#ic. finn locke

[dicethrow]

@wolf-eyes-wolf-soul | Finn Starter Call

Finn sat on the rickety wooden beams of what remained of a broken fishing dock, dangling precariously over the slow-moving river. What river? He hadn’t a clue, but it wasn’t the sea—that much was certain. The calm flow of the water brought a meager sense of peace, though the air stank of rotten flesh and damp wood. At least it was something familiar, something he could work with.

He needed a plan. His head throbbed with the weight of exhaustion, his thoughts circling back to the worm writhing in his skull. A healer—that’s what he needed. Someone who could yank the damn thing out before it drove him mad. He exhaled sharply, his eyes scanning the horizon, the soft ripple of the water helping to steady his nerves. Rivers led somewhere—villages, towns, and if he was lucky, the sea. And the sea meant the Dúncannon. He’d find it. He always did.

The sand shifted behind him, faint but unmistakable, followed by the groan of cracked wood beneath the weight of an unfamiliar footstep. Finn’s shoulders tensed. One hand instinctively rested on the hilt of his dagger, his fingers curling around it with practiced ease. But he didn’t draw—not yet.

Without looking back, he spoke, his voice low and sharp.

"I just came from a burning wreck. If you think I’m worth robbing, you can piss off."

[dicethrow]

starter for @deathswcrn

"Fucking hell," Finn muttered, ducking just in time as a wisp fluttered past his head. Spirits—bloody everywhere. Sure, the Rivani people welcomed them, but Finn was still getting used to that part of their culture. Harmless or not, they were a pain in the ass when he was trying to navigate his way back to Thedas.

He trudged forward, eyes squinting through the ethereal glow that clouded his path. He’d gotten here through a damned mirror, so surely there was another one that could take him back. If only these wisps would give him a moment’s peace. Another one buzzed persistently around his shoulder, its light flickering annoyingly close to his face.

With a grunt, he finally relented. "Fuck me, you’re persistent. What do you want? Food? Do you even eat?"

Sighing, he reached into his satchel, fishing out a slightly crumbled cracker. He snapped off a corner and held it out, feeling ridiculous. The wisp hovered for a moment, then took the tiny piece, zipping away in a blur of light. Finn watched it go, utterly unconvinced that the creature would—or even could—eat the damn thing.

But as his gaze followed the wisp’s flight path, something caught his attention. There, on the steps beyond, stood a figure. A person. A living person. Relief, sharp and sudden, jolted through him.

He straightened up, eyes narrowing just slightly. "Thank the fucking Maker," he breathed. "You’re real, right? Not some magic Fade shite here to mess with me?"

[theflyingfeeling]

the love of my entire life

[reidsdimples]

Can you do an angst Spencer and reader where they have an argument about their friends with benefits situation just before he goes to play baseball with Morgan and he is devastated when you don’t show but at the last minute he sees you in the crowd with a ‘Reid’ jersey on 😭😭

Situationship

My response to this request <3

"Because, maybe I'm not ready for that step in this... situationship," you frown as you hold Spencer's face between your hands.

You're straddling him, only wearing his shirt which is open after the two of you essentially attacked each other for the last few hours. You were sore between your legs but still so turned on as you tugged on the ends of his hair. He looked up at you through thick eyelashes and doe eyes.

"It's not like that for me. I'm serious about you. I would never do what he did," he eases you off of him gently and stands. His dark jeans are open and your eyes follow his happy trail down until it disappears behind the waistband of his black boxers.

"I'm not saying you will..." you start. Your last friends with benefits situation ended in disaster.

"You can't keep comparing me to him. I think I've more than proven that my feelings for you go beyond superficial or sexual," he shakes his head and sighs.

"Spencer," you reach for him. He pulls away from your grip and enters his walk in closet.

You and Spencer had been friends for two years before one night, three months ago, things changed and... well it seemed the two of you had wanted each other for a while.

But before... you were friends with Finn for five years, a year of that was spent as a friend with benefits. Except he only led you to believe he wanted more in order to keep you in his bed. Things went south when he got some other girl pregnant. The friendship couldn't be saved after that. And in his own words, he didn't see you as worth anything more than sex.

You had to keep this line drawn with Spencer, you couldn't hope for more because what if he doesn't actually want you that way? What if he just thinks he does? Truthfully you didn't want your heart broken again and you didn't want to lose another friend.

He emerged from his closet with a lilac button up hanging over his brown jeans as his nimble fingers worked the buttons.

"You don't want more with me, I promise you," you plead with him. You pull your leggings on.

"How do you know?" Pain spread across his features in the form of furrowed eyes and puppy dog eyes that clenched your heart.

You didn't want to say you thought he was too good to be true. You didn't want to say he deserved better, because he did.

"That's what I thought," he sassed. "I know where your boundaries lie. I won't invite you to things with my team moving forward."

You could tell that the words were painful for him to say. His team was his family. You hadn't hung out with them before- for this reason.

"I want to support you, I just can't..." you knew your fear was controlling you.

"It's fine. Lock the door when you leave," he pulled on his FBI baseball cap and exited his apartment.

His words and abrupt exit felt like more of a goodbye than just him going to the game. You swallowed hard.

--

Spencer wiped sweat from his forehead. The game had been rough and he couldn't stop questioning why he agreed to participate. You weighed heavy on his mind.

He wrapped his hands around the bat, practicing his swing as he scanned the crowd. JJ and Garcia wave at him and he smiles. Suddenly his eyes spot a familiar head of hair, hair that had been curled in his hands hours before as you moaned beneath him.

You came.

You were sitting two bleachers behind his team with a big iced coffee and what appeared to be a baseball jersey. His baseball jersey. He hadn't worn it obviously as it was a gag gift from Derek.

But you wore it over your signature leggings and were smiling at him like you had resolved yourself to the reality of him affections.

Derek ushered him to the home plate where evidently the team depended on him to win the game. Wonderful.

He remembered his form that Derek taught him and squinted against the sun as he heard you cheering him on. His heart seized when he heard you cheering for him. the ball flew towards him and... miss.

"This guy's got nothing," one of the other team mates taunted.

"Come on baby!" You cheer, unyielding in claiming him. He took a deep breath and focused on the next pitch.

This time he swung just in time, sending the ball through the air with such force it took him a moment to remember what to do next.

"Run!" The team yelled.

"To first base baby!" Your voice broke through the noise. He dropped the bat and took off.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He couldn't believe he was still running between the bases, the thought of scooping you into his arms spurning him forward. His eyes locked on the opposing teammate who was about to hurl the ball to first base as he picked up speed.

Derek ushered him in and there was nothing else to do but what he saw on TV- jump. So he did, a sliding jump sent him to home base before the catcher caught that ball.

Cheers erupted and he knew that he got the winning home run. Derek pulled him off the ground and hugged him as adrenaline pumped to his head. He was laughing and smiling as he met your eyes over Derek's shoulder.

You gave him a small wave and a bright smile.

"Come on, there's someone I want you to meet," he told his team and gestured towards you.

A sense of resolve settled within you as you moved to meet the people he called family. Maybe Spencer really was different. He pulled you under his arm and held you close as you all spoke amongst yourselves.

You knew when he left that apartment it was time to call the sexual stuff quits or take a chance and dive head first into him. You were glad you took a chance as he lazily circled his thumb over your hand while your fingers were interlocked.

[dicethrow]

The truth was, Finn enjoyed the flirtatious banter, but the moment he realized he was engaging in it, he could only hear his father’s scolding—a metaphorical slap to the back of his head—and he stepped back. He held no judgment for queer folk across the realms, but a whisper in his mind told him he was no such thing. He couldn't be.

Watching Tryck lead the way, however, the glow of the lichen and the calming presence of the water made those worries fade. That little voice in his mind died out. The hot springs reminded him of rock pools at night, back when the ship anchored downshore and he would search the pools for small fish and crabs. Not to eat—just for his own amusement.

Not that he would find either here. The steam rising from the water’s surface suggested it would take one hardy fish to survive in such heat. Finn was too busy staring at the water to notice Tryck or hear him speak, his thoughts drifting back to the sea, until the tap on his chest pulled him back.

He looked up just in time to see Tryck strip. Finn’s gaze lingered a moment on the bare arse on display before it disappeared into the water. He quickly recollected himself, cheeks heating more than he’d like to admit.

Like hell was he going to join the bard naked. Still, hopping in fully clothed wasn’t an option either. With a sigh, Finn stripped down to his underwear, tossing his clothes onto the rocky ledge before dipping his toes into the water. The warmth seeped into his aching legs as he descended further.

And then he kept descending, submerging his entire head and staying underwater for a long moment. The heat enveloped him, easing his tension, and he felt, if only for a moment, like he was back where he belonged: by the sea. He could have been under seconds, or minutes, he just stayed down until his lungs pressed for air. When he resurfaced, he felt lighter, the worries washed away, and he allowed himself a smile at the bard.

"Okay, fine, the pool is nice."

The bard was glad to see that Finn seemed opened to the idea of joining him. He'd rather liked the pirate's company, truth be told, from his swashbuckling tales to his often dry and lewd sense of humor. He'd been able to have plenty of friendly banter with the man, though any time it had turned more flirtatious on Tryck's part, Finn seemed to clam up and avoid or flat out ignore it.

Not in the way someone with no interest would ignore it, either. More like he would ignore it on purpose. As if it was something Finn wasn't allowed to have.

It made Tryck grateful that at least he'd had acceptance of his identity since he'd been very young, and perhaps he was completely off base. But he'd had a hunch.

So, with the chance to get the man alone and relaxed, he hoped that perhaps Finn would open up more to him, or he'd confirmed that he was yet again just foolish and hopeful. He can't deny he wouldn't be a little overjoyed to find he had a chance with the pirate... though he wouldn't push and would back away should he find him uncomfortable.

But Tryck was getting ahead of himself. After all, they had to get to the hot spring first.

"It's monster free, I checked. Twice." Tryck said with a chuckle and a charming smile. "Come, follow me then."

The springs were not far from the camp at all, but far enough and tucked away to where the others wouldn't be able to so easily eavesdrop. There was an outcropping of rock hanging above the springs, shining with bioluminescent lichen glowing in blues, purples, and greens like the stars and auroras on the surface.

"Beautiful, isn't it? You could almost pretend you're looking up at the stars." Tryck said with a smile as he looked up at the lichen and then turned to look at Finn, then tapped his chest with the back of his hand before walking closer to the springs.

"Come on."

