I'm Ezra. You can use they or he pronouns for me. My pen name is Ezra Lamdan, though you may see some of my older stories published under "E. M. Lamdan." I'm a secular, anti-zionist Jew, a Palestine solidarity organizer in my local community, and a writer of vaguely literary speculative fiction. My askbox is always open so feel free to ask me any questions you have about Jewishness, organizing, or especially my work!
About my work:
I write speculative fiction, usually science fiction, fantasy, Weird fiction, or some blend thereof. I call my work "vaguely literary" because I consider it more character-driven than plot-driven. But it is second-world and yes, there is always plot, so I have to be wishy-washy about these sorts of designations. I care a great deal about prose and spend an unreasonable amount of time nitpicking at the sentence level.
I tend to write about navigation of generational trauma and the potential for collective liberation, only possible through the pursuit of solidarity. My work is anti-colonial and anti-capitalist in nature. I seek to use fiction as a vehicle for the disruption of Zionist, white supremacist, hegemonic narratives. The characters in my stories are almost always queer.
I am drawn to writers like N. K. Jemisin, Arkady Martine, Ursula K Le Guin, and Octavia Butler. My work is deeply indebted to Afrofuturism in its approach to diaspora and historical memory, something I hope to honor. My fiction has also been greatly influenced by Marxist critical theory; Walter Benjamin has probably shaped my thinking the most, but I also draw a lot from Fanon, Fred Moten's Undercommons, Christina Sharpe's concept of wake work, and countless others, I won't just sit here listing theorists all day don't worry
I write short fiction sometimes, but also I'm working on an in-progress novel, a second-world sci-fi with some fantasy bells on. This is the first book of an intended trilogy, which, if you follow, you'll probably be hearing about a lot. I really hope to write a draft of this novel during the first year of my MFA. Speaking of -
Some facts about me!
I am a fiction MFA candidate, starting this fall. I will also concurrently be teaching English 101. So hopefully, there will be a lot of writing productivity from me over the months to come.
I've been peripheral to the publishing industry, working as a freelance ghostwriter, for the past... 4? 5? years. This has been a very financially precarious time for me as you might imagine. Please do not ask me any questions about the ghostwriting, I am not able to answer them, and suffice it to say it's nowhere near as interesting as it sounds.
I'm in my late 20s #itgetsbetter
I have 2 cats and I used to work with horses, so animals are a very important part of my life.
I have a few published short stories. None of them are particularly recent but that's okay, there will be recent ones soon, keinehora. Some of them can be found on my Patreon, where one is free (a really good one, imho) and the rest are available under my lowest contribution tier.
On a related note. I have a Patreon, linked below! You can follow for free to see my newsletters and read that free short story. I post every month talking about what's going on, what I'm reading, what I'm writing, usually a snippet of the latter, and at the end of every newsletter, a picture of one of my animals.
Get more from Ezra Lamdan on Patreon. speculative fiction. Support Ezra Lamdan and get exclusive access to their work.
I also have a website:
I am always open for tag games, ask games, anything like that. I look forward to storytelling with all of you.
A note about my blog under the readmore, to be clicked if I looked familiar to you -
This is my second writeblr. You may remember the old one under the name "neshamahs" or "doikayt." I deleted in 2022 after getting harassed by a group of zionists and deciding that honestly, tumblr wasn't really worth the headache. Now i'm back a few years later, more experienced in life, and swift with the block button. All of this to say: I will not publish any hate anons, I will delete them. I will not respond to anything I deem to be bad-faith and especially not with anyone engaging in racial/ethnic hatred or other bigotry, directed at me or at anyone else. That being said, I am always open to honest dialogue and criticism, so please do reach out to me, I don't bite.
You work at the Senate, your job is important but you're one of a dozen people who do this job day in and day out. And somehow—miraculously—you've managed to catch Fox's eye.
And it's great! Fantastic even! He's kind and considerate and completely devoted to you and your happiness, which is great, because you're just as devoted to him.
There is one, little bitty problem.
You don't get paid enough.
Oh sure, you've made it work, with some heavy budgeting, but Fox doesn't get paid. So if you want nice-ish dates you have to pay for then.
Which, again, is fine. He's worth it, but it does leave your end of the month bank account looking at little...bare.
So, what are your options?
You could ask for a raise, but you'd get laughed out of your boss' office.
You've never been much of a crafter, so a side hustle like that is out.
And you respect Fox too much to even consider any kind of sex work. Not that you have anything against it, but you'd want to talk to him about it first, and you absolutely do not want him to know about your money issues. So that's out, too.
And you've never been good at gambling, so that's off the table, too.
So you think and think, and then you remember. There's an underground, very illegal, fighting club that accepts participants of all ages, genders, species, and skill level. And the pay is very, very good.
