#I don’t have the emotional capacity to convey it in a non joking way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

call-sign-shark · 1 year ago

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FINALLY!I’ve been waiting so impatiently for this update!! Like I’m not even joking, I often checked your blog to see if I hadn’t missed the update or if Tumblr was still messing with the tags 🤣 My comment is probably going to be a blob of non-sense so please bear with me my little Brummie 🖤

That first setting with Y/N’s mother was refreshing. It’s true that we didn’t really know the relationship mother and daughter has except for the flashback you’ve written in the earliest chapters of this series. I mean she was harsh when Y/N was young but who are we to judge her? Our little protagonist was very bratty and loves getting into trouble with the Shelby boys! I love how you portray her mother still with that same strictness radiating off her but still full of good advice (even if we don’t want Y/N to forget Tommy right? This is a Tommy x Reader after all 🤭). In this scene I just loved how her mother recalls the way her dad loves Tommy —swing the rebel side of him- and how he thought that Y/N and Tommy would get married. Gosh, apart of him was right: he’s crazy about her even after everything. It’s just that he has the emotional capacity of a fennel and the grief of a sulking kid. 👀

I must say that I chuckled so much at your portrayal of little Finn and how she’s calling Y/N’s mother a witch because she’s the terror of Small Heath’s kids. THIS IS PERFECT I SWEAR. 🤭 I felt genuinely soft for little Finn being happy for his brothers’ victory! I just knew Y/N had to celebrate with us while getting afraid of Tommy’s reaction next time he’ll see her…And GOD I was right!! My heart already broke the moment she entered the Garrison and was so happy for the boys. I swear the way you describe how her face enlightens when she sees Arthur is so sweet. He’s definitely her biggest support and the brother figure she needs. I immediately understood that he was trying so bad to protect her with making up the excuse for Finn and gently leading her away with his hand on her back 🥺 God I love him so much I wanna scream.

NOW. TOMMY. We got to tell you fucking douchebag. I was as shocked as Y/N when he came at her literally yelling and threatening her. Poor girl even when she tries to justify what happened he shuts her down . I swear this idiot is as stubborn as a fucking donkey. Like don’t even get me start on the “you never loved me” whispered in her ear. I am going to smack his face I swear. I wanted to yell “you fool” with Polly 🤣. Regarding our wonderful Aunt Pol she’s just a guardian Angel. I love the role you gave her in this new series. This is so lovely how she tries to reassure the protagonist and considers her like her own daughter. It feels so natural considering she has seen Y/N grown up. In truth I’m delighted that no one stands with Tommy, not even his own family. At this point I was fuming because of Grace — Thank you Pol for your conversation with Tommy, revealing who the snitch was and highlighting Y/N “hopeless devotion”. Go tell him! Fortunately our best Aunt has managed to talk some sense to Tommy. 😊🖤

Finally Brummie I must admit that my jaw drop at the build up you’ve managed to create here. I lack the word to explain it properly but I felt a small adrenaline rush as I was reading Tommy running to the train station, yelling and banging his fists against the door. This was such and outstanding and powerful scene, I swear I got chills. You did such a wonderful job at conveying the despair and panic he is feeling. What a talented writer you are, each time I read your work I am in the midst of the drama an experiencing as if it was real — kudo to you because … wow. Just wow. I am so proud of you honey, Hopelessly Devoted is a fucking banger. All I have to do now is (Im)patiently wait for the next update, wondering how much time will pass before Tommy and Y/N meet again.

PREVIOUS PART

Hopelessly Devoted (PART FOUR)

Summary: After spending the remainder of the day at your mother's house restlessly trying to keep you worries at bay, Finn, the youngest member of the Shelby family accompanies you to the Garrison after telling you the news of Tommy's victory. Taking your mother's advice you enter the pub in hopes that you and Tommy will finally be able to talk and clear the air. But with the betrayal Tommy's believes you made still firmly at the forefront of his mind, the nights events threaten to take a different turn.

Warnings: Language, angst, mutual pining, mentions of blood

"Y/N are you listening to me?" your mother asked as you sat at the table beside the window in her kitchen, pulling back the embroidered netted curtains as you peered out onto the empty streets of Watery Lane.

" Yes I'm listening" you huffed back as you let go of the fabric, your hands coming down to rest on your lap as you nervously pulled at your fingers, wishing your thoughts would settle. After leaving Tommy in the cemetery you had the stupid idea to visit your mother, clearly you hadn't had enough gloom for one day. You had been told that morning by Polly to stay home until Tommy and his men had returned. So, ever the sucker for punishment you decided to forgo the cramped bedsit you called home and come here to your childhood home, to your mother who was currently sat across from you, her brows knitted together in frustration at your lack of response to her relentless rambling. She had taken this rare opportunity in which you visited to badger you with endless questions as to what it was you was actually doing with your life. Admittedly, It had been a good distraction from Tommy and the anger still churning in your stomach after your heated row in the cemetery. But what you couldn't seem to distract yourself from was the real reason as to why he followed you there. His ridiculous excuse as to why was exactly that, ridiculous. Just as Tommy had picked up over the years as to when you was lying, you too had picked up on when he was holding back, unable or unwilling to express what was really bothering him. Closed off and straight face was a demeanor he had adopted for many years. The only difference now was he wouldn't let you in when you had once been his first port of call. You thought to yourself as you stood up, aimlessly walking around the kitchen as you opened various draws and pots to further distract yourself whilst your mother watched on, the crease in her brow deepening.