As he approached the water, Tryck removed his light and flowy tunic, tossing it aside before slipping out of his pants and undergarments, having already rid himself of his shoes back at camp. He didn't wait for Finn to make up his mind, nor did he look back before slipping down into the warm water.

It immediately feels soothing, and only when he is chest deep does he turn to see if Finn has followed suit.

[mazikeenhyde]

All is Fair in Love, War and Dominant Fuckery

POLY JUDGMENT DAY – 18+ MINORS DNI! 

WRESTLER-READER (female)  X WWE JUDGMENT DAY – RHEA RIPLEY, DAMIAN PRIEST, DOMINIK MYSTERIO, FINN BALOR 

WARNING - (A PURE & UNAPOLOGETIC ANGST FUELLED SMUT FICTION)

(Alcohol, verbal abuse, physical violence, angst, mentions of drug use)

This one is gonna get a little dark so….. Y’all beeeeen warned. What can I say? It’s KINKTOBER BABY, and personally I do love some dark-angst fueled smutty relationship drama!

All is Fair in Love, War and Dominant Fuckery… 

PART ONE 

It was late Friday evening; the sun had laid itself down on the crease of the horizon, exhausted and content with the days play as the moon prepared to take over its duty. Soft rain clouds hung low in the sky; their silver linings illuminated by the yellow tinged artificial light of the lamp posts dotted throughout the street. 

In a fast attempt to avoid the incoming rainstorm Rhea began making her way inside from the car. Reaching into her jacket pocket for her house keys she unlocked the front door to their shared home, her hands filled with a couple of shopping bags from a quick stop at the grocery store. The entire group were fortunate to have the full weekend off and had opted to have a full weekend at home together. A couple days of just them, of just her and her lovers. To get away from all the demanding cameras, all the nosey fans and the ever-challenging management & production team at WWE. Just the five of them with a mix of some good food, movie nights, warm cuddles and those oh so magical moments in the bedroom.

Except upon reaching the door Rhea could hear the muffled but increasingly loud voices from inside, what sounding like a screaming match between Y/N and Dominik? 

“What the hell?” Rhea muttered under her breath as she unlocked the door and made her way inside, dropping her own bag inside of the door, up against the wall and locked up the house behind her before making her way through the hallway to the kitchen. 

There, leaning against the cooking counters stood Finn and Damian, each with a drink in their hand looking ever more frustrated. Damian, who had opted for a cold bottle of beer straight from the fridge took a swig while offering a half smile to Rhea, the bottle still had small fragments of ice on the side of the label as it clung on to his skin, he ran his free hand over his head and through his tight braids leaving a few shards of ice behind which quickly melted from his own body heat, sighing as he did so. Meanwhile, Finn held a mug of hot coffee to his lips and took a sip raising his eyebrows in her direction. Taking a deep breath in he spoke.

“Welcome home love…” Finn said jokingly as he exhaled, the angry muffled voices above them continued, only getting louder with every passing minuite. All three of them glanced up at the ceiling, Damian shaking his head as they did. 

“Oy vey…” Damian stated, taking another swig of his beer. 

“What the hell is going on? I was gone for what… about an hour?” Rhea stated as she dropped the shopping bags on the counter, looking over at the clock on the wall. The contents of one of the bags had spilled out, to reveal boxes of fresh fruit, a packet of pre-made waffle mix and a container of fresh free-range eggs. 

“About an hour…?” Damian questioned looking over at Finn who tilted his head to the side and nodded, coffee still in hand. 

“Yep, about an hour? Id says that’s about how long they have been at it for.” He shook his head setting his coffee mug to the side and hopping up to take a seat on the edge of the countertop.

“What?!” Rhea exclaimed, rather surprised by their statement. 

“Mi Vida, about two minutes after you left they started.” Damian responded, finishing his drink and disposing of the bottle before offering to put the shopping away. 

Rhea removed her jacket and threw it to the side as she put her hands on her hips, looking up at the ceiling where it sounded as if a war had begun. It was no surprise to the three of them that y/n and Dom were arguing, being the youngest of the group they often bickered or fell out with each other. But it was always short lived and nine times out of ten, the whole argument was always over nothing. 

“What are they fighting about now?” Rhea questioned the boys. Damian who was putting the last of the groceries away looked over to Finn who was scrolling through social media on his phone. He looked up to Damian before they both glanced back at Rhea. 

“You don’t know do you…?” She stated. 

“Honestly love, we figured it was easier to just let them get on with it. You know what they are like” Finn responded, before returning to his phone. 

Damian closed the door and walked over to Rhea, running his hands up and down her arms, placing a gentle kiss on top of her head. “The gambling man I am, I would put money on the pair of them making up before dinner. And no doubt they will end up having a little make up session just to make us jealous” He took his hand to reach for her chin, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I know you Rhea, you don’t need to worry about them, they will be…” But Damian’s voice was quickly cut off when suddenly a loud crash came from upstairs, followed swiftly a loud thump and another loud crashing sound against the floor. 

All three of the judgment day members in a blind panic tossed everything to one side and scrambled their way up the stairs. Rhea leading the charge swung open the door to the master bedroom to a sight none of them were fully prepared for. 

“FUCK YOU, YOU SELF ENTITLED PRICK!” Y/n screamed at the top of her voice, her arms swinging by her side having just launched one of the bedside lamps straight at Dominik’s head. He had been fortunate enough for his reflexes to kick in and had ducked out of the way just in time, knocking over the cabinet behind him sending the television set crashing down to the floor. 

“You fucking psychotic bitch! The fuck is wrong with you!” Dom spat back pulling himself back to his feet, with sweat dripping from his head he ran his hands back through his dark-haired mullet, exposing a rather obvious red mark from his fall just above his eye. 

“Me?! What’s wrong with me? You are a selfish rat do you know that! No wonder your dad was happy to see the back of you!” 

Dom lunged forward towards y/n as the fire of a thousand suns grew inside of him, the hatred for his girlfriend growing every stronger by her words. Damian was quick to leap into action and hold him back whilst Finn grabbed a hold of y/n, locking his arms into hers so the two of them couldn’t rip each other apart. 

“I don’t see Rey racing to get you back, do you? You're pathetic Dom, a pathetic little LIAR!” Y/n laughed through her teeth as she ran her tounge across her lip which had been busted open from a previous scuffle only minutes prior to this declaration of war. 

“Arghhh, FUCK YOU!!!” Dom tried to throw himself at her, kicking his legs and yelling at the top of his voice while Damian and Finn both held on tightly, trying to keep them apart. 

“SHUT UP THE PAIR OF YOU!” Rhea stepped in to the middle of their path towards each other, having finally both seen and heard enough from the pair. 

“I don’t know what the HELL is going on right now but THIS… THIS IS NOT OKAY! This is NOT ACCEPTABLE!” She took a breath in and looked at each of them, turning her head and letting out a heavy sigh. “This is not how we do things, in this relationship we talk, we talk with our voice’s and we DO NOT put our hands on one another. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME” Rhea stated, trying to control her temper as her blood boiled at the thought of any of her lovers on purposely trying to hurt the other. 

Damian and Finn didn’t release their grip as they both looked at each other, lightly shaking their heads as each of them felt their own little warriors’ bodies tightening in their grip. 

“You two clearly cannot be in the same room as each other…. And that, that hurts me to see.” Rhea’s voice broke off at the end, you could see the upset in her eyes as they glazed over with emotion. 

For a minute both y/n and Dom paused, seeing the genuine pain they had inflicted on Rhea. But it only lasted a moment, because the second Damian and Finn released their grip on the pair they locked eyes again, and like a bull in a China shop that rage came back, and boy did it hit like a tsunami. 

Dominik and y/n once again lunged toward each other, only millimeters part before the boys managed to regain their grip around the fighting duo and pull them back.

“Oh brilliant, bloody brilliant. I don’t know what the matter is between you two, but you need to sort this shit out, and sort it out now!” Rhea demanded, making her way over to Dominik. She looked up at Priest and signaled for him to let go of the boy who was ever so slightly lifted of the floor. Dominik dropped  back to his feet and fidgeted on the spot, unable to control the rage that was growing inside of him. 

Rhea snapped her fingers in his face to gain his attention and taking her hand to his face she examined his now semi blackeye. Glancing over her shoulder to y/n in a very unimpressed gesture she returned her focus to Dom. 

“Dom, take a breath, stand still and tell me why you are fighting” She asked, releasing her grip on his face. But Dominik said nothing, his eyes solely locked on y/n and his face showing nothing but discontent for his partner. 

Rhea took a sharp breath and turned on the spot now facing y/n, she shrugged her shoulders, inviting y/n to answer the same question but just like Dominik, y/n kept her eyes locked on the boy, seemingly oblivious to everyone else. 

“This. Ends. Tonight. Do you hear me?!” Rhea stared the pair of them down before signaling for Finn to release y/n. 

Rhea now stood directly in-between the pair. 

“So, help me god if either of you take a step forward, I will show you a whole new world of hurt…” She said as she crossed her arms. Damian and Finn both took a step back from the situation in an attempt to begin clearing up the mess that had been created. 

Y/n breathing was heavy, her breaths short and her hands shook in a mix of adrenaline and an alcohol induced buzz. Dom looked down at her palms noticing and smirked. He cleared his throat to gain some attention as Rhea looked over to him. 

“How many…?” He questioned y/n. Damian and Finn paused, stopping what they were doing and looked over to the young boy in both confusion and curiosity. 

Y/n stood still, her hands continuing to shake as her eyes glazed over in a furious spite for Dom, he wasn’t about to cross the line, was he? 

“How many baby…” Dom asked again, his menacing smile growing as his dark eyes pierced through her. 

“Careful…” y/n whispered under her breath, the look they gave each other signified the love they had was gone, now replaced by a need for revenge on the other. “Don’t cross that line Dominik, you aren’t the only one with skeletons in your closet” Y/n glared back at Dom who offered her a wink, knowing full well just how much it would infuriate her. 

“How many what? What skeletons? We don’t have secrets, what the hell are you both talking about!?” Rhea said, throwing her hands in the air as she turned repeatedly looking between them. Damian and Finn looking between each other equally confused and concerned.

“What is wrong with you two tonight? You’ve fallen out before sure; you’ve argued many times but not to this extreme. Why are you so intent on hurting each other! It’s just not like you…” Damian exclaimed, shaking his head, equally hurt by the events of the evening. 

