouncing off to the floor. 

“What?” I snapped as Jack pointed then doubled over laughing while I blushed and bounced in my spot, covering my face. 

“Ye just—oh my God.” He couldn’t stop laughing while I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh at myself. 

“Maybe I meant to do that. Throw you off on how talented I am,” I offered, bursting out into laughter myself. 

“Yer shit,” He teased, straightening up from his laughter and taking his spot to throw. 

“Rude” 

“Pure shit” He winked. I glared at the back of his head as he threw again, this one closer to the bulls eye. He motioned behind him for me to come around and I moved towards him tentatively. 

“What?” I asked as he took my elbows from behind and maneuvered me to the throw line. “Oh Jesus Christ, don’t.” 

“Don’t what?” He chuckled, still holding on to my elbow. 

“Don’t do the teaching thing…that’s so done, dude.” 

“Dude?” Jack reared his head back, “Sorry, dude,” he mocked in an American accent. “I’m just showing you how to do it.” 

“This is so cliché,” I teased, rolling my eye. 

“Pshh, ye just don’t want to stand this close to me. Yer scared. I get it.” He positioned my fingers on the dart to show me how to hold it while I rolled my eyes and laughed at him. 

“Think highly of yourself. Not surprised. Actor ego and all.” 

“Ye clearly want me. The rudeness is all a defense mechanism. I get it. It’s cool,” Jack continued. 

“I’m about to aim this dart at your beautiful face.” I let slip before I could stop myself. 

“Good thing ye’d miss.” he smirked and cocked his head. 

“I swear to God,” I said to myself, turning my face up. 

“Pay attention. Jesus,” He chastised and I straightened up and looked at the dartboard. I let him show me how to throw, his hand moving to my waist as the other guided my hand, goosebumbs rising on my skin, causing every hair on my body stand. When I released the dart this time it stuck to the board and I squealed and jumped at the success then straightened up when I noticed his eyes big and staring. 

“What? I like accomplishing things.” I scowled, straightening my shirt. 

“Hey,” Tom walked over, placing his hand on the small of my back, “We’re gonna take off, you want to walk with us?” 

“We’ll finish this game and be right behind ye lot.” Jack stepped in. 

“I’m sorry I got pulled away,” I pouted to Tom, “let me make it up to you soon.” 

“Deal.” He said and kissed my cheek before the group left. I watched with butterflies in my stomach as he rejoined the group walking out of the bar. 

Jack and I played darts without keeping score for almost an hour after the group left. Our banter never ending and the profanity only increasing as both of our competitiveness grew. When darts got old we decided to have one more drink and moved to a two-person booth not caring about the time. 

“Best concert?” I asked. We started playing twenty questions and were well into the game. We seemed to have nothing in common and every time one of us answered, the other would shout at how stupid their answer was and it would side line our game for fifteen minutes while we argued it out. 

“Impossible.” Jack shook his head and leaned back in the corner of the booth, putting his foot up on the seat, resting his arm over his knee. 

“How is that impossible?” I took a sip on my drink.

“Because every concert I go to I think it’s the best concert I’ve been to. It’s not possible.” 

“Oh my God, you’re so annoying.” I shook my head and took another drink. 

“Why?” Jack screwed up his face like that made no sense as I wiped my upper lip. 

“Because! You fucking love everything! Everything’s great. Everything’s the best ever.” I rolled my eyes and laughed. 

“Not true.” He shrugged and shook his head in disagreement. “I’m just not a pessimist,” he returned, leaning across the table and staring at me. I huffed and pushed his face away. 

“Whatever.” I shook my head  over a grin and finished off my drink.

“Think it’s last call,” Jack acknowledged, looking over the emptying bar. 

“Why do you say that?” 

“Cause the barkeep just said it was last call.” 

“That’s fine. We should go anyway, early morning”  I dusted my hands off and scoot out of my booth while Jack got up with me. He followed me out the front door and I paused and looked at him. 

“Do you mind?” I asked as I held up the pack of cigarettes I fished out of my bag. 

“Go Ahead.” He nodded and I lit the cig in my mouth. “Ye know…” 

“These things kill?” I inhaled and finished his sentence. “So I’ve heard.” I turned my head and blew the smoke away from us. We walked in silence back to the hotel, every now and then our eyes meeting. 

“So what’s this above and below the line stuff ye were talking about today?” Jack stopped and asked right before getting to the hotel. 