" You need to get your life together Y/N" she said as she walked over to you, nudging you out the way with her hip as she shut one of the cupboard doors you had carelessly left open, her orderly home disrupted by your inability to stop fiddling with things." Find a man, and stop wallowing in self-pity over that Shelby boy" Boy...Jesus, did she still see you as the unruly teens that used to wreck havoc on the streets of Small Heath? " He was trouble then, and he's trouble now" she added as you rolled your eyes feeling the lecture that was coming your way.

" I'm not wallowing" you said crossing your arms as you leaned against the wall, squinting at the window to see if there was any movement outside. The street was quiet, eerily quiet. Was something wrong, had word come back that Tommy's plan had fallen apart?

" Off" she replied, ushering you away from her freshly painted kitchen walls.

" He was never trouble, he just got into trouble" you said as you looked down at your feet, tucking your hair behind your ear. " Or trouble finds him" you mumbled under your breath, defending him like you always had as you bit the corner of your bottom lip, looking up to see the picture of your little brother sitting on the shelf across from you.

" He liked him you know, your father too" your mother said with a sigh, her voice softening as she glanced up to your brother's picture whilst she folded the tea towel in her hand for a second time, a flash of sadness spreading across her face.

" He liked him because he wanted a big brother instead of a sister. And dad always did like a rebel" you replied, a small chuckle leaving your mother's lips as you tried to comfort her in the only way you knew how with your strained relationship.

" Georgie liked him because he made you smile. And your father liked him because he reminded him of you. Two peas in a pod he'd always say. He was convinced you'd get married one day" she said as you sat back down next to the window, your hand coming up to brush through your hair.

" Yeh well things changed, he changed" you said as you felt the past few weeks emotions well in your eyes, threatening to escape in front of the last person you would ever want them to. Shaking her head your mother walked over to you, digging in her apron as she pulled out a small white hankey.

" Here" she said as she sat down handing it to you.

" Don't need it" you said defiantly as you turned your head away in attempt to hide the tears now staining your cheeks.

" Take the bloody rag child and wipe those tears away. They'll do no good sitting there, building up. Just let them out...dear" she said as your bottom lip wobbled, your face reddening as you tried to hold back from completely falling apart.

" Mum..." you sobbed as you covered your eyes unable to keep up with the assured image you always tried to portray in front of her. Standing up your mother walked around to sit next to you, bringing you into her arms for what felt like the first time in a very long time, her chin resting on your head as she held you close to her.

" You may be two peas in a pod but shelling the stubbornness out of you both is enough for anyone to toss you in the bin" she chuckled as you smiled, wiping your tears away with the hand stitched cloth. "He's never stopped being trouble dear but his heart has always been in the right place, right here" she said pointing at yours as you looked up at her. " Don't fret child, he will come back. He's just brewing over his thoughts"

" He's been brewing for five years" you said with a huff as you sat up in your seat handing the hankey back to her.

" Yes we'll he's a man, it's what they do. Talk to him, clear the air. No doubt there's been a fair amount of misunderstandings, hm?" she said as she pushed your hair away from your face, pausing before her eyes darted to the window. " Jesus bloody Christ, it's that Finn Shelby again!" she said abruptly standing up, pulling back the curtains as she furiously knocked on the glass. "Putting sticks down my drain, i won't have him clog it up for a second time" she said as she stormed over to the kitchen counter. " He'll feel the back of my tea towel on those scrawny little legs before he has a chance!" she huffed as she picked up the checkered kitchen towel ready to march outside.

" Wait, wait I'll deal with him" you stood up wiping your cheeks as you walked past her to open the front door. " You're about to have holy hell come down on you" you said stepping down onto the porch as the youngest of the Shelby family was about to put a large stick into the drain, mischievously grinning from ear to ear.

" My brothers said if anyone hits me I'm allowed to hit 'em back twice as hard" he said as he stood up straight peering around you to see the scowl on your mother's face, the tea towel grasped tightly in her hand.

"Your brothers says a lot of things, a lot of things that will get you in trouble" you said as you bent down taking the stick from him.

" Tommy says your mum's a witch. Is she?" He asked, watching your mother squint her eyes at him as she turned to walk back into the kitchen.

" What a witch?" You replied biting your bottom lip, trying to hold back your laugh as he nodded his head in reply. Of course Tommy would say that, you thought to yourself. He and everyone else in the neighborhood had felt the back of her tea towel at least once in their lifetime, earning her a formidable and now whole new other reputation thanks to him.

" Yes, and she cooks up naughty little kids in her big cauldron for shoving sticks down her drain. Tommy should know he nearly ended up feet first into the hot bubbling water for doing the very same thing" you winked to him as his sudden wide-eyed expression relaxed into a toothy smile.

" I think you're telling porkies Y/N" he giggled as you stood up smiling to him " You coming" he said grabbing your hand pulling you with him down Watery Lane.

" Finn wait hang on, where are we going? " you said coming to a stop as he tugged at your hand adamant on continuing. "Finn?"

" The Garrison. We won Y/N. Tommy won!" he said as he smiled to you, your own smile unable to hide itself as relief washed over you, his promised good mood the perfect opportunity to take your mother's advice and finally clear the stagnant air that had been looming over you both for the past five years.