Dom huffed and walked away, removing his shirt and tossing it in the laundry basket as headed for the bathroom to take a shower. Stopping for a moment he turned to look at Rhea, jerking his head for her to join him, but Rhea was more concerned with dealing with the incidents of the evening rather than ignoring it all just to have a quickie. 

Y/n turned and attempted to walk out of the room, her legs wobbling ever so slightly as she gained her composure. 

“Y/N!” Rhea shouted racing after her, now standing at the top of the stairs while y/n was already halfway down, Finn had swiftly followed behind her while Damian had opted to try and talk some sense into Dominik. "Where are you going?!" Rhea yelled.

Y/n paused for a moment, refusing to look up or make eye contact, instead staring emptily in front of her she responded “Gym” before carrying on. 

“I’ll join you” Finn stated, edging his way around Rhea and racing down the stairs after y/n. He paused and looked up to his auzzie lover whose eyes were full of worry. “It will do them good to be apart, talk to Dom, we will work this out… I promise” Finn smiled before running ahead to catch up once more to y/n who had already made her way out the front door and into the pouring rain. 

“But we….” Rhea called out but upon hearing the door slam behind Finn she collapsed onto the stair banister and sighed. “We have a gym here… and it’s raining.” 

-TEN MINUTES LATER – 

Rhea rose back to her feet, wiping the tears from her eyes and collected herself. She turned on the spot and strode into the master bedroom, she stomped straight past Damian who was adjusting the television set back into its place. Rhea opened the door to the ensuite bathroom and pulled at the shower curtain, reaching in and grabbing onto Dominik’s arm before pulling him out. He was quick to grab a towel from the rain and wrap it around his waist before Rhea threw him onto the edge of the bed and bent down so her face was in line with his. 

“Firstly….Dominik. If you ever, ever lay a hand on y/n again so help me god I will make you pay. Do you understand me?” Rhea was calm and collected, her eyes staring into his soul. Dom took a hard swallow and gulped, nodding his head. 

“Good. Secondly, do not think your actions this evening have been forgiven, you will both deal with the consequences of trashing this bedroom later, do you understand?” 

Again, Dom nodded, very aware than the Dominant and primal Mami had fully taken over the situation now. 

Rhea stood back up, straightening her back and crossed her arms. 

“Now, spill….” Rhea meant business, and Dom knew it. In fact so did Damian who was trying to keep himself busy reconnecting the television cables and stay distracted from his increasing hard on that was pulsing between his thighs. 

Dom paused for a moment, unsure of what to do, because while he hated Y/n in that moment, he didn’t really want to hurt her, he wanted to protect her, but doing that would run the risk of his own secrets coming out. 

“Dominik….” Rhea stated once more, bringing his attention fully back on her. 

He took another hard gulp and turned his head, pointing over to y/n bedside draw. 

Rhea walked over calmly and opened it to find nothing, it was empty. She turned her head, questioning the boy. Dom stood, holding tightly to the towel and made his way over, reaching a hand into the draw and with one finger slid the back of the draw compartment across, revealing a false back. 

He looked down at his feet and took a breath before stepping back as Rhea knelt down to look inside. 

“Fuck….” She said. 

TBC 

[hb-writes]

Drunk Shakespeare

Summary: It’s Summer 1925 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. Isiah and Clara decide to end their work day early to escape the heat of the betting shop, but find the heat in the air between them is harder to escape than they thought.

Characters: Clara Shelby x Isiah Jesus, Finn Shelby pops in for a moment.

Prompt: Almost caught

Content Warnings: Just vibes and a little kissing.

Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

Clara watched the long hand of her brother's old pocket watch as it moved around the clock face, the quiet ticks and tocks seeming to mock her as they seemed to slow and delay in her mind.

After what had seemed like an eternity squashed into a mere morning and early afternoon, she was basically caught up on the books. Or at least, if she wasn't precisely caught up, Clara wasn't feeling particularly motivated to keep working on them. Not that she'd been doing anything that could really be considered ‘work’ for the last hour and a half.

Shoving the pocketwatch away, she glanced at Isiah. He was across the room in Finn’s office, twirling a pencil in his fingers. Clara wasn't sure what he was meant to be ‘working’ on in her brother's office, but she assumed pencil twirling wasn't it. 

It had been a slow afternoon. No one had been keen on laying bets or working, so the shop had emptied early. Everyone had finished up their day's work and gone home.

In this heat, Clara didn't blame them. Despite the mound of work she had to complete for her brother, she didn't want to be here either.

Clara had already shed her sweater. She couldn't respectably lose any more layers or she'd be left in just her slip, but she longed for it. She longed for a breeze or dip in one of the ponds on the grounds of Arrow House. She longed for a chunk of ice from the ice box in the kitchen. She longed for the end of this Friday afternoon, the end to this stale, sticky existence.

Clara pushed herself back from the desk—Tommy's desk, though he never used it anymore. The chair was more hers than his these days. Tommy had once said it could be Clara’s one day—the boss's chair—but even though it was her who sat in it more than him, Clara wasn't the boss. Today, she felt no better than any other working person staring at the clock and waiting for the end of their shift. It seemed that was all she’d done all day.

She'd have to come back and finish what she hadn’t accomplished before the end of the month—over the weekend or early before she was due at the Jamaica Row office on Monday morning. It wasn't smart putting it off, but Clara didn't care. The heat had zapped any sense of caring from her system, leeching all of the diligent conscientiousness she was known for straight out of her. 

"What are the odds we get caught out if we lock up early?” 

Isiah's foot fell off the desk and slammed against the floor, Clara's sudden presence in the room startling him more than it should have considering a wall of windows lined the office and he’d faced that way, his glossy gaze set out toward the empty shop she crossed over on her way to get to him.

"Christ, Clara—Trying to stop my fucking heart, eh?"

Clara sighed, rolling her eyes at Isiah’s dramatics out of nothing more than habit. The whole bit was familiar. He usually would have wrapped her head in an arm, ruffling her hair as retribution, but today he barely moved, barely even allowed the muscles of his mouth to pull into a smirk. 

Clara was glad for it because if Isiah laid a hand on her, Clara thought she might scream. The idea of him coming anywhere near her in this heat, of his warm hand in her already frizzy hair…she felt warmer just thinking about it.

"The only thing I'm trying to do is stop working."

"You're finished?”

Clara shrugged. She didn't have it in her to lie, but she didn’t quite want to admit she’d been doing close to nothing all day either. "Are you?'

"I've been done for hours." 

"What are you sitting in here for, then?"

She could see that she wasn't the only warm one. Isiah had rolled his shirt sleeves. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She couldn't imagine why he'd choose to sit here when he could be anywhere else.

Isiah raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?" 

"Fucking hell. You’re babysitting. Tommy's such a—" 

“Finn," Isiah interrupted.

"What?"

"It was Finn’s idea. Said 'I've got a meeting across town. Keep an eye on her.’ Not Tom."

Clara hummed, filing that annoying development away to complain about later. For today it was an order from Finn’s mouth, but before Finn, it had been John, and before that, she knew the order had originated with Tommy and Arthur. Tommy, who Isiah no routinely called 'Tom' and defended, as if they were friends. On the same side of things. Clara let the thought go, too hot for the annoyance that came with thinking too hard on her brothers.

"Where'd Finn go, anyway?'

"Meeting across town," Isiah answered, repeating the words with a smirk. 

Clara breathed deeply, stifling the urge to hit him. She could imagine herself doing it, the satisfaction of her open palm—all clammy and swollen with the heavy moisture of the air—smacking against Isiah’s stupid, sweaty forehead. 

“I just said.” Isiah added, stupid grin still on his face. “The heat getting to you, there, Miss Shelby?” 

It was hotter in Finn's office than it was in Tommy's. There were no windows to the outside here, no airflow. Clara pulled at her dress, the fabric sticking to her collarbone as she tried to catch some relief.

“I meant who’s he with?” 

Isiah shrugged. “Afraid that's above my pay grade. Can’t be asking after the boss’s whereabouts now, can I, love?” 

Clara rolled her eyes. Finn wasn’t any sort of boss, not really, even if he was acting like it lately. And the amount of things that fell above Isiah's pay grade had dwindled over the last few years. She was nearly certain Isiah knew exactly who Finn was meeting with and what it was about, but she let it go, figuring that if it was important or relevant to her, he'd have just told her. The fact that he was playing with her told her it wasn't either of those things.

“Fine. Tell me, love, does the 'boss' have anything good in that drawer there?” Clara nodded toward the desk and Isiah shook his head, chuckling. 

“What are you shaking your head for? What’s he going to do?” she asked. “Fire us for borrowing his whiskey and skiving off?” 

“Tom—”

“I don’t care what Tommy or Arthur or John or Finn has said. It’s hot and there’s no reason for us to be cooped up here. I’ll take my chances with the lot of them.” Clara reached down, pulling out the bottle of whiskey. She opened it and took a slug before she handed the bottle to Isiah. After he drank, Clara held a hand out to him. 

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the hand they both knew was clammy and damp with sweat. Clara ran her hand down the side of her dress before presenting it again. 

Isiah rolled his eyes as he slipped his hand into hers and Clara groaned, dropping his slicked hand in an instant. Isiah smirked as he ran his hand down the side of her skirts same as Clara had just done. No other man would’ve dared to slide his hand down Clara Shelby’s side like that, but this was Isiah and they were alone in the shop—no prying eyes to watch over them for a change.

“You’re insufferable.”

Isiah chuckled. “You’ve said so plenty enough.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Well, between you and me, it’s mutual.”

Clara yanked his hand then, pulling him out of the chair and to his feet. Isiah stumbled for her benefit. 

“You’re testy today.”

“I’m hot,” Clara answered, walking towards the staircase. She tugged Isiah along up the first few steps, her arm straining as Isiah stopped on the third step from the bottom.

“And we’re going to the second floor to cool off?” 

Clara took a deep breath before stopping and turning back to Isiah. 

“We’re all locked up?”

Isiah nodded. He'd gone around to check all of the doors after Finn headed out. “Have been for hours.” 

“Good, now shut up and do what you're told.” 

Isiah snorted. “Yes, ma’am.”

Clara smirked at that. At least someone respected her. Even if it was just Isiah, and even if he was only playing, the telltale smile tugging at his lips, a bit of glee right there dancing in his eyes. Because even with those things present, Clara knew some part of it was genuine. Isiah respected her more than most people in her life. Believed in her more than most, too. And he had always offered up a bit of his power in the context of their relationship, allowing her to win on most things. 