You did martial arts as a kid. And only stopped when you were in college because of a lack of time, so you might have a chance of winning a bout or two. And if you're careful, Fox will never find out about your illegal fights.
You win your first fight, and the next three after that. Earning enough to go on several dates with Fox and have money left over for your rainy day fund. And so, the fights become a regular thing, once or twice a week.
You win more than you lose, but you do lose every now and then. So you have to learn to treat your injuries before Fox can see them. His head might very well explode if he knew you were fighting for money.
But Lady Luck has never favored you, and it was only after a matter of time before the club ended up getting raided by the Corries.
Which is how Fox finds you, sitting in a holding cell with several of the other fighters, all of you several different types of beat up. You have an ice pack pressed against your eye and a split lip, and when Fox stands there and stares at you, you can't look him in the eyes.
"I...can explain?" You offer hesitantly, not actually sure you can explain.
"With me." Fox's words are clipped as he let's you out of the cell, and you trot after him.
"Are you mad?"
"No."
"Are you sure? Because you're using your 'I'm mad but I'm trying not to show it' voice."
He pushes his office door open, "In."
You slump, "Yeah, you're mad."
He slams the door shut behind you, and motions for you to sit in a chair, before he plucks the ice pack off your eye, "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I like fighting!" You blurt out, a blatant lie that he doesn't believe for a second.
"Try again."
"Uhm..." he arches a brow, and you look away, "I needed the money."
"For what? What's so important that you had to put yourself in harm's way to get money for?"
"I...stuff."
"Stuff?"
"Stuff."
"If you don't tell me the truth I'm going to assume you're cheating on me." Fox says bluntly.
"I would never!"
"So tell me."
"I...can't afford our dates."
He blinks. Twice. And then leans back slightly, "Come again?"
"I don't get paid a lot and my apartment is expensive and I can't afford your dates but you're important enough that I want to keep going on them, so...fighting."
"You...are the dumbest smart person I've ever met." Fox finally says, "Why didn't you say anything?"
You shrug, "Didn't want you to worry or whatever."
"So you made me worry more?"
"...I didn't say it was a good idea. Just the only feasible one I had."
He sighs, "I love you, but I'm so mad right now."
"Fair."
"No more cage matches. No more fighting. Promise me."
"I promise."
"We can work out something different for our dates. And next time, just talk to me. Please."
"Yeah. Yeah. Can I go home now?"
"No."
"...what?"
"You're going back to the holding cell."
"WHAT?"
"You're spending the night. You'll be released in the morning. Just like everyone else."
"I...but...Fox!"
"Thems the rules, cyare. Here's your ice pack back."
You stare at him, speechless. But he just smiles at you as he motions for Thire to return you to the holding cell.
Caspian blinked at the girl (though she seemed more woman than girl, he guessed her to be close to his age) sitting beside him.
"When do you mean? Before when?"
Queen Susan pursed her lips, glanced at him sideways, before staring back into the flames. Their light danced over her face, warm orange flickers reflected in her eyes.
"It was... in the sixth year of our reign. In the fall of the year, when they appeared in the Western Woods, coming over the far Western mountains, the trees said."
Caspian couldn't suppress a little flinch at the mention of the trees.
Queen Susan must have noticed, because she smiled a little. "Why do you think your people fear the woods so much? It was the dryads and hamadryads that went to war for us then. Who saved Ed–"
She stopped too suddenly to be natural, and Caspian leaned forward, curiosity piqued. "I do not know this part of my history," he said quietly, felt a little niggle of shame. He was very aware of her use of 'your people'.
"But you fear the woods," and her smile was sad.
"We burned them." The words came before Caspian could think them over. "We burned the woods to beat them back. There is a nursery rhyme my aunt taught me, about the smoke, and the fire of the Telmarines."
He stopped, horror struck, shame wrapping round his throat, and the queen's glance burned him, even as tears filled her eyes.
"Leave me. Please." Gentle, even in grief.
Caspian opened his mouth, gripped by remorse, but when she turned her face still further away, he thought better of it. For what apology could he offer to remedy the sins of his millenia-dead ancestors?
He rose, bowed, turned away, miserable with the weight of it all.
Across the large, low underground room, he caught the eye of a dark-haired young man who had just entered, a piercing glance, before King Edmund was looking past him, waving a hand at someone else.
It was the trees that saved Ed, Queen Susan had said, and Caspian shivered suddenly, even in that close air.
honestly maybe it's just me but buck is literally repeating the same steps as with natalia and taylor as with tommy. they meet, he has a crush, go on a date, it's awful and the date leaves, they then come back, then try for real. Like it sounds like even though Buck is off the hamster wheel in regards to his sexuality he very much is still on the hamster wheel when it comes to repetitive mistakes when it comes to his relationships.