As you both approached the Garrison the laughs and chatter of the punters inside radiated from within the small pub out onto the mud and dirt filled streets of Birmingham, a celebration was in tow for yet another step up in Tommy's never ending endeavor for more control, more power. Pushing the large wooden door open you was met with the smell of sweet tobacco filling the air, a wave of beer and whisky engulfing your senses and what you were pretty sure was vomit, this was Small Heath after all. With a quick glance around the room you spotted Tommy with his back to you talking to Polly on the opposite side of the room. Swallowing harshly you walked forward into the middle of the pub, your hands resting on Finn's shoulders as he led the way when you felt a hand grab your arm spinning you around.

" Arthur!" You said turning your head to face him, your eyes lighting up to see the eldest Shelby standing in front of you unscathed and in one piece." Finn just told me, congratulations" you smiled as Arthur's attention quickly darted behind you, a flash of worry washing over his eyes as you furrowed your brow in confusion at his unfamiliar demeanor. "Arthur?"

" Did he now" he replied as he looked down at his younger brother, taking his hat off then ruffling his hair. " Y/N..." Arthur said as he smoothed down his mustache, his arm resting on your upper back as he started walking you away from the middle of the room and back to the Garrison door.

" Arthur what's going on ?" You quietly asked, taking note of the small sigh leaving his lips.

" Nothing love, nothing" he replied sending you a quick smile before his eyes cast down to the floor ahead of him. " It wont be long until it starts getting rowdy in here. There's been too much drinking, brawling will start soon" he said as he cleared his throat, his hand on the door as he glanced behind his shoulder " Be an angel and take Finn home for us, ay? " Arthur asked as you let out a small laugh in response. Finn had seen more than most grown men ever would in his short eleven years of life, a few potential pub fights was a teddy bears picnic in comparison to what his innocent eyes had already endured. You thought to yourself as you looked up at Arthur, his eyes barely able to meet yours. Something was wrong and you wanted to know what.

" Arthur what's goin.."

" Y/N!" Tommy shouted from across the room cutting you off as the pub suddenly went a deathly quiet.

"Tommy" you smiled as you turned around letting go of Finn as you walked towards him. " Congratulati.." you started to say when you noticed the expression on his face, his jaw clenched, his eyes piercing into you as he stood there staring at you without saying another word as you felt Arthur trying to pull you back from what he knew was about to unfold. "Arthur?" You said turning to him, looking for an explanation as to why everyone had their eyes on you when he gave your forearm a gentle squeeze in a small reassuring manner. Reassuring you for what though?

" You dare to fucking show your face after what you did?" Tommy finally spoke as Polly tried to pull him away, her attempts only brushed off as Tommy stalked forward towards you.

" What? " You replied the heat rising in your cheeks as you met his stare. Confusion spread across you face as your eyes darted around the room to everyone nervously diverting their attention else where, namely the bottom of their drinks or the wooden floorboards below them.

" Tommy not here " Polly said trying to stop him for a second time only to be ignored once again.

" How long had you been planning it, hm?" Tommy asked, now only a few feet from you as you tried to step back when he grabbed your wrist, his mounting anger towards you making the uneasy knot in your stomach tighten tenfold.

" Tommy what...what are you talking about?" you replied as you looked down at his strong grip, his fingers inching further into your flesh.

" You hate me that much?" Tommy said through gritted teeth quietly against your ear, his voice laced with hurt and fury. Pulling your head away you was met with his eyes boring into you, glazed over with a film of unspent tears from the rising anger within him. " You betrayed me" he said quieter than a whisper his voice shaking as he let go of you with a push taking a step back, fearing what he would do next.

" Betrayed you?" You questioned, your eyes widening at the mere suggestion you would do such a thing to anyone let alone to him.

" You fucking betrayed me!" Tommy yelled. His contained anger erupting into a loud bellow that boomed from wall to wall within the small room.

" Out! Out, everyone out!" Polly shouted as the whole pub scrambled through the door leaving you, Tommy, Arthur, Polly and John alone in the Garrison." You too" Polly said as her head snapped to Grace standing in the corner by the bar, her eyes briefly meeting yours as she turned around, placing the white rag in her hands on the counter as she casually walked off.

" Will someone please tell me what's going on? " you asked wiping a lone tear as Tommy scoffed in reply, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his suit jacket. His hands shaking from the fury rapidly coursing through his body as he attempted to light the end of one between his fingers.

" Y/N" Polly said as she hurried over to you, her hand resting on your upper arm. " Y/N, someone let slip about Tommy's plan to take Kimber out. You was seen with his men the other day. Tommy, Tommy thinks.."

" That I let slip?" you replied, your own anger at the accusation now building within you as you stormed over to Tommy sitting on the edge of the table, his thumb rubbing across his brow.

" What you think I told Kimber?!" You said standing in front of him." Tommy they pinned me against the wall, threatened my..."

" I don't want to hear your lies, I don't want to fucking hear them. Danny's dead because of you!" Tommy cut you off as he stood up, his intimidating figure looming over you

" That's enough Tommy!" Polly shouted as your eyes widened.

" Danny's dead? Rosie, the boys..." you said as you looked back to Arthur watching him sniff back his emotions as he downed the glass of whisky in his hand.

" Widowed and fatherless, your doing" Tommy pointed at you, staring you down as you blinked away the tears, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat. Not only was he accusing you of betrayal but now he was blaming you for the death of Danny Owen, the boy who used to live only three doors down from you when you were kids.

" Tommy you're talking bullshit" John said defending you as he threw his tooth pick on the floor, pushing the chair in his way to the side. Tempers were high, too much liquor had been drunk. Arthur was right, alcohol only added fuel to the flames.