Not every single thing, but most. 

Enough of the time that Clara knew when he was doing it. 

As they moved up the stairs, the heat wrapped around them like a blanket. Someone had shut all of the windows, the air up there even more stale than it had been down in the shop. 

Clara had a moment of doubt while the stifling heat grew, smothering them both and challenging Clara's breathing. Sweat collected on her back and chest under her clothes. She cursed in her head that maybe Isiah was right. Maybe there was no relief to be found on this Friday afternoon, not unless she wanted to give in and head out to her brother's house. 

But Clara didn’t want to. If she did, Tommy would have questions about the books and whether or not she’d caught up yet. She didn’t have it in her to try to lie to him. If she was being honest, she didn’t have it in her for much of anything except simply being. 

Walking the stairs of her childhood home with Isiah’s hand growing sweaty in hers, Clara was reminded of simpler days. Of times when she’d been just allowed to be. Even then, she’d been an anxious child. Overwhelmed and feeling like she was pulled in a million different ways, but looking back on it now, Clara was nostalgic for a certain freedom inherent to childhood. A certain freedom that came with not fully understanding the actions and motivations of the adults surrounding her. 

She had always sought to understand, had always wanted to be a part of things, and now that she was—now that she and Isiah both were thoroughly integrated parts of the things they’d once begged to be included in—Clara would give anything for the two of them to go back to before. 

To be reading together from a book, or pretending to be Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. To be just two kids in their own little bubble, just the two of them against the world. It was a lovely thought, accompanied by a lovely feeling of nostalgia and as they stepped onto the second floor—just the two of them there within the walls of number 6 Watery Lane—Clara thought maybe it could still be the case.

The times were less frequent these days, but there were still moments when Clara would catch Isiah's gaze across the room, the two of them immediately caught up in some secret conversation that no one else even knew was taking place. 

And sometimes, the two of them would dance, and as Isiah spun Clara around, she could’ve sworn there was no one else in the world. On those occasions, it was as if the music played of its own accord, no one needed to pull the strings or croon the melodies, the two of them feeling anonymous and alone even though they were surrounded by other couples. 

“Come on, Siah,” Clara said as she tugged Isiah’s hand, some part of her certain that she could reach out and grasp that feeling, as if it was something she could trap and hold onto, keeping it close to her heart. 

Isiah smiled at Clara’s impatience, his body so near to hers that he could feel the heat radiating off her back, a warmth separate from that of the air around them, almost pulsing between them. 

Clara dropped his hand as she stepped into her bedroom, still neat and tidy and kept as if the 12-year-old girl she once was still lived there. As she moved toward the window, Clara pressed the whiskey bottle into Isiah’s hand, not bothering to look back to confirm it was within his grasp before she let go. 

Isiah leaned against her dresser, watching as she struggled with the window, the wooden frame stiff and swollen and thoroughly stuck from the heat and years of disuse. 

As he watched, Isiah wondered...when was the last time Clara Shelby had climbed out through her bedroom window? When was the last time Isiah Jesus had climbed out with her? 

Neither of them could remember, and it seemed like the room had forgotten as well, the window remaining belligerently shut even as Clara dug in her heels and leveraged all of her strength in trying to raise the pane, a new layer of sweat gleaming at her hairline as she struggled. 

“Alright,” Isiah started as he eased off the dresser, the whiskey bottle set aside. “Let me—”

“No!” Clara answered, her voice booming with the strength of her struggle as she kicked a leg out in Isiah’s general direction to keep him back. “I’ll get it. You choose a book.”

Clara sent her foot out again, this time directing it toward the other side of the room, and Isiah turned to follow the direction of her kick, straight to the chair beside her bed where a stack of books sat piled dangerously high. 

The pile was a mix of old and new, a selection of books from her childhood and few of her more recent favorites interspersed with a few of the books Isiah remembered as coming from Tommy’s shelf. Those books had once been forbidden to Clara, but Isiah supposed they were far beyond forbidden books at this stage. And Tommy Shelby had far bigger concerns than what types of books his sister was reading. 

Isiah fished a book out of the pile before returning his attention to Clara. He was about to sit down on her bed to watch the show of her struggle when the window flew open, the sudden movement accompanied by a rush of air and a celebratory shout from Clara. 

“I told you I would get it,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow as she turned to him.

Isiah rolled his eyes fondly and crossed the room to grab the whiskey, a swallowed comment on the tip of his tongue because even though Isiah and Clara usually passed quips back and forth, he was more interested in getting out on the roof, more interested in the reprieve of fresh air. Isiah pressed the book and bottle into Clara's hands before swinging himself out through the window. 

Isiah was through in a small span of seconds, but it was certainly a more difficult maneuver than he remembered now that his body was all long limbs and the window seemed infinitely smaller than it once was. 

Reaching back through the frame, he took the book and the bottle Clara handed off. Isiah set them both aside before holding his hand out back through the open window.

“I can—”

“Just let me help, won’t you?” Isiah interrupted. He wiped his hand down the front of his pants before holding it out again. “Gotta fight me about everything.” 

“I’m not—” Clara grasped his hand, allowing Isiah to tug her through, and letting go once she was steady on her feet. “—fighting. I just—”

“Can do it yourself,” Isiah answered. “I know. Doesn’t mean you should always have to.” 

Clara huffed even though a part of her appreciated the sentiment. She tried to be independent. She tried to do everything for herself. She tried to prove how smart and strong and capable she was to just about everyone, but she didn’t have to prove any of that to Isiah. 

Clara unbuttoned the top of her dress, gently fanning herself with the loose fabric as she looked over the courtyard. She took a deep breath, grateful for the grey and cloudy Birmingham skies that shielded them from the heady rays of sun she usually craved.

The roof outside of her bedroom wasn’t exactly the reprieve she had imagined, but it was marginally better than the dense staleness of the shop and her bedroom. 

“Romeo and Juliet?” Clara asked as she lowered herself to the roof and reached for the book. “Really, Isiah?” 

While Clara enjoyed her Shakespeare, the play hadn’t exactly been her favorite, and her memories of the piece were tainted by the fact that she’d first read it at school, with Juliet’s role going to a girl she wasn’t particularly fond of. Clara would’ve preferred to revisit Sherlock Holmes or one of Tommy’s old books. 

Isiah shrugged and sat down beside her, reaching for the bottle. “Reminded me of when you tried stepping out with that Italian kid.” 

He said it as if he didn’t remember the name of the ‘Italian kid.' As if it had been nothing but a blip. As if her social connections hadn’t gotten her into nothing but trouble that year and been the source of arguments between her and her family, and her and Isiah.

Clara shoved Isiah’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t stepping out with anyone.”

It had been a friendship. Maybe with a hint of a crush, but there had been no stepping out. Nothing close. Her brothers' reputation had seen to that.

“And anyway, it’s more like when you were stepping out with that Cheapie girl.” 

Isiah raised an eyebrow. “What are you on about?” 

“Ruth,” Clara answered. “Practically Wally Bartow in a dress.” 

He snorted. “It was one dance, Clara. Didn’t even know her name. Had no clue she was a Bartow.”

Clara shrugged. “You looked awfully cozy if I remember properly.” 

“Well, that’s just how I dance, love.” Isiah winked at her before taking a swig from the bottle. “You know that better than anyone.

“And I'm sorry to inform you, but if either of us is destined to have a love life like these two—” Isiah nodded towards the book. “—it’s you. No matter who you end up with, it’ll be like Montagues and Capulets. Shelbys against whatever poor sap you choose.” 

Isiah knocked her shoulder, the touch telling her it was only a joke. Clara stayed leaning against him as long as she could manage in the heat before prying the bottle from his fingers to take a sip.

“Ada says us Shelby girls are cursed that way.” 

Isiah reached for the book, thumbing through the pages rather than answering. He had an idea about that particular curse. He had been old enough to remember how Ada’s marriage had been handled, and even if he hadn’t been, Isiah knew how Clara was being managed. 

How they both had been managed for years now. 

Isiah reached out for the bottle, taking another swig before he started reading.

“Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene…”

They passed a few hours reading and talking and sipping from the bottle, the pair moving on to gentle conversation interspersed with quotes from Shakespeare’s catalog once the pages became too difficult to read in the dimming light. Lost in the throes of conversation, easy laughter and the cooling night breeze, Isiah and Clara were suspended in what felt like a world that was just their own, their sense of time and place and awareness pushed aside.

Clara was giggling at some obscure quote Isiah had pulled seemingly out of nowhere when Isiah sensed suddenly that the world was no longer theirs alone, his attention gone to the far end of the shared courtyard, a familiar chorus of boisterous laughter reaching his ear from across the space. 

Isiah was faintly aware of Clara naming the play he’d quoted before she shared her next quote, a gentle laughter lacing her words as she spoke, but the awareness of his heart pounding against his chest was stronger, a sudden urge to quiet her—to shield their presence there on the roof—taking over.

Overcome with that urge, Isiah could’ve shushed her or set his hand over her mouth to stifle the words.

Or he could've taken a breath and calmed himself and simply let her finish. 

It wasn't as if they were doing anything wrong. There was no reason to hide.

Isiah could have let Clara tell him, ‘I do desire we may be better strangers,’ before dissolving into giggles. He could’ve then told her the quote was from ‘As You Like It,’ a quote which he was intimately familiar with because Clara had directed it at him and Finn a number of times before, sometimes in jest, sometimes because she wished to hurt them. 

No one would question Isiah and Clara being out on the roof with a book and a bottle of whiskey, least of all Finn. People were plenty used to their antics, but something felt different tonight so Isiah only let Clara get half a sentence out before he placed his hand at the back of her head, drawing her in close and pressing his lips to hers in the dark, catching her words and quieting her so efficiently that it was nearly silent on the roof as Finn and the junior Peaky Boys passed over the back threshold of no. 6. 

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but Isiah felt Clara’s whole body relax within his touch. She leaned into the hand he cradled behind her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss he hadn’t intended on giving in the first place, her hands reaching out for him, her fingernails grazing his scalp in a way that sent shivers down his spine. 

Isiah pulled away, but even so, for a moment, he forgot where he was. He forgot why he’d kissed her, or at least he’d forgotten whatever justification he’d initially provided himself for pressing his lips to hers. He forgot about Finn and the boys. He forgot about Shakespeare and feuds and consequences. With his warm hand still on the back of Clara’s sweaty neck, barely able to see the details of her now flushed face, it was once again just the two of them there in the world. 