Hey Nonnie
I woudn't say that at all. Yes of course there are some similarities - there always will be - between Buck dating Tommy and the Buck who dated Taylor or Natalia. But the reality is they are worlds apart.
For starters Tommy didn't leave because the date was awful, he left to give Buck some space to do a bit more figuring out - he said so himself that his what he was doing. He chose to leave the ball in Bucks court, understanding this was a big new thing for him and that it wouldn't be right to continue anything until Buck was ready. Buck then contacted him when he was and they met up and decided mutually to give things ago.
This is very different to both Taylor and Natalia - both of whom left after something big had happened in Bucks life (Eddie being shot and Kameron popping up out of seemingly nowhere) and then they were the ones to come back - to chase after Buck.
Look we can have whole conversations about the chasing being chased aspect of things but the long and short of it is That both Taylor and (to a lesser extent) Natalia, Ali and Abby chased Buck in one way or another and when it suited them. Tommy has never chased Buck - he shot his shot, sure, made his interest known, but he hasn't once chased Buck. Buck has always mistaken things for him doing the chasing (he is an very unreliable narrator) becuse he gets invested fast and so pursues things. His mistake is moving to fast - falling to quickly for people.
This is the major fundamental difference with Tommy, who is older and wiser and settled with who he is and what he wants. He also has the understanding of being queer and coming out later in life - of discovering that part of yourself that has been hidden and the fact it might take Buck a minute to figure out things.
The other big thing for me is the level of honest Buck is being here - this isn't something we've seen before in this way. He has been completely up front with Tommy when it has been important for him to be so (I would argue he did do the same for Natalia but that he was more forced into it by circumstance). That coffee they had was a very very clear example of that, he sat down, appologised and laid his cards out on the table. He's told the two most important people in his life that he's bi and interested in Tommy and yes maybe going to a wedding is a bit fast, but he also knows most of the people there so he's not walking in to a big unknown in t hat respect and he has a lot of goodwill with the firefam at this moment after flying them to the curise ship so they could rescue Athena and Bobby.
In all honesty I'm far more circumspect about Natalias behaviour as well - far more than a large portion of fandom was towards her. Did I like her as a character or for Buck, No I didn't, but she also didn't do all that much wrong in my eyes, her wanting to take a minute when presented with all that Bucks life is, to think things through before jumping into something is perfectly acceptable and healthy behaviour. The reality is that she was more interested in Bucks death than she was in his life and thats probably what brought her back - that itching need to know more about his death and what it was like.
But she came into his life when he was in a rough place mentally and it was never going to go well for that reason alone. All of Bucks girlfriends have that in common - they met him on the job and then come inot his life when he is having some form of internal crisis. Abby when he had just lost his first person on the job - making him emotionally vulnerable. Ali when he's accepted his relationship with Abby wasn't going anywhere a new guy had just started at work (yes they were getting on by this point but it is still new and an unknown) and his sister had just come back into his life after having had no contact for several years - and he knows she's in a fragile place. Taylor messes hm around but when she comes back into his life and wants to date him - Eddie has just been shot and he's looking after Christopher - he's massively emotionally compromised. None of these are good times to start a romantic relationship.
That isn't the case with Tommy - Bucks actually in a pretty decent place - yes the whole discovering he's queer could be argued as making him emotionally compromised, but he's being given the grace to do things at his own pace - in a healthy way - Tommy is letting Buck dictate the pace they go at.
We also have to remember that we are in a tv show - every single character who isn't a main (or to a certain extent a recurring) is there to act as a storytelling vehicle for one of the mains - their character traits are always going to be those which help get a main character from A to B, to move the story along and to make sure our mains learn something about themselves and their fellow mains along the way.
Abby was about getting Buck from being a bit of a clueless player into a long term (ish) relationship - about growing him out of his jock ways and getting him (and us) to recognise that he isn't a player that he wants real love and a long term relationship. Ali was about him getting over his first big disappointment - about getting hm to move on and about getting him his own place to exist. Taylor was about learning what love didn't look like, about how to treat others and showing him what he wasn't looking for and teaching him not to compromise on his morals. Natalia was all about Buck reconciling himself with his death and rebirth and as soon as he had done that, she was gone.
Tommy is about Buck discovering his queer identity, having a safe space to explore that and about getting him ready for Eddie - its why Tommy is soooo similar to Eddie - Buck will come out of this relationship (whatever form it takes) understanding who he is, and recognising what he wants is what he already almost has - Eddie.
Tommy is also about helping manoeuvre Eddie into questioning himself - another reason why he is so similar to Eddie - Eddie needed to see a gay version of himself - and with Buck to actually start thinking about himself and who he is and what he wants.
So all this to say that Nonnie - Buck has very much got off that hamster wheel and he is very much not making the same mistakes over again. I'm very excited to see how it continues to play out and I'm overjoyed with how the show is handling telling this story.
