#it’s worth the work of letting less accurate words go no matter how much they helped me in the past

[avpdpossum]

realizing you were wrong is a vital part of the self diagnosis process — you probably won’t get it all right on the first try and that’s okay, reflecting on your experiences and realizing you were looking at things from a flawed perspective isn’t bad. it can be hard to accept if you’ve already adapted your understanding of yourself to include the old label, but the adjustment period is worth it once you get the chance to really appreciate having a fuller, clearer understanding of yourself.

…am i saying all of this because i’m currently trying to convince myself of it as i realize i was probably wrong about some things? yes. yes i am. if you’re in a period of adjustment too, you’re not the only one. we’re in it together.

[anlian-aishang]

Levi with an (Episodically) Depressed S/O

Tags: levi x reader, angst, hurt-comfort, gn!reader Word count: 900

Levi invites you to shower with him, making the obstacle less daunting and much more attractive. In his black robe, leaning on your bedroom door, two towels slung over his arm indicate the knowledge that you will say yes and accompany him. The way that he looks, the low plea in his voice, how could you say no? 

It would be more accurate to say that he was bathing you, but he does not phrase it that way. Instead, he is humble, letting his actions speak louder than words. He does not tell you that he will shampoo your matted hair, does not flaunt how deliberately he exfoliates your limbs, he just does them for you. Some days, even just tipping the bottle or pumping some soap into your hand can seem mountainous. On those days, he sees those activities not as tasks, but as privileges. It is his honor to be the one looking after you in your most dire time. He would always prefer someone to take care of rather than someone to miss. 

Showering together not only ensures that you stay clean, but his company prevents you from those timeless sessions sat on the tile floor. At the moment you look refreshed but before you become sleepy, he jerks the handle to the left and halts the devastatingly relaxing rain. 

Always, your clean clothes are already folded atop the bathroom counter, waiting for you. Some times, you fail to remember that you did not put them there. Other times, you notice the sign of his relentless consideration, but are artificially silenced from expressing your gratitude. No matter in his mind. You are clean, clothed, and out of bed, and that’s already better than you were before. 

Without one complaint, Levi scoops your dampened towel and old clothes from the wet bathroom floor and drops them in the hamper for you. He has seen the piles that can amass, and if it were anyone else in any other circumstance, the clean freak would be quick to chastise, but any sight or thought of you disintegrates any instinct to discipline. You are sat in the living room, admiring the ivy that swirls around the balcony’s posts, thumbing the petals of the bouquet vased on the coffee table. White-gold rays move just a tad west to cast your figure in therapeutic light. You’re too tired to move away from the sun, and for once, Levi finds your fatigue favorable. As the morning temperature rises, he can see that your resting smile does as well. 

While you are entranced with the scenes of summer, Levi swiftly searches for and alleviates the areas you have left neglected. He dumps your sock drawer upside down and mends the pairs that you have discarded as singles. In your closet, he finds the clean pile and dirty pile and either folds it or washes it accordingly. Under your bed, on your nightstand, in your bedside drawer, he discovers the dirty dishes that have been missing the sink and returns them to their proper place. 

Between those tasks, he rolls his shoulders back or rubs the side of his neck and allows himself to sigh. It is difficult - not to bandage these tiny wounds - but to see the harsh bruises left by the illness. Sure, you were forgetful, and not quite as tidy as he was, but still - the mounds of laundry, hidden dirty dishes - this wasn’t like you. Levi lives for your joy - not the superficial smile, your peace - not the misleading silence. He lives for you - in sickness and in health. The times you forget your worth, that is when he whispers it in your ear. When the world is overwhelming you, he lets his touch communicate it. 

Once your space is in order, he can start to work on getting you to leave it. Rather than annoying reminders or obligations, he mindfully manipulates the steps of treatment into desirable invitations. Rather than Do you want to… or Would you like to…, his proposals are statements, taking the responsibility out of your hands. Concerts in the park this afternoon. Let’s go to the farmers market. Apple orchard just opened.

Or even less far away. 

Plants look thirsty, water them with me? Rain just cleared, read on the porch with me? Full moon tonight, stargaze with me?

To you, with me frames the activities, frames your presence as favors for him, and even in your lowest state, you are always keen to help him with anything. To Levi, it is no framing, your relationship is the greatest gift that fate has bestowed on him, and he treats you as such. It is in his selfless actions and his careful words, but it is more than that, traits you can’t quite categorize. The near flat, subtle smile you wake up to in the morning. The tight yet painless combs through your hair that leave you feeling divine. The low, calming timbre of his voice, decorated with a tender tone that he reserves for you. 

Even before the haze you’re in now, you’ve never been able to label those qualities of his, and instead settled: it’s just who he is. 

Like the sentiment that motivates his care: it’s what you deserve. 

// masterlist //

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 山河令/Word of Honor.

Word of Honor is a 2021 adaptation of a novel by priest that tells the story of two beautiful murderers, their three kids, and their collective attempts to ignore the fetchquest madness that has taken over the rest of the jianghu.

Look, you know what Word of Honor is. Doing a rec for this is like doing my rec for Nirvana in Fire -- I am not introducing you to a new concept. Even if you haven't watched it, you've probably osmosed enough through the rest of Tumblr to have an opinion on it. At this point, if you haven't seen Word of Honor, I'm assuming it's for one of two reasons: either you haven't gotten around to it yet, or you haven't been sufficiently moved by what you've seen fandom do with it.

So I'm going to give you five reasons to watch the show, and they're probably not going to be the reasons you've seen already. Not to say that the other reasons are bad, but you've heard them already, right? What I've got for you are five somewhat more unexpected reasons that may just convince the fence-sitters that this nut-flavored morass of toxic relationships is worth your time.

1. No matter how gay you think it is, it's gayer

Okay, sure, you've probably been given the impression that this show is real gay. But I don't know if you know how gay it is. This show is so gay that we still haven't seen many of the other BL-flavored shows filmed around the same time period or since, because Chinese censorship gay-panicked and locked them all away before they could air, because Word of Honor was just too gay.

Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing (L-R above) are in love. The story does not make sense if they're not. There is no story if they're not. Everything else in the show is set dressing to this incredible adventure story of two horrible people who fall for one another.

Oh yeah, did I mention that they're both bad guys? One's a fascist toddler-murderer and the other's a cannibal mob boss. These two deserve one another, in every possible sense of that phrase. In any other property, they'd be the villains -- and even here, they're still kind of the villains! It's just that the heroes are worse.

What's more, their two actors absolutely understood the assignment. They got the memo. They read the book. No one ever had to sit them down midway through shooting and explain their dynamic. They had it from the table read. When given creative freedom, they chose to double down and make the gay shit even gayer.

But the actors weren't the only ones who knew what they were doing! Everybody working on the production was pretty much in full-on Let's Make A BL mode. There are no gay accidents here. It's so gay that it's actually gayer than the version that aired. If you can do a little lip-reading (though beware of spoilers in those links), you can get at the original filmed version, which had a number of lines that were too homo and/or sexual for Chinese television.

No, they don't kiss. They don't have to. This is the TV version of the tweet about, what's gayer, gay sex or whatever these two have going on? The answer is, whatever these two have going on.

It's so gay that they're not the only gays. No, I'm not going to tell you who the other gays are, in part because spoilers. But trust me, they're there. Lesbians too! And a bisexual elderly polycule! And one pair of hets that we love love love, and most other heterosexuals are creepy and gross. And if that's not an accurate representation of how the world looks to queer people, I don't know what to tell you.

2. Go nuts!

You are not prepared for the product placement.

Word of Honor started off having a budget, so they went ahead and started spending that budget in the way you do when you're making a TV show. Unfortunately, circumstances changed, and their budget became much less, which meant they couldn't keep making that TV show unless they got more dollars. But where to get a sponsor for a fairly low-profile wuxia BL property?

Enter our hero: Wolong Nuts.

I have seen actors do bumper ads in costume for products from their various sponsors, and I have seen actors do bumper ads in character for the same. But the feeling of seeing a modern product diegetically hawked mid-scene by ancient fantasy characters is like none other.

Something like 40% of Word of Honor's total budget came from this nut sponsorship. And here the thing: It worked! It sold nuts! Hell, I’d buy them if they were sold anywhere near me; I like nuts in general, and nuts that support the queers in particular.

I'm including this as a selling point because, come on, it's funny as hell. But it's also a good place to warn you that Word of Honor has what we're politely going to call a spotty use of its funds. Some things, like everyone's outfits and the score, are lavish and beautiful. Other things, like some of the sets and a lot of the CG, are janky and sad. Crowd scenes are thirty humans and a bunch of Blender assets. I've never seen so many fake plastic trees together in one place before. There's a lot of visible hairnets. Like, a lot.

The show was originally planned as being 45 episodes long. It wound up being 36 + a tiny epilogue. That's a huge cut! I’ll say to its credit that you mostly can’t feel the seams; the production team did a heroic job killing their darlings (in many senses) while keeping the narrative coherent. If you know about the original vision, though, you can identify pretty quickly where the excised material should have been. Don’t be surprised when the last two episodes in particular smack you like a hit-and-run.

They blew a truly unwise amount of the budget on costumes in general, and Wen Kexing's costumes in particular, and thank goodness. (@canary3d-obsessed has done a noble job of cataloging everyone's wardrobes, and some of the details are just stunning.) See that red outfit he's wearing there, with the elaborate, delicate embroidery? That apparently took two people literal months to hand-sew. It's a terrible use of limited funds, and I am living for it. Even when Wen Kexing looks awful, he looks stunning -- especially when you put him side by side with Zhou Zishu, who is wearing the jianghu equivalent of slutty yoga pants and a thrift-store dollar-bin t-shirt that says IT'S WINE O'CLOCK SOMEWHERE.

So if, while you’re watching, you’re ever disappointed by the quality of the production in front of you, just console yourself by thinking: That’s nut money, baby.

3. The ghosts (and everyone else) doing the mosts

This is a show that somehow managed to accumulate a tremendous supporting cast of actual grown-ass adults, then had the wisdom to make them play a wide variety of balls-to-the-wall bonkers roles.

You can't throw a rock in a crowd scene without hitting a dozen actors with resumes as long as their arms, who have been acting since before you were born. Apparently they poached a couple veteran film and stage actors from other contemporaneous productions and had them come over to film bit parts on their days off. If you see a character played by an older actor who's getting more lines and face time than you think their character strictly deserves relative to their importance to the plot, and you're like, hm, I wonder if this older actor has a career that includes roles in several dozen other shows and/or stage productions, the answer is yes.

I've seen the tone of the show described as melodramatic, but I don't think that's quite it -- it's more operatic. People speak to the middle distance and play to the back row. Several actors have the body language and line delivery that makes it seem like they're always about three words away from breaking into song. Several of my favorites are downright camp. It's magnificent.

Statistically, everyone in this show is a bad guy. There are the respectable people who don't mean to be bad guys, but wind up being bad guys anyway because they support bullshit systems. There are the morally grey folk who are willing to become bad guys because they think they'll be the good guys when all is said and done. And there are the bad guys who know they're bad guys and are going to chew every piece of scenery in the vicinity about it, so watch out.

My favorite collection of scene-stealing weirdos is probably the clutch of freaks that make up the ghosts of Ghost Valley. They're not actual ghosts -- this is not a supernatural show. They are instead living people who call themselves ghosts because they've found themselves on the margins of society for one reason or another, and have created their own little society! With hookers! And blackjack! And also a little murder, as a treat!

These ghosts are so extra that they actually have a Top Ten List, where all the ones that have code names and specific costumes hang out. How do you get on the Top Ten List? By killing one or more of the people already on it, of course! I told you these guys are villains! They're not even the only villains! They're not even the only villain organization! It's wall-to-wall bad guys around here! And oh my goodness, the actors are clearly having a ball with it.

When the screenwriter came to adapt Faraway Wanderers (the novel) into Word of Honor, she realized that there weren't a whole lot of ladies in the book -- so she invented/adapted some for the show and made most of them sinister! (In fact, if you watch Legend of Fei -- and you should watch Legend of Fei -- you can see a lot of the inspiration for said ladies.) Some of the female characters in the show were men in the book, while others weren't even in the book at all. They all feel organic, though, and not like someone was trying to get Strong Female Character Points. It's the good representation you get when there's a lot of representation, so nobody has to be The Girl, and all the girls can just be people.

...Alas that another casualty of the budget cuts is that several of the lady characters did not get to live up to their full ass-kicking potential. But that potential is still there! The badassery may be implicit instead of explicit, but you don't doubt that many of these women would eat your heart at the slightest provocation, and you would thank them while they were doing it.

This show is perfect food if you're the kind of viewer liable to get sucked up into the worlds of villains, NPCs, bit parts, optional side characters, and other narratives going on outside the main storyline. Because there's a lot going on outside the main storyline. I mean, that's kind of the running joke of the whole novel, that there's this whole complicated political plot happening, and yet our dudes are over here studiously trying to not know what the hell is going on. Obviously that's harder to preserve in a show, but it's still a key feature of the narrative. Most of the Big Power Play What-Not is always happening a few towns over from where the main party is at any given moment. I know people who've watched the drama several times and still can't explain whatever's happening with all that. That's fine. You roll with it for the sake of everything else.

So! Do you like gazing upon delightful character actors and having imagination adventures about the unexplored workings of a bunch of tantalizingly mysterious and often very sexy weirdos? Great! This will keep you busy for a good long while.

4. The juciest pining in the jianghu

I said I wasn't going to tell you about all the gay shit going on here, and I'm not. What I do want to cover, however, is how much gay shit isn't going on here -- and by that I mean just how much of the show's gay longing is unrequited. If you like it when the boy yearns for the other boy, friend, you will feast well tonight.

You have likely already, through fandom, been alerted to the existence of the biggest gremlin in the land and an understandable number of people's favorite character, immortal grandpa Ye Baiyi. What may not have been conveyed, however, is just how tragically gay this bitch is. The ultra-condensed, scrubbed-for-spoilers version of his backstory is that he was in love with a guy who got injured because of him, so he decided to stay and live on a mountain with that guy and the guy's wife and coparent their son with them, all the while never once telling the guy how he felt.

This is not me with slash goggles on. This is canon. Well, okay, the "in love with" part is only confirmed in the book, but Huang Youming, Ye Baiyi's equally gremlin-like actor, has also clearly done the reading and understands how to break your heart with it. Ugh, it's so good.

Shidifuckers, rejoice! Zhou Zishu has Han Ying, his devoted little dumpling who would -- and does -- do anything for him. Back in Zhou Zishu's regrettable (but very fashionable) fascist days, he had a bunch of little underlings; one of them was Han Ying, who still works for the same evil empire. Problem is, Han Ying isn't evil. He was never loyal to his job; he was always just loyal to Zhou Zishu. It's cute the way Wen Kexing hisses like a cat upon meeting Han Ying and immediately identifying him as a rival for Zhou Zishu's affections. If you like OTPs that occasionally roll in a service-top third, please consider that adorable muffin boy up there.

And speaking of quitting your job, have you ever had the problem where you had to orchestrate your own death to get away from your toxic boss who won't stop sexually harassing you, and that motherfucker still expects you to show up for your shift next weekend? Meet Prince Jin, who has refused to accept Zhou Zishu's resignation letter with extreme prejudice.

Zhou Zishu isn't even the only ex he's mad he drove off! But that's just a namedrop in the show; see my bonus selling point for instructions on how to get into that whole gay-ass story. [insert obligatory "Prince Jin is not Helian Yi" disclaimer here]

...Nope, uh-uh, we're not going to get into what's going on with Scorpy. Suffice it to say, this is one of those cases where the show can't outright call a thing gay (though uhhhh it sure can imply a lot of it!), but it can set up an unspoken Gay Bad Idea as a direct, textual parallel with a canon Straight Bad Idea and be like, see? see? Anyway, daddy's boy there has deliciously terrible taste. This is the one that'll have you screaming crying throwing up etc.

And then there's this handsome jackass, who isn't doing the pining, but is the unfortunately heterosexual object of the often confused and misdirected longings of his friends. About the first thing you know about Rong Xuan is that he died before the series begins, so you only see him in a few flashbacks. The precious few times you do, though, you're treated to scenes of him holding court among his besties (many of whom are the spectacularly cast younger versions of major older male characters) while they all wrestle with varying degrees of homo longing for his cocky dreamboat self. You ever wanted to fuck a straight guy so bad you got both him and his wife killed about it? Because somebody in this drama sure has!

I sense you think I'm making this all up, that I'm just a fujoshi looking at the world through rainbow-colored glasses and telling you about her favorite slash pairings. Friend, I am not. Okay, I am being a little cheeky about the last one, but I swear that everything else I have listed in this selling point is about as textual as the show could make it, if not outright straight (ha ha) from the books.

(I have a whole separate theory about how priest herself is a real-life queer, based on how basically everyone in her works is either queer-coded or a token straight who's on thin ice, but that's a subject for a completely different Tumblr post no one's ever going to read, so save us both the time and imagine I already wrote it.)

I cannot stress to you enough how much this show knew what it was doing with the queer stuff. I love how amazingly toxic so much of it is, too, because one of the big themes of the show is that secrets will destroy you and everyone you love. If you have gay longing in a society that forces you to hide that gay longing, yeah, you're going to be extra-vulnerable to making some shitty decisions because of it! You're either going to suffocate yourself by keeping silent, or you're going to open yourself to intimate partner abuse you can't reveal to anyone else, or you're going to do some murders about it! Or some combination of the three! Either way, it's not good!

Also, tell your partner about your chronic health conditions, whether they be Can't Remember My Past, Would Eat A Guy If I Had The Opportunity, Stuck Some Nails In My Chest And Am Now Dying And Also Can't Get A Boner, or Whoops Took The Nails Out Of My Chest And Still Can't Get A Boner. Oh, and tell your partner if you're about to run off and go confront your dangerous ex. And absolutely tell your partner if you're about to fake your own death. Just ... learn to have conversations with the people who love you, okay? Avoid huge amounts of narrative suffering with this one weird trick!

5. Putting his whole Zhang Zhehussy into it

See, Gong Jun (playing Wen Kexing) is not what I'd call a great actor. This is more of a case where you take a guy, you cast him as a character whose motivation can be summed up as "I want to fuck that man in half," and then you cast opposite him a man that the guy in question clearly actually wants to fuck in half. And you let the magic work.

Zhang Zhehan (playing Zhou Zishu), however, legitimately knocks it entirely out of the park. Whenever the camera's on him, it's hard to take your eyes off him. He holds his own in a sea of veteran actors. He can do comedy and tragedy with equal panache. It's lucky he's such a beautiful crier, because Zhou Zishu cries so much. I have never seen someone more perfectly portray the mood of "in love and absolutely furious about it."

As the story goes, when he auditioned, he actually wanted to play Wen Kexing -- but the director told him, look, while you'd be great at that, I can find another Wen Kexing, but I'm never going to find another Zhou Zishu.

Zhou Zishu is bad man who has done terrible things and resigned himself to suffering to atone for his crimes, and he is so mad to find himself at the end of his life suddenly having a reason to keep living. Zhang Zhehan does a pitch-perfect tsundere right up to the point where he breaks. I'm not going to call it an understated performance, because nothing in this show is understated, but it is often times subtle and always complex, and fuck does he have a good crazy grin.

One of the first things you find out about Zhou Zishu is that he's got just a couple years left to live, over which time all his senses are going to deteriorate. In fact, they've already started going. And as the show goes on, you can watch Zhang Zhehan play it so you can tell when he's missed something he should otherwise have picked up on, reacting to noises and touches a split-second late. It's a testament to what a thoughtful job Zhang Zhehan's doing, keeping track of how much of Zhou Zishu has already slipped away.

There are, if you've read the book, legitimate complaints to be made about the adaptation's interpretation of Zhou Zishu's character, and I get that. But you can't say that Zhang Zhehan isn't pulling off exactly what he means to here. I say this too as someone who loves the novel: I think it works. Given the constraints of Chinese television in particular and cinematic adaptations in general, the show made the right choices when it came to figuring out what were the more filmable, actable options, and Zhang Zhehan plays every one of those choices within an inch of his life.

Also did I mention he's like the most beautiful man to ever exist? Holy crap. You're going to be so mad about what they do to his face for the first several episodes.

Don't worry, it washes off eventually.

caveat: Kind of a bummer!

You may have been warned that this one's got a sad ending. Well ... yes and no. On the "no" side of things, there's a "secret" mini-episode 37 that rolls back one of the major points of tragedy. (It's also clearly the first version that got shot, and then they shuffled around and redubbed some material to make the aired end of episode 36.)

But oh man, not all of them. Plenty of characters we love do not make it to the end. Like ... kind of a shockingly large number. Some are dispatched offscreen, some have tragic onscreen deaths, some are probably dead given the circumstances we last see them in, and a couple aren't dead yet but are almost certainly going to be soon.

(It's also kind of a meta-bummer! I mean, I don't recommend falling down the rabbit hole of what happened with Zhang Zhehan's career after the show aired, but tl;dr, it's not great.)

So yeah, it's not an outright pain simulator, and if you've got the mettle for Nirvana in Fire or Guardian, you should be okay here. But hoo boy, don't just blunder on in expecting a cheerful romp from start to finish, because ... yeah. I said it before: This is a story about a bunch of bad guys. Bad guys don't live long lives, nor do the good people who get tangled up in their shit. Just be prepared!

bonus selling point: black and white husbands

Okay, I will tell you who one of the other pairs of gays is. You'll see the two of them show up near the tail end of the show, and then you'll decide you want to know more about what their whole deal is, and then you'll read Qi Ye, which is a novel entirely about gay pining, and then it'll be all over for you.

Ready to wander this way?

There's a number of ways to watch this one! Viki, Netflix, YouTube, and Amazon Prime all have you covered -- but Viki's the only one that has the epilogue at the ready, so I'd go there if you can.

And I get it, if you're enough of an aging hipster that you don't want to play in the same sandbox everybody else is playing in. Believe me, I understand that impulse on a visceral level. After all, this is not a small fandom -- 7718 works on AO3 (at time of writing) isn't Untamed levels of content, but it's nothing to sneeze at. Maybe you want to leave this one for a little while longer, until the hubbub dies down a bit more and people's attention is redirected by a different gay and shiny thing. That's valid. I get it.

But if you do, I still encourage you to get around to it someday. For all its flaws -- and yeah, it's got flaws -- it's a good, solid story that makes you feel lots of feelings about some fascinating characters in some beautiful costumes, running around being real queer (and okay, occasionally straight) to beautiful music. This, to me, is television.

Fun fact! There is also a Japanese dub, if you feel like taking it at that speed, and the guy who voices Zhou Zishu is the voice of Kaworu from Evangelion, and the guy who voices Wen Kexing is the voice of Victor Nikiforov from Yuri on Ice. See what I mean???

I'm telling you, everybody ships it.

[maddogofshimano]

The Tiger’s Repayment of a Favor: Saejima Boss Rush

Spoilers for Y4

Hell yes a new Saejima event! I’m always so excited for these, even if things are almost always going VERY poorly for Saejima in one way or another. He’s just a trouble magnet

Given the glut of resources I’ve accumulated over the years I blew nearly all of them on this event so that I could finally have a top 500 placement and get a fancy title plate 😎😎😎

Anyways, on to the event!

Summary: Shortly after the events of Y4, Saejima gets lost and is helped out by a kind stranger. When he finds that same stranger in trouble, he will go to any lengths to return the favor.

[On a certain day in 2010] [Almost immediately after Saejima Taiga, on the recommendation of Kiryu Kazuma and Majima Goro, launched the Tojo Clan Direct Line Saejima Family...] [Saejima was visiting the grave of his sister, Saejima Yasuko, and arrived in a town outside of Kamurocho.]

Saejima: ...Shit. I ended up gettin' lost. I ain't got a clue about places like this...

Saejima: I figured I'd stop by that restaurant Majima was talkin' up... Saejima: ...Oh. Now that I think about it, I got that smartphone Majima gave me. Is there a way to see a map on it?

<phone beeps> Saejima: Now where... is the map... supposed to be on this thing? This it? <phone beeps> Saejima: Nope, it ain't here. Is this it? No... maybe this? <phone beeps multiple times> Saejima: Oh, looks like this is it. Then, to search for a store... ya do this? Nah... is it this one? <phone beeps even more times, followed by thuds(?)> Saejima: Woah! The screen ain't workin' all the sudden!? I-Is it broken!!??

Glasses Wearing Man: Ladidadida~  ...Hm? Is something the matter?

Saejima: Ah, nah, I just went 'n' busted this smart phone... Man: Busted? ...Ah, it's actually just frozen. I could fix it for you if you'd like? Saejima: ...Is that alright? Man: Sure. I'm in a good mood because my work is going well, you know? Well, I suppose I don't actually do that much. Man: Hmm, just force-close the app... Huzzah, you're all good to go! Saejima: Oh! Ya really did it! Ya made it work! Saejima: I'm in your debt! What's your name?

Man: Oh no, I didn't do anything worth remembering my name for! See ya! Ladida~ 🎵 (tl note: I have no idea if this is less of a bizarre thing to say in Japan) <he leaves> Saejima: ...Heh, I had no clue how that was gonna go. Well then, let's check out that restaurant Majima mentioned... <Saejima finally gets his meal in Definitely Not Kamurocho> Saejima: Whew~! That was good food! Wouldn't expect anythin' less from a place my kyoudai recommended.

Saejima: Now then... I oughta get headin' home. ...Hm? Chinpira: Raaah!!!!

<the punk punches the man> Man: Guh... <he drops to the floor> Beefy Yakuza: ......

Chinpira: Oi! Don't fall over already Kosakai! We're not done here... (tl note: the name is 小酒井 with other readings being Osakai and Kozakai. Kosakai seems the most common) Saejima: Stop.

Chinpira: Ah, who the fuck are you? Saejima: I got no clue what this is about, but if ya wanna take it any further you'll be facin' me. Kosakai: U-.... Ughh... Y-You're... Saejima: It's alright. Stay back. Chinpira: ...So you're protecting that thief? Saejima: ...Thief? Chinpira: Don't ya know? This here Kosakai's made a killing off of petty thefts and swindling. Chinpira: He got carried away though and swiped our aniki's wallet, so we gotta teach him a lesson. Saejima: The hell? Is that true? Kosakai: ............ Saejima: Sure looks like he's tellin' the truth. Saejima: Don't tell me that when ya said work was goin' good... ya meant ya pulled a scummy job like that? (tl note: extremely funny for Saejima to get offended about stealing wallets. you are a crime boss) Kosakai: ...Yes. Chinpira: Now you get that he's not worth sticking your neck out for, right? So hurry up and move. Saejima: ...Nope, ain't movin'. Kosakai: !? Chinpira: What was that? Saejima: I'll take the punishment in his place. Leave him be. Kosakai: Umm... What are you... Chinpira: This isn't a fucking joke!!!! <Saejima gets punched> Chinpira: ...How's that? Still feeling the same?

Saejima: ...I ain't gonna hit back, so you're free to hit me as much as ya like. Teach me a lesson to your heart's content. (tl note: holding my head and trying to cobble together a wording that is accurate but doesn't just read as totally obscene in a masochistic kind of way but Saejima is making this so difficult) Chinpira: Tch... Fine, have it your way!!!! <a whole lot of beating sounds> Chinpira: Haa... Haa...

Saejima: ...Haa ...Haa... Are ya... satisfied now...? Chinpira: There's still more! <another punch> Saejima: ....Gh! Chinpira: Haa... Haa.... Saejima: If you're determined to do this, ya gotta do more. This ain't gonna take me down.  Kosakai: Wh-Why are you letting yourself get this badly hurt... Kosakai: All because of one little chat on the street? Doing this for my sake... when you're a total stranger to me... why on earth... Saejima: Well, why did ya help me out earlier? Kosakai: Eh? With your smart phone, you mean...? That was... I mean, I was in a good mood and just sort of felt like it. Saejima: Y'see... I also "just sort of felt like it". Kosakai: M-Mister... Chinpira: Haa... Haa... You just sort of felt like it? Stop fucking around... I'm gonna kill you... Beefy Yakuza: ...Wait. Chinpira: Eh... a-aniki... Beefy Yakuza: ...You're a stand-up guy, aren't you? I like you.

Saejima: ...You the boss? Kasagi: Yeah, Kasagi's the name. The owner of the wallet Kosakai tried to make off with. (tl note: name is 笠木 which can also be Kasaki but I went with Kasagi so it was a little more different from Kosakai) Kasagi: But after witnessing your manly spirit, I'm willing to forgive him. Saejima: Really? Kasagi: Yep. But, I'd lose face if I just let ya go back home like this. Kasagi: You know a lot about fighting, don't you? I'm actually one of those kinds of guys... Seeing someone strong gets me aching. (tl note: jesus fucking christ this really is just a BDSM scene) Kasagi: What do you say, will you fight me? Saejima: A fight, huh? Kasagi: A one-on-one fight, and if you win I'll let him walk free. If I win, then you'll hand that guy over like a good boy.  Kasagi: ...So how about it? Saejima: ...I'll do it. Since it'll make ya feel better. (tl note: the verb here is 気がすむ which is "to be satisfied" or "to feel good" which. look I'm trying really hard here to not make this all sound like dialogue from a porno but they're not helping me out!!) Kasagi: Good. And sorry about the damage, I'm not very good at holding back. You'll have to forgive me. Saejima: Ya better not go easy. Now hurry up 'n' come at me...! Kasagi: Heh, I thought you'd say that. Let's go all out then!

<the event happened, and I got way too many points>

Kasagi: S-... Strong...

<he hits the floor> Chinpira: A-Aniki!?

Saejima: ...Whew... Well then, I'll be takin' this guy.

<they start to leave, Kasagi pulls himself off the ground> Kasagi: Guh... W... Wait a minute.... Saejima: What d'ya want now? Kasagi: ...Who are you? Don't tell me... you're yakuza too? Saejima: ...I'm simply someone who got in a fight with ya. Who I am's got nothin' to do with that. Kasagi: I'm not trying to start shit again. I just... want to know who you are. Saejima: ...Saejima Taiga. Of the Tojo Clan. Kasagi: Saejima Taiga... You mean from the Saejima Family...? Saejima: ...We're leavin'. Kosakai: Y-Yes sir. <they leave> Kasagi: ...No wonder I wasn't a match for him.

Kosakai: ...U-Um... Thank you very much. If there's anything I can do to repay you...

Saejima: I was just returnin' the favor. No need to repay me. Kosakai: No way! But that's... but you... you didn't just help me out there. Kosakai: Thanks to you, Saejima-san... I've decided to stop with the petty theft and swindling... Saejima: Huh? What d'ya mean? Kosakai: Having seen you trying to return a tiny favor with no thought as to the risk you were putting yourself in... I realized how pathetic I was, preying on the good intentions of others. Kosakai: So... I'm going to live a respectable life, so that I can become the kind of man you are, Saejima-san. Saejima: ...That's just swell. If that's what ya want, then go for it. Kosakai: Yes sir! So, I want to repay the favor of you teaching me that! Saejima: I see... But don't worry about payin' me back. I've got an awful lotta favors I never managed to return. Kosakai: Eh... but... Saejima: If you're really determined to repay it, then pass the kindness on to someone else. Saejima: ...Just like ya did for me, back then.

Kosakai: ........Gotcha. I understand. Saejima: Well then, see ya. <Saejima leaves> Kosakai: Thank you so much! Saejima: Favors, huh... I've got a debt to Boss Sasai... I really wonder if I can pay it back.

<EVENT END>

Bonus stuff!

we do get the fun bits of lore that Kiryu recommended Saejima for a patriarch position, Majima is the one who gave Saejima a phone between games, and Saejima considers Majima a trustworthy foodie. along with one more thing...

I think we might have to consider if having dudes wail on him is some sort of fetish for Saejima and he’s just not quite aware of it. how many times has he just let someone beat on him when he really did not need to. really shines a new light on that whole thing with Kugihara

so just a few weeks ago they added a new rarity to the game beyond KSR, we now have UR. please take a look at the stat disparity going on here. it’s hurting me

the banner for the event had UR Majima and UR Saejima, so obviously I blew all my diamonds on it. I ended up with............ 4 Majimas!!!! the odds were 50/50!!!!!!!

in other news this blog is getting real close to 1,000 followers(!!!!) so I will have to update my event list in preparation for another translation give away. look forward to it!

[foundtherightwords]

The Firebird - Chapter 1

Pairing: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great) x OFC, fairytale AU

Summary: When Paul, a spoiled young prince, spots a strange bird in the forest near his palace, he impulsively chases after it, hoping to both escape from and prove himself to his disapproving mother. Thus he is plunged into an exhilarating adventure across a magical realm populated by enchanted princesses, dangerous monsters, and powerful wizards, an adventure that may change him more than he can ever imagine.

Chapter warning: none

Chapter word count: 3.5k

A/N: The real Paul I of Russia was kind of a jerk and came to such a sticky end (assassinated by his own officers) that I couldn't think of something realistic or historically accurate for him, so I had to put him into an AU. Plus, I've always loved Slavic fairy tales/folk tales, and it's been really fun working them into a fic. This is mostly based on Prince Ivan, the Firebird and the Gray Wolf, but there are elements from other tales as well.

I include a few Russian words for authenticity's sake. In case the meaning isn't clear from the text itself, there will be a translation at the bottom of the chapter.

Chapter 1

Once upon a time...

That is how these things often start, isn't it? Very well, then that is how we shall begin our tale.

Once upon a time, across thrice-nine lands, in a thrice-tenth kingdom, there lived a prince named Paul, a tsarevich, as sons of emperors and empresses of that land were called. Paul was the sole heir to a vast and powerful empire, but to own the truth, unlike the princes of the old stories, Paul himself was not noble or heroic, both in appearance and temperament. He could have been quite handsome if he had let his natural features shine instead of hiding them under the fashionable rouge and powder of those days. He could have been quite charming if his behaviors and expressions were a little more agreeable. He wished to rule but didn't know how or care to learn. He simply assumed that respect and power were owed him, and turned sulky and surly when he didn't get them, which was all the time.

Well, who could blame him? He was caught between two powerful and ambitious women—his father's aunt, the Empress Elizabeth, who had brought him up, and his mother, the Empress Catherine. Catherine, who had taken the throne from Paul's father, Emperor Peter, was a tenacious and ruthless ruler, and she loathed having to share her power. She kept Paul away from all matters of court and country, insisting that his sole and most important duty was to make an advantageous marriage and produce an heir for her. Perhaps she wished to raise this heir as she had not been allowed to raise Paul, and pass the throne directly onto him without having to go through her son, the son who reminded her so much of her feeble-minded husband.