" Just get the fuck out Y/N" Tommy said ignoring John and anybody else's attempts to reason with him.

" No" You said adamantly as you stood in his way, your voice catching in your throat from the tears pouring down your face." Tommy look at me, please..." you pleaded as you held onto the front of his suit jacket. " You know me. You've known me my whole life. I'd never do this to you" you sobbed as you gently placed your palms on either side of his cheeks, his skin scorching hot from the fury bubbling beneath him."Tommy" you said softly, turning his head to face you as he raised his hands, resting them on your arms while you gave him a small smile, gently rubbing your thumb across his cheek.

"You never loved me" Tommy whispered in your ear, pushing past you as you stumbled back, tripping on the leg of the chair behind you as your hand came down onto a broken whisky glass on the floor, missing the table you hoped would steady your fall.

"Fucking hell!" Polly gasped as she rushed over to you, clutching your hand in hers as blood poured down your wrist whilst Tommy looked on, brushing his hand down his face. " Tommy hand me that cloth" Polly said motioning behind him at the towel siting on the bar counter.

" Just get her out of here"

" Tommy..." his Aunt replied, her eyes wide from his lack of response, from his unrelenting hostility.

"Get her fucking out of here! Do you here me? I never want to see her face around here again. You're fired Y/N, get the fuck out of this town!" he shouted as he turned around, his hands resting on the counter of the bar as his jaw clenched at his reflection in the mirror in front of him. Pushing past his brother Arthur picked up the cloth beside him, giving Tommy a sharp elbow to his back.

" Git" Arthur said through gritted teeth as he turned around, walking back to you and Polly.

" Tommy..." you sobbed as you walked to the door wrapping the cloth around your hand. "Tommy! I didn't do anything I swear" You pleaded when he refused to turn around and look at you.

" Don't you worry love we'll get to the bottom of this" Polly said quietly in your ear as she opened the door not wanting the situation to escalate any further, unsure the love she knew her nephew still had for you enough to stop him from doing something he would regret.

" I'll walk you home" Arthur said as he took your arm.

" No" you replied shaking your head as you turned back to Arthur, John and Polly in front of you, your eyes looking past them to see Tommy still looming over the bar. " No" you answered again turning around, suddenly feeling like an outsider as they all watched you leave. Did they believe the same as Tommy, did they believe you betrayed them? As the door to the Garrison shut Polly stormed over to her nephew about to swing at him when Arthur pulled her away.

" You fool, you fucking fool!" Polly hissed, her eyes boring into him as her face trembled with anger. Grabbing her bag Polly stormed out as John followed behind, leaving Tommy with his own choice of insults.

" You're on your own with this one brother" Arthur said picking up his coat as he marched outside, slamming the door behind him.

" Fuck!" Tommy yelled as he threw the glass beside him at his reflection in the mirror, his nostrils flaring as his knuckles turned white from the strain of his clenched fists.

" Tommy?" Grace said as she reappeared from around the corner, slowing approaching him as she gingerly looked around the empty pub. Snaking her hand up his back, she rubbed the side of his neck as she placed the other on his chest, her head resting gently on his shoulder. If her intention from the beginning was to stay back and console him after the bitter row she knew Tommy would have with his family she was in for a rude awakening. It only took a few seconds after feeling the heat of her body pressed against him for Tommy to push her hands away, not entertaining nor giving her an ounce of his attention before he stormed out the Garrison doors leaving her alone and seething for the second time that day. Had Tommy finally realised his mistake?

It's only me" Polly said as she knocked at your front door. It had been a week since that night at the Garrison, the night when Tommy accused you of the unthinkable. Pulling the bed sheets off you walked over to the door opening it then quickly returning to the spot you had barely moved from for the past week, back to staring at the small crack in the wall beside you. Walking in Polly let out a sigh as she looked around the darkened bedsit. Marching over to the opposite side of the room she threw open the curtains, unbolting the window to let in some much needed fresh air. "Tea?" She asked cheerfully as you pulled the covers up to your chin. " You haven't touched any of the food I brought you " she said as she opened the glass bottle of milk in the small basket, its pungent smell making her eyes water as she quickly discarded the contents down the sink. " Y/N?" She said walking over, sitting beside you as she pushed your hair away from your face. You were pale, the colour from you drained. Had you even slept? She thought to herself as she turned your chin to look at her, the wells of your eyes filled with tears. "Oh love, come here" she said as she pulled you up into her arms. The warmth of her embrace comforting you the same as it did when she would cradle you in her arms after your father's death.

"Tell me again love" she said as she collected your hair in her hand, twisting it around her finger into one large curl.

" I've already told you Pol. Kimber's men, they approached me after I left the Garrison. Told me they heard Tommy was up to something and that if he didn't play by the rules both our lives were on the line. Pol, he put my name out there, they knew who I was" you sobbed looking up at her as she wiped the tears from your face with her thumb.

" Fucking idiot" she huffed under her breath thinking about her nephew as her brain ticked over, trying to think of her next plan of action. " When did he tell you he was going to make a move on Kimber?" Polly asked, she was determined to get to the bottom of this mess.

" The day after his birthday. He wanted me to write down the dates John gave when I saw the black star in his diary"

" And you're sure you didn't write that black star down yourself?"

" I'm sure " you sniffed as Polly's head turned to look out the window. " Y/N, does Tommy's diary always stay in the betting shop?"