Welp, here it is folks. I'm officially a William/Sherlock shipper! (is anyone surprised?)
Heyo everyone! I've been making good strides with Moriarty lately- both with the manga and anime- so much so that I've finally got the inspiration to finish this fic! Credit to a lovely friend of mine here that helped me bring this fic to life! I hope y'all like it as much as I did writing it!
CW: Drinking
Summary: Through a series of accidental turned intentional events, William finds himself in quite the peculiar situation
It wasn’t uncommon to find William James Moriarty among the common folk.
Despite being an aristocrat with the privilege to spend his time at the finest gentleman clubs, the young professor made it a point to frequent the smaller pubs and shops around town.
Some would say they were simply convenience- most were walking distance from the university, perfect for a drink after those late nights grading.
Others said he enjoyed the people- anywhere you looked he was chatting up the locals, sharing advice for their various problems and learning little bouts of gossip around town.
Both statements were true, along with other factors.
“Ah, late today, Professor? And here I was starting to think you’ve grown bored of our evening meetings.” Sherlock grinned around a cigarette as William sat beside him, a tad breathless from the run. “Winded too. That excited to see me?”
“Oh hush…I hadn’t intended it, but it seemed sleep got the better of me.” William confessed, a small blush staining his cheeks as he ordered his usual from the bartender. He needed to sleep more; how unprofessional would it be if one of his students found him passed out at his desk, ink staining his cheek?
Not to mention the dream he had while sleeping…a certain long haired detective invading his dreams like a virus.
“Pfft, you, sleeping at your desk? Oh man, I wish I was there!” Sherlock laughed like a child, slapping a hand on the bar as he threw his head back in mirth. “Remind me to swing by the classroom one of these evenings- I just might catch you. Do you talk in your sleep? What secrets would you share, I wonder…”
“You’re dreaming yourself now, Mr. Holmes.” William shook his head with a small laugh, taking his drink. He was grateful for the large glass; he hoped it hid his mortification at the thought of Sherlock finding him in such a state. “Though if you’re interested in sitting in one of my lectures, you’re free to do so. I’ll be sure to adjust the lecture plan so you can keep up. Does basic addition sound good?”
“Cheeky, aren’t ya?” Sherlock huffed, reaching out without thinking. His finger jabbed William’s side, twisting some upon contact. “And after being late! I’d outta-”
“Heeh!”
Both men froze, Sherlock’s eyes wide in surprise as William’s face flushed a pretty shade of red.
“What was-”
“Nothing.”
“Certainly you’re not-”
“You’re imagining things.”
“Professor…” Sherlock started to grin once more, eyes dancing. “Don’t tell me, you’re ticklish aren’t you?”
William stared him down, debating on how he’d go about this. Denying it would only prompt further investigation, while admitting to it…well, that’d also lead to investigation.
My, he was- to put it in the most Moran-esque way possible- screwed.
His options limited, he finished his drink, slipping his pay plus a tip to the bartender as he smiled at the detective. Leaning against the bar casually, he told him only one thing.
“Catch me, if you can, Mr. Holmes.”
Sherlock’s shocked expression was a blur as he bolted from his seat, evading tables and flying out the door before anyone could react. Behind him was wind as he ran, a laugh breaking free from his voice as he heard Sherlock yell something inaudible after him. He felt like a child at that moment, running away like how he ran from Jack with his brothers when lessons proved to be slow. It was exhilarating.
It was only when he got halfway home did he realize he completely forgot about his schoolbag.
~~~
“William, we have a visitor.” Louis’ expression was grim, as if he encountered a rather large spider while tidying up the manor. “Or I should say, you have a visitor. I have a pest.”
“Ah, so Mr. Holmes learned of our address?” William struggled to fight down the laugh in his voice at his brother’s dismay. “I believe I know what business he has with me. I’ll meet him at the door, no need to set anything out.”
“If you’re worried I’d poison him, you shouldn’t. Imagine the mess that’d leave.” Louis tsked, shaking his head in disgust. “We’d never remove the stains.”
“Glad to know you're prioritizing the estate, brother.” William smiled as he stood, making his way towards the door. “We’d never survive without you.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’d find a way.” Louis waved him off, hiding the flattered smile on his lips with a turn of his face. “Go now before he decides to scale the windows.”
~~
When William arrived, Sherlock was standing alone at the door, William’s schoolbag in hand. “Morning, Professor.” He greeted with an easy grin, nodding at the man’s dressing robe. “Seems you’ve slept in today.”
“Oh this old thing? I prefer staying comfortable for as long as possible, that’s all. No need to dress up for grading.” William eyed his schoolbag curiously; there were no indications someone tried to pry it open, and everything seemed as intact as it was the other day. “You brought my bag?”