“Oh come on Lowden, this isn’t you’re first rodeo,” I sarcastically huffed, stoping to put the cigarette butt out with my foot as I looked up at the confused look on his face. “You really don’t know?” 

“Never heard of it.” He cocked his head to the side. 

“So, above the line on a film set refers to anyone on the creative side of filmmaking. So directors, screenwriters, producers and lead actors. Below the line is everyone else who works on the film set.” I smiled up at him. “Like me.”

“And they aren’t allowed to mix?” His eyebrows furrowed as he narrowed his eyes towards me.

“It’s not that they can’t ‘mix’ it’s just that there is this ‘unwritten’ rule that you don’t get involved with each other. Like you hear of crew members hanging out and hooking up all the time, but it’s just not something that is done with below and above.” I could tell he was still confused. “No crossing the line is what we like to say.” I giggled. 

“That sounds like utter rubbish.” He shook his head. 

“Maybe,” I shrugged, “but them’s the rules Lowden.” 

“We’ll see.” He smirked, hooked our elbows together and escorted us into the Hotel.

#jack lowden x reader #Above the Line #my writing #jack lowden fanfiction #jack lowden blurb #jack lowden imagine #dunkirk fanfiction #dunkirk boys #dunkirk cast

[sweetlittlelie48]

[Translation] 100% SKE48 vol.1 Furuhata Nao

BUBKA already announced vol.3!! and we are still here at vol.1 lol

Yeah, some content (especially, regarding General Election) may be obsolete, but I think it’s still worth reading. This time it’s Nao-chan. She’s so adorable, saying that she will protect members’ smile. Nao is also a great performer. She really did change. You can see clearly in “Kin no ai, Gin no ai” live. I also notice that she stepped to another level when I saw her performance in Solo con. (must watch!!)

Hope you guys enjoy this interview!

Furuhata Nao in Miyazawa Sae’s graduation concert was spectacular.

She flew out of her beloved SKE48 to experience the world outside.

With frustration for not having gone to “Kouhaku” last year

And “Crisis” that Matsui Jurina mentioned,

In conclusion, she has decided!

 The love for SKE48 has doubled up, my “study abroad diary”

“everyone’s smile, I will protect it!”

 Awareness of being professional

 - Today, we think we will hold “Furuhata Nao commendatory ceremony”, so we rush from Tokyo.

Nao: *clap* Then, I would just sit still.

- That wouldn’t be an interview. Please let us ask *laugh* Firstly, Furuhata-san’s performance suddenly seemed different. Compared to the stage that I watched 2 months ago, the concert at Gaishi Hall in March was so spectacular.

Nao: Eh? Is that so?

- Eh? You don’t know? *laugh* It’s apparently different. Seemed like you’re holding an invincible weapon, full of confidence.

Nao: But I’m not confident at all. How should I put it…maybe, there’s some sort of feeling that has changed. I want SKE48 to be more excellent. I feel that my foundation is SKE48, I want more people to know this. I want the current SKE48 to be better. These thoughts came out through my performance.

- Oh..I see.

Nao: And, maybe I’m enjoying being an idol, enjoying singing and dancing.

- Furuhata-san in “Chicken LINE” was great. It’s like you have magic charm. You looked really confident *laugh*

Nao: I’m not that great.

- It’s like going through to another dimension. Does this involve with “Hana yori Dango” stageplay that you got a role in Jan. - Feb.?

Nao: I think it’s somewhat involved. My opinion towards SKE48 also changed. Before, I’d been thinking about what SKE48 should do, but now I focus on what I could do…

- I got it. You want to see how the group would change if you do something, so it’s shown in your performance, right?

Nao: That’s right! In the past, I was always worried about my position, but now I don’t compare with others anymore. Though I have higher goals than in idol group, but now SKE48 is more important than anything. This thought will never be shaken.

- I never thought you would think that much. I thought it’s just experience from stageplay that enhanced your performance. Anyways, wasn’t there anyone told you that “you look changed”?

Nao: None *laugh* Ah! Manager-san told me “your attitude towards work gets more professional” Of course, it’s because I experienced the world outside from stageplay. I have grown when I came back to SKE48. However, about acting, other co-actors were so great. I couldn’t compare to them.

- Is that so? I went to see it, too. I didn’t see any difference.

