#I bet the wind blew his hat off at the end and he lost it to sea

[harveywritings92]

BNHA Dad scenario: You get your quirk! 2

Izuku: [You inherited your grandmother's quirk, you can telepathically pull objects towards you, but your is a tad bit stronger then hers.]

He was worried when you didn't show any signs of having a Quirk, and was mentally panicking that you'll wind up singled out like he was growing up! Of course today that was all going to change Izuku was taking a nap, when he heard something topple over, his green eyes opened as he looked over and saw you weren't sitting in front of the TV watching cartoons, he sat up now fully awake. "Y/n?" called out looking around the living room for his four year old.

then heard something fall in the kitchen. "Y/N!" Izuku jumped from the couch and ran into the kitchen to find you sitting on floor, mouth and hands covered chocolate with snack cake & cookie wrappers surrounding you; whimpering and holding your stomach, obviously not feeling well... Izuku was about to scold you for sneaking into the snack cupboard! But paused when he realized the snack cupboard was on top of the fridge... Way too high for you to reach. "Y/n, how did you get those cupcakes?"

You looked at him like a deer in the headlights... before turning green in the face and throwing up all the snacks you had stolen, causing your broccoli haired dad to briefly forget about what he was inquiring, pick you up and rush you to the bathroom! 

He made sure you were on empty and got you in the bath and than cleaned the kitchen, he then went checked on you... just in time to see you telepathically pulled a bottle of bubble-bath off the shelf towards the tub, ready to pour it all out! only for him to grab it at the last second. "Nice try..." He huffed giving you a stern look, yes he's happy you weren't Quirkless, but that didn't mean you were off the hook for raiding the snack cupboard!

-----------------------------------------------------

Shoto: [Your mom's Quirk is called Cyclone breath, she can breath in air and blow out powerful winds, His ice half combined with her wind quirk, Creating yours: Frost-breath, which is pretty powerful on it's own, the only downside is that just like your mom if you over use it, you get asthma like symptoms, so you gotta carry around an inhaler.]

Your family had sat down to dinner, you were having mac and cheese, but it was little to hot so naturally you did the logical thing and blew on it! both your parents flinched at the sudden drop in temperature they looked at each other, then at you to see you gawking down at your now frozen dinner shock, giving them both this help me look.

It took a lot of training with your mom to figure out how breathe with without turning everything in front of you into a skating rink! It sucks you got to carry around an inhaler around now, but ever since your quirk manifested it been harder to breathe without it, That Your older cousin [Dabi kid.] and her creepy friend {Shigaraki kid} seemed love using you as their personal Air conditioner and popsicle maker in the summer despite your uncle Dabi telling them to stop!

---------------------------

Warning here: Hawks scenario is fricking long! Cos my lazy but decided to combined two ideas into one, it might as well be it's own one shot!

________

Hawks: [Technically You inherited your mom's quirk Cheshire, it's a teleportation quirk it kinda works like.... um, If anyone played God of War 4, It's like how the dwarves can slip between realms, like people can see it, but their minds can't properly comprehend it, so it just look like your walking behind a tree, only to be seen coming out from behind a flagpole a few feet opposite the way you were just walking, however you also have little red wings on top of your head.

that are pretty much useless, but they're the only thing (aside from his eyebrows) that you got from your dad, Which Hawks finds adorable especially when they flap up and down when your happy or puff up when your angry.]

You ran away from home some bullies at school and your mean babysitter had convinced you that you weren't Hawk's real daughter and your Quirk seem to solidify that theory, so while your sixth babysitter? (You lost count) was distracted, you packed up some clothes and a sandwich and left, the whole time watching this delusional woman, (She thinks she's dating Hawks) rummage and steal from your mom's memory box, not even concerned that you've been quiet this entire time.

That was fine you'll be long gone by the time she notices... you thought as you put your hat on to cover the tiny wings on your head, ignoring the itchy feeling you got from your fuzzy down feathers brushing against their nylon prison, You looked at your room one last time as you remember all the fun times had here before slipping away into oblivion... and stepping out of the haze from behind a light-post across the road from your apartment building, and started walking you didn't know where, but anywhere was better then here, maybe if your lucky you'll find your real parents... You paused and glanced back at the apartments one last time then kept walking... sniffling all the while.

Meanwhile...

Hawk took a break off patrol he had weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was wrong, as soon as he step through the balcony door his heart dropped, he couldn't sense you anywhere in the nest! his instincts were on fire! as his feathers surveyed the penthouse for you, then stilled when they sensed someone moving around in his room. Keigo's eyes narrowed as he silently walked to his room to find your babysitter going through his late wife's belongings wearing her jewelry…

"What do you think you're doing?!" he said through gritted teeth causing your baby to jump and whip her head around to see Hawks glowering at her rage in his eyes. "Honey...I mean Hawks! y-your home early...um um." she stammered something whizzed by her embedding itself in the wall behind her, she hastily started taking off the earrings and necklace and his wife's engagement ring, telling him it's not what it looks like! 

He noticed her phone on the floor before she could stop him, his feather's snatched it he saw all the dating crap she'd lying and posting about, but really set him off was text she had sent talking about you... calling you an orphan and plans to send you away once Her Darling "opens his eyes" Keigo's rage reached it's boiling point, people can say whatever they want about him, But don't ever involve his little girl... it won't end well. Your babysitter watched in horror as Hawks destroyed her phone, then took a step back turned his death gaze on her.

"Get out, you're fired."

"But but… Hawks baby I lo-"

"Did I fucking stutter? I said get out!"

"*runs out of the penthouse crying*"

He knows that delusional woman was in the hall outside of his penthouse waiting for him come after her, she's not the first woman he hired who thought they're were the heroine to whatever fantasy they've concocted in their head, She'll find out pretty quickly that Hawks didn't give two craps about her as the apartment's security had been called to escort her out, what he cared about at the moment was; where. in. the. fuck. was. his. daughter? After the rage had subsided panic had soon set in as Hawks barged into your room the drawers were opened , your backpack and sleeping bag and [fav plush] were missing! Your dad started hyperventilating.

That woman... Had she done somethin to you?! He was going to call security and put her in holding ….Then Keigo felt it, that chill in his wings the familiar feeling of being physically pulled out of reality... he followed the feeling and he looked in your closet and found one of his feathers stuck...no, fused the wall, *You have her Quirk, Why didn't you tell me...* he thought then remembered what your mom had told him told him to do when his feather gets stuck in something... "Just clear your mind and think of me, your feather will find me …" Taking a deep breath Hawks closed his eyes thought about you, seeing you...finding you... like that the feather was free.

Meanwhile.

It had started to rain as you walked down through a park not sure how far you walked, but your feet and knees were hurting from the fall you had earlier, you saw some kids from your school got scared and ran you ended up tripping and rolling down a hill, scratching up your legs and covering your clothes in mud and grass stains...

While you were looking down at the ground moping a pair of shoes walked into your field of vision as a shadow sudden casted over you, your [y/ec] eyes looked up and saw a man wearing a dark hoodie that covered most of his face, his cerulean eyes regarded with mild concern. "You okay there kid?" he asked eyeing your legs and puffy eyes, That broke the dam all the stress and torment you endured the passed couple months all came out in loud wail..

The guy standing over you to panicked and tried shushing you, before picking you up and carrying you off, luckily bystanders mistook it for a parent dealing with their child's tantrum, and that's how you found yourself sitting on a bench under a bus shelter. while the man who introduced himself as Dabi put band-aids on your legs...which was strange, cos someone who looked like Dabi didn't look the type to carry glow-in the dark neon-rainbow band-aids! "They ain't mine...I got a kid about your age back home." the stapled faced man stated as if reading your mind, he sighed taking a seat next to you and examined your miserable expression, you looked very familiar but he couldn't quite place it... Something about those eye brows...  he shook his head.

"Speaking of home, you gotta a number on ya? I bet yer parents are probably looking for yo-" You cut him off. "I don't have parents and no ones looking for me!" You huffed stubbornly Dabi cocked a brow very skeptical at that claim, and was about voice that thought when something red caught his attention... His cerulean eyes squinted at the pole the bus schedule was nailed to and was surprised to see a familiar red feather just kind of shot itself out from behind it...

He watched it kind of sway around before pointing directly at you. "You're sure no one's looking for you?" he said watching feather bristle then harden when he spoke up, his eye twitched knowing that was a mistake, if that was here then that meant... *Ew, someone actually reproduced with that Kentucky Fried Dumbass?!* Dabi snorted.

"I know he's not looking for me, he wasn't my daddy he just felt sorry for me...Just like everyone else."

"Well everyone else is an idiot... and your old man obviously cares for ya!"

"No he doesn't... he didn't even go to my school on parents day..."

"look, kid I don't know what's going on with you and Chicken-Tenders, but he obliviously loves you."

"How would you know?" You wept keeping your puffy eyes on the ground and tears fell from you eyes, Dabi's voice had nervous edge as he spoke up again. "Because he's here..." You looked up at the scarred man in disbelief, only to see him starring dead ahead with a serious expression on his face, the little wings on your head twitched under your hat as you followed his gaze just in time to see your dad land, But something was off...

His wings were darker than usual and his eyes were feral and scary looking, like he was going murder someone... "Dabi.." he growled fist clenched as he slowly walked towards the two of you, when said cremator slowly stood up causing your dad's feather's to go haywire. "Easy Hawks... You know I'm not in that business anymore." Dabi said calmly holding his hands up, this only made Hawks more agitated a low growl escaped his throat.

"Leave..." the blond hissed obviously giving Dabi one chance, the scarred just put his hands in his hoodie pockets and walked, but as he was passing your dad. "Might want to set that kid's head straight, cos you're on the verge of losing her for forever." Hawks shot him a glare as he went over to you who was curled up on the bench looking at your dad scared.

Dabi watched from a good distance as his old enemy resolved things with his daughter there was a lot of yelling at mainly him screaming "Why did you run, what were you thinking Y/n?! I already lost your mom I don't want to lose you too! …"  a bus drove pass blocking out whatever else he was saying, as the bus passed Hawk now crouched at your level, he's guessing you were telling him what's going on... 

Hawks looked devastated with every word you were saying. He said something to you before taking you hat off, giving Dabi a view of the little red wings on your head he looked at Hawks managing to read his lips "You may not have my power, but those are definitely my wings!" the two of you hugged before Hawks picked you up and flew away.

Dabi waited a few seconds before taking out his phone looking through his contact and picking [My Fairy] and waited a few moments. "Hey babe... how goes the homestead?" his wife told how things were going at the dive and him it was al none of the rowdy guys bothered her. "Good to hear... is the kid still up?" Dabi waited a few second hearing his wife call his daughter over. "Hey, Firefly, how you doing?" he smiled as his daughter told him how her day went. "That's good, I'll be home tomorrow, give yer mom a kiss for me alright?...I love you too, Firefly" He hummed and hung up started walking down the street.

Back to Hawks

You both took a few days off to cool down they went out of the city for a while and visited your mom's grave, Hawks hardly let you out of his sight if he wasn't in the room one of his feathers was always there. He let you sleep in his bed for the first couple nights, when it was time to go back to school.

You sighed expecting another babysitter or sidekick to take you, instead you were surprised to find you dad waiting for you, which was bewildering he's usually gone or sleeping when you leave. "Why are you here?" you asked bemused you dad smiled and patted your head. "I'm taking you school obviously." He said taking you over the balcony and picking you up.

"Hang on tight Chickadee." he said before lift off the wind felt nice blowing through your down feathers the little wings on your head started subconsciously started flapping, which caused your dad chuckle at cute display, when he finally made to your school all the kids were in awe to see the #2 pro-hero landing in there playground, but what really got the kids was the fact that he was carrying you! 

Your teacher nervously came out the greet him where Hawks loudly exclaimed. "Oh, yes sorry for the late introduction and  thank you for looking after my daughter." His sharp eyes carefully caught every face in playground and noticed a certain group of kids looking like a deer in the head lights. It didn't take him long to figure out who putting all that orphan crap in your head, he made note to have a word with they're parents...

Keigo was brought out of his thoughts by you tugging on him. "Daddy let me down." he looked at you bemused before remembering right school!... Damn it, he didn't want to let you go! your first day was months ago! He reluctantly set you on the ground but didn't let go of your hand. Why the hell was the separation anxiety kicking in now? *because you weren't there the first time...* he mentally berated himself for missing out on that mile stone several in fact.

 The blond was confused why the school hadn't been calling him about you, he found out that one of his PR directors had been intercepting anything school related meant for Keigo and sending random representatives or sidekicks to attend them... Because apparently being a widowed father didn't look cool or edgy enough for the #2 hero's public image, Needles to say that guy wasn't part of Hawk's PR teams by the end of the day.

Keigo walked you the front door then crouched down at your level. "I'll be waiting right here when it's time go home, alright?" You nodded the and hugged your dad, (who may or not of slipped a feather on you, just in case.) "Have a good day, I love you." You nodded as walked inside leaving your dad outside, he stared at the school by before taking a deep breath and flying off...

=================================

{Wing horns photo source from a Manga called: Demon mother!}

#bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto torodoki #hawks x reader #keigo takami #bnha dabi #long post

[munsnz]

Quidditch Flirts — Fred Weasley

Warnings: none

Summary: You’re a Slytherin beater in the quidditch team, and a certain someone flirts with you during a game. You never came across him and that fierce Gryfindor has a thing for you now

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader

Note: I no longer write for the Harry Potter fandom, I’m sorry :(

Lydineo Radio: Cupid’s Chokehold — Gym Class Heroes

Masterlist — Requests are open

“GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR!” You heard crowds of students cheering on the Quidditch stands, you also heard the annoyance of a voice from Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin seeker.

”You’ve got to be kidding me,” He groaned and jeered, “It’s only for Saint Pottah! What kind of stupidity is that.”

You sighed and turned to Draco, “Oh come on, stop being a jealous brat.”

”Hey! You’re on our team, you were put here for a reason,” Draco snaps back, holding his broom up, “Come on guys, I think we’re going up. We’ll win this time, if we can beat the baby Hufflepuffs, we can do it.”

Marcus Flint, the quidditch captain shouted everyone over to the open sunny field at Hogwarts, tons of students were cheering on with their burgundy and yellow signs, hats, scarves, against the silver and green ones. Being a slytherin, everyone feared you, you weren’t like Draco Malfoy or Pansy Parkinson. You seemed ambitious in some areas academically, but you never believed in the pure-blood status in the wizarding world. Making friends was also hard, constantly being called a bully even when you never said anything to anyone, in fact, you hated Snape’s teaching. You never fit in with the Slytherins nor the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, or Ravenclaws. Sadly, that was the truth, you lie to yourself and say you have friends even when you don’t. No one seemed to understand you, not even your parents who were pure-blood supremacists.

You climbed onto your broom, one that wasn’t the one Draco’s father gifted you all. You refused to take it, so you stuck to your lucky one.

“L/N can’t wait to win this time!” A voice called from across the field. You turned around, afraid you were going to be made fun of, you met your eyes with a pair of brown vivid ones. It was Fred Weasley, the Gryffindor beater along with his twin brother. You never talked to Fred Weasley, until this one time where they pulled a horrid prank on you, embarrassing yourself in front of a crowd of students.

You scoff at the words and turn your game on, “We’ll see about that Weasley.” A smile turns up on your S/T face, darting a glare at him.

“Are you sure about that princess?” He shouts back, bringing a cheeky grin to his lips, sending you into a whirlwind of emotions by calling you that nickname. He seemed very flirty with people so this was normal, but not for you. Before you said anything back you heard Madam Hooch call the game.

”GET READY!” She yells unlocking the box including the Golden Snitch, the Quaffel, and the Bludgers. She blew the whistle and the game was on!!

As the chasers tried their best to shoot the quaffle through the hoops where the keeper protected. You and Lucian Bole, the Slytherin beaters, tried to hit the Bludgers to the opposing Gryffindors to win. While doing that, you were nearly close to getting hit by a Bludgers by Fred Weasley who was laughing his ass off at your wild expression.

“Oops sorry gorgeous!” Fred mocked across from you, “Guess I couldn’t see due to your pretty face!”

A flush of a tint of red splashed on your face, making your palms get sweaty for the compliment and snapped out of your daydream. He doesn’t even know me he-

“L/N! SNAP OUT OF IT AND CONTINUE PLAYING!” Marcus Flint shouts in the air as you turned up to nod at him and continue with the game.

You swiftly glided through the air in the quidditch field, avoiding the beaters so they wouldn’t hit you with the Bludgers. As you sped up a little with your bat, you heard  you heard Lee Jordan claiming that Slytherin and Gryffindor were from 50-30. You see that Harry Potter was near to grab the golden snitch out of sight from Malfoy, “MALFOY! HARRY IS CLOSE TO THE SNITCH!”

Draco turns around to see you directing to Harry, and began to speed down to Harry’s level in order to get the golden snitch and end the game. He reached his hand out to catch the small tennis-ball sized globe, but soon enough Malfoy lost his balance and face-planted himself onto the grass. Giving Harry a chance, he luckily was able to get his hands on the golden snitch, winning the game for Gryffindor.

You groaned at claim that was going to be said for the hundredth time and mumbled along Lee Jordan’s voice, “Harry Potter has got the snitch, Gryffindor wins.”

”HARRY POTTER HAS GOT THE SNITCH GRYFINDOR WINS!”

The area where most Gryfindor students were cheered loudly chanting their house name. Other students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff cheered them as well. You could hear Marcus Flint throwing a fit on his broom while Draco stood up from the green grass and dusted his robes off to roll his eyes. As Madam Hooch called the game, the Slytherin team met up on the even field, being quite dissatisfied with the outcome. Sweating, you all went into the tents to cool down and get a sip of water. Marcus Flint seemed to be pissed at Draco Malfoy for missing his chance. Suddenly you saw that Draco pointed towards you and Marcus’s face stiffened.

”L/N, you didn’t tell Draco to catch the snitch earlier huh?” He crossed his arms as you held your arms up in surrender.

”It’s not my job to find the snitch okay? I’m beater for a reason,” You claimed, and took another chug out of your water, “But whatever you say.”

He grunted and walked away from you, careful not to be messed with. You sighed and knew this was another game you have lost to for the hundredth time these years. Later, you heard a voice whisper behind you and it was quite unfamiliar, it was Fred Weasley. “Come here!”

You rolled your eyes and turned away to face your back on him, minding your own business.

”Princess, I need to talk to you!” He whispered more louder behind the curtains of the tent, “It’s urgent.”

”Urgent how?” You mumbled, waving a hand over your face to cool down after the hot game, “Anyways I won’t bother to move.” After, you felt a hand harshly tug you out of the tent, tripping onto the grass, “Bloody hell Weasley!”

Fred laughs and holds his hand out to help you get up, “I see you know my name.”

You decline his offer of getting you up to your feet and did it yourself, fixing your green quidditch robes and looking up at him, “Of course I do. Now what do you want now?”

”Youre trying to play hard to get huh?” He laughs, leaning over closer to you, “What a pretty girl.”

As he leans closer to you, you press your finger against his lip, and pushing him away from your face, “Hm, well too bad because you’re not going to get someone like me.”

”Ahh..... now I get why you’re in Slytherin,” He continues to joke and turns to you, “Guess I was right, you were going to loose.”

“It doesn’t matter it’s Malfoy’s fault!”

You were about to throw a fit and vent to him about everything but you don’t even talk to him or worse, trust him yet. He steadied you and watched you, “Relax, I was kidding, you play really great as a beater, but not as good as me of course.”

”Funny,” You groaned and were about to walk away, “Well, it’s been fun talking to you I think I should get going-“

Again, you felt his arm wind up on you, placing it on your shoulder, “Not so fast gorgeous.”

”Stop calling me that,” You say, with a pink face, “It’s not funny.”

”Oh it is funny to see little L/N flustered.” Fred lowers down onto your level of height, cupping your face, “In fact, it’s very true.”

”Excuse me-“

“You’re pretty, like really pretty,” He interrupts you while leaning on closer to your face, “The most beautiful woman that I have seen.”

”Fred, I hope you’re on armontentica,” You shook your head until there was a sudden urge for you to kiss him with the tension driving you insane. Pulling him in and giving a jokingly light kiss at the beginning, but as you were pulling away to go back and pretend that it never happened, Fred deepened the kiss to hold you back. The kiss was very firm but it was romantic, you could feel his sweaty body leaning into yours, pressing himself against you. As you two continue to share more kisses, you brought your hands to intertwine with his ginger hair. Kissing even more and more, you heard another voice that was similar to Fred’s. It must be George, you thought.

”Fred! I see you won the bet but I’m going to pretend the Y/N doesn’t have an interest in you,” George snickers and crosses his arms, “Or do you?”

You two pulled away to watch George talking to you, as you had no idea what to answer. I mean, you had a crush on George but that went away as soon as the prank that embarrassed you happened. You glanced at George and then Fred, then smiled wide at him while slipping your hand into Fred’s, “Oh yes I do.”

#Harry Potter #Fandom oneshot #Harry Potter oneshots #Fred Weasley x reader #Fred Weasley x you #Fred Weasley oneshot #George Weasley #Draco Malfoy #Slytherin #Gryffindor #Hufflepuff #Hermione Granger #Ron Weasley #Weasley Twins #Fluff #Flirying #Romance? #Quidditch #Dumbledore #Oliver Wood #Snape #James Potter #Wizarding World

[lorei-writes]

Sugary Sweet

Theodorus van Gogh x Reader Christmas Fluff

I lost a bet to @nad-zeta, so to say. As such, a certain kind of sugar was conjured by my hands. I hope it’s enjoyable and not too OOC! 

*may contain some inside jokes

Content Warnings: none

The world was quiet, save for the crunch of frost below your feet – and a faint hum, Theodorus reaching to entwine his fingers with yours.

“Are you very cold?” he asked. Seemingly trying to focus, as not to let the both of you slip on the icy pavement, he guided your joined hands into the pocket of his coat.

“No, not yet.”

“I told you I could have gone for it myself.”

“As if I could!” 

Fresh snow dusted the streets, dim lights of the lanterns dispersing and bending over the falling snowflakes. Carried through the air, they whirled, as if invisible currents prompted them to dance – and dance they did, splitting into new formations at every corner, rising in pirouettes just to bestow cool blessings upon unsuspecting victims daring to cross through their stage while the spectacle still lasted.

You didn’t seem to mind, however, white powder having already claimed your shoulders and hair, your nose glowing in red from the cold. Your breath turning to mist, you blew into your hands, hot air seeping through fabric of your gloves. The world was quiet, save for the crunch of frost below your feet – and a faint hum, Theodorus reaching to entwine his fingers with yours.