" No, yes...I don't know, he takes it with him sometimes, to the Garrison" you said as you sat up straight to what you really wanted to say. " Pol I was talking with my cousin who lives in London, her landlord has a new letting advertised " you said as you reached into your bed side table pulling out a piece of paper then handing it to her.

" A train ticket to London King's Cross for today, one minute past noon" she said as her hand dropped into her lap, her eyes widening.

" I can't stay here, you heard him. He never wants to see me again. Small Heath belongs to him, I'm not welcome here anymore" you said as you swallowed back your tears. "I have a few savings I can use while I find work, this place never cost much to rent" you said as you looked around your small bedsit.

" Fuck him and his weak threats. Because that's what they are Y/N, weak. He won't do a thing" Polly said as she folded the ticket back in half throwing it beside her onto the bed as she grabbed your face in her hands." I will sort this out" She said nodding her head in attempts to reassure you.

" Polly I've already packed"

" Wait for me until the last minute, if I'm not on the platform then you go love" she said as she brought you back into her arms, squeezing you tight. You may not be blood but Polly always treated you as one of her own, and the one thing she wasn't willing to do was let you turn your life upside down for the sake of her nephews deluded accusations. Standing up Polly walked over to the door, hooking her handbag on her arm. " Pretty sure I saw a rat lurking around the Garrison. We're long overdue a good culling, don't you think?" She smiled sending you a wink as she fixed her hat on her head, shutting the door behind her. Falling back into bed, you pulled the covers around you, your head turning to face the wall as your eyes fixed on the crack you had been endlessly staring at, wishing you had as much confidence in Polly's abilities to get to the bottom of what felt like a neverending pit of hopelessness and despair.

Leaning against the side of the Garrison bar with a cigarette resting between her lips, Grace lit a match when the sound of the pub's heavy wooden doors swung open and a gust of wind blew out the flame in front of her eyes. "We're not open yet" she huffed in irritation as she looked up to see Polly standing by the doors, removing her hat from her dark brown locks.

" Why don't you pour us both a drink " Polly smiled as she graciously sat down at one of the chairs in the middle of the room, pulling out a long sharp pin from her hair. Polly had never been a gambling woman, but she was willing to take a bet that the ace up her sleeve was worth the risk. Or as they called it in the gambling world, calling someone's bluff.

" Ever heard of knocking?" Tommy said as he sat up in his office chair flicking the ash from the end of his cigarette in the small glass dish beside him as Polly stormed in.

" There he is" she said with a satisfied smirk on her lips as she walked over to his desk " Boss of the Peaky Blinders, King of Small Heath and now the proud owner of Billy Kimber's business. Was is worth losing the only thing that truly matters to you?

" What do you want Polly?" Tommy huffed as he opened his pocket watch. Twenty to twelve, he noted as he snapped it closed, his hand coming up to rub the bar of stress sitting along his forehead.

" I've just been to see Grace" Polly replied as she dropped her bag on his desk. " You're not so clever Tommy" she added as she crossed her arms. "She didn't half scurry out of there when I told her you'd be coming for her, gun loaded after hearing what I just heard. You got played Tommy" she said pulling out his diary in front of him, turning the pages back to the black star noted down a week ago. " Y/N wasn't the only person you told about your plans, was she?" So caught up in your own bitterness and self-pity you overlooked that scheming little wench that's been digging her claws into you for the past few months " Polly said as Tommy's brows furrowed, his throat suddenly going dry as he looked at the small black star in front of him. " Called her bluff... She's been working with Campbell. She's the one that betrayed you, she's the reason your plans fell apart" Polly seethed, slamming the book shut as Tommy's eyes widened at the realisation whilst Polly stepped back watching the wheels turn in her nephew's brain. " Yeh let that sink in. The girl who has been hopelessly devoted to you since you were teens, still is. The love that poor girl bears for you has no match" she added enforcing her point, letting him feel the guilt and pain he had unfairly forced upon you for the past five years.

" Call the train station, tell them to stop all the trains" Tommy panicked, brushing his hands through his hair as he abruptly stood up.

" What?" Polly replied as she moved to the side watching Tommy frantically put his coat on.

" Y/N's getting on the train to London Kings cross in ten minutes" he said feeling a heavy surge of nausea settle in the pit of his stomach.

" You bloody knew? Do you also know every time that girl takes a breath?" Polly sighed as she pinched the middle of her brow." Tommy I was meant to meet her, I won't get there in time and neither will you" she said as she grabbed hold of his arms.

"I'll run. And believe me, if I could know everything she does every minute of the day I would" Tommy replied as he put his peaked cap on opening the door to his office.

" Jesus fucking christ" Polly mumbled under her breath." It's too late, you're five years too late!" She shouted to him as she hurried out his office after him.

"Then I'll spend the next five years making things right " Tommy shouted back as he ran out the betting shop onto Watery Lane.

"London Kings Cross now boarding" the rail dispatcher shouted blowing his whistle as you glanced back behind you.

" Mam, your bags" a young employee said as he approached you, offering you help as your eyes darted around the platform, suddenly realising you was the only passenger left standing there.

" What's the time?" you asked him as you both walked to the the carriage door.

" Twelve mam, the train will be leaving in one minute" he replied opening the door, placing your bag inside as he gave you his hand to help you up the large step. The last minute, you had waited just as Polly said. Turning around you watched as the train door closed, your choice to leave cemented as the sound of the lock closed on the opposite side.