With their faces still so close that Clara could feel Isiah’s warm whiskey-tinged breath on her face, her eyes shifted to his lips. She couldn’t remember what they were talking about before. She didn’t know why he’d kissed her. She had heard the back door slam, some part of her aware of her twin's proximity, an awareness Aunt Polly had always tol her was part of her gifts, but as Clara pulled Isiah's lips back to hers, she found she didn’t care to remember there was more to the world than the two of them and this. 

She didn’t want to question it, and yet, Clara was first to pull away this time, her ears far more sensitive to the familiar sound of someone turning the handle of her childhood bedroom’s door than Isiah was. With a sudden swiftness, she removed herself from Isiah’s hold and pushed him back against the roof as she extended her hand up to the sky. 

“There you are,” Finn said, sticking his head out the open window to see what Clara was pointing at. "What are the two of you out here for?"

Clara tilted her head back to her brother. “Constellations and Shakespeare. Would you like to join us?” she asked, the words feeling odd to her as they passed through her swollen lips.

“No,” Finn snorted. “It's payday. We’re heading to the Garrison, and then maybe to a few other—” 

“No, thank you. I'm staying here,” Clara answered, even though it wasn’t exactly an invite Finn had extended, but more of a declaration. An order.

A flash of something passed over Finn’s face. Clara could barely see it in the dark, but she figured it was a bit of annoyance, maybe, or a touch of shock at being refused. It seemed like more and more, Finn was coming to expect the same sort of compliance from Clara that the others did, forgetting that it was mere minutes that separated their births rather than years.

“It’s too hot, Finn,” Clara added, her tone a bit softer. “I have no desire to be holed up in the snug, squashed between you lot.”

“Alright, then. Isiah?” Finn tried.

“She’s got a point, mate.” 

Clara heard someone shouting from the floor below, the details muffled by the shut door, but Finn seemed to recognize their meaning well enough. 

"Are you sure?" Clara sensed the question was for Isiah even though they could barely see each other's faces in the growing dark. "Drinks are on Shelby Company Ltd. tonight," Finn added, as if Isiah's drinks weren't usually on the house, anyway.

"It's alright. You go ahead with the boys," Isiah offered. "I'll keep an eye on Clara."

Clara's elbow twitched, the desire to ram it into Isiah's ribcage surging as she caught the hint of a smirk on Isiah's face, but Clara stopped herself knowing that it had been the right thing to say.

Finn nodded his understanding in the dark, his attention pulled to the stairs once again by a sudden noise.

"Don't fall asleep out there, Clara."

Clara heaved a breath to stop herself from telling him he had no business telling her where she could or couldn't fall asleep, but Isiah beat her to it, telling Finn he would handle it.

No matter that Finn would likely be the one who needed assistance finding his bed before the night was through...

"Have a good night," Finn said as he stepped away from the window, leaving Isiah and Clara alone. They leaned back against the roof, the two of them staring at the sky in silence as they listened to the sounds of Finn and the boys heading out through the back door, their shouting and laughter echoing as they traversed the shared courtyard. 

When the echoes died away, Clara stretched out her fingers, seeking the familiar roughness of Isiah’s palm. 

“That was bad,” Isiah said, his fingers closing around hers. “Close...we almost got caught.”  

Clara heaved a breath before turning to face him. “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” 

Isiah snorted. He glanced briefly to his right to meet Clara's gaze in the dark before tipping his head back to the sky.

"Hamlet," Isiah answered softly, squeezing her hand gently before releasing her fingers.

They had been through this time and time again, the two of them dancing around the label of what they were. Friends. Best friends. Something more. They had settled on friends as far as most of the world was concerned, but that didn’t mean the lines weren’t still blurry at times, their belligerent feelings tangled and confused and persistent. For years now, they had maintained a mostly unspoken agreement that they’d keep anything beyond friendship hidden—from themselves, from one another, from everyone else. 

Most especially from everyone else. 

They'd learned early on that it wasn't worth the strife. It wasn't worth the fight. Any resistance had been squashed down time and again. Somehow, this felt easier. Less painful.

If it was up to the two of them, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps they’d have tried at love and failed, and moved on by now. Or perhaps they would have tried and it would have been easy. Smooth.

Perhaps there would be no confusion or jealousy or hiding. No dismissing their closeness as nothing more than echo of a childhood friendship, no stinging comments on who the other had stepped out with—the slights used both as a weapon and a protection to guard their tender hearts. 

But as it was, Clara and Isiah had never been given a proper chance at something more. A boundary had been set for them at the outset, a series of orders they’d both been too young to fight at the time. They’d been at the mercy of the powers that be, and even though they were older now, they were still at the mercy of that power.

Or maybe they still danced around the boundary because it felt easier, somehow safer for them both to keep that prescribed distance between them. 

“Perhaps I am destined for tragedy, Isiah.” Clara mused. “Or simply to be alone. Unloved for eternity.” 

“You’re not alone, love.” Isiah reached for the hand he’d dropped only moments before. “I’m right here.” 

“And you know I love you," he added as Clara curled toward him, resting her head against his chest. 

Clara sighed and nodded. 

“I love you, too,” she added, and Isiah’s chest fell with the breath he’d been holding. 

“Can we not just pretend that’s enough?” Clara asked. “Just for tonight?”

They were dangerous questions and Clara asked them without turning to observe Isiah’s face. She could feel the tenseness of his body beneath her, the fear her questions provoked.

“Like it’s just us in the world and no one else?” she tried, a question and a wish because the house was empty and the roof was dark and it was unlikely they’d be caught. 

Isiah feared that a little, but more than he feared getting caught—for they’d successfully explained away so much over the years and he had no doubt they could manage it again—Isiah feared the two of them getting caught up in things. He feared getting caught up in the true feelings between them, the ones they’d so carefully worked to keep a hold on all of these years, a carefully manicured relationship that allowed them to be close, but not so close that they fell over the edge. 

For even though Isiah dated other girls, and even though Clara insisted that Isiah Jesus was just a friend, they both knew there was something more between them. A magnetic pull, something in their hearts that they both knew to be true love. 

In the moments when the two of them could be honest with each other, when the rest of the world fell away...on nights like tonight, it wasn’t especially unusual for their lips to meet. It wasn’t unusual for Clara’s hopelessly romantic naïveté to make a showing. For some part of her to feel that it could be easy. That it could work.

And it wasn’t unusual for Isiah to agree. For every part of him to want the very thing they spent the bulk of their days denying and shutting down.

They were both craving it now though, both barely able to remember why they ever did hold back. It was just the two of them there on the roof beneath a blanket of smog-covered stars, both of them still hazy around the edges due to the whiskey and the heat and the memory of their kiss, the memory of his hands on the back of her neck. 

Those things made it easy to hope. They made it easy to forget.

Because if they were surrounded by friends at the Garrison or out at Arrow House or under the watchful eye of a Blinder, Clara and Isiah wouldn’t even entertain the thought that they could be more than friends. Under those circumstances, they’d be easily convinced that regardless of the feelings between them, it was much too complicated, much too difficult. 

“Maybe we should just run away. Find a place in the world where there are stars in the sky and no Shelbys.”

Isiah snorted. “Not even you?”

“Well, just me,” Clara amended. “Just me and you and no one else we've ever met. It could be easy.”  

“Maybe,” Isiah hummed, his hand tilting Clara’s face up to his as he spoke. “but the course of true love never did run smooth, Clara Shelby” 

“A Midsummer Night’s—” Clara started, only for the rest of the play’s title to be caught up by Isiah’s lips. 

They both knew it wasn’t a good idea, dabbling in love when neither was ready to commit to the war it would be. Neither was quite ready for the consequences of them moving beyond friendship, moving against her family’s wishes and decrees, but they let it happen anyway, some piece of their hearts holding on to the hope that someday they wouldn’t be hiding on a rooftop, stealing hungry kisses in the dark.

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

[yuurivoice]

Finn's wiki entry is a goddamn mess but I cooked up a fairly creative way to make sense of it. It forced me to tip my hand a little bit, but I think it's worth it and only the real fiends are locked in to the point where they'll be looking at a damn wiki lmfao

Getting close to my first draft of everything critical to the narrative being done. All characters under the BitterSweet umbrella and the extended narrative, the plot summaries, and their listener pages.

Lucien and Jack will likely be pretty bare bones for the time being, and aside from Finneas all Evalas content will be private (and probably not written lol) until the relevant debuts.

I'm taking several hours of my day this week to really try and claw my way through it. Content is on ice until BS Director's Cut is done but I'm trying to use the time to catch up on things that have lingered for a while. Plus, Evalas Origin videos are in production now.

It's a lot, my head is spinning, but I'll be very happy when things can see the light of day.

[dicethrow]

"You know..." Finn started, stepping up beside Gale and reaching for the kitchen blade. He gave it a twirl between his fingers, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I spent most of my teens in kitchens. I’m pretty good at chopping meat and veg, if you need a hand."

He glanced at Gale, then down at the still in the chest by the centre of camp. He tried to keep his tone light, friendly even. Finn had learned one important thing back in his youth from Jon: the kitchen was a safe place. A place where you could talk, vent, or just let your frustrations out on the chopping board. Sometimes, it was easier to get shit off your chest with a knife in your hand and a pile of veg to dice.

He wanted to be to Gale how Jon was to him, a friend.

He lifted his head, aware of his wavy hair hanging somewhat limp around his features. Besides the loose threads that had tangled up, a clear sign of his only recent dragging from his bedroll, it was a massive mess... he should really have taken time to brush it. Ah, well. He cleared his throat, trying to straighten his spine. Offering a smile at the other, Gale nodded. "Something to that effect." he said, hearing the rasp in his voice. Clearing his throat, Gale took a slow, steady breath. "Thought I better get started on making some food for dinner, uh." he lifted a hand to rub over his cheek and try to smooth back some of the more irritating strands.

[rainydayz-nstuff]

Adventure Time

You can probably tell what I’m mostly going to be posting about 🫤 Anyways, this is briefly based on my own AT fanfic that I have.

So here is Finn x Ice Kings Kid! Reader (How you met)

Let’s start off with how you appeared since you’re human. Gunter found you while messing around in Ice King’s ‘research lab’

It was actually Simon’s old lab.

You, with very out dated clothes, were stuck in an Ice Pod where you’ve been asleep for many, many, years.

Ice King heard Gunter’s ‘wenks’ so he found both Gunter and a sleeping human

At first he asked Gunter if he had made a statue, then he opened the pod and you… nearly fell on your face.