“Are you very cold?” he asked. Seemingly trying to focus, as not to let the both of you slip on the icy pavement, he guided your joined hands into the pocket of his coat.

“No, not yet.”

“I told you I could have gone for it myself.”

“As if I could!” you exclaimed in reply, your smile shining brightly. “It wouldn’t be the same if I let you do that.”

Theo shook his head in response, his grip over the rope attached to the small sled behind you tightening for a moment. Seemingly agreeing, the pine tree over it shook from side to side, cold wind speeding past you.

Warmth pricked your skin, but your body welcomed it nonetheless, joyous jingle of the bells mixed with muffled groans causing you to snicker. Without further ado, you hurried to the living room, your lover struggling to position the tree properly, the stump refusing to be put into the holder.

“Help,” he let out, branches pushing him away, appearing to be unwelcoming of his advances. Bells  jingled again – hiding your amusement, you crouched on the floor. Your hands holding the bark, you guided it in place, soon tightening the screws into it as make sure it’d stand up properly. Pine needles sticking out of his hair, Theo emerged from behind the tree, a jingle following his every step. He caught your glance.

“And you dare to call my fashion sense terrible?” he mused, a hint of annoyance showing in his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose, the movement of his arm being enough to activate lines of tiny bells littering the top of his sweater – the very sweater you gifted to him, overwhelmingly excited reindeer staring at you from it, red pom-pom blooming in place of his nose. Perhaps you did not plan to torment Theo with it so much, yet when the opportunity arose, you couldn’t help yourself, even if only this once.

“Don’t you know? With Christmas sweaters it’s the uglier, the better. You may even call it a fresh outlook on art,” you noted and scratched your chin, purposefully avoiding meeting his eyes. “Oh, I forgot to bring the ornaments. I’ll go fetch them!”

You dashed out of the room swiftly, avoiding the arm that reached to grab you.

Lights shone over the tree, glass balls adorning branches alongside wooden figurines, presents, reindeers and stars shyly peaking from between the greenery. Only the final touches remaining, you climbed onto the ladder one last time, reaching in anticipation for a package of hard candy icicles.

Without thinking of it twice, you unwrapped the colourful foil and put it inside your mouth, a pleasant hum slipping past the border of your lips. However, you remained cautious, knowing all to well your tree may be candyless if you let your guard down – rightfully so, a hand greedy of sweets reaching for your icicles. You swatted it away.

“Magical word,” you hissed, your treasure being at risk.

“Woof,” Theo snorted out, the exchange having grown to be an almost daily occurrence by then.

“Woof?”

“Woof woof. Do you want me to howl this time or what?”

He asked for it. You nodded – although you almost regretted it, the sight of your lover attempting to call to the moon being a rather unexpected one, even if precious. Seemingly feeling shy, no sweets being granted to him, Theo turned his gaze away.

“Hey, stop laughing and put the damn topper on the tree already,” he barked out in an attempt to change the topic.

You let your teasing go a little further. Swiftly, you jumped off the ladder and ran into the hallway, grabbing his much dreaded hat from the rack. You returned to the room promptly – and much to his surprise, you tossed it at the tree, the garment falling perfectly at the very top of it.

“Here!” you laughed, part of the candy icicle still sticking out of your mouth.

He had enough. You couldn’t run away – you had no chance. His arms snaked around you as Theo pulled you into a hug, your sweets being stolen away from you as he broke the end off and ate it himself. Still stunned, you did not expect the kiss, much less the somewhat cold fingers that snuck beneath your shirt to tickle you. Laughing, you squirmed, all your escape attempts being futile at best. Theo picked you up and threw you over his shoulder – and for a moment, you saw a wide grin flashing over his face.

“Now, be good and tell me, where do we have ribbons? I need to put one on you. You will be my present this year, won’t you?”

Tag list: @datenoriko​, @nad-zeta​, @tsubaki3192, @jiyuu-chan, @missjudge-me, @ikemencrossedmyth​, @plumpblueberry , @nimeryaa, @nuttytani, @thesirenwashere, @milas-imaginarium, @kisara-16, @yukas-clover, @alerialumina , @cheese-ception , @iamryxx

If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)! ^^ Also, if you have some preferences (for example: you’d rather not be tagged under some series, etc.), please, tell me. 

If you don’t want to be tagged anymore - please, do not feel bad about it, just say so :)

#theodorus van gogh #ikevamp theodorus #ikevamp theo #ikemen vampire theodorus #ikemen vampire theo #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #theodorkus? #oh my I really do hope its okay

[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T. Shelby Imagine Ch. 11

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

Fandom: Peaky Blinders 

Word Count: 8,081 

WARNINGS: Angst, Alcohol Consumption, Cursing, Brief Mention of Intimate Situations (smut HINTED, like joke about), Sexual Harassment

Summary: It’s a few weeks after the season 1 finale, Aliena finds herself lost within the family dynamic and her place in the their world. She’s no longer a nanny to John’s kids, Finn is rebelling against school work, and she finds herself done with her cleaning- fairly quickly. How will she deal with this restlessness? How will she cope in a world that’s not her own?

MASTERLIST  CHAPTER 10  CHAPTER 12

A/N: This chapter doesn’t have a lot of Tommy in it. This is the beginning of Aliena’s detachment from the Shelby Family. Thomas will be mentioned frequently, but he most likely have the bare minimum of involvement. 

It’s been abar two weeks since Tom killed Billy Kimber. Everything is...different. I can’t put it into words. Me place within the family is undefined. Since John’s married, I’m no longer needed to take care of the kids. Now, I knew this but he and Esme made it official. 

I wasn’t to be ‘round unless they called. 

I understood. I mean Esme is a new wife and they are in their honeymoon stage. Going at it like rabbits. I felt bad for the kids. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I only see them when they come ‘round the house.

Luckily, they are warming up to Esme. There wasn’t any bad blood in the first place, but— you just never know when a new wife comes into the picture. 

I was still teaching Finn, but since I didn’t have any other students, I was really grilling into him. He’s beginning to hate school even more. It’s just that I practically have nothing to do!

I don’t have to clean two places anymore. I just clean the main house and I kept on top of me tasks all the time, so that means I practically don’t have anything to do! That’s where Finn comes in. I assigned him more homework and reading, but he doesn’t want anything to do with it.

Especially after doing Kimber over, the boy idolizes Tom too much. 

So, here I am at me special place just relaxing. Letting the wind go through me hair was always welcomed. I was just swinging and adamantly trying not to think. I took in me surroundings. But, that soon came to an end when I started to get nauseous.

I put me feet down and stopped. I didn’t get up, though. I just sat there, silently. I reach down and started running me hands through the tips of the grass. I sang to meself “I just want to be the one you love.” I sang ‘til even that gave me a headache. 

I sighed and stopped singing. I sat up straight and hopped off the swing. I took two steps back and just appreciated the nice breeze. I tucked a piece of hair that was in me face and started walking back home. 

It didn’t feel nice walking by meself for so long. I mean it was nice at first, but then I started getting paranoid. Worried that I would just get pinched off the side of the road. Only when me feet hit the familiar cobblestone, did I feel safe. 

Safe under the Peaky Blinders’ protection. What if I’m no longer needed? Do they just give me money and send me on me way? Do I just go and mooch off of Cassie? I mean, technically, didn’t they have that right?

I stopped walking and took the time to massage me temples.

“Are you all right, love?” asked a concerned woman.

I picked up me head and put on a smile. It was fake, of course, but polite. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” 

We exchanged smiles and nods and I went on me way. The second I wasn’t facing her, me smile fell. I was starting to feel lethargic again. That was also a bad sign. 

By the time I reached the front door, I was feeling a lot of things at once. I was annoyed, tired, hungry, and lost. I sighed again while opening the door. It was probably abar six in the evening. I took the pins out of me hat and hung it up. Then, I had to put those same pins in me mouth as I took off me coat. I hung that up as well. 

I took those pins from me mouth and placed them in a pocket in me skirt. I dusted off me hands and walked into the kitchen. I was gonna start making dinner. Decided shepherd's pie would do everyone some good. 

As I was cooking Arthur came in. How did I know it was him, you ask? He brings along the stench of sweat and booze, of course. 

“Whatcha cookin’ there, Ali?” Arthur asked before he took a seat down at the table. He took off his cap and smooth down his hair.

I smiled. “I’m cooking some shepherd’s pie.”

“Ah, thank fuck! When’s it gonna be ready?” 

I shrugged. “Not long now. Are you gonna stay or do I need to hound you down like the rest of your family?”

He sniffed. “Nah, I’ll be in me office.” The chair scraped against the floor as he got up, and then he left the room.

I turned back ‘round and grumbled to meself, “So, I’m chasing ya down like the rest of them.” I took a step back and leaned on the table. I rubbed me forehead and exhaled audibly. Eventually, I sat down ‘til the scran was ready. 

I got three plates, put two forks in me pocket, and cut out three slices for the family members I knew where in the shop. I took only two, though. Using me bum, I opened the doors to the shop and heard the bustling of men.

Not men looking to lay bets, but employees shifting to count up bets and such. I walked past them all. Esme was sitting at a desk as was Polly. I walked up to Polly.

“Dinner, Pol.” I said, rather monotone. 

She looked up at me ‘n smiled. “Thank you, love. Leave it there.”

I nodded and set it down at the edge of her desk. As I took a fork out of me pocket, I asked. “Happen to know where Tommy is?” I set it on the plate.

She picked up her head again, but was gazing somewhere else in thought. Her finger pressed against her lip. “I think he’s doing some business. Talking up plans with the architect that’s designing the company headquarters. Better leave him a slice for him to get on his own. Don’t go chasing him at this time of night.”

I nodded and walked over to Arthur’s office while placing a fork on his plate. I knocked and he told me to come in.

“Here ya are!” I said as I placed his food beside him.

 He made some breathy noise of excitement before saying, “About damn time. I was about to chew me arm and leg off. Thanks, Ali.”

A quick smile flashed on me face and I said, “Your welcome” before leaving. It turns out I had another slice to cut. So, I served John and Esme some dinner. Finn was out and abar. Polly said to just let him be. That he was being a child, so I just ate by meself at the kitchen table. 

While I was eating, the phone was ringing off the hook. I rushed to it and answered. 

“Hello, this is 6 Watery Lane?”

“A call from suite 226 at the Ritz Hotel. A Ms. Cassiopeia Johnson for Ms. Aliena Welsh. Do you accept?”

“Yes, I accept.”

“Connecting you now.”

I sighed and twirled me finger ‘round to wire.

“Ali! Are you free tonight?” Cassie shouted through the phone.

I clutched me forehead. “Yeah and every other night. Why?”

“Feel like going to a party?”

Me eyes widened and anxiety shot through me body. I looked ‘round as if I was going to get in trouble for ‘aving this conversation.

“I- uh. I’m not sure, Cass.”

She groaned exaggeratedly. “Come on, Aliena. You said it yourself, you have nights off now. So, let’s go to a party.”

I scoffed. “What kind of party?”

“Don’t worry! It’s casual. The girls and I are going down to the London clubs, and we wanted you to come. So, don’t wear any of those extravagant dresses Angie bought you. Wear something you can sweat in.”

I rolled me eyes while wearing a smirk. “Cass, you and me have different definitions of clothes we can sweat in, but yeah— I get your meaning. Okay, let me just make sure, okay? Stay on the phone.”

“Okay, hurry up.”

I left the phone off the hook and sped walked back into the shop. I walked up to Polly.

“Hey, Polly. Is it alright if I go out?”

Her head snapped up and her face contorted in confusion. “Go out? With who?”

“Me friends. Cassie, Angie, Tina. I’ve told ya abar them before.”

Her eyes darted from side to side then she nodded. “All right. Before careful, love, all right. Don’t be out too late. You get into any trouble call Tommy or the house. Be safe.” She stood up, smooth me hair down, and kissed me cheek.

I couldn’t help the grin on me face as I thanked her and ran back to the phone. 

“She said yes! I’m gonna go get ready.”

Cassie squealed into the phone. “Yay! We are going to have so much fun!” 

I hung up the phone and raced into me room. I slammed the door behind me and threw open me closet. I took out any “party” dresses that I had hung up. 

I wanted to look absolutely breathtaking.

Between abar five different dresses, I decided on a navy blue dress. Your typical 1920’s design. 

I quickly threw off me previous clothes and even me undergarments. I went to me drawers and found black stockings and a garter belt to match. I had to go through a different drawer to get a black bra. When I finished putting those on, I scrambled to stand in front of me mirror. 

I had to back up a lot to see me whole body in it. I stared for a while. Looking for imperfections. I turned to me side and pinched me stomach. I had a little bump, but I didn’t find meself demeaning meself as usual. I felt...sexy.

I squealed at meself and bent over into meself. Me hair flying as I did so. After I had me little moment, I stood back up, me hair flipping back, and kept me hand over me mouth. I dropped it and went to put on the dress.

Once I had it on, I sat at me desk in front of me mirror and began to do me makeup. I went more for a blue smokey eye to match me dress.  I didn’t add any contour or blush, but I added highlight and a pink nude lip. I blew meself a kiss and got up. I walked back to me closet and bent down to open the drawer at the bottom. 

I picked out me black purse. I opened its doors and took out me four-inch black heels. I put them on and hiked the purse up me shoulder. Then, I was stuck waiting for Cassie’s honk.

As I waited, I kept brushing out me hair. I knew I would look like the odd women out with hair as long as mine, but I didn’t care. I liked how I looked. With me finger, I touched up me lipstick slightly when I heard that infamous honking.

A shit-eating grin spread across me face and I raced out the door. When I made it out the door, Cassie was standing there waiting for me.

We shrieked when we saw each other and ran into each other’s arms. We laughed as we swayed each other. 

“Oooh, I’m so glad you decided to come.” Cassie sighed and pushed me back a little while maintaining our hug. “Look at you! Oh, Angie, Tina! Look at our baby. All grown up.”

She used me shoulders to guide me in front of the car. Angie clapped before bringing her hands over her mouth. Tina was just all smiles. 

I was so hyped up that I couldn’t stop the ugly smile on me face. While fanning meself, I begged. “Guys, stop! Let’s just get this show on the road!”

I climbed into the car and Cassie followed suit.

Their hands were all over trying to inspect all of me outfit. I fought off their hands, eventually.

“Okay, okay, enough! Which club are we going to?”

Cassie looked at Angie as did Tina. Angie made eye contact with the both of them before she bugged out her eyes.

“What?” She shouted then sighed, defeatedly. “I mean, we can start with the one we frequent the most. It’s real nice there. Shiny.” Angie said that last part in a childish voice while looking at me.

I glared at her before grumbling, “Shut it.”

I may have disclosed me affliction for shiny things. 

The rest of the ride was filled with mindless chatter. Just catching up with what has happened in our lives. 

Tina shuffled over to me eventually and took me hand in hers. She was playing with me nails. 

“How are things with you and Thomas?” She asked me softly. Her eyes flicked up to mine before looking back at me nails.

I hummed while sighing deeply. “Well, we’re not the same. He’s just so much busier now. It’s a win in itself that we’re not at odds with each other, but I wish it was like before Grace. We were so close. Well, I was closer to him than he was with any of his family members.” I leaned closer to her ear and whispered. “We slept in the same bed for Christ’s sake.” 

She gasped while looking into me eyes, horrified.

I knew she wasn’t gonna take it well. I gave her a sheepish smile. “It was nothing indecent. I swear! Thomas has trouble sleeping because of the war. I put him to sleep while talking to him and sometimes he would talk to me too.” I looked off thinking abar all the moments we shared.

Tina said nothing for a while ‘til she asked. “So, are you two in a good place or not?”

I rolled me eyes. “If you’re looking for a direct answer then, yes. Yes, we’re in a good place.”

Her cheeks turned red and she gave me a sheepish smile. I softly scoffed. 

The car stopped and we all hopped off. I followed them as they walked into the club. The doormen greeted them and opened the door for us. 

Angie clapped her hands and turned toward me. “What are you drinking?” She asked me.

I shrugged me shoulders. “I’ll drink whatever youse drink.” 

She rolled her eyes before she turned back ‘round and toward the bar. I mocked her expression as she walked away. Cassie linked me arms with hers and began to lead me to a table.

We sat down and I set down me purse. Cassie did the same, but dug through her purse for a ciggie. She propositioned me for one and I took one.

“Wow! Look at you!” Cassie said with her jaw dropped, a smile fighting for its place. “Just going all out tonight, are you?” She then cackled to herself.

I giggled at her as I held the stick between me teeth. I fished through me purse and found me lighter. I’m not familiar with the types of lighters, but if I had to describe this one— it would be a lift arm. I think it was anyway. There was a time where I did research types of lighters for a story, but I wasn’t expecting to remember on the fly.

Oh, how I miss the internet!

I flicked the wheel and inhaled. I pushed the arm back down, snuffing out the flame then tossed it on the table. I took the ciggie from me lips and let out the smoke.

“So,” I began to ask. “What do you guys usually do?” I looked ‘round saw people dancing, talking. The room was super loud. I was, in a way, used to it, but it hurt me ears at the same time.

The dances were so old, to me. They danced like animals, but I saw a couple of tangos. Some were doing the Charleston. 

I would never experience modern clubs. Grinding against strangers and jumping like nobody was watching. Loud music pumping through speakers. Hell, club music! Electronic music, or for Christ’s sake— music with words! I would never get to listen to the music that got me blood pumping and made me feel like the most attractive woman in the room. 

Cassie chuckled before she puffed out a cloud of smoke. “Well, first, we have a drink or two. To take off the edge, then we dance.”

I looked over at Tina who nodded and smiled. I scoffed playfully before blowing raspberries. Angie came over, a bottle and drinks in hand, and a ciggie hanging off her lips. Tina shot up from her seat and rushed to help her. 

Cassie and I sneak a glance at each other. Though, in all honesty, the interaction was innocent. They distributed the drinks and I instantly went to drink when me hand was smack.

Angie had her eyebrows furrowed at me in a glare. I looked back at her confused.

“Let’s make a toast.” She announced over the blaring jazz music. “A toast for Aliena’s first outing!”

Everyone made mischievous smiles at me, I returned it with a mocking one as I tilted me head from side to side. 

Cassie giggled. “May she drunkenly hook up with a stranger and forget all about Mr. Thomas Shelby.”

While I didn’t want Cassie’s toast to come true, exactly, I still clinked glasses with the lot of them. We, collectively, tipped our heads back and downed our glasses. 

I groaned at the taste as did Tina. Angie and Cassie both whooped in excitement.

“More! More!” Cassie chanted as she grabbed the bottle and starting pouring us another round. 

I took another puff of me ciggie. I could see I didn’t have many left. Left it burning for too long. I shrugged me shoulders as I took another inhale. I could always bum one off of them. 

Two more glasses later, I was dragged to the dance floor by Cassie. I tried begging her to let me go, but she wouldn’t. I tried telling her that all I knew how to do was sway, but she said that she would teach me.

And, boy, did she try! 

I swear I was getting it all wrong, but she was swearing that I was doing great.

Our hands were entwined and I shouted. “I’m not doing it right, Cassie!”

She shook her head as she brought me in so close that our lips were practically touching. “You’re dancing better than me. Stop thinking about it, Ali. Let yourself go.”

I wanted to. I really wanted to, but how could I lose meself to jazz music! How was I supposed to lose meself to jazz music?

I cringed. I literally cringed. I took a deep breath and cradled me forehead. “Cass,” I shouted. “Let’s get a drink, yeah?”

She pouted and her face contorted in frustration, but she followed me back to the table nonetheless. At said table, was Angie and Tina along with two new gentlemen friends. Angie looked like she was having a good time while Tina— not so much.

Angie noticed us first. “You guys are back already?” She asked.

Cassie nodded. “Yeah. Aliena wanted another drink.” Her tone, somewhat snappy.

I resisted the urge to roll me eyes as I grabbed the bottle and poured meself a glass.

I heard one of the men clear their throat. Angie sighed before announcing their presence. I gave them each a polite smile and nodded. I didn’t acknowledge them. They weren’t me type anyhow. 

I tipped back abar two more drinks before I tapped Cassie’s shoulder and nodded back to the dance floor. Her face lit up in glee as she took me head and we ran to the dance floor. 

I felt the booze lower me inhibitions. I listened to her words and let meself go. I was in a mix between the music in me head and the music that thundered in the club. I was in a mix between the dances Cassie taught me and the dances I knew from back home.

I ran me fingers through me hair and kept them as I swayed me waist. I let me hands roam me body as I did a body roll. I swayed me hips from side to side. I let me eyes flutter close and I embraced the music in me head.

I only stopped when I felt someone’s hand creep on me shoulder. I twirled ‘round to face the man who dared lay a hand on me. 

He smirked and shouted. “Mind, if I joined you?”

I looked at him up and down then scoffed. “Fuck off!”

His eyes widened and he left. I watched him leave. I walked closer to Cassie and pulled her to me. She giggled and then I turned ‘round. I grabbed her hands and made them roam me body as I grinded into her. 

Eventually, she got into the groove of it. 

“Men are looking at us.” She whispered in me ear.

I smirked and reopened me eyes. I titled me head back and whispered into her ear. “Let them.”

We danced for a little while more. I could see and feel all of these eyes on us. I felt so ethereal yet scared at the same time. All it took was one macho man. One macho man to try and demand that either us are entitled to give him a dance. 

So, with thought like that plaguing me mind— I stopped dancing and pulled Cassie back to the table. 

I hadn’t even noticed that women were glaring at us as well ‘til we were walking back to our table. 

We sat down while panting. I felt so hot. Angie chuckled at the sight of us.

“Where’s tweedle dee and dum?” I asked as I pinched a ciggie from one of their cases.

Angie scoffed. “Hopefully somewhere else. Fucking pricks!”

I inhaled as I lit it up. I knocked down the arm as I asked. “The fuck happened?”

Angie’s eyes darted to Tina’s, who was looking down at the table.

Tina sat up straighter and I could see her gulp. Her eyes kept shifting to me from the table. “The bastard put his hand up me dress.”

I felt rage surge me. I held me ciggie between two fingers as I shot up. Me hands slammed on the table. “Where’s the fucking bastard? I fuckin’ kill ‘em.”

Angie scoffed. “Calm down, Aliena. Already embarrassed them as much as I could.”

I looked over at Angie and gave her a satisfied smile. If it was Angie, then yeah— she made them wish they’d never been born.

Cassie stroked Tina’s arm before saying, “How about you and Angie go and have your turn on the dance floor. Ali and I will hold down the fort.”

