#Sicilian card games

[g0dlyunsub]

red herring.

in which spencer can’t stop teasing you about how you constantly try to draw his attention away from your rather flawed board/card game skills.

pairing :: spencer x reader

warnings