Ice King caught you and realized you were still knocked out, and he kindly brought you to his bed and laid you down. He spent the next few hours pacing around the room and staring at you while he ate trail mix

When you woke up, he was chomping away and he was completely zoned out. Like, his pupils were huge.

You stared at him before blinking slowly. Finally, Ice King glanced down at you while letting out a hum. You locked eyes before he shrieked and started choking on his trail mix.

“Oh! Geeze, I’m sorry!” You instantly apologized.

Ice King recovered while taking deep breaths. You were now sitting up and he could tell you were kind of young.

Then, an idea hit him.

“I’m going to adopt you!”

“… You gonna what?

Ice king is now officially your dad (here you go people with daddy issues)

HES ACTUALLY A GOOD DAD NGL

He teaches you how to play the drums, the keyboard, writing fan fiction, ruling the kingdom, how he’s gonna kid nap possible wives-

You just let him rant on and on because he seems happy to talk with you

He’ll also offer to kidnap anybody you may be interested in, he doesn’t judge.

MAKES A CROWN FOR YOU! It never melts, and it looks like a mini version of his!

Cried the first time you wore it in front of him

Okay, onto the rest-

He set up a coronation to officially welcome you to the kingdom as his child.

Sends out posters, invitations, notes tied to rocks, and some people actually showed up (over half are kidnapped princesses because why not?)

Finn and Jake showed up because they found out about this coronation and thought it was a trick to lure in princesses or he kidnapped someone and was going to make them stay in his kingdom forever.

Right as the official Ice crown was to be placed on your head, they kicked the doors open and stopped the ceremony.

Ice King, like usual, got mad and instantly flew in the air to use his powers.

He flew up too quickly and knocked himself out when he hit the ceiling.

Before you could rush over to your dad, Finn grabbed your hand and whisked you away like a bride

He gave you a reassuring smile to try and convince you that you were now safe

It didn’t make you safe

“Hey! Put me down!” You struggled to get out of his grasp. “Seriously, who are you?!”

Finn stopped running before he sat you down. Your shimmery light blue, bordering white, outfit matched the icy floor. “My names Finn, and that was Jake.”

His toothy smile and heroic pose made you stare at him blankly before you turned around. “I’m going back to see my dad.”

Finn’s face fell and he tried to grab your arm. “Hey, wait! Don’t go back there, it’s dangerous!” He tried to warn you, but your brushed him off.

“Don’t care. My dad just got knocked out, and I don’t think Gunter knows how to use bandages.”

After marching back inside, you found your dad mumbling to himself. And Gunter was stuck in bandages.

After getting the little guy out, you helped your dad and picked him up to bring him to his bed.

All the guests had left after the ambush so you changed out of the ceremony attire, and then put on normal clothes only with the crown on this time.

Finn, very interested in who you are, spied on you and noted how… familiar you seemed.

You had never met before, but he felt like you were something he was missing.

Then he realized you were human.

He outed himself when he gasped before he also fell to the ground and made a loud crash.

You stood tall over him while he stared up at you. Your eyes glared down at his nervous form.

“Get out of here.” Your voice laced with venom, but oddly enough… he blushed.

Finn stuttered a bit while you raised an eyebrow. He then quickly got up, grabbed your hand, kissed it, then ran away

You never told your dad what happened, but you still didn’t comprehend what just happened.

[madhatterbri]

Unbothered | F.B.

Summary: Can I please request a Finn Balor x ring announcer/reader fic?, where Finn loves showing off in the ring because he knows the reader is watching him, but she acts like she's unbothered 😉.

Author's Note: I took it one step further. I hope that's okay. ❤️

Requested by anon.

Finn Balor Masterlist

Unbothered Part 2

Taglist: @theworldofotps @plentyoffandoms

"It sure looks like Finn is showing off tonight for the main event," Michael Cole mentioned with a smile. He stared at his paper while trying to hide a smile. Pat McAfee laughed next to him and looked at Y/N. She glared at both men. The two were having fun at her expense lately.

"Well, he does have quite the woman to impress. Miss Y/N is our wonderful ring announcer and has certainly caught the eye of Finn. He is quite the catch to you know? Zero percent body fat," Pat commented and winked at his ring announcer. He fingers formed a 0 to elaborate on his previous comment. Y/N rolled her eyes and focused on the match.

The Irish man wasn't shy about showing off to her. His moves were bigger and flashier than they needed to be. His light eyes would lock on to her to make sure she was watching. When he completed his move, Finn would look for a reaction. Sometimes, she would roll her eyes. Other times, she would clap sarcastically. She was rewarded with a smile on his face.

Tonight didn't go exactly as planned. Finn stood on the top rope to perform a Coup de Grace. He turned to look at her like he normally did. When he saw she was watching, he jumped to perform his finishing move. His opponent didn't calculate the landing.

Finn landed on the man awkwardly. His ankle twisted. Y/N knew something was wrong the moment Finn didn't look at her. He automatically pinned the guy. The commentary table commented on the injury he might have sustained for those watching at home. They went off the air, and medic came out to help him get to the back.

The announcers and Y/N took a couple of pictures with fans. She couldn't hide the worry on her face. Maybe he was really injured. If only he would stop being a show off.

"You, uh, looking a little concerned, kid. Why don't you check on him?" Pat asked and motioned towards the ramp with his head.

"I guess," she answered. Truthfully, that was the only thing she had thought about. After a few more pictures, she apologized and started to take off from Michael and Pat.

"You think they gonna name their first kid after me someday?" He asked Michael. The two men laughed and continued to interact with the audience.

Y/N made it to the medical room and knocked on the door. Nervously, she crossed her arms over her body. The locker room would have a field day with her being there to see them. All the teasing, especially from Judgment Day, would never cease.

"Come in," Finn's Irish accent called through the door. She grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.

Finn couldn't hide his shock when he saw Y/N. He was expecting someone from his faction. The injured wrestler slowly sat up. His pant leg was hiked up. A bag of ice placed high on his ankle. His shoe was left next to the medical bed.

"Impressive. Showed off so much you ended up in medical," Y/N complimented and walked next to the bed.

"Worth it, though. I know my Coup de Grace is your favorite move. I see the way your eyes shine when I perform it," he smirked. Y/N couldn't stop the brief chuckle. God, this man is so full of himself, she thought.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Pretty lucky. Any minute longer, and doc thought I would have lost my foot," he answered.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "All right. Well, I hope you feel better. If you need anything, anything at all. Don't be afraid to ask someone else,"

Finn laughed. "How about your number? You like my moves in the ring, you should see how I am out of it,"

Y/N thought about it momentarily. "Okay, six,"

"Wait, seriously? Hold on," he pleaded and reached for his phone in his pocket. His fingers worked quickly on the touch screen. "Okay, ready,"

"Six," she repeated yet didn't say anymore numbers. They stared at each into realization dawned on him.

"Come on, I got injured trying to impress you. That should get me all ten numbers," he complained. Finn placed his phone on his lap.

"I couldn't be bothered by giving you the rest. Besides, you don't know if that's even the first number," she winked and walked out of medical.

[dicethrow]

@relentlessgrief liked for a starter

"Fucking hell," Finn blurted, stumbling back a step. Having spent most of his life at sea, he'd thought he'd seen it all, but witnessing Connor’s nearly silent approach, he was ready to eat those words. The warlock moved like a shadow, and Finn had to resist the urge to throw a punch in surprise.

A hand instinctively went to his chest, as if by some miracle he could calm the hammering of his heart with just a touch of his palm. "You know," he said, his voice still a little breathless, "it's really fucking hard to read your face. Like, are you even smiling? Frowning? I can't tell, mate. Maybe we should draw some eyebrows on you just so we can get a feel for your emotions."

Connor had to be smiling—right?

[dicethrow]

Finn was silent for most of the story, a rare softness gracing his usually gruff, hardened features. His brown eyes, typically filled with fire and contempt for the world around him, were now warm, absorbing each word with an unexpected tenderness. He lay on his side, head propped up by one elbow, listening intently. Every now and then, he couldn’t resist slipping in a small quip, teasing Osian about one of the lovers in the tale. It was too easy to poke fun at the elf—Finn found that Osian’s reaction always made the teasing worth it.

But as the story neared its end, Finn showed uncharacteristic restraint, holding back his jabs. Instead, he let Osian’s voice wash over him, watching the wizard speak, clinging to each word as if it were an anchor in the vast, chaotic sea of his own thoughts.

Seedlings from the surrounding brush clung to his hair and beard, small reminders of their peaceful spot by the river. Finn plucked a few away absentmindedly, though many still remained tangled in the wild strands. He glanced over at Osian, noticing a few had nestled into the elf’s ginger locks. Without a word, Finn reached over, gently removing them from Osian’s hair.

"Ye made a mess, y’know," he muttered, his voice softer than usual. He plucked a small clump of seedlings and playfully dropped them onto Osian’s face, aiming for his nose. He watched as the tiny seeds fluttered, their path off course, landing instead on the elf’s cheek before sliding off his smooth skin, carried away by the gentle breeze near the river.

Finn couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. But it wasn’t the usual smirk of mischief or triumph. This was different—quieter, more genuine. And then, a warmth spread through his chest, a warmth he couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t from the fire, nor any lingering magic. The sun had long set, leaving only the cool of the evening. Yet something in him felt lit from within, a tug that tightened his lungs and made his heart beat just a little faster.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he didn’t hate it. In fact, in a strange way, it was… pleasant.

Osian had asked him what he thought of the story—a tale of love and longing, of two souls trying to overcome the obstacles keeping them apart. Finn, as always, defaulted to blunt honesty, even if he wasn’t sure of his own feelings.

"What do I think about the story?" He repeated the question as if testing the words on his tongue. "It’s a story. Made-up. Love ain’t nothing like that, if you ask me."

The truth was, Finn didn’t really know what love was like at all. He’d been raised on a ship of rough men with harder lives, where tenderness was seen as weakness and love was a concept he only ever heard spoken about with mockery or contempt. His father had always sneered at it, like love was a dangerous thing, something Finn was better off avoiding. So he had. For years.

"But," Finn added after a beat, his gaze drifting back to the river, "if they wanted to be together, I’d say fuck their obligations. Fuck all them hurdles. Get with who you want, and to hell with the rest of it."