“Yeah, couldn’t just leave it there after you took off like a bat out of hell.” There was no resentment or anger in his voice. Sherlock sounded far too amused by the whole ordeal as he held up the bag, wiggling it some. “Come now, take it.”
“I really should apologize, Mr. Holmes. That was rather unsightly of me.” William shook his head as he walked over, taking the bag in question. “Not to mention rude. I’ll avoid leaving so abruptly in our future meetings.”
“Future meetings? You still want to meet up?” Sherlock sounded surprised. William couldn’t tell you why that oddly hurt.
“Apologies, I shouldn’t assume.” William smiled tightly as he stepped back, bag in hand. “Thank you for bringing this to me, Mr. Holmes. I’ll take my leave now-”
“Hold on, hold on! You’re as quick with your assumptions as you are with those feet.” Sherlock waved off his goodbye, making the blonde pause. “I’d still like to meet with you, evenings have never felt more fun, you know? Given Watson’s constant nagging of my habits and Miss Hudson going on about the rent or my latest experiment-which I’ll have you know went completely…” The detective cleared his throat when he realized he was rambling. “Point standing; I’d like to continue these evening meetings together…if you’ll have me.”
“My, bashful aren’t we?” William chuckled, even as that last bit of phrasing made something in his chest unravel. “Of course, Mr. Holmes. I’d like that.”
They stood in the hall for a moment more, quiet as they both looked for something to say. This was feeling less and less like a short meeting between men and more like two children declaring their love. William grasped at something to say, but came up blank. Instead, an idea he’d been nursing came to light.
“Well, I should be off then? Same spot at the bar as always, ol’ chap?” Sherlock nodded, turning to the door and heading out.
“Mr.Holmes, before you go. Answer me this?” William called out to him, making Sherlock turn. “Yesterday you inquired about my own sensitivities. I wanted to ask..are you perhaps ticklish?”
It was brief, but a flash of panic Sherlock’s eyes before melting back into a thoughtful expression. That was all William needed to confirm his suspicions. “Am I now? Well, Professor.” Sherlock grinned as he made his way out the door, eyes dancing. “You’ll just have to find out for yourself, won’t you?”
With that, the door clicked shut, leaving William standing there a tad breathless.
“Evenings with Sherlock Holmes?” Moran’s voice cut through his surprise, making him turn. “So that’s where you’ve been?”
“I’d give it a month.” Bonde nodded beside him, something knowing in their expression.
“Half of that, given how direct William is.” Moran shared a grin with his companion.
“If you two are so eager to snoop, might I inquire about your mission details?” William asked cooly, taking small satisfaction in the way they squirmed. “I take it you two haven’t actually gotten to it yet, have you?”
“Heading out now, Will!” Moran reassured, moving past the blonde with Bonde on his heels. “When you hear from us again, we’ll have information for days!”
“Yes. Oh, and William.” Bonde turned one last glance at him as they passed, eyes glittering. “He’s rather fond of brandy. Takes any immediate worries right off his mind. He’d be more focused on…important things.” They winked just as Moran dragged them out the door, leaving a wide eyed William standing by once again, this time his cheeks a tad pink.
~~~
It wasn’t long before the whole tickling thing became part of their evenings together.
Occasionally, without much warning, Sherlock would find ways to poke and prod William’s side whenever they sat at the bar together. It was never longlasting- short little jabs that briefly shocked him back to reality if he started to space out or grew lost in thought. The detective would giggle like a child whenever he did it, the soft sound unfairly charming.
Of course, William wasn’t the type to take such jabs without a fight. It hadn’t taken long before he started returning the favor, sneaking little prods and pokes into Sherlock’s ribs whenever he walked by towards his seat or on his way out. It never failed to get quite the reaction from him- Sherlock would all but fly out of his seat, cheeks dusting a bright pink before his glare melted away into something William couldn’t quite describe.
Their silly game didn’t remain at the bar. In cases they ended up taking together by chance or the impromptu meetup on trains or parties, they had found ways to subtly jab at each other. Never during important times of course, but rather during the quiet hours when stress was lingering. The blonde would be lying if he said he didn’t find the little pokes reminding him of Sherlock’s presence comforting. It was a nice way to step out of the Lord of Crimes mindset and into his own. Into “Liam” as Sherlock would put it.
Accidental meetings turned into more commonplace like the bar, and before long it wasn’t unlikely to see London’s most prominent detective side by side with the bewitching Mathematician; the two of them laughing about whatever as they wandered home, Sherlock pink from alcohol and William all but dragging him back to his home. If rumors existed regarding the details of their relationship, William didn’t know. He preferred not to think about that. It was bad enough his fellow crime consultants were wagging brows at him and tossing out offhanded advice regarding Holmes (and of course- Louis scowling at the name); the idea of the whole town whispering about it…
“Oi, you’ve gone quiet, Professor.” A poke to the ribs brought William right back to the dark streets of London, the smell of cigarettes and cologne floating beside him. “Tell me- what’s on your mind, ol chap?”