Nao: No, I wasn’t good at all. Not at all! I could realize that my attitude towards work was too immature. In SKE48, I’m classified as Onee-san. But outside, I’m just a kid. Though I thought “I have to do my best”, but I deeply realized how naive my thought is.

 The outside is greatly different

 - Furuhata-san in “Hana yori Dango” (as Toudou Shizuka) had to go to study in Paris. It’s just like you who came from SKE48 to study in the world outside

Nao: Ah…that’s true.

- Toudou Shizuka came back from Paris, Furuhata-san also has grown up when coming back to SKE48. It’s the same.

Nao: I never thought of this *laugh*

- As you mentioned, you “realized how naive your thought is” It must be tough for this study experience.

Nao: All actors/actresses are professional, right? Their dedication to the role was really different from me. They always study their script, pick up every detail. Not only that, they can also adapt to everything they were told. They are awesome.

- In March last year, you were one of members who challenged with “AKB49” stageplay. Then, you joined “Hana yori dango” How did you feel about that?

Nao: I thought this should help me grow up. I’m just an amateur, need to start from one. I thought “this will be good for Furuhata Nao for sure” As everyone was strict with me, I understand well that they did it for me.

- Strict?

Nao: This time, my mental got much stronger *laugh* It was like I really got crushed!

- Got crushed!

Nao: Though it’s me who couldn’t do it, but “49” still couldn’t compare with this…

- Wait a second, I heard “49” was so difficult that you wanted to run away from rehearsal, right? There were even some members who hates rehearsal that their face turned blue. Is this even more strict than “49”?

Nao: Yeah. I think Shino Isamu-san (director of AKB49) was very patient with us because members aren’t professional actresses. He taught us with understanding. Shino-san wanted it to come out as best as it could. He wanted to create good memories for us, so he put so much effort. Come to think of it now, I think he was too kind *laugh*

- So, it was totally a different world, right? Did you got scolded everyday like “Geez! You!”?

Nao: It’s not that harsh. The director was so patient. But what’s frustrating is me, knowing that I couldn’t do anything. Other actors’ level is high, I couldn’t catch up with them. I felt disappointed.

- Felt like everyone is studying high school math, but only you are in junior high, something like that?

Nao: Yeah, something like that. I didn’t want to cry at first, but I thought crying may be a way to express myself. So, I just poured out all feelings that I kept *laugh*

- I want to see rehearsal *laugh*

Nao: At first I thought if I cry, I would taint SKE48 but I didn’t tell anyone. In latter half of rehearsal, I cried almost every day.

- While other members were doing their jobs as usual, you had to face this alone.

Nao: Though other actors told me that I “have really strong spirit” but they may say it in order to encourage me. They said like “If I were you, I would have run away”

- I really want to see making *laugh* Isn’t it great to have this kind of experience? Furuhata-san was already great before the stageplay, you got even greater after that.

Nao: Happy to hear that.

- Just like Frieza in third form. (T/N: Frieza from Dragonball Z)

Nao: F…Frieza third form?

- You are almost the strongest one!

Nao: Everybody changes no matter what.

- Seems like studying abroad this time is successful.

Nao: Yeah! I’ll try harder.

 I want to protect Jurina

 - Let’s change the topic here. At Gaishi Hall, there was Miyazawa Sae’s graduation concert, how did you feel?

Nao: We saw members’ smile during performance, right? I want to protect those smiles.

- That’s huge *laugh*

Nao: SKE48 is where I belong. It’s the place like family. Having comrades is important, I don’t like it if there’s anything hurt members. When Sae-san graduated, everyone’s worried, right? Like in Gaishi Hall, I don’t like that kind of feeling.

- Your love for SKE48 is still the same, it never changes.

Nao: I also think that I still haven’t repaid SKE48 for letting me pass the audition. I’ve been thinking about this all along. I want to thank SKE48 and do something that I could do for them before I graduate. When I was standing on stage, I looked at fans who always support us happily. I don’t want good things to end, so I will not let their support go to waste.

- So, you had lots of thought at Gaishi Hall.

Nao: Then, after Sae-san got off the stage, Jurina-san said “SKE48 is in pinch”, right? I thought “Even Jurina-san said that…” Though she’s a big Senpai, I want to protect her. No matter what, she’s the face of SKE48. Since Rena-san graduated, she bears the burden alone. Even though I am junior, but I don’t want her to bear this burden on and on.

- What a deep thought. When members stood in row to send off Sae-san, what did you talk with her?