As Osian lay amongst the reeds and tall grass, he gave out a sigh. A small, nagging voice was telling him to keep his mouth shut - to stop embarrassing both him and Finn. But for the first time, it was so easy to ignore the voice. This was the most relaxed he had felt in...Gods, years at this point. That bone gnawing feeling of never being enough was...gone. Temporarily locked away. Pawing at his mind that it will return eventually. So why not enjoy it while the doubt was quiet...

The elf lifted a hand above his face, confirming that - yes - his vision was quite impaired. His hand seemingly floating closer and then further away despite knowing for certain he hadn't moved his arm. Being aware meant that come down was surely around the corner - if he was recalling correctly. It had only been a small bite after all.

He felt Finn shifting beside him, feeling the grass protest and push against him as Finn took his position. Osian felt the book prodding him and he brought his hand down to feel for it. For some reason, his sisters voice came to mind as he lifted the tattered book up to his sight. 'There is more magic in the world than between your pages'. Hmm... There was one thing wizards enjoyed more than books.

Showing off.

"Ah, The Lovers of Narfell." Osian ran his fingers over the cover. "A sad story... I'll set the scene, shall I?" Osian, rather keenly, placed the book on his chest momentarily - he shifted his hands in a practised motion, keeping the spell contained in his right hand as his left reached for the nearest reed. "Calise loves this..." He muttered rather sadly - accidentally. Not even noting he had said it aloud. He crushed the cat-tail reed in his hand, it spilled quickly into hundreds of seedlings. Holding a fist full of them, he released his mild Thunderwave spell - sending the soft puffs skyward, falling gently back down like-

"Now it's snowing." Osian looked up at his work with an almost child-like amusement before opening the book. "Hmm... my vision is going to let me down I think... Doesn't matter, I know this tale like the freckles on the back of my hand." He placed the book back down on his chest as he started the story - one about two lovers at the dawn of the end of the Narfell empire. How a war from neighbouring land threatened to rip them apart - and did for many years before they reunited. How the tale ended with the lovers being so desperate never to part again, they made pacts with an unsavoury individual who allowed them to live with each other forever more, but took their memories as penance. To watch these former lovers live in fear of the stranger in their bed...

"Sad really... All they wanted was to be together and everything worked against them and got in the way..." Osian mused, blowing gently at a reed tuft that rested on his nose. "Some say they should have relied on their own love rather than putting it in the hands of someone else... That the moral is to keep to yourselves. What do you think?"

[child0feden]

FIRE MELTS ICE

kimi raikkonen x cky / jackass member! reader

♡ general dating headcanons for kimi with a member of cky and jackass!

୨୧ decided to make this just the dating era, i might do a part two following along the smau more with them getting married and having their kids if you guys want it! this takes place between 2001 and 2007 <3

♡ related smau available here | view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: rio bravo by cky - come to daddy by aphex twin - right here in my arms by him

♡ you guys met in 2001 when you were both 21!

୨୧ you had been a member of cky / jackass from the very beginning, having grown up with with bam and ryan <3 you got the nickname “ fireass ” because of all the times you’ve had your ass set on fire ( usually by bam )

♡ you’re like three peas in a pod, only ever seeing each other as siblings

୨୧ supposedly, some of the people from mtv had made a deal with some guys in f1 about being able to shoot some stunts with the cars but when you and the guys arrived it seems there had been some kind of HUGE misunderstanding…

♡ while mtv people were arguing with f1 people ( you really didn’t care enough to get their names ) you wandered off to have a look around, not wanting to just stand around watching some people argue

୨୧ you run into kimi somewhere in the paddock, locking eyes with him would usually make anyone else look away almost immediately but you held his icy gaze with your own fiery stare

♡ you don’t believe in all that “ love at first sight ” talk but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like something clicked into place on your heart when you saw him

୨୧ and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get the exact same feeling…

♡ so you approached each other, him asking what you were up to here and you asking if he listens to aphex twin or bloodhound gang

୨୧ before long bam finds you and decides to do what he does best… which is torment you with a taser and handheld camera!

♡ to say kimi was confused as to what the hell was happening would be an understatement…

“ what the hell are you doing? why did you do that do her? are you insane? ” ( he had no idea who the hell you guys were and literally thought bam was just some insane guy assaulting you, all the while bam was laughing his ass off at you clutching your tased ass cheek )

୨୧ but you left with his number and he left with yours so hey, you’d say it was worth it

♡ you guys begin dating super quickly, you’re both confident and outgoing people who aren’t afraid to speak their mind and there’s clearly a connection between you two so why waste time?

୨୧ so you don’t waste time and begin officially dating after just one date :)

♡ there were DEFINITELY some rumours going around in the mid 2000’s that you were actually dating ville or you were cheating on kimi with ville

୨୧ some people going even further and saying you were actually in a throuple with ville and kimi

♡ the gossip magazine titles got real creative with the headlines when those rumours started… so many corny lines about how they’re both finnish so that must mean you have a type and a bunch of other stupid shit

୨୧ you ran with the joke for a short time, your nickname changing from “ fireass ” to “ finnisher ” y’know, because you supposedly make two finns finish? god, it was so stupid

♡ you were never dating ville, obviously, you were more like siblings with both him and bam and you were happier than ever with kimi! the only members you ever did anything with was dico, rake and chris ( not pontious ) and those were simple pecks for the camera!

୨୧ and kimi knows not to worry, he’d never been the jealous or insecure type, he has no problem speaking his mind if he feels something isn’t right

♡ kimi absolutely loves to watch you skate in the parking lot of your apartment complex!

୨୧ he thinks you’re so damn good and should’ve gone pro… whenever you fuck up and get a really bad scrape, he’s always gently asking if you’re good before coming over to help you up and make sure you don’t snap your skateboard in half, knowing you’d regret it later…

♡ you’re forever thankful that you fell in love with someone as unbothered as kimi

୨୧ you usually come home from a day of filming smelling like a disgusting combination of vomit, alcohol, gasoline and cigarettes…

♡ you always apologise to kimi for the smell ( despite knowing he really doesn’t care all that much ) before heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth and take a hot shower

୨୧ but he’s hot on your tail, following you into the bathroom and watching you undress from the doorway… when you hop into the shower, he moves from his spot in the doorway, getting undressed and getting in with you

♡ he doesn’t talk much, it’s mainly you asking about what he was up to while you were gone and him answering! only sometimes asking you similar questions about the stunts you did

୨୧ he washes your hair for you, his hands surprisingly gentle, mindful of any tangles

“ tilt your head back more, kulta… that’s it ” ( he acts like getting some water in your eyes would hurt you more than any of the stunts you’ve done before )

♡ small things like this were common between you, a show of love and care <3

୨୧ when bam made haggard, he obviously wanted you to have a character in it and so you did! but it wasn’t just you, oh no…

♡ why would bam miss the opportunity to get an f1 driver in his film? he’d be a fool to not beg you to ask kimi for an appearance in the film as your character’s boyfriend

୨୧ kimi agreed but ONLY for you <3 his appearance was much shorter than yours but bam was happy with it and it would go down in the books as a nice piece of semi obscure f1 lore

♡ people know whenever kimi has brought to with him to a race because the only thing they hear coming from his drivers room is him, bloodhound gang, cky and gnarkill…

୨୧ you actually convert kimi into being a huge fan of these bands, he already liked that type of music anyways but he didn’t listen to those bands before he got with you! you make him so many burned CDs

♡ whenever kimi is with you while you’re filming for jackass and perform a particularly nasty stunt, the cameraman LOVES to pan over to kimi, capturing his face which wears a slight frown and a scrunched nose <3

୨୧ when ryan did the toy car up the ass stunt, he made sure it was an f1 car, just to add some irony to the situation as you were the one giving him advice on how to get it up there ( kimi was NOT impressed with the joke )

♡ something that happens on the regular is f1 journalists calling in on radio bam, hoping to get the latest scoop on the cars and drivers from you… as if you know anything about the cars?

୨୧ of course, you entertain them for a minute or two, feeding them fake stories about how all of the drivers actually despise each other and they’re feuding… you know they won’t mind!

♡ but when you get bored, you quickly dive into a deeply detailed description of yours and kimi’s sex life, giving them only the dirtiest details

୨୧ they always hang up, it’s a guarantee <3 usually kimi is listening in at home or even sitting in the studio with you, just gazing at you with a tiny, sly smirk on his face

♡ you and kimi are both very laidback souls!

୨୧ most of your free days are spent in your shared apartment, laid on the couch together, your legs over his lap whilst you watch a horror movie

♡ oh how you love your iceman…

[thebestbreadbowl]

The thing I like most about Adventure Time is the pacing, it's a lot slower than shows today, and really fleshes out every tiny character and detail.

There was so much room for Adventure Time to keep going, but it got cut short by Cartoon Network.

If we went on for a few more seasons we could've gotten good endings for a lot of the character arcs instead of bitter lessons.

Betty could've found a safe way to bring Simon and Margles back (and AGGG I wish we got more of King Man and his wifeeee). Simon would actually see (Alive!) Betty and they could TALK and FIX the problems with their relationship.

If Simon wasn't brought back on the final episode, we would've had normal AT episodes with him and Marcaline actually TALKING about their lives (Who wouldn't want an 'I Remember You' 2, Electric Boogaloo?)

Fern could've ended his curse without dying, or at least learn to accept himself. Fern and Jermaine brotherhood was RIGHT THERE for the taking, they're both overshadowed by their more popular counterpart and they're basically siblings by relation

Marcaline and Princess Bubblegum would have some more time to become an official relationship, instead of the sudden kiss after PB gets slammed into the ground.

Anything. With. The. Ice Thing. What the hell is it? What happened to Gunter and Oorgalorg for that matter? Why did it *fuse* with the crown? And is there anything more on his relationship with Turtle Princess? (How the hell did he even get her to marry him?)

There's so much more I could add to this list; Uncle Gumbald and PB, Finn and Minerva, Hudson Abadeer and Simon, that stretch of time where Simon was serving the Empress, Huntress Wizard and Finn

This isn't even MENTIONING smaller characters like Neptr, Lemongrab, LSP ect

I know more than half the stuff I said was covered in Obsidian or Fionna and Cake, but those pieces happen AFTER the important stuff, they're less story pieces and more 'loose end ties', and almost every episode is split with an entirely new main character, and/or setting

Luckily, most of the fandom creates art and stories to fill these gaps that AT left, and I'm very happy for it, but I wish that AT could've ran on for a few more seasons to really lock in ideas

[topazy]

Silent bloom

Pairing: Bellamy Blake × reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence

Chapter: 3.02

“It’s been three hours,” Bellamy says, breaking the tense silence. “What are they waiting for?”