“You’re rather drunk, are you?” William asked with a laugh, steadying a swaying Sherlock with one hand. “I told you not to down that last Brandy.”
“Sorry, love. I’ll be sure to listen to the Misses next time.” Sherlock grinned, yelping on a laugh when the blonde shoved him. “Wow, you’re strong, Liam!”
“No, you’re just out of it.” He scanned the streets, creating a mental map in his mind. Without a carriage, the walk to Bakers’ street would take all night. Not to mention the earful they’d both get from Miss Hudson. Deciding to risk the wrath of his brother, William took Sherlock’s arm in his, pulling him along towards home. “Let’s go. You can sleep on the couch tonight.”
“The couch? Oo, I really pissed off the Misses tonight, huh?” Sherlock’s tipsy laugh filled the empty streets as they carried on.
~~~
“Huh. Nice place you’ve got.” Miraculously- Sherlock seemed to sober up almost immediately upon arriving at the Moriarty Estate. Lying across the offered couch, he snuggled in more with a content hum as William brought water and bread. “No surprise a nobleman such as yourself would be living in something so tasteful. Not a single foul odor in the air.”
“Thank you. My brother- along with our housemates- we take care of the place well.” William gestured for him to sit up, offering the water first. “I’d say drink this, but from what I’m seeing, you’re rather oriented.”
“Heh, don’t be fooled by a man’s cover, Liam. I’m definitely buzzed.” Sherlock took the glass, gulping down the contents with a single swig. The bread came and went nearly as fast. “Thank you- That should keep me going a while longer.”
“Right…I’ll bring you a sleep robe and a blanket.” William nodded, turning to go. “Stay put-” Arms suddenly came around him, pulling him back into a broad chest. “Whoa-Mr. Holmes, what are you doing?”
“Liam, I’ve told you. Call me Sherlock.” The brunette grinned in his ear, sending shivers down the blonde’s spine. “Why rush off to bed? You and I’ve got unfinished business.”
Dear lord he couldn’t mean-
“While I’m flattered by the offer, I’d rather we not do it here in the main room.” William started to gently undo the arms around him, a tad irritated when they didn’t budge. “Poor Fred- he tends to get rather hungry at this hour. I’d hate for him to witness something unsightly.”
“Oh I’m sure he’d witnessed this before. Unless you mean to tell me your companions never saw you so…vulnerable?” Sherlock teased, the hand around his waist moving to lie flat against his stomach, fingers poised. Only then William understood what he was intending.
“My word, you’re truly a boar, you know that, Mr. Holmes?” He shook his head with an embarrassed laugh, mentally scolding himself for thinking…why had he been thinking that? “I’m starting to understand now what he meant-” The fingers against his stomach curled, pressing inward and sending a sharp bolt of ticklish electricity up his core.
“I’ll have to ask who “he” is later. For now, our business.” Sherlock carried on clawing gently, deeply satisfied at the way William pressed his mouth flat, squirming in his arms. “You said, if I recall, “Catch me if you can, Mr. Holmes.” Now I have. Come on Liam, we both know you’re ticklish. Why bother hiding it?”
“It-It’s not a mahhahtter of thahaht!” William grunted, grabbing the wrist around his middle as Sherlock started tracing circles with his fingers. “Everyone’s asleheheep! Yoohohu’ll wake thehem up!”
“I won’t- I’m barely speaking over a whisper. You on the other hand.” At this, Sherlock brought his free hand up, gently squeezing against the spot on William’s waist he knew was ticklish. “Are rather loud when giggly. Try not to make too much noise now, dear Liam.”
“Yoohohohu scohoohoundral!” William swore, one hand pressed over his mouth to muffle the noise as his other batted at Sherlock’s. Squirming against his lap, he felt like a child again- Jack gathering him up when he refused to take a break and tickling him until he gave in. It was both comforting and embarrassing- he was so incredibly thankful said man wasn’t up right now. Who knows what little secrets Jack would let slip had he seen such a sight? “Shehhherlock, doohohohn’t!”
“Don’t what, Liam? Don’t stop tickling you? I suppose that’s what you want me to do, right?” Sherlock laughed softly against his back, hands carrying on their playful assault. “You know how I know this? Deduction. If you really wanted me to stop tickling you, you’d tell me so outright. Instead, you’re barely fighting me off. You and I both know I’m barely holding on to you. All you need to do is stand up, and it’ll be all over.
“But you won’t. You won’t because you're enjoying this. I can feel it, Liam. You’re far too relaxed to be someone who despises tickling, and you’ve even given me more spots to try.” Sherlock ran his hand up his side, giving William’s ribs a proper tap and earning a muffled squeak. “The out remains though. If at any point you grow uncomfortable, just say the word and I’ll retract my hands immediately.”