" Hey stop the train. Stop that fucking train!" Tommy shouted as he ran onto the platform, slamming his hands on the side of the carriage as he walked along the side of the train trying to open each door when the whistle blew.

"Sir, Sir! Step away, the train is about to leave" The rail worker instructed as he grabbed Tommy's arm pulling him away as the engine started.

" Here, here take it!" Tommy said holding onto the man's suit jacket as he pulled out a bundle of cash pushing it into his chest as he looked back, his eyes widening in panic." No no no, Y/N!" Tommy shouted letting go of the employees suit jacket as the bank notes he was holding against his chest floated down to the platform floor, the screeching sound of the train wheels turning muffling his desperate calls for you.

Sat in the carriage you clutched onto your bag, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as the train started to leave, feeling as is your heart was parting with everything and everyone you had ever known and loved.

" Probably a late comer" an elderly gentleman chuckled to his wife as them and a few other passengers curiously looked out their window at the commotion outside.

" Y/N!" Tommy shouted desperately as he started to run along the platform, banging his fists on the sides of the train. "Y/N wait!" Tommy yelled stopping in his tracks, unable to keep up as the horn blew and a large cloud of smoke funneled along the top of the train. Sitting back in your chair you turned to face the window, wiping the tears away from you blurry vision, the panel for Small Heath passing you by, the final goodbye.

(Part Five coming soon!)

Tag list: @cosniffee @jonsncws @powellssaturn @jessimay89 @bruher @riseandreigns4u @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @chimchimjiminie16 @gaslysainz @calicoootalks (unable to tag) @weaponizedvirtue @vlryexsworld (unable to tag) @shittyprofilebutfuckit @peakyswritings @kammsinn @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @cherryslyce @esquivelbianca @taliawz (unable to tag) @answer-the-sirens @dielgonacoffee @cicilysgrace @nadloves @fanatics30 @httyd-marauders @beeposstuff @yeppaweshallsee (unable to tag) @ja-4-leyvam (unable to tag) @xmariakx @slighltyaboveaverageiq (unable to tag) @fairypitou @youngbananamilkshake @call-sign-shark @peakyltd @jeysbae @muhahaha303 @mornixgstar18 @adaydreamaway08 @artzyhobo (unable to tag) @atomicsaladapricotcreator (unable to tag) @1lellykins

#Brummie and her wonderful series #I wanna smack Tommy to much #and kiss Arthur #and hug Polly #10/10 recommend #Brummie the best #Tommy Shelby x reader #hopelessly devoted

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alarawriting · 5 years ago

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Inktober #8: Frail

This was delayed a day because it’s longer than any of the others. Relates to my WIP “No Drama”, aka “Q is an investigative journalist researching whether God is a corrupt politician of his people”.

So the first thing I need to explain before I tell you about meeting Heph is his name.

Humans call me John Deer (it’s a joke. Their name for a man who has no name is John Doe, but a doe is a female deer. I don’t technically have one of their genders, strictly speaking, and if you go by the body I’m in, it’s not female, so I thought I’d go by John Deer. Turns out the joke’s on me; add a silent e to the name and it’s a company that makes tractors. Go figure.) However, as I hope would be obvious, that’s not my real name. The Aleph don’t have physical bodies and aren’t made of matter and the pure information we are made of doesn’t translate to syllables you or anything that makes sound can pronounce. If I were to translate my name, it would be impossibly long to convey in words; an Aleph’s name is, essentially, a hash function of our personality, the defining nature of our being. I’m not going to stand here and recite my entire personality to you, or anyone else’s entire personality, either, and don’t expect any other Aleph to do so.

So when we walk among pre-eschatonic species, we generally go by the names of gods in their language, or animals of symbolic value (which on most planets, for many groups on that planet, are indistinguishable from gods), or Virtue Names like “Patience” (that one is definitely not mine). And then, when we speak to one another with our meat mouths because we’re in meat bodies, we use those names, the use-names specific for that planet, that culture, that language. On Earth, in English-speaking languages (as well as a significant number of the other ones), I’m known to other Aleph as Fox, Ferret or Weasel, depending on their current opinion of me. My opponent goes by the Lion, or the Ape. But Heph doesn’t use animal names; for the past several hundred years, when he walked on this planet, he called himself Hephaestus. The Greek God of engineering, smithing and invention – technology, in other words – who also happened to be crippled. I think it would be hard to find a myth better suited to be Heph’s use-name.

You see, Heph was born damaged. (We aren’t “born” like you’re born, messy screaming infants coming out of a parent’s orifices. A seed is woven by an entire team of Aleph who’ve chosen to procreate and gotten permission to do so, and then that seed grows fractally. So we are a little less random than spinning the Wheel of Sperm and Ova like you guys do… but not much less random.) By the time he was grown enough that anyone was able to notice the damage, it was too late to correct him without making major changes to his essence, and most Aleph would have to be dying before they’d consent to that (if then. Personally I’d rather die.) It’s hard to explain what the problem is to a non-Aleph, so I need to draw an analogy. In essence… his bandwidth is too low. He cannot quickly upload anything to the Host, and he doesn’t have the storage capacity for the energy we draw down to do our reality-altering things. Where the rest of us are gods, Heph is barely a guardian spirit.