Paul didn't remember his father. He was overthrown when Paul was just a boy, and died soon after—some said murdered by his own wife. He existed in Paul's mind less as a father and more as an abstract idea, an act of defiance against his mother.

And so Paul grew up from a sullen boy into a sullen young man, smothered by his grandmother, unloved and unwanted by his mother, and barely tolerated by the servants, for all that they waited on him hand and foot.

Yet for all his flaws, no evil thought resided in Paul's mind, no harmful desire coursed through his veins. He merely longed for his mother's affection, or, failing that, her acceptance. He longed, like any young man did, to prove his worth. But what was his worth? And how could he prove it, if he didn't know what it was?

As I've said, the empire to which Paul was heir is a vast one. Just how vast, nobody quite knows. It stretches from East to West, from ocean to ocean, and contains the loftiest, iciest mountains and the flattest, most arid steppes, the densest forests and the widest rivers. Though countless attempts had been made by cartographers and explorers to conquer its farthest reaches, many remained uncharted. Yet there are parts of the empire that very few know exist, and even fewer have seen. They stand just above the tall peaks or below the deep lakes, their entrances hidden behind a lightning-struck tree or inside a dark cavern. Look for them, and you'll never find them. During those times when the earth meets the sky, right before daybreak, on moonlit nights, or as dusk is falling, you may spy their denizens just out of the corner of your eyes, dancing in the water or flying on a magic horse, or moving about in their chicken-legged hut. But turn around to look more closely and you'll realize it's nothing but a branch breaking, a flock of birds suddenly taking flight, or a hare jumping back into its burrow.

Every child of the land knows the tales of those strange, hidden corners and their inhabitants, of Koschei the Deathless and Baba Yaga, of Ivan Tsarevich and Vasilisa the Beautiful. Paul, too, grew up with them, as told to him by an old, sad Fool dressed in motley clothes who hung about his mother's court. But as he grew older, he saw those tales as nonsense. There were always rules in the tales, but those rules never made sense. Why was it always the third prince or the youngest daughter who succeeded in their quests? Why was the orphan always aided by a wise old man or an enchanted doll or a talking horse? Well, he was an orphan of sorts—his father was dead and his mother barely even looked at him—so where was his magical helper? Then, as he grew older still, those tales were replaced by reports of conquests of foreign parts, lessons of history and politics, and whispers of how his mother had staged a coup and killed his father for the throne, of the illegitimate children she had hidden away. And so Paul had forgotten the fairy tales, dismissing them as absurd, fanciful yarn designed to fool only children. He was no longer a child; he was close to reaching his majority and must focus his attention on more serious matters.  

That was until the day he saw the firebird.

It was an early summer day in Tsarskoye Selo, the Tsar's Village. The court had recently moved to the Summer Palace there, and the Empress Catherine was spending half of her time mooning over that brainless oaf Potemkin who, blessed be the Saints, was away at war, and the other half of her time carrying it on with the even more brainless oaf Vasilchikov, in what Paul thought was a disgusting display of wantonness, unsuitable for any woman of her age, let alone an Empress. To make matters worse, Paul had turned eighteen over six months ago, yet she showed no sign of wanting to grant him more responsibility. Despite constant hints from his governor Panin and Paul himself, the Empress only gave noncommittal answers, telling Paul that he was going to inherit the throne, probably, one day, answers that meant to assure and only did the opposite. And she had taken to finding him a bride. Day after day, instead of attending the council or other court functions, he was forced to shift through miniatures after miniatures of all the major and minor princesses of Europe, searching for one that may catch his eye. In truth, none of them caught his eyes. They all looked the same, with their vacant gazes and simpering smiles, their powdered wigs and rouged cheeks. They all looked as though they were mocking him.

To escape the endless barrage of potential brides, Paul went to the barrack and gathered up his soldiers for drilling. This brigade, given to him by the Empress as a birthday present, was the one bright spot in Paul's days, but now he began to suspect, like the matter of finding a bride, it was just another way his mother sought to distract him. But at least it gave him something to do, and as he roared at the soldiers and reveled in the way they obeyed his commands, he dreamed of a day his mother may allow him to take them to war, or better yet, when she may be threatened by a coup—not a serious one, like the one that deposed his father, but a coup nonetheless, which he knew was a possibility, as many believed the empire shouldn't be ruled by a woman—and he would sweep in with his soldiers to save the day.

"My father was the father of his people," he shouted. This had been drilled into his head by his grandmother and his tutors until Paul no longer knew if it was what he truly believed or what he should believe. Both had blended into one in his mind. "And one day I will fulfill the duties and responsibilities of that role. I will lead a disciplined army of soldiers to make his dream for this great country come true!"

So perhaps it was unfortunate that his mother caught him just then.

By the thunderous look on her face as she called him into her private study, Paul knew he was in for another dressing down. His knees shook, and he hated himself for it, hated his mother for making him feel like a child. There was nothing else to do but to face her. Perhaps he could convince her and show how much he could be of use to her.

That hope disappeared the moment his mother spoke. "Are you planning your own little coup?" she barked, her sharp voice lashing at him like a whip. Paul almost cowered. He knew cowering would only bring on harsher words from his mother, so he forced himself to stand up straight. It was no use. She was relentless. "Is that what this is all about? Well you won't succeed, young man. The army is loyal to me. And the peasants will do as they are told. That is the truth." Paul was going to point out that there were talks of a peasant revolt, but his mother cut him off before he could utter a word. "It would be a terrible mistake to go against me," she snarled. "Because I know more about politics than you ever will. You would not last two minutes as a ruler!"

And whose fault is that? Paul wanted to scream. Whose fault was it that he didn't know what to do, what was expected of him? This was what his mother did, depriving him of power and agency and then admonishing him for rebelling against it. His blood boiled with the injustice of it all.

"And all your drilling with your little toy soldiers will get you nowhere at all. You see, power—power is a balancing act," she said. The gloating in her voice was more than he could bear, and he turned away again, gripping the pommel of his ceremonial sword until it dug painfully into his palm. "You have to learn how to walk the line. I would remind you always to remember from where your power, if you are ever to have any, which I doubt, will derive."

Those last few words made him pause. Did she just threaten to exclude him from succession? So she had been planning it all along, hadn't she? For all her talk about how Paul would rule one day, she had never truly wanted to share her power. He whirled around to face her, his face white with barely concealed rage.

"What do you mean, if I'm ever to have any power?" he said, biting out every word. "I shall rule! It is my birthright! You cannot deny me my birthright!"

"This is my country, you stupid boy!" Judging by her shout, it seemed his mother had realized her blunder and was trying to cover it up with a show of authority, as she always did. "Look for a bride! Get me an heir!"

"What am I to you, a breeding bull?" Paul snapped and had the brief satisfaction of seeing his mother flinch. He stormed off before she could think of a way to further punish him.

He went into his room, but the silk-covered walls and the gilded furniture felt like a cage closing in on him, making it hard to breathe. Tears of anger and frustration stung his eyes, and they fuelled the flame of his rage even more. He was a prince, and old enough to be Emperor, for God's sake, yet here he was, crying like a little boy being scolded by his mama! He stumbled outside, made his way to the stables, and shouted at the grooms to saddle a horse for him. He needed to get away from the palace, away from the court and its scheming, sycophantic courtiers, away from his mother and the chain she put around him. He urged the horse into a gallop and headed toward the woods that surrounded Tsarskoye Selo.

Paul didn't know how long or how far he'd ridden, when he suddenly became aware of the quietness of his surroundings. The birches, oaks, and lindens formed a green, whispering dome over his head, while thick growth underfoot muffled even the sound of the horse's hooves. He slowed the horse to a walk and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Even in this tranquil forest, his rage refused to subside.

If only she would die! Women her age and even younger were dropping dead every day. Why, even the Empress Elizabeth had died when she was not much older than his mother, yet his mother insisted on staying alive and being in the best of health, as though to spite him. When Paul was younger, he would have been ashamed and frightened of having such violent, vitriolic thoughts about his own mother, but now, he no longer bothered to keep them in check and even took a grim satisfaction from them.

A rustling sound, louder and more erratic than the swishing of the leaves, momentarily distracted him from those dark thoughts. He went around a thick grove of lindens and saw what was making the noise.

It was a bird, stuck in a bramble bush. It wasn't very big, about the size of a magpie, and appeared to be injured. One of its wings hung stiffly by its side, and it kept trying to lift itself out of the tangle of vines and thorns, to no avail.

But the bird's plight wasn't what drew Paul's attention—it was its plumage, the strangest and most magnificent he had ever seen, all shades of iridescent red and gold, glowing like a fireball in the last rays of the sun that speared through the trees. Its graceful tail feathers fluttered behind it like tongues of flame every time it made yet another futile leap over the bush. Yet, oddly enough, other than the flapping of its wings, the bird made no sound. There was none of the distressed twittering or cries that an animal would make in the same circumstances.

An unearthly feeling settled over Paul as he watched that ethereal bird. Half-forgotten memories of his childhood came trickling back, those long winter nights when he couldn't sleep and left his nursery—he didn't exactly have to sneak out, since none of his nurses and governesses paid any attention to him anyway—in search of the old Fool, who could always be found wandering the corridors of the palace at all hours. The Fool was the only one who treated Paul as a child and not a prince. "Well, what do you want, boy?" he would ask upon seeing Paul's forlorn face peeping out from behind a marble column.

"A story," Paul would reply.

"A story? Let's see now... Did I ever tell you about Little Bear's Son?"

And Paul would let himself get lost in the story until he fell asleep somewhere. He'd never gotten reprimanded for leaving his bed at night, because once the servants found out what he had been doing, they simply locked the door to the nursery. No more midnight fairy tales. No more fairy tales altogether.

Now, looking at the bird, Paul felt the same way he had while listening to the old Fool's stories. His anger and worries about his mother and the throne melted like ice under the sun, leaving only a childlike desire to capture that beauty, not to possess it, but only to hold it for a moment, to convince himself that it was real.

Cautious not to make any sudden movement or sound, he climbed down from the saddle and approached the bramble bush, thankful that the luxuriant summer grass and fallen leaves of many winters past were rendering his tread noiseless on the forest floor. The bird, still desperate to escape its thorny prison, seemed to take no notice of him. This close, Paul realized it was indeed injured—blood was still dripping from a wound on its wing, staining the gold feathers red, though it was from the thorns or something else, he did not know. Slowly, slowly, not daring to even breathe, he reached out, pulling the brambles back with one hand. The thorns were so sharp he could feel them through his kid gloves, but he ignored them. Gently pushing the brambles out of the way, he grabbed for the bird with his other hand.

There!

His hand closed around the feathered body, which was surprisingly hot to the touch, a fire that seeped through his glove, all the way to his bones. Bewildered, Paul looked more closely at his catch and noticed that its eyes, instead of being small and beady like most birds', were rather large and human-looking, except they were golden, like an eagle's. Before he could contemplate this oddity, however, the bird screeched—a horribly humanlike sound it was too—and the fire from its body was no longer warming but scorching. With a startled yelp, Paul loosened his fingers, and the bird, now free of the brambles, dove straight into his face, its good wing hitting him in the eye, blinding him, and, with a wriggle, freed itself from his hand, leaving behind only a tail feather.

When Paul's eyes cleared, he saw that the bird was a mere flash of gold amongst the trees, almost disappearing into the sunset. The feather in his hand gleamed and shimmered like gold, its heat still palpable even through his glove. There were some scorch marks on the glove where the bird had burned him, and a few drops of blood as well.

Tucking the feather into an inner pocket of his coat, he jumped back on the saddle and spurred the horse forward. Like a child who would happily sustain scratches and bruises while climbing over rocks and wading through streams to run after a beautiful butterfly, there was no thought in his mind but the chase. Far from deterring him, those scorch marks only made him long to feel that strange fire in his palm again. He couldn't explain why that yearning was so strong; he didn't even stop to think about it. He simply gave chase.

Through trees and bushes, heedless of the branches that stung as they snapped across his face, heedless of the violent bumping and jostling of the gallop, over shallow brooks and swamps that sucked at the horse's hooves, Paul kept after the firebird. The bird flew with astonishing speed, and only the injured wing kept it within Paul's sight, as it flitted, mockingly, through the green vault that surrounded him, always ahead but only just, always a finger's tip out of his reach.

A grove of silver birches rose before him, rows after rows of ruler-straight, snow-white columns, new leaves turning darker green in the gathering dusk. The bird flew through two birches growing close together, their crooked trunks twisting away from each other while their branches met overhead, forming an arch. The flash of gold winked in and out as the bird faltered and dipped, and Paul bent down until his face was almost pressed into the horse's neck, his heels dug into its flanks, his arm outstretched. Almost—almost—

The horse reared up with a frightened whinny, throwing Paul off the saddle.

The leaf-strewn forest floor softened his fall, but it did nothing for his temper. "Stupid beast!" he snarled, not noticing how the horse was nervously pawing the air in front of the crooked trees with its front legs, refusing to go through. He only saw that the bird was disappearing.

Without a look back, he leaped through the opening between the birches and ran after his quarry.

The bird seemed to be tiring. It dipped behind a thicket of saplings that grew on the edge of the grove, their roots covered by ferns and other undergrowth, and didn't come back up. Paul grinned. He got it cornered now.

The trees were thinner here. As he approached the thicket, he could glimpse a meadow just beyond, and hear the murmur of a nearby stream. The red glow at the edge of the world was fading into soft pink, turning the sky a bluish gray and throwing the forest into a shadowy twilight.

A brief glow seemed to emanate from the thicket and was gone in an instant, which Paul chalked up to a trick of the dying light. The bush rustled. The weary bird must have thought it could hide in there until it was safe to come out again. For a moment, Paul felt rather sorry for the poor creature, but his curiosity was stronger.

He leaned down and spread the foliage apart.

His jaw dropped.

There was no sign of the bird. Lying there, amongst the ferns and tall grass, was a girl.

Her long, red hair covered most of her body. Between the wavy tresses, he could glimpse a delicate shoulder blade, an arm bearing an angry wound that was still weeping blood, and bare legs curled up in exhaustion.

At the sound of his gasp, she lifted her head slightly and regarded him with a sullen eye. 

"What?" she said. "Have you never seen an undressed woman before?"

Chapter 2

A/N: I have no idea what "thrice-nine lands" and "thrice-ten kingdoms" mean. That's just how every Russian fairy tale begins.

The exchange between Empress Catherine and Paul was taken almost verbatim from Episode 2 of the show.

Taglist: @ali-r3n

[savingthrcw]

"Is that how long they last?... Whatever." She didn't bother correcting the number, who cared, it wasn't as if her math skills would impress him, but she did wonder if he had thrown in a random amount of time or he was boasting about knowing some biology.

She watched the different expressions on his face - he wasn't extremely open, but as someone who often was called out over having two expressions at most, stony and angry, she could recognize some flickers of surprise or the obvious fact that he was enjoying annoying her, the shithead. As long as he didn't get gross about it and her temper took over, though, it was just part of life, and messing with her over being kind or, probably, a loser since he was so ready to point out he had never heard of her, wasn't a big deal. Although she did wonder how long he had been stuck down there.

"Well, he ain't getting any unwanted publicity from me, that's what matters," she retorted, casually choosing the wrong pronoun to stay true to her word. Lee could be as open as she wanted, but she wouldn't give her name to anyone without permission.

And then he grabbed Pat, and her hand was already on her pistol, ignoring the minigun, which was slower and less accurate, in favor of quickly aiming it at his head, before Roy had even grabbed his weapon. Playing around and discussing things politely was all nice and fun until one of hers was threatened, and she'd rather let him see how fast she could be too than to risk it. But he let go of Pat just as fast, and she tipped her gun towards the ground slightly, still keeping it up, a move to show that she wasn't about to shoot him anymore unless he tried to shoot first. Fuck it if she wouldn't die for those two idiots, even knowing how deadly this ghoul was.

Consider this my advance, for dealin' with your Dom Pedro problem. Her eyebrows up, her interest piqued, and she thought whether fighting over pride was worth risking her life as much as protecting Pat had been. No, not over a weapon. Especially not over a weapon taken by someone who otherwise would be unarmed, she did say she'd let him go, couldn't begrudge him for wanting to be able to fight. She'd do the damn same thing.

"What did people use to say? Godspeed?" "Really?" Roy questioned her, but she ignored him. "Curious to see if you can actually take Dom Pedro down... Remember my offer," she lowered her weapon, considering the risk over. "But if you ever show up again to work together, I'll want a weapon back."

Later, she ignored their questions about why she had acted that way - what was she supposed to tell them? That she had been captured before and had stolen from people too? That she didn't want to risk their lives? She'd get herself stabbed before admitting the last one - and instead worked on tracking down the head, first finding out that a ghoul, surely the one they had met, had practically shot the entire town, then finding the beheaded scientist, then a lake with a dead gulper. The tracks got only more baffling from there, it looked like more people had been around the head in the first place, and she picked a random trail to follow. Or, more specifically, let Roy do it, since it was one of those skills that made him worth of being brought along, besides his lockpicking.

Sadly it meant that her very little drinkable water was starting to be below what she hoped to still have, even when mixing it with other drinks, and the Super Duper Mart they saw became a potential source of supplies. What was inside, however, turned out to be more baffling than the outside: open cages, a bunch of dead bodies, the cowboy ghoul in front of the tv. As she came closer, she also noticed vials and drugs, and that some of the bodies were ghouls. What the fuck? She was about to express that sentiment when she heard the voice from the tv, the familiar, heartbreaking voice she hadn't heard ever since her last holotape had broken. She walked around the tv to see her father's face on the monitor. Roy recognized the voice too and made Pat sign to wait, knowing that it made her unpredictable, but Janey could only sit clumsily on the first available surface, staring at the screen, her minigun dropping on her lap.

This changed things, she'd kill him on the spot for that tape, if he decided to take him away. It. That wasn't her dad. Well, it was, but he was recorded there, speaking-speaking with that voice and posing as a cowboy. She felt like she had gotten her brain zapped with electricity, because the accent, the damn accent was wrong and it had messed with her head, and her memory of her father went to hell every now and then thanks to her mother and she needed a refresher, but now that she had it, she was listening to her dad, was watching her dad wear that hat, act like a cowboy... Faster, faster than she had ever been before, Janey hit the back of his head with her minigun, which felt as light as a feather due to the adrenaline rushing through her veins. "What... Coop, what the fuck?" Roy asked incredulously, "Why? "That's my dad," Janey blurted out, and Roy gave her a what in an even higher voice, "That's-Get rope. I need to think." Did she? She could be having a nervous breakdown after all. Looking at the white powder on the table, she thought that maybe he had had the right idea, how people would even deal with so many emotions was a mystery to her.

"See, it is a boasting point: I lasted like at least ten generations of bloatflies."

Oh, she didn't actually know the exact lifecycle length of a bloatfly, did she? That made her response to his throwaway insult even funnier.

"Yeah, ten months is real impressive, swee'heart."

The Ghoul drawled back, voice thick with sarcastic amusement. From context, he could infer what the raider had probably been trying to convey - and sure, ten years in the raiding lifestyle was actually quite a feat. Most folks died, or came to their senses and switched career paths, well before then. The ones that stuck around this long and had lackeys, well. They'd usually stirred up enough chatter for him to have heard about them by now.

Maybe this one would have a name he'd recognise more than her face.

"We had a sniper. He got greedy and got his head blown off. Bloaty style."

He was actually a little surprised that she'd admit that to him. Granted, it didn't guarantee she had nobody out there covering her and her two lackeys - but after her little speech about how she was such a generous boss who invested in paying skilled people what they were worth, it was rather ironic that she'd just had to put one down for getting greedy. Clearly there had been a disagreement over how much the sniper's skills had been worth.

"Shame," he commented, with the mordant humour of someone who'd just seen all the cards in his opponent's hand and knew he could take the winning pot.

No sniper, no problem.

Another clear reaction at his pointed choice of words. Instead of bristling at his blatent button pressing, however, the raider averted her gaze. Oh, that was interesting.

"I'm in a "I wanna fuck with the Enclave today" kinda mood."

She was really keeping her manners on, wasn't she? That was sensible, even if it wasn't very sporting. The Ghoul magnanimously decided to let the subject go. After all, he had more important matters to focus on than needling this stranger for the sake of seeing her squirm. And by the look that just crossed her face, she was already off her game enough that she'd forgotten introduce herself.

"Right. I'm Coop."

The Ghoul's expression went abruptly, unsettlingly blank.

He barely registered the names of the two men as she finished off her side of introductions; a haze of static was setting in, bouncing the old nickname around in his mind, turning it over. Trying to discern whether this was some sort of sick joke. Trying to discern whether or not she knew.

There was no way she could know. She hadn't delivered it like a punchline; she hadn't paused to take in his reaction, or given any indication that she'd expected there to be one. It was just a stupid coincidence.

Then, one of the newly introduced raiders (Pat?) raised his hand and actually waved hello at him. That was nonplussing enough to pull The Ghoul back out of his head, and watch as Coop and her other buddy collectively cringed at the social faux pas.

"... he's our Brahmin, ignore him."

Ah, so he'd been right. That one was the weakest link. The one who carried the bags because he didn't shoot as good or think as fast.

If this went to shit, Pat was going to make a good meat shield.

"As for my friend, if I went around giving the names of people I work with and for, wouldn't be good publicity, would it?"

The Ghoul's eyes narrowed knowingly. So this friend was the real big fish - and probably the source of all these promised caps, given this raider was so reluctant to risk being cut out of the deal.

"Oh, I get the feelin' your friend's had plenty of publicity already," he remarked, low and shrewd. Certainly he'd put money on them being someone more familiar than these strangers.

"You, on the other hand... Maybe you oughtta hire a publicist, 'cause I've heard a marked lack o' chatter about you."

Maybe because she'd been a lackey herself for most of her career, and some big-name boss had been taking all the credit. Or maybe because she just hadn't really done shit outside of scavenge easy pickings and mug some small merchants, and that was why she'd survived so long in the first place.

"You'll hear more from me if you join us. If not, find the answers out there. You'll find me too, if you ever need caps."

For all her purported confidence in what she had to offer, this woman really did seem set on giving him an easy out. Was that big ol' minigun of hers out of bullets from her disagreement with her former sniper, or something?

The Ghoul's lips quirked.

"Well, I'll tell you what," he started, with offhanded cheer, as he stepped in close enough to clap a faux-friendly hand on Pat's shoulder.

"Y'all are some of the politest raiders to ever point a gun at me, an' I'll admit that tickles me a bit, so -"

With the deft speed of a viper, he made his move. His other hand firmly clamped down on Pat's elbow - using his newfound leverage point, The Ghoul sidestepped behind his quarry, and smoothly twisted the young raider's weapon arm up behind his back to divest him of his nice looking gun.

"- I'll take it under advisement," The Ghoul finished with that same affected equanimity, releasing Pat almost as quickly as he'd grabbed him with a patronising little pat to the head.

Nothing personal, bucko. Just how the game goes.

He retreated with his newly procured gun - how good it felt to be armed again at last - and kept it pointedly levelled at Coop, while he gauged the reaction to his little breach of niceties. Just in case she wasn't feeling so kindly any more now that he'd robbed one of her own, or so inclined to let him walk away.

"Consider this my advance, for dealin' with your Dom Pedro problem," he gave by way of simple explanation, and tipped his hat for good measure - a sardonic little thank you for what he knew he hadn't had permission to take.

And if you have any sense, you'll realise how lucky you are that this is all I'm charging you for the mistake of unleashing me for a recruitment pitch.

He'd have shot and looted the lot of them, but, well. They had technically done him a favour, and they hadn't tried to threaten or extort him yet.

If this Coop was serious about being willing to let him walk away, with the chance of future jobs still on the table and no grudges held, then he had a feeling it was probably more advantageous to not completely burn this particular bridge right now.

Either way, he was definitely about to find out who this weirdly polite old raider actually was - folks always showed their honest character when things started going wrong.

@savingthrcw

[plus-size-reader]

Why

Cato Hadley x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2108 words

Warnings: none

Summary:  Reader is a tribute for the Hunger Games, no one thinks she’s going to make it until Cato steps in. The one thing you don’t understand is, Why does he care? 

Updated version of “Why Does He Care” an old fan favorite. 

—————————————————————————————————

They knew you wouldn’t win. 

It hadn’t even registered as a possibility in most of their minds, but that didn’t matter all that much. 

All the game makers cared about was that you made a show of it, and if you could, got stabbed in view of one of the thousands of cameras surrounding the arena.

That was all you had to do. 

You weren’t the strongest, the fastest, or the smartest that your district had to offer and everyone seemed to have already come to terms with the fact that you would be leaving the arena in a body bag.

They just didn’t see how a woman of your status and stature could ever hope to compete with others in the games. Against the Careers, a group of highly trained young people whose lives revolved around being able to win, you would surely meet your end. 

However, you weren’t going to just accept defeat right off the bat. 

Even if you didn’t win, you were going to put up one hell of a fight once that canon went off. You owed that to your family, and your district, and yourself. 

No one in their right mind wanted to participate in the Hunger Games,and you certainly didn’t want to either, but you had been chosen to represent your district and you weren’t going to shy away from the responsibility. 

At the very least, you had to try. 

If nothing else, the fact that no one believed in you could serve as an extra push, the push you would need to take down as many other tributes as possible in the process. 

You knew that you could do that. 

Though, that fire did sort of dull as soon as you walked into the large training room, surrounded by all the other tributes from all the other districts. Once you got a look at them up close, you were less sure of yourself than you had ever been. 

How quickly it had all changed.

From the moment you walked into that room, which was more of a cell of brushed aluminum and cool steel, you were forced to recon with the reality of the situation. 

This was happening. 

You were going to die. 

The way in which you would die wasn’t something you were all that fond of considering, but as best you could tell, the Career pack would be to blame. 

Stories of what they were capable of, training tirelessly to volunteer for their games and slaughter the competition were widespread all over Panem but you couldn’t have imagined how intimidating they were in real life. 

Each one of them was a skilled, and accurate, death machine and you had no chance of surviving an altercation with even the weakest among them, who you had ultimately decided was Glimmer. 

She was talented and smart but lacked the determination that the others had. 

Even in her case though, you could see what they always said about the Careers. They were raised to believe there was no other point to their lives other than to win the Hunger Games. 

If they didn’t win, they weren’t worth anything, not that it would matter. If they didn’t win, they would end up just the same as all the rest of you, in a shallow grave somewhere. 

That was just how it was. 

You did your best to keep to yourself at first, not wanting to elicit any more violence than absolutely necessary right off the bad. It was no secret to you that the other tributes didn’t take you seriously. 

The last thing you wanted was for them to try and prove themselves at your expense before you were out in that arena. 

Unfortunately, the other tributes, namely the Careers, had already made up their minds. In the few days that you had been training, they had been making fun of you the entire time.

For them, it was one big joke.

When they looked at you, it was clear that all they saw was the first person they were going to stick their swords into. They didn’t take you seriously at all and at this point, you weren’t even sure if you blamed them. 

Each time you threw a punch or swung your axe at a target, they hooted and hollered from their place on the sidelines and called you out for each imperfection they saw in your maneuvers, and they weren’t wrong. 

You had no idea what you were doing. 

This was all new for you, because where you were from, hand to hand combat just wasn’t something you would have ever come across. Before now, you hadn’t even seen most of the things in front of you here. 

You were out of your element.

By the end of the first week, you hadn’t even begun to make any progress. However, there was one thing that had changed and you couldn’t even pinpoint when or why it had happened. 

At some point, Cato had stopped criticizing you in the same way his compatriots were.

You weren’t sure why he would even bother, but seeing as you didn’t really talk to him, you couldn’t ask. It was much easier to just be silently grateful for the break, and try to focus on what you were doing. 

While it wasn’t looking good to start, you didn’t want to sabotage your chances of survival with any more wasted time.  

The other Careers had noticed the change in him too, but not one of them dared to comment on it, even if it didn’t make any sense to them. The anger that they would risk in doing so just wouldn’t be worth getting answers. 

Instead, they let him do whatever it was he was doing, waving it off as some kind of tactical maneuver. He knew what he was doing, and it wasn’t their place to ask too many questions and get him off his game. 

When Cato first headed in your direction, closing the vast distance between you on the training floor, you assumed that he was intent on proving to you just how out of place you were here. 

...But that couldn't have been farther from the truth. 

In truth, what Cato was doing was far from a tactical measure. More than anything, he just couldn’t bring himself to make fun of you anymore. 

He didn’t think that your weight alone was enough to warrant the constant abuse you were suffering. 

Besides, It was clear that you were putting in a lot of work to get better, which was more than most of the other tributes were doing. You weren’t going to take this lying down, which he could respect. 

From the looks of it, your technique just needed some polishing, and you would be just as good a fighter as anyone here, with the exception of himself.

“You need to strike higher” he prompted, coming out of nowhere and nearly shocking you out of your fighting stance. You had been so focused that you didn’t even hear him approach. 

Still, it didn’t occur to you that he might have been trying to help at first. After all this time, he didn’t strike you as the friendly, just trying to help type. He was much more of the scowl and stab sort of person. 

You couldn’t be blamed for feeling that way. 

“Strike higher” he repeated, closing the space between you to wrap his arm around your frame, moving your axe in the exact way he had been telling you to do. 

There was nothing snide or rude in his tone, but you couldn’t focus on that.

All you could think about were his strong hands on your body, and the clear concern he had for whatever in the world he could have wanted from you. 

You tensed under his touch, desperately trying to decipher how you had gotten to this point or what you were supposed to do now that you were here. 

There was nothing particularly romantic about his touch, which you understood, but it was still foreign to be on the receiving end of. No one had ever held you like this, under any circumstances.

“Hit here, not here” he muttered, his voice far too close to your ear this time, forcing a breath from your lungs you weren’t aware you’d trapped there. He moved the axe, and your arm attached to it, to demonstrate what he meant. 

...And as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. 

When he moved his arms, in succession with his words, he hit the target at jugular height, instead of in the trunk where you had been aiming.

It was a much better hit than you had been landing all day, showing how much more experience he had with this than you. 

“Thanks” you muttered, glancing at him quickly, desperately hoping that he wouldn’t look at you but you wouldn’t have been so lucky.

Cato looked down just at the same moment as you turned your head to take in his profile. 

You expected him to say something about it but he offered nothing, content to just stare back down at you with a slight smirk on his face. 

“Somebody bigger than you is going to be able to push back if you aim here” he explained finally, lightly resting the palm of his right hand against your abdomen where you’d been aiming before. 

It made sense, of course. 

“If you aim at the weakest part, it doesn’t matter how much stronger an opponent is” he hummed, this time bringing that same hand up to where your throat was, not missing the way you gulped under his touch. 

“And you can’t kill anyone aiming at their ankles” he laughed, shrugging at that, as if he shouldn’t have to explain that part to you. Even someone who knew nothing about this wasn’t going to be shocked at that. 

Cato just didn’t want you to think that he was playing some sort of sick game with you. He was really trying to help, even if that wasn’t really in his nature. 

Never in his life had Cato cared about anyone, or been drawn to another person like he was with you. 

His entire life was all about winning the games, and there was nothing more than that. 

That was all he’d ever cared about. 

...But for some reason, making sure that you survived this whole thing was becoming really important to him. 

There was just something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on, but whatever it was, he didn’t have all that much time to figure it out. This whole thing was happening, whether he wanted it to or not. 

The best thing he could do for you was prepare you to survive, with or without him. 

“Oh, I couldn’t kill anyone” you hummed, doing your very best to be as nonchalant about it as you could. You were doing your best to figure out how to protect yourself out there but you had already made you mind up on that front. 

You weren’t going to kill anyone. 

It was something you had decided on before you even knew your name had been drawn the day of the reaping, but this was new information for Cato. 

New information that almost shocked him into silence. 

Cato had always known that he would need to kill someone, at some point. It was never a question in his mind, or something that even had any effect on him. It was part of his life, and to hear that someone else had never even considered it was new for him. 

If you didn’t kill anyone the entire time you were in the arena, you would die. 

You had to know that. 

Surely you knew that. 

“If you don’t, you’re going to die” he spoke, the words leaving his lips before he even had time to react. There was a finality to it, something you hadn’t seen coming, and at first, you thought it may have been a joke. 

The two of you really didn’t know each other all that well, or at all, so making jokes seemed sort of strange but it wasn’t necessarily something that upset you. 

You were just shocked at his urgency. 

This really was something that was bothering him, but there was one thing that was still bothering you. This was the first time you had ever spoken to him in your life, and as flattered as you were that he cared about what happened to you, it didn’t make any sense. 

Why did he care about someone like you? 

[yesimwriting]

Dying Starlight

A/n: i dont think an audience for this exists?? ik it’s not shadow and bone related, but ive been reading red queen and i wanted to try writing maven and ive been playing with this idea. umm...on the off-chance that there is an audience for this i do think of this as more of a series but i’ll probably end up deleting this lol 

(Series?) Summary: reader is a childhood friend of Mare’s who isn’t officially part of the Scarlet Guard but gets captured by Maven. As a prisoner, she feels like her mind is being messed with as she begins to see a more human side of Maven. The new King tells himself the only thing he sees in her is that she’s a way to get to Mare, but something about her genuiness is infectious. 

-- 

Irony twists things. Right now, the irony that my last thoughts might be about how I wish I had been trusted with a suicide pill twist my impending doom into something almost comical. I’d laugh, but I’d rather not startle the rats in my cell. This has been their home for presumably years, but I’ve only been down here a few hours. 

I scratch the back of my wrist, staring at tired stone walls like they’ve done something to me. I wish I knew what time it was. How long have I been down here? How long has it been since I was separated from Mare? An hour? Three?Each passing minute strikes me like a bullet, but I can’t count them. I’ve never had a talent for accurately feeling the passage of time.

My head aches, frustration and dread tangling themselves in the pit of my stomach. Mare told me the Queen can search through someone’s mind, seeing memories even they can’t remember. What will they do when they see I know virtually nothing? What will happen when they see how close Mare and I truly are? i can’t do anything and the unknown hurts more than my bruised rib. 