Nao: She said “Sorry, I couldn’t make it to your stageplay. It’s regrettable.” After I replied “that’s alright!” She said “From now on, please take care of SKE48”

- What was it like having Sae-san?

Nao: She’s someone that I wouldn’t be able to reach. That lively interaction with people, that kindness…It’s something I can’t imitate.

- It’s not like that. What do you think Sae-san has left for SKE48?

Nao: Warmth. Love is essential *laugh*

- You said something huge again *laugh*

Nao: I really think like that! To let the camera gets better shots of us, she represented us to talk with staff-san. She cried while speaking “I want SKE48 to be better!” When she talks with members, we can feel her kindness. As we received the love from her, we became more cheerful. That’s why love is important. This warmth led us to the right direction.

- That’s why Furuhata-san also changed?

Nao: I feel happier, have more fun. Sae-san is good at brightening up the atmosphere. If only Sae-san is there, the smiles enhanced. Once she graduated, I feel lonely.  

- Talking about graduation, Miyamae Ami-san in the same gen is also…

Nao: I could feel it a bit before she announced. I knew it from the atmosphere. She’s not good at lying.

- However, 5th gen becomes less and less.

Nao: That’s right. There’s almost 4 people left. It’s so fast. There are only me and Huppy (Harutamu), who are a bit grown up, and (Ego) Yuna, Narutin (Ichino Narumi) That’s all. Anyways, Ami-tan (Miyamae) also run for general election. There’s still time. I’m glad.

 The bet on general election

 - This is what we heard from other members in interviews of this issue, at Gaishi Jurina-san said “SKE48 is in pinch” but they can feel now that it’s getting better. The wind is shifting. What do you think?

Nao: It depends on how you look at it. If you look at the goal above, it’s still not enough. But because of Jurina-san’s word, members became more united. You can say the wind is shifting.

- That’s right. If we view it from different perspective, the answer would also be different.

Nao: Anyways, once we think that seniors won’t be here forever, what should we do? Of course, SKE48’s pillars are seniors, their popularity, their performance, interesting MC…seniors are also want to graduate to follow their own dreams, but how it’s going to be if they graduate? We, juniors, must work harder, must set a higher goal. Whenever there’s senior graduates, we feel the gap like “we’ve depended on her too much” As in current situation, there’s only Jurina-san who is well-known. SKE48’s goal is to “perform at Kouhaku!” and “hold a concert at Nagoya dome” But if we can’t gain popularity, those dreams wouldn’t come true. So, everyone has to be more well-known…do these things make you feel “you think too much”? If you think it’s not good, you don’t need to publish it.

- No way. I will publish them all *laugh* A moment ago, you said about “Kouhaku”, but looks like we still don’t hear the word “Want to be there again!” from members.

Nao: If we say it out, we must be aware and confident. Though I don’t know how much everyone wants to be on that stage, but we need to set goal for the group first, where we gonna go. We must make a decision, for example, betting on this time general election.

- Speaking of election, what’s your goal this year?

Nao: Senbatsu!

- Clear cut!

Nao: I want to enter Senbatsu! I’m almost 20 now, not sure how many years I will still be idol. If I can get into Senbatsu, maybe I can see the next step more clearly. This is also an opportunity to spread SKE48 around. Last year, I got 24th rank, so next it must be Senbatsu. I got fast pass to Senbatsu last year, I will not disappoint them (fans). To make it clear, I want 1-digit rank. I would be happy If it’s the position that will always be in camera. *laugh* Even if it’s difficult, I will keep moving forward!  

- So reliable! In the past year, do you feel that you have grown up?

Nao: My way of thinking has seriously changed. My feeling for SKE48 gets stronger. It really has changed. It’s so obvious this year.

- Do you worry about number of members that will be in ranking?

Nao: Last year, we ranked a lot. When people see in the news, they would think “SKE48 is popular” It’s a good thing.

- This year, we also look forward to your passionate speech. Speaking like “I really, really, really love SKE48” while crying. *laugh*

Nao: Seemed like Takamina-san also said “she’s so fired up” *laugh* If I get a good rank, I already have what I want to say in mind. I want to thank AKB48 because if there’s no AKB48, there would be no SKE48. AKB48 is like the beginning. I may not be here today if there’s no AKB.

- You answer wonderfully till the end *laugh* So, “Furuhata Nao commendatory ceremony” will end here.

#Furuhata Nao #SKE48 #100%SKE48 #translation