Angie looked at Tina who just nodded. They got up from their chairs and walked onto the dance floor. I exhaled smoke through me nose and looked over at Cassie.

She smiled at me. “What was that? On the floor.” 

I smirked. “I let myself go.”

She giggled while tipping her head back. “Now, if Mr. Thomas Shelby knew you could dance like that. I bet he would be the one on his knees for ya. Not the other way around.”

I chortled at that. The bad thing that once she said it, I could imagine it. I could see Thomas Shelby on all fours for me as I sat in his chair at his future office with me legs wide open. But the thing is, I didn’t want to be the one in control. It’s just a personal preference.

Cassie slid a glass to me and I happily took a drink. I tsked after. 

Cassie was staring at me with this questionable look in eyes.

“What?” I asked with a giggle.

She squinted before sighing. “Why won’t you make the first move? You’re about to turn 18 and that woman isn’t in the picture anymore. Why not just,” She began to flail her hands ‘round herself. “Make the first move!”

I glanced away as I thought abar how to answer her. I sat up straighter and rested me back against the chair. “I won’t ever make the first move because I’m afraid of rejection. I’ve been rejected by all the males in my life that I have asked out. In my mind, I can’t convince myself that he will be different. Why? Because I’m shielding myself from feeling that embarrassment and sadness that would come from a rejection. 

Plus, like you said. Grace isn’t in the picture anymore, but that was like two weeks ago, Cassie! If he accepted me right now, I wouldn’t be able to perceive that other than him using me to be his rebound.”

I took the ciggie from me lips and titled me head back as I exhaled. Then, I picked up me glass and downed it. 

Cassie tapped the table with her fingernail before sighing and looking away. I started bobbing me head to enjoy meself. Cassie’s face contorted into something devilish. I squinted me eyes in suspicion.

“What’re you looking at?” I turned ‘round and saw two men sitting at the bar. Me eyes widened and I just zipped back ‘round. I shook me head. “You better not even-!”

It was too late as I saw the shit-eating grin on her face as she looked at me. I blew raspberries while rolling me eyes. 

His name was Christian and he was an accountant. He was attractive, for sure. But, we weren’t hitting it off like that. I pretended to be engaged, but anything he was saying was going in one ear and out the other. 

I nursed me bevvy as I dragged me fingertip along the rim of the glass. When I picked up me head ‘n saw Angie and Tina walking back with more than a pep in their step, I swear I thanked God.

“Hey!” I shouted while effectively cutting off the dude. “How was it? Your feets aching yet?”

Angie scoffed before her tipped toward Christian. She stared at him even harder while arching her neck forward. “Can you get up? You see women coming back from the dance floor and you don’t give your seat up! What kind of man are you?”

I looked away as I slapped me hand over me mouth. The guy stuttered and scrambled out of the chair. Angie just held up her hand and began collecting her stuff.

“I, for one, am tired of this place. Let’s go, girls.” Angie announced. 

‘Say less.’ I thought.

I already had me stuff in me purse, so I got up and shuffled toward Tina. I stroked her arm and asked. “Are you alright, hun?”

She nodded while hiking up her purse on her shoulder. “Just want to get out of here. Too many eyes.” 

I looked ‘round and sure enough, she was right. Some men had the balls to keep on looking. I rolled me eyes as it contorted in disgust. 

“Yeah, we’ll leave soon.”

Cassie flirted with that guy ‘til we left. She groaned exaggeratedly as she raked her fingers through her hair. “What the fuck, guys? I was still talking to him.”

I scoffed. “Don’t worry, Cass. I’m sure you’ll find someone else to satisfy you at the next bar.”

Angie nodded. “Yep. Looks like scum raided that bar tonight.”

By the end of the night, I was a fucking mess. I was stumbling ‘round and me speech was slurred. I was conscious of everything. I felt like it anyway, but something was telling me that I would forget bits and pieces in the morning. 

Oh! Cassie did indeed get her scratch itched. She had sex in the restroom. We cheered and laughed at her for it. Turns out that Tina and I were more alike than I originally thought. Though, I believe the reason for that was because neither of us were on the prowl. Angie and Cass, on the other hand, were.

So, right now, Cass was giving me a ride back home. 

I stuck me head out of the car and let the wind whip through me hair. I howled while extending me arm out. I could hear giggles in the car. When I felt content, I went back into the car. I draped over Angie and rested me head on her shoulder. I was sitting on me knees, so it worked. 

I smiled, drunkenly. Angie stroked me face and whispered. “You are so beautiful. Like so beautiful. It kills me that you’re stuck in that dump of a home. If you were born into me own world, you’d be sought out by all the lords and their sons.”

I psh-ed her words while hiding me face in her arm. “Why, thank you! I think you’re quite stunning yourself.”

“Marry rich, Aliena. So, we can see each other all the time.”

We stared into each other’s eyes for a while. ‘Til I broke it by smiling and cackling. She joined in on me laughter. 

The car had to stop eventually and when it did— they wouldn’t let me go! 

I let all me weight go as I tried to get out of their grasps. “Let me go, you wenches!”

Cassie aw-ed. “Stay with us, Ali. Just come back into the car and sleep over!”

Tina, who was very fucking bladdered, chimed in. “Yeah, stay with us, Ali!”

I giggled while tipping me head back. “No!” I shouted. “I have work tomorrow!” 

Their grip on me, eventually, loosened and I fell back on me arse. I laughed and moaned from the pain as me hand sluggishly went to soothe the pain. They laughed while crashing into each other.

“Fuck off ‘n go home!” I shouted while waving them off.

With ungraceful movements, Angie closed the car door as the other two fell back into the car. I stumbled to get back on me feet and opened the door. 

I sighed and looked ‘round. It was fucking dark and nobody was there. I didn’t take a coat, so I just hung up me purse. I tried to bend over and take off me heels, but I ended up leaning forward ‘n had to catch meself.

I giggled at me actions. Then, I heaved a big sigh and raised a fist to me forehead as I winced in discomfort. I crashed into the wall on me left and debated whether or not I wanted to go into the kitchen for water ‘n bread.

I burped loudly which caused me hand to fly over me mouth and then I chuckled. But, then that feeling contorted into something bad. I ran over to the sink and held me hair back as I vomited into the sink. 

I coughed and gathered all the spit in me mouth and spat it out a couple of times. I groaned as I slumped to the side. 

I’m so fucking tired!

I coughed a few more times as I turned on the faucet. I let the water wash away me vomit and I scooped some water to wash away the taste in me mouth. When I was done, I stumbled back into the living room and threw meself on the couch. 

I got comfortable and fell asleep.

“For fuck’s sake, Aliena.” I heard someone say. I groaned and refrained from opening me eyes. I didn’t want to fucking wake up right now!

Then, I felt someone pick at the hem of me dress and suddenly, me lower half was warmer. Not a second later, arms were under me knees and neck. I furrowed me eyebrows and whined in annoyance. 

They started shushing me ‘n telling me to go back to sleep. However, against their wishes— me eyes fluttered open. It was Tommy. I couldn’t stop the smile on me face from happening and as I attempted to snuggle into his chest.

“Warm.” I muttered.

He shushed me again and repeated himself.

I could feel the both of us jolt as he walked upstairs. I tried falling back to sleep, but felt like that wasn’t becoming a possibility.

Slowly, with me hand, I hovered it over his cheekbone. He looked down at me. I stared into his eyes and whispered. “So pretty.” His facial expression didn’t change. 

He just repeated himself yet again before he began to walk again. I let me hand drop and I closed me eyes. I tried focusing on the sound of his breath and the way his chest rose and fell.

I let him lay me in bed and tuck me in. As he turned ‘round to leave, I shot me hand out and grasped his wrist. “Stay with me?” I asked. 

Tommy looked down at me hand and slowly, he backtracked and sat down next to me. A grin broke out on me face. I tried getting comfortable all while trying to cuddle with him, but it was too awkward since all I would be doing is putting me face near his arse. 

Tommy cleared his throat then said something. Me eyes fluttered open and I hummed questioningly.

“Move over.” He repeated. And so, I did. 

Tommy laid down next to me and I, immediately, cuddled into his side. I didn’t even give him time to properly lay his arm ‘round me shoulders. I just sought out to comfort of his scent and warmth.

I felt his torso shake with laughter, but no sound came out.

“Now, go back to sleep, Ali.”

I was able to follow through on that order that time.

 When I woke up, me head was pounding, there was this god awful taste in me mouth, and I had light sensitivity. I groaned and held me head as I slowly got up. I held me head up as me elbows rested on me knees. 

Then, I looked to me side. There was a note on me nightstand. I grabbed it and read it.

‘Take it easy today. - Thomas’

I rolled me eyes, but I was actually brimming with happiness on the inside.

‘So, that wasn’t a dream.’ I thought.

I got to me feet and worked on getting dressed for the day. I settled for a fuzzy, grey long-sleeved shirt, a blue pleated skirt, and stockings. These ones went all the way up to me waist. When I was done, I trudged over to me desk and worked on getting last night’s makeup off.

I’m such a better beaut! I had to use so many cotton balls and wipes. I sighed as I covered me face with me hands. I spread me hands and looked at meself in the mirror. I stretched down me face before letting it go. I let me left arm fall and I laid me head down on it.

I desperately did not want to go downstairs. But, I have a fucking job to do! I whimpered before getting up and slipping on boots. After that, I made me way downstairs. 

As I turned into the kitchen, I should have known Polly would have been there. Sipping away at her mornin’ cuppa tea. She looked at me through hooded eyes. I looked away before looking back at her.

She set her cup down and leaned forward in her seat. “Well, aren’t you going to tell me how your night was?”

The only thought that went through me mind was, ‘Thank fuck!’

For several nights in a row, me nights have been nothing but partying. I’ve been getting up with a hangover from the night before, finishing me duties, making dinner, eating dinner, getting ready to go out, and then Cassie would pick me up.

When I left, I would drink so much that anything would fly out of me mouth as slurs and I was stumbling into people. Then, I would be dropped off home and luckily, I have been making it to me room. Oh, but first. I would vomit in the sink, or eat bread and drink water. So far it’s been a 50/50 chance for either.

Right now, I was dancing with a bottle in me hand by meself. Being drunk and dancing was freeing. I wasn’t thinking for once and I was just letting go. I didn’t have to worry abar who I was within the Shelby clan. I wasn’t overthinking every interaction I had with everybody I came across. I wasn’t obsessing over Thomas fucking Shelby.

I brought the bottle to me lips and took a swig. Cassie looked over at me and stumbled toward me, and I did the same. With me free hand, I cradled the back of her head and brought her forehead to meet mine.

“Are you having fun?” She asked me over the blaring music.

I nodded while gigglin’. “Yeah, what about you?”

She nodded too before stealing me bottle away. I protested and reached for it, but she stomped away. She couldn’t exactly manage a run, right now. I spluttered at the sight. When I stood up straight, I felt someone place their hands on me hips.

I didn't have to look behind meself to know it was some fella.

“Want some company, love?” He asked me.

I pondered it for a while before I decided on me answer. “I’m only lookin’ to dance. You got that?”

As he chuckled, I could feel his chest vibrate. “Sure, love.”

I rolled me eyes and started to dance to me own music. When I felt something hard press up against me arse, I pushed him away and started walking away. He tugged me back.

“Oi, slag. Finish what you started.” He shouted in me face.

I scoffed before stomping on his foot and kneeing his crotch. “You have a hand, use it!” I yelled as he doubled over. I shoved him to the ground and walked away. 

I was instantly smothered by hands. 

“Oh my god! I can’t believe you just did that! You just did that!” Angie exclaimed.

“That was so fucking awesome. Look at you, bad-ass!” Cassie shouted.

Tina just had this big-arse smile on her face. 

I laughed while shaking me head. “I’m glad youse enjoyed it, but unless he came here alone— we need to leave.”

We shuffled to our table, got our stuff and left. The night breeze whipped through our hair. I was falling into Cassie and Tina as we walked side by side. 

I groaned exaggeratedly before shouting, “Should we just go to the flat? De’ fuckin’ weirdos are out tonight!”

Cassie cackled. “Maybe it’s because your dancing is driving men wild.”

I scoffed while pivoting me hip toward her. “I don’t give a fuck abar what they see. I’m not there to satisfy them. I’m ‘aving a fuckin’ dance.”

“So, you won’t make the first move, but you don’t want men to make the first move on you either… How does that work?” Tina quipped.

I craned me neck toward her before glaring at her. “Okay, Tina! Some liquid courage, right now, huh? No, I’m playing! I don’t know how it works, but it’s gonna be up to me if I want to give them me time. Okay? Okay.”

Angie snapped her fingers before saying. “Exactly! Exactly! Anyway, Ali’s right. Let’s head to the flat.” She hailed a taxi and we all got it.

I left the window open and leaned me head against it. That was ‘til Angie made me shut it. I blew raspberries at her, but did it anyway.

It didn’t take that long to reach the hotel and Angie paid. I was too busy walking up the steps. I saw the familiar doorman.

“Good evening, Ms. Welsh.” He greeted me. Mr. Wilson was an older man in his late 40s. That’s all you have to remember.

“Evening, Wilson.” I flashed him as smile and walked through the door he held open for me. I stumbled straight to the elevator and saw that I was walking way ahead of me friends. 

I groaned while tipping me head back. The met me eventually and when the liftman spoke, I jumped. I didn’t notice that he was in here.

Cassie had to practically drag me out of the things since I had snoozed off. We were all full of cackles and giggles as we stumbled to Cassie’s flat. Once the door open and I crossed the threshold, I groaned extra exaggeratedly.

Angie shouted at me to shut up. I ignored her and worked on taking off these fucking devil heels. I threw them out of sight, out of mind then launched meself onto the bed. 

“Open a bottle!” I chanted. “Open a bottle!” 

When I heard the pop of a bottle, I cheered and flung meself back up. Cassie, Tina, and Angie were all sitting at the table. I trudged over to it and sat down rather unlady like. 

I took the pins out of me hair and shook it out while throwing them on the table.

“So, Aliena, why did you turn down that man?” Angie asked.

I shrugged me shoulders. I didn’t expect her to be the one to ask that. “Didn’t feel like he was the one. Yaknow?” I reached for the glass of wine she’d just poured me and sipped it. 

“Who will be the one?” Cassie quipped as she drank some of her wine.

Me gaze snapped toward her and I said without hesitation. “Perhaps it could be you.”

She as well as Tina spluttered. I smirked, victorious.

I sighed. “Why are you all so concerned with me love life so much? If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. Right now, I’m not looking for meaningless sex nor am I looking to be in a relationship.” I realize that I didn’t say those words with perfect clarity, but— perhaps I did at the same time.

Tina cleared her throat. Everyone’s head turned to her. 

“Because… Because we want to see you happy as the baby in the group.” 

I blinked a couple of times as did everyone else apparently ‘cause once the three of us made eye contact with each other, we started cackling. I mean this was some heavy cackling. The kind that would embarrass you if your significant other heard it. 

“No, but seriously— she’s right.” Cassie said through pants.

I sobered up real quick.

Angie continued. “Yeah. Look, this Thomas Shelby doesn’t seem like the kind of guy for you. I mean, hasn’t he made you cry like more than ten times, already? You don’t even want to find out if he likes you back. Why don’t you just find someone new?”

I blinked slowly as I tried to process what they said. I shook me head and muttered. “I’m gonna head to the loo.” 

I closed the door behind me and stumbled to the sink. I was holding meself up on the sink and I looked up at me reflection. I took in a loud shuddering breath.

They didn’t understand. Tommy wasn’t a bad person, he was just ambitious. They don’t know abar his affectionate side like I do. The Tommy who joked and smiled with me at night. That Tommy was mine to adore on sleepless nights. The Tommy that makes me cry is very real, but it’s not even his fault. It’s mine.

It’s me who’s a coward. I already told them me reasons for not confronting him abar me feelings, why can’t they just accept that. I don’t want to have a bunch of one-night stands that’s not me! Why are they pushing me to do it when they don’t even do that to Tina? Is it because I’m a virgin?

I choked as I exhaled and wiped me eyes. I looked up at me reflection again and saw that I now had raccoon eyes. I blinked quickly while groaning to meself. The mascara was stinging me eyes. I opened the cabinet and scavenged for Cassie’s makeup remover items. 

I’m not going to hold on to Tommy forever. I knew that in me heart. I had too precious of a goal to do that shit. Plus, the choice will be made for me in two years time. If Tommy knocks up Grace, that is. If he does, then I’m done. He loved her and only her. I have no right in the matter nor am I gonna kick up a fuss. I’m just glad to be in their lives.

I cherished his character for so long and so intensely that I actually managed to be “transported” to the Peaky Blinder Universe. Even if I don’t end up with him, this is still an excellent shot at life. I know things abar the future that will help me descendants. As ugly as this is, I can make a profit out of ideas that were invented in me timeline.

Me future doesn’t have to be completely uncertain anymore. 

But no one can ever understand that. Not Cassie, Angie, Tina, Polly, or even Tommy could understand. I can plan me future with almost 100% guarantees that it will be a success.   

It’s so tiring, though. I’m so tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. I have to remember lie after lie after lie. 

I heaved for air as I slid down the sink. There was a knock at the door.

“Aliena, are you all right in there?” 

I nodded, even though they couldn’t see me. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just need some time alone, please.”

“Okay.” Cassie said with a shaky voice.

I’m not upset at them. I’m upset with the truth their words held. I needed to get over Thomas Shelby. I knew that better than anyone. But, I was gonna do it me own way. Nobody can do it for me. I’m gonna do it at at me own time, nobody is gonna plan it for me. 

I got up and wiped the tears that fell. I crawled over to where the toilet paper was, rolled some ‘round me hand and blew me nose. I threw it away and finally stood up. I walked back into the room where they all stared out me.

I pointed to the bed and whispered that I was going to sleep. They acknowledged it and I did as I said I was going to do.

I knew better than anyone that I shouldn’t be in love with Thomas Shelby. That he could get me killed, cheat on me, or ya know— create a toxic relationship. But, I didn’t see us as that. That’s what we were like on the surface. There’s unspoken words that are exchanged between us, always. 

I knew he wasn’t good with words or actions because of the war and the business empire he wants to build. Do I get caught in the crossfire sometimes? Yes. Does me mental health suffer because of it? Yes, of course, it does! I’m human and a very emotional one at that! 

I knew that some people think that Thomas Shelby was an absoulte arsehole and he is, but I saw why he was like that. I understood it. I would be that way too. I am that way. I do harbor similar feelings, but I also don’t want to be in a leadership position. I don’t want that dominance that Tommy does.

And, he does crave it. 

I can’t fix him just like he can never fix me. But in my heart of hearts, I knew he may be the only one who understood these dark thoughts of mine just like I did his. But sometimes that isn’t enough. 

I knew people like him craved an innocent partner at times. Not innocent in nature, but in their actions. They see the good in people, they’re optimists. A “low-born” man who is fascinated with a “high-born” woman because of her naive feisty nature. 

I wasn’t any of that. I saw the worst in people. I consider meself a realist, but I’ve been called a pessimist.  I was born from a middle-class family. And while I am bratty, yes, bratty. I’ve been labeled this by too many friends and family members to try downplaying me character now. I just want to feel safe. I want warmth. I want someone to hold me and tell me that everything’s alright.

I sniffled and wiped me nose. 

Truth is, right now, I’m in limbo. I’m surrounded by people who have good intentions but I’m feeling more depressed than ever. 

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston @nemesis729​ @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @tlfshelby1 @halepea @lilymurphy03 @marsfireeyes @masumiyetimziyanoldu

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x oc #in another world #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine

[passionbooties]

title: and flowers can still bloom within the cracks  rating: t  pairing: raihan/leon 

summary:  raihan always assumed one day, he'd be the one to beat leon. and that the victory would be honey golden sweet. then he sees leon lose, in real time, to a newcomer, and the honey sweet gold turns utterly sour.

also can be read on ao3 !

more under the cut 

There’s a crater taking form in Raihan’s stomach. It’s deep, grotesque, with sharp debris that stabs- hard , with every titled breath he takes. 

The locker room is drenched with silence. Which is laughable considering the roar of the crowd featured on the television screen. All of Galar is in an uproar from the very foundations of their world shattering from a single battle.

Leon lost.

Galar has a new champion. 

Raihan remains rooted to the bench while the rest of the leaders break, one by one, from their shock. But Raihan-he’s consumed by the crater continuing to grow and swallow him whole. Leon lost. The TV screen pans to the trainer who had beat Leon. They looked worn but glowing, excited to have beaten the unbeatable. And who wouldn’t be excited to destroy ten years of glory in a single turn of the tides? 

Raihan is being swallowed. By this weird, hollow ache that stings and makes his eyes see green. His throat burns and he wants to move but he can’t because all he’s thinking about is how Leon lost and it’s not because of him. 

He feels heat rise and fall and ashes stain his tongue as the heat boils. How can someone so fresh and so young make the impossible, possible? How could some kid come in and take the crown that Raihan had been gunning after for years?

How could someone beat his rival?

How could someone beat him ?

It seems unreal, and at some level, it’s not. Because he knew this would happen. He had a feeling in his gut, wiggling into like roots of a tree, when he first met the young trainer Hop called his rival. They had an air of change around them that blew, furiously, like a whirlwind. Like they could topple the very foundations of the world if they tried. All they’d have to do was act. 

And act, they did. 

They won. They won and Raihan can’t help but feel so feeble in this moment because who was he to call himself Leon’s greatest rival if he’d never even won . And then some new competitor rolls in and-

“Raihan.”

Raihan looks up but doesn’t respond as Piers and Nessa walk over to him. Concern is written across both their faces and his first instinct is to tell them to give him some space when the camera cuts to Leon. 

Leon’s smiling at the camera, talking about the battle and how refreshing it was to get such a formidable challenger. But he doesn’t look right. His eyes are bright and his smile isn’t reaching the way it normally does. It’s tight and his shoulders are too square-he’s normally more relaxed, more strong and confident. 

“Fuck,” Raihan goes to stand and forces down the weird heat in his stomach to worry about later. 

“There he goes, overprotective dragon mum Raihan ready to pick up their baby from the masses,” Piers drawls. 

Nessa snorts, “Are you on your way to grab your man and whisk him away from all the reporters? You’re gonna cause a scene.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“We know,” Piers and Nessa say at the same time and if Raihan wasn’t already being tugged in there different emotional directions he would have started a brawl. He’s out and storming for the pitch. The crowd is still roaring, and the cameramen are still talking to Leon and the trainer who wasn’t Raihan that beat him. 

