Well, hello~!

These events have been referenced or mentioned in other fics, but I've been wanting to actually write it all out for quite some time now. It's not gonna be the wordiest piece, so I hope you're okay with short chapters and really inconsistent updates.


Cécile Levasseur was positive that she had lost her mind.

Dropping out of college so she could work as a bouncer and enforcer for one of Southtown's most notorious crime bosses, Mr. Big, was crazy enough on its own, but doing so while pretending to be a man was batshit insane. Cécile, who was using the hastily conjured alias "King," tried to rationalize her actions on more than one occasion, citing desperation and being fed up with the patriarchy (among other things) as valid reasons for her genderbending shenanigans, but, when it really came down to it, she was pretty sure that the only legitimate explanation for her ruse was that she had flat-out snapped.

And, so, Cécile — no, King — stood in front of a full-length mirror and buttoned her shirt, all the while wondering how the hell she had made it so far without anybody realizing who she really was. Didn't anyone find it strange that the pretty waitress with the nice legs and pointy nose disappeared at the same time a quiet man with a pointy nose and a background in Muay Thai was hired as the new bouncer? Surely, someone must have noticed…?

That one thought — that one worry — filled King with immeasurable anxiety. She didn't want to think about what would happen if even a single person found out about her, but, sometimes, she couldn't stop her thoughts from running amok; her mind would start spinning hypothetical scenarios, each one as unpleasant (and frightening) as the next. Would she be outright killed? Shot in the head and dumped in the ocean for the fish to feed off of? Or maybe they'd make it look like an overdose…? Of all the possibilities, death was definitely the most extreme… but... what if they actually kept her alive? Would they maim her? Douse her pretty face in acid so that she would be permanently scarred? Chop things off? Fingers, toes, ears…? Or, maybe… maybe she'd even be forced into prostitution…?

With a shake of her head (it was best not to think of those things — ever), King finished with her shirt and reached for her pants. She pulled the black fabric over her legs and swore under her breath as she met a little bit of resistance around her thighs. Blessed (or in this case, cursed?) with the coveted hourglass figure, she was using sports bras and tape to keep her breasts smashed as flat as possible, but her ass was another story. She worried that, sooner or later, someone was going to notice that the new guy had very... shapely hips. She took one last look in the mirror: her appearance wasn't the most masculine, but she didn't look very feminine, either, which was strangely unsettling. Nevertheless, it had been good enough for a few weeks now; as long as no one really looked at her, she would be fine.

King let out a deep sigh as she left her bedroom. All she needed to do was put on her bow tie, cummerbund, and shoes, and she would be ready for another night of work. She made a face as she reached for a bottle of cologne and wondered if she would get the chance to cave somebody's nose in, or maybe break a collarbone or two. One of the biggest perks of the job — aside from the pay — was beating the shit out hapless, degenerate schmucks: It gave King an outlet for all of her pent up rage and fed a sadistic streak she hadn't really been aware of until she snagged the gig. She pressed her lips together as she put on her remaining accessories, quickly tied her shoes, and pocketed her essentials before exiting her tiny apartment.

Time to go get paid...

Alright! So let's go over a few things.

...Actually, you know what? Let's not, because there's nothing of note here — not even for any newbies, really, as it's pretty self-explanatory stuff (though if you want a little more background, check out R&D for the deets on how King actually became King).

As always, comments/reviews are always very much appreciated, as I crave validation, but, also, genuinely enjoy hearing from my readers! So don't be shy — tell me what's up!

See you next time~!