The sound of the heavy door that divides the luxury of the castle from the wasteland of the cells creaks. I only let my arms flinch, moving from my side to wrap defensively around my stomach. Dull footsteps echo down the pathway that lead to the cell I’m in. I don’t cringe, not even when the sound of walking stops. 

I was not born into a rich family, but I was born into a proud one. Fear was practically a criminal act in my household. I’ve been trained to suppress all signs of weakness. My eyes don’t leave the stone wall, I mentally trace the pattern of a long crack in a specific rock. It reminds me of the slope of the Big Dipper. 

Will I ever see stars again? The answer leaves a sharp pain in my chest. 

“Mare told me about you.” 

The words jar me, my stomach dropping in revulsion. Mare had trusted him, and here he stands--successful because he’s a traitor. I know what it’s like to be the most overlooked sibling and to crave to change that. I know what it’s like to want to succeed more than you want air in your lungs, but I don’t think I’d ever betray someone. I like to think that there’s a line even the monster in me won’t cross. 

I don’t look at him, partially out of an attempt to protest and partially because I’m afraid of what I’ll see. “She might have mentioned you in passing.” 

His scoff is ridiculous. “She didn’t lie about your sense of humor.” 

That almost makes me wince. His words are too close, too personal. It’s like he knows me. I turn my. head, ready to cut through the uneasy beginning to get to the miserable middle if it brings me to the end faster. 

“You’re here to torment me, not make small talk.” Turning had been a mistake. I regret it instantly. His expression is unforgiving--cold, sharp, and made up of only angles. But that’s not why I stare. I did not expect him to be objectively attractive. The fine slope of his nose, the sharpness of his cheekbones, and the ice blue of his eyes. I need to snap out of this mindset. I’m sure his beauty will not be so distracting when he’s burning me. “Though some might consider that the same thing.” 

He scoffs again, the sound dry. The sneer of his lips does not diminish his attractiveness. The fact makes me loathe him. “I wonder if you’ll still be so prone to humor after you’ve been broken--any information of worth extracted from your thoughts.” 

“Let me save everyone the trouble and just tell you everything that I know now.” My back straightens despite the pain in my ribs. I look pathetic, dirty and in a torn dress. He’s regal, dressed in fine, all black clothing. “I know that Mare wanted to kill you today, I know that she needed a distraction and that her distraction needed to be expendable, which is why I’m sitting in front of you.” I squeeze my hands together awkwardly, a bit of genuine irritation rolling in my stomach. “That’s literally all I know, I’m not even part of the Guard.” I scratch the back of my wrist. If I were him, I wouldn’t believe that, but I’m being honest. How pitiful can one person be that they’re worth more disconnected from the group they work for than as an actual member? “You don’t take that kind of risk for someone that’s only skill set is in thought.” 

I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but I don’t regret it. Maybe he’ll think that my story is so pathetic it has to be true. “You have to know more than that.” 

“The Scarlet Guard only reaches out to me on a need-to-know basis, and anything worthwhile to you is something I clearly didn’t need to know.” In a way, I’m glad I can’t give him anything. “So are you going to kill me with a bullet or do you prefer more flamboyant executions?” My death should be plain. I am human completely--I bleed red and I have no powers. “I do think anything more than a simple death is more trouble than I’m worth.” 

His lips press together oddly, something beneath his expression tightening. “You don’t think your dearest friend will return for you?”

The sarcasm in his voice sparks something in me I thought only my sister could. “I think she has a lot of responsibilities and I wouldn’t blame her for having priorities.” 

His eyebrows draw together. “I think you’re painfully unaware of how attached to you she is.” I press my lips into a thin line. “She’ll come for you.”

Something selfish in me hopes that he’s right. No one has ever wanted me enough to come back for me. My mother wanted perfect daughters that knew how to only think in terms of trapping men with stable careers. My sister did it, but I could never manage, and to my mother that made me useless. 

“If you believe it,” I mumble beneath my breath.

I don’t know if he hears me. I can’t bring myself to care if he did. “For your sake, you better not have lied to me.” 

My back relaxes against the raspy wall, fighting down a grimace as the motion irritates my rib injury. “Cross my heart, Your Highness.” 

I watch him carefully, his expression turning into something much more grim. “A King is referred to as His Majesty.” 

“My father was a prominent war general and my mother only wanted daughters she could use to social climb.” I fight down a grin. “I know what I said.” 

His expression darkens into something bone chilling. “I am the King and you’ll refer to me as such or deal with even less pleasant circumstances.” 

I fight against the urge to cower, picturing Mare’s strength in my veins. There’s weakness in everyone, and if I squint I can see the thin cracks in him. “You have everything--the crown, the power, the support of the people, and it’s still not enough. You won and you still feel like you’re competing.” 

“You don’t know anything,” he seethes, practically growling. 

I shouldn’t press him, but the more he reacts, the more weaknesses are revealed. “I know what it’s like to have a sibling that’s the sun, and no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, you’re always trapped in a shadow.” 

The lighting makes his eyes look almost glazed over. “My mother will be here soon and the truth will be revealed.” 

He can run from me, but not the truth. Cal has nothing, he has everything--the father that never cared for him is dead, and yet he’s still trapped. Our similarities hurt me more than my physical injuries. 

Maven turns, his gaze moving off of me feels like the removal of heavy shackles. “It would do you well to not press me. You’re worth as much whole as you are broken.” 

There’s the strangest hint of something more to his voice. I wonder if he’s speaking to more than just me. “You haven’t won until that voice in your head telling you that you’re not enough is silenced.”

“You’re a powerless girl who isn’t even wanted by a dying cause and couldn’t find a husband to drag her above the poverty line. You know nothing about me, and if you keep pretending I’ll slaughter you in front of your dear friend.” 

He leaves without another word. I fall asleep with my back against the wall and my ribs aching. 

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Poseidon

Fishy fishy fishy… I honestly could write 100 more things for Poseidon MC and Levi. I just love the dynamic between an insecure, otaku shut-in and a chill California surfer dead set on becoming his friend.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon 

For anyone unaware, Poseidon is also the god of horses. I know it's a weird combo, but I didn't write the mythos.

Lucifer

…..

They came out of the portal….

On a horse….

They brought the mortal down to the Devildom…

On a goddamn horse….

There's a demigod on a live horse brandishing a weapon and doing laps around the Student Council Room…

Congratulations, he already wants to pull his hair out!!

Honestly, it would have been preferable to pluck them out of the sea. At least then they'd just need a towel! What the hell were they going to do with an entire horse!?

And his nightmare didn't stop there. Poseidon is a notoriously mercurial god, prone to bouts of anger and spitefulness for reasons far less grievous than kidnapping his children… 

Their apology was swift and (seemingly) effective, though the tide waters around the Devildom did rise by several feet for some time…

As for the MC… uh… Well, they're an energetic one to say the least…

Lucifer hasn't met a more active individual since Mammon. They horseback ride, swim, surf, skateboard, and probably do ten other things - the point is, they Hardly. Keep. Still! 

They're also annoyingly easygoing… He can't count the number of times they've told him to, "Just chill out," or, "Hang loose…" What does that even mean??

Between having to order a stable made for their horse and just trying to keep up with them, Lucifer already thinks this mortal has caused him more trouble than they're worth… At least they keep Mammon busy...

Mammon

Upon first meeting them atop their horse, Sunset, his first thought was of course:

"I wonder if I sell that...?"

After that, they nearly fed him to sharks for trying to take their beloved steed on same night. Safe to say, he never touched a hair on its head again…

These two had a rocky start, but their relationship mended fairly quickly. As it turns out, the MC is literally one of those "go with the flow" types. You can say it was water under the bridge soon enough.

Mammon actually thinks the MC is a hell of a lot of fun, even if they're super laid-back. Most of the time, they won’t take his drive for money (or fear of his bills) all that seriously and tell him that he’s worrying too much, but they’ll still lend a hand if its on their way.

He finds their ability to control water pretty cool as well. Levi has it to some extent, but the MC can make a whole-ass whirlpool or use water like a whip! 

He once begged them to call up some rare fish for him to sell, but they got all pseudo-philosophical on him about how “trading life for material wealth” is “not cool, dude...”

He also made the mistake of challenging them to a splash fight only once…. They managed to drench the whole family with a single wave….

The only thing that bothers him is their weird insistence on being Levi's "Best Buddy…" Why would someone like them even bother with a shut in??

Is it the water? … Probably water. Levi, that lucky bastard…

Leviathan 

Thinks they're a big normie, no scratch that, a HUGE normie! The biggest normie he's ever met!! They skateboard and horseback ride for Devil's sake!!

...But they’re also, undoubtedly, the best friend he could've ever asked for.

To be fair to Levi, their friendship was sort of forced upon him. The MC took one look at him, his aquatic-themed room, and his pet goldfish then declared their new friendship status at that moment. 

Unfortunately for him, though, they're energetic, extroverted, and generally have little understanding of personal space… aka, an introvert's worst nightmare…

The next month could accurately be described as the MC doing everything in their power to make their stubborn "senpai" like them.

They would drag him out to the aquarium, beach, or pool; they befriended Henry so he could put in a good word for them; and they'd even bring him little gifts or trinkets they'd find on the ocean floor. Pretty shells and stuff like a cat bringing its master a dead mouse.

After he finally began to accept them as a persistent fixture in his life, he introduced them to gaming and anime and started accepting them little by little...

By the end of their stay, these two were practically inseparable. Not just because they like spending time together, but because they figured out they could have a telepathic link due to Levi being part sea serpent. 

No matter how far they are, they can always have a chat! (That no one else can hear so people think they’re just crazy...)

Satan

Satan honestly isn't the MC's biggest fan, he generally finds them too loud and gregarious for his liking. But their horse…?

He never really thought that he'd be a horse man... Yet it didn’t really take long for Satan to adore Sunset, their beautiful golden-maned mare. Apparently she's not their only horse, but by far their favorite traveling companion.

Sunset is a wonderful horse - brave, strong, and well-trained. It only took a few weeks before he was regularly sneaking out to the stables to brush her fur or feed her apples...

After the MC taught him how to ride, that was it. All other forms of transportation were inferior to him now.

Satan would ride Sunset everywhere and he looked damn good doing it! It takes all that fairytale Prince Charming thing he has going on and puts it through the roof.

It's a good thing too, because when I say everywhere, I do mean everywhere. Lucifer had to put seals on the House doors to keep Satan from riding Sunset through the hallways...

Of course, he’ll always let the MC have Sunset back when they need her!... with a little complaining but nothing terrible.

The MC doesn't mind much because Sunset likes him and they know he takes good care of her, but the rest of the House is slightly unnerved at how quickly he went horse crazy… What if they brought a giant crab instead?? No one wants to deal with crab-Satan...

Asmodeus 

Their body is just scrumptious. Oh, how he could look at their swimsuit-clad figure all day!! 😩

Between the swimming and the fighting, their form is toned to all hell and he can't get enough of it! Yes baby, yes!! Take those clothes off again!!! He'll help~! 😘

When he's not staring at them “totally respectfully,” then he's inviting them out to pool parties or begging them to take him riding...

There are parts of horseback riding he doesn’t like, the smell and the jostling specifically, but there is a kind of… romance to it, no?

He loves having the chance to snuggle up to the MC as they trot around the Devildom! It's so romantic, like they’re his knight in shining armor! (Or his demigod in a damp swimsuit, either works. 😏)

His Devilgram is just full of selfies of him and MC riding on the back of Sunset or sitting by the edge of the pool or them in the middle of a swim meet…

Yeah his Devilgram is now a one part him and one part MC-Appreciation account.

After the pact he'll eventually cool down some and stop staring at them like a sex-object, but even then he'll be at every swim meet. Don't you worry~

Beelzebub 

He actually really likes them! It's great to finally have another athlete in the House. 😊

The MC joined the RAD swim team just as soon the coach was able to convince Diavolo that having the child of a water god wasn't completely cheating... 

Since swim and fangol practice ends at about the same time, they walk home together a lot and complain about... sports things... (Forgive me, I don’t know sports. Uhm... Rival teams? Coaches? That one drill everyone hates? Stuff like that.)

Beel also can surf, skate, and snowboard so the two have a healthy competition going. They're about on equal footing so they tie often (except in surfing but Beel doesn't think that should count cause they’re probably cheating).

The only thing that he has to watch out for is Sunset… As in, he has to watch himself around Sunset because he absolutely could eat her on accident… 

Look, he doesn't want to and he doesn't even like horse meat that much, but even he has to admit there are times he gets hungry enough to consider it…

Of course, he knows that if he ever did Satan would rip him limb from limb then the MC would drown the rest so he really, really tries to control himself… but still… She’s a very healthy horse...

At least he didn’t try to sell her like Mammon. The MC hung him over a shark tank for that stunt… He’d feel bad, but Mammon kind of had it coming.

Belphegor 

The first time they met, the MC smelled like beach water and called him "dude-bro…" He didn't like his prospects.

For a while, he genuinely thought that they had a lump of sand where their brain was. They were just too chill!! Here he was saying that he's being held captive and they were like, "Well that sucks, man… I'll help ya, but I've got practice tomorrow. You can wait, right?"

It's not like he expected them to jump on top of it, but some urgency would have been nice…

When they eventually got around to helping him, he was actually looking forward to choking the life out of them for the extra wait. Unfortunately, they apparently had a horse…

Yeah, Belphie found out just a bit too late that the MC could summon their steed to them whenever they wanted and ended up with Sunset's hooves firmly bucking into his back for his trouble…

What followed was Belphegor running circles around the attic from the weapon-totting MC riding their terrifying murder horse until Lucifer finally intervened....

Thank the gods he wasn’t near any water….

As it would turn out later, as long as he's not being held captive in an attic Belphie kind of vibes with their laid-backness… They say they approach life "one wave at a time" or something.

He could care less about what that actually means, but what it translates to is "Stop stressing out and just keep chill" which he's all about.

Everybody should just chill out!... dude…. Nah, he'll let them stick to the “dude”-thing, it feels weird...

[moonflowerchanniesgirl]

Tightly Wound

Pairing: idol Chan x professional dom reader

Genre: honestly idk…mature, bdsm scene, dom reader, first time sub Chan, non romantic bdsm relationship, no real plot just a look at a non romantic BDSM scene. A healthy BDSM scene.

Warning: cursing, no sexual intercourse but mentions of sexual organs, BDSM, punishment (consensual), spanking, whipping, BDSM used as method to de-stress.

Summary: You were supposed to be on vacation but Sana needed your help with a friend of hers. Could you help the wound up stressed out leader of Stray Kids relax? Of course, you were a professional after all.

Word Count: 4.4k

Authors note: this is not an accurate representation of stray kids but an interpretation based on an idea that stems from them.

I don’t know, my brain goes places when sometimes I want Chan to find ways to relax… also there’s too many BDSM fics out there that focus one side of it or honestly just reads like abuse so I thought I'd put more thought into this piece. (reuploaded due to tags broken)

“Sana I’m literally here on vacation and now you’re telling me that you have work for me?” You complained as you stabbed at the shaved ice in front of you. It had been two years since you last traveled and you were prepared to just kick back, let loose and relax. That was until Sana just told you there was someone she needed your help with.

“It won’t even feel like work I promise! He just needs… a bit of help and you're the perfect one to help him,” Sana assured as she pleaded with her big eyes. You knew better than to trust those eyes though, the things you knew that she could do…

“What is his usual dom busy or something?” you asked with a raised eyebrow only to be met with Sana looking away. “Sana, what’s going on?” 

“Look, he’s not technically in the scene, I just know he needs it, right now more than ever and who better to give him his first session than you?” 

“Sana this is ridiculous, I’m not here to entertain some newbie who's going to faint at the first sign of some ropes,” you shivered and crossed your arms at the mere thought.

“He’s going to be worth your while I’m sure! Just needs you to show him the ropes,” Sana giggled at her own pun while you just rolled your eyes.

“And you’re pushing him to me instead of taking care of him yourself because?” Sana might look adorable to everyone else but you knew she could play as hard as you could. 

“Ew that would be gross, we’ve known each other too long. Besides I’m already his sunbae, it wouldn’t be as fun,” Sana wrinkled her nose at your suggestion while you perked your head up at something she mentioned.

“It’s a member of Stray Kids?” You asked and then cursed yourself as she smiled at you, knowing that you got caught showing interest.

“Not just a member, the leader of Stray Kids.”

And that was how you found yourself sitting in what was known as Chan’s Room in the JYP building room while you were supposed to be on vacation. Chan had welcomed Sana in and she dragged you along on the pretense of introducing her friend from Japan to him. As soon as you saw him you knew why she had been insistent that you needed to help him out. Everything about him screamed tensed up beyond belief. The way his jaw would unconsciously tighten every once in a while, the way he fidgeted in his seat, the way his hands would every so often clench around nothing. The telltale signs of bruises on his knuckles suggested that he boxed without gloves, mostly likely to feel some sort of contact, to feel grounded. A much less healthy way to deal with stress than what you could offer. You caught Sana’s eye as she mouthed “ told you so”. You would definitely be able to help him out if he let you. 

“So what is it that you do,” he asked you rather politely, trying to make small talk after Sana introduced your name.

You looked at Sana to ask with your eyes if she was sure this was okay and she gestured with her hands to ‘go ahead’.

“I’m a professional dominatrix,” you stated matter of factly and you saw Chan’s eyes grow wide at your statement. 

“I’m sorry what?” He asked clearly thinking that he misheard you.’ 

“A professional dominatrix,” you repeated as you anticipated how he would react.

“One of the best in Japan,” Sana chimed in as Chan glanced between the two of you with his mouth wide open.

“Oh wow,” he said as he leaned slightly back in his chair, “I was not expecting to hear you say that.”

“Why not?” You asked with a smile on your face but a slight edge in your voice. Sana clearly heard the edge as she sat up a bit straighter in her seat. 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, it’s just not not a job I’ve interacted with before,” he was quick to explain himself in case you thought that he meant it in a negative way.

“Is it a job you would like to interact with though?” You asked as you leaned a little more towards him. You clearly saw him swallow at your question.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, not quite meeting your eyes.

“Well, a little birdie told me that you’ve been stressed lately and I am reallly good at de-stressing people,” you softened your tone as you put forth the reason that you were sitting in front of him. 

Chan gasped as he turned toward Sana, “Noona?” He questioned in shock.

“Look, everyone has been complaining about how wound up you’ve been lately and I know you're under a lot of stress with the new album. She is literally the perfect person to help out with that,” Sana explained with her big innocent eyes like she didn’t just suggest that he needed a Dom to relax him.

“But I- I’m not, I don’t think sex is going to solve-”

“There will be no sexual intercourse,” you carefully cut him off. “How much do you know about sceneing and BDSM Chan,” you saw the pink in his ears at the mention of his name and you internally cooed at how cute he was going to be if this worked out.

“Um not that much, I’ve seen Fifty Shades of Grey,” you and Sana both gagged at the mention of that film.

“Nope no no do not say that name around us,” Sana cried as she rapidly shook her head.

“Ugh, I’d rather you knew nothing at all,” you said as you shivered just thinking about that cursed film.

“What’s wrong with it?” Chan asked, clearly confused at your reactions.

“That’s not a BDSM relationship,” Sana said with a pout.

“It’s just an abusive one,” you finished the thought and the both of you nodded at each other.

“He punished her for using her safe word!” Sana angrily said.

“Piece of shit not worth being called a Dom,” you grumbled.

“Wait Noona, you’re also?” Chan trailed off, not sure how to ask his question while you just laughed.

“Trust me, she would be my rival in Japan if she wasn’t so busy being an idol,” you filled him in on how hard she liked to play while Sana just blushed at your praise.

“Please I could not dare compare to your professionalism,” she praised back and you blew her a kiss. Chan again was staring at the two of you with his mouth wide open.

“Anyway we’re getting off-topic, you’re stressed and I’m currently here on vacation but I’m willing to help a friend of a friend out. The question is, would you like to be helped?” You returned to being more serious as you laid out the question. You saw the conflict flash across Chan’s face as he pondered what you asked.

“I’ll step out and let you two talk this out,” Sana suddenly stood up and said. She recognized that you wanted to turn the conversation more professional and stepped out after giving you both a hug and whispering something into Chan’s ear. 

“Look,” Chan said as he rubbed the back of his head and you caught a beautiful glance of his arm muscle in action, “I won’t say I’m not intrigued but I’m also not fully sure what, your help would… mean…” he was clearly uncomfortable but not uncurious. 

“Well my primary job would be to help you unwind and that means bringing you down into a headspace that you normally wouldn’t get to on your own. I’m trained in various methods to bring you to that space, and keep you there for however long we agreed beforehand. I can safely bring you up and then take care of you until you come back up to your normal headspace,” you explained carefully using the same explanation that you gave to other first-time sceners. People often think that BDSM was just about rough sex but as a professional, it was more complicated than that. It was a lot more than just sexual intercourse and name calling. You could tell that Chan was getting more intrigued as he took in what you were saying. 

“Various methods,” Chan repeated more to himself than to you. His face was getting more pink as he seemed to think over what you said. 

“I’m just here to offer you my help Chan, not to force you into anything contrary to what you might think BDSM is,” you leaned back in your seat now to show that the ball was in his court.

“And if I agreed, what exactly would that mean?” 

“Well, we would set some basic boundaries, discuss what you need and what you're comfortable with, and then schedule a time for your session,” you held out your hand for him to shake, “you in?” 

He hesitated for a bit before he took your hand. “Yes”.

At exactly 6:30 there was a knock on your hotel door and you opened it to reveal a very clearly nervous Chan. You led him in as you took in how extremely nice he looked in a black button-down shirt and black ripped jeans that nicely hugged his thighs. Sana had known that you wouldn’t be able to resist his physical appearance. As soon as you closed the door behind Chan he blurted out, “ I can’t do this”. 

You weren’t surprised, you knew that he probably spent so long overthinking this session that he spooked himself.  You turned to face him and told him calmly, “alright you’re welcome to leave”. You were very calm as you walked over to the mini fridge to grab the two bottles of water you stored there earlier. 

“I am?” He asked the shock clear in his voice and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Chan, I'm not keeping you, hostage, you know. If you’re not comfortable about the arrangement or you just want to go, you’re welcome to do that,” you handed him a bottle of water that he took without much thinking.

“You’re not upset that I’m backing out at the last second?” He asked and you cursed that stupid movie in your head a few more times.

“No I’m not upset and I’m not going to be upset. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a Dom that wants to own you, I’m just here to help you,” you explained with a small sigh as you patted him on the head. “If you need to go or you want to reschedule that’s perfectly fine.” In your eyes Chan looked like a scared little puppy and you treated him as gently as you could. He seemed to ponder over what you said as he opened up the water and took a sip. 

“No I actually do want to do this, I’m just, really nervous.”

“I understand, it’s not easy giving someone else control,” you and Chan had discussed the things that brought him the most stress lately and a lot of it boiled down to his need to be in control. How he spent so much of his younger life as a trainee without control that now he had a hard time giving it up. “I know we don’t know each other super well but I’m going to need you to trust me enough to let me take control. Know that I won’t endanger you and I’m here to help you,” you held out your hand again just as you did in his room when you guys worked out the details of the session.

He took your hand and brought it gently to his lips. “I trust you,” he said as he gave your hand a light kiss. 

“You ready?” You asked as you placed both the water bottles on the table.

Chan took a deep breath and said,” yes”.

You rolled your head a bit and closed your eyes for a few seconds as you got internally ready. When you opened your eyes you immediately said, “strip and kneel” to Chan as you went to sit on the bed. To his credit, he was quick to unbutton his shirt and pants but he hesitated when it came to his underwear. He glanced at you and you gave him a nod before he pulled his underwear off and knelt down on his knees from where he stood. He placed his hands out in front of him and stared at the floor just in front of his knees. 

You had to hold in the thoughts about how impressive his figure was. Beautifully sculpted muscles that you wanted to reach out and squeeze as you praised him but that would maybe come later, depending on how good he was for you. The first step as you both had agreed was that he needed to be punished.  Before even that though you needed to go over the rules. 

“While we are in the scene you will refer to me as Madam, is that clear?” You saw him nod but that was not what you wanted. “Verbal confirmation Channie,” you ordered. 

“Yes Madam,” he answered obediently and you watched his whole body slightly redden. 

“Good boy,” you see the red deepen at your praise. It was always a risk with first-timers to see what they reacted to and how well but you were ecstatic to see how Chan was reacting so far. You carefully walked over to where he was kneeling, making sure to take slow steps to see the tension in his body as he waited for you to stand in front of him. “It’s just too bad you aren’t always a good boy, isn’t that right Channie?” There was no response to your question and so you squatted down and reached your hand onto his hair to tightly grab at a bit of it, not pulling just exerting enough force to make sure he felt it. “I asked a question.”

“Yes Madam,” he answered, his voice shaking slightly. You kept your hand where it was but loosened your grip a little bit.

“Yes, Channie has been a bad boy so he’s going to get punished today, does Channie know why he’s going to get punished?” 

“Yes madam,” his voice came out much more strained and you looked down to notice that he was already fully hard. You licked your lips out of his view at how well he was taking everything. 

“Well, why is Channie getting punished?” You asked as you moved your hand away from his hair and settled on gently stroking the side of his throat. He would look amazing with a black leather collar on, you thought before you realized how far ahead of yourself you were getting. 

“Because I don’t take care of myself and I don’t ask for help when I need it so I end up overworking myself,” he stuttered out clearly uncomfortable with saying the words out loud. His reason for punishment had been something the two of you discussed beforehand when you were trying to figure out why he was so stressed. He was under a lot of pressure from the company but he also gave himself too much pressure and often overworked himself to a frightening extent. You were there to make sure he saw how bad that was.

“That’s right, you don’t take care of yourself and then end up tired and cranky and you take it out on everyone around you,” you tsked as you stood up and moved away. Chan let out a sound that sounded very much like a whimper. He still kept his eyes down in front of him but you saw that his gaze was much less steady than at the start. 

“That’s why I’m going to punish you, so you can learn from this and become a good boy.” Chan let out another whimper that sounded absolutely beautiful in your ears. You couldn’t imagine how another Dom hadn’t already scooped him up, he was a Dom’s dream. “During your punishment, you are not allowed to pleasure yourself or use me to pleasure yourself in any way. If you feel like you are going to come then you must use your pause word and we will continue when the feeling has passed. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Madam.”

“If at any point you need to use the safe word or pause word please do so and know that you will not be punished for using them. If you use the pause word we will take a moment to assess what needs to be changed and if you use the safe word we will halt everything and I will immediately begin aftercare.” You made sure you emphasized the not as you thought back to that stupid movie. “Do you remember your pause word and safe words?”

“Yellow for pause and red for stop,” Chan diligently repeated the words you had taught him.

“Good boy,” you purred out. Just because he was being punished didn’t mean that you wouldn’t praise him when he was due praise. “I’m going to spank you, and you're going to keep counting until I stop, then I’m going to whip you 8 times, one time for each hour of sleep that you should be getting.” The punishment had also been something the two of you discussed beforehand, usually, you’d like to keep it a surprise but for a first-time punishment you wanted to lay out what he needed to expect.

“I understand Madam.”

“Come here Channie,” your voice softer now that you were getting to the actual punishment. You were going to handle him a bit more delicately than your usual clients to ease him in. He stood up, legs wobbly from kneeling so long, and made his way to you. You pulled him down so that he laid across your legs. His hardon pressed into your thighs but you made no mention of it. 

You admired the plumpness of his ass for a moment before you raised your hand and hit him hard on the right cheek. The loud smack against flesh rang out in the room. Chan let out a loud yelp of surprise before he shakily said, “one”. Already his soft white flesh was turning pink at the impact of your hand. You wait a few seconds to let the anticipation build up before you slapped again at the same spot. Then you sped up and switched between the two cheeks making sure that you didn’t follow any particular rhythm that he could predict. Chan tried to hold in his voice after the first yelp but he still let out little gasps and whimpers at each hit before he called out the number. His voice had gotten shakier with each number but still, he didn’t miss a single one. You paused midway through to rub at the hot tender flesh and he let out a small hiss of discomfort.

“Hurts doesn’t it Channie?” 

“Yes, it hurts.” 

“This is what happens to bad boys,” you continued to rub and then without warning landed another slap.

“AH! 25,” Chan let out a scream and then the number as he jolted in your lap.

“Don’t move,” you said in a sterner tone and he whimpered a soft sorry. 

As you continue his counts started to slow down and his words were becoming more and more slurred together. You stopped at the 42nd slap and by then you knew he at least had dropped a little bit, not where you wanted yet but he was getting there. His breathing was more labored as he let out little gasps and each whimper sounded almost like a laugh before he said the number aloud. 

You grabbed the tiny whip that you had placed on the bed earlier when you were prepping. It was much smaller and less sturdy than what you preferred but it was the only one that you could find at such short notice. You cursed your past self for not thinking ahead to pack more toys. You had brought ropes and restraints but nothing that wouldn’t leave a mark, something he had told you would not be okay. You let the edges of the whip dangle over the bright red flesh of his ass just ghosting over the flesh. 

“Now I’m going to whip you 8 times and after each strike of the whip, you're going to apologize for not taking better care of yourself. Do you understand?”

“Yes madam,” it took him a few seconds to reply to you as if his brain needed a moment to understand your words.

You shifted to take a look at his face, the material of your jeans brushed against his hard cock and he let out a moan. You were honestly surprised at how well he was handling not coming but then again he had told you that he aimed to please. His eyes were completely glazed over and he had his mouth wide open, a wet spot of drool underneath. His cheeks were flushed red as he lightly painted. You gently brushed your hands through his sweaty head. You would frame a picture of how he looked at the moment if you could.

You whipped him once, lighter than you would normally, careful not to break the skin. His whole body shook as he choked out an “I’m sorry”. You finished the whipping quickly as you could tell he was already dropping fast. With each loud thwack, he let out a sob and an apology. With the last strike, his body went completely limp, and every inch of tension faded away. He was practically like a puddle of water in your lap. He was still muttering little “I’m sorry”s and you saw the wet spot grow larger with the tears that he gasped out. You threw the whip aside, the loud thunk made Chan jump a little and you laid down on the bed as you used your strength to pull Chan’s body so that it covered yours, carefully to not hurt his bruised ass in the transition.

“I’ve got you now Channie,” you said as you wrapped one arm around his back and another placed on the back of his head and pushed him closer to your body. “It’s okay I’ve got you, you were so good, such a good boy,” as you gently patted his head you heard his cries get louder and louder as he was wailing into your shoulder, body still limp. “Such a good boy took everything so well,” you cooed at him as you pressed a kiss against the side of his head. You continued to hold him as he cried until the tears died down and he just lay there sniffling and snuggling into your neck. “Channie I have some ointment for your ass, I’m going to go get it hmm?” You tried to shift so that he was lying on the bed instead of you but his head snapped up at your movement and there was a look of utter heartbreak in his eyes. He moved his arms to trap you under him in a tight hug.

“Channie, I’ll be right back, just gotta take care of your ass so you’ll be at least able to sit down tomorrow,” you cooed at him as you took both your hands to cup his face.

“Don’t leave, please don’t leave,” Chan cried out as he buried his head into your chest. You chuckled lightly as you rubbed your hands on his back and neck. He was such a perfect little sub, you would have loved to collar him and make him yours. But you couldn’t do that, at least not until he was back up and aware. 

“Alright Channie, I’m not going anywhere, let’s just cuddle, if you feel sleepy, go ahead and sleep, I’ve got you,” you lightly kissed the top of his head and he let out a little giggle through his tears. It didn’t take longer than five minutes for him to fall asleep, the experience clearly took a lot out of him. You shimmied your way out of his hold, using a pillow to replace yourself in his arms. You went over to your suitcase and grabbed the perfectly curated aftercare travel bag out and took out a few cotton pads as well as the cooling aloe gel. You walked back to where Chan lay and took a moment to admire your work. His ass was a mixture of reds and purples with dark angry red lines from the whip spread across. You carefully coated the soft cotton with the cool gel and began to spread it over the hot flesh. Chan groaned and shifted a bit as you tended to him but he did not awaken. You looked at how clean and white his back was and you wanted to make it up with rope marks and red lines and purple hickies but he had made clear that there were to be no visible marks. You lightly touched the small of his back and placed a light kiss there, maybe someday. 

You grabbed the duvet you had moved to the couch and spread it over Chan before you shimmied your way back under his arms. You accidentally jarred him a little too much and he opened one eye lazily to see what had disturbed him. “Shhhh it’s just me Channie, it’s okay, go back to sleep,” you gently patted his head in apology for moving him too much. He flashed you a lazy smile and tightened his grip around you before nuzzling into your neck again. You gently closed your eyes as you felt his little breaths against your neck.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Golden Thread

Prompt: since Janus is Deceit, what if it takes a physical toll on him when he only tells the truth and doesn't manipulate anyone for a period of time? could you please write a oneshot where Janus is in a position where he really needs to to tell the truth, but he can tell he's getting close to his truth limit? - anon

 Hey! I don't know if you're still taking requests for prompts (and I apologize if you aren't), but could you do Janus-centric fluffy hurt/comfort? And maybe a polyship? (If you want to, of course). - anon

Thanks for the prompts, babes! This was supposed to go up yesterday and I’m so sorry I forgot

Read on Ao3

Warnings: sympathetic remus & janus, other than that, it’s not that bad

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 5874

There is a thread that winds through Janus’s tongue.

 Thin, golden, finely spun with lies. It tastes sweet against the back of his teeth, the back of his throat. As he talks, it colors his words with a soft gleam, spinning and spinning into the air in front of him. It coils neatly around his throat as its spool and winks.

Most of the time its taste is enough to curl the corners of his mouth upwards into a smirk, watching it wind and weave its way around the others. Sometimes he thinks he can see other threads, clasping delicately around wrists, arms, knees, necks. Sometimes he can’t resist letting his threat tug them this way and that. Come on, what good is temptation if you never give in to it? He’s grown fond of the sweetness it leaves on his tongue, in his words. Saccharine as they may be, the haze they leave behind is more than enough to make up for it.

 Sometimes the sweetness is too much. He swears he can feel cavities forming in the back of his mouth. His teeth start to ache. And sometimes…sometimes he doesn’t care. It’s too much fun to keep tugging this way and that at the others, too entertaining to let the thread unspool and unspool from his throat, filling the air with its golden light. His smile sharpens and the tangle grows, because what’s the fun of it without a little risk of hurt?