“Hohohohohohw thohoohoorough of yohoohohou wihihihth yohoohohur deheheheductions!” William gave up on trying to cover his mouth, both hands grabbing Sherlocks wrists as they wormed up and down his ribs, leaving little tickly presses at each pass. Soft giggles and squeaks whispered around the room, somehow still quiet enough not to alert anyone. “Hoohoohohohwehehehhver, yohohohohou fahhahahailed to fahahhahctor in soohoohohmething!”
“Have I now? What would that be?” Sherlock asked with a grin.
“Yohooohohou’ve fohohohohoorgohohohohotten abohohohohut your ohohohohown wehhehehaknehehehehhess!” With that, he shot a hand down to Sherlock’s leg, squeezing only once.
“AH!” Sherlock squawked, slapping a hand over his mouth just as William slapped his own on top, creating a double layer of flesh. They looked around, waiting for a sound. When nothing came, they met eyes, William raising a finger to his lips.
Sherlock puffed against the hands, eyes squinting as he shook with laughter. William barely fought down his own mirth, ducking his head against his arm as Sherlock’s muffled giggles tickled his ears. “Whahat are wehehee, chihildren?” William gasped out as Sherlock howled in their hands, slapping his leg. This only made William laugh harder, covering his face with his free hand. “Stoohhop, stop- we’ll wake the hohohuse!”
“The house is already awake.” A new voice made them jump, twisting around to find a sour faced Louis glaring. His hair was a mess, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses, but it didn’t take long before an assumption crossed his face, turning his glare into a look of shock. “S-Sherlock Holmes?”
“Well, would you look at the time; I better head home now!” Said detective stood, nodding at the brothers politely. “Thank you so much for having me tonight, Liam. Louie.” The nickname earned him a scary look. “Your brother has been the most gracious host, but alas- it’s time for me to part-”
“It’s 2 in the morning.” Louis cut him off, his tone like ice. “No carriages run this late.”
“I’ll find a way.” Sherlock grinned, growing increasingly nervous. Louis cut his eyes to William once before turning back to the detective, shaking his head.
“The spare room is down the hall and to the left. Make yourself comfortable.” Sherlock seemed frozen by the offer, eyes wide and mouth gaping like a fish. “Breakfast is served at 8. If you’re hungry, stick around. If not, be gone by then.” He gestured, sending a nodding Sherlock on his way. Once he was out of the room, Louis turned to his brother. “Will.”
“Louis-” He began.
“Quiet.” He cut him off, shutting his brother up. It was rare for Louis to take on such a tone with him. Usually he reserved it for Moran. “Listen. You are my brother, and I love and respect you with my entire being. You know that will never change.”
“Louis, I don’t understand-”
“I am not some closed minded fool, Will. I know there are many types of love out there, and I’m happy you’re finding yours.” Louis carried on, pointedly ignoring his brother. “That said, Sherlock Holmes? Of all the men you could fancy, why him?”
“What…What, no, Louis!” William flushed as red as his eyes, mortified. “You got it all wrong-”
“Told you.” Moran smirked up at a just as amazed Bonde by the door. “Half a month.”
“That was three quarters at least.” They argued. “I win by default.”
“No way-”
“Can someone tell me why Sherlock Holmes is in our bathtub? Albert asked, understanding in his eyes as he looked at William. “Ah. Nevermind.”
“Who ate the last bread roll? I was hungry.” Fred appeared, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Louis, do we have any scones left from this morning?”
“I’ll make some.” Jack called from the kitchen, earning a chorus of voices ranging from “Oh that won’t be necessary, Jack!” to “Don’t let that old man cook, he’ll poison us all!”
William only held his face in his hands, suddenly very tired.
I honestly feel bad for Zabu and Komao in this episode cause I imagine having someone who you consider to be a close friend (Matakara) to just mysteriously appear back in after being missing for a week and a half. However, something isn’t right with your friend because the moment you, your other friend (Komao) and him are hanging out, he started to act differently in that he starts attacking gang members after one another. Both you and your other friend were clearly concerned but didn’t act on it as he just clearly gone off.
But then weeks later, it has worsen in that your close friend starts going into other gang’s turfs and start beating up gang members one after the another unprompted that you went to your gang leader for advice on how to deal with your close friend before he wrote in calligraphy to say to bring your close friend here.
After the talk, you and your other friend went over to fetch your close friend but you see him beating up several of the rival gang members unconscious. You confront him about it, saying how this isn’t like him to just attack someone out of nowhere but you’re quickly silenced when your close friend if you even knew him at all. Your other friend was also furious at what he said but you stopped him but not long before you heard an announcement from Marito Jin, the leader of Siguma Squad, that he wants to face your close friend in a battle. You and your other friend tried to stop him but he didn’t listen.