Leon catches Raihan coming for him, eyes wide in question before the realization hits. And Raihan knows Leon gets exactly why he’s here. The camera people cut their attention towards Raihan who’s storming for his target. 

“And here we have the master of dragons, the tamer of weather, Raihan entering the field! No doubt the self-proclaimed greatest rival of former champion Leon has something to say for everyone watching!”

The microphone gets pushed into Raihan’s face. He frowns and slips out a, “Absolutely no comment ,” because he goes for Leon. 

“Raihan,” the way Leon says his name is incredibly intimate. And vulnerable. And if it gets caught by the camera and microphones then the entirety of Galar would put the pieces together that Raihan and Leon have… never really tried to hide. 

“Come on,” Raihan takes Leon’s hand in his and leads him towards the locker room. “Interview is over! I’m taking him home! Good day!” 

As they’re leaving (read: running out of the stadium) the press behind them go into an uproar. But Raihan doesn’t care, and neither does Leon, who squeezes Raihan’s hand particularly tight as they exit the stadium. 

They manage to escape the crowd thanks to Nessa and Piers intercepting the camera crew. Raihan makes a mental note to treat them to drinks and food later. Much later, after him and Leon are able to be alone for a few hours-or hell, maybe even a day. Because Raihan can feel it, through their hands, and the deep shadow that crushes over them, that Leon isn’t okay . 

“Thank you,” he catches Leon saying as Raihan waves down a Flying Taxi.

Raihan looks back, eyes searching and face tight. Leon’s face looks dark, shadowed. His hat is still on his head and he’s biting down on his lip, hard. Raihan can only nod, his heart twisting as the taxi pulls up. Fuck. He hasn’t seen Leon like this in a while.

And he hates it. 

“Where to?” the Flying Taxi driver asks as they board.

Raihan slides in and Leon follows suit. They haven’t let go of their hands. And Raihan peeks as Leon pulls the brim of his hat down a little further, sinking into the seat. “Hammerlocke,” and he rattles off his address and throws a couple of extra Pokedollars with the instructions to make it fast. 

For the ride, neither men talk. But Raihan squeezes Leon’s hand every so often and Leon’s shuddering breaths become less and less heavy as the ride goes on. 

  /

  Raihan’s flat is pretty spacious, considering all the money he’s poured into it to make his home the ultimate bachelor pad. Though, “bachelor pad” wouldn’t really be the right terminology for it anymore. 

Once home Raihan takes Leon to his bedroom and rests on the bed. They sit together, side by side and the silence is still heavy. Enough that Raihan feels the cracks forming, splintering again in the crater he tried very hard to ignore ever since the loss. They haven’t let go of each other yet. Hands still tied and connected and tethered. 

Leon’s face is still shadowed, but it’s not so guarded anymore. The Champion Mask fading away now that he’s safe, and sound, and it’s only Raihan. Raihan who has seen Leon at low points, and breaking points, and near tears. 

“I,” Leon works, slowly. And Raihan presses his nose to Leon’s cheek, nuzzling. “I don’t know-I don’t know where to start.”

“That’s fair.”

“I was so sure I’d win. Even after,” another pause. Leon inhales, and exhales deeply. “After not being able to catch Eternatus and seeing them pull it off. Even then, I never-I was so sure I’d still be called Champion even at the end of the day.” 

And then Leon keeps going in circles and down tangents. Through winding alleyways of confusion and hurt, but also bursting through the doors of acknowledgement and excitement that Galar is entering into a new world where someone else is Champion. Someone else can carry the crown. Someone else can lead a new generation into believing that they, too, can conquer it all.

He does this all through tears. They start running down his face at some point (Raihan knows, because he was watching Leon carefully but he won’t say when) and Raihan pulls Leon closer. Has his head rest on his chest as he talks it out through the sobbing. Every shuddering breath, and shaking shoulder, Raihan holds on tighter and kisses the top of Leon’s head still covered by his cap. 

They sit like that for who knows how long. Until the sun starts to set and orange beams start to filter through Raihan’s bedroom window. 

Leon pulls back, one hand cupping Raihan’s face. Raihan turns to kiss his palm, holding his gaze. Leon smiles. “Are you alright?”

Little flowers begin to bloom in the crater Raihan had ignored in favor of Leon’s own ache. For a minute, Raihan doesn’t know how to respond. And really, the only words that come out at first are, “I love you.” which Leon chuckles and responds with a, “I know. I love you too.”

Of course Leon, sweet and scarily perceptive when Raihan least expects it, could tell. Raihan offers him a crooked smile, and goes to steal a kiss before he really responds. “No. I’m jealous as all hell but…”

Leon’s face on the giant television screen after his defeat crosses his mind. He wonders if he could stomach knowing he made Leon feel that way. With emotions surging forward he wouldn’t be able to properly acknowledge because the time and setting were off. Because the Champion needed to keep going in times of sudden loss, and continue putting on a brave face because the people don’t want to see their Champion feel . 

And then he thinks, would Leon have even made that face at all if it were Raihan and not the trainer who defeated him? 

Leon looks at him expectantly, waiting for Raihan to finish. Raihan instead, shakes his head. “Nah, it’s cool. I’ll be ok. I was more worried for you, though. I knew you were gonna bawl like crazy if I didn’t get you outta there.”

“I would have held it in!” 

“Yeah yeah of course you would. I saw that little teardrop trying to escape,” Raihan teases. 

Leon pouts, which Raihan can’t help but devour. A simple kiss that slips into something more intimate. As Leon’s hand cups the back of Raihan’s head, and Raihan slides his tongue into Leon’s mouth. They know each other well, in the way their mouths move in memorized fashion. The way Raihan bites Leon’s bottom lip just right in the way Leon enjoys. That makes him gasp, and his eyes flutter. 

Raihan sighs, gently, as they part. And presses his lips to Leon’s cheek. Enjoying the soft chuckle that vibrates from Leon. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Bet. Let’s go make food.”

“Sounds good to me,” Leon gets up with a stretch that Raihan watches, lazily. Then Leon scrunches up his nose as he sniffs his jersey. “I’m gonna change first, yeah? I can meet you downstairs.” 

Leon makes a go for Raihan’s closet and Raihan may or may not lightly tap his bum as he goes-lightly! Leon shoots him a look that Raihan simply smiles back at, fang peeking out at the corners. 

“That was a tap for good luck so ya don’t get lost!”

“Stop!” Leon’s face slightly flushes, “I won’t get lost. It’s literally right down the hall.”

“Mhm, mhm. That’s what you said last time,” Raihan walks up to hug Leon from behind, kissing the back of his neck once before letting go. “I’ll see you downstairs.” he murmurs. Leon twists around so they can kiss, once more, before Raihan detaches himself and heads downstairs to start making dinner. 

When Leon comes down he’s wearing a pair of Raihan’s sweats and a hoodie. Raihan can’t help the small heat that pools in his stomach seeing Leon in his clothes. Raihan’s got a few inches on Leon, so his clothes are a little baggy, but Leon still looks tall and carries himself with the pride of a Charizard, still Champion-like. Still holding onto some semblance of regality.

Rotom flies out to take photos as they cook. Well, it’s mostly Raihan cooking and Leon handing him the necessary cooking ware but they’re still a team about it. And if Rotom happens to snap photos of Leon sneaking in kisses then! So be it! Raihan will make sure to post at least one photo on his social media sometime this week. But not tonight, because tonight-Leon is his. 

They retire to the living room, where they’re curled up eating dinner and watching the cheesiest Pokemon movies that Leon and Raihan can act out word for word. In the middle of it all are stolen kisses and touches and the flowers still blooming where the cracks in the craters formed. 

Leon cries a little bit later, again, before they go to bed. And Raihan holds him tightly, fiercely, as the sobs crash like tidal waves. Tonight, is raw. Losing is never easy, especially for someone like Leon who hasn’t tasted defeat in so long. 

But Raihan, rather ironically, knows a thing or two about losing. That it’s horrible dealing with it alone, but a little more bearable when you have someone else to lean in through the loss.

“You’re still as strong and brilliant now as you were before today.” Raihan reminds him, over and over. 

They fall asleep like that, with Raihan’s lips pressed to Leon’s temple and their legs all tangled. 

Raihan had no idea what tomorrow was going to look like for Leon, but he did know that Leon wouldn’t be facing it on his own. 

#raihan x leon #leon x raihan #truerivalshipping #raileon #treasuredshipping #outcomeshipping #my fanfic

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 25

Summary: Kate Rosseau is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 25: Everything’s closing in on Tommy and he knows he needs to act.

           Tommy stepped into his study to find Alfie standing by the window in a wide-brimmed hat.

“Good morning, Alfie.” He made a beeline to the liquor cart.

The man didn’t turn around as he answered. “Yeah it is. Nice little place you got here, Thomas.” He remarked and turned around, relying on his cane to walk over. “Pleasant staff, s’well. Concerned ‘bout you, they are, said you’re not supposed to drink. What did your housekeeper say? That your head is like some smashed vase that’s been stuck back together by a horse. That right?”

Tommy didn’t say anything as he poured himself a glass of whiskey and went to sit down.

“So why’m I here, aye? Which problem of yours do you want me to come in and wave me magic wand for? ‘Cause word ‘round London is you’ve got a lot of fucking problems, mate. Lot of fucking problems. And as much as I know you enjoy me company, I can bet a lot of money that this visit wasn’t just to say hello.” Alfie sat down as well.

“You’re correct.” Tommy needed Alfie’s help, in order to secure that, he knew he needed to appeal to the man. This wasn’t the time for their famous face-offs with guns and threats.

“You’ve lost control, haven’t you, hm?” He rested his hands on the top of his cane, his rings on full display. “’Bout time innit? You’ve been hanging on to a thread for quite some time, haven’t you?”

Tommy downed his whiskey and set the crystal glass on his desk. “I’ve got control, Alfie, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“That right?” Alfie raised an eyebrow in skepticism. “Tell me then, oh wise one, d’you even know if she’s still alive?”

Somehow, the information about Kate had been passed to Alfie. Tommy couldn’t exactly remember how; his memory was still spotty. He couldn’t remember if he had sent a telegram before the injury, or he’d told Ada to send word. It didn’t matter. He pulled out a piece of paper from inside his jacket pocket. Notes he’d gotten from one of his men in America. “Twenty-six Prince Street, Boston, Massachusetts. It’s a four-story brick townhouse across from a church and a park. She takes a walk every morning around seven down the street to the docks. She leaves right before he leaves for work.”

Alfie narrowed his eyes. It was some relief to hear Kate was still alive, but that didn’t mean she was safe. “Yeah? Think you’re smart with that little information, aye? What do you plan on doing ‘bout it?”

“You help me with business here and the second it’s done; I’ll go over to America. When Kate’s on her walk, I’ll kill him for invading my territory, putting his hands on a woman, and threatening my life and the lives of my family. It’s up to Kate whether she wants to come back or not.”

Alfie leaned back, flexing his fingers with a dissatisfied look. “By a thread, Tommy, you’re hanging on by a thread. Can see it in your eyes. But, since I’m such a giving fellow, I’ll help you out with whatever madness you can cook up. You ain't the only one who wants that fucker dead.”

The corner of Tommy’s lips turned up a bit. “Very well. Let’s bring in the rest of the troops.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Kate didn’t mind the wind. She didn’t mind the chilling sting it whipped across her cheeks. She didn’t mind her hair getting mussed up. She didn’t mind because the wind came from the ocean. It carried the salt-scent through the air and made her feel alive again. It reminded her of the times her mother took her to Revere Beach in the summer. The water was brutally cold pretty much year-round. But that never stopped her from wading along the shoreline, gathering shells or hermit crabs.

The ocean made her feel young. It made her feel nostalgic. It made her feel sad.

The ocean had taken her father. Stumbling drunk, he had fallen into the ocean and drowned. His body washed up two days before her eighteenth birthday. That’s when she was training to be accepted into a ballet company. And to raise funds, she stole her father’s identity to conduct business. Illegal business.

Kate thought about this on her way to the ocean’s edge. It was something she could be thankful for, that she now lived so close to the water’s edge. It was less than a mile’s walk down the street from the apartment. From there, she followed the ocean, walking along the sidewalk that led to various parks. She would find a place to sit to look out over the harbor and watch boats pass by.

She thought about all the things she didn’t tell Tommy. All the lies she kept.

Still, she wasn’t too caught up in her thoughts to neglect her surroundings. No, she’d been mindful of her environment for weeks. Mostly because she was nearly positive someone was following her. Well, three men, actually. And one of them looked sneakily familiar.

One of those men, the tall one with sandy blond hair, was following her.

Kate wasn’t scared. Hell, she was already in a life or death situation every day of the week. Someone tracking her in broad daylight wasn’t anything to be scared of. But she was very curious. And that day, she would get her answer.

Kate stopped at a railing that overlooked the wharf. She rested her arms on the top rail, keeping her eyes out over the dark gray-blue ocean. She waited until the man was close enough.

He paused at the railing at a good distance from her. Pulling out a cigarette, he looked like just a normal bystander. But she knew better. “Y’know, you ought to tell Tommy to be a bit more discrete.”

At the sound of his employer’s name, the man jerked his head in her direction and completely blew his cover.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Besides, I recognize you from being around the betting shop. He should’ve picked people who I never met. I would think that would be his first criteria.”

The man swallowed and approached her cautiously. “Miss Lynch, Mr. Shelby was just…”

Kate sighed. “I know what he’s doing. I guess I don’t blame him.” She admitted. Seeing how uncomfortable the man looked, she figured he wasn’t meant to be talking to her. “What’s your name again?”

“Patrick, ma’am.” He answered.

“That’s right.” She nodded. “It’s alright. I’m not going to tattle on you.” She smiled weakly and bit her lip. It felt wrong to even talk to him though. She had made her decision, what good was it to lead Tommy on? To give him false hope? But she couldn’t help herself. “How is he?”

Patrick’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “Well, he was roughed up pretty bad couple of months ago.” He admitted. “Had to get brain surgery, they weren’t sure if he were even gonna make it at first.”

Kate’s heart dropped. “What?” She gasped in shock.

“S’alright now. ‘Least that’s what he says over the telephone.

“God…” She held a hand to her mouth in disbelief. “How did it…” But Kate paused. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what trouble Tommy was getting into. Would it only make her hurt more? Would it make her want to go back even when she knew she couldn’t? Everything in her wanted to know who put Tommy in the hospital. She wanted to make them pay. But it was just in her nature, as well as having so much frustration and anger pent up in her that she was ready to fight anyone.

“Miss?” Patrick noticed her eyes went a bit glassy as she looked past him.

“I’m okay.” She blinked a few times and shook her head. “So, what’s his plan with you?” She wondered.

“Well, he’s got business to finish up back home.” The young man looked uneasy telling her anything. He’d been under strict orders not to say anything. But he didn’t expect her to even notice they were watching her. “Said he would come over here to give us the rest of the money for the job. Other than that, he didn’t say.”

Kate felt like her heart was in her throat. “Well…that can’t happen.” She suddenly felt panicked that Tommy was making a plan to come to her rescue. And she had learned a while ago that once he made a plan, he stuck to his guns. What could she do to stop him all the way in America? "He can't-"

“Kate!” A woman called down the street, interrupting the thought.

Suddenly, Kate began to realize she was still in Santo’s territory. Suspicion would be raised if word got around that she was talking to a mysterious man. She couldn't talk to anyone without everything she said getting back to him. “Tonight, I’m going to need a letter on this bench.” She whispered to Patrick. “Take it and get it to Tommy, somehow.”

“But…”

“Go, go!” She shooed him off and turned to see who was calling to her. Patrick slipped away, with his hands in his pockets.

Anita, the dressmaker approached from down the sidewalk. “Dear, I’m so glad I ran into you.”

“Everything okay?” Kate smiled. She liked the company of the woman who was making her wedding dress. Even though the wedding was the last thing Kate wanted to think of, Anita made it a pleasant experience.

“Yes! I’m almost finished with the bodice of your dress. Isn’t that exciting?” Anita smiled, assuming it would be a happy moment for the bride-to-be.

After hearing the news about Tommy, Kate’s heart was already in pieces. So, the news didn’t help. “Oh, Anita, that’s-” Her voice broke and she couldn't say anything more.

The woman frowned in concern. “What’s wrong, hun?”

“I just, I’m overwhelmed with everything right now.” Kate tried to brush off her response as something a harried bride would say.

“That’s understandable. Weddings are so much work. But it’ll all be worth it in the end.” Anita promised, lightening up a bit. “Well, I have to run. Come by soon to try on the bodice, make sure it fits right.”

“I will, thanks.” Kate sighed under her breath and turned back to the ocean. She felt like she was drowning.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Mr. Shelby?”

Tommy was in the foyer, finishing putting on his cufflinks. It was the morning the orphanage was opening in Birmingham. Despite everything that happened, Tommy decided to keep Grace’s name on the foundation. After all, it was her effort and passion. It wouldn’t be fair to take it from her.

“Yes, Mary?”

Tommy’s maid came into the foyer with a slip of paper. “Telegram came for you.”

“Thank you, could you call the car around?”

“Of course.”

Tommy read over the address the telegram had come from.

Boston, Massachusetts. Patrick McCormick.

Kate recognized me. Wanted to send you a message. Freedom. Beauty. Truth. Love. Stay where you are, Nature Boy. Your family is your greatest thing. Said you’d know what it meant.

Tommy felt lightheaded. It could’ve been because he was mostly subsisting on cigarettes and whiskey those days. “Fuck.” He whispered as he rubbed his weary eyes. He should’ve known Kate would recognize Patrick. He knew how perceptive she was and knew they had met at one point.

Maybe he’d wanted this. Maybe that’s why he sent Patrick. He knew Kate would recognize him. That would alert her that he was still thinking of her. Convey that he was going to bring her home.

He sighed and tucked the telegram into his inside jacket pocket. He needed to get this plan done. There was no telling what might happen to Kate if he took any longer. And with every passing day, Tommy felt more and more hellbent on killing Santo Leoni. The man had lived long enough. "Mary!" He called. "Need you to send a telegram for me!"

///Next chapter is when everything really heats up. That slow burn is gonna get REAL HOT

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997

Tag list:  @radical-gecko @actorinfluence @meltingicequeen @merlettina

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelbyxoc #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #ofc #oc #alfie solomons #cillian murphy #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy fanfiction #tom hardy #tom hardy character

[nodesiretogrowup]

alrighty, let’s recap this bitch!

LAUNCHPAD! I’VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH! PLEASE COME BACK!

I looked up when National S’mores Day is (because I’m a nerd) and it is August 10. So either the photo later was mislabeled or, more likely, Launchpad got the wrong info

Huey with the little baby scouts is TOO CUTE!!

I wonder if Violet’s there. Probably not because she would have been hanging out with Huey if she was. Or this episode was meant to come before Challenge

It’s a baby beagle boy! I wonder if he’s there of his own will or if it is part of some plan

He scared away most of the kids! Now they won’t get to enjoy s’more-y goodness

His s’more sounds DOPE AF, though it probably would give you INSTANT DIABETES

“Aw, not even a modern robot.” MY SWEET SON!

I know it was the bully saying it, but Huey should chill a bit when it comes to doing things EXACTLY and PERFECTLY. It’s just gonna cause stress

 BOYD IS BABY AND I LOVE HIM

“Would you like to be friends?” “Sure. Wow, that was easy.” If only it was always that easy

I don’t know if Huey has the JWG as memorized as he thinks, going by Challenge and Quack Pack

“We’re just kids.” “Definitely!” *uses laser eyes to light fire*

This episode does a good job showing what a trigger word/phrase is like, though I’m not sure if that was the intention

I like that a squirrel with a burnt tail scurries out of one of the trees. It’s the attention to detail that helps elevate this show

Instead of jumping out of the way or hiding Huey jumps straight onto Boyd to try and help him. Huey already sees Boyd as someone worth protecting

The kid that just runs across the screen while his hat is on fire is great

Not sure why they took the time to change before going to Gyro but whatever

BOYD IS ADORABLE AND I LOVE HIM

“I’m more than an intern, I’m a scientist.” I feel like this might be hinting at Fenton’s arc for the season, possibly wanting to be seen more as a scientist than a superhero

I’m gonna pretend that using sunglasses on someone who is shooting lasers out of their eyes is a Cyclops reference. And they look pretty dope too

At least Fenton knows when he is in over his head...this time

Gyro trying to climb up on the table to avoid Boyd was kind of funny. And then him protecting himself with Lil Bulb

“Which one?” Manny is DONE with this shit

“Boyd? What idiot called it that?” Even when he’s not there, Gyro can still burn Mark lol

I figured 2-BO was a reference to something but wasn’t sure what. Apparently it’s a bit of a play on the name of Astro Boy’s in-universe creator’s son. Neat

 Huey stays in between Gyro and Boyd to protect Boyd

Fenton’s face cracks me up. There are NO THOUGHTS in this man’s head lol

“You were an intern like me?” “Nothing like you.” Damn Gyro, why so salty?

I don’t know why Fenton is so surprised that Gyro was an intern. I feel like that’s a pretty standard thing

LOVE IS STORED IN THE BOYD

It make me sad when Gyro mentions how many times Boyd’s core programing was altered. Poor baby doesn’t really get a say in what happens to him

“ROAD TRIP!” Huey, you do these kinds of things ALL THE TIME. I feel like he should be used to this by now

“YOU’RE not going. GIZMODUCK is.” Does Gyro see Fenton and Gizmoduck as separate entities or is this just a no, but yes type of joke?

Huey standing up for Boyd is so sweet. They barely know each other but Huey trusts him

When the episode doesn’t have the theme song you KNOW shit’s ‘bout to go down

I wonder who’s flying the plane. My guess is Launchpad because Della would have been cooing over Huey making a new friend and go into embarrassing mom mode. He probably went of on his own adventure or did tourist things like buying collectables. Or maybe Gyro flew them there. Who knows

As many people have said, the art direction and animation for this episode are BEAUTIFUL. I love the pink tint the lighting has in most of the episode

SAILOR MOON CONFIRMED CANON

I bet Mark Beaks is a Sailor Moon fan

I like that the in-universe Sailor Moon is a bunny because Usagi is Japanese for rabbit

I love that going incognito nowadays means you wear a hat, a hoodie, and sunglasses. Boyd looks good in red (though red is my favorite color so I might be biased)

Gyro-takes one step and the fuzz shows up. NOICE

I like detective lady. She has a cool design

Huey and Fenton are awful at acting casual

“Crimes?” Oh my sweet Hubert. I’m pretty sure most if not all of Scrooge’s employees have had run ins w/ The Law

Gyro is like, move I’m gay

“I’m here on a very important...field trip.” ALL THE KIDS NEED A GYRO FIELD TRIP LIKE HOW THE GAANG GOT ZUKO FIELD TRIPS

Lil Bulb said FUCK THE POLICE

I wonder what it actually says

Fenton just watches as the inspector chases Lil Bulb

Seriously though, Fenton does a bunch of silly stuff in the background and this episode warrants a rewatch SOLELY for him

How did Lil Bulb know where to find them? And how did he shake off the inspector? I want to see his little adventure

FOR SCIENCE!