 Other times he knows to back off. He adores the others, but no matter how fun they are to play with, he knows not to push too hard. At those times, he lets the sweetness spill off of his tongue, gently winds the thread back around his own throat. It always protests, the lack of sweetness making his tongue ache, the grip on his throat just a little too tight. But the looks on their faces…the begrudging gratitude, the sincere remark, or--god forbid—the poorly disguised hope…well.

 Sometimes he wonders whether or not it’d be worth it to keep the thread fully wound.

 Not that he ever would, it’s just a thought experiment.

 It’s not like he wonders what it would feel like to have Patton be able to listen to him easily, not make it a fight to get his point across. He doesn’t want to have an engaging conversation with Logan about philosophy, ethics, science, anything just to hear the brilliant man talk. He refuses to entertain the idea of being a proper source of comfort for Virgil. He wouldn’t enjoy snarking with Remus just for fun and not because he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

 And he…

 Well.

 The idea of being able to have an honest conversation with Roman makes him fill to the brim, top to toes, with hatred.

 He doesn’t have much of a choice.

 He can speak a few times with the thread coiled up, just enough when it really counts. He knows the others, he can’t just play with them all the time, he’ll get bored. And they’re not really cut out for it. And as much as he loves to see them squirm out of their comfort zones, it’s not good for Thomas. That’s his real priority.

 Janus pushes open the door to his room and sighs, taking his hat off and hanging it carefully up on its stand. He summons his cane and makes it the rest of the way to the desk, plopping himself into the chair and scrubbing his hand through his hair.

 “They’re so slow,” he mutters as his fingers go to the clasp around his throat, “how do they ever get anything done?”

 Well…they don’t. Not really.

 Don’t get him wrong, he loves being the one to tug and twist them into the right answer, but he doesn’t want to be there all the time. They do know what they’re doing, they’re all good at their jobs, so…trying to manage all of that is exhausting.

 The clasp at his throat falls away and he lifts his hand, craning his neck above his collar. There.

 He knows the thread isn’t real; nothing here is real. Nothing of him can ever be real. But he can still feel it sometimes. Like today.

 They’d been…talking. It wasn’t an overdue conversation, not in the slightest, and he’s had to be honest with them. Doesn’t mean he has to be honest with himself.

 And isn’t that just his saving grace?

 Janus winces as he feels the thread wind tighter and tighter around his tongue, pulling his gloves off to touch his throat, just to confirm that it’s not real. His fingers meet his scales and he sighs, missing the sweetness. It won’t be for long. This will blow over and tomorrow they’ll be back to everyone’s favorite regularly scheduled programming. He’ll make Patton blink in that adorably-confused way, Logan will be pinching the bridge of his nose trying to make everyone shut up and pay attention to Janus’s lies, Virgil will be hissing at him like a demented cat, Remus will be having the time of his life, and Roman won’t want anything to do with him.

 Janus breathes a sigh of relief as sweetness starts to coat his tongue again.

See? It’s already working.

 It doesn’t keep working, but you know.

 The effort was there.

 They’re talking again.

 The living room feels dry. Has it always been this dry? Disguising it as a roll of his eyes, Janus tilts his head toward the ceiling. Huh. He’s never noticed that light there before. Has it always been there? Probably.

 “Janus,” Patton calls, “can you—um—“

 Rolling his eyes again, he looks back down, crossing one leg over the other. He hides the lack of sweetness by pursing his lips.

 “Yes?”

 “Did you hear what I asked?”

 “Of course I did,” he drawls, idly flicking the tips of his gloves together.

 “…so what do you think?”

  Honestly.

 “He didn’t hear you,” Logan says quietly, and thank god the other brain cell has joined the chat.

 Patton frowns. “Then why—never mind.”

  Oh, Patton.

 “I asked if you knew how to help,” Patton says, his hands clutched in his lap, “with the barrier breaking down. It’s been kind of rough from our side so…”

 Right.

 There hadn’t been a barrier up until a few years ago. Something had formed in the Mindscape, an invisible wall. It wasn’t real, of course, but it made walking through the hallways unnecessarily difficult. One of them would try to walk from one side to the other and be suddenly seized with a compulsion to do anything but. Or they’d be accompanying another Side back to the room only to freeze in the middle of the corridor and have to mutter out apologies. It’s exhausting. Luckily they’d still been able to sink in and out to get from place to place, but it’s not like the barrier actually does anything.

 Janus sighs and uncrosses his legs. The thread leaps to the tip of his tongue, eager, poised.

 “I don’t know,” he says instead, feeling the sweetness recede in disappointment, “I don’t know enough about how it formed in the first place.”

 “It happened around the time of the series premiering,” Logan says thoughtfully, “perhaps it could be linked with the presentation of the Mindscape in the fanbase?”

 Virgil snorts. “Like any of that is accurate.”

 “You don’t know that, Virgil.”

 “Um, excuse me, which of us spends the most time on Tumblr?”

 “What does that have to do with anything?”

 “Where do you think most of the fanbase hangs out? ‘Cause it sure as hell ain’t Facebook.”

 “That’s a shame,” Patton sighs, “I miss it.”

 “You miss Facebook?”

 “You know it does still exist, right?”

 “Did Thomas ever even have Facebook?”

 “The color palettes were nice!”

 “You mean they were blue.”

 “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

 “…the point being I know a lot about what the fans do with the content we give them and most of that stuff is entirely made-up.”

 Logan raises an eyebrow. “As opposed to the made-up that the series is.”

 “Shut up, L.”

 “I’d rather not, actually.”

 Virgil swats Logan’s shoulder half-heartedly.

 Janus is smiling. Why is he smiling? He hasn’t lied enough for the sweetness to make him smile and it’s not like Remus has appeared with feet coming out of his head again. In fact, Remus is just…sitting next to Roman. Granted, he’s got his morning star in his lap dripping with god knows what, but there are no crazy shenanigans happening.

 He watches Logan reach out and tangle his fingers with Virgil’s as Patton starts talking again. He watches Virgil nudge Remus’s tape back over to him when he drops it halfway through rewrapping the grip on his morning star. He watches Roman cover a flinch that he’d never have noticed if he wasn’t paying attention and sees Remus take hold of Roman’s costume and grip it tight in his fist.

 The thread twitches angrily on his tongue as he tries to make sense of what’s happening.

 “Has anything happened,” Roman asks as Patton pauses, “on your side?”

 Virgil shrugs. “I haven’t noticed anything. But I normally sink straight to my room, so…”

 “Remus?”

 “You do realize that most of the thoughts that come into my head are the type that you guys would ignore anyway, right?”

 Roman rolls his eyes too, but it’s fond. Affectionate. Janus is not.

 “…Janus? What about you?”

 The thread begins to sew neat little words into his tongue, all prepared for him to say. Yes, he’s noticed something, he’s noticed that the others are so much less fun than they used to be. No, he hasn’t noticed anything, it’s not like he’s the observant one.

 Yes, he’s noticed that the barrier is fading and he hates it.

 No, he hasn’t noticed anything because he spends as little time with the others as possible.

 “I don’t know.”

 Patton nods. “That’s okay, just…maybe try keeping an eye out? See if anything changes?”

 “I will.”

 The thread takes longer to undo that night.

 Janus slumps onto his elbows and groans.

 When did he become addicted to the sweetness? When did it get so hard for him to realize when he’s the one telling the lies and when the thread is telling the lies? When did he stop caring about the words coming out of his mouth?

 The truth is, of course, that he didn’t.

 He started caring more about the others.

 The thread tightens in warning but Janus pushes it aside. He frowns, staring hard at the grooves in the desk. He started to care about them, not just as parts of Thomas’s personality that would help him do things, but as their own Sides. As them.

 He cares about how Logan’s eyes light up just a little when he starts talking about something. He cares about how warm Patton speaks when they’re all there. He cares about how bouncy Remus gets when they talk to him. He cares about when Virgil’s eyeshadow turns all purple and sparkly. He cares about how hard it’s become to genuinely make Roman smile.

 The thread groans.

 Janus curses.

 He can’t.

 “The others aren’t important,” he hisses at the mirror, “Thomas is the only important one.”

 The thread pauses.

 “I don’t care what they want,” he continues, feeling it slowly start to unwind, “it only matters that Thomas is safe. That Thomas knows what’s going on.”

 It starts to run back out along his tongue.

 “Their thoughts and feelings aren’t important.” His hands ball into fists. “I don’t care about them.”

 His tongue starts to taste sweet again.

 “I don’t care about them,” he repeats in a whisper, “they aren’t important to me.”

 The salt of the tears goes perfectly with the sweetness on his tongue.

————————————————

Something is wrong.

 Something is horribly, desperately wrong and the others are panicking.

 The barrier is gone. That’s not the bad thing. The bad thing is that along with it, everything in the Mindscape is rushing out of control.

 The walls won’t hold. The doors lock and unlock more often than they stay in place. Floors disappear out of nowhere and open up into yawning black pits. The doors to the Imagination buckle and groan under the onslaught of rushing beasts from the other side. Something is fading.

 They can’t sink out anymore. They need to know where everything is in order to do that. The place is a labyrinth. Only one entrance, one exit. There’s no way that they’ll know the right path unless they run it themselves.

 Janus knows something is broken the instant his eyes open. He can feel it. Cracks wind their way through the walls, through the floor, the ceiling shakes. He’s out of his room in an instant, running through the halls, somewhere, anywhere, are they alright? Where are they? Have they faded?

 “Virgil!”

 “Janus?” Virgil flies into him at breakneck speed, clutching his cape in both hands. “Are you—what’s happening? Where is everyone? Did something go wrong? What’s happening to Thomas?”

 The thread perks its end up eagerly but Janus swallows it down.

 “I don’t know what’s happening,” he says quickly, pulling Virgil closer, “and you’re the first one I’ve seen.”

 “I can’t find anyone,” Virgil pants, “I can’t—there’s no one—we’re going to fade.”

 “We won’t, I promise. We just have to find the others.”

 “Hello?” Another voice calls out from around the corner. “Hello, where the fuck is everyone? Who decided to break shit without me?”

 “Remus!”

 “That’s me, where the fuck—“ Remus barrels around the corner, almost knocking them over— “Virgil! Snake Face!”

 “Remus—“ Virgil wraps Remus in his arms, clutching him tightly. “Where were you? What’s going on?”

 “I was draining the viscera from a partially dissected sperm whale—“ of course he was— “but then everything started shaking.”

 “We can’t find the others.”

 “Then what the fuck are we waiting for?”

 They don’t even look back; Remus grabs Janus’s sleeve and Virgil still hasn’t let go of his cape, dragging him behind as they race through the halls. They can see where the barrier used to be, though with how much the place has shifted, it’s impossible to tell. Janus grits his teeth as they prepare themselves to smash through.

 Nothing happens.

 They just keep barreling down the corridor.

 “Patton! Logan! Roman!”

 “Where the fuck are you guys?”

 “Can you hear us?”

 “Re? Re, is that you?”

 “Ro!”

Remus reroutes them effortlessly, barreling through chunks of disappearing floor and leaping over cracks forming in the tiles. Virgil hangs onto Janus as they go. Janus can’t let go of either of them.

 “In here!”

 A blade flashes through a crumbling chunk of wall and a hand reaches out. Remus grabs it and vaults through the opening.

“Oh my goodness, Virgil!”

 “Pat—“

 Another hand helps to haul him through the crack. The hand he has in his cape pulls uncomfortably at Janus’s neck.

 “Where’s Janus? Did you guys see him?”

 “Yeah, he’s right here, Ja—���

 “Snake Face, get your butt in here.”

 “Don’t just stand there, help you idiots!”

 A sickening crack right above him makes him jerk his head up. His eyes widen as a massive chunk of ceiling starts to fall. Hands wrap around his arms, his clothes, even his waist and pull.

 “Janus?” He blinks through the dust to see Logan staring at him, concern written plainly all over his face. “Are you alright?”

 No, the thread sews, I am now trapped with the five people I abhor most in this world. I am the furthest from alright I could possibly be.

 “Are you all alright,” he asks instead, lifting his hand to fix Logan’s collar, “I’m not hurt.”

 “We’re fine,” Roman says, helping him to his feet, “we managed to get in here before the place really started coming down.”

 “What’s going on?”

 Patton’s shoulders slump at Virgil’s question. “We were hoping you would know.”

 Janus bites back a curse, turning to look at the opening. It’s blocked now, completely choked in dust. He glances around.

 “Where are we?”

 “Safe room,” Roman says, tapping the wall, “something Remy helped us come up with.”

 “Remy?”

 “He’s a bitch but he knows what he’s doing.”

 “Fair enough.” Janus grits his teeth. “So what do we know?”

 “Who was awake when it happened,” Logan asks, “Roman and I were not.”

 “I was also not awake,” Virgil mutters, “and I would really appreciate this not being how I wake up ever again.”

 “I agree.” Janus glances at Patton and Remus. “I was asleep too. Remus, you said you were awake?”

 “I was in the middle of an experiment!”

 Logan perks up. “An experiment?”

 “As much as I love watching you two be nerds together,” Roman breaks in, “can we do that later?”

 “Of course.”

 “Spoilsport,” Remus says fondly, “but it wasn’t me. I’ve done this experiment before, nothing I do could do…this.”

 All eyes turn to Patton.

 “…Padre?”

 Patton shakes his head. “I…I don’t know. I had just gotten up to get a glass of water when it shattered in my hand.”

 “It did what?”

 “Are you hurt?”

 “Let me see.”

 “No, no, guys I’m fine,” Patton says quickly, holding up his hands, “but then the whole house started to shake. I don’t—I don’t know what’s going on.”

 Janus’s heart sinks. He’s telling the truth.

 They’re stuck.

 “Oh, god,” Virgil mutters, his hands flying to his head, “oh god, oh my god, no one knows what’s going on.”

 “V,” Logan murmurs, crouching down and reaching to take his hands, “Virgil, look at me.”

 “We’re going to mess everything up—it’s going to be so bad—what’s happing to Thomas?”

 “Virgil, look at me, come now, it’s going to be alright—“

 “How can you promise that?” Virgil’s voice starts to rise. “Have you seen what’s happening?”

 “Easy, shadow-ling,” Roman murmurs too, his hand carding through Virgil’s hair, “just listen to Logan.”

 “You’re doing well,” Logan encourages, rubbing Virgil’s arms, “just stay here, with me, alright?”

 Janus watches Patton and Remus stand a little closer to the three of them, shielding them from the debris still raining down from outside. Something in his gut clenches.

 Then he notices the tremors are slowing as the other calm Virgil down.

 And it clenches more.

 “It’s us,” he mutters quietly, almost too quietly for the others to hear, “it’s us. We have to stick together.”

 The thread on his tongue twitches angrily. There’s almost no sweetness left in his mouth now.

 Patton looks over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

 “Look—“ Janus points at a crack in the wall— “they’re moving slower now. The closer we are together the less this place falls apart.”

 Virgil’s next inhale is almost a sob.

 “I really do just ruin everything, don’t I?”

 “No,” Roman says firmly, wrapping his arms tightly around the shaking Side, “we’ve had this conversation, shadow-ling. You’re important to us. You’re not a burden. And this certainly isn’t your fault.”

 “We need you,” Patton echoes, reaching down to rest his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “don’t go anywhere.”

 “Don’t make us chase you.” Remus bonks his head into Virgil’s. “Not fun.”

 Virgil still looks doubtful. Which, alright, isn’t his fault. Voices in the head, not to mention the general anxiety, it’s no surprise, not really. Janus clears his throat.

 “Virgil,” he says softly, crouching down as well, “Virgil, listen to me.”

 Purple eyes stare at him.

 “You haven’t lost us,” he promises, “you won’t lose us. You’re important, not just for Thomas, but for us too. We care about you. All of you.”

 “Fuck, J,” Virgil huffs, swiping at his face, “why’d you have to make me cry?”

 The tremors keep settling.

 Patton throws his arms around Virgil. “See? We care about you, kiddo. We love you.”

 Something else twitches in Janus’s throat as he hears Patton say that. Virgil must notice it too; he looks up and squints at Patton.

 “Have we ever told you that we care about you?”

  Bingo.

 Patton falters, his grip wavering. His smile wobbles. “W-well, no, not really, but that’s okay! I know you do.”

 Logan tilts his head. “But you enjoy hearing it said.”

 The smile slips even further. “…you don’t like saying it.”

 “That’s no excuse!” Roman reaches over Virgil to get to Patton. “If you want us to say it, we can say it!”

 Janus shifts his attention. “Patton?”

 “…yeah?”

 “No one takes care of us like you do,” he says softly, “and none of us care as openly as you do.”

 Patton’s eyes widen. “Janus—“

 “You try,” he continues, not to be interrupted, not now, “and that is perhaps the most admirable thing we could ask for.”

 “He made Pat cry too,” Virgil mutters, pulling the now-sobbing side in for a hug.

 “Happy tears,” Patton manages, “I—wow.”

 A crack in the wall disappears.

 “Is that what this is?” Logan looks around. “An…emotional problem?”

 “We’re fading, the whole Mindscape is,” Janus says around the thread, “if we—if we stay, then we can fix this.”

 “O-oh.”

 That tone of voice always leads somewhere good. Sure enough, as he looks around, he sees Logan adjust his glasses and take a step back.

 “And where are you going?”

 “I’m not sure I can help,” Logan says flatly. “You have the answer already.”

 “But we’re not done.”

 “And what do you expect I can lend to this problem?” He spreads his arms wide. “I’m no expert on emotions, nor am I useful in proving things that are already true.”

 “Wait, what the fuck are you talking about, L?” Virgil scrambles up. “What are we proving here?”

 “That you are important.” Logan frowns as Patton and Roman scramble up too. “What?”

 “You’re implying that you’re not important,” Remus growls, “and I’m pissed about it.”

 “But—“

 “No buts!” Roman points a stern finger at him. “Believing yourself to be unimportant is a falsehood!”

 “I never said I was unimportant,” Logan corrects, “I said I would not be helpful in this situation.”

 “Bullshit. You helped me calm down.”

 “So did Patton and Roman.”

 “You figured out that I like being told that you guys care about me!”

 “That was obvious.”

 “Logan,” Janus calls softly to get his attention, “Logan, if you believe that anyone knows us better than you, you are gravely mistaken.”

 Logan’s mouth drops open.

 “You claim not to know emotions,” he continues, stepping closer, “but you know us, perhaps better than we know ourselves at times. You are kind, you are wonderful, and if you ever stop teaching us things, I am sure we would never recover.”

 He slips Logan’s glasses back into position.

 “You are not just Logic,” he murmurs, “you’re Logan. Stay. Be Logan.”

 Logan swallows heavily.

 “I must ask,” he says hoarsely as a tear rolls down his cheek, “if you intend to make everyone cry today.”

 Janus chuckles. “No, I don’t, but it seems that it may be a side effect. I promise I’m not trying.”

 “You won’t make me cry,” Remus remarks casually, “not without trying. I don’t care.”

 Oh, Remus. Janus doesn’t bother to hide his smile at the indignant squawk from Virgil as Remus implies that he doesn’t care about the others.

 “I don’t need to try to make you cry,” he says, “I’ve never wanted that. I just want you to be listened to.”

 “…fuck you, Snakey.”

 Patton lunges forward as Remus sniffles.

 “Do we just like…not talk to each other, then?” Virgil wipes his nose. “Because I sure as hell don’t remember us getting this emotional about anything.”

 Then Janus realizes that his mouth tastes bitter.

 The thread has not been idle, he realizes in horror, not while he’s been spilling his guts to the others in an effort to hold them all together. It’s dragged itself over his tongue, scraping every last bit down his throat, winding tighter and tighter. His mouth tastes bitter. It’s not supposed to be bitter. It burns, scraping along the sides of his mouth until they smart. He swallows frantically. It’s not working. Nothing is working. It hurts. His tongue hurts. His throat hurts.

 The floor wobbles.

 He can’t catch his breath.

 His eyes land on Roman.

 No.

  No.

 No, no, no, he can’t stop now.

 Not here.

 Not with Roman.

 Roman just watches the others wrap their arms tightly around his brother still wiping snot from his nose. A soft smile curls at his mouth that never reaches his eyes. Behind him, massive cracks open up in the walls.

 No.

 He can’t let Roman fall.

 Not after everything.

 Roman notices he’s staring at him. He just raises an eyebrow.

 “Going to make me cry again,” he asks softly, “or are you all finished for the day?”

 The thread stabs words into his tongue until he can taste blood.

  Well, it’s not like it’s difficult to make you cry.

  If I had something that would work, I’d say it.

  Only if you were a Side worth worrying about.

 No.

 No, no, he won’t say that. He won’t.

 The thread tightens around his throat as a harsher warning. The bitterness on his tongue worsens.

 “It’s alright, Janus—“ no, it isn’t— “I know you don’t like me much anyway. Don’t force yourself.”

  At least you’re being considerate for once in your life.

  Took you this long to figure it out, hmm? No wonder you’re called the stupidest Side.

 Janus grits his teeth against the thread. It just keeps tightening. His mouth has never tasted sweet in his entire life.

 He needs to tell Roman how important he is. He needs to tell Roman that they all have to start paying attention to him. He needs Roman to know that he’s sorry, sorry he ever implied otherwise.

 All that comes out of his mouth instead is: “you need attention.”

 Roman blinks. “Well, yes, I’d say that’s true.”

 He has to tell Roman that Thomas needs him, needs him to be strong and healthy, to dream.

 What comes out instead is: “you spend so much time stuck in your head.”

 Roman frowns. “If that’s the best you can do, there’s no need to overexert yourself. I can make myself cry much easier than that.”

 Why won’t his tongue cooperate?

 The thread just tightens around him again. A warning. A threat. A promise.

 He can’t tell the truth.

 He can’t.

 He can’t.

 It doesn’t matter. Roman won’t know how important he is. He’ll think that Janus hates him and that’s fine.

 Janus struggles to breathe.

 “There are two Creativities,” he grits out, even if the ‘but only one Roman’ won’t follow.

 “Patton is the heart,” comes out next, separate from ‘but he needs you to love.’

 “We don’t need you,” hurts on the way out because it leaves behind ‘but we want you, we want you so badly.’

 The Mindscape is crumbling. Janus can’t speak. The others are going to fade. He can’t help Roman. He’s ruined everything.

 He’s forgotten what sweetness tastes like.

 Roman is frowning at him. He stands, striding across the broken floor, eyes flint chips. Janus closes his eyes and braces for the hit.

 Roman’s fingers hook into his collar and yank.

 “What the fuck is that?”

 “Why is it cutting into him?”

 “How long has that been there, this whole time?”

 “Janus—Janus can you breathe?”

 What?

 Janus opens his eyes in confusion. Roman’s still holding onto him but his eyes are fixed not on his face, but lower. Something shiny casts light onto Roman’s face.

 “Janus,” Roman asks softly, “what is this?”

 “What is what?”

 “This,” Roman says darkly, fingertips tracing across something, “around your neck.”

 No.

 No, it’s not real.

 It can’t be real.

 …can it?

 “It’s not a thread,” Janus spits out, his tongue smarting in the air, “and it doesn’t keep me from telling the truth.”

 Roman’s eyes widen in horror. He reaches forward and Janus keens as the pressure tightens.

 “Don’t stop,” he grits out, “it doesn’t hurt.”

 “The sky is green.”

 “What?”

 “The sky is green,” Roman repeats, still glaring hard at Janus’s neck, “the Fourth of July is in October.”

 The thread loosens.

 “Remus, get over here,” Roman barks. A second later, two more fingers slip under the thread. “Now lie.”

 “Um, ventricles are found in the liver.”

 “Blue is made of red and orange.”

 “The alphabet starts with the letter ‘m.’”

 Logan catches on next. “The sun goes around the earth,” he says, nudging Virgil.

 “Uh—“ he glances around— “Patton isn’t wearing glasses.”

 “Paris is in Canada.”

 “Books are printed on alligator skin.”

 “Water isn’t clear.”

 “Mark Zuckerberg isn’t the inventor of Facebook.”

 “Earmuffs go on your hands.”

 “Hamburgers are vegan.”

 Lies spin out of their mouths. Remus grits his teeth as he pulls at the thread. Patton looks around frantically. Janus still can’t breathe.

 The room is settling, slowly but surely, but there are still cracks snaking their way through the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Right under Janus.

 Roman looks directly at him.

 “I hate you.”

 The thread gives.

 The brothers yank, unspooling the thread from around Janus’s throat, throwing it at the walls. It freezes in mid-air, still glowing gold.

 The cracks weren’t cracks, they were threads.

 The golden thread melts seamlessly into the wall, knitting the place back together, stitch by stitch. The walls settle, glowing softly as the floor reconstitutes under them. The Mindscape breathes.

 Janus hasn’t noticed any of this. He’s too busy collapsing into Roman’s arms, sobbing his heart out.

 “Shh, shh, sweetheart,” Roman coos, “I’ve got you, you’re alright, you did it, come here…”

 “He’s gonna be cold,” he hears someone—probably Virgil?—say over his shoulder, “grab a blanket. Can we sink?”

 “Let me try.” A second later there’s another sigh of relief. “Yeah. We can. Let’s get him to the living room, I’ll get a fire going.”

 “In the fireplace, this time, Remus!”

 “Yeah, yeah!”

 “Come on, little snake,” Roman coaxes, lifting him up to a broad chest, “let’s get you warm.”

 He’s still sobbing breathlessly, draped uselessly over Roman. He feels another set of arms as they sink into the couch.

 “I’ve got him,” Patton says quietly, “hey, kiddo, can you hear me?”

 The next sob is slightly higher.

 “Shh, shh, it’s okay, kiddo, you don’t have to speak right now.” Patton rubs soothing circles into his back. “Just stay right here with me, right here, the others are just getting the nest set up.”

 N-nest?

 “Give him to me, I’ll help him down while you slide in.”

 “Make sure to get his head, he’s having trouble right now.”

 “I understand.”

 A warm hand cups the back of his neck, leaning his nose into the crook of a warm shoulder. Books, coffee, whiteboard pen…Logan.

 “You’re freezing,” Logan murmurs, concerned, “let’s get you warmed up…no hyperthermia today, hmm?”

 Janus almost groans in relief as his scales hit something thick and soft and warm. He’s still crying, isn’t he? Why?

 “Hey, Snakey,” Remus mumbles, his hand under Janus’s head, “you gotta roll over, you’re gonna crush yourself that way. Come on—for crying out loud, you bastards, how long does it take to undo a clasp?”

 “Got it.”

 He suppresses a whine as his cape flies away, only for it quickly be replaced by a warm, warm blanket. He blinks his eyes open, straining to see through the tears. He can only see blobs. What is happening?

 “Rest,” comes another voice, is that Roman? Isn’t Roman angry at him? He can’t stop the confused whine.

 “Shh, shh, easy, little snake,” Roman soothes, running his hand through his hair, “breathe, that horrible thing was choking you.”

 The horrible thread…is it…gone?

 “Relax, come on, shh…easy,” he says earnestly when Janus whines again, “don’t work yourself up.”

 “He’s gonna hurt himself if he keeps clawing at his throat like that.”

 He’s doing what now?

 Warm hands take each of his and…oh. Well, maybe he was.

 “That’s it,” Patton whispers, “easy…”

 “What…what’s going on?”

 “You did it,” Logan says softly, stroking his thumb along the back of Janus’s hand, “you figured it out.”

 “But—“ he swallows, still not used to the freedom in his throat— “I couldn’t do it.”

 “You weren’t supposed to do it on your own, Jan-Jan. We all had to do it, remember?”

 “That’s what you said, J.”

 “So we did,” Patton finishes, smiling at him, “and it worked.”

 “But—but I—“ Janus’s eyes flash up to catch Roman’s.

 Roman, who sat there and didn’t protest when Janus couldn’t say one nice thing about him.

 Roman, whom Janus has hurt so many times.

 Roman, who pried the thread away from Janus’s throat without blinking.

 Roman, who caught him, and is still here.

 “Maybe the next time we talk,” Roman says softly, “we can do it without that thread around your throat, hmm?”

 “I’m sorry.”

 “Shh, little snake,” he murmurs, gently stroking a tear away from Janus’s cheek, “I know. But not right now, okay? You’re still crying.”

 He is?

 Oh.

 “Close your eyes,” he encourages, his hand still cupping Janus’s face, “rest, we all need it.”

 “Did we—“ his tongue is heavy— “did we ever figure out what happened?”

 “I believe Thomas had something of an identity crisis,” Logan remarks, “but we can figure that out later. For now…we should all try and go back to sleep.”

 “Great. Pop Star, budge.”

 “Hey! Kiddo!”

 “Ah. Much better.”

 “Pocket Protector, stop pretending you don’t wanna cuddle and get down here.”

 “In a moment, Remus, I need to take my glasses off.”

 “Ro-Bro! Get over here.”

 “Re, pulling me over Janus is not going to work.”

 “L, are you coming?”

 “Must you all be so impatient?”

 “Yes, my dear darling nerd, now come here.”

 Logan rolls his eyes and lies down, still holding Janus’s hand. On his other side, Roman leans Janus’s head into his chest and hums softly.

 “There. Now we’re all together again.”

 “Shut the fuck up, Princey, I’m trying to sleep.”

 “Shut up yourself, then.”

 “Kiddos.”

 “Sorry, Pat.”

 Logan chuckles. Remus shifts on the edge of the blanket nest. Roman tilts Janus’s chin up.

 “Are you alright,” he whispers as the others drift off to sleep, “not hurt?”

 Janus shakes his head. “I…was it really a lie?”

 “Was what really a lie, little snake?”

 “…you said ‘I hate you.’”

 “Oh, that.” Roman chucks him lightly under the chin. “What does your mouth taste like?”

 …sweet.

 It’s sweet.

 Oh.

  Oh.

 Roman smiles. “Go to sleep, little snake.”

 The Sides fall asleep in the Mindscape, threads wearing them tightly together.

Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness  @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes  @iminyourfandom  @bullet-tothefeels  @full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @demoniccheese83  @pattonsandershugs @princeanxious  @firefinch-ember  @fandomssaremysoul  @im-an-anxious-wreck  @crazy-multifandomfangirl  @punk-academian-witch  @enby-ralsei  @unicornssunflowersandstuff  @wildhorsewolf @stubbornness-and-spite  @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme  @angels-and-dreams  @averykedavra  @a-ghostlight-for-roman  @cricketanne  @aularei @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer  @i-am-overly-complicated   @alias290  @tranquil-space-ninja  @arxticandy  @whyiask @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @snowyfires @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx

I’ve been trying to debug the taglist recently, so I’ve taken off some URLs that don’t seem to be working anymore. If that happens to be yours and you want back on, let me know!

[thefanficmonster]

Phone Call Anxiety

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When wanting to make quality merch, one needs a quality team there to produce and work on quality ideas. Great minds think alike. Great eyes see alike and great hands make alike - the three keys to the formula of creating a clothing line that will be fashionable and up to his brand. Luckily, Corpse knows just who to call.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your wonderful request, I absolutely loved the idea! Sorry you’ve had to wait for it to be turned into a fic for so long, but I still hope you come across it and give it a read in which case I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

He’s not a fan of phone calls. Anyone who knows him even remotely is very well informed on Corpse’s distaste for phone calls and upholding a conversation over the phone. He’d even go as far as to say talking to a person face to face is less stressful for him than that previous option.

But still, seeing as how the person he’s trying to reach lives in a different state and is rather busy all the time, arranging an IRL meeting is basically impossible at the moment, and sending her a text results in running the risk of having the text overlooked or completely lost in the sea of notifications she probably gets on the daily.

Therefore, a phone call was his only proper way of reaching her. And it’s what’s got him pacing the room with his nervousness peaking.  He doesn’t know anything about this girl, nothing concrete at least. He was referred to her by Jack who brought her up in their passing conversation when Corpse mentioned how paranoid he was regarding his upcoming merch project. He specifically stated he doesn’t want anything basic and he wants the clothes to be fashionable, suitable for anyone no matter the age or gender and to be endurable. With all the love he has for his fans, he doesn’t want to give them anything less than what they deserve - the best.

“My friend’s the person you’re looking for.“ Jack said enthusiastically and confidently, “She helped me design the latest merch line I put out and I’ve never been more satisfied with my own merch. I’m planning on offering her a position in Cloak for her birthday. Make sure not to let that one slip out if you give her a call though.“ He warned half-jokingly. 

Bottom line, with that kind of intro, Corpse couldn’t help but let his interest be piqued. And so, he asked for this girl - Y/N’s contact info from Jack before he went to surf through her social media where she thankfully posted plenty of pictures of her creations, never failing to mention specifications in the caption of each picture so the viewers would get the perfect and most detailed idea of how high the standard for her work is.

And so he’s finally managed to talk himself into dialing her number that’s been sitting in his phone for weeks now. As he paces his living room, his nerves chewing him out like a dog would with a toy, listening to the ear piercing ring of the dial waiting to get picked up by the girl he’s trying to reach. 

Just then, Corpse’s head turns so that his eyes meet the glowing red numbers on his digital clock on his desk and he damn near hangs up the call right away - it’s half an hour past midnight. Fast as lightning, he removes the phone from his ear, his thumb flying over to press the red ‘end call’ button. Just then, a faint ‘hello’ reaches his ears, coming from the phone’s speaker. She’s answered the call.

He hurries to put the phone back up to his ear.

“Hey, sorry for taking so long to pick up, I ought to clean my desk eventually cause my phone was literally BURIED under a pile of papers.“ A cheerful sing-song voice rattles his stale and sleep deprived consciousness, as if awakening him from a half-dream state. “You’re either a wrong number caller or a last minute client, aren’t you? Need something done urgently?“

Corpse is taken the hell aback by her strong and downright awing first impression. Not to mention her energy at an hour unsuitable for calls. Lord knows he wouldn’t have picked up if her were in her spot. With the intention of not wasting any more of her time than necessary, he hurries to explain his situation. “Y/N, right? Um no, I’m neither actually. I was told about you by a friend, he said you were a real miracle-doer with fashion design.” He trails off for a second, not completely sure of how to hold this conversation, “Uh, sorry for the odd timed call, I lost track of time. I’ve been meaning to call you for hours now but I...I was nervous.” He cringes the second the word leaves his lips, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he wants to leave her with a great, better than realistic impression of himself but he does and as of now he deems his attempts as ultimate failures.

He hears her giggle from her end, rifling through what sounds to be papers, “Yeah, I’m her. And boy is it refreshing to get someone who’s calling with an actual purpose.” She sighs as if a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders, “And don’t worry about the phone call anxiety. Makes two of us, to be honest.”