Frustrated, Monty taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “We should make a run for it.”

“No,” you mutter. “Soon as we step outside this, they’ll attack.” Ice Nation had you pinned down; you had been stuck in the same spot for hours. It worried you more that they hadn’t attacked yet and were just toying with you.

“They can also wait longer than us,” Indra points out.

“Fine, but we are lambs to the slaughter if we just walk out. We need to come up with a plan.”

“Okay, Bellamy,” Kane says. “You get in the turret, and you cover us. Once we get to that ridge over there, we’ll cover you.”

“Copy that; run fast.” Hesitantly, Bellamy does what he’s told. His hand lightly brushes over your back before opening the hatch. Slowly, he lifts his head out, but before he can bring his gun up, he freezes. “They’re here.”

“Everybody out, or the boy dies!”

Bellamy is suddenly yanked out of the river through the hatch. “We’re coming.” You lean over and forcefully shove at the door handle to open it. “Just don’t hurt him.”

“Wait-” Kane tries to stop you, but it’s too late. As soon as you unlock it, someone grabs you by the arm and tosses you to the ground.

You let out a loud grunt, feeling someone’s knee pressing into your back and keeping you in place. Shit, this was your fault for being so desperate to try and save him. Lifting your head, you meet Bellamy’s eyes. He shakes his head, urging you to stop struggling. Kane and Indra are thrown down beside you and are pinned down in the same way you are.

“All targets are secure!”

You found it strange to hear the grounders talking in English and not their own language. The grounders are wearing masks, so it’s hard to determine if they are definitely an ice nation or from another clan. It’s hard to pick up what is being said, but you don’t hear a single word being said in Trigedasleng. “It’s not grounders,” you mutter. “It’s not grounders.”

You fight the urge to scream when you hear Finn’s voice telling you to speak up. You’re snapped out of your train of thought when you hear Monty struggling as he’s yanked to his feet. “Give it back; it’s mine!”

“Monty, let it go!”

One of the grounders steps forward; their voice shakes as they say, “Monty?”

He stares across at the ground, his face twisting slightly as if he’s seen a ghost. “Mom?”

She pulls off her mask and runs to him, sobbing. She pulls him into a hug. “My boy, my boy, I thought I’d lost you.”

“Farm station, stand down.”

The person pinning you down lifts their knee off your back, and within seconds, Bellamy is beside you, helping you to your feet. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, are you?”

“Yeah…” leaning in close enough so only you can hear him say, “You had that look in your eyes again.”

“I’m fine.” You look across at the man who’s talking to Kane and ask, “Who’s that? He looks familiar.”

“Charles Pike was an earth skills teacher on the Ark.”

You wipe the loose dirt off your jeans with your hands as you walk over to them, beside Bellamy. A small smile is playing on your lips as you watch Monty reunite with his mom; the both of them look so happy to have found each other again. Kane looks around, trying to count how many survivors there are. “How many of you are there?”

“Sixty-three. The rest are camped in the mountains north of here. Grounder killers one and all, am I right?”

“Ohh rah!”

When everyone from the farm station cheers, you lock eyes with Indra. You chew on your lower lip for a moment before saying, “We still need to find Clarke.”

With his interest piqued, Pike turns to you and asks, “Clarke Griffin?”

Pike then turns back to face Bellamy, saying, “If only all my earth skills students were as good as her.”

Bellamy grins and shakes his hand. “It’s good to see you, sir.”

There wasn’t something about Pike you immediately didn’t trust. You go and stand beside Indra as Kane tells the others to go move the tree. Quietly, you say, “I haven’t spent much time with your people, but I know you’ve faced worse things than we ever have and probably have a lot of knowledge that we don’t.”

“What is it you want to know?”

“Can you tell if someone is dangerous to us?”

She gives you a knowing look, but instead of answering you, she cuts in on Pike, telling Kane how many people have been killed since arriving on earth. “The ice nation can be ruthless. Take pride in the numbers you saved.”

"Indra, this is Charles Pike. He was a teacher on the ark,” Kane says, patting Pike’s shoulder. “This is Indra. She’s the leader of Trikru and a trusted ally.”

Pike gives her a death stare and says, “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“Indra is one of us,” you snap defensively. “She’s our person.”

—

The ride to the trading post is almost as tense as it was when you thought the Ice Nation wanted to attack. Soon as Monty pulls up to the building, Kane and Bellamy jump out. You wait a beat before doing the same.

Kane raises his hand, silently telling everyone to stop walking. You can hear what sounds like fighting coming from inside the trading post. Bellamy runs inside and pulls the trigger. Coming in behind him, you clap your eyes at women with long braided hair covered in blood.

You lower your gun and approach her cautiously. “Are you okay? We mean you no harm.”

The grounder was looking startled, biting at the inside of her cheeks. Not wanting to scare her further, you back off.

Indra looks down at the body of the man Bellamy just killed and says, “He’s a bounty hunter.”

“He would have been looking for Clarke.”

When Indra speaks to the women in Trig, Pike barks, “English!”

Kane looks slightly taken aback but quickly says, “Pike, go outside. Take Monty and Hannah with you; search the perimeter; and make sure he is alone.”

You watch the three of them leave, and you can't shake off the uneasy feeling that has settled deep within your bones. There was just something off about Pike, his hatefulness towards Indra. It wasn’t right. Just as you go, turn your head back around and spot a shadow in the doorway.

Finn.

Deep down, you knew he wasn’t really there; he was dead. But you stare at the doorway in a trance, waiting for him to walk in, until Bellamy shakes your shoulder and says, “Are you ready?”

“Uh yeah,” you didn’t want to admit you had completely zoned out.

He looks at you concerned but doesn’t say anything about it. “We might know where Clarke is.”

Turning back to face the grounder, you give her a genuine smile and say, “Thank you.”

“Niylah.”

“Thank you, Niylah.”

—

You follow the tracks. Monty is spotted through the forest and out into an open field. You walk beside Indra silently as she leads the way. Multiple thoughts were racing through your mind at once, and you just wished you could close the noise in your brain off.

Indra stops walking and holds up her hand. “Quiet. Listen.”

The beating sounds in the distance make you feel sick; it takes you back to the night Finn handed himself over to Lexa. Quietly, you ask, “War drums?”

“Azgeda.”

Using the scope on your gun, you try to locate the exact location where the sound is coming from.

“You can tell it’s Ice Nation from the sound.” Monty asks.

“No,” she says, pointing to three dead bodies on the ground. “From them.”

Pike and Bellamy cover the others while they move their bodies, so the grounders don’t think you’ve killed anyone. You spot movement in the distance. “Holy shit, it’s Clarke.”

Her blonde hair has red streaks in it; she’s covered in dirt, but it was unmistakably hers. Feeling vibrations, you move the scope over to the right and spot an army marching directly into the path of Clarke and whoever had her bound and gagged.

Bellamy goes to run to her. Pike stops him, saying, “You’ll never make it in time.”

You crouch down and say, “We need to wait for the army to pass before getting Clarke. If they see us, we’re all dead.”

Monty points out caves nearby, which would be the best place for you to wait for the army to pass. You notice Indra lingering behind the rest of the group. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I can’t go with you.”

“Why not?”

She looks at you and Kane. “The nation has crossed the border; they’re marching against my commander. I have to warn her.”

Kane nods understandingly and says, “We’ll find Clarke.”

“You better. The ice queen gets her first; she’ll be dead, and we’ll be at war.”

—

Inside the cave, you sit closest to the entrance, keeping an eye out for any enemies approaching, while the others sit further in the darkness, trying to get some sleep. You felt conflicted; you wanted to save Clarke and were willing to save your life to do that, but she also abandoned her people. Once she was saved, would Clarke even want to go back? You didn’t want to break Abby’s heart when you returned without her daughter.

Bellamy sits down beside you, and he squeezes your thigh lightly. It gives you comfort to feel his touch; he was the only person who made you feel safe. “What are you thinking about?”

“Indra. I wonder if she made it to her commander.”

“Hey,” he softly tilts your chin up and pecks your lips. “She’s strong, she’ll make it.”

Sighing, you rest your head on his shoulder. You listen intently as Hannah and Pike explain how Monty’s father died trying to save children who were being killed off by grounders.

“That was an ice nation,” Kane says. “Not all grounders are the same.”

“They are to me,” the words roll off Pikes tongue like poison.

You grip Bellamy's hand, holding onto him tightly. Not knowing what to say, you resume staring outside the cave, watching the army march by. Your eyes slowly flicker down to the three dead bodies laying not far from you, and a dangerous idea pops into your head.

“Bell?” You whisper.

“Yeah.”

“How much do you trust me?”

—

As you step onto the open field, the familiar sense of dread washes over you as you try your best to blend in with the army. You were surprised that Bellamy agreed with your idea of taking the clothes and masks of the dead men to blend in with the Azgeda army. It was probably one of the riskiest decisions you had made in a long time. Bellamy didn’t directly answer your question, but his actions led you to believe he did completely trust you.

In a low voice, he says, “If I get caught, you keep going, no matter what.”

“Ditto.”

You breathe in sharply before separating from his side to join the army. None of them glanced an eye in your direction as you slowly made your way to the opposite side of the army and into the woods. You’ve become so used to Bellamy observing you that you know it’s him walking a short distance behind you.

You finally stop when you reach a tree with blood on it and pull your mask off. “They can’t be far.”

“Over there,” Bellamy points to a bunker. “I’ll go in first; cover me.”

You check that nobody else is watching as he goes down the stairs, and once you’re sure the area is clear, you do the same. He waits for you at the bottom, saying, “We’ll check each side.”

Nodding, you start to walk in the opposite direction, but you only take a few steps before feeling cold metal pressing against your throat and a hand covering your mouth. The blade nips at your neck as Grounder forces you to walk towards Bellamy as he takes the gag out of Clarke’s mouth. Her hands are tied behind her back around a pole, preventing her from leaving.

“Untie Wanheda, and I’ll slit her throat.”

Bellamy attempts to fight the grounder, but is quickly knocked to the ground. His eyes are filled with fear as he begs, “Please, don't hurt her! Just let her go!”

“No,no!” Clarke protests. “I'll stop fighting and go with you. Please! Just don't kill them.”

You tilt your head back and bite down hard on the grounder's finger, causing him to yell loudly in pain. The last thing you remember is a sudden pain in the side of your head and hearing Clarke scream before everything goes black.