“Blah!” *arm armor attaches* I want this joke to come back

Fenton and Huey INSTANTLY nerd out. I love them

Fenton being a Gyro fanboy is ADORABLE

“AH, DUST IN MY EYE! The dust of GENIUS!” What a dweeb lol

I like that Fenton keeps the arm on for the whole scene

Poor Boyd, he looks so scared

Huey going into protective big brother mode

Doofus continues to be equal parts hilarious and disturbing

Where are their parents? Like, someone should be looking after these kids! ESPECIALLY DOOFUS!

“Do you need a hug?” I SURE FUCKING DO

Mark is such a prick lol

“NO WAY, A ROBOT BOY! DREAMS DO COME TRUE!” YOU DON’T DESERVE THAT DREAM YOU COCKWAFFLE

SOMEONE HUG THIS CHILD! BECAUSE I CANNOT!

“Seems like the little guy’s had it tough.” MY POOR BABY

Lil Bulb gets SO PISSED he blew a fuse

You really shouldn’t have left them alone, Gyro

Why does Fenton automatically jump to superhero for Boyd? I mean the theme of the episode is letting Boyd choose who he wants to be so of course Fenton would have his own idea of what Boyd should be, but why go straight to superhero? Do you want superbros, Fenton?

Huey already realises this might be a bad idea, because he’s more concerned about Boyd as a person rather than Boyd as a machine

“IN RETROSPECT WE PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE USED THE FIRST HOLE” Fenton, you dumbass genius

Dr. Akita’s setup made me laugh. I DIED when he “enhanced” the image

I recognized the character on the chips though I don’t know their name. I’m more of a western animation fan, so many of the references probably flew pass me

BOOP

I also have a key on my laptop that flies off (it’s the u key)

I LOVE BABY GYRO! It’s so cool they went with his og look (minus the red hair) to show him younger

I LOVE THE OUTLAW COUPLE! SO COOL! SO HOT!

Huey is so DONE with Fenton

I love the stupid G pose he does. PLEASE HAVE HIM DO IT AGAIN. PREFERABLY WHEN DW IS NEARBY

Such a polite boy

“My bones are metal!” This line and Boyd’s catchphrase of “Hi, I’m Boyd/2-BO, a definitely real boy!” reminded me of Olaf. The end of the episode gives Boyd even MORE Olaf parallels

Gizmoduck sliding by those boxes was cool

How did Gizmoduck get himself unstuck from that alley?

I loved the double take the female outlaw does

Huey is TRAUMATIZED

I legit thought Boyd was gonna light the oil on fire the first time I watched and I was like that won’t help

“So, what do we do now?” “I...don’t know.” This is why you don’t leave babies alone to fight criminals

Boyd reminded me of Calculester from Monster Prom when he asked the lady to return the money

STOP LEAVING THE CHILDREN ALONE! THEY ARE BABIES! THEY AREN’T EVEN TEENS!

“Why do we always fight when we’re on vacation?” Because this is Ducktales and there is no such thing as a normal vacation

Lil Bulb just kicking his lil feet

The “lab” safety poster made me chuckle. Then I remembered Akita is also a dog and I laughed more

LITTLE BABY GYRO GRADUATING! My guess is his professor/dean/principal influenced him on a personal level and is partially the reason Boyd is a parrot

Lil Helper blueprints. Nice reference to the og series

Has anyone talked about the poster with the cogs and the dogman in old-timey clothes that says GIZMOS on it? I think it’s a Dr. Who reference

IDEALISTIC GYRO AND BOYD IS TOO CUTE!

How did he NOT notice the second hole in the wall?

That is a surplus of handcuffs. Do you think she uses them for...fun times?

“I’m just a guy! With very bruisable skin!”

Poor misunderstood Gyro inventions

Boyd just politely waves at everyone

Huey is WAY calmer than I would be if I got lost in an unfamiliar city

Boyd says FUCK WORK

 I love Huey stimming. Really hope Disney will let them confirm in words that Huey is autistic

Is it more common for two kids to wonder around by themselves in Tokyo? Because as an American I find it super stressful and would want to find their parents so they could be safer

THE BUNNY! AND THEN THE KITTIES!

Do cats just take buses on their own in Tokyo?

CHERRY BLOSSOM TIME BITCHES

“And I know what you’re thinking, what about ninjas?” I am ALWAYS wondering about ninjas

I like that Huey finally has a friend who shares the same interests and doesn’t mind info dumps

“Boyd, I don’t think you’re a killer robot. You’re just a kid.” “Aw, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” T_T

I CAN SHOW YOU THE WORLD

I like Boyd’s motief

Akita is us after the quarantine

When he complained about being stiff I was like mood

I like his Green Goblin disc thingy

The other people don’t give a shit about Boyd just FLYING DOWN WITH HIS ROCKET FEET!

Gyro shows up *dramatic wind*

His tablet has a duckie on it. I wounder if they have a Mac/PC thing going on with Waddle and what brand the duckie represents

When the adults argue and Boyd gets all sad and scared I FELT THAT

Huey doing his best to keep Boyd calm and defend him SO PURE

OH GOD HELP THIS POOR CHILD!

HUEY IS A GOOD BOY AND A GOOD FRIEND

“Because of you I’ve become an outcast.” I feel like you did that to yourself

ANIME HAIR POOF

ngl, that shit was TERRIFYING

“You don’t have to do what Akita tells you. Do what I tell you.” So close

“INTERN! FIGHT BETTER!”

Huey must weigh NOTHING if Gyro can pick him up

Akita’s tail looks like a cinnamon roll

Huey always finding that hidden info

The gibberish Gyro says is great

BOYD SAYS IT BECAUSE GYRO TOLD HIM THAT!

THAT HUG!!!

HOW DARE AKITA HURT BABY GYRO AND SWEET BABY BOYD?!

PROTECTIVE PAPA GYRO

NEEEEERRRRRRRD FIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT

“You’ll never invent anything worthwhile.” LIL BULB HAS ENTERED THE FIGHT

Are doggos recyclable?

HUUUUUUUUUUUUUGS

Blue eyes=good robot

ANOTHER HUG

Be Only Yourself, Dude

I like that basically Gyro admitted that he was like Fenton if Fenton hadn’t had support

“That’s not technically how doctorites work, BUT I DON’T CARE!” Do you think Gyro doesn’t have his doctorate or do you think he assumed Fenton already had one?

“The hugging is a ‘just for today’ thing.” YOU CANNOT STOP THE HUG TRAIN!

“Leave. Now.”

Are they gonna go to the plane?

This season has been consistently knocking it out of the park! I’m a SLUT for backstory episodes, so I enjoyed this one a lot. I loved seeing Gyro when he had hope and faith in the world. It SUCKS that Akita took that away from him. Hopefully Gyro will see things slightly less cynical now. Fenton was a dweeb the whole episode and I love him for it. Boyd is SO SWEET AND PRECIOUS and in NO WAY deserved the treatment he got. I have a feeling there is more to Boyd’s creation/Dr.Akita that we’ll get later on. Huey was ADORABLE this episode. It’s really sweet to see him hangout with someone who gets him. Everyone deserves to have at least one friend like that. The fight scene was GORGEOUS! SO FLUID! I really loved this one and I hope we get more Team Science episodes because these characters play really well off each other. 

#ducktales #dt spoilers #a bit later than normal but oh well

[letswritefanfiction]

Lost in Halloweenia! Ch1

Crosspost from ffnet and AO3.

Summary: It's Halloween! Ash and the gang are living it up trick or treating when they stumble upon a strange house with some strange artifacts. What mysteries do they hold and…wait, who are those three lurking behind them?

Word Count: 2,997/27,343

Setting: Set in between Hocus Pokémon and Here's Lookin' At You, Elekid.

A/N: Hello! This is a story I wrote back in 2016 and, since it’s spooky month yet again, I thought it was time to bring it back, since it’s one of my faves! This story is meant to by in the style of the Pokémon anime, plus Scooby Doo vibes. It’s all just very fun.

No ships!

Next chapter here

Chapter 1: Trick or Treat

Having just received his last Gym Badge from the Blackthorn Gym, Ash and his friends are hard at work as ever in preparing for the Silver Conference…

“Oh boy, a king size candy bar!”

Or are they?

Ash brought the plastic-wrapped log of chocolate up to his nose and inhaled loudly, salivating even though he couldn’t smell anything beyond the crisp October air burning his nostrils. After savoring the moment for all of two seconds, he ripped open the chocolate bar and bit off a mouthful, strands of caramel lacing his teeth and the candy together, looking like strands from the play spider webs decorating the houses of the neighborhood. When he licked it all away, he offered a bite to Pikachu, who was perched as a Golbat on his shoulder, wings and all.

“Ash, you’re supposed to be saving your candy, not eating it all tonight,” Misty stated, dropping her own piece into her orange jack-o-lantern bag hanging from the crook of her arm as she held Togepi to her chest. Togepi was thrilled by all of the sights and was content to do nothing but trill away at all of the lights and spooky decorations.

“Who says?” Ash grunted through the sticky sweetness.

“I bet your mother would,” Brock said. “And please tell me that you’re not still wearing your fake teeth.”

After swallowing, Ash felt around his teeth with his tongue to discover that he was, indeed, still wearing the false teeth that were the finishing touch on his vampire outfit. Except now, instead of glowing a light green in the dark, it was certain they were stained brown with milk chocolate and caramel goodness. Pikachu barred his teeth to reveal much the same on his own fake incisors.

“Oops.”

Misty sighed, shaking her head. “I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle accessories.”

“Hey, at least I was smart enough to wear a costume that I wouldn’t freeze to death in!”

Misty looked down at her costume, mostly just to hide her flushing face behind her bangs. She was wearing the Goldeen outfit that she had worn ages ago in that crazy magician act. “So what? I already owned it, so I figured I might as well wear it! Besides, Brock isn’t any better.”

Brock had decided to dress like Bruno of the Kanto—and Johto, since that’s where they were—Elite Four leaving him entirely shirtless. He was hoping that it would gain him points with the ladies. Unfortunately, most of the ladies they had seen so far were half his age. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to be pulled into the argument, so he suggested, “Hey, why don’t we just check out the next house?”

Misty harrumphed. “Yeah, Brock. Let’s go.”

Ash lingered behind for only a second. “Thinks she can boss me around like that,” he grumbled. “Why shouldn’t we be able to eat our candy on Halloween?”

Pikachu chattered his agreement before pointing in the direction Misty and Brock were headed.

“Oh, you’re right! We gotta beat them to the next house!”

Moments after Ash ran to catch up to Misty and Brock, there was a rustling in the boxwood hedges lining the sidewalk.

Jessie popped her head out from a bush, making certain that she was holding two branches on either side of her face. She spied the twerp running off after the other two twerps with Pikachu right there on his shoulder, as usual. “Hmm, right on schedule.”

“On schedule fo’ what?” Meowth burst out of the next bush, some leaves taped to his whiskers. “We don’t have a plan!”

“Maybe we would if it weren’t Halloween!” James interjected, poking his head out of a third bush, pausing to spit out a few leaves. “But there are people everywhere! How are we supposed to pull off any kind of a heist?”

“Well…” Meowth began slyly, turning slowly to James as a smile spread across his face, “we could pull off a candy heist if we did a little less trickin’ and a little more treatin’!”

“Ooh, now that’s a good plan, Meowth!”

Jessie whipped her hair around and managed to smack both James and Meowth across the face, leaving them both dazed. “You numskulls! We’re not out to get candy like all of these snot-nosed little kids! We’re out to catch Pikachu!”

“But Jess,” James whined, “think of how long it’s been since we’ve had that much food! Much less good tasting food.”

There was the sound of water dripping into the bushes as James and Meowth began to drool. Jessie clenched her fist until it shook, ready to let them have it again before she heard her stomach rumble. Both boys turned to her with raised eyebrows and Jessie blushed, holding her stomach in a gloved hand.

From out of the bushes, she produced three pillowcases and announced, “Well, I guess it can’t hurt to think about food every once in a while! We can always nab Pikachu once those twerps have had their fill and all we have to do is roll Pikachu off the twerp’s shoulder and right into the boss’s office.”

With matching grins, each grabbed a bag and then made off for the closest house, so close to mountains of candy they could taste it.

“Wow, this house would be spooky even if it weren’t Halloween.”

Ash and Misty nodded along to Brock’s words as they all stood at the end of the street before a huge house that seemed to creak as a strong wind blew the autumn leaves and loose candy wrappers across the lawn.

It was like something out of a storybook. It was dark purple with a thatched black roof, which was made up of all odd angles, coming to a zenith at a pointed tower standing in the middle with a single window. Jutting in front of the window were bars of sharp iron, twisted as if by a giant’s strong grasp.

“Well, the porch light is on,” Ash pointed out. “That must mean that they’re accepting trick-or-treaters.”

Ash began to make for the front deck before Brock and Misty pulled him back. Even Pikachu pulled on his hair a little.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?”

“M-Maybe we should just skip it and head to the next house,” Misty suggested, eyeing the spooky structure warily.

“Why would we do that? Let’s just knock on the door.”

Ash stepped confidently forward, ignoring a whine from the back of Pikachu’s throat as the deck groaned at their combined weight. There was no doorbell, so Ash raised his fist to knock on the door when, without so much as a tap, it opened all on its own.

“Huh, look at that.”

Brock and Misty had reluctantly followed Ash, but now the both of them were slowly creeping backwards. Brock cleared his throat before saying, “Okay, now we should go, Ash.”

“No, wait, look at that!” Ash was pointing just inside the doorway, where there was a small table holding a huge bowl of candy and a silver candelabra. Just above the bowl was a sign that said, take one. “Look, they want us to go in!”

Ash pushed the door open all the way, revealing that the whole room was lit by nothing but the three-pronged candelabra, flickering as the wind from outside tickled the stale air inside the house.

Opening the door revealed a parlor, completely decked out with Halloween decorations. There was a bit of old furniture here and there, but covering every open space were pumpkins, skeletons of humans as well as various Pokémon, witch’s hats, brooms, and gnarled branches with bat-like Pokémon hanging from them. But they weren’t tacky items snatched from the bargain bin of a local drugstore; everything was so well-made that they looked almost real, down to the porous bones of the skeletons and peeling bark of the branches.

After Ash stepped inside, Brock and Misty followed to take their pick from the massive collection of candy. Misty gave a little shriek when she saw an enormous Ariados doll in the corner, somehow suspended from the ceiling. It was shrouded by the dark, but the enamel mandibles almost seemed to glow with poisonous saliva in the candlelight.

She put a hand up to her face, turning away from it. It wasn’t real, it only looked real. So it should only bother her if she looked on it. Nevertheless, the hairs on her arms were standing up on end and, for once that night, it wasn’t from the October chill.

They all turned their attention back to the most pleasant sight of the candy dish. Even though it was pretty late in the night, the bowl looked virtually untouched. Apparently most trick-or-treaters thought even candy wasn’t worth trying the old, creepy house.

But boy, were they missing out! There had to be every type of candy in that bowl. Chocolate, caramels, hard candies, lollipops, butterscotch, even truffles and small baked goods—more than Ash had even thought to imagine.

“You know, I bet we can take more than one,” Ash said, reaching into the tantalizing bowl. “I don’t think anybody would be upset by that.”

“Ash, it says to just take one.”

Misty’s words sounded firm, but one look over at her, with her face inches from the candy bowl, showed that she didn’t much believe what she was saying. She wanted the treats nearly as much as Ash did.

Both Togepi and Pikachu, who had wiggled their way onto the table, were also looking over the lip of the candy bowl, trying to make the best choice.

“One each,” Brock stated. Both Ash and Misty sighed, resigning themselves to follow the rules before Brock spoke up again, this time with a big grin. “Though that doesn’t mean we can’t each choose one for each of our Pokémon too!”

Ash and Misty cheered as they finally dug into the bowl, counting off candy for each of their Pokémon as Brock wedged himself into the mix as well.

“Do you think all thirty of my Tauros count?”

“Only if all of my Gym Pokémon count!”

“Those aren’t yours; they’re your sisters’!”

“No, they belong to the Gym! And I’m better with them anyway!”

“Are not.”

“Am too!”

“Are not!”

“Am too!”

“Are—”

“Enough out of both of you!”

Brock unwrapped two pieces of caramel and stuck one into Ash’s, then Misty’s mouth to quiet them. He nodded at his handiwork as both of them struggled to chew.

“That’s probably enough candy for the both of you.”

Then Misty made a gurgling shriek through the caramel as she began looking about wildly.

“What?”

“Pobeebee ih aw!”

Brock cocked his head. “What?”

Pikachu reached and patted Brock. “Pipipi!”

Ash caught on at that point, joining in with Misty’s mumbling. Brock, however, still had no reaction, so Pikachu was forced to concentrate, spiking the fur on his head and rounding his body until he looked like an egg.

“Oh, Togepi!”

Misty finally managed to chew the caramel down to a workable level and shouted, “We have to find Togepi! Anyone see where it went?”

Everyone collectively shook their heads. Then, they heard a light trill echo throughout the whole house. They cast about, uncertain of the direction the sound came from. Pikachu’s ears twitched for a second, and then he took off, scampering out of the room.

“Hey, Pikachu!”

Ash ran after Pikachu, with Brock and Misty not too far behind him. There was no electric lighting to speak of in the house, but every hallway and room was lined with sconce-like lanterns, fire blazing in each of them; there was just enough light to see a few feet in any direction, but no more.

After rounding just a few corners, they stopped in their tracks, finding themselves completely lost, with no trace of Togepi or Pikachu. There wasn’t so much as the light thump of a footstep. Nothing but dull creaks from the house, coming from every direction so that it seemed like the house was trying to move or maybe even say something.

“I think we should head back to the front of the house,” Brock suggested. “Just wait for Pikachu and Togepi there.”

“No, we have to find Togepi!” Misty was insistent, her jaw clenched and her gaze firm, but the wavers in her voice belied her strong façade.

“Pikachu will find Togepi, Misty. And we’ll be easier to find if we just stay put.”

Misty looked to Ash, who nodded at her. “Misty’s right, Brock. I wanna find Pikachu.”

Brock could only shrug. “Suit yourself. But let’s retrace our steps at least to find a better path, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Alright.”

It only took a few steps for them to realize they had no idea where the front of the house was. They turned around a few times, poking their head past corners, into hallways, looking for any sign of familiarity.

Somehow, the whole house was designed the way the parlor had been. In every corner were pieces of antique-looking Halloween paraphernalia, most dusty with time, like they hadn’t just been set out in the past few weeks for the holiday. It seemed as though it was always Halloween in this house.

Ash stepped over the black statue of a Purrloin wearing a witch’s hat, trying the last exit from the room for any hint as to where they had come from.

“No luck. That hallway just has some huge ghosts that I don’t remember seeing.”

“So, we’re lost?”

Misty looked at Ash with a perfect blend of irritation and fear while he sweat-dropped and backed away slowly, nearly tripping over the Purrloin.

“Not lost,” Brock stated, trying to diffuse the situation—or rather, avoid any situation that got Misty too mad. “We just don’t know where we are or how to get back to where we were.”

A vein began to throb on Misty’s forehead as she turned to Brock. “Well, what is that if not lo—”

“Pika! Pika!”

The sound echoed all throughout the house until the two calls became many, sounding like there were dozens of Pikachu hiding in the very woodwork of the house. It sounded like it could have come from anywhere. Ash, Brock, and Misty cast about in all directions, to little avail.

“Priii!”

That sound too began to echo, morphing until it was a twisted distortion of Togepi’s cute call.

“I think it’s coming from upstairs!” Ash finally declared. “Which hallway had the stairs?”

“This one!” Misty shouted, pushing in front of them and making for a set of wooden stairs, spiraling up with an iron rail, lined with cross-shaped spikes.

“Careful!” Brock put a fingertip to one of the spikes and yanked it away quickly. “These are sharp!”

“Pikachu! Where are you?”

“Togepi! Please come out here!”

Ash and Misty tumbled onto the landing at the top of the stairs and listened as more calls came from their Pokémon, bouncing off every which way, but stronger than they had been down below.

“This way!”

“You better not be getting us lost again, Ash Ketchum!”

“No, they’re definitely this way!”

“Guys, wait up!”

The trio eventually stumbled into a large, cluttered room, furnished like an attic, with no candles to light the way. There were, however, windows washing the room with the moon’s pallid glow.

“Pikachu?”

“Pikapi!”

Ash nearly ran into a tall suit of armor as he rounded a stack of items, opening the large room up even further. There, bathed in a deep red glow, were Pikachu and Togepi, eyeing a strange object.

“What is that?” Misty asked with a gasp.

The red glow seemed to be emanating from the object, which was resting in a basket on top of a treasure chest, just out of Pikachu and Togepi’s reaches. Not for lack of trying, though, as Togepi kept stretching its arms out, trying to touch it.

“It looks like an egg,” Brock observed. “Like a dragon egg, or something.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!”

Ash rushed forward to look at it and soon enough, the whole gang was taken in by its almost supernatural glow.

Pikachu took it upon himself to take Togepi in his arms, raising it over his head so it could get a closer look at the object. Togepi trilled in delight, leaning in to reach it.

“Don’t touch it, Togepi,” Misty chastised. “It’s not yours.”

Togepi frowned for a second, whimpering a little. Then it jumped out of Pikachu’s grasp, arms outstretched as if to give the egg a hug. Togepi landed in the basket, which was lined with straw and wheat in a neat nest, and tried to hug the egg, but its stubby arms kept it at a distance.

“Oh, Togepi.”

Misty reached for Togepi, but before she could grab it back into her loving arms, the egg began to glow brightly, blinding everyone for a moment as their eyes adjusted. After a few burning blinks, everyone turned back to see Togepi being sucked into the egg.

Everyone gasped in shock. Pikachu was the first to regain his wits, and he leapt up, grabbing for Togepi, only to begin being sucked into the egg too.

“Oh no, you don’t!”

Ash grabbed for Pikachu, Misty grabbed for Ash, and Brock grabbed for Misty, each disappearing faster and faster as the glow became stronger, before fragmenting from a blood red into individual beams of orange and black like a Halloween sunburst.