This catches him off-guard. The last thing he’d expect is for this girl to have phone call anxiety. In fact, she appears to be a natural, God-given talent at carrying conversations and upholding chit-chat with people. Maybe he’s a little too quick to judge - probably, considering he’s ‘known’ her for less than five minutes and knows nothing but her occupation, her name and the state she lives in - but that bubbly persona she greeted him with gave off the impression that it’s immune to any and all kinds of social anxiety - or anxiety in general. To hear such an honest and counter-to-assumptions confession on her part rattles him a tiny bit. In a good way though.

“How does that work for you? Isn’t your whole job depending on your phone conversational skills?“ He doesn’t mind that he didn’t phrase that too perfectly or that he straight up blurted it out. He knows he’ll be understood. She’s obviously a person who understands. Not just something specific, but everything. She simply understands. How he drew this conclusion and how accurate it is, he may not know until further notice.

“Well...“ she sighs as if genuinely looking to give him a proper answer, “You see, after doing it for so long and having been caught off guard quite a few times with some absolutely absurd orders, I’ve grown prepared of literally ANYTHING and I have a line prepared for anything the caller has to say. I just no longer let them catch me off guard and it’s fine. Helps avoid any possible awkward silences.“

Corpse’s eyebrows shoot up, her explanation only raising more questions rather than providing answers. But he’s not gonna be the annoying dumbass asking those questions at close to 1AM and bugging her. After all, if she agrees to this partnership, they’ll be hearing and potentially seeing a lot more of each other soon. “Impressive, honestly. You’re gonna need to teach me sometime.“ He’s unaware he’s smiling until he catches his reflection in the window. However, he doesn’t bother hiding it. This conversation is actually making him feel good, serving as a reminder that he’s not the only one who periodically goes through turmoil over small things. 

She giggles again, this time the sound manages to draw a blush out of him, coating his cheeks, “I’d typically stray for revealing my secrets to professional success, but I’m willing to make an exception for you...” she pauses for a second as though she’s just now remembered something, “Oh shoot, I don’t even know your name.”

He wheezes out a nervous laugh, realizing he never introduced him, “Oh yeah, sorry, that’s my bad. My name’s Corpse, nice to meet ya.”

“Nice to meet you too, Corpse.“ Y/N replies, sounding pleased but teasing simultaneously, “Now tell me, you didn’t call me about my phone call secrets, did you? What may be the real purpose of your call?“

Oh shoot, he himself almost forgot what he was calling for. Luckily, the reference designs displayed on his computer screen remind him. “Right, well, I’ve been thinking of launching a new merch line either this month or the next, depending on how long the procedure will take, and I needed someone great on my team to make some merch actually worth the money people are paying for it. And, as I said, I was told you were in that ‘someone great’ category.”

“Told by who, if you don’t mind me asking?“ She briefly cuts him off, her voice now giving away the fact that she’s half-absent-minded in this conversation, added evidence be the ruffling of more papers on her end.

“Jack. I mean, Sean. You know, Jacksepticeye.“ Corpse explains, contemplating whether he should’ve ratted Jack out like that. Hearing the sound of delight Y/N lets out eases his worries ASAP though.

“Oh Gosh, I haven’t seen that cutie in so long! He’s like a brother to me so a friend of Jack’s is a friend of min-“ this time she cuts herself off so abruptly Corpse thought the line was cut or she hung up on him. She doesn’t let him wonder for long though, “Wait, wait, wait....Merch? And you’re friends with Jack?“ She pauses for a second once again, once again not a long enough second for Corpse to speak up. “You’re a famous YouTuber, aren’t you?“

He was completely unaware of the fact Y/N hadn’t realized he was someone famous yet. In fact, he didn’t think of it because he thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to her considering she’s friends with Jack-fucking-septiceye! In his mind, his ranking is far lower than Jack’s - despite that mindset being absurd - so the last thing he expected was for her to have some sort of impressed reaction to have been talking to him on the phone this whole time. Hell, she doesn’t even know his full YouTube name or what kind of content he produces.

“WAIT!“ She shouts urgently, startling him a tiny bit, “You’re Corpse Husband, aren’t you? Oh my God, yes you are, how didn’t I put it together sooner? Ah crap, I really need more coffee for this.“

“No! No, you need more sleep.“ Corpse hurries to correct her but is very clearly ignored or overlapped with the many sounds that are coming from her end, “What are you doing?“

“You’re getting the first rough sketch of a design by tomorrow morning.“ She says, taking a sip of whatever beverage she’s acquired for the purpose of keeping her awake, “You go ahead and get some sleep, I know exactly what I’m doing. Don’t worry about it.“

“I’m not worried about the design.“ He hurries to say before she, God forbid, hangs up on him, “It’s 1AM, woman, you need sleep! I don’t need those designs done by tomorrow. Hell, I don’t even need them this week!“

“You don’t, but I do.“ Y/N says, sounding almost breathless because of what seems to be overwhelming excitement, “You don’t get it - I’m designing merch for Corpse fucking Husband! You have any idea how crazy that is?“

“I personally would say it’s underwhelming. I mean, I’m no Pewdiepie, after all.“ He says, now sat at his desk with his free hand rubbing his temple as he stares at the designs he’s pulled up on his screen, ones he probably won’t need given that he’s now working with a professional.

“Oh, shut it.“ She chuckles, “Shut it and get some sleep, ok? I’ll talk to you in the morning.“

“Noooo...“ He leisurely stretches the word, “Tell me, Y/N, do you have Discord?” She clicks her tongue instantly, giving him a signal that the question he’s asked is bordering into the territory of ridiculous. He playfully rolls his eyes, “Alright then, lemme find you. If we’re partnering up on this, we’re both staying up.”

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t fully trust me with this? Like, I won’t be offended, I get it.“ She murmurs in-thought, the sound of clicking evident on her end. 

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t want me bothering you and want me to leave you alone?“ He mimics her statement, smirking to himself as he pulls up Discord, knowing he’s already won.

She huffs and tells him her Discord info, quickly adding a small comment, “...but only because great minds think alike. I know we’ll be getting along on this design pretty nicely.”

“Yeah, yeah, right, sure, whatever you say.“ He laughs, “Accept my friend request and let’s drop this phone call.“

“Hey! - um, before we do that, I just wanna say a quick thank you.“ Y/N murmurs quietly, as if half-hoping he doesn’t hear her.

“For what?“ Corpse asks, his brows furrowing, unsure if they’re on the same page about this gratitude.

“For never once triggering my phone call anxiety.“ She admits, “I mean, I know I said I have lines prepared for every conversation scenario possible, but you totally caught me off-guard.“ She giggles a tiny bit, now sounding dangerously close to nervous, “But, not in a bad way, if that makes sense. Sorry if it doesn’t, I need more coffee.“

“No, no, it does!“ He hurries to reassure her, “It really does. And thank you too. Thank you for, you know, tolerating my BS at this hour. God knows I would’ve ignored your call if our roles were reversed.“

He hears her scoff and can’t help but laugh, “Huh ok, I see.“ She says, sounding greatly triggered and mock-pissed at his confession, “I’ll make sure to think of that next time you call me after midnight. Or at all, ever.“

Laughing his butt off, the only thing Corpse can think of in this moment is:

Damn, this girl and I are gonna get along

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[blinderspeaky]

Amoret | Tommy Shelby

A/n: So this is my first piece of writing here and I apologise if it's too long! idk how accurate this is but I had fun writing it so that's all that matters I guess

Cora is going through a dry spell because everyone is too scared to make a move on her because of her best friend, Thomas Shelby, so he takes matters into his own hands -- literally.

Word count: 23,450

"I can't believe you did that." I flirtatiously giggle as if I didn't have to scrub my hands raw to get rid of the blood from the gory mess that happened just a few hours prior.

"I needed to get out somehow, I just didn't realise I was trashing hundreds of pounds worth of art." The handsome stranger laughs, leaning into me as we get more familiar and comfortable with each other.

"Terrible, just terrible." I smile fondly, my red lipstick gleaming at him as I fiddle with my fruity cocktail.

"I must say, you have the most gorgeous smile, if I knew how to paint I'd never run out of inspiration as long as you're around." The man charms and I have to suppress an eye roll.

What does a girl have to do to just get a bit of pleasure round here?

I'm not here to be charmed, I'm here for a fun time.

"Thank you, you really know how to charm a girl." I say, crossing my leg over the other, so that my leg is in between his legs from where he's sat on the bar stool.

"Only the pretty ones." He replies, pushing the little curled bits of hair framing my face behind my ear-- the rest of my hair is placed in a delicate low bun, pinned back with expensive pins. He rubs his knuckles against my cutting cheek bone, seemingly admiring my face. "It's unfair how beautiful you are."

"What are you gonna do? Kiss me about it?" I make the first move.

He smirks. 

"Thinking about it."

His eyes flicker between my eyes and my lips, and he's about to lean in when a voice interrupts.

"Cora." Tommy says as he walks up to us. "I'm going to head back to my office, I'll see you later to finish business, alright?"

"Yeah, just you?" I question, staring up at my best friend.

"Yeah, Arthur's pissed in the back room, thought I'd let you know, but everyone is still here." Tommy answers, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

"See yous." I sing, ready to turn back to my entertainment tonight.

"Bye." Tommy says and gives the handsome stranger a once over before leaning down to say something into my ear. I'm used to his teasing and he's used to my punches after, so I let out a huff, ready to hear what he has to say this time. "Careful, I've heard this one bites."

I look into his eyes with an annoyed look. "That's why I'm here."

Tommy lets out a quiet chuckle before wordlessly leaving the building, leaving me with the pretty boy.

Looking back at the stranger, I'm startled to find him wide eyed and inching away from me by the second.

"What?" I ask, taking a sip from my drink.

"That was... that was Thomas Shelby." He says, frozen.

"So?" I lift a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"He's a Peaky Blinder."

"So am I, yet you've been talking to me just fine." I state, knowing where this is going; this has happened way too many times recently.

People know of me but most people couldn't put a face to my name, which is why this happens a lot. I'm ready for the onslaught of rejection and a hint of terror.

"You're a Peaky Blinder?" He utters as if he can't believe it.

I nod.

"I've gotta, uh, go, have a nice evening but I must get going." He says and quickly gets off his stool to rush out of the room, practically tripping over his own feet.

Letting out a huff, I finish my drink before hopping off my stool to join everyone in the back room, everyone is more or less smashed, a slur of half hearted cheers go around room when I enter and it makes me smile. I sit down next to Finn, who offers me a cigarette, which I accept and light it up, tilting my head towards the ceiling showcasing the thin, long scar on my throat, I blow the smoke out, watching it billow towards the ceiling.

"Why are men so scared of me and Tommy?" I grumble.

"Because they know if they fuck up, either of you will rip their spleen out, darling." Polly comments, her slender fingers twitching her cigarette to drop off the ash. "Individually or together, doesn't matter." She adds.

"Match made in heaven... or hell, depends how you look at it." Michael states before downing his drink.

"How do you do it?" I ask Polly, taking a drag of my cigarette.

"Well, for starters, I'm not as ruthless as you and I guess I'm not attached to the hip with Thomas." She replies nonchalantly.

"What you need to do, right, Cora, is find a man who is handsome and can take a good punch." Arthur tells me and I raise an eyebrow at him. "Because whoever it is, he's gonna get punched by someone you know and by punched I mean shot."

"No one is bulletproof, Arthur." I say, not taking on his drunk advice.

"I am." John laughs.

"No, no you're fucking not." Finn retorts.

"How do girls not get scared of you guys?" I question, fiddling with my necklace. "On an extremely good day you guys can look intimidating and scary, how do you get girls?"

They all scoff at my teasing.

"Fuck off, alright." Arthur grumbles, knocking back another glass.

"The girls like the thrill. They come from a very traditional family and want a part of the danger but they also think they can change us." John answers my question seriously.

"Never fucking works though, does it?" Finn barks a laugh, nudging John.

We continue to chat for a while before I get bored and I'm still slightly pissed off about earlier, so I say my goodbyes not that anyone's really listening, too drunk to function so I slip out and step out into the brisk chilly streets of Birmingham.

Twisting and turning until I get to my destination, I open the door with the key I've had for literal years and brush my shoes off before stepping inside, closing the door behind me.

Making my way through the room, I wordlessly open Tommy's office, finding him sat at his desk going through paper work, cigarette in hand; he looks up, dropping his pen but goes back to his work.

"You're here earlier than I thought." He states, his tone light.

I huff, mad at him although I know it's not his fault.

"Same." I reply tightly, throwing my bag down into the little seating area in the corner of his office before I sit down in the chair opposite him.

"You don't have to be here, I can do this on my own, you know. I'm not forcing you to be here." Tommy replies in a sincere voice, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"I know, but no one wants me out there." I counteract, leaning back in my chair, a sour look on my face.

Tommy looks like he wants to ask but decides against it; he knows when I'll come around.

"Right, uh... so I talked to some connections and they said they know about the plans but are refusing to tell me any details, and I'm debating with either paying them a visit or selling their information." Tommy informs and just like that I'm back into business mode again, forgetting about my interaction from earlier.

Then we talk about business, business plans, plans for the future, and just random things whilst having a laugh.

As things are winding down, Tommy gets up to grab a drink from his own bar cart that he has in his office.

"Do you want one?" Tommy offers, looking over his shoulder at me.

"Sure." I accept and he gets another glass out, beginning to pour our drinks. I sink into my chair, rubbing my eyes as I let out a groan. I'm still bothered about earlier.

That guy just rubbed me the wrong way, it's happened plenty of times before tonight; I'm best friends with one the most notoriously dangerous person in the midlands, I guess tonight was just my breaking point.

If I saw him again, I wouldn't hesitate to send a few promises to him.

"Fuck, how come you can be a manwhore but I can't even get a single person to be interested in me for more than 20 minutes?" I question, accepting my glass from Tommy when he approaches me.

"Long enough to get the job done though." Tommy jokes, sitting down in the chair next to me, our feet hovering above one another where our legs are crossed. "I think it's a little thing called misogyny."

"Little thing my ass." I bitterly chuckle, taking a sip. "You're at fault for all this, by the way."

"The fuck did I do?" He asks with a light laugh, before taking a sip of his drink.

"You're the reason all these people get scared to either even approach me or go any further than some harmless flirting." I explain, tucking some hair behind my ear as I send him a look that only widens his smirk.

"Not my fault people are so delirious with terror when it comes to me." Tommy shrugs, placing his glass on the table beside his chair and he laughs at my disbelief.

"Yeah, because you definitely didn't put on a show at the garrison last month that we're still finding blood from." I roll my eyes fondly.

"Got to show my enemies what I'm capable of." Thomas brushes my words off. "And hey, it's not like you're innocent yourself. Didn't you destroy a guy's face so much they the police couldn't even identify him just a few days ago?" He teases, licking his lips.

"No, doesn't ring any bells." I shake my head.

"Funny, maybe that's why men are scared of you and won't approach you. I for one, am absolutely terrified of you." Tommy states, making me laugh knowing that's he's only half joking.

"Most people can't put name to my face so they generally don't know me, therefore it's your fault." I tell him, placing my drink on the matching side table next to me.

"Really?" He sighs

"Yes! Just earlier tonight I was talking to some guy and then you came along, Mr. I will cut someones ears off if they look at me, and you scared the bejeezus out of him, turned him into a puddle of foolery. Then I told him I'm connected to you and he freaked the fuck out, made an excuse to leave and he practically tripped over his own feet to get away from me." I reply grumpily, sitting up in my chair.

"Are you done?" Tommy asks, sending me a look.

"No, no I'm fucking not. I've not had sex in like 2 months, do you even know what that feels like? Most of the time it's not even me, it's you that scares them off!" I answer exasperated, watching him down the rest of his drink, placing the empty glass back on the table.

"No, I don't, actually. Why don't you just go outside of Birmingham for a fuck?" Tommy suggests, leaning forward on his knees.

"Fuck you. Mate, I've fucking tried and if we weren't literally sewn together that might work but everywhere I am, you are, vice versa. It's also such a faff to go all the way out or Birmingham for some dick that's probably mediocre. You ju---"

I'm cut off from my rant by Tommy's lips on mine.

I'm so confused and stunned by his actions that I don't know how to react. Freezing, I just sit there for a moment before I decide to kiss him back for a few moments before I pull back sort of abruptly, not in a big deal.

"What are you doing?" I question, searching his crystal clear blue eyes that are mere inches away from my face.

"If everyone else is so scared of me that they can't approach you, may as well take matters into my own hands." Thomas explains, and he gingerly cups my cheek, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone, his eyes soft.

I lean in closer to him, thinking over how this could play out, what it would do to our years long friendship.

It's no secret that we find each other attractive, we've said it to each other and everyone around us, but I can honestly say that nothing has ever happened between us. Two best friends that have expressed our admiration for each other.

I don't know if I want to ruin that.

Our friendship is incredibly strong and personal, I don't know if one steamy night could just throw that away.

My desire acts on it's own and as Tommy is searching my green eyes, I close the gap between us, moving in perfect sync with each other as I play with his hair and he squeezes my waist.

It's like I'm slipping into a trance and all I can think of is Tommy, I'm consumed with all things Tommy. This moment right now is making me feel lighter than air, I've got sparks on my stomach at how he's making me feel.

The burning need to be closer is killing me and it seems like Tommy is feeling the same as he uncups my cheek and places his hands on my waist, pulling me onto his lap.

Thomas agonizingly slowly trails his hand up my thigh, his fingertips grazing my exposed skin where my dress has risen up, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Tommy's hand comes in contact with the pocket knife stuffed into my stocking and he pulls away slightly, letting out a low throaty chuckle, "Classic Cora." He mumbles against my mouth, making me smile, and he pulls deadly weapon from my stocking, placing it on the table beside him. Giving my hip a momentary squeeze, Tommy swipes his tongue against my lip asking for entrance, parting my lips, his tongue meets mine and he begins to explore my mouth, seeing what gets a reaction from me.

His fingers find my precariously placed tied up hair, pulling the few pins out and then the hair tie, sending my thick, dark brown almost black curls cascading down my back, causing Tommy to let out a sound of appreciation and bury his fingers into my hair.

I don't usually have my hair down as it's easy to grab on to and it just feels more professional to have it up. I've also got so much of it that it gets in the way when I'm trying to work.

Disconnecting from Tommy I attach my mouth to his neck, leaving my mark. Tommy tilts his head, giving me space to find his sweet spot and he lets out a nice little moan as I set to work.

The pending feeling of his hand trailing my thigh is overwhelming and his fingertips approaching where I need him the most makes me pause, my bottom lip dragging up the skin of his neck.

"Do you want me to stop?" Thomas whispers into my ear, his pursed lips tugging at my earlobe.

"Fuck no." I consent, and his hand meets my underwear.

Beginning to confidently rub me through my underwear, I let out a shaky breath against Tommy's neck and I instinctively open my legs wider for him. His touch is as light as a feather, desperate for more friction, I grind on his fingers letting out a moan.

"Mm, sound so good for me." Tommy rasps, his teeth grazing the skin on my prominent collarbone. Moving my fancy lacy underwear to the side, without hesitation Tommy runs his fingers through my folds, collecting my wetness and bringing it up to my clit.

All I can do is bite my lip to conceal my moans.

Trailing my hand down his front until I meet is trousers and I begin to palm is growing semi, which makes him let out a groan.

I declare that as my favourite sound.

Suddenly in one swift motion, I'm moved off of Tommy's lap and placed right on the edge of his hardwood desk and he's standing right in front of me, his gorgeous blue eyes blown out, looking at me as if I were the only person in world, and he's hungry.

"You're really pretty." Tommy utters.

Before I can reply, Thomas captures my lips again in another sensual kiss that's full of tongue, noises of appreciation, and hands are roaming as we keep involuntarily grinding against each other.

Pushing his suit jacket off and watching it drop to the floor, Tommy's hands find the back of my dress, making quick work of undoing the expensive fabric, and pulling it off of me, leaving me in my lingerie that I definitely didn't plan on letting my best friend see tonight whilst he's in his trousers, crisp white shirt, and extortionate looking waistcoat.

"Wow." My best friend says, slightly out of breath, taking in my figure and how off guard and innocent I look.

Unlike the brutally violent and devious businesswoman I am.

"Unbelievable."

"Shut up and touch me." I chuckle bashfully, weirded out at how special he's making me feel.

I feel extremely exposed but in a weird way, I kind of like it.

Tommy smiles fondly and presses a series of short kisses to my mouth before I take hold of his lip, flicking my tongue against him, causing him to tighten his grip on me.

Disconnecting, Thomas kisses down my neck, leaving a mark or two on his way down, until he gets to my chest and I arch into him. Kissing my cleavage as he cups my right boob, his lips trail down my torso, leaving a trail of fire behind him.

Dropping down to his knees, Tommy takes hold of my hips pressing a gentle kiss below my belly button before he snaps open my garter one by one and effortlessly drags my stockings down my legs.

Grazing up my legs with his hands or mouth, Tommy after what feels like years pulls my panties down, throwing them out of sight, I watch as his eyes light up and if possible I feel even more exposed.

Flicking his eyes up to me, looking like he's asking for my consent, I brush my fingers through his hair and give him a subtle nod.

Burying his head between my thigh, Tommy licks a strip up my heat, making me let out a moan, and bury my fingers into his thick hair.

Leaning back onto his desk, Tommy pushes my thighs apart so he can get better access as he attaches his mouth so my core, sending me to all sorts of heaven.

"Fuck, Tommy." I whine, tugging at his hair as I arch my back.

"Let it out, we're here alone, scream my name, let me hear how much you want me." Tommy urges with a slight smirk.

Without any warning, Tommy pumps a finger into me and I conform to his wishes at that, not caring how loud I was being, I let his name fall from my lips along with my moans.

My legs shudder under his hand, he lapped at me as if I were his last meal, reveling in the sounds I was making, the sounds he was earning.

I was close and we both knew that, so Tommy speeds up his movements and adds another finger inside of me, curling up.

"Fuck, oh my god, Tommy, don't stop." I pant, tugging at his hair.

Tommy had me withering in moments, my fingers tugging at his hair which made him groan, only adding to the pleasure he was giving me.

"Fuck, I'm gonna---" I began which only spurred Thomas on, he sucked harder and pumped his fingers faster. My breathing hitched and shaky, breathy, and loud sounds left my lips as I clenched around him, my body shuddering from the orgasm he'd worked out of me.

He continues his motions making sure I'm done, then pulls his fingers out, standing up right, brushing some hair out of my face.

"Such a pretty girl." He whispers, eyeing my lips.

Tommy's thumb runs over my bottom lip and I open my mouth, he brings his fingers that were inside of me to my lips, and I stick my tongue out and he inserts his finger into mouth, letting me suck my juices off of his fingers; his eyes seemingly in a trance at how my mouth is working.

"Mm, just like that." He whispers.

Standing up to my full height, I guide Tommy to swap places with me and he's very much willing to do so, peppering kisses to his jaw before dropping to my knees, I innocently look up at him through my lashes, loving how he's so aware of all my movements and how he's like putty in my hands.

"May I?" I raise an eyebrow, digging my fingertips under his belt.

Tommy leans down and cups my jaw, pressing a deep kiss to my lips. "Of course." I grin in delight and snatch a quick kiss as he begins to retreat.

Undoing his belt, I take that off and throw it away before undoing his button and pulling down his zipper. Palming him through his undone trousers, Tommy lets out a hitched breath, it's a barely there pressure, enough to feel something but no where enough as much as he like.

"Stop teasing." He groans, bracing himself on his desk and his knuckles are milky white from how hard he's holding on to his desk.

I chuckle darkly. "Tommy, I haven't even started."

Continuing my actions mixing up my pressure and pace as he throws his head back in annoyance.

Pulling him out of his underwear letting him spring free, Thomas groans when I grab him, making my mouth water. This sight alone could give me immense pleasure.

The sight of me on my knees in front of him, him practically fully clothed with his dick out, just calling out for me to suck, all whilst in the middle of his office.

With my best friend let alone.

I would love to tease him for hours but the overwhelming urge to hear Tommy moan, moan my name and pull my hair gets the best of me.

Tightening my grip on him, I wrap my lips around his tip that's already leaking precum, sucking lightly, which makes him throw his head back in pleasure.

"So pretty, such a pretty cock." I utter, licking his entire length and wrapping my mouth around him.

"Fuck, Cora." Tommy gasps, threading his hand in my hair to keep me there, and I let out a hum, causing him to tighten his grip on my hair as he lets out an estranged moan.

Taking as much as I possibly can into my mouth, I begin to work my magic, pumping whatever I can't with my hand whilst Tommy breathes heavily and lets out his moans above me.

The sight of him with his head thrown back as he moans my name whilst he half heartedly guides me with his hand, too lost in the pleasure to properly commits to it, is ingrained in my mind.

We're completely lost in the moment, right now it's just him and I, there's nothing else in our mind except lust and each other, and I'm alright with that.

"Oh my... fuck, I can't l---" Tommy cuts his pleasured rambling off and lets out a large breath before pulling me off of him. "I wanna finish inside of you." Tommy states breathlessly.

I wordlessly stand up, more than willing to conform to his needs and begin to undress him, his hands pulling off his clothes as fast as he can until he's completely stark naked in the middle of his office with his best friend.

Realising I've still got my bra on, I undo the back and pull the straps down, watching it fall the floor.

Tommy and I stand in front of each other, completely enamoured with each other, feeling extremely exposed but I like it.

"Gorgeous." Thomas whispers before pressing his lips to mine, gingerly holding my face in his hands.

Thomas guides me back a few steps to his desk and I prop myself upon it, as Tommy's hands roam.

Taking hold of himself, Tommy runs his tip through my dripping folds, the both of us letting out a shaky breath.

"You ready?" Tommy questions, tucking some hair behind my ears before pressing his forehead against mine.

"Mhm." I hum, running my hand down his back.

Capturing my lips in a quick kiss, Tommy lines himself up with my entrance and pushes in until he's done to the hilt.

"Fuck." We say in unison, making us breathe a chuckle.

Beginning to move his hips, Tommy buries his face in my neck, dragging his mouth wherever he pleases, exploring my skin. I hold the back of his neck, trying to stay afloat as my toes curl, and we're too far gone to care when expensive things fall from Tommy's desk.

***

"You should wear your hair down more often." Tommy tells me softly as he's propped up on his elbow looking down at me as I lie on my back, settling into the fairly large seating area Tommy has in his office.

"It's so long, it gets in the way." I pout, rubbing my eye.

"I like it." He sincerely says, picking up a lock and twirling it around his finger.

We're have gentle pillow talk without the pillows, just looking at each other in a different way as we lie in our underwear in the warm room, talking in quiet voices as if the whole world could hear us.

"I like your hair, very imaginative." I tease, combing his locks with my fingers.

"Rude." He grumbles, poking me in the side making me jerk as I let out a laugh.

"When you first get it cut it feels like velcro." I chuckle, making him grin.

"Yeah, I've just got the worst barber." Tommy smirks, playing with my fingers.

"Bitch." I laugh, ruffling his velcro like hair.

Every other Sunday Tommy sits in my kitchen letting me cut his hair as we bitch about business or just forgetting about work altogether.

"Talented at your craft but the most annoying barber I've ever met." He shakes his head, amused.

"I tell you each time, I don't mean to tickle your neck or catch your ear, it just happens." I defend myself, making him laugh.

"I don't mean to stab you, it just happens!" Tommy imitates me, making me poke him in the ribs which only makes him laugh harder. "If only people knew of your barbering skills and not your knife wielding skills, maybe they wouldn't be so scared of you."

"If only people knew of your sewing skills, they wouldn't be so scared of your gun ridden hand." I retort with a fond smile, looking up at how pretty he looks in this light, with the small matching fond smile of his face.

"Shh, or I'll tell people you are a professional at juggling." Tommy smirks, pushing some hair out of my face.

"Yeah, with knives, that's cool as fuck." I reply, passionate about my talent.

"Careful or we'll send you away to go to the circus." Tommy chuckles, pulling me in for a smiley kiss.

I've always been known to wake up really late, always the last one up, the last one to finish breakfast if at all, and always the last one out of the door in the morning. It's not that I stay out really late, I'm usually at home at a reasonable time, I cosy down in my homely home, and I just relax after the usually hectic day and yet I still wake up late.

Except today.

I wake up tangled in a mess of limbs, Tommy's arms wrapped around me and I suck in a breath, wishing on everything in the world that he doesn't wake up. Easily slipping out of his grasp, I sit on the edge of the large ottoman, rubbing my face before letting out a sigh.

I need to get dressed and be out of here before Thomas wakes up, I do not want to have the awkward conversation of the morning after.

Quickly and quietly, I put my dress back on, throw my hair up as I approach the window, pulling one of the slats down to see what it's like at this ungodly hour of 5 in the morning, the Sun is just starting to rise, highlighting the permanent haze of smoke above Birmingham.

Shoving my ankle boots on, I tug the zips up and tip toe towards the door so that my heels don't click against the wooden floors.

Closing the door behind me as silently as possible, I let out a big breath when I succeed and begin to walk out the building that I visit everyday.

I know I'm going to see Thomas again in just a few hours but hopefully we'll both be consumed in work to talk about what happened. God I hope no one will pick up on what happened.

I don't regret last night at all and I can say that with my whole chest but I also love my friendship with Tommy, and I hope one night of mind blowing, amazing sex won't ruin that.

I've no idea where we stand and that scares me.

That's my best friend, he'll always be my best friend.

Opening up the door to my house that I never got to see last night, I begin to tidy up a few things as I've got some time before I have to head into work. This is my haven, this is wear I escape work, I try not to bring business back here, this is my safe place so I have to have it clean.

Shoving an old newspaper into the bin, I begin to make a bite of breakfast and head into my bedroom whilst it cooks so I can get properly dressed.

Pulling my wardrobe open, brushing my fingers over the hangers until I find a suitable item a clothing; a navy blue dress that gives the illusion that it's off the shoulder but it's got a see through mesh-like material hanging from my shoulders with tiny multicoloured flowers embroidered into it, it's cinched at the waist but it's got a wavy extra bit of fabric above my chest, the length is slightly longer than I usually go for as it's inches shy from my ankles, whilst I usually go for just below the knee dresses but I like it.

Just about being able to do it up myself, I pick out some appropriate shoes with a tall heel as I'm surrounded by a lot of men so I hate being the shortest person in the room.

Plus Tommy is quite a bit taller than me and he always teases me for that, so I use my heel to either kick him in the shin or step on his toes.

Gently brushing through my hair to make sure it doesn't frizz up on me, I throw it up in an intricate low bun, leaving some large parts out to frame my face.

Going back downstairs to fetch my breakfast which I eat whilst I read this morning's paper, before I head out of the door.

***

"Well I'll say, this has got to be a first." Arthur laughs, leaning back in his chair as I enter the betting shop.

"Wow," Polly starts, looking at her watch bewildered. "Only 45 minutes late."

Even though I got up at the ass crack of dawn, I'm still late as I may or may not of got preoccupied with the book I've been reading recently and then I got caught up chatting with some people on my way over here.

"I usually expect to see you at around 10 or 11." John smirks, taking his cigar out of his mouth.

"What can I say? Don't get used to it." I say, my eyes flickering towards Tommy's office where he seems to be as of now and I can't help by think about last night.

"It's almost as if you're acting professional and playing by the rules." Polly sarcastically replies, hovering above Arthur.

"Never." I shake my head, placing my bag on my desk then hanging my long coat on the coat hanger.

"Tommy's in a bad mood, so watch out." John jokes, swinging in his chair.

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow, looking at him.

"Well, he's not really in any mood, he's just brooding in silence and doesn't want to interact or talk to anyone." Polly rolls her eyes,making her way over to her own work station. "Maybe you can sort him out." She adds, with a small smile.

Doubt it.

"I've gotta get my forms so I have to interact with him." I huff and brace myself as I open the door to his office, I've never knocked before so I'm not gonna start now.

"Good morning." Michael greets me, sitting in the chair that Tommy kissed me in.

"Morning." I say back, my eyes flicking up to Tommy who's not taking his eyes off of his work in front of him.

"Do you even know what this time of day looks like?" Michael teases, and I roll my eyes.

"Don't worry, Michael, she's been up for hours, I'm sure Cora loves the sunrise." Tommy states before I can even think of replying to Michael.

I glare at him as he leans back in his chair, lighting up his cigarette not even looking at me.

If he wants to be hostile, I can always beat him at that.

"Practically pulled an all nighter, was busy with a piece of work." I tell Michael but my words are aimed at Tommy, and I'm right because Tommy can be a piece of work when he wants to be.

Tommy just exhales his smoke and looks at me devoid of any emotion as I refuse to look at him.

"Should've asked for a hand, I'd of been more than willing." Michael says, completely oblivious to Tommy and I's quips.

"No, couldn't do that to you." I wave him off. "Anyway, I only came in here to get my forms." I say, finally looking at Tommy in the eyes, waiting for him to give them to me as they're in his drawer.

He just stares at me, his cigarette burning in his hand, seeming like there's a million words in his head that he wants to say yet absolutely thoughtless at the same time.

"Run along then, Michael." Tommy says as he hands Michael a file, which Michael wordlessly takes and exits the room.

Letting out a huff, I walk around his desk and crouch down next to him to open his bottom drawer.

"You're a twat, Tom." I grumble, grabbing the wad and standing up.

"No what you were saying la---" Tommy gets cut off by me slamming the stupid forms on his desk and the grabbing his own gun from his holster and pressing it below his jaw as I hold his throat, pushing him back in his chair.

"Finish that sentence, I dare you." I prompt him, looking at his slightly taken aback eyes. "You know I'll do it."

He stays silent, clearly picking up on my vibe.

Putting pressure on my hands one last time before throwing his gun into his lap, gathering what I came in here for and leaving his office.

Tommy and I bicker all the time, disagree on extremely menial stuff but we only properly argue very occasionally but we always come around in the end because despite everything we love each other but god can we get on each other's nerves.

Not that I'd call that an argument, that was just a warning.

"We knew you weren't a morning person but fuck Tommy must've pissed you right off." Arthur laughs, as he chalks some stuff up on the big blackboard.

"More than you'll ever know." I grumble, and begin to get to work.