Back when we were both living in the Host most of the time, I am… ashamed to admit that I overlooked Heph, the way almost all the Aleph do. He can’t join with one of us – well, he can, but it’s shallow because of his low bandwidth. Not to be crude about it but it’s as if one of your males was trying to make love to a woman with the vaginal depth of a tea saucer. It… doesn’t do a lot for most Aleph. He can’t participate in most of the things we do because he can’t store enough energy to do it. So he isolates himself from us, and we let him do it because we’re all kind of at a loss as to how you include a guy who can’t do 90% of what you take for granted.

Heph, however, is very smart. All Aleph are by human standards, but Heph is by our standards. So he found a way around the problem.

When I met him on Earth, I was dying in a gutter. I’d been sentenced to a decade of being locked down to a single mortal body, and since I’d been on Earth when they grabbed me and put me on trial, it was Earth they sent me back to. Specifically, Victorian England. Naked, and with no money. Or antibodies. I ended up in a workhouse, where as you can imagine I did fantastically well since I’ve always been so eager to do pointless busywork and follow orders. The main punishment for disobedience was not being fed, followed by being held in a cell for a day and then given clothes that were supposed to shame you. I had no sense of shame, but I got a lot less food than the body I was in needed, and I was surrounded by people who were not in the best health. When I couldn’t work anymore and I was delirious with fever, they threw me out to be picked up with the rest of the refuse, assuming I’d be dead by morning.

Heph was on Earth too. He tracked me down, using technology he’d created. That’s Heph’s thing. He creates technology to compensate for his weaknesses. We have safeguards against anyone or anything but a recognized member of the Host drawing on power, so his tech can’t do all the shiny things a full-powered Aleph can, but we have plenty of access protocols to reach the database of knowledge. So he was able to find me. No Aleph was supposed to render me aid, but Heph was not afraid of pulling the cripple card to get away with doing anything he’d been forbidden to do that he nonetheless decided was the right thing to do. He may be one of the smartest of us, but most Aleph treat him as if he’s not particularly bright, just because he can’t output his thoughts as fast as the rest of us, or fork himself and multi-process. And he made sure not to give me any aid that only an Aleph would be capable of. He fed me bread mold, a powerful antibiotic – you know it as penicillin – that humans happened to not have discovered yet, and pumped sugar, water and saline solution directly into my veins with a sterile glass tube ending in a needle, which humans would later refer to as an IV once they’d invented it. It was all with materials that could be found on Earth, that humans could have discovered (and in fact did, later on.)

I didn’t know my sentence was for a decade. Nobody had told me there was a time limit. I thought they’d left me on Earth to die. Heph restored meaning to my life. The Host as a whole may have abandoned me, but one specific Aleph still cared, and went well out of his way to take care of me. Heph’s not known for being a fluffy, love and compassion kind of guy; he’s cold, aloof, introverted, with difficulty outputting his emotions in a format most Aleph can read, and his shallow bandwidth means that if an Aleph tried to probe him directly, it would cause him a lot of pain. Which, since we are a compassionate species, meant no one was allowed to probe him without his permission. Which he never gave.

In those days, Heph had been tall and broad-shouldered, still going with the whole blacksmith motif. He was never ripped like a bodybuilder, but his upper body had some substantial muscle to it. He’d affected black curly hair and bronze skin like the Greeks he’d named himself for. And he’d worn thick spectacles and walked with a cane. I’m not sure whether he does it on purpose or whether it’s a subconscious compulsion, but every body Heph creates for himself in matter has damage to mobility and damage to perception, representing what he suffers in his true form. I tend to think Heph identifies so strongly with being disabled, he can’t imagine having a form that isn’t.

Ten years before I’d even learned the sentence was finite. Heph had known, but hadn’t been allowed to tell me – and while obviously he thought he could get away with saving my life and being my companion and showing me how to survive as a human, equally obviously he didn’t want to disobey the Host in the matter of telling me my sentence. Their logic was that it was hardly an aspect of being mortal to know for a fact that if you just survive long enough you’ll get your immortality back. The truth was, of course, the Lion had had the judges in his pocket. We hated each other even then; that’s why I started investigating him. He had them do it to be pointlessly cruel, and they came up with a rationalization to the rest of the Host. Well, in those ten years, Heph became my best friend. Raven and Cat and Monkey, my other close friends, hadn’t come to visit. Even Isis, who treated me like I was her little brother and used to watch out for me when we were millions of years younger, left me there. Heph was the only Aleph willing to risk the displeasure of the Host to be my friend.

So as soon as I came back to Earth, I looked him up, of course.

I’m kind of in the same boat he’s always been in; I have my powers, but the moment I draw down energy to do anything major, or even upload any complex hand-rolled query, my memories upload to the Host. And I’m absolutely sure that the Lion is going to honor the law and not seek to obtain illicit access to privacy-locked memories. Yup. Positive. So the moment I use my powers, my enemy gets to see exactly what I’ve been thinking and planning up to that point. Which means I can’t use my powers for anything short of “my physical body has just been killed and I need to upload or I’ll actually die.” But locating a fellow Aleph is such a common query, we have a wizard for it, which can be triggered without uploading – and while my privacy lock keeps that particular simple query from finding me, Heph’s never felt the need to hide.

But I gotta admit I was kind of shocked when I saw his new body.

He recognized me, of course. “Fox. Come on in.”

Heph was living in a farmhouse that he’d converted to his brand of tech wonderland, probably because he wanted to have enough land between him and his human neighbors that no one called the cops for strange noises or mysterious lights. I stepped over several gadgets of unknown function, following Heph to the kitchen. “You still drink tea?” he asked me.

“Uh, yeah, what have you got?”