Then, they were gone, and the room was once again dark and silent, save for the whistling of the wind outside, and the gentle groans of the old, dark house.

On Halloween night, Ash and friends had expected lots of treats but this is one trick they hadn’t expected! Where have they gone and how will they get out of this one? Stay tuned for next time!

#pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fic #ash ketchum fanfiction #ash ketchum #pokemon #fanfiction #team rocket #pikachu #pokemon fanfic #pokeani #anipoke #ash ketchum fanfic #ash ketchum fic

[goldthatglistens]

For some reason I started writing down whatever was in my head when I was watching Black Sails and sleep deprived and this is what happened:

Now you have everyone’s eyes where you want them. What happens next? I wish to speak on behalf of the defendent. The power you’ve given them. That the prisoner before you. For those of you who live to see tomorrow, know that you had a choice to see that the truth and you let yourself be convinced otherwhies. Stay down. Fire. How are they so good at fighting? I’m so confused. Peter Ashe. Her word with be the last hope for this place. Move. What? They’ve engaged the blockade. I’ll take my chances sailing. Oh my goodness. What? I gave you an order? What is your problem. Where are his key’s? And has he seen them since he took me away from my men. Shouting. Gunfire. More screams. Billy Bragg. I legit can’t believe he is in so many shows. Take him to Howell. Help me. If those ships flank us, they’ll have us. Gun crews at the ready. Fire at will. How did that happen? WHo did they conspire against. How did two pirates fight  literally everyone in town. I don;t understand. They’re over there. This is probably the most unrealistic part. People screaming. The buildings on the right, every building. Look down there. Cannons boombing. This is literally chaos. I don’t understand how people. He sets the m free. Move. There is so much chaos, how do they even know who the pirates are? How did they not runinto them. They are really leading their reputation. I wonder if Peter Ashe was a real person? Fire! Get them both. Men. Take aim. Behidn them. Wait, what the fuck happened? Why didn’t he fire? How are they not getting hit by the cannonballs? What did they do to his leg? Somone give him some rum. Somone should just knock him out. Oh my lord that is nasty. I think they need to cut it off. How is he still talking and not screaming. What does that mean?W hat does that mean? They should knock him out omg. Why don’t they. Don’t they have things. But it’s under control now. Release those men. What/ I know what happened and I don’t care, I won’t hold pirates prisoner on my ship and I wont again . Ready the guns, full compliment. Whatever’s left. They are really going to town. Charles Vane is just chill there. I can do it wiht as few as three or four men. I don’t want this. I don’t want this. You’ll die. This way there is a very good chance to prevent this. I don’t understand how cutting off can make it better? Also, how did they do that much damage with just a hammer? I guess hammers are really heavy. Oh wow, this is more graphic than I thought. Wow. Did this actually happen to Charles Town? Is this in penssylvania. Literally everything is being blown apart. Yikes that must suck to be Lord Ashe. But he betrayed them? I really don’t understand what is so bad. HOw are they sawing his foot off when he’s still alvie? Why the fuck didn’t they knock him out? Or why didn’t he pass out. I am so confused. How do they stop the blood? How did they stop the infection? His eyebrows look weird, I think that’s why he looks weird. Also, he should shave off that ugly mostashe. Also, bwhy did they put him on the bed. At least he lived, I guess. Just south of Inagua. Winds blew us east. We stopped at tortuga to refit and garner news which there was plenty. Elanor Guthrie has been arrested. In teh custody of His Majesty’s Navy. There is no Guthrie in Nasseau. Did Guthrie actually exist? Try and act suprised. That’s nice that they coted. THe more those men need you, the more you need them. It drives us to do the most unexpected things. There’s something you’d ought to know before we reached nassea. I’m sorry I’m having a hard time. He lied to us all. And then he sold the information to the other crew so that he could retrieve the gold. WHo the fuck did he sell it to. Mr. Jack Rackham. Oh gotd thats an ugly child. I guess its a boy. Max is honestly so annoying. Honestly, Jack is the best. The information was incomplete at best and they fought like hell. Is that the. We needed the hold space? OMG he got it. I can’t believe it. WHy did the spanish soldeir  figiht. Also, why would the king get so much money. What happen to Elinor Guthrie. What is Carolina? Oh, I bet this is the British dude. Oh wow, those are good brothers. Eww look at his beard. Everythign moves towards its end. I feel like clocks are a symbol. I explained all this to Mary who said she understood. Well, you’re here. I can think of at least three lies. First, I amge she told you I retired from a prosperous trade. The trade was piracy. Second she told you my name was drummond, she clearly led you to believe that you could point your sword in my direction and survive the experience. Yikes. It’s not their fault. This too was somethign less than the truth. There is definitly a similar way they introduce pirates. They start with the bad and then go on to add more layers. Also, was there an intro to every episode, because if so I missed it lol. Who are these masked leaders. Those are the same signs that arthur uses in the once and future king. What the hell is happening. Is this blackbeard? What happened to the gold? Where is Jack Rackham. Jack Rackham is my favorite because he’s funny lol. Oh my goodness are they saving Eleanor guthrie. Oops thats some other blonde woman. OMG thsi is flint. Who are these old farts? Hazzard the magistrate. Their magistrates hagned men for piracy. Fint has gone crazy and SHAVED off all of his hair. I don’t understand why flint is so gungho about saving all the pirates after they are dead? I wagered that despite all I heard about you that you could tell the difference. Why the fuck did he kill him? Oh my goodness, Flint has really gone off the rails. What happened? When he lost his hair, he lost his sense of justice or something. I thin he is being reminded of Miranda. I guess without Miranda he has nothing left as an ancor to humanity. Hoenstly, I just want captain vane and flint workign together. Why does Long John Silver have that ugly ass neck beard? Don’t enable Flint Billy. Charles Vane is very pretty. HE is gathering the slaves. Charles Vane does not like slavery. I forgot how scary the pirates are. Why did that dude just give up? How was Charles Vane a slave? Like how did that happen? HE’s white? Who enslaved him. Oh my goodness, I would rather just get shot. 

#black sails #captain flint

[darkhymns-fic]

New Year’s Eve

Lloyd and Colette celebrate their first New Year's together the best way they can. (Modern AU)

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: T (on tumblr) Mirror Links: AO3 (contains mature content) Notes: A quick story I wanted to write for New Year’s, based off an rp with @frayed-symphony​. The story on AO3 contains higher-rated content so watch out! Thank you for making this a great year and I can’t wait for what 2019 will bring!

With the clock striking closer to the hour, Colette found it harder and harder to stem her nervousness.

He’s been gone a while… But she shook her head, trying to busy herself with her assignment that she had gotten over the winter break. She had already gone more than halfway through it though, and the rest seemed too mindless to concentrate on. There really was not much else to do but wait.. She wished they had gotten Noishe for the day, so that at least she wouldn’t feel completely alone.

Maybe I should call… no, he’ll be too busy to answer… or maybe something happened. The worries only continued to build. She had even tried watching tv, though its volume was low enough to just be background noise. The brightness of the electric lights, along with panning shots of so many people, kept being there at her edge of vision, reminding her of the current day, or night actually. I should have just gone with him… or went myself. What if he misses it?

At the front, the doorknob jiggled suddenly, accompanied by a familiar voice outside that sounded like he was having trouble. Colette instantly got to her feet, her every nerve sparking with excitement as she rushed to open the door.

“Oh! Thanks!” Lloyd was grinning wide – in his arms he carried grocery bags, some of them holding maybe a wine bottle or two, along with snacks. Were there decorations there too? She saw some colorful things, like a few party hats, even though it was only going to be the two of them. But she didn’t stare long at that, because Lloyd was wearing a funny decoration himself.

“I just got a couple of things! Like those cool party poppers, and the store was selling really cheap candy… oh, what is it?”

Colette couldn’t stop her giggles. Half of Lloyd’s face was obscured by the 2019 plastic glasses he wore, their entire surface covered in red glitter that was definitely going to get everywhere in the apartment, even more than Noishe’s fur. “Did you get one of those for me?” she asked, pointing at it.

“Of course I did!” He finally unhooked the bags from his arms and took one such glasses from one of them, handing it over to Colette. “I got one in blue, if that’s okay.”

She nodded, already fitting it on her face. It was wide enough for her to see well for the most part, though her side vision was now a bit obscured. Lloyd was grinning at her with his own party glasses, hands on his hips. She loved it when they matched, even on such silly things.

“Thanks, Lloyd! Though, you didn’t need to get these. We were only missing the wine..”

“I know! But these looked neat!” He took out another party item from the bag, a little noisemaker that was wrapped in bright green foil. It looked like a tiny flute almost. He blew on it, and the end of it unfurled, tapping Colette on the nose. “Oh, sorry.”

“That tickled!” She couldn’t help but laugh more, knowing he also bought plenty of these. “You’re really excited for New Years, aren’t you?” She now saw why he took a while – the stores would be putting out every colorful thing they could display for last-minute sales and Lloyd would have been drawn to nearly every one of them.

He smiled a little shyly. “Yeah, just I’ve never had it here in the city. There’s supposed to be a bunch if fireworks, right? I only ever saw it on tv.” That smile widened, and even his eyes must have twinkled a little at the anticipation of it, helped out by those bright glasses. “My dad sometimes set off fireworks but he always had to be careful so there was never a lot… also Noishe got too scared of them anyway, so we don’t do it too much.”

“Oh, right.. I wish he could be here though.” Noishe was staying at Dirk’s home back out in the calmer countryside. She had thought about going there for celebrating New Year’s, but Lloyd had mentioned before about the city. She had seen it each time, so it wasn’t anything too new for her. Maybe that was what Lloyd felt about his home, too.

“He’d be hiding under the bed for hours if he heard any fireworks,” Lloyd explained. “But we can get him tomorrow!”

Colette instantly grew excited. However, while still staring at Lloyd’s silly headwear, she then remembered. “Oh, we only have like 10 minutes left! You took a while, I was.. getting worried.”

“Wh- It’s that soon?!” Lloyd instantly reached for the wine bottle, along with multiple party poppers and noisemakers in hand. “Um, maybe we can drink after… Do you think they’d start early?”

Colette was already putting on her jacket, clasping the silver buttons, smiling softly at the red material of the clothing. She saw the same with what Lloyd wore now too, which would be helpfully bright against the dark of outside. “Maybe people with their personal fireworks… but the big ones always start at 12!” She reached for his hand, taking a few of the party favors for herself. “So we should hurry.”

“Yeah, alright! Let me just, uh-” He shoved the wine and other quick foods across the kitchen counter, nearly uptipping the bottle but saving it at the last second. But he grasped her hand back, already going out the door with her. “Okay! Wanna race again?”

“N-not if you’re gonna cheat!” she said back, grinning. They just rushed off together to the stairwell instead. The night would be cold, but the skies would be bright. Colette had never felt as excited for this as before… but Lloyd always made everything more exciting.

Luckily no one was on the rooftop as she had been afraid of. It really did feel like a special place, even on this day. By the time they reached it, she could already hear the soft whistle of a firework arching through the air, ready to ignite. An early one, but not the main event yet.

Lloyd swiveled his head towards the sound, looking up wide-eyed as one firework exploded, showering lights through the air. “Whoa… is that it?”

“It’s gonna start soon!” Colette reassured. The night was still cold, and she bunched her jacket tighter to herself. The sleeves still went over her wrists, but she liked it that way. She really did. Adjusting her party glasses, she took one noisemaker, and blew it behind Lloyd’s head.

“Hey!” Lloyd jumped, grinning as he turned around. He blew his own into her face. “Bet I can do it longer!” And he proceeded to do just that, the sound so harsh but making Colette nearly double over in laughter. He just looked so silly, and it made her want to do what she promised herself before it was time…

Then finally, the real fireworks started.

Lloyd noticed, and turned back towards the skies, the noisemaker still in his mouth but silent. Some fireworks did the usual spreading out of lights, while others formed pictures – of hearts, of stars, and even of words! ‘Happy New Year’ was lit up against the dark, like briefly formed stars, before falling away, trails of smoke following after them.

“Wow!” he said aloud, dropping the noisemaker from his lips and catching it in time with a fumble. “There’s way many than I thought.”

Colette was watching too, but her hands fidgeted with themselves a little. It was midnight right now, and she wanted to help make it count before the seconds ticked by too fast. It was just hard to make Lloyd turn away, he looked so happy…

Still, maybe this would make him happy, too. “Lloyd?”

She was surprised he could hear her through the constant booms and crackles of the fireworks. She had taken off the party glasses, and then reached out to take his own from his face. It looked so cute on him, but it would only get in the way.

“What’s up? You feeling okay?” he asked her, but then she leaned in quickly to kiss him. Lloyd’s lips felt chilled from his time outside, but still soft, drawing her even closer.

I always wanted to share this moment with someone, she thought, hands gripping his shoulders tight.

She only pulled back once she felt it was enough – he probably wanted to go back to looking at the fireworks. “H-happy new year, Lloyd,” she whispered, eyes lowered. “It’s.. been a really a good year, meeting you and…living together and everything. I want.. more of that for next year, too. I…” she paused, suddenly feeling shy. “Sorry, you should go back to watching! There’s still a bunch more.”

But Lloyd was moving forward, kissing her more deeply than she had. She opened her mouth at that, hands reaching up to thread her fingers through his hair. His tongue rushed through her, and she felt him press their bodies even closer.

She still heard the fireworks, could see their lights through her shut eyes as she kept kissing him, her face feeling so hot from his closeness.

The kiss lasted so long that once they finally moved apart, the night wind felt biting without his mouth to cover her in warmth.

“Colette,” he whispered, lips still so, so close. “I love you.. This has been the best year for me.” He kissed her again, his breath quickening against her lips. “I want you for every year.” His kisses grew desperate, moving from her lips to her chin before halting. “Ah, sorry… got carried away.” She felt his grin at her ear.

His hands moved to wander across her sides. They hadn’t even drunk the wine yet, and already she felt Lloyd wanting her so much. It made her feel so comforted, not alone in her feelings.

“It’s okay… we can.. keep going.” She wanted to celebrate with him the best way she could. “If that’s okay..”

Another kiss, and she was lost with him.

#tales of symphonia #colloyd #lloyd irving #colette brunel #fanfiction #one shot #frayed-symphony #happy new year!

[foolscapper]

Exploding Head Syndrome: A MCU Post-IW Fanfic | Ch. 1

(READ IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER.)

It takes two years for them to right everything. Two long years — most of it spent in chaotic shades of tears, screaming, silent defeat, and a very unsuccessful five stages of grief for everyone involved. It's a world where billions of people have all had their candle wicks pinched in tandem between ugly purple fingers, their lights gone out in the pits of their mourning loved one's stomachs. There was not enough time in the day for funerals, not enough room or money for smoothed gravestones, and far too many people that will never, ever be identified as dead. Those people, the ones without families and friends, they simply never existed. Perhaps in the backgrounds of neighborhood photos they weren't meant to be a part of, but ultimately? They are vagabonds who just blew away in the wind.

And those who did have people left behind, who mourned and prayed for them?

They were just memories on walls.

Nobody from their team of heroes took their noses out of books or their eyes off screens, carving out new and old information on celestials, on resurrection, on righting the wrongs done by an arrogant bastard who decided to snap his fingers and purge the universe of any happiness; that same purple bastard had vanished without another word, and Thor had paced through the Avengers headquarters those first days with guilt etched into the lines of his weary face. His brown and blue set of eyes looked into Tony's, and his lips had pulled into something of a haunted grimace, and he said with no ounce of doubt, "This could have been over, had I aimed for the head."

The half of the Asgardians that Thanos had spared came to earth just a few months after; they filled in the broken pieces of a fractured glass Wakanda that had been devastated by the loss of their king. It was an intellectual gathering, more than anything, a concoction of mad sciences that would yield more together than apart. Steve Rogers kept in touch with them, eyes and ears waiting to be sated by something fruitful, about Thanos and his whereabouts.

They didn't need flip phones because they lived down the hallway from each other, and sometimes when Tony wasn't pouring through information with Bruce, he was letting the captain talk his ear off about world news that might matter if Tony would let it. With every passing day, the Sokovia Accords became a relic, something from the old world. The fight in Germany almost didn't feel real anymore. But it was, and it had been the catalyst in meeting a young man from Queens who loved Alt-J and Star Wars.

The scroll bar on the missing children's pages Tony's accrued is so tiny, he can barely see it on his screen. He sits there at the kitchen table while Morgan sits on his lap and slams blocks around like a tiny radioactive dinosaur. And he's tired and regretful as every face seems to blur and morph into Peter's (his goofy shirts, his awful Mets hat, the fifth Jansport backpack that month). Pepper makes Tony coffee, rubs his shoulders, makes breakfast for their daughter. He looks at both of them every day and reminds himself he doesn't deserve them.

Rhodey brings updates from Ross, as an exasperated courtesy more than anything.

Tony also cares very fucking little about that, too. Natasha is in full agreement.

Oh, and the raccoon stuck around, too. Two years, and Tony Stark made friends with a kleptomaniac trash panda who lost almost every person he's ever come to love, and the blue chick might as well be counted among the lost, because she hit the atmosphere running and never stopped (but if there's anyone Tony would bet on for killing Thanos through hate alone, Nebula might be able to accomplish it before supper). Rocket heads out from time to time to try and find clues in the deep reaches of space — "Where's Thanos? Have you seen where he ran off to? Where's that ugly son of a b—" And you know, it ends about as successfully as the last time the little garbage bear rolls back in. Truth be told, he likes Rocket a lot. Good eye for tech, familiar snark used to push people away, a raging hate-boner for a certain mass murderer...

Ah, yes. The bastard who sacrificed his daughter, go fucking figure. Tony looks at Morgan's freckled face as he changes the umpteenth diaper that day and can't fathom the concept of being her end. It's horror fiction, the pages ripped out of books conjured to be nothing more than a terrible daydream of a bored writer. 

It's the same horror fiction where Peter clings to him sobbing for help, falling when his legs disintegrate underneath him. 

Tony looks for that kid everywhere, despite knowing exactly where he is.

He waves the photograph in Pepper's face, inches from her, the sharp juts of his fingernails biting into the Polaroid like dog teeth — (retroware, a camera found in a dumpster, delicately and lovingly re-mantled into a working camera, pictures snapped in quiet labs on lazy Sundays where Tony pretends the kid shouldn't be there) — but Pepper just looks at him like he's a wild man, and maybe he is, with owlish imploring eyes and unkempt hair, but nobody is listening, they just talk about their day and nobody is looking at this kid in this photograph: the kid with the curvy brown hair and pinching, smiling eyes and thin lips, he's only a kid, he's missing, does nobody see that? But Pepper just puts her hands up at the sides of her head and shrugs like he's out of his mind, and she's talking about being behind schedule —

"Tony, honey, there's nothing there — I don't know what you want me to see." And she is getting progressively more furious at him, because there's nothing, but he can clearly see this teenaged boy's face looking back at him when he turns the image back to himself: he's in the lab, Tony took the picture (say cheese, and the kid said provolone, because he's a massive nerd, but Tony would have done it too, so what does that make him), and no, Peter's not in the lab, he's not anywhere. Not in the ground, not in an urn, not standing on his feet, not stuck to his hands.

"No. No no no, look at him, why - why are you not looking at him?" Tony asks, curled fingers pecking over the shirt on his chest, right where his blue heart used to be, and he's so fucking angry that Happy said it Pepper said it Steve said it Everyone says it, the same thing, different voices: "It's a black box, Tony. It's just a black box. The picture's not developed. Something got screwed up, sorry."

He looks at the photo again and wants to see a black box, wants this to just end, but he knows it can't. In the Polaroid, the kid is tied to a chair in sweltering heat in the middle east, under the shadow of cave walls, streaked with mud and blood and wet from torture, and Tony has it on good authority the human body was not made to live in the sea, not made to breathe the deep dark waters in a two-foot basin of murky water. But Pepper looks right through the photo every time and asks him if he's remembered to water the ugly office plant she put on his desk — he shoves it off and it smashes all over, dirt underfoot crunching with the same texture as Titan. The desk is covered in nothing but Polaroids of every waking fear he's had, but they all swear on their lives—

"They're all just black boxes."

He wakes up with a strangled sound of panic, the sheets ripped out from under Pepper's soft pale arms, and she darts awake alongside him with little choice in the matter. He isn't sure how to even begin to explain the nightmare, so he doesn't, which seems adequate enough for her at this point; she instead rakes kind fingernails over his scalp and he lets himself rest in his own sweat, until eventually it dries up with her ability to stay awake with him. But there's no sleeping now. Which is fine, because not an hour later Morgan's crying in a crib that Tony doesn't let leave their room. She's smart — not quite two yet, but she's got an eye for how to get what she wants. She slaps her hands on the bars like she's a chubby convict and says, "Juice!" like she hasn't already had enough juice in the day to turn into a berry.

"... I got her," he says with feigned exasperation, but more than anything, he just wants to hold onto the kid and remind himself she won't crumble into dust. He walks her through the hallways and stares out large windows, places where the memory of Peter Parker ghosts the halls in Tony's mind. He stands where Peter watched in boyish awe as the jets took off — where he'd lead him down a path towards reports and a new suit. Regrets dance like spots in his vision. Run along now, young buck. 

He misses the others, too. He thinks about them often, wants to get them back from the jaws of death.

But everyone knows Peter is a special case, for him. A special mission set aside to complete.

There's an aunt across the city that somehow manages to get up and go to work every day. She's all that's left of a family she'd married into — the last Parker, putting unopened Christmas and birthday presents in a room that hasn't been touched in two fucking years. Tony doesn't know how she does it, after the Parkers and her husband's death; perhaps it's not always the abundance of loss that breaks someone; perhaps it's the abundance of loss that helps steel them for the next blow.

Either way, he gives her as many promises as he can muster, and she just nods like she can actually trust him.

"If it isn't the terrible terror," Rocket slurs from the end of the walkway, as he rounds the bend. Tony can't believe his eyes; he's sure there must be some youtube video out there of a raccoon holding a vodka bottle, but seeing it in person is another thing altogether. The short-statured creature adds, "Not the gremlin baby, I mean you."

"Robbet!" Morgan says, gleeful and unaware of just how alike her and Rocket's walking performances would be toe-to-toe. 

Tony is less enthused.

"Did you — Did you fly back drunk?" And really, he's not one to talk after some of the stunts he pulled in his suits, but when he looks out the window there's a clearly tipped over spaceship on the front lawn of the headquarters, almost meeting the tarmac where the quinjet resides. 