***

As the Sun sets, people start clearing out of the building as they finish their work, singing or grumbling a goodbye over their shoulder as they go home to their family or lonesome house. I could only dream of clocking out as I've still got a load of work to do and not even the kind I like, it's all admin and menial things that need to be done but I wouldn't consider it fun by any means.

It's kind of nice in a funny sort of way, it's dark outside and the lights are on illuminating the room with a soft glow, there's a slight patter of rain on the windows and it's just relaxing and quiet.

It's giving me a moment with my mind to think things over as I pretty much work on autopilot.

I know Tommy is still here, I can see him through the glass doors to his office, clearing extremely concentrated on whatever he's doing; I wonder if his mind keeps drifting back to what we did on his desk just last night.

I don't what to say to him, he's giving me the cold shoulder, refuses to talk to me unless it's necessary, and I just don't know where we stand. I don't know what I want to come from last night, I'm really happy with where we are right now and although I had - arguably - the best sex of my life last night, not much can come between our friendship.

I felt something that night, Tommy made me feel so special and like I was the most important person in the world to him, and I couldn't deny that those feelings.

Letting out a sigh, I drop my pen and grab a cigarette, placing it between my lips before I search for my matches. Striking a match, I tilt my head back and as I'm bringing the flame to my cigarette my eyes catch Tommy leaning against the doorway to his office, staring at me.

I pause for a moment before lighting my cigarette and waving the match out as I exhale.

"You look really pretty when you concentrate." Tommy states and if there were another person in here I don't think I would of been able to hear him.

"I don't do it often so you're welcome." I reply, never one to take compliments. "But thanks." I bashfully add.

"We both know that's not true." Tommy smiles ever so slightly.

"You look really pretty when you smile." I reply, taking a drag from my cigarette.

Tommy steps down the few steps and approaches me.

"Cora... what's going on?" Tommy asks, turning the chair beside me around so he can sit on it backwards, his arms folded on the backrest.

I look down, not sure what to say or where to look or how to react.

"I don't... I don't know." I say quietly, almost ashamed to admit. I'm always in control of a situation, I know the ins and outs but this time I have no idea where I stand, what's going on and I'm definitely not in control; neither of us are.

"Do you regret it?" He questions and I look at him properly.

"No, I don't. I can honestly say that I don't regret it." I answer sincerely, and a shimmer of relief speeds across his eyes. "Do you?"

"No. It was great and you don't regret great things." Tommy replies after a few moments, watching me stub out my cigarette. "But... I was hurt that you left before I woke up." He hesitantly adds, as if he doesn't know how to put his words together.

Neither do I.

Looking around the room as I try to gather my words, I can feel his bright blue eyes boring into my side and its quite unnerving.

"I didn't know what to say to you. Tommy, you're my best friend, you have been since year 9, we've gone through so much together and I can always rely on you ---you've always just been my best friend. Then suddenly when I get rejected by some twat who's scared of either women in general or the fact that you are my best friend and you decide to kiss me and then things escalate, things change. For good or for bad I don't know." I try to just put some of my thoughts into words.

"You could've left a note, woke me up if you really needed to go, silently got dressed with me and then we parted ways, anything... anything other than wordlessly leaving. Everything stopped, I slept a full night, I didn't have any messy dreams, I woke up rested, then when I saw you weren't there with me, none of that mattered anymore." Thomas explains with a small shrug, his eyes burning for a conclusion, a cohesive answer, anything.

"Only because you had company, female company no doubt." I state, sending him a tired look. His face is illuminated by the standing lamp behind me, highlighting his slight frustration, hurt, and confusion.

"No, I'm almost 100 percent sure it's not just female company. When I got back from fighting and I was having my night terrors, I'd call you up and you'd come sleep in my bed, and you'd help me fall asleep again and at least help with my dreams. When I was using you'd demand that we share a bed because you knew that I knew that you hated it. You've always helped me sleep." Tommy insists, leaning forward in his chair.

"I was just being a good friend, Tom."

"I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend or to marry me, I'm just saying I sleep better with you around. I don't know what I want to come out from this or where we stand but please promise that at the end of the day we'll always be best friends." Tommy pleads, grabbing my hand, clasping it with both of his.

"We'll always be best friends, Thomas. No matter how mad I am at you or you at me, I'll always be there for you." I assure, squeezing his hand with a small smile. "I hate not being in control, my whole life I've always been in control, had a grip on things, and just knew the ins and outs of every situation, then suddenly I don't it scares the living hell out of me, Tom. I don't know how to react."

"I'm not asking you to, I'm just as confused and lost as you are, I don't know where we stand or how to be normal again." Tommy says, his eyebrows raised. "I don't know what I want to come from this, but I know I'll always want you around."

"Same, always." I tell him, looking deep into his eyes. "I've gotta go, Tommy, I'll see you tomorrow." I lie, I've still got a load of work to do but if Tommy keeps looking at me like he is now, I'm not going to be able to make it out of here without my hair a mess.

Standing up, I push my chair back in and take a step away before Tommy says something.

"You can't keep running from your problems."

I pause, turning to look at him.

"Sorry?"

"You can't keep running away from things that you can't solve in 5 minutes." Tommy expands, looking up at me. He looks uncertain, as if he doesn't know how I'll react.

Keeping my gaze on his for a split second more before I swiftly bend down to press my lips against his, cupping his cheek. He seems surprised and stills for a moment then eagerly kisses me back, his hand also on my cheek.

We kiss for a few more moments until I pull back slightly, our faces inches away. "Watch me." I whisper, looking into his stormy sea of blue eyes, and my eyes flicker down to his lips before I stand up to my full height.

Taking a step back to make my move out of here but Tommy suddenly stands up straight and grabs my hand before I can escape and pulls me into him, immediately cupping my face with his soft hands and softly crashes his mouth to mine.

Without any hesitation I kiss him back, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck as I slowly relax into him. Tommy pulls me impossibly close to him, feeling every contort of his body, his hands steadily trail down my back as I work my mouth against his.

Once again, Tommy pulls my hair out of my hairband, letting my wild locks bounce free around my back. He buries his fingers into my curls whilst his other hand wonders, feeling my waist, hips and ass.

I press my hips against his and he leans against the nearest desk, he lets out a moan at the feeling of my hips and I take advantage of that so my tongue can get reacquainted with his.

Last time it was slow, hesitant touches, taking our time but this time it's eager, fast moving, and hungry.

I let out a moan when Tommy flicks his tongue against mine, completely lost in the moment; I can feel that I'm losing myself in him, his touch, his mouth, his mind. Disconnecting, Tommy attaches his mouth to the sensitive skin on my neck, dragging his lips up to the sweet spot below my ear.

The fast that he knows that fact sends me reeling over something so silly and simple, but it wakes me up.

Immediately I push myself off of him, taking a few shaky steps back with wide eyes. He looks shocked, his blown out eyes shining in concern, and he takes a step towards me.

"Co---"

"No." I shake my head. "We can't do this, I need to leave." I blurt out and make an exit, not bothering to pick up my coat on the way out as Tommy calls after me, but I slam the door on him, blocking out his voice that's always been comforting for me.

***

"Turns out it was just a fluke then." Polly teases, lighting up a cigarette as I enter the building.

"Seems like it." I agree, glancing at the clock, seeing it reads 10:45.

"Who's this raven haired beauty walking in?" A familiar voice asks, and I look to my left to see Ada proudly sitting on the closest desk to me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, not being able to help the grin on my face as I approach her, pulling her into a quick hug.

"Thought I should come up as I haven't seen everyone in a while, and you even longer." Ada explains, and it's true as the last time she came up I was busy visiting my family that live down south.

"Well, it's great to see you again. Did you bring Karl?" I question, and as I'm looking at her I can't help the guilt that tugs at me as I slept with her brother just a few nights ago.

"Yeah, he's busy making a mess in Tommy's office with Finn." She answers, folding her arms.

"I'm sure he'll look forward to finding that." I smirk. "Is Tommy here by the way?" I ask curiously, hanging my bag up along with my coat, next to the coat I left here last night when I made a hasty exit.

"No, something happened at The Garrison or something and he had to go sort that out." Ada informs me, sending me a quizzical look when I let out a sigh of relief.

"Michael said someone got too rowdy and fired some shots at someone, no ones seriously hurt but Tommy went to go sort it out." Polly says, walking towards us creating a trio.

"When did your hair get so long?" Ada asks fascinated, her slender fingers coming up to grasp a few loose curls.

"I've not seen you without your hair up in what? Two years, maybe?" Polly comments, also looking at my hair.

"I just didn't have time this morning to do it, rolled out of bed, parted it and left." I tell her, running my hand through it.

"Didn't have the time? It's nearly 11 o'clock and you're only just strolling into work." Ada exclaims with a laugh.

"It took me ages to get to sleep, and I need my 8 hours." I retort, the reasons I couldn't get to sleep need to remain a secret.

Her damn brother.

"And just because you're you Tommy won't get mad. If any of us are more than 20 minutes late, Tommy will act like a child." Polly roll her eyes.

"How do you do it?" Ada asks genuinely.

Suck his dick apparently.

"I simply just show him my knife and he does whatever." I joke, with a smirk. "Hey, it's not like you have to be here at 8 or 9 on the dot, you're all founders of this company, you have just as much of say as that dumb fuck."

"True, but you can't deny that Tommy will throw a fit if we're late, where as you..."

"What can I say? Shelbys love me." I tease and leave the room.

It's just pushing 3 pm when Tommy walks into the room again, the first time I'm seeing him since I freaked out last night. It's been a busy and chaotic day so far, people coming in and out, I had to go deal with someone who wasn't paying up which got a bit messy, then I had to catch up on all the things I didn't do yesterday after leaving prematurely, and to do that with a messy head on top of that is difficult.

Tommy searches the room as he continues to walk through the room until he finds me. "You, my office." He points his finger at me and then towards his office doors.

"No?" I shake my head, quirking my eyebrows.

"It's fucking business that's all." Tommy huffs from across the room, giving me a slight glare before looking down and heading towards his office.

Pushing my chair out, I let out an even bigger huff than Tommy's and stand up, meeting him at his office doors. Our eyes flicker over each other extremely briefly before he opens his door and lets me enter first.

We both stop short at the sight of a man sitting in the chair opposite Tommy's desk.

"Who's that?" I whisper to Tommy, neither of us taking a step further.

"Mr Parsons, wants business with us." Tommy briefly tells me before moving forward. "Good afternoon, Mr Parsons."

"Ah! Good afternoon, not that good in a place like this." Mr Parsons states, looking up at Tommy as he goes to sit in his desk chair.

"Good afternoon." I greet and sit down in the chair next to him.

"Oh, a woman, a pretty woman that is." He comments with a weird smile of his face.

I send a quick look to Tommy who looks just as speechless as I am. "Thank you, business --- what can we do for you?"

Ever since I joined The Shelby Company Limited all those years ago Tommy's always asked me to join in with meetings. Not entirely sure why if I'm honest, he's always said and I quote 'you give me a level headed opinion', whatever that means.

"I need protection, I've recently moved to this shithole and I've heard that you so called Peaky Blinders are the best people for the job." Mr Parsons states, intertwining his fingers over his chest.

Tommy and I share a look at his choice of words.

"What do you need protecting?" Tommy questions, leaning back in his chair.

As Mr Parsons answers Tommy's question in his unique way of vocabulary, I take a good look at him. He's probably at the higher end of middle-aged, a full head of black hair growing white, a rather slim and tall build, well dressed, a thin greying moustache, and a sinister smile. He's not unattractive but there's something just off about his face.

"We will definitely look into that, Mr Parsons, we'll need to assess the situation ourselves first." Tommy says, gesturing with his hands.

"This pretty lady, I hope of course." He gives me a grin, and I grip the arms of the expensive chair to stop myself from showing him what I really think of him.

"No." Tommy bluntly tells him. "My brother will."

"That's a real shame." Mr Parsons sighs and looks at me as if I were his last meal on earth. "I must say, I think it's really great that you have so many women working for you."

"First of all," Tommy starts, leaning back in his chair and lights a cigarette, "They work with me, and secondly if you weren't so creepy and weird, you'd not speak of women as if they're a rare breed of dog."

Mr Parsons takes no notice of Thomas, just keeps his smile as his green eyes take me in, making my skin crawl. If the circumstances wear different and we were in a different environment I'd of either punched the guy in the face or threatened to do something worse by now, but because this is business and he could be important, I can't.

I lead forward in my chair to be closer to him despite my whole body screaming no. "You're coming on a little strong."

"That's just the way I act with beautiful women. A good one only comes around once and a while and you have to snap them up real fucking quick." He replies, with a wink, looking proud of himself.

"And you think it's working?" Tommy sasses and I stifle a chuckle, pursing my lip to conceal my smirk.

"I know it's working." He states over confidently, which even if I were into him, that would be a big turn off.

Like Tommy, he has a certain confidence about him but it's not stifling, big headed, or cocky, it's subtle, he demands it without verbally demanding it, and it's attractive.

Ew, since when did I use my best friend as a model of what is hot and not?

"Business, Mr Parsons, we're here for business." I remind him, sending him a stern look.

"See." Mr Parsons smirks at Tommy, and I roll my eyes as Tommy just stares straight through him, his cigarette seemingly forgotten as it burns in his fingers. "My business need protecting because I've made a few enemies in my year, and people like trying to tear me down."

"Wonder why." I mumble in a huff.

"What was that, sweetheart?"

"Oh nothing, just talking to myself, nothing for you to worry about." I wave him off, throwing a glare at him I how intrusive he's being.

"Anything that concerns your gorgeous mind is my concern, darling." Mr Parsons states softly before he grabs my hand that was dangling off of the arm of my chair.

I throw my head back in annoyance; I'd give anything to show this bitch my knife. I pull hand back, wanting to wash hands immediately.

"Why should we give you our protection?" Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Because, you clearly need it." Mr Parsons says, taking his eyes off of me from practically looking through my clothes to look at Tommy straight in the eyes.

Tommy abruptly gets up and rounds his desk towards me, he nods his head for me to get out of my chair, which I do and Tommy places his hand on my waist as we switch places to me sitting in his chair opposite Mr Parsons to Tommy sitting next to him, I can feel Mr Parsons' eyes on my body as I move. Tommy leans forward in his new chair, looking deep into Mr Parsons' eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He questions, looking scary but it's kinda hot and to be honest, I'm slightly turned on.

"You live in a place like this, it's pretty self explanatory." Mr Parsons replies, crossing his leg over the other.

"I choose to live here, you don't have a choice." Tommy points out, clearly knowing more about him than I do.

"If that's what you want to believe, sure." He chuckles, throwing his head back.

"I'm not accustomed to being spoken to like that, especially not in my own fucking office." Tommy states, shaking his head slightly.

"What? No one been brave enough?" He chortles. "I've always been---"

"No one's seen the next morning after." Thomas cuts him off bluntly, and Mr Parsons stills for a moment.

This is such a dangerous and tense moment yet all I can do is keep my eyes locked on Tommy and all I want in the world right now is a repeat of the other night.

"I'm here to make a deal, Mr Shelby."

"Fine, give me your proposition." Tommy says, leaning back in his seat.

"50 percent of what I can--- no, will bring into The Shelby Company." Mr Parsons states with no remorse.

"And how do you expect to do that?" Tommy practically almost laughs, and I bite my lip to stop my guffaws coming out.

"With my business. If you protect me and people know that we're in bed together, you'll get even more people coming to you, you won't know where to put all the money." He answers, clearly delusional.

"Anything more you want from your so called deal?" Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow.

"A night with the girl."

We both freeze at that, both of us not believing that he just said that.

Tommy's always been protective of me, especially with people like this. I can even remember when I'd get people a year or two above me in school hitting on me or flirting with me, Tommy would always put them in their place and then ask if I was okay.

Yet at the same time, he knows to give me space and when I'm at my breaking point. He knows I don't like being smothered and accommodates for that.

"She's off the fucking table, untouchable." Tommy states with no hesitation or room for arguing. "Get the fuck out of my office." He shakes his head.

"I said sh---"

"Out." I push and he turns to look at me, his eyes widening at the sight of a gun pointed at his head.

"Yo---"

"Out." I push and pull the slide back.

He wordlessly gets up and Tommy and I escort him out as he swears a storm, slamming the door after himself.

Tommy and I stare at each other, alone since last night.

We both act on our own accord as I'm suddenly pressed against the wall, with Tommy's mouth on mine. I grip the back of his neck, my nails tickling his skin as Tommy pins me against the wall with his hips whilst his hands grip whatever he can.

Tommy wastes no time letting his tongue get reacquainted with mine, and I let out a moan at the feeling.

Last time it was soft, gentle, and slow, this time though, this time it's a lot more heated, passionate, and rougher.

"Jump." Tommy mumbles against me, and I do so, wrapping my legs around him as his hands go to my ass to get a steady grip on me.

I can tell he's holding back, almost as if he's refraining himself

"You can be rougher with me, by the way. I'm not made of glass." I quietly tell him, tracing his face with my fingers as we search each others eyes.

"Yeah?" He raises an eyebrow. "How rough?"

"We could set up a safe word?" I suggest.

"Like what?"

"Juggle?"

Tommy laughs before he presses his forehead against mine. "That works."

***

"What the fuck was that?" Tommy asks shocked, trying to catch his breath as his hand trails down the bare skin on my back.

"I don't know but oh my god." I shake my head, resting my forehead on his shoulder.

"This needs to be a regular occurrence, it's too good not to be." Tommy states, throwing his head back in his leather desk chair.

"Definitely." I agree, beginning to catch my breath.

I pull back, looking at Tommy who looks at me with hooded eyes and a small genuine smile, seemingly in a daze; we both are.

"You look pretty like this, no walls up, exposed and genuine." Thomas tells me softly, pushing some hair out of my face before quickly yet gently brushing his lips against mine.

"You're only saying that because I'm naked on top of you." I retort, beginning to have feeling in my legs again after riding him in his chair.

"I've always thought your were the most gorgeous person in the world, you know that, fuck, everyone knows that." He says and my stomach turns into liquid heat.

"Stop." I bashfully reply, burying my face into his neck as he breathes a laugh, continuing to stroke my back.

"You're so cute." He chuckles, kissing the side of my head.

"I've gotta get back to work, as much fun as this was, I like making money." I state, swiftly sliding off his lap and searching for my clothes that are strewn about the room somehow.

"So, what do you think we should do about Mr Parsons?" Tommy asks me, watching me fasten the back of my bra.

"You're not considering doing business with him are you?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"No, fuck no." He shakes his head, getting up out of his chair to also get dressed. "Can't just let him come out of here with no repercussions."

"Probably just scare him, he didn't necessarily do anything, was just extremely unprofessional and disrespectful." I give him my two cents, before slipping my thick and dark jumper over my head. "But if there's anything that needs blowing up, you know where to find me."

Tommy chuckles as he buttons his shirt up.

"Of course." He nods with a smile, watching me slip into my skirt. "I'll send Finn his way."

"Terrifying." I smirk, finding it hard to believe that the boy I watched grow up could be intimidating.

"You seemed scared of him when he knocked on the door." Tommy teases, brushing his hip against mine as he walks past me.

"Well obviously, you had me up against the wall he was on the other side of; anyone could've caught us." I retort, looking in a mirror to sort my hair out as Tommy seems to have a fascination with it.

"Oh, so you're ashamed of me now are you?" Tommy asks, a teasing glint to blue eyes.

"Yeah, you're my dirty little secret." I laugh, before tying my shoes up.

Tommy tilts his head back to laugh as he slips his blazer back on, both of us looking put together again as if we didn't just have mind blowing sex.

"I'm going to have to kick you out of my office if you're going to speak to me like that." Tommy states, as we both near the door.

"We should really stop fucking on here. Next time my house." I tell him, looking up at him and the funny bright look in his eyes.

"Oh, so their is going to be a next time?" Tommy smirks with a raised eyebrow, look in proud of himself.

"You know as well as I do that there's going to be a next time." I send him a knowing look and he subtly licks his lips, looking pleased. "Can't get rid of you Shelbys if I tried."

Tommy laughs and presses a quick smiley kiss to my lips, "Don't ever change."

That's the start of an extremely natural, fulfilling, fun and sensual relationship. Nothing really changed within our friendship, only that we see each other naked a lot more.

It's definitely brought us closer together. We were extremely close before everything happened but now it feels like we've gotten to a new level, definitely a more intimate level but we're closer than ever before.

It kinda feels like we should've been messing around the whole time, it feels silly that we weren't. What we've got is so much fun and honestly it's a nice stress reliever at the end of the day.

It doesn't feel like we're tarnishing our years long friendship, this feels natural and free flowing.

No one knows, we made that a strict rule. We always try to mess around in the privacy of our own homes, but sometimes when it's late and everyone's gone home we can help ourselves or if tensions get high throughout the day.

I'm pretty sure no one knows. When this all started Ada was visiting and we were slightly sloppy with our secrecy, and she kinda cornered Tommy and I at different times but we got away with it as she never mentioned it again. After that we got our act together and any suspicion that was around died.

It's relatively unexpected from us, although we've expressed our attraction and admiration for each other to other people, we've always said we'd never act on it or that it was even possible to feel anything but appreciation for each other.

I've always joked that it'd be awful to be in a relationship with Tommy and that I'd hate to wake up to him everyday.

We also have another rule to not fall in love, which I laughed at when Tommy asked me to not fall in love with him, and then I told him to not flatter himself.

It's been kinda exciting sneaking around with Tommy. I feel like I'm hiding the resident bad boy of the town from my parents, but in this case it's one of the most dangerous people in the country and I'm sneaking around in front of his family, friends, and co-workers.

We generally don't really see each other outside of work besides on the Sundays that he comes over to my house to get his hair cut. Almost everyday we spend a lot of time together when everyone's gone home or ended their work day, we work together a lot, and I guess we see each other at the pub a lot; but to see each other outside of those premises isn't often. I occasionally go to Thomas' house but not by choice, only if he needs me there or there's a crises or an event going on but if I'm honest I don't like his house, which I've told him before and he always laughs at me because of it.

I love my flat in the heart of Small Heath and you couldn't get me out of their if you tried. I've lived there for years and it's my own place to call home. I could easily afford a house like Tommy's but you'd have to kill me to get me out of my flat.

In recent times, my house has sort of become his residence as he's spent so much time here recently. It's not just sex, we'll sometimes go to my house after work or after some evening entertainment, have a meal or just talk which leads to sex, and then half the time Tommy will stay the night; which leads to us having to sneak into work together without raising any suspicions.

Like now, it's honestly too often you'd find Tommy in my bed the morning after as the sun is beginning to shine through my bedroom windows, talking in quiet voices and having a few laughs.

Letting out a soft laugh at Tommy, I rub my hand over my face wake myself up a little bit more.

It's well into the morning, Tommy and I are lying in my bed, surrounded by sun spots that are pouring through my worn French windows, the Birmingham bustle is in full swing a few floors below us that we can hear small swings of from the window that is just slightly open, yet it's calm and quiet in this plant ridden room.

Just our quiet voices as if we were confessing our darkest secrets with the occasional stranger's shouty voice drifting through the window, and soft touches like we're handling a rare and ancient piece of history.

"Do you miss it?" Tommy asks as we're going through old memories.

"I miss my only worries being if Matthew Kennedy liked be back or not and being young and carefree, but I also love my life right now." I reply.

"Oh yeah, you planned out your wedding, how many kids you were gonna have and everything." Tommy laughs, his eyes glazed over as he thinks back to simpler times.

"It was gonna be outside with as many flowers as possible and we were gonna have 3 children, twin girls and a boy." I chuckle along with him, looking up at the crisp white ceiling. "But it turned out he was a shit kisser and only wanted to see my bed."

"I can still remember the black eye you gave him for that." Tommy grins, almost proudly.

"Deserved it, knob." I shake my head as he snickers before pulling me into him with the arm under me, curling me into his side, leaving the cracked open window to tickle my bare back with soft gusts of air.

"You're so violent." Tommy mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to my hairline.

"Only to those that deserve it, which is a lot." I explain, before looking up at him. "So I can see how you got confused in perceiving me as a violent person, it's okay, Tom."

He send me an annoyed look as his fingers trace my back.

"You're so annoying, I've never met someone who annoys me so much." Tommy shakes his head, but despite his words his fingers stay consistent in tracing my back, running over my scars and smooth skin.

"You love it." I grin up at him.

All he does is grunt in response.

We lapse into a comfortable silence, with my head rested on his shoulder and my body pressed against his side whilst he has his arm wrapped around me, almost sending me to sleep again with his soft hands tracing my body.

"I can't believe you took a bullet for me." Thomas breaks the silence, running his fingers over the scar in my back.

"Only by accident." I reply, still slightly pissed off, making Tommy chuckle.

"Well if you hadn't moved I'd be dead." He states, looking up at the ceiling and easy smile on his face.

"And to think that you thought I was joking when it happened and you laughed." I shake my head, not being able help my smile.

I still remember that day as clear as ever.

We were outside the betting den with Arthur and Michael and I went to give Tommy a hug before I said goodbye and left but as we went to embrace each other I got a bullet straight into the back. I originally crashed into him and he thought I was joking before I crashed to the floor and my blood soaked my flowery blouse, that's when the laughter died.

"I said I was sorry!" Tommy claims, sounding anything but sorry. "I took care of you in the end though."

"You tripped as you entered the door, you knob!" I counteract, remembering how I was losing blood rapidly soaking his shirt, and as I was in his arms I laughed when he tripped nearly falling over.

"I was only trying." Tommy pouts, brushing his knuckles against my shoulder.

"Thank you." I breathe a small laugh before pressing a feather like kiss to his collarbone.

"You're not welcome." He jokes, before grabbing his first cigarette of the day.

Rolling out of his arms and onto my side of the bed, I do the biggest stretch known to man along with a loud and long groan. When I open my eyes, Tommy's giving me a look which I only grin at to annoy him, laying my head on my folded forearms as I lie on my stomach; I can't help but sigh as all I want to do I stay in the bed all day, preferably with him, not that I'd ever tell him that.

"Want one?" Tommy asks, offering his cigarettes to me.

"You know I don't smoke before 11." I tell him.

"I still don't get why." He shakes his head, exhaling the smoke.

"Habit." I shrug, knowing that it doesn't make any sense but I still do it anyway.

Running my fingers through my hair, I glance at my wardrobe, knowing that I should get ready sooner than later. Shuffling up onto my knees, I make my way over to Tommy's side of the bed as my wardrobe is situated on the left side of the room, I swing my leg over his, taking a brief pew on his thighs.

"You need your hair cut." I note, combing through his slight bed-head hair with my slender fingers.

"I know, but someone keeps putting it off." Tommy drawls, sending me a brief look be for he taps off the ash from his cigarette.

"It's not my fault that you come over to do it but you end up doing me instead." I chuckle, and he smiles.

"What can I say, it's just more fun."

I roll my eyes with a fond a smile before I go to get off Tommy's lap and venture out of this unbelievably comfortable bed but Tommy stops me by placing his hands on my hips, locking me in place.

"Yes?" I raise an eyebrow.

Tommy presses his lips against mine, pulling me in for a sensual, gentle morning kiss which leaves me breathless and wanting more. So much more. His touch is softer than ever as he cups my face in one hand and trails the other over the skin of my waist.

"That's all." Tommy shrugs, brushing his nose against mine with a small smile.

I mirror his smile and capture his lips one last time before I finally get out of bed, making my way over to my wardrobe and pull both doors open, my eyes darting over the hangers.

Picking out a dark dress with bright coloured flowers that has slight and subtle bell bottom sleeves, I shimmy into that before I make my way across the room to look out the window.

"Aw, it looks like it's going to rain." I frown, closing the window.

Tommy puts out his cigarette and gets out of bed, joining me at the window. "When doesn't it?"

"True," I shrug, then turn my back to Tommy. "Can you do me up?"

"Mhm." He hums and begins to do the buttons of my dress up.

"Thank you." I flash him a grateful smile and make my way over towards my vanity to do my make up as Tommy starts to change into one of the handful of suits that he leaves at my house.

This has sort of become the norm for us, Tommy spends the night, we spend a little too much time in bed in the morning until we ultimately have to get ready do the day and we have some banter whilst we get dressed and ready, the friendly banter is usually halted with kisses that make me feel warm inside as well as make my toes curl which always throws me off with how we can go from being best friends to acting like a couple in seconds.

I guess we are called friends with benefits.

Then we go downstairs and I make him breakfast, we talk about anything that's going on around us, business or people before our day starts and as soon as my front door swings open, we resort back to being best friends like we've always been, as if the night before didn't happen.

It didn't start like that.

At first it was strictly just sex. He'd only stay for a couple hours unless I really wore him out and he'd stay the night as much as he didn't particularly want to. We were kind of keeping it a secret from ourselves, reserving it strictly for behind closed doors, you wouldn't of suspected a thing; we slowly began moving forward, we stayed the night more, touches weren't just for nightfall anymore, and we knew where we stood with each other.

We don't refrain from showing each other affection anymore. Before this all happened Tommy and I would go through phases of giving each other affection but now it's different. I'd place a lot of money down for a bet to see if Tommy could walk past me without brushing his hand over my waist or back; he just subconsciously does it every time.

Sometimes there are moments where Tommy will be speaking with someone across the room or there's a family - even though I'm not family - meeting, and all I wanna do is just kiss him.

"You look nice." Tommy comments, coming up behind me as I'm putting some earrings in in front of my vanity mirror, bowing down to look at what I'm doing.

"Thank you." I reply as Tommy wraps his arms around my waist and leans down to press his chin to my shoulder blade, looking at me through the mirror. "You look alright."

Tommy flashes me a boyish smile before pecking the skin showing through the little triangle cut out in the back of my dress.

***

"See you tomorrow." I send Polly a smile when she makes her way out of the workplace.

"Bye, love." She mirrors my smile and closes the door behind her, leaving just a few Peakys peaking around.

Casting my eyes back to my desk, I carry on with my important task at hand before it swallows me whole.

As time goes by I sink further into my chair, the lights get softer as more people leave and my workload goes down. A loud groan disrupts my flow and it sounds like it's coming from Tommy's office.

Pushing my chair out, I head over Tommy's way not bothering to knock and I find him leaning back in his chair, looking stressed and defeated. His head whips up to look at me, his hard eyes softening when he sees it's just me.

"Why's it so dark in here?" I raise an eyebrow, noting the few lamps that are on in here, casting the room in a subtle orange glow when I walk towards him.

"Hurts my eyes." Tommy grumbles and I round his desk, taking a seat on his lap, his hand grazing my ass in the process.

"What's got you so gloomy?" I enquire, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw, feeling some tension release from his body as he settles into me.

"Just so much to do, so little time." Tommy replies with a soft sigh, placing his hand on my thigh and with his other hand he brushes some hair that got caught on my lipstick before he settles it around me.

"Seems that's how life's going these days." I mumble softly, sweeping the hair off of Tommy's forehead, causing him to close his eyes momentarily. "You should be careful not to overwork yourself, Tom. You make shit decisions when you're tired."

"What can I say? You tire me out." Tommy says with a fond smirk and slightly hooded eyes.

"You're a piece of work, got to put you to bed somehow." I fire back, matching his smirk.

Pressing my lips to the sensitive skin on his neck, working my way up towards his sharp jawline, Tommy lets out a satisfied sigh, beginning to properly relax. Connecting our lips in a sweet and short kiss, Tommy squeezes my thigh as I kiss him one time, two times, three times before going back to his neck.

"Mr Shelby?" Someone calls from behind the closed door with a hesitant knock.

We're too far gone to really care who it is or what they want so Tommy sighs and grants them entrance as I continue to work my magic on him. In comes a new lower ranked Peaky Blinder who's eyes widen at the sight of us, which it would be shocking to see us right now as everyone assumes we're still just best friends but here I am sat comfortably on Tommy's lap, marking him up.

"What can I do for you, Frank?" Thomas questions, trailing his hand up my thigh.

This poor boy is speechless, not knowing how to react and he looks like he wants to get out of this room as soon as possible.

"Uh, I just came in here to tell you that I've uh finished everything you asked me to do and it uhh all went smoothly." Frank states with anything but confidence.

"Great, thanks." Tommy responds, tilting his head to the side to give me more space.

Frank escapes the room as soon as possible and I chuckle at the hard working boy. We both know that he'd never utter a word to anyone about what he saw, that's why we didn't freak out. The boy want to go up in this company and he'll do anything to please anyone higher than him; he's too gentle and easily persuaded for this world.

"Is that everyone gone?" Tommy asks me.

"Should be." I confirm with a small nod.

"Perfect."

The next thing I feel is Tommy's hand creeping up my skirt.

***

"What?" Tommy utters, staring at a lower ranked Peaky Blinder with an ice cold stare.

"It's not my fault! I tried to get him to agree but---"

"Not your fault? This whole plan went down the drain because of you!" Tommy states, not believing the man.

"He had a gun to my head, what was I supposed to do?!" Matthew asks outraged.

"You should taken someone fucking with you, not just thought that you knew best! You need a wake up call because if you want to remain in this company you should know that that shit doesn't fly around here. Could've taken John, Arthur, Cora, fuck, even Michael for fuck sake, not just make decisions as you go along." Thomas retorts, frustrated beyond belief as he rubs his hands over his face.

"What's all the shouting about?" Polly questions as she comes up beside me from being in another room.

"Mathew fucked up and gave away Tommy's plans and shit, along with some other stuff that i don't quite know the details of, so Tom's losing his shit." I fill her in, looking up at her from where I'm sitting and she's standing.

"How the fuck did that happen?" She asks, confused.

"He ran into some trouble on the way or something, I'm not sure, I only came in half way through." I take an unsure guess.

"Men." She shakes her head, letting out a sigh.

"Boys." I correct, making her cackle as she turns to move further into the room.

"I don't need a babysitter, and I sure as hell am not gonna take a female with me." Mathew states in defence, his so called manhood damaged by the thought of a woman being able to do his job better than him.

Tommy huffs a small laugh.

"I wear heels bigger than your dick!" I joke from across the room, not taking his serious comment seriously.

"Just get out of my sight before I force you to." Tommy huffs, turning around and heading up to his office, not being gentle with the door as he closes it behind him.

"I'll go talk to him." I roll my eyes, getting up out of my chair, grabbing the knife from off my desk with me. "And you..." I start, showing Mathew my weapon. "Try not to be a sexist twat next time you're even vaguely threatened by a woman. We hold a lot more power than you can, so remember that next time." I give him a sly wink as I twirl the extremely sharp knife around my fingers.