“Oolong, chai, green with ginger, peach chamomile, Earl Grey, and hibiscus.”

“Gimme the chai.” The last time we’d met, chai had been something you’d only get if you were actually in India.

I made my way to his kitchen table, which was covered with papers and had what looked like two laptops sitting on it. I happened to know they were laptops the way desktop computers are abacuses, but humans probably wouldn’t have been easily able to tell the difference, unless they knew the Unix operating system well enough to know that Heph was not running a variant of it. Heph pushed the papers out of the way on one of the chairs, giving me a clear spot to sit down, as he remote-activated a teakettle with his mind.

“What brings you back to Earth?” he asked.

“Before we get into that, I need to address the elephant in the room, Heph.”

“No one here goes by Elephant.”

If I hadn’t known Heph as well as I did, I might not have guessed he was telling a joke; he was completely deadpan. “Yeah yeah. What have you done to your use-form?”

Like I said, the last time I’d seen Heph, he’d been built, matching the crippled blacksmith stereotype. Now… he was still tall. That was about the only point of resemblance. He’d gone for a pasty white, skinny form with long blond hair in a ponytail, thick glasses with a tint to them so I couldn’t really see his eyes well, and his body looked like it would blow away in a strong wind. There was a visible brace on his left leg, and he dragged it very slightly when he walked. Heph had always made his use-forms disabled, but there’s disabled and then there’s “looks completely helpless.”

“This is the new look for the 21st century technologist,” Heph said.

“It looks like the consumption chic that was going around in Byron’s day. Do you eat? At all?”

“Sure. Chips, pizza, burgers. All of the fatty, unhealthy stuff that modern technology gurus poison themselves with when they’re crunching on a project, which is all the time.”

“Great, so you’re not just incredibly skinny, you also probably have a dozen vitamin deficiencies. Heph. You gotta keep that body running! With your upload time—”

“Thanks, I’m aware of my upload time. And I’m pretty sure you didn’t drop in on me just to tell me I’m too thin.”

“I’m worried about you. You look like one high fever could do you in.”

“They’ve invented a lot more antibiotics than they had around when you got sick. Listen, Fox, I get that you’re worried, but I’m not trapped like you were. If something goes wrong with this body because it’s too fragile to survive, which is highly unlikely anyway, I’ll have enough time to upload. I’ve got plenty of equipment to scan it for health.” He got to his feet with some difficulty and limped over toward the singing teakettle.

“What was wrong with the old one?”

“Firstly, too many photographs got taken of it. I had to fake my death so I didn’t have uncomfortable questions about why I looked exactly like my great-grandfather.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before posing for photographs right after they were invented.”

“It’s not the Victoriana I was concerned with, it was more the World War II era stuff. And secondly, it’s the aesthetic. Today people don’t think of blacksmiths when they think of technology. They think of autistic white men with bad vision.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did you actually give yourself autism or is that just a metaphor?”

“Look the definitions up, I am actually the closest thing to autistic the Aleph have ever produced.” He came over to the table with my tea. I didn’t try to help him or intercept him. Quite aside from the fact that he’d find it insulting, he had so much junk on the floor that his knowledge of what to step over and when made him more mobile than I’d be. “But stop trying to sidetrack me. What are you doing on Earth?”

If another Aleph had asked that question, there might have been all kinds of subtext in there. Are you in exile again? Have you gone native after spending ten years as a mortal here? Don’t you have anything better to do? From Heph, it more or less meant exactly what he’d asked. “Can’t tell you unless you’ve run a backup,” I said, taking a sip of the tea.

Heph rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic,” he said. “Look at this.” He got up again and dodged some more junk on the floor, making his way toward what the people who’d built this place probably thought of as a family room or maybe sitting room. I followed, feeling like a drunk guy in a china shop. My personal aesthetic has never been tiny, delicate motions, so getting anywhere across Heph’s floor without breaking his stuff was like a minefield, except with fewer actual explosions, I hoped.

It was a metal box. “Very impressive,” I said. “I especially like the craft in the solder lines.”

“Don’t be an ass. Here.” He unlatched a latch I hadn’t recognized and lifted the lid. Inside was a crystalline array of the kind the Aleph used to use before we shifted to encoding our data in neutron stars. “Local backup device.”

I tried not to look impressed. Of course Heph had a local backup device. I was kicking myself for not assuming he’d have created such a thing. “Does it work?”

“I changed my use-form. How do you think I did that without it being a major pain in the rear?”

That was a good point. Heph’s bandwidth was low enough that it would take him a couple of days to upload to the Host. Changing bodies would have involved creating a new form, uploading out of it, and then downloading into the new one… which was a problem if it took you two days to upload or download, because your physical body might very well die on you or suffer brain damage while you were imperfectly socketed in it. I felt a lot better about Heph’s frailty now. “How long does it take to transfer to that?”

“I’m running delta backups every time I sleep, so if the body were to die unexpectedly, I’d only need to transfer at most a day’s worth of memories and experiences. Probably 20 minutes at a maximum. Also, if it wasn’t obvious to you, I’m not doing regular backups to the Host and I can tag data to keep it out of the upload when I do, and there’s no way any other Aleph is getting into my local backup server. It’s not even connected to the Host except when I run uploads from it.”

Okay. His memories weren’t accessible to the Lion either. That meant it was safe to tell him the details of what I was up to. I made my way back to the table with my teacup. “So, this is going to be a long story…”

#inktober 2019 #no drama

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