Rocket wags a paw at him like he's nuts. "Seemed like the thing to do. You Terran nimrods are great at it."

"You could've hit the building, you jackass," he hisses, "There are people sleeping here you could've killed."

"Wouldn't be the worst way to go out on this stupid planet."

"You're so lucky I'm holding a toddler, or I'd kick you in the head."

"Bring it, old man." But the longer the squabbling goes, the more Rocket seems to completely lose whatever steam he has. They end up sitting right against the big glass windows, and Tony lets Morgan rub her grubby hands all over the panels, because he's pretty sure the cleaners here prefer her messes over the ones Tony leaves in the labs (you know, the ones that almost start fires). The kid eases something inside him, and he's not one to recommend having a kid as therapy (because it definitely didn't solve his panic over being a shit dad), but it at least keeps him grounded. Gives him perspective. Focus.

"Robbet," she commands, fidgeting with Rocket's ear. The raccoon's gotten used to the attention, so much so that he just lets it be, and Tony watches expectantly for words he knows are gonna come sooner or later. This isn't the first time Rocket's stumbled in like this, though he'd hesitate to say it's common enough for an AA meeting. 

"Nothin's out there, Stark," he says tiredly. "Thanos is in the wind after we pinned him in the rice terraces. Nebula's out there givin' her... I was gonna say blood, sweat, and tears, but I dunno how much of her is even left t'do that. But the universe is too damn big." He rubs his eyes tiredly in a way that is obscenely human. "We ain't ever gonna get the bastard, much less reverse the damage. I can't keep putting off..."

"Mourning?"

Rocket and Tony lock eyes for a moment, the billionaire's face unreadable.

Rocket looks away, and for once, he can't usher up a snarky, assholish retort. 

"Mourning."

And Tony could understand that much. The world has already been grieving and crying it out, but the Avengers? They haven't allowed themselves to do it. Scott's got his kid, and he's all his kid has now — the cops had found her wandering a park alone, crying for Ant-Man to save them, and Tony's paid for therapy but fuck if that always helps. Clint refuses funerals for the two children he and his wife lost, not until Tony can look him in the eye with complete certainty and say 'there's nothing else we can do'. And Tony is not gonna lie about that shit, not even for a moment. Steve always chases for Bucky, and Tony expects as much (both in a fond way, and in a resentful way that makes him wanna strangle the bastard; what, we can't all be perfect at making up)... He also talks about Wanda and Vision and Sam often, and the room always descends into pained silence by the time they both realize how many people they've lost.

"Sorry I called you a gremlin," Rocket suddenly says, and Tony's confused for a moment before he glances over and finds Morgan sitting between Rocket's legs, cupping his furry face in her hands like she's trying to figure out why his beard is so much more out of control than her father's. Suffice to say, the drunk raccoon eventually passes out against the window, and Natasha makes her cameo in the shaded moonlight long enough to click her tongue and heft the creature up. Usually it'd be a more violent affair, but he's so out cold, he doesn't even so much as twitch.

"I'll get him in the recovery position, I guess," she says with a quirk of her brow. 

One time he'd asked her in a moment of admittedly godawful anger how she managed to be a stone-faced robot in the wake of all of this; she had slammed him down onto a table and said it was the hardest thing someone can ever do.

"Could always throw him into a tree," is his reply, and she smirks — but tucks Rocket in, regardless.

They're all he's got now.

Two weeks later, Captain Marvel gives them the location of Thanos.

One week after, Thanos is dead and Bruce and Tony are staring at the melted, twisted remains of a gauntlet adorned with six stones.

It's a full month, when the snap is finally undone.

"W-what the flying fuck just happened?"

Probably not the most eloquent way Peter Jason Quill, Star-Lord and fearless leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy, could have reclaimed his life and body, but that's the way it happened. One moment his sinking despair had been blown away in the wind with the rest of his crumbled body; the next, he's gasping for air like a newborn baby with his hands on his chest — unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel helpless and lost. Then his name comes back to him, his age, where he's from, followed by the first of many memories: his mother and him, making cookies with The Rolling Stones blaring on an old radio in the background. 

Then all of it follows like a stampede trampling over each other: the ravagers, Ego, celebrations full of booze and old 70's and 80's hits with his team; he groans pitifully and remembers too suddenly that his mother is dead, Yondu is dead, Gamora is dead — and then he cries like he's never cried before in his goddamn life. Like, full-bodied sobbing, harder than he's ever allowed himself in the last thirty years. His fingers curl in rough alien soil and every nerve in his body is alight with something he can't really explain, leaving him shivering. When all is said and done, it's cathartic, but his head is pounding and his eyes are red and wet and — and his legs don't want to work, exactly, so he drags himself into sitting and stares all around him with a helpless, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Where are the others? 

Drax crawls out from behind the rubble with a bit-back curse as if summoned by Peter's sheer will alone, and Strange floats down from god knows where. Both of them wipe their faces and breathe like they'd just run a marathon, one you'd sprint for — to try and escape the returning memories. The questions bubbling under the surface can wait (when, why, how, who, where; where the fuck is Thanos so I can kick his head in and ignore the aching guilt of the stupid shit I've done). Peter's lips curl into a relieved grin despite himself and he staggers to his feet, rushing to meet Drax before the lumbering warrior can collapse on his knees; he steadies the two of them, and between four colt-like legs, they make it work until they can move on their own. 

"Drax, holy shit. I'm so happy to see you right now, I saw you and — where's Mantis? And... Stark and the kid?" 

He's not gonna pretend the last two weren't cliff notes in his order of priorities, compared to Mantis. That's his sister, his family, and his heart is pounding at the thought of losing anyone else from his team... because Gamora's so fresh in his mind, an abrasion so new and raw and — don't think about it, Quill, don't think about it right now, not until you can make it to a ship and find somewhere to lick the wounds. It's so hard to breathe, so hard to keep his memories in check. Judging from the pinched expression Drax has, he can only imagine the miserable television show going on in that thick skull of his. He had family, he had a life, a home, and now it's all coming back in thunderous waves. 

Drax perks. "I hear her. This way!"

And like clockwork, Mantis sobs more loudly from over the hill of debris, and Peter is already leaping over and down it, displacing rubble in his wake. It claws him up as he goes, but what's one more injury if it means getting to his team sooner? Add another wound to the dozens lanced in his heart, whatever, he can take it. What he can't take is finding someone he loves gone again because he wasn't good enough—

("I love you, more than anything.")

"Mantis! Shit, dammit — hang on, we're coming, hang on!" He skids to a stop at the bottom with Drax hot on his heels, and it's only there that he's relieved to find she's unhurt, curled up and sitting on her legs; her back is trembling, hands poised in front of her — no, no, hands pressed to the temples of a crumpled figure with shaggy brown hair and a terribly youthful face. He swallows hard at the sight, guilt coiling in his guts, because he had made this kid a footnote in his concerns all but fifteen seconds ago.The other Peter.

("Peter, huh? Samesies!" the spider kid laughs.)

The kid is on his back, and his eyes are open, face lax under Mantis' shivering fingertips. Quill automatically assumes the worst: that he didn't make it, because even if his skin has a healthy color, he doesn't look alive. Why didn't... he come back, too? What went wrong? Crouching down beside his friend, he examines the boy and his listless gaze that looks right through him, right through everything. A death stare. He's seen so many in his life — from ravagers and enemy alike — that he doesn't question it further than that.

"... Mantis, it's okay," he says softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He's gone. We gotta move."

"No, no, Peter," she weeps, freezing him with her desperation, "You're wrong. He's still here. I can feel him. But th-there's so much pain — something is wrong, and it hurts."

"She's right," Strange says with a surprisingly soft voice, "He's still breathing."

Quill watches with wide eyes the rise and fall of the kid's chest, and then the surprising drip of tears into the shells of Peter's ears.

"It hurts," Mantis says again, black hair curtaining her pained expression. "He's further and further away. I can't do anything. He is so afraid."

Peter Parker's eyes are open, half-lidded, without any sign of life behind them. But Quill feels like every word Mantis sobs is a memory he can't quite bring into focus... like — like a dream he'd forgotten in the time he'd been nothing but ash. Like a beacon, scrambling all of his senses and blinding him just before he had burst back to life from under the current of death. He remembers a snippet of what it was like on the other side, rolling over and over like he's stuck in a sea — a sea of souls. He remembers it was the kid's voice, calling out from oblivion as they were hoisted back into their bodies.

He remembers hearing his own voice... remembers saying, thinking, screaming: Hang on, kid, I got you!

— it hurts, it hurts, it hurts—

He puts his hand gently on Peter Parker's cheek.

It's warm. His body breathes in steady rhythm.

So why isn't there any life behind those eyes?

The lab is quiet, save for the rambling of an excited high-schooler bragging about their odds at the new decathlon competition. Tony doesn't really mind so much, though he's not about to tell that to the kid sitting there in his old thrift shop sweater; the same kid whose hair is curling out of control now, escaping the prison of hair gel he adds in the early morning. Peter's always so animated with his hands, most of all — always fidgeting, always moving, always so eager to sign and gesture faster than Peter's mouth can move.  "And Ned's got a brand new video-game he's dying to try out, but I dunno if he can handle it; it's a horror game, you know? He's kind of a big softy — oh."

Tony glances at Peter with a scoff and a raised eyebrow, though his smirk fades a little at what has drawn the kid's already battered attention span from the conversation. Peter holds an old trophy in front of him that he had taken off the nearest shelf: a replica, actually, but still no less important. It's the arc reactor, etched with those intimate, familiar words that Pepper still whispers to him when they're alone and living in their own little world.

"Aaww, look at that," Peter says with a playful smile, pressing the trophy against his chest, where the reactor would've resided in Tony's.  "... Proof that Tony Stark has a heart."

Peter's smile softens painfully, his eyes reflecting a long and sad goodbye before he crumbles away into nothing.

#tony stark #peter parker #mcu #infinity war #mantis (marvel) #drax the destroyer #peter quill #rocket racoon #irondad #spiderson #mcu fanfic #ehsfanfic #sorry guys i was gonna be lazy and not back this story up here #but i changed me mind

[tjroewrites]

The Spider’s Web

Pairings: filmnoir!Castiel x Reader

A/N: This oneshot actually fills two prompts. One for @sparklingcas‘s “Pick-Up Line Challenge” and another to fill a square for @spnangstbingo. The square I filled for this one was ‘Black Widow,’ and the pick-up line was ‘Do you know it’s unlucky to be so good looking and not have anyone to kiss at midnight?’ I didn’t want to write about spiders. Bo-ring. So, naturally, I came up with a film noir alternate universe. That’s a normal reaction, right? 

Warnings: Angst. Blood. Death. Angst. Non-explicit sex. It ain’t happy hour over here. Did I already say angst? 

Summary: Detective Cas Novak knows he’s one the best. He’s quick. Clever. Good with his words and plays well with guns. But when upper-class suits start dropping in Chicago beneath the barrel of a mysterious hired gun, Cas finds himself in something bigger than drug dealers and bank robbers. Are his wits and ego enough to bring down the killer? 

Word Count: 5k

           There were a few known facts about the Black Widow case. Worked for a price. Only moved at night.

            And there were ten bloody bodies on his hands.

            He had all of Chicago PD on their toes. The town on edge. Heads on the swivel. Mothers changing curfew from sundown to noon. Chicago was already something fierce. A bombshell blonde with looks to kill and the means to do it. But with Red Belly on the rise, no one was safe. They’d run the well dry. It was time to call in the cavalry.

            Cas Novak knew he was one of the best. When your stomping grounds was nothing but hop-heads and grifter’s prowling the Bronx district, you had to be. He could sniff a deal gone bad from a mile away. Dicks that didn’t have the touch had a bad habit of winding up face down in a ditch with lead poisoning. Lucky for him, he knew the tricks of the trade.

            The Chicago precinct was heavy. Dense, even. One step through the door and he had half a mind to check his coat pockets for dead weight. Desks were strewn around. Papers like carpet on the tile floor. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the place was ransacked. With the way one of the cops looked at him he might as well have been the robber.

            “Detective Novak?”

            “That’s what’s carved in my tin.”

            “Boss is waiting for you in his office.” He had more bags under his eyes than a housewife at the supermarket. His fingers drummed nonsense rhythms against his desk. “Office behind the wood door in the back. Can’t miss it.”

            “Much obliged.” Cas tipped his hat. He may as well have been see-through.

            Captain Smalls was anything but. Half the room was lit from the bulb reflecting from his head. Cas wasn’t even sure he’d heard him come in. A gasper dangled from his lips like he’d forgotten it was there.

            “You who they sent from the Bronx?” He didn’t even chance a glance in his direction. The file in front of him had earned every second of his time.

            “Cas Novak.” He set his briefcase in an empty chair and leaned over the back. “Glad to be of service.”

            “I’ll be more grateful when you pinch this bastard.” He handed him a file. It was meaty. “I’ve got a room full of chumps and a city scared shitless to leave their homes. No one’s getting home to their wives until I’ve got the up on this dropper.”

            “Good thing I live alone.”

            Smalls looked at him for the first time. Sized him up with a pair of eyes that were sunk to the back of his head. “They tell you anything over in New York?”

            “A bit. Ten guys layin’ stiff in Chicago overcoats and a couple of by-standers.”

            “You’ve heard it all.” He sighed. “That file there’s got the wire on the vics. Hardly a damn thing on the perp.”

            “The witnesses have anything to say?”

            “Same story, different street. Red gloves. Black duds. A one-slug-and-done kinda guy.”

            “Anything on the slugs?”

“10mm. Pistol’s a popular toy under these streetlights.”

            “Likes to play it quiet.” Cas flipped through the stills. All wide-eyed and pale white. Didn’t even know what was coming. Poor saps. “What’s the connection between them?”

            “All upper-stands type of fellas. Big pockets and plenty to show for it.” He took a long drag from his butt and let the smoke drift out nice and slow. “We gotta hit it hard if we wanna find him ‘fore his next drop. I’ve got you working with Hartley on this. He’s been handling intel on the Black Widow for months, now.”

            “I can handle my own.” Cas shut the file and grabbed his suitcase. “But I’ll play ball if you’re pitchin’.”

            “Your head dick mentioned you might say that.” Smalls snuffed out his butt in the ash tray. There was hardly any room left. “This ain’t another episode of Big Town, son. You’re hittin’ the major league over here. Trigger men don’t play a fool in these parts. You go in this alone, you’ll end up getting burned.”

            “I’ll remember that when I’m toastin’ mellows over this goon’s gourd.” He didn’t let the door hit him on the way out.

            Cas Novak was a lot of things. Hard-boiled. Persistent. More apt to reach for his holster before opening his mouth. But if there was one thing he wasn’t, it was a rookie. He was a damn good detective. The best.

            And he’d do anything to prove it.

            Snow was a good look over the Chicago city scape. Really made her curves and edges stand out underneath the early-December moon. He was making his usual walk back to his motel from the precinct. Nobody around but him and his shadow. Not a single porch light flickered along the street. Every window sealed up tight with a set of shutters. He’d been here two god damn weeks with not a damn thing to show for it. Nothing but a full ash tray and a worn case file. The gloss finish on the stills had impressions from his thumbprint.

           Cas had to hand it to him: the Black Widow was one slick son of a bitch. Had no enemies ‘cause all of them were dead. Slipped through the cracks like a shot of scotch on the rocks. Smooth. Graceful. Made quick and clean work of his victims. Most grifter’s back in the Apple hid in plain sight. Ran gambling rings under the laundromat. More aliases than a theatre troop. But the Black Widow… he’d spun his web in the shadows. Strung it deep in hard to reach places. The only way to cuff this bastard was to find him, first.

           He walked past the same corner pub every night on his way back. The neon ‘open’ sign was like its own star on the Broadway city walk. If it didn’t have it, Cas would’ve assumed it to be shut up tight. He’d never seen a single drunk walk in or out of the front door. But that neon star wasn’t the only thing lighting up the sky tonight.

           She was all gentle curves and gams for days. That red dress of hers hugged all the right places, tight at the waist and pooled at her kitten heels. Ten pounds of sugar in a five-pound sack, all right. That ‘open’ sign was like a halo over her Y/H/C locks of love. Red stained lips wrapped around her cigarette like it was an old friend as she eyed him under her lashes.

           “You’re the first soul I’ve seen since the dinner bell.” The woman smiled behind a cloud of smoke. He slowed his roll but didn’t stop. “Must be something important to be braving these streets at this time of night.”

           “Just passing through.” He stepped under the overhang. “I’ve got a room over on Walton.”

           “Knickers?”

           “That’s the one.”

           She said nothing. Put every ounce of effort into another long, slow drag. She left a red stain on the butt when she pulled it away. “You ever been inside? A lot warmer than it is out here.”

           “Not much of the drinking type.”

           “Shame. My songs sound a bit smoother when it’s paired with a shot of bourbon.”

           “You the songbird around here?”

           “One of my many hobbies.”

           “I bet you’ve got all sorts of talents you ain’t sharin’.”

           He got a smile for that one. Her head tapped the glass behind her as a small chuckle shook her chest. “Well, Mr.- “

           “-Novak. Cas Novak.”

           “Mr. Novak.” She took one last puff before crushing the light under the toe of her shoe. “Ronnie’ll have my pretty little head if I’m late from break again.” She pushed off from the window and flipped that mane of hers over her shoulder. She paused a moment before heading inside. “You sure you can’t stop in for a few songs? A little birdy told me the next set won’t disappoint.”

           Cas chuckled. “Maybe tomorrow. Can’t remember the last time I slept a full four hours.”

           “Alright.” She gave him a good up-and-down before the door hinges started screaming. Her red skirt blew from the bar draft and let the ankle bit of her stocking peak out from underneath. Lord only knew where that deep seam along her calf lead to.

           “Wait, doll.” She stopped between the threshold. “I never caught your name.”

           Her smile was good enough to kill. “Y/N.” She slipped in a bit further. “See you tomorrow night, Mr. Novak.”

           And she did. He found his way back the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Until he was following his own footprints left in the snow along that city sidewalk. Until that shade of crimson red was his favorite color. Y/N was anything but ordinary in that red gown.

           But Cas preferred it on his motel floor.

           “Novak.” His head snapped up from his desk, lost between the lines of an eye witness log. He spared a glance at the desk next to him. Hartley was snoring into his hand. Smalls waved him over with those sausages sewed to his wrist. A cigarette burned between two of them. The brute probably had Pall Mall’s brand pressed into the skin.

           “You found some kind of lead?” Cas asked the moment his door clicked shut. Smalls was wagging his finger like he was scolding his brat.

           “Even better.” He jabbed a sausage into a piece of paper on his desk. He let his gasper sit between his barely-there lips. “I know the Widow’s next move.”

           “How in God’s name you figure that? We don’t even know what tone of hair he’s got.”

           “Anonymous tip called in. Someone snitched.” Cas picked up the paper and made out the writing. ‘Masquerade Ball, Arlen Glass.’ “Black Widow’s plannin’ a drop at the New Year’s ball.”

           “Arlen Glass’ gig? The goose that plays high pillow of Glass Factories?”

           Smalls hummed a toneless note. His smug grin showed no bounds.

           “Guess he’s high-stakes enough.” In the last three years alone, Glass Factories had staked claims nationwide in nearly every worth-knowing city on the map. Mostly centered around kids toys. Train sets. Tea sets and the dolls to go with it. You name it, he’s made it. The chap probably had a home between every ocean but mostly operated out of Chicago. Money wasn’t an issue. And he wasn’t afraid to make it known. This New Year’s Masquerade ball was his latest attempt to spread his sugar. Only problem was, you needed a golden ticket to get in. And Cas didn’t have many friends around here. “Don’t suppose you’re up close and personal with Glass Factory himself.”

           “You let me handle that.” Smalls breathed in that smoke like it was a lifeline. “You and Hartley worry about gettin’ your suit’s tailored. Ball’s in three days and you’re both goin’ in.”

           Small’s request played through his head like a mantra the rest of the day. This was his big break. The case of all cases. Black Widow was the most notorious hired gun on this side of the states. He cuffed this guy, he could cuff any prick that looked twice in his direction. Smalls was right: this was the big leagues. And Cas was pining to be MVP.

           “Something’s got you bugged.” The hotel bedroom was thick with smoke from the stove and the bit of Y/N’s Lucky Strike between her fingers. She twirled those same fingers in meaningless patterns across his bare chest. “You’re different tonight.”

           “How do ya figure?” He stole her cigarette and took a drag.

           “Your body’s here with me but your brain’s halfway to Mars.”

           “Noodle’s probably pretty jealous right now.”

           She untucked her head from his shoulder and gave him that half-lidded stare. She could give a man a heart attack with those Y/E/C eyes. They held something fierce. Something bold. Like she could read the ribbons of his DNA with a mere flick of her gaze. “You gonna waltz around the issue all night or are you gonna cut to the two step?”

           “I’ve never been much of a dancer.”

           “Then open those talented lips of yours and start singing.”

           Cas sighed. He hadn’t told Y/N much about the case. She knew he was a cop, sure. He made damn certain she knew that. But he’d kept the details brief about the Black Widow case. Hardly scratched the surface. Cas had seen what happened to dames that knew too much about their copper’s line of work. They always drowned. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

           “Care to elaborate?”  

           She turned under his arm and propped herself up on an elbow, letting her head rest in her palm as she waited oh-so-patiently. Her eyes said something different.

“With this case…” He began.

           “The Black Widow.” She said. He reached for her cigarette again. “Go on.”

           “Smalls thinks he’s got something. Something big. Something that could land this goon behind bars and land me at the top.” The nicotine went smooth through his lungs. Like silk. “It just all seems too good to be true. Too many questions, not enough answers.”  

           “You think it’s a set-up?”

           “I don’t know what I think.” Cas stared out the open window. It’d been snowing all week, non-stop sleet tearing through the city, but tonight a few stars had started peeking through the thick blankets overhead. He hated winter. Made him feel slower than molasses when he was strolling on foot. He’d make it to California one day. “Don’t matter in the end. Whatever his angle I’m takin’ him down. Either him or me. And I’ll be damned if I don’t go down as one of the best.”

           “There you go saying that again. ‘One of the best.’” She got one more puff from that gasper before shoving it into the ash tray on the end table. “You’re always on about that. There a reason or you just the power-hungry type?”

           Cas was good. Hated by few. Loved by most. Feared by all. He fought tooth and nail and had a silver tongue when he needed it. Detective work was like riding a bike. It only gets easier every time you hop on that seat. But it hadn’t always been that way. No one’s born with God-given knowledge on how to work the pedals. He started out in the rookie league just like everyone else. Only for him, he got a bit more than a shot to the knee or a diamond-eye shiner from his first time in the field.