Heading into Tommy's office, I lean against the door after I close it, watching Tommy lean over his desk, head hung low, tension present in his muscles.

"What is it with people not sticking to the plan?" Tommy grumbles, not bothering to turn around and face me.

"Some people think they know best, I guess." I say, coming up behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist, feeling some tension leave his body.

"He's my employee, this is not what I'm employing him for. I'm not paying him to fuck up." Tommy shakes his head as I press my cheek against his back.

"I know." I say, knowing he doesn't really want me to say anything, he just needs comforting and someone to vent to.

"This whole plan has gone to shit, I've spent weeks trying to perfect it, and the easiest task got fucked." He huffs.

"You shouldn't of trusted him to it, the man can't even tie a tie." I state, looking out of the window.

"I just thought I'd give him a chance, a try, whatever, but I shouldn't of." Tommy replies, lifting his head up.

"You learn from these things, got to know where you stand with the people around you." I tell him, moving my hands from around his waist to hooking under his shoulders.

"I guess, but I just expected more from him." Tommy responds.

And so I let my best friend vent some more, not just about this incident but anything that's on his mind, only replying when I feel the need to, and I think it worked because he's not all worked up anymore, the tension has dropped in his body, and he seems at peace.

"Thank you." Tommy utters, taking my face in his hands.

"For what?" I breathe a small laugh, holding onto his forearms.

"For just always being there for me, day or night, for the big things and the small things, I don't know how I could ever thank you enough." He says, stepping into my bubble, looking more sincere than ever.

"You do the same for me, that's more than enough." I assure, looking deep into his deep blue eyes. "Thank you for being my best friend."

Tommy smiles a small smile, before giving me a kiss, pulling me impossibly close to him, both of our smiles growing.

***

Glancing over towards the clock on the bedside table, seeing the time reads 6:30, I've got a long day ahead of me and I need to catch up on quite a few things as I seem to be slacking because I've been spending all my time with the duvet hogger to the left of me.

Granted it's not my house or room so I have no claim on it, but I seem to spend more time here than my own house; it feels more like home here, anyway.

Letting out a quiet yawn, I look over at Cora next to me, seeing how she's dead to the world looking effortlessly gorgeous whilst she's fast asleep. Her dark hair is splayed out on her pillow, her long eyelashes resting on her cheeks, and her bare shoulders are poking out of the duvet, with a small sun spot shining on her, and she just looks so pretty.

It feels weird not waking up next to her nowadays, it feels so natural seeing her warming up the other half of either mine or her's bed.

Sitting up, I shuffle out of bed and start to get dressed and I can't help but think of how I could get used to this.

Beginning to get ready for the day without waking up Cora, I don't bother with breakfast as I just don't have the time. Doing a once over in the mirror, I head over to Cora who's half awake to let her know that I'm leaving.

"Cora, lovie." I say softly, placing my hand on her exposed arm.

"Hm?" She hums, giving me a peak of her green eyes as she purses her lips briefly.

"'M gonna head into work now, I'll see you later on, eh?" I inform, watching her slowly wake up.

"Okay, have fun." Cora wishes, readjusting the sheet on her bare chest.

"Oh I'll try." I joke, brushing some hair away from her face with a fond smile. "I'll see you later." I tell her, planting a quick kiss on her lips.

She chuckles.

"Look at us, like an old married couple, who'd of thought?"

"Terrifying." I laugh, asking her laugh as I leave the room with a smile on my face that stays on my face until I open the front door, and as I'm walking to work I can't help but think that that doesn't sound so bad.

Leaning back in my chair, I grab a cigarette and flick my lighter against the end, quickly exhaling what I inhale before clearing my throat a little.

"I look forward to what the future holds for us, Mr Shelby." Mr Cliffo states, clearly chuffed with the way this meeting went.

"As do I, Mr Cliffo, as do I." I reply, wanting to get him out of my office as soon as possible as I've still got so much to do today.

"You've got a nice thing going on here, great business attitude, trust worthy co workers, it seems like your family really has its heart in this company." Mr Cliffo drawls, looking around the room.

"Yes, all of us here believe in this company and always want to strive closer towards our goals and ambitions." I nod, bringing my cigarette to my mouth again.

"I have to ask as curiosity has gotten the best of me, where's the woman that usually attends our meetings?" Mr Cliffo questions, and I sigh, it seems like everyone takes interest in my best friend nowadays.

She's extremely captivating and has a mysterious aura to her, Cora just has this way of drawing you in and making you want to know as much about her as possible.

"Busy." I inform, watching him carefully, how he has a ghost of smile on his face and seemingly looking back on his few interactions with her.

"I've missed her little quips and ideas." He tells me.

Widening my eyes as I let out an exasperated huff, I stand up and head towards the door, hopefully giving him the hint to get the fuck out of my office.

Which he does, so he stands up whilst doing the buttons of his blazer up, approaching me by the door.

"Pretty little thing she is." He says fondly, but not in a creepy way just a genuine compliment.

"She's certainly a head turner." I nod, not being able to deny it.

"Well, I must get going, errands to run." Mr Cliffo states and opens the door. "I'm sensing a promising future here, Mr Shelby."

"I'll look forward to it." I say, escorting him out to hurry him up.

We enter the main room where everyone seems to be, the shouting across the room and bustling noises greet us.

"Have a good day, Mr Shelby." Mr Cliffo bids and we shake hands briefly before he leaves, leaving me to head into John's office to relay some information about the meeting I just had.

"Good meeting?" John questions as I lean against the door frame.

"As good as a meeting with Mr Cliffo can go." I half joke, folding my arms.

"Still a boring middle aged fuck?" John laughs, dropping his pen.

"More of less." I confirm with a small chuckle.

I'm half way through telling John about what happened and our plans when there's a commotion on the other side of the room. I look over my shoulder and find Cora pinning Mr Cliffo against the wall with the knife that she keeps in her stockings under his chin

He looks sheepish, slightly terrified, and completely taken of guard whilst she looks dangerous, pissed off and not the slightest bit hesitant.

"What the fuck is goin' on?" John enquires, joining me in the doorway. "Fuck yeah, I love when she brings the knives out." He practically cheers for her.

"Touch me or any of the woman in here again and you won't see the next sunrise." Cora promises, and in some weird way I can't help but smile a little as she looks so natural at this.

"What's some woman gonna do?" Mr Cliffo attempts to belittle her in order to save his so called manhood.

That's not what he was saying about her earlier.

Cora sharply brings her knee to his crotch making him pale and let out an agonising groan. The impact enough to make any man wince.

"First time a woman's touched your dick in years, is it?" She taunts, pushing the knife into his skin.

He can't get any words out, clearly in too much pain.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" She all but smirks. "Get out of here before you do something you'll regret." Cora states and Mr Cliffo stumbles out of the door, no doubt planning to avoid this building for the rest of his life.

"Fucking hell, I learnt the day I met her not to fuck with Cora Witton and I'm still scared of her." John tells me, subtly interlacing his hands over his crotch making me breathe a laugh.

"Ladies." Cora grins at the women who she just protected from Mr Cliffo, and they mirror her smile.

"She may be small but she will hurt you." I comment watching her tuck her knife back in her stocking, not caring that people can see.

"No hesitation." John adds before he goes back to his desk.

"What the fuck were you thinking doing business with him?" Cora questions as she comes up to me, not mad just curious.

"We've worked with him before, thought I'd take it further." I shrug.

"And after each meeting he grabs my ass." She rolls her eyes, mirroring my folded arms.

"That's him?" I raise an eyebrow, surprised.

"Kinda." She nods, widening her eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't know, lovie." I say softly before kissing her cheek breifly. "This is why I need you in my meetings, give me honest and better judgement."

"Speaking of which, business is done and dealt with, Finn and Isiah are just finishing it up." Cora informs.

"Did it go smoothly?" I question, staring down at her.

"More or less." She nods and she's about to explain before Michael calls her over. "I'll tell you later." Cora tells me, gently fixing my tie before she heads over to Michael.

"You're close." John states, a teasing tone creeping into his voice along with the growing smirk.

"Fuck off." I grumble and leave his doorway, entering mine.

***

"Hi." Cora sings when she enters my office, an unfamiliar baby on her hip.

"Who's this?" I question, leaning back in my chair.

"My neighbour's son." She says, tucking some blonde hair behind the baby's ear.

"It's illegal to take people's children, Cora." I tell her, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

"My neighbour needed someone to watch him for like 15 minutes." She informs, sitting down in the chair opposite me, situating the young boy on her lap who's fascinated with the bracelet on her wrist.

"What's his name?"

"Ronnie."

"Is this the neighbour that complained about the noise?" I ask, with a cheeky smirk

"Yeah, I still can't look them in the eye." She bashfully answers, smiling through the pain.

I laugh as I look back on that experience, it traumatised her so much that we did all our rendezvous on my house for the next month until people started getting suspicious so we went back to her house most of the time.

"You do a lot of things, Cora, yet you can't look your neighbour in the eyes because they heard us one time." I state, amused.

"Uh, I highly doubt it was just the once." She confidently claims.

"Why don't you just move somewhere more remote?" I suggest, already knowing the answer.

"I can't! I love my place, you know that." Cora replies, readjusting Ronnie on her lap. "Isn't that right, Mr Ronnie?" She coos.

I rest my chin on my palm, hiding my smile behind my knuckles. She looks like such a natural with him and seeing her with a baby makes a weird thought come into mind and I can't help but entertain that thought.

Half of me and half of her, dear god help the child who's cursed with that.

A sarcastic and cocky bastard riddled with trauma and seemingly never ending problems.

I'm not planning on having a child with Cora ever, but the idea is entertaining and gives me an odd feeling.

She'd be an amazing mum, she would do anything for anyone that she loves, and to receive her love is one of the greatest things in the world. As I'm looking at her now, I want some of that.

I'd like a beautiful baby who's half me and half her.

"What you daydreaming about, Shelby?" Cora brings me out of the thoughts I'd never utter to her.

"Nothing." I shake my head, and try to busy myself with the work in front of me.

"In all the years I've known you, Tommy, there's always something in your head." Cora says knowingly, a teasing smile creeping on her face.

"Not true." I deceive.

"I'll find out, some day, I always do."

Not even over my dead body.

"Are you coming over tonight?" She questions, crossing her legs.

"Depends, do you want me to?" I retort, looking over at her.

"I think you know the answer to that." Cora tells me, meeting my eyes, a sly glint prevalent in her eyes.

"No?" I guess.

"Of course I do." She chuckles, her smile lighting up the room.

"Tell you what, I'll finish this in the next... 20 minutes/half an hour then we'll head over to your flat, and see where the evening takes us." I suggest, despite the fact that I still got at least a third of work to do today but this girl just does things to me.

"You and I both know exactly where the evening will take us." Cora laughs, running her hand through her hair.

"The sooner we're out of here, the sooner we can get there." I reply, sending her a knowing look.

"Sounds like a plan." Cora grins, gathering Ronnie before leaving the room.

***

"Ready?" I ask, brushing my hand over Cora's shoulder as I walk past her.

"Mhm, just need to give this to Michael." She hums, getting out of her chair to head over to Michael as I get my coat.

"Where are you two going?" Polly muses, leaning back almost smugly in her chair, a cigarette burning in her fingers.

"Home." I answer, turning to look at her.

"Early for you." Polly acknowledges, looking as if she knows something I don't.

"Maybe so, Pol, maybe so." I nod as Cora walks over towards us.

"Ready?" She questions and I nod before I guide us out of here by draping my arm over her shoulders, opening the front door, seeing its beginning to rain. "Shit, I didn't bring a coat." Cora pouts.

"I did." I smugly say, stepping outside and she tugs at the sleeves of her dress until she steps out, too.

We begin to walk the 15 minute walk to Cora's place, chatting about random things on the way, the rain only getting heavier; luckily we're sheltered by the roofs of the houses hanging over the pavement.

"No one annoys me more than my sister, not even you and you're really high up there, like too high." She tells me, making me grin, that's my favourite pastime.

"It's just so easy to do, nothing amuses me more than when you're annoyed." I chuckle, looking down at her annoyed glare and feigning pain when she punches me in the arm, watching her fold her arms to keep herself warm.

"I retract my statement, you annoy me the mos---" she cuts herself off when I drape my coat over her shoulders. "Tommy Shelby, you're so romantic." Cora laughs, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"I try." I mumble, with a small smile as we turn a corner.

"Fuckin' hell, rain's giving no mercy." She points out, and we both look out at the rain that's pelting down, making puddles and leaking through unlucky people's roofs.

Luckily we're sheltered by said roofs; for now.

Grabbing Cora's hand, I pull her out of the protection of the roofs into the rain, making her squeal and laugh which is just music to my ears as I laugh along with her.

"Tommy!" She exclaims and I pull her into my arms, pressing her against me as our hair and clothes get soaked.

"Cora!" I imitate to annoy her, as she wraps her arms loosely around my neck, bringing us even closer. I look into her eyes, seeing how carefree she looks, how much her face is lit up, the smile that always makes me weak in the knees, and how happy she looks, it makes me unbelievably happy. "Kiss me."

"What? Out in open? People can see us, rumours will spread." Cora tells me as she sweeps some soaked hair off my forehead and to the side.

"So? People are already suspicious." I shrug, cupping her cheek. "Kiss me."

She breathes a laugh before pressing her lips to mine, the both of us smiling into it.

I've never smiled as much as the time I spend with this girl.

We stand in the middle of the road, raining cats and dogs on us, intertwined with each other, more than just physically, out in the open.

Pulling back slowly, we take each other in with soft eyes and smiles, and as I'm looking at her right now, all I can feel is love.

I'm in love with my best friend.

Deeply in love.

I could call myself crazy but the way she's looking at me right now and how she's making me feel, I'd say she feels the exact same.

The words are on the tip of my tongue, aching to be said but I'm not brave enough, so I settle with kissing her again instead.

I'm scared to the bone but I'm also kind of revelling in it as it's a new feeling and fuck does it feel good.

"You look pretty in the rain."

"As do you."

***

After a successful business move that we've all been hard at work on for the past month, that called for a celebration, right? Which is why we're in The Garrison this evening, nestled in the private room full of Shelbys, Grays, and a few other Peakys including myself.

Which is predictably chaos.

"To business." Michael toasts, holding his drink up.

"To business." We all toast, clinking glasses.

"Michael, for fucks sake, you've made that toast like 10 times tonight." John groans, rubbing his forehead clearly exasperated.

"I'm a little drunk, and you keep joining so you're all as bad as me." Michael states, and there's some truth to his words.

We're all a little drunk, some more than others. Not to name names or anything but I'm definitely looking at Arthur, Finn and possibly Polly, not to mention Michael. The rest of us are tipsy, definitely feeling the buzz in our systems, but not off our face.

Although that might change as the night goes on.

"To business!" Arthur vindicates, and I groan, making Tommy chuckle.

"On behalf of my family, I am so sorry." Tommy jokes from beside me.

"What is it with you Shelbys and your liquor?" I question, leaning my head on his shoulder as I look at him.

"Born with it in our bloodstreams." Tommy tells me, brushing his fingertips against my arm as his arm is draped around the back of my part of the booth.

We're kind of in our own bubble in the corner, occasionally piping up with a quip or an opinion but we're mainly talking to each other like we've always done in these sort of circumstances.

"I assume you came out of the womb with a cigarette too, right?" I tease, crossing my legs.

"Yeah, the midwife was waiting with a match." He jokes with a small laugh, his smile staying on his face.

"I can't imagine you as a child. Of course I've known you since we were in year 9, and I'd seen you around a few times in secondary school, but to imagine you as an 8 year old is really hard." I tell him, smiling at the thought.

"Well first of all I was adorable, let's get that out of the way." Tommy states, trying to conceal his smirk.

"You still are!" I tease, earning myself a blank look.

"The ladies loved me." He continues.

"Even with your bad haircut?" I laugh, I've heard so much about his haircuts in the past that family members did for him.

"That's what brought them in, you whore." Tommy laughs which makes me laugh.

"Of course, all that extra hair just propelled these so called ladies to you."

"Exactly." He confirms as if it's obvious. "I've heard stories from your childhood from your family or partners." Tommy informs, a mischievous look in his eyes

"You know only what I want you to know."

"You're forgetting that I know every single thing about you, everything." Tommy says, nudging his knee against mine.

"I highly doubt that, every single thing? Really?" I question, nudging him back.

"Yeah."

"How old was I when I stopped hating you?" I test him, turning slightly to look at him.

"Trick question, you never stopped." Tommy answers, grinning because he knows he's right and I huff. "Yet you still suck my dick almost every night." He mumbles, making me punch him which only makes him laugh.

"I don't hear you complaining." I retort.

"I'd never." Tommy shakes his head. "Why don't we go back to your place and I'll show you how appreciative I am." He suggest, placing his hand on my thing under the table.

"Don't you want to celebrate with your family?" I question, looking over at everyone who's more or less plastered.

"Lovie, you are my celebration." Tommy tells me fondly, tucking some hair behind my ear.

This is the thing with Tommy. He can make you feel so special and make you feel like you're the only person in the room, despite the fact that it's filled with loads of people. He can set off a load of fireworks inside of you without even really trying.

"How about you meet me in the back room in five minutes..." Tommy suggests, sending me a mischievous smile.

"Sounds like a plan." I reply, matching his smile.

"I'm gonna go get more alcohol." Tommy announces, but no one's really listening, and Tommy leaves the room, leaving me alone with his family.

"I'm so glad that I never have to talk to another Bulgarian in my life." Finn says, as I tune into the family's conversation.

"What if you fall in love with one one day?" I question and he turns to me.

"Simply impossible." Finn shakes his head.

"You can't control who you love; you can lie to yourself, deny yourself of it, but it'll always be there." I tell him, sitting up straight ready to go.

"You can definitely control who you love, I can also choose who, when, and where." Finn disagrees, taking a sip of his drink.

"Okay, say you chose to fall in love with the old lady that lives next door to you. Could you do that?" I question, watching him falter as everyone chuckles at him.

"What do you know about love anyway?" Finn asks in a grumble, downing the rest of his drink.

I know a little something about unrequited love.

"I got proposed to." I retort, sending him an obvious look.

"Which you laughed at before walking away from him." He argues, with a laugh.

"Broke the poor guy's heart in front of everyone." Arthur stifles a laugh, refilling his glass.

"Who proposes after 2 years together?" I question, folding my arms.

"Loads of people." John answers, an amused look on his face.

"Shit, maybe I don't know much about love." I join the laughter almost sheepishly.

"I love being in love, it's one of the best feelings in the world." Polly states, leaning back in her chair with a dazed look in her eyes.

"Love is whenever something happens in your life, good or bad, you immediately want to tell them. When you know you can go to them for anything. Knowing you can do anything and they'll always be there for you. When they can always make you laugh, despite anything. Just feeling at home with them, basically. Love is when they're your home." Arthur despite being drunk, eloquently speaks.

My mind instantly goes to Tommy.

He's all of that.

Always has been.

"Love is never far, it's always closer than you think." Polly states, and I look over at her and find that she's already looking at me. Her eyes boring into my soul.

"The only things I love in my life is me and my flat." I announce, and get up to go meet Tommy.

"What about me?" Finn questions, looking up at me with puppy-like look adorning his face.

"Aww." I smile and ruffle his hair. "No."

Opening the door to be greeted with the rest of The Garrison that isn't closed off, I step out and close the door behind me, my eyes scanning the room. Rolling my eyes when I see Tommy talking to some guy at the bar.

He spots me as I approach him, a small smile quirking at his mouth.

"Sorry, I've got some business to attend to." Tommy excuses himself and swiftly yet subtly follows me through the room.

"Is that what I am now? Business?" I tease, as we're out of earshot from anyone around us.

"No, you're a lot more fun than business." Tommy says, grabbing my hand as we push past the doors that lead to the backrooms down the long corridor.

"I don't know, sometimes you get quite excited when things are going well." I tell him, making him laugh which resonates in this empty corridor. "Although---"

I'm cut off by Tommy pressing me up against the wall as he attaches his mouth to mine eagerly. Cupping his face, I match his pace and pull him closer as he buries his fingers in my hair and pins me against the wall with his hips.

"You're so pretty, lovie." Tommy whispers, making me grin.

"So are you." I chuckle, knowing how much he hates when I call him pretty despite the tiny blush that flushes his cheeks.

"You just love to remind me that you're my best friend, don't you?" He asks with a smile.

"Yeah." I laugh and kiss him again before Tommy begins to guide us to a more private area as our kiss begins to heat up and hands are roaming.

The door slams against the wall as we enter a storage room that is surprisingly clean, the heavy wooden door closes itself and Tommy and I stumble our way through the room as our bodies heat up until we hit a wall, I let out a breathy moan at the sensation of being able to feel ever curve and dip of Tommy.

Disconnecting our lips, Tommy dips his head to attach his mouth to my neck as I pant, beginning to fiddle with the buttons of my dress.

"Uh, Tommy? Cora?" A voice hesitantly speaks up, and we freeze.

You could hear a pin drop.

I look to my left and see Michael staring at us with wide eyes, looking scared yet too shocked to really form an opinion.

"Hi, Michael." I sheepishly greet as Tommy drops his head to my shoulder in defeat briefly.

"Has this been going on this whole time?" Michael asks after some silence, rubbing his nose.

"What are you even doing here anyway, Michael?" Tommy asks, turning to face him.

"I was uh... meeting a friend." Michael says. "Not your kind of friend though."

I look past him and see the small container splayed out on some stacked up pallets. "Friend, really?"

"Yep." He nods, inhaling sharply as he refuses to look us in the eyes.

"Not doing lines off old rotting pallets?" I suggest, putting my weight on one foot.

"To--- Who are you to judge me when you guys are fucking or whatever under people's noses?" Michael accuses, acting out. "Has this been going this whole time? You've been sneaking around for years?"

"What does it matter to you?" Tommy and I say simultaneously.

"Are guys together or what?" Michael questions, looking between us.

Tommy and I look at each other, not being able to come up with an answer.

"How does it concern you with what we do privately?" Tommy questions, looking pissed.

"I don't know about priva---"

I cut Michael off as I push him against the wall, swiftly pulling my knife out and holding I under his chin whilst I have my hand pressed against his collar. "You say a fucking word to anyone, your mum, your friends, your butcher, your fucking dentist and you'll be fresh meat." I warn as I look into his blown out eyes. "Understand?"

"Cora---"

"Understand?" I repeat, pressing the blade into his skin.

"Yes, I won't utter a word!" Michael conforms, keeping eye contact.

"Good." I grin, and affectionately clap his cheek. "Tell your mum I'll be in late tomorrow." I inform as I put away my knife before stepping back to Tommy, who runs his hand down my back and rests it on the small of my back.

"We're trusting you, Michael." Tommy tells him, giving him a stern look before we head out the door.

"Stay off the snow will you, Michael?" I suggest over my shoulder before the door slams shut.

"You're so violent, like my little weapon." Tommy teases, intertwining our fingers and I squeeze his hand lightly.

"How much do you trust him?" I question, as we walk down the long corridor.

"As long as we've got you around, I'd say 100 per cent." Tommy jokes. "As long as we don't have any interactions like that again, I'd say he's pretty trust worthy."

"Right." I nod, taking in his words. "Back to my house?"

"We're still celebrating, aren't we?" Tommy states, making me chuckle but it's short lived as I can't help but frown when he drops my hand as we enter the open again.

My heart sinks.

"Just wanna remind you that we've got a wedding next week." Tommy says and I roll my eyes.

You forget one important shoot out that's been planned for months and suddenly he has to remind you of every important thing for the rest of time.

"You didn't propose though?" I reply, gliding through groups of people.

"I didn't?" He raises an eyebrow, looking down at me with a small smirk.

"No, you didn't." I shake my head, smiling.

"Oh, shame, you look good in white."

***

"Well Arthur, the big day's come." I say, as I flip my collar up to put my tie on.

"Indeed, it has indeed." Arthur nods, taking a seat on the large ottoman in the middle of the room.

"Our Arthur's finally settling down, eh?" John smirks as he looks in the mirror to do his hair again.

"God help Linda." Finn grumbles, slipping into his blazer.

"Already is." John widens his smirk.

"I don't see any of you getting married so fuck off." Arthur replies, disregarding John.

"To be fair, he's got a point... god can only do so much." I state, tightening my tie and putting my collar down.

"Oi, you can barely keep your woman on the reigns." Arthur retorts, pointing a finger at me, as the others snicker.

"I've not got a woman." I reply although I know who and what they're talking about.

"You know, the girl you're always around." Arthur tells me, and I huff with a small smile at their tomfoolery.

"You mean the girl who punched you and you practically cried when she was like 14?" I ask, pulling my cigarettes out.

"She'd fucking kill you if she knew you were talking about her like this, Arthur." Finn says, smirking.

"Even if she were my so called woman, not that you'd ever be able to make her conform to that title, she cannot be owned. Not just because of feminism but she's too wild for that, she'd also punch me and that hurts." I state, lighting my cigarette.

"I think it's the other way 'round." John muses, gesturing with his cigar. "She's got you on the reigns."

"Have any of you lot seen Cora?" Polly asks as she bursts into the room, dressed in a fancy dress.

"No."

"Not seen her all morning."

"Not seen her since this morning."

"Me either."

"Fuck sake. She can do everything but turn up on time." Polly grumbles, shaking her head. "Well come on then. Time's getting on and the bride won't wait forever."

We all exit the room one by one, following Polly through the building but we stop short when we see Cora stepping into the entrance hall, looking up at the ceiling as she lights a cigarette, showcasing the thin but long scar on her throat that gave me nightmares when it happened.

"Shelbys!" She beams when she sees us, taking a drag of her cigarette, looking temptingly appetising.

"What time do you call this, Witton?" Polly barks, sending daggers Cora's way.

"There's plenty of time! Don't worry about it." Cora waves Polly off but all I can focus on is how good she looks.

Her dress has a few layers of thin, see through tulle with flowers embroidered into it, the underneath is a champagne sort of pink coloured dress that shines through subtly, the length sinks all the way down to her feet, it's cinched in at the waist with a controversial slit at the side showcasing her leg, and her sleeves are made of the same see through tulle that hangs off her shoulders to tickle her elbow in waves. Her hair is pinned up with a handful of thick curls dangling around her face, and her make up is subtle which really makes her green eyes pop.

She looks like an angel to put it simply.

"Careful, you'll catch flies." John smirks, elbowing me.

I push him back making him knock into Finn which causes him to start an argument.

The art of diversion.

"Nice dress." I comment when she looks over at me.

"Thanks, it has pockets." Cora replies, giving me a demonstration.

"Thought it was supposed to be the bride who's the prettiest today." I state quietly as no one seems to be listening to us.

"Aw, you're too kind." She smiles before pecking my cheek and guiding us towards the church.

***

An around of applause and cheers resonate in the tall church as Arthur and Linda kiss, I can't help but smile at the happy couple.

"How long?" Tommy jokes when he mumbles into my ear.

"Stop!" I laugh, continuing to clap.

"We're married!" Arthur announces as he and Linda turn to face everyone with grins.

Another round of applause goes around the room, mixed with whistles, hoots, and cheers. Arthur and Linda walk down the aisle as a newly wedded couple before everyone slowly begins to follow them for photos outside.

"I can't imagine you getting married." Tommy states when we stand up.

"I'm hurt, Thomas." I reply, shuffling out of the pew.

"You seem too... independent and strong." Tommy digs himself a bigger hole.

"What? So the point of marriage is supposed to break me?" I question with a chuckle.

"No, just the traditional way is that you'd stay at home, looking after the children, cooking or baking, and waiting for your husband to come home." He answers. "And that's not you... but I like that about you."

"I'm never stopping for some man, men don't deserve rights." I shake my head.

"Oh right." Tommy laughs, slinging his arm around my shoulders as we walk down the aisle. "I guess you work with a lot of males so you can say that."

"Thank you, for letting me, a woman, know what I can say and what I'm allowed to say, thank you husband." I joke and he bumps his hip against mine in response.

"The nagging wife part though, you've got that down." Tommy replies, weaving us through people as I lace our hands together with the hand that was dangling in front of my chest from where his arm is draped over my shoulders.

"Fuck off." I laugh, the fresh spring air hitting my face as we enter the outside, gathering at the back of the large group of people posing for photos.

"You love it." He grins before pressing a kiss to my cheek as I laugh.

A flash blinds me momentary, and I inwardly groan.

A few more photos, Tommy and I trying to annoy each other, and laughs later and we head off to the party.

***

"I've known Arthur since I was like 15, it feels weird to watch him get married after all this time." I tell a stranger that I've been talking to for the past 10 minutes.

"I've grown up with Linda, I've not heard the end of this wedding since she was 10." Linda's cousin makes a joke which I fake laugh at, before taking a sip from my flute of champagne. "Are you getting married anytime soon?"

"Oh, no, god no." I shake my head, chuckling.

"Really? Aren't you with Arthur's brother, what's his name? Thomas is it?" She questions.

"Tommy? We're not really together, well we aren't... Thomas is amazing but..."

"But?" She smiles warmly as if she's just done something.

Why aren't we together is the better question, Tommy is everything I've ever wanted, he respects me, makes me feel like I'm more special that I am, is always there for me no matter what, and can make me feel so carefree, I'm in love with him but he's just not.

"But he isn't one for relationships." I answer. "I'm gonna go annoy some of your family, you make me think when I'm here to get drunk. I don't like that."

Her smile falls and I float off towards a group of strangers, ready to judge.

"I heard that the Shelbys shot someone who accidentally bumped into them once." A middle aged man says quietly.

Perfect, this is the group I want to annoy.

"Really? I heard that they give their children guns." A little younger woman matches his tone.

"That's nothing, I heard that they stab children who beg." I cut in, doing this big exaggerated look around the circle.

"I heard that they hurt people who gossip." Polly comes out of no where, and I can't help but smirk at her when she meets my eyes.

"Are you two Shelbys?" A snooty woman questions with a sigh before sipping her drink.

"No." I answer, which isn't a lie.

"I'm Arthur's aunt and she's his brother's girlfriend." Polly states and I glare at her, before tucking my hair behind my ear and subtly flipping her off, which she suppresses a smirk at.

"Oh, I see. You seem like lovely people." Another woman replies with a tight lipped smile.

"We are." I nod.

"If you stay on the right side of us." Polly adds, lighting a cigarette.

"But if you don't, we'll drag you through hell."

"Simple really." Polly shrugs lightly.

"Of course... we're family now, nothing but love." The same woman replies with a nervous laugh.

As Polly makes them more uncomfortable I look over my shoulder at Tommy across the room, who's sitting at a large table with a few people but I don't think he's interacting with anyone really, cigarette and liquor in hand. He gives me a wink which makes me smile, and he gestures for me to come over with a nod of his head.

Leaving the group and Polly, I cross the room all the way to my best friend who takes a drag from his cigarette as I stand behind him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, letting my hands dangle above his chest life a necklace.

"Are you done antagonising Linda's family?" Tommy questions with a tiny chuckle.

"Not yet. They're so judgy." I reply, accepting Tommy cigarette when he offers it to me.

"Where do you think Linda gets it from?" He rhetorically asks.

"You look very pretty." I inform, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead when he looks up at me.

"If I look pretty you must be the prettiest person in the world." Tommy says, fiddling with my hands.

"Always a charmer you Shelbys." I tease.

"Eh we know how to talk the talk." He jokes, squeezing my hand. "Do you wanna dance?"

I look out at the dance floor where all the couples seem to be, it's a little bit crowded but seems comfortable.

"Sure." I nod and Tommy stands up before offering his hand with a boyish smile.

I match his smile and take his hand, Tommy leads us to the dance floor where I place my hand on his shoulder, keeping the other comfortably in his hand, whilst Tommy places his hand on my lower back. The song is quite a fast paced one, so there's no room for a slow dance.

Tommy and I expertly shuffle through the dance floor, him twirling me out every now and then, as we talk and laugh. "Why are old ladies so judgy?"

"I don't know, their better days are behind them and they can't get over that." Tommy offers an amused suggestion.

"I think it's because they---" I cut myself off with a squeal when Tommy surprises me by twirling me out into the dance floor making me laugh. "Give me a warning next time!"

He just smiles down at me as he looks into my eyes. "No, I like making you laugh."

"You always make me laugh, especially with your questionable choices." I tease, squeezing his hand. "I mean what were you thinking letting Finn---"

"I'm not going into this again, he wanted to do it and who am I to say no?" Tommy replies with a light laugh. "That would make both of us a hypocrite."

"We were more mature at the time..."

"Oh really? That's what you call maturity?" Tommy questions amused, as we swiftly move through the crowd as the song begins to end.

"We may have broken a few things but there's no harm done." I state, letting Tommy spin me one last time before a slower song comes on and we match our dancing to the rhythm.

"Sure, no harm done." He mocks me with a laugh, which makes me laugh.

Thomas sways us through the bunches of people as we lapse into a comfortable silence, settling into our own worlds.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, Cora." Tommy tells me, continuing to sway us as he looks deep into my eyes and it feels like he's looking into my soul.

All I can do is smile.

"Yeah? You think?" I chuckle and he matches my smile.

"Mm." He hums, with a nod.

"That's alright, because I think I'm falling in love with you, too." I reply, causing him to break out into the biggest smile.

We pause our moving, standing still amongst all the other couples dancing. Tommy cups my face with his hands and goes to kiss me. "What about your family?" I question, when were mere inches away.

He smiles. "Fuck 'em, they all practically know anyway."

I reply by closing the gap between us, kissing my best friend in the middle of the dance floor as couples dance around us whilst we're stood still, in the midst of his brother's wedding. Tommy's thumb brushes my cheekbone gently as we stand in our own bubble, oblivious to what's going on around us, smiling into our kiss.

"I love you, Cora Witton." Tommy utters, pressing his forehead against mine with a smile.

"I love you, Tommy Shelby." I utter back, kissing him again which makes my toes curl.

"What do you say we finish this dance, get a little drunk, and then go home?" Tommy suggests, tucking some hair behind my ear. "If you can handle Linda's stare that long that is because from where I'm looking, she doesn't look that happy that we stole the spotlight from her on her wedding day." Tommy chuckles, looking over my shoulder at his family.

I look over at them too, seeing how they look shocked yet look like they expected it, and I meet Linda's glare, happy at how I've pissed her off.

"You're such an attention whore." I joke, looking back at Tommy.