And just between the battle, your close friend was close to losing to Marito but then all of a sudden, he got up and kicked the Siguma Squad leader with all he got to the point the latter was knocked out. But it wasn’t enough. Your close friend repeatedly kicked Marito over and over again until he stomped on the latter to knock him out cold. Both you, your other friend and everyone at school were outright horrified at what just happened because you can’t even call it a victorious fight, no it was just brutalization!
Her mind had wandered far away from the vine latticed stone walls and black packed earth that created a sort of gilded cage for her. She hadn’t left the safety of the walls in quite a while and was beginning to go stir crazy. Prior to this position as a fake newly married Lady she was running wild, going where she pleased and doing what and who she wanted. But she understood her assignment would not be completed until the true Lady’s uncle and his forces were eradicated.
But it became increasingly difficult the longer she repressed her urges while having to listen to the Lord and the true Lady sing their carnal calls throughout the night. More times than not she rose to wander the secret passages or the grounds within her stoney prison to fantasize about the man at King’s Landing. There had been an undeniable connection that sparked a light within her, illuminating a reflection of who she truly was. She wanted to feel that familiar warmth course through her veins again and tell him the truth this time. An offer had been made to shelter him dare he try and rip away from the lioness’s grasp but dogs were loyal and she did not have the gold to compete. Still, what if?
Faye had made her toward the eastern gate when she heard the commotion, men — her guardsmen in fact, were ordering a large, cloaked figure to leave. Her heart palpitated, wondering if perhaps fantasy were to creep into reality. Unlikely but a girl could dream.
“What’s all this then?” She asked,straightening her posture to appear more regal than she felt.
“This man says he was invited! We weren’t informed of any guests.” One of them replied, a firm hand brandishing a well polished sword. She doubted it had ever bitten flesh or tasted blood before. And this was not the time for its first feast.
Placing a hand on his arm, she forced him to lower his weapon, allowing her to step closer to the stranger. Once more her heart skipped a beat, sending a flash flood of renewal through her veins. It was him! Try as he might, he could jot hide his appearance beneath the large hood. The charred and blackened skin easily gave him away to her. Sandor had left the lion’s den and found her once more. She wanted nothing but to grab his hand and drag him inside or better yet, take his hand and leave this place. The pair could easily survive on their own but she knew better. As much as she hated playing the part of a Lady she truly did want to help the true one.
“He was long ago by myself. It seems it just took him a while to arrive. Now let him pass,” she couldn’t peel her eyes away from Sandor.
Blood blooms stained his clothes and left her wondering if it was his or someone else’s. Likely a melody of both. A giddiness filled her at the thought of tending to his wounds. They could be alone in the infirmary; the servants sent away.
“I believe the Lord should be made aware first,” the second guard’s warning glance and tone burned away her thoughts like dragon’s breath. It was enough to cause her facade to falter, her own gaze becoming venomous enough to cause the young man to place his hand on the hilt of his blade. His brown eyes grew wide for a fraction of a second before he straightened back up, intricate metal armor clinked noisily as he repositioned himself. She couldn’t blame them for their wariness. Everyone within the walls were well trusted and aware she was merely a decoy. So them wanting to inform the Lord and Lady of her inviting an unknown guest was smart.
“The Lord will trust my faith in someone so you can run along and tell him but that will not stop me from bringing him in and tending to his wounds. This man can be trusted and will be under my watch,” Faye waved her had dismissively and the guards obeyed, stepping aside to allow Sandor in with soured faces. There was no doubt in her mind she would get a lecture about this but it was worth it to her.
She then waved for Sandor to come with her before turning on her heels to begin walking to the infirmary.
When she opened her eyes, the room was completely lit up by the sun coming in through the window, making Katarina startle at the thought she'd overslept. Sitting up in the bed, it took her a whole minute to remember the events of the night prior and realize that she wasn't at the cheap motel room anymore. Lingering for a moment in the comfortable bed, the blonde turned her head to confirm what she already knew-- she'd dozed off in Liam's chest but he'd probably left early in the morning to tend to his business.
Standing up, Katarina went to take a shower, carefully treating to her bruises and even though they hurt less, some looked worse. The one in her face, luckily, had finally settled into a magenta color rather than deep purple and the swollen had gone down considerably. She was surprised to find some clothes to wear on the wardrobe, picking a simple dress, then making her way down the hall.
After a couple of missed turns, she finally found the way to Liam's home office, realizing so when she saw the bodyguards posted by the closed door. They nodded their heads at her and allowed her to step in after knocking gently on the door. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she saw his face, grateful that he'd actually been there for her and it hadn't been just a dream. "Good morning, babe." The blonde greeted him with a soft smile, turning her head towards one of the windows. "Though I'm not sure it's still morning, I actually slept too well."