           They’d killed his girl.

           Abigail. Abigail Brooks. A gorgeous dame paired with hips as sweet as honey. Every head in the Bronx district turned when they heard those red heels clip against the sidewalk. Those same eyes would roll when they peaked at the arm pulling her close. Those three years had felt like ten thousand lifetimes. There were plenty of bombshells strutting along the curb but nothing came close to Abby. He was nothing but a rookie dick in the slums. She was a red-head beauty that made her own way. He never deserved her for a second. And when ol’ Red Summer’s had her offed over on Eighth Street he’d never felt more beat in his entire life. He hadn’t been in the force more than six months and Summers’ had everything yanked from under him. His love. His life. His pride.

           He’d never get caught slipping ever again.

           Cas could tell Y/N. Could tell her the real reason he pins to be the best fucking cop this entire world has ever seen. Lay it all out like cards on a table and show her a royal flush. Might make it all easier for her to understand instead of giving her the run-around. But he didn’t have a good hand tonight. Nothing worth showing to the dealer. “Wouldn’t call me a power-shark.”

           “Then what are you?”

           Her hair was like leaves in the fall. Scattered. No rhyme or reason. He tucked a few pieces behind her ear and smiled when she shivered. “Just a man.”

           When she rolled on top of him it felt like a dream. Like she wasn’t real. Perfectly sculpted, a blush dusting her cheeks like the snow outside. Picasso himself couldn’t come up with a more beautiful sight. She wasn’t doing anything but his body was reacting like a damn machine. “Just a man?” Music to his ears. Like an orchestra of winds and strings molding together in perfect harmony. She let her fingers dance down his chest until the conductor found her bouton. “You’re anything but.”

           She crashed over him like a gentle wave. With purpose. Rhythm. The passion of a thousand women but the touch of a silk ribbon. They came together like two broken pieces of glass. Sharp, jagged, a bit painful but somehow right. She was so warm in his arms. So soft. A beacon in this dark world he’d been living in. He’d been sitting on the edge for so long, but beside her there wasn’t anything to fear from it. When she pushed him from the cliff he fell with a cry but was enveloped by a force so much more than the abyss he’d stared at for so long. He didn’t see Abigail. The Black Widow. His old neighborhood. All of those faces he’d grown up with staring back at him with glazed eyes from a pool of red. There was only Y/N; her fingernails grazing his jaw and the ends of her hair tickling his chest. Words couldn’t do his feelings any sort of justice under those cheap motel sheets.

           So he rolled her under him instead.

           Glass’ digs were shut up tighter than Fort Knox.

           Big fists at every door. Packing heat under their overcoats. He’d seen some paranoid big-wigs in his day, but nothing quite like this. If Capone wasn’t serving time on the Rock he’d think the legend himself had stashed himself away inside.

           Cas’d had his doubts. Smalls didn’t seem like the type of man to have any kind of friends, women or men alike. Let alone a card shark like Glass. But that was part of the mystery of Captain Benny Smalls. The man could pull miracles out of a pile of ash. And boy, did those two masquerade invitations glitter like diamonds in the rough. ‘Remember what I says about goin’ alone,’ the egg had said. ‘Don’t make you any braver shootin’ a rifle one-handed.’  

           He’d always preferred a pistol, anyway.

           Nothing but rows of Lincoln’s and Plymouth armor’s blinked back at him when he hit the scene, his suit freshly pressed and his masquerade mask sitting pretty over his nose. Central Park served as his front yard while the mansion yelled a combination of a hundred loud, rich voices. Women dripping with diamonds and gold hung on their wallet’s arms, giggling into their snow white gloves between sips of champagne. It was the kind of party you’d hear about on the Sunday evening radio program; some well-off Wall Street type with the reputation to match. Cas stood on the brick walk leading to the entry and thought about how perfect Y/N would fit in with this crowd. One glimpse of that red gown under these lights and the entire room would hit their knees. But he wouldn’t drag another dame back into the fire. He couldn’t. He’d call her tomorrow, he’d said. Her face had screwed up a bit at first but eventually fell into that sultry smirk that always made him dizzy. She had a few things to take care of, anyway. Yeah, he’d call her tomorrow.

           Every head-honcho on this side of the states was packed in the main ballroom. Diamond heels clicked against the marble floor. Husbands sported a Cuban cigar between rows of gold rings. A sea of black dresses and dark suits. Cas reached up to straighten his own black tie and adjust his jacket. Red gloves should be easy enough to spot at a black and white ball.

           He made his way around the room three times before giving up on the main crowd. Glass wasn’t anywhere to be found. He’d bet his money he was stashing himself on the second floor. Guess Glass thought the Black Widow might have the same idea.

           “You lost?” Two peaks of the Himalayas stepped in front of him, completely blocking the spiral staircase from view. “Party’s down here.”

           “Oh, c’mon fellas, guy’s gotta take a leak.”

           “Bathroom’s on the other end of the ballroom. Can’t miss it.”

           “Some drunk’s locked himself in there for the past twenty minutes. And that champagne you got flowin’ is snakin’ right through me.” He thanked whatever God was up above they couldn’t see through his jacket. A thin line of sweat was finding its way on his skin. It was the middle of July in the Sahara Desert under his mask.

           The mountains looked at each other. A silent language among hired hands. The first one sighed. “You got five minutes.” He nodded at Mount Everest and he started making his way through the crowd. Probably to check on the make-believe drunk in the other bathroom. He would be in a world full of hurt if that brute came back empty handed. He’d have to work fast.

           “Woah, slow your roll there.” A bundle of calluses planted firm against his chest when he tried to pass. “Can’t take any chances these days.”

           Being pat down by a woman in the bedroom was one thing. Getting one from a bodyguard at a big-wigs ball party was something different entirely. It was like getting punched by a boxer on every square inch of your person. At the top of the stairs Cas did a quick once-over on the hall and reached under the waistband of his trousers. His pistol glistened under the chandelier above the stairs.

           “Sorry, Maria,” he tucked it away in his suit jacket pocket. “Only spot those thugs won’t go.”

           He moved quick. Checked every room on the second floor. Not a soul in sight. He had been keeping a mental check of how long he’d been up there but it was starting to get fuzzy. Two minutes? Three minutes? Four? Whatever the case, he had no time. He was a fish out of water. Gasping for air. The clock was ticking and Father Time wasn’t waiting for no one.

           They appeared like God himself had put them there. Two French doors, taking up the entire end of the hallway. The trim was caked with gold flakes, swirling in patterns fit for a King of Persia. One of them was open. His heart pounded just a bit harder under the buttons of his shirt.

           Jackpot.

           Maria trembled in his palm, her butt a bit slick in his grip. He flipped the safety as he nudged open the door, playing cat and mouse with the heel of his dress shoes. Everything in the room was white. White carpet. White bedding. White headboard. White walls. A bright white that made your eyes burn out when you looked a bit too long. For a foolish moment he was convinced he’d died and stepped into heaven. The sharp blow to the back of his head proved otherwise.

           That white room faded to black in a blink.

           When he came to he was sprawled out like a broken vase on the white carpet with his head pounding in all directions. Speckles of crimson blood were scattered around his head. His own blood. He touched the back of his head and hissed. Pretty nasty spot. Probably from the butt of a gun. A pistol, maybe. As if on cue, said pistol’s safety clicked somewhere behind him.

           “Guess I shouldn’t be expecting that call tomorrow, huh?”

           Every working muscle and fiber inside of Cas shut down at the same time. Like a factory’s inner workings when the generator blows. Like a Chevy when the battery’s cut. He didn’t want to see it with his own two eyes. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it was coincidence. He was drugged on the ballroom floor and was having some kind of induced nightmare. But there was nothing coincidental about those thick hips and the red gloves pulled over her fingers.

           Y/N.

           “Should’ve left it alone, Mr. Novak.” Gone was that red dress that caught his eye so many weeks ago. Deep black fabric stretched tight around her curves, following every line of those elegant pins that felt sinful under his hands. Her painted lips pulled into her killer smirk. “Now look where it’s got ya.”

           Sense had drained from his head a long time ago. A thousand questions ran through his mind. Why did she do it? Had this been the plan all along? Was he always the chump? “Where’s Glass?” He asked instead.

           “He’s taking a little nap in the bathroom before his big entrance.” Her gaze roamed toward the open threshold on the other side of the room to make her point. The bathroom mirror was split down the middle but still did its job. Could barely see half of the bathtub through the pieces. But the red stains on the porcelain white was plain as day. “I’m sure no one will mind.”

           “The guards at the stairs. How did you- “

           “How did I slip on through?” She chuckled. A dark, deep sound. “Let’s just say those lumbering brutes have… invested interests.”

           “They work for you.”

           “Glass was a lot of things. Slimy. Worthless. A cheapskate.” Cas searched the floor for any sign of Maria. Not a trace. “But the one thing he wasn’t was paranoid. Thought the entire world was rooting for him. I’s just here to give him a teeny tiny wakeup call.”

           “And, what, they watch your back while you take ‘em out?”

           “My clients pay top dollar for excellent work. They’re there to make sure I get off without a hitch.”

           “Guess they didn’t count on me showing up.”

           Y/N smiled. Not like she did behind a Lucky Strike wrapped in downy sheets. No, not like that. This was something evil. The type of grin grifter’s would flash when they managed to fix another angle. The same one he’d wiped clean off of Summers’ fat face when he’d put him down for good. “Actually, Mr. Novak, we’ve been expecting you.”

           His lips moved but nothing came out. No words. No sounds. This whole scene was one big joke and he’d missed the punch line. Hell, he was the tail-end of it all. Her teeth matched the white doors behind her.

           “You see; Mr. Glass was the original job. A past employee was a bit miffed that his former employer had screwed his pooch. So, a couple flour sacks of Franklins and a few meet-ups later, and the deal was arranged. But you-” She bent down until she was nearly eye level with him. He didn’t know whether to look at that matte black suppressor or her pitch black stare. “You were the grand prize.”

           Cas took a shaky breath. He tried to sit up but his head had other ideas. He fell back onto his elbows. “Why me?”

           “You killed my husband.” She spat the venom at him. A snake confronting its prey. “I had a good life ‘fore you came along. You took him from me. It’s time to settle the score.”

           “Your husband?” Cas had only killed a few men in his time on the force. A deranged snow bunny during a deal gone bad. An escapee from the big house that had been using some poor broad as a human shield. Then, of course, there was the icing on the cake…

           Cas might has well have been shot in the chest. “Summers.” He whispered. He’d been sleeping with the devil’s dame this whole time. He thought he’d been getting dizzy from her sweet lips when all he was getting was a buzz from the bullshit. She’d been playing him like a finely-tuned fiddle.

           Y/N rose from the floor and lifted up her skirt. A holster sat firm around her thigh with the pocket facing in. Maria was nice and snug where he had been only a day before. “Times are tough, Mr. Novak.” The skirt fell like rain during a hurricane. “The world’s a cruel place. If you’re caught slipping, there’s nowhere left to go but six feet under.”

           Smalls’ warning was like a broken record in his throbbing head. ‘You go in this alone, you’ll end up getting burned.’ He might have been able to walk out of there if he’d listened. Let Hartley take that second invite and bring up the rear. But he’d let that bridge burn hours ago. The Black Widow had spun a web and he’d flown right into it. He was nothing but dinner. “Do you know it’s unlucky to be so good lookin’ and not have anyone to kiss at midnight?”

“I’ve never been superstitious.” She checked the clip and pulled the safety.

“So, this isn’t the part where I slip the glass slipper on and a carriage whisks us away?”

           “Not quite.” He looked deep into the middle of that suppressor when she pointed it between his eyes. “This ain’t a fairytale and I’m no Cinderella. This story only has one ending.” Somewhere behind him, a grandfather clock chimed midnight. He’d always known that smirk of hers could kill. Just not like this.

           There were a few known facts about the Black Widow case. Worked for a price. Only moved at night.

           And there were twelve bloody bodies on her hands.

Castiel tags: 

@kristendanwayne @pixiedusts 

#spnangstbingo #katies pick-up line challenge #supernatural #spn #one shot #spn one shot #angst #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x y/n #film noir #noir #castiel #the readstiel collection

[readbookywooks]

'I didn't know that. I thought gods were just gods.' 'They don't like it talked about,' said Cutwell, shuffling through the heap of books and parchments on his worktable. 'Well, that might work for gods, because they're special,' said Mort. 'People are – more solid. It wouldn't work for people.' That's not true. Let's suppose you went out of here and prowled around the palace. One of the guards would probably see you and he'd think you were a thief and he'd fire his crossbow. I mean, in his reality you'd be a thief. It wouldn't actually be true but you'd be just as dead as if it was. Belief is powerful stuff. I'm a wizard. We know about these things. Look here.' He pulled a book out of the debris in front of him and opened it at the piece of bacon he'd used as a bookmark. Mort looked over his shoulder, and frowned at the curly magical writing. It moved around on the page, twisting and writhing in an attempt not to be read by a non-wizard, and the general effect was unpleasant. 'What's this?' he said. 'It's the Book of the Magick of Alberto Malich the Mage,' said the wizard, 'a sort of book of magical theory. It's not a good idea to look too hard at the words, they resent it. Look, it says here —' His lips moved soundlessly. Little beads of sweat sprang up on his forehead and decided to get together and go down and see what his nose was doing. His eyes watered. Some people like to settle down with a good book. No-one in possession of a complete set of marbles would like to settle down with a book of magic, because even the individual words have a private and vindictive life of their own and reading them, in short, is a kind of mental Indian wrestling. Many a young wizard has tried to read a grimoire that is too strong for him, and people who've heard the screams have found only his pointy shoes with the classic wisp of smoke coming out of them and a book which is, perhaps, just a little fatter. Things can happen to browsers in magical libraries that make having your face pulled off by tentacled monstrosities from the Dungeon Dimensions seem a mere light massage by comparison. Fortunately Cutwell had an expurgated edition, with some of the more distressing pages clamped shut (although on quiet nights he could hear the imprisoned words scritching irritably inside their prison, like a spider trapped in a matchbox; anyone who has ever sat next to someone wearing a Walkman will be able to imagine exactly what they sounded like). 'This is the bit,' said Cutwell. 'It says here that even gods —' 'I've seen him before!' 'What?' Mort pointed a shaking finger at the book. 'Him!' Cutwell gave him an odd look and examined the left-hand page. There was a picture of an elderly wizard holding a book and a candlestick in an attitude of near-terminal dignity. 'That's not part of the magic,' he said testily, 'that's just the author.' 'What does it say under the picture?' 'Er, It says "Yff youe have enjoyed thiss Boke, youe maye be interestede yn othere Titles by —' 'No, right under the picture is what I meant!' 'That's easy. It's old Malich himself. Every wizard knows him. I mean, he founded the University.' Cutwell chuckled. There's a famous statue of him in the main hall, and during Rag Week once I climbed up it and put a —' Mort stared at the picture. 'Tell me,' he said quietly, 'did the statue have a drip on the end of its nose?' 'I shouldn't think so,' said Cutwell. 'It was marble. But I don't know what you're getting so worked up about. Lots of people know what he looked like. He's famous.' 'He lived a long time ago, did he?' 'Two thousand years, I think. Look, I don't know why —' 'I bet he didn't die, though,' said Mort. 'I bet he just disappeared one day. Did he?' Cutwell was silent for a moment. 'Funny you should say that,' he said slowly. There was a legend I heard. He got up to some weird things, they say. They say he blew himself into the Dungeon Dimensions while trying to perform the Rite of AshkEnte backwards. All they found was his hat. Tragic, really. The whole city in mourning for a day just for a hat. It wasn't even a particularly attractive hat; it had burn marks on it.' 'Alberto Malich,' said Mort, half to himself. 'Well. Fancy that.' He drummed his fingers on the table, although the sound was surprisingly muted. 'Sorry,' said Cutwell. 'I can't get the hang of treacle sandwiches, either.' 'I reckon the interface is moving at a slow walking pace,' said Mort, licking his fingers absent-mindedly. 'Can't you stop it by magic?' Cutwell shook his head. 'Not me. It'd squash me flat,' he said cheerfully. 'What'll happen to you when it arrives, then?' 'Oh, I'll go back to living in Wall Street. I mean, I never will have left. All this won't have happened. Pity, though. The cooking here is pretty good, and they do my laundry for free. How far away did you say it was, by the way?' 'About twenty miles, I guess.'. Cutwell rolled his eyes heavenwards and moved his lips. Eventually he said: 'That means it'll arrive around midnight tomorrow, just in time for the coronation.' 'Whose?' 'Hers.' 'But she's queen already, isn't she?' 'In a way, but officially she's not queen until she's crowned.' Cutwell grinned, his face a pattern of shade in the candlelight, and added, 'If you want a way of thinking about it, then it's like the difference between stopping living and being dead.' Twenty minutes earlier Mort had been feeling tired enough to take root. Now he could feel a fizzing in his blood. It was the kind of late-night, frantic energy that you knew you would pay for around midday tomorrow, but for now he felt he had to have some action or else his muscles would snap out of sheer vitality. 'I want to see her,' he said. 'If you can't do anything, there might be something I can do.' There's guards outside her room,' said Cutwell. 'I mention this merely as an observation. I don't imagine for one minute that they'll make the slightest difference.' It was midnight in Ankh-Morpork, but in the great twin city the only difference between night and day was, well, it was darker. The markets were thronged, the spectators were still thickly clustered around the whore pits, runners-up in the city's eternal and byzantine gang warfare drifted silently down through the chilly waters of the river with lead weights tied to their feet, dealers in various illegal and even illogical delights plied their sidelong trade, burglars burgled, knives flashed starlight in alleyways, astrologers started their day's work and in the Shades a nightwatch-man who had lost his way rang his bell and cried out: 'Twelve o'clock and all's arrrrrgghhhh, . . .' However, the Ankh-Morpork Chamber of Commerce would not be happy at the suggestion that the only real difference between their city and a swamp is the number of legs on the alligators, and indeed in the more select areas of Ankh, which tend to be in the hilly districts where there is a chance of a bit of wind, the nights are gentle and scented with habiscine and Cecillia blossoms. On this particular night they were scented with saltpetre, too, because it was the tenth anniversary of the accession of the Patrician[7] and he had invited a few friends round for a drink, five hundred of them in this case, and was letting off fireworks. Laughter and the occasional gurgle of passion filled the palace gardens, and the evening had just got to that interesting stage where everyone had drunk too much for their own good but not enough actually to fall over. It is the kind of state in which one does things that one will recall with crimson shame in later life, such as blowing through a paper squeaker and laughing so much that one is sick. In fact some two hundred of the Patrician's guests were now staggering and kicking their way through the Serpent Dance, a quaint Morporkian folkway which consisted of getting rather drunk, holding the waist of the person in front, and then wobbling and giggling uproariously in a long crocodile that wound through as many rooms as possible, preferably ones with breakables in, while kicking one leg vaguely in time with the beat, or at least in time with some other beat. This dance had gone on for half an hour and had wound through every room in the palace, picking up two trolls, the cook, the Patrician's head torturer, three waiters, a burglar who happened to be passing and a small pet swamp dragon. Somewhere around the middle of the dance was fat Lord Rodley of Quirm, heir to the fabulous Quirm estates, whose current preoccupation was with the thin fingers gripping his waist. Under its bath of alcohol his brain kept trying to attract his attention. 'I say,' he called over his shoulder, as they oscillated for the tenth hilarious time through the enormous kitchen, 'not so tight, please.' I AM MOST TERRIBLY SORRY. 'No offence, old chap. Do I know you?' said Lord Rodley, kicking vigorously on the back beat. I THINK IT UNLIKELY. TELL ME, PLEASE, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS ACTIVITY? 'What?' shouted Lord Rodley, above the sound of someone kicking in the door of a glass cabinet amid shrieks of merriment. WHAT is THIS THING THAT WE DO? said the voice, with glacial patience. 'Haven't you been to a party before? Mind the glass, by the way.' I AM AFRAID I DO NOT GET OUT AS MUCH AS I WOULD LIKE TO. PLEASE EXPLAIN THIS. DOES IT HAVE TO DO WITH SEX? 'Not unless we pull up sharp, old boy, if you know what I mean?' said his lordship, and nudged his unseen fellow guest with his elbow. 'Ouch,' he said. A crash up ahead marked the demise of the cold buffet. NO. 'What?' I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. 'Mind the cream there, it's slippery – look, it's just a dance, all right? You do it for fun.' FUN. 'That's right. Dada, dada, da – kick!' There was an audible pause. WHO IS THIS FUN? 'No, fun isn't anybody, fun is what you have.' WE ARE HAVING FUN? 'I thought I was,' said his lordship uncertainly. The voice by his ear was vaguely worrying him; it appeared to be arriving directly into his brain. WHAT is THIS FUN? 'This is!' TO KICK VIGOROUSLY IS FUN? 'Well, part of the fun. Kick!' TO HEAR LOUD MUSIC IN HOT ROOMS IS FUN? 'Possibly.' HOW IS THIS FUN MANIFEST? 'Well, it – look, either you're having fun or you're not, you don't have to ask me, you just know, all right? How did you get in here, anyway?' he added. 'Are you a friend of the Patrician?' LET US SAY, HE PUTS BUSINESS MY WAY. I FELT I OUGHT TO LEARN SOMETHING OF HUMAN PLEASURES. 'Sounds like you've got a long way to go.' I KNOW. PLEASE EXCUSE MY LAMENTABLE IGNORANCE. I WISH ONLY TO LEARN. ALL THESE PEOPLE, PLEASE – THEY ARE HAVING FUN? 'Yes!' THEN THIS is FUN. 'I'm glad we've got that sorted out. Mind the chair,' snapped Lord Rodley, who was now feeling very unfunny and unpleasantly sober. A voice behind him said quietly: THIS IS FUN. TO DRINK EXCESSIVELY IS FUN. WE ARE HAVING FUN. HE IS HAVING FUN. THIS IS SOME FUN. WHAT FUN. Behind Death the Patrician's small pet swamp dragon held on grimly to the bony hips and thought: guards or no guards, next time we pass an open window I'm going to run like buggery. Keli sat bolt upright in bed. 'Don't move another step,' she said. 'Guards!' 'We couldn't stop him,' said the first guard, poking his head shame-facedly around the doorpost. 'He just pushed in . . .' said the other guard, from the other side of the doorway. 'And the wizard said it was all right, and we were told everyone must listen to him because. 'All right, all right. People could get murdered around here,' said Keli testily, and put the crossbow back on the bedside table without, unfortunately, operating the safety catch.

#Mort