"You know it." He smirks and begins to sway us again.

It feels like everything I've ever worked for in my life has led up to this moment. This is what I get after years of struggling, and fuck is it worth it.

"I want this song to play at our wedding."

"Oh, we're getting married now are we?" I chuckle fondly, liking the sound of that.

"If all goes to plan, yeah."

[tempenensis]

Nanami: the duality(s) of man

Nanami Kento (七海 建人) is arguably one of the more complex characters in jjk. A lot of contrasts are packed in one character, it’s actually amazing. And yet, he is still so relatable. 

Nanami’s name in kanji is actually interesting. His family name, Nanami (七海) is written with “seven” (七) and “sea” (海) kanji, but it also can be read as “seven” (七 = nana) “three” (三 = mi), a suggestion to his cursed technique. His given name, Kento (建人), is written with “build” (建) and “man” (人) kanji. 

1. Office worker and Grunt work

Nanami is introduced by Gojo as his peer and junior, a trusted and reliable friend. He is depicted in a full suit and tie, with neat haircut - nothing less than salaryman image Gojo calls him. Without his unique glasses, you won’t be able to differentiate him from common office worker. He’s the stiff seriousness formality in contrast to Gojo’s easy, overly friendly and overly informal attitude. Even during their first meeting, he demands a formal introduction from Itadori. He also returns Itadori’s formal introduction with one of his own, even if it’s used for comedic effect.

“Where moderate effort is sufficient, use moderate effort.”

His words in answer to Itadori’s excitement and going all out when the boy is finally getting his chance for mission in the field. Only people who is familiar with routine, boring works in office can say things like this. Routine work is indeed, sufficient with moderate effort, nothing anyone should exert too much effort. In addition, during combat or “work”, he is strict with his time allocation. At a glance, it looks like another part of his salaryman image - even if it is actually something else. 

All these formal conducts are direct reflection of his nickname of an ex-salaryman. But compared to his image, his cursed technique is far from the image of an office worker. 

Nanami’s innate technique is called Ratio cursed technique (十劃呪法 : Tookaku juuhou), where he forcibly creates a weak point in his opponent by dividing them into tenths and hit it on the critical point of seven-to-three. He uses a wide sword wrapped in seals for it. It is a technique that demand physical strength and excellent eye-hand coordination of the user - which are usually not attributed to office worker, but rather, manual laborer who uses their physical strength.  

Unfortunately, I’m working overtime now

Here, the original text of Nanami’s Overtime Work is 時間外労働 (: jikangai roudou). 労働 (roudou) can be translated both as general term of working and manual labor. During Overtime work, the technique he uses is Collapse (瓦落瓦落 = garagara, literally “Tile fall”, but it’s also an onomatopoeia for rattling sound), which is fundamentally similar to Itadori’s attack - a physical blow from his fist infused with huge amount of cursed energy.

2. Anti-social and people-magnet

Nanami is someone who thought himself to be distanced from people, either normal people or the same jujutsushi, but in actual... well, people-magnet is not the right term but Nanami is someone who is attracted to people. He come off as stiff and cold, but he is highly empathic to others, just like Itadori. 

Right on their first meeting, after introducing himself, Nanami said that he doesn’t acknowledge Itadori as a jujutsushi, because even if he doesn’t like it, he still follow the rules. He asks Itadori to prove himself despite housing Sukuna. 

Itadori is Sukuna’s vessel. He should be executed immediately as per jujutsu rules. It’s only because Gojo’s protection that he still breathes, even get to be educated as jujutsushi. Not too long ago before this moment, he was killed by a special-grade that Gojo suspected to be a foul play from the upper management. And even after this, Itadori is targeted by other jujutsushi who want to kill him without first trying to know the human he actually is. 

Nanami at the first glance looks like he is too serious, too fixated to the rules imposed to jujutsushi. However for Nanami, a rule-abiding jujutsushi, willing to cooperate with Itadori - the Sukuna’s vessel that others want to executed - on a mission, give him a chance to prove himself, and even teach him stuffs, speaks how he is actually not so cold-hearted as he makes himself to be.

At first, on the mission, they don’t get along. Itadori who can make friends with people he only just met in a heartbeat, has a hard time reading Nanami. Not only because of their different personality, but Nanami is also protecting Itadori as a child. For an adult to be able to see the Sukuna’s vessel as an actual child, even protecting him, it really speaks something. 

And further down, he also protects Itadori as the more experienced jujutsushi. He wants to protect Itadori’s innocence as young jujutsushi as long as possible.

Itadori is highly empathic of other people. His motivation is to give people proper death - whoever they are. Nanami realizes this when Itadori gets angry about the transfigured human they fight in the cinema, that their death are wrong in his eyes. This mission is the worst early mission for Itadori - someone who is highly empathic but has to face an enemy that transfigure human. Killing people will hurt him emotionally. That is why Nanami forbid Itadori to go after Mahito with him.  

Nanami works as jujutsushi after he retired from being an office worker. And before that, he ran away from jujutsu world because of the accident with Haibara. Haibara was his friend in the same grade who was killed one year after Hidden Inventory arc.

後は頼む (I’ll leave the rest to you)

It is possibly the final words that Haibara said to Nanami, making him realized how shitty jujutsushi are - as he was forced to abandon the live of his friend for the sake of other people. The death of Haibara hurt them badly - it did not only made Nanami run away from being a jujutsushi, but also the final push that made Getou finally stray from the “right path”.

And ever since, Nanami distanced himself from jujutsu world, and to an extent, people. He called his office job to be “out of human cycle” and poured all of himself into earning more money. He forced himself to be apathetic. It didn’t matter if he had money - or so he thought. 

He just exorcised a small fry to make the baker’s feel better, but the emotional effect of the passing gratitude on Nanami is very deep. He stopped to be a jujutsushi because of people, but he also returned to be one because of people. He is even still empathic to transfigured human used by Mahito in their fight, despite claiming that he doesn’t bring his personal feeling to work. 

3. Adult of adult 

Finding more hair loss on your bedside, your favorite deli bread disappears from local convenience store... The accumulation of those little despairs is what makes someone an adult.

The way we move on from despairs, little or big, the way we accept it as part of ourselves, let it mold us to be the person that we are today. Nanami refers the “despairs” to come from the smallest things. But accumulation of small things can become a mountain - and vice versa, a mountain is accumulation of small rocks.

The death of Haibara is something that he has to "accumulate”, shaping Nanami to be the adult that he is and maybe even forcing him to be “an adult” earlier. Ijichi even calls Nanami 大人オブ大人 - adult among adults, due to his maturity despite being younger than Gojo. The way he protects Itadori as a child is mainly because he is still affected by this tragedy during his youth and doesn’t want Itadori to face the harsh reality of being a jujutsushi so early, as Itadori is still pretty new not only as jujutsushi, but also to the overall jujutsu world. 

Unfortunately, the harsh reality decides to go right to Itadori’s doorstep - and the only thing Nanami can do is to trust Itadori to do the right thing, as he believes Itadori has what it takes to be a proper jujutsushi. 

4. Greed and Acceptance 

I am a human who never related to “things worth doing” or “things worth living for”. I’ll earn suitably until 3,40 years old, then I’ll enjoy living easily in country with low living cost.

Retiring early was Nanami’s main drive after he left Jujutsu high. He worked away from people and wanted to retire to a place also away, especially from his kind of people. And all that’s left for him to cling to is the greed to earn more money. 

But Nanami is far from actually greedy. Being greedy implies to die with regrets and as Principal Yaga said, no jujutsushi dies without remorse. If Itadori won’t regret the way he lives, then Nanami is the person who is actually able to die without leaving any regrets. And that alone speaks how much closer and similar Nanami actually is to Itadori compared to others.

There are only a few moments Nanami smiles - and both instances are when he is on the verge of death. First before he was saved by Itadori (more accurately Sukuna) from Mahito’s domain, and then his actual last moment, he smiles as he passes his last words to Itadori. The same last words that Haibara said to him before his death.

I’ll leave the rest to you 

From Haibara to Nanami, from Nanami to Itadori. He passes this words with heavy feeling, as it will “curse” Itadori to keep moving, to keep being a jujutsushi and walk in this harsh reality. It is not something that Nanami want Itadori to face - even young Nanami couldn’t bear the burden of being jujutsushi. 

But this is the path that they have decided to walk on, and the way of living that they won’t - and in Nanami’s case didn’t - regret. And the only option left for Itadori is to continue walking on this path with all its harsh reality. 

And now, Itadori is “cursed”. 

[dilfwaynes]

hi!! can i request a hc of the batfam reaction of their eastasian!reader gf  experiencing racism? thank you <33

just a reminder if you took place in any involvement of asian hate block me rn bitch :)

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this anon, i tried to make it accurate without stepping over any boundaries since im not asian myself. if anyone finds any sort of this offensive pls dm me !!

warning ; racism, batfam beating hoes, mention of blood

parings : bruce wayne x asian!reader, jason tood x asian!reader, dick grayson x asian!reader, stephanie brown x asian!reader, tim drake x asian!reader, damian wayne x asian!reader

BRUCE WAYNE:

it’ll honestly take a minute for bruce to realize what happened

when first entering the store he took notice of the man glaring but brushed it off thinking it was directed towards him as bruce wayne

you however didnt really pay attention to the dirty looks being thrown at you

with bruce excusing himself to the restroom and makes a promise of a quick return, you wander around the area by yourself

it was all fine until a man approaches you, giving a fast glance at him before turning away. there was definitely something up with him

“you don’t belong here”

your head shot up at his words, looking around you to make sure he was talking to you

“excuse me?” you lift an eyebrow at him, knowing what he was hinting at

“you fucking heard me, you don’t belong here. go back to your country.”

you inch away as he steps closer,”you better back the fuck away..”

he simply gives a smug face only coming closer,”or what?” you tighten your jaw when he loosely lets out a slur, your fists clenched.

“or i dislocate your arm.”bruce’s voice rings out, deep in anger as his eyes flicker to you and scanning to see if you were ok physically.

the ugly bitch’s face pales when he realizes who’s your boyfriend. without hesitation bruce yanks him away from you, slamming him to the wall

demanding for a first and last name,  squeezing his neck when the guy stays quiet

shaking he gives in and tells, flinching when bruce slams him against the wall one last time before dropping him

“i guaranteed whatever poor status you do contain i’ll tear it completely, say goodbye to your job.” he grabs for your hand and brings you into him as you both walk away.

“i’m sorry i shouldn’t have left you alone, my fault,”he presses a kiss to your temple.”and please don’t think any worth of that garbage’s words.”

you shake your head,”he was just some lowlife, not worth thinking about.” you reply leaning into him.

he looked at you and could tell no matter what those words still hurt somewhat and it angered him to no end

no one deserved to hear that disgusting shit, especially not his girlfriend.

his eyes hardens but doesn’t push further to make you anymore uncomfortable than you probably already are

giving another kiss to the side of your head he makes a quiet promise to himself not to leave you alone anymore in public with disgusting people like that around

jason todd:

as soon as the slur leaves the guy’s lips jason’s fist collides to his jaw, no doubt   shattering it

you and jason were grabbing lunch at some restaurant slash bar since it was the first time in a few days jason was free

everything was okay until you got up to go to the bathroom and some guy bumped into you

jason watched with hardening eyes as you apologize instead of the guy who slammed into you

“watch where the fuck you’re going at.”

you fall shock at the word, staying in place

while jason is on his feet in no time, swinging to the asshole’s face

screams were heard as well as the sound of bones breaking from his fist impact, the guy stumbling to the floor

“you racist fucking prick that’s my girlfriend you ugly fuck,”lifting him by his shirt he grabs his face and turns him to you.”apologize to her before i break your fucking face.”

he quickly rambles apologizes, crying in fear or pain. most likely a mix of both

jaaon lets him go and gives him another punch, this time to the nose. finding satisfaction at the pool of blood now seeping out

jason grabs your hand and starts to lead you outside,”let’s go eat somewhere else and forget about this shithole.”

you barely had time to give a reaction to anything as everything happened so fast

“hey look at me, don’t listen to that worthless fuck and his fucked up mindset. i dont know what to say to comfort you since i never experienced anything like this.” he stops at the car, placing his hands onto your shoulders

you nod sighing lightly, you only wanted a simple lunch with your boyfriend but instead got hate crime for simply  breathing.

“it’s nothing i haven’t gone through before,”he shakes his head blue eyes filling up with rage.

“no one’s gonna be doing that anymore, or at least getting away with it while i’m around

DICK GRAYSON:

he was completely taken by surmise at the slur being thrown at you, as well as the fault of you being the root of the covid 19

but before he had any time to react you were already on your feet glaring,”the fuck you just called me you piece shit.”

before he could reply you already kneed him and punched him between the eyes, dick laughing at the cries of pain

“you want me to take over or you wanna handle it babe?”

even how badly he wanted to beat the shit out of the pos the choice was yours

you denied and wanted to handle this on your own

but everytime the guy tried to get up dick would just shake his head and tell him to stay down, or simply push him back down

eventually if you start going too far richards would pull you away and tell you hes not worth it

he understands your anger but he doesn’t want you to past a line you won’t recover from bc of some worthless grime

“c’mon, he’s not worth anymore of our time. lets go eat pizza.”

DAMIAN WAYNE:

swing first talk later

he’ll just look at guy for a few seconds with a blank face

then he’s literally knocking them out

will probably kick him into the wall or ground

u dont know if you wanna pull him away because you already the tabloids, or if you wanna let him continue to beating the guy

damian probably wouldn’t realize how much he beat the guy to a pulp until you’re tugging him away

nudging his neck with to your nose to try and calm him down

he’ll end the fight with spitting on him tbh

your face reddens with anger when your eyes met the racist bitch, enjoying the view of his blood on the floor

“racist piece of shit,” he hisses before finally turning his back brow still frowning with anger

unlike the others (mentioned) he also knows and experienced racism and understands your point view way more

and know bow to comfort you better tbh

afterwards he’ll talk to you and comfort you, as well as opening up about his racist encounters, as well as his mothers.

if you’re still upset about what happened some hours later he 100% offers to beat up the guy again

you laugh it off cos hes serious about doing detective work, finding the guy and beating him to a pulp

you thank him but deny his offer and settle to confiding into him and just telling him how your feelings

STEPHANIE BROWN:

“are you fucking serious right now bitch?”

steph deadpans staring at the girl who called you the slur with ease, going on about how you were the cause of corona and to go back to your country

shocked at the words, hearing all of this before but it still doesn’t fail everytime you hear them

turning to you and seeing the hurt on your face from the word, she quickly turns to seeing red

without a second thought she grabs the collar of the woman’s shirt

“you’re gonna fucking apologize to my girlfriend right now or i’m gonna slam your face into the floor and break it

you stay still, pleased at watching the girl shake in fear under steph as she chokes out a mesh of a shit rushed apologizes

stephanie throws her down to the ground after her third apologize

“are you okay?” she knew you weren’t but asking the question would lead into the stage of comforting you

you nod but go on to tell her that this isn’t the first or last time this will happen, but it still never fails to shock you

she frowns at your experiences and doesn’t quite know what to do to help since she never went thru anything like that

she offers to take you to your favorite restaurant and end the day in wayne manor watching whatever you wanted

smiling when you accept, pulling you in her and pressing a kiss on-top of your head

“dont worry i’ll beat any jackass that pulls any racist shit.”

TIM DRAKE:

i think he’ll be the less  violent one out of everyone

he would honestly be so disgusted and gross out at humanity and how the woman thinks shes superior just because she’s white

if it was a guy saying what was said, then he would probably hit them ngl

but he takes the higher road with the woman, belittling and ending her with his vocabulary

and you’re pretty sure that his words hurt her more than an actual punch would 

you laugh when he compares her built to a buffalo

he then goes on to a more education lean, explaining how skin tone has nothing to do with a person, and she should adapt to modern times and stop being a racist cunt

after he ends it he goes on to find out who she is and email/call her workplace to inform what kind of employee they have

probably also goes on to make sure she wont be hired anywhere else

comforts you alot and and will get you anything you want

prob gets you both milkshakes as you vent to him about today and other racist things said to you

hates how you have to go thru any of this for simply existing

the  incident opens his eyes and he starts talking to bruce about opening a charity for ‘stop asian hate’

would shy away from the press and say you both came up with the fund

u’ll dismiss that rq and tell everyone it was all tim’s idea

all the money goes people got assaulted and paying for any hospital bills or anything needed

[lstories]

Just another Jungle Expedition

Part: 1

I wanted to try a first person story beacuse I can't accurately describe what a person looks like. I want to keep doing more lore stories, it's fun to write and talk about.

(Safe, soft, unwilling, naga, vore)

Word Count: 4560

The rain was tapping on the leaves above everyone, you could see the water flowing down the trunks of the trees in thin streams. Another group of adventurers running around the rainforest that satellites couldn't analyze. You were warned about going into the forest, just like the last team, and the team before them but you couldn't care less about their warnings.

BANG

The undeniable sound of a gun being fired by one of the other teams in the forest, the birds were flying out from the trees all around your team. Everyone needed weapons for protection from wild animals and from whatever was taking out the previous teams. Some were a little trigger happy for anything that moved. You didn't like to carry around a gun if you knew you weren't going to be in danger, but a knife wasn't off the table. You were almost always right for what might happen to you and your team on an expedition. You couldn't say for the other two teams your employer hired but it's likely this would be your biggest discovery yet and your team would probably come out unharmed. The last few teams that went deep into the forest never came out, their GPS and radios just stopped. No teams have ever found the body's, bones, tech, or anything else from the team before them but it never stopped people from coming to find out why.

You and your team were a small group of for higher adventures in a time where everything needs to be known. Your team hasn't found much, it was more of quality over quantity but, what you have found is amazing. Old era weapons that changed history books and plants you could only describe as magical. Hell, your team even found an entire city in a mountain that was abandoned thousands of years ago but had modern day, well, everything. You would only go on the best, most dangerous adventures, and your team would follow wherever you went.

BANG

The other teams were starting to get on your nerves. You loved nature and animals which is why you wanted to become an adventurer, and the other teams were just shooting at every animal big enough to have a clear shot. They were only in it for the money and fame, they didn't care what they found and they didn't care how they got it. Maybe during the night the monster in the woods could come and make them "disappear" like the other teams. You knew your employer was using everyone as fodder to further their own goals but to what or why was unknown. It didn't really matter as you knew this would be big. It was getting late though, and all the teams needed some rest. They were only a few miles out from where most of the other teams went missing but it was still better to get some rest than to walk during the night in the forest. After a bit of searching, your team found part of a cave in a cliff. There was scratch marks all over it and the front of the roof of the cave was slanted upwards with smoke stains running along it. An older team had deffenetly been here before, so your team was deffenetly going in the right direction.

The cave was big enough for about two teams to comfortably sleep in but everything was finders keepers for now. Your team hid most of the trails they made, ripping up bushes and lightly planting them on the trails. The other two teams worked together and set up a small camp under some trees, pitching their tents together and making a large fire under an opening in the canopy. Your team pulled all the tents together, creating a wall of fabrics to use as a wind barrier and to trap the heat in the cave.

Your team started to fall asleep one by one, eventually all of them fell asleep but you were still wide awake. Something was off, you knew your team would survive and this would be your biggest find yet but, there was something dangerous that you couldn't put your finger on and it was bugging you. You snuck out of your camp making sure not to wake anyone, the fire was already dwindling to ashes so you didn't have to worry about that being a problem. You walked around the forest unsure of what you were looking for but eventually you stumbled upon the other teams camp.

You snuck up from the side of their camp but you felt like someone or something was watching you. Looking over the bushes you saw everyone from the other teams, none of them could be looking at you so what was. You glanced around the forest, you didn't see anything except a small shadowy movement in the trees. You thought it was just some birds looking at you. Eventually it started to subside and you began to focus on the other teams again. You picked up a medium sized rock and threw it to the other side of their camp, some of them pulled their guns and immediately fired at where the rock landed.

You stepped out of the bushes, arms crossed with a disappointed look on your face. "And what if that was an exotic animal"

A few of them turned to you with their guns pointed and two of them tried to fire, their guns clicked as they were out of ammo. You weren't scared of them, everything usually worked out in the end for you. Everyone waited for the other to move, you eventually made the first move, walking closer to the fire and sitting next to them. "So, what are you going to do with your pay if you survive" you say, stealing a marshmallow from one of the sticks next to you while most of them were still aiming their guns. You knew this was going to be a long trip so you had your team only pack compact food, luckily this team wanted to keep some sugar around like they were camping. Everyone stayed quiet, one by one they reluctantly put their guns away. "Well, does anyone want to talk first or should I share my opinions about you guys" you say, each of them started talking about their wants. Some would help their family's, some just want the money for whatever they feel like, and some didn't share what they wanted. Eventually you left back to your camp after exchanging stories of your adventures, you didn't like them anymore than when you first met them but you did get to know some of them better. Finally you got your mind off of whatever was bugging you but now there was something else. It felt like there was something falloing you, it didn't feel like when the other team was starting, but whatever was watching you from before was back. Your neck was on fire at this point, you were tempted to just sleep in the bushes and deal with whatever was following you but you finally found your camp. Walking inside you immediately fell onto the single blanket you called a bed. The burning sensation was finally dwindling from the back of your neck as you drifted off to sleep.

You woke up, your team had already taken down the makeshift wall and had already packed and were ready to leave. The sun was barely rising let alone showing threw the leaves and it felt like you hadn't gotten any sleep but it took you no time to pack up what you had laid out and start walking. You led your team to the other's camp, all of them were asleep but the huge fire you sat around was just a small campfire now, and that was being unwatched, the smoke from it had burned the leaves in the canopy. Everyone was asleep in their tents with nothing guarding them, you took one of your teammates guns and shot once at the fire, sparks flew as you guided your team to leave. You walked away from the other team's camp to your original destination, you could hear them questioning what that was while you walked away. You and your team were always efficient and always made the most of every moment. They sometimes questioned why you did what you did, even you questioned what you were doing from time to time but the results of what you did made it worth it. After a long time of walking your radios started to crackle and your GPS couldn't pick up where you were anymore eventually failing completely. Your team came into a clearing after a few hours of walking, the expanse was huge, bigger than any clearing the satellite's had seen, it was perfectly circular and the grass was too green and short to be any type of grass in this part of the world. After getting a closer look, it didn't even look like it was from your world. A large stone castle was in the middle of the clearing, it was perfectly kept and was deffenetly being lived in. There wasn't any human life anywhere neer this area so a castle wouldn't be out here. There was an assortment of trees surrounding the circular clearing, a few dozen trees you recognized from all over the world and thousands more you didn't. You were about to start heading towards the castle until you heard a roar from your side.

Your entire team looked to the right, a large wolf like creature had exited the forest near you. It didn't seem to notice your team or the explosion in the distance as you looked to the edges of the forest to see monsters and groups of people exiting from all parts of the forest. The creature sniffed at the air as your team slowly crept back into the forest but it was no use, it had already noticed you. Everyone ducked out of the way as the monster jumped out at you and your team. You ran back into the forest. You heard the monster roar as you slid under a fallen tree but it seemed to be cut off half way through its roar. You ran threw the forest for a bit, looking back to see if the monster was still chasing you or your team but there was nothing. You stoped and walked back to try and find your team, but the forest grew weirder, there was new types of trees and shrubbery and the land was flattening out more. You looked over to some trees, you could see the edge of the forest threw two trees but other trees just made the forest look like it had kept on going. You walked threw the two trees that showed the edge of the forest, a cold chill washed over you as you looked up to see it was dark and snowing. You were baffled, it took you no time to run out of the forest and it looked like the world had ended. You were already starting to shake from the cold and had no choice but walk back into the forest. You stepped over twigs and shrubbery, you had no idea where you ran from as your mind raced as to what was happening. How did the world get so cold and how did it take so little time to get to the outside of the forest. You went back and looked behind the trees, the forest did keep going.

You could feel the burning of someone looking at you again, looking back you still didn't see anyone. You could hear something quietly moving behind you and acted as if you couldn't. More edges of the forest, worlds with giant houses, large stone structures you couldn't tell the meaning of, or trees in the distance that seemed to move, none of which was near the forest you entered or let alone on your world. You kept walking as the rustling of leaves and snapping of branches got louder. It was starting to get dark, you didn't want to sleep with whatever was stalking you, so with no other choice you kept walking. Your eyes were getting heavy as the terrain only got weirder, a small bump in the dirt was almost a few inches tall at this point and the moss on the trees seemed inverted but normal somehow. You kept going but a thundering sound almost knocked you off your feet. You couldn't tell what it was or where it was coming from and it sounded like it was all around you. Your eyes darted around the forest looking for whatever it was as you heard the rustling of leaves again, hastily moving towards you now. You couldn't move in time to get out of the way as you were picked up and carried up a nearby tree. You were about to scream as a scaly hand was put over your mouth and another was holding your arms to your sides. You tried to flail enough to reach for your knife, almost grabbing it before being spun around. You didn't know what you were expecting to see but it wasn't a humanish snake thing. Its face had yellow scales up from its jawline to its ears, its torso was a mix of yellow and brown scales and its blue and yellow eyes were particularly covered by its blond hair. It looked human but it had scales over most if not all of its body.

You wanted to say something but its hand was still covering your mouth. It didn't look like it was looking at you, the thundering sound was starting to get louder as the scaly human looked like it was getting worried. You couldn't turn your head enough to see what was coming but at the bottom of the tree was a yellow and brown tail with a small repeating diamond pattern slowly climbing it. You followed the tail up the tree as it wrapped around the branch you were on expecting something to be ready to attack. But instead you saw the tail connect to the man holding you. You started to wriggle free and get away but he had a death grip on you. You looked back up to his eyes as the booming kept getting louder, he was now completely focused on you, looking over you from head to toe. He glanced over your shoulder one last time and, with an apologetic look on his face, shoved your head into his mouth. You couldn't move for a second, petrified with fear as you were surrounded by warmth and wetness. Your head was spun around to its side, you could see large fangs in the top of his mouth and a small forked tounge quickly licking at your cheek and neck. With one gulp you partially slid down his throat and your feet left the branch you were barely balancing on, you could feel his bones buckle and gravity shift as your head was forced past his collarbone. A reverberating hum echoed around you as he forced your shoulder's past his throat. You thrashed your legs, the booming got louder and the snake person grappled your legs together and quickly forced them down his throat. The muscles around you tensed as you were shoved down faster than they could drag you, it felt like you were falling for a second before it tightened even harder around your head before all the pressure vanished. Your scalp roughly hit the bottom of his stomach and your neck painfully fell behind.

You could feel your shoulders falloing in behind, your whole body lurched to try and catch itself on something as gravity shifted around. You felt like you were laying on your back and immediately tried to wriggle backwards up the snake person's throat once the movement stopped. The booming was only getting louder somehow and your chest started to feel crushed for a second before it fell into the stomach with you. You kept trying to writhe your legs but they were kept still by the thing currently eating you. Your stomach started to follow into his as you were forced to curl up. You tried to scream at him to let you go, the booming sound outside drowning out any sounds you tried to make. Your hips finally made it into the stomach with you for what felt like an excruciatingly long time. You forced yourself threw the pain of bending your joints the wrong way and dragged your arms up to cover your ears. You wanted to punch the walls of your new prison but the booming was too loud and you thought you were about to start bleading from your ears. You could feel your captors mouth close over your feet as he tried to swallow your legs, eventually giving up for a second and opening his mouth. A faint glimmer of hoped flashed for a second before he moved your feet and bit your toes with his molars. Luckaly he hadn't bitten down hard enough to cause any bleading, unluckily, you jerked forward and curled a bit more and slightly bent your knee's. That was all he needed as he swallowed your legs, you could feel his joints cracking and popping as his jaw realigned itself and his chest cracked itself back into place. You tried to push your legs back up but they got caught on his rib cage, he pushed back and shoved your legs deeper, each pair of bones your feet passed clicked back together until you were fully curled up in his stomach.

You tried to scream at the top of your lungs, you couldn't hear anything coming out of your mouth as the booming got louder. You felt a light touch feel along your back. A pair of hands ran across your wing bones, over your shoulders, over your head, and down your spine, a few fingers tracing over every vertebrae. It was almost a reassuring feeling until a small drop of liquid ran down your face, for a split second you forgot where you were and were getting comfortable. You snapped out of the almost trance like state, kicking at the walls and stretching out as much as you could without removing your hands from your ears. You tried your hardest to get him to spit you back up before remembering your knife. You moved your hand out of the way and slamming you head to your shoulder, you jostled around with one hand for your knife, you were suddenly greeted to a pain of pressure once you had your hand on the grip. The pressure tightening the stomach around you as you forced your hand back up to your chest as it slowly wrapped up your back and over your head. It was getting hard to breath and you couldn't grab your knife in time to cut your way out. The booming suddenly stopped as you realized the snake part of the person that ate you had wrapped around your body. Your heart was racing so fast you could hear it... wait, the beats in your chest weren't the same as the ones you heard. You felt your wrist and timed it to the one you were hearing. The heartbeat you heard was faster and deeper than yours and you realized it was the snakes heart beat. The heart beat wasn't the only thing you could hear, low gurgling and the quickening breath of the snake man echoed all around you. A small amount of saliva dripped onto your head and gravity shifted again.

You were back on your feet, at least as well as you could be on your feet while you were all balled up. You heard a sharp drawn out hiss as you were jostled around in his stomach for a bit. You could hear him take in another breath as he hissed again, this one was rising in pitch before you were jostled around more and heard a loud squelch. An incredibly loud and undescribeable noise echoed around you as you felt like you were about to go deaf. It stopped and the booming started up again. This time it only took seconds to disappear. After a few seconds of relative silence besides the gurgling of the stomach and the heartbeat, the pressure was released around you. You immediately took heavy breaths of the thick air around you, the heartbeat around you slowing down. Both your breaths became steady as you felt the tail around you slowly uncoil around you as you felt the hands return to your back. It felt reassuring when he started massaging the muscles in your shoulder blades. You started relaxing a bit, leaning into his massage as you were just happy that the booming stopped. You tried to get comfortable for a second as your legs pressed against his stomach and you remembered where you were.

"Are you ok in there?" He asked, it sounded genuine and auctly kind hearted. He sounded somewhere in his mid 20s.

You had felt acids before and nothing was hurting, slight pain in some of your joints and neck but that was it. "Y-ya, I uhh... I guess I'm fine" Your voice was scratchy and horus. You let your mind wander for a bit, you were in his stomach and it wasn't hurting you at all. Then your mind raced back to why he ate you. "Oh uhhh... ya- umm...... WHAT WAS THAT!" You screamed at him. It must have scared him a bit as he jostled around a bit before his stomach started to sway.

You could feel him slithering a bit until he started resting against something. "Ya, sorry I ate you, I had to try and keep you safe from the giant. If I didn't hide you they would have killed you" he sounded apologetic and a bit sad while saying that.

"Fine, I guess that's a good enough excuse. Can you let me out now. I need to find my team and get back to that castle" you didn't want your friends to start worrying but it was probably to late for that.

"I would but I can't, not right now at least. It's already night and the ground has already started moving. I'll have to wait till morning to let you out" he sounded apologetic but you thought you could hear a bit of joy in his voice as talked.

"Why do I have to stay curled up all night in your stomach, and how do i know your not going to digest me!" You said a little angry and getting ready to pull out your knife.

"The ground is moving, the tall bumps you saw where what move under the ground, and when something touches them they open up and drag whatever it is down under ground. No one I've met knows what it is beacuse no one's ever come out"

"Then what about my friends"

"They'll be fine, these things are rare, if I wasn't here you would have been eaten by them... auctly, you would have been killed by the giant first. Also I'm not going to digest you, I can control my digestive system, and even if I couldn't, us nagas take weeks to digest our prey"

"All right, but I can't sleep like this. Can you let me out on the tree so I can go to sleep"

"I told you, I can't. Here, I was about to go to sleep as well, if you can turn around I can straighten you out."

It didn't seem like you had much of a choice, and for some reason you trusted him. You started trying to turn around when gravity started to shift around you. Gravity was constantly changing directions and interrupting any progress you made. You eventually got turned around as his movement finally stopped and you could tell he was leaning against something and slightly swaying. "All right, I'm turned around, what was your big idea. Also what took you so long to settle down" you said, still pissed at the situation.

"I had to tie a knot in my tail so you wouldn't go too far, if you did go to far I wouldn't be able to bring back up without it taking a full day"

It occurred to you that you were taking him at his word, you had no reason to trust what he was saying and less reason for you to trust he wasn't going to hurt you. You had no idea what was outside and you didn't see anything before he ate you. What is going on, and why was there a part of you that's saying everything is ok? "Hey, what are you planning? I need to get back to my team as soon as possible"

"Were going to sleep safely in the trees until morning and then I'm going to take you to the king. After we talk with him and he does all his king stuff I'll help you find your friends and then take you back to your world"

"Fine, but why did you want me to turn around. I'm still squished in your gut" It didn't take long for the the stomach to start pressing in on you harder. Your feet were pushed through a hole in the bottom of his stomach. Your legs started to follow down. Your hands were caught by the tight muscles and were pulled down with you waist. Your chest felt slightly crushed as the rhythmic pushing and pulling of muscles kept working you down. Your decent started to slow as your shoulder's were caught. Your head and neck were the only thing left in the human stomach. He ran a hand lightly over your head before pushing you down further. You were finaly fully in his second stomach. It was warm, sure it was cramped but it was comparable. You realized there was a gentle swaying like you were on a hammock. The stomach mussels kept trying to work you further down but your feet were caught and you couldn't go down any more. "So, I'm just supposed to sleep like this. What's your name anyway?" The naga gently rubbed where your forehead was.

"Could you at least try to go to sleep? My names Xorha by the way, what's your name?" He was gently rubbing at your shoulder's.

"I'm Y/N" you pushed back at his hands "I'll try and go to sleep now. Goodnight" you reluctantly fell asleep, but it was much easier than you thought it would be. The rhythmic heartbeat and breathing along with gentle massage his stomach gave drifted you along.

"Well, goodnight" Xorah sounded tired. He let out a long hiss like yawn. "Why are you so angry?"

"Beacuse I lost my entire team, I- (yawn) I need to find them" You couldn't keep your eyes open but it's not like it mattered, you couldn't see either way. You could hear Xorah talking but you were already drifted too far, you were already practically asleep. You would never admit it to anybody but this was much more comfortable than any bed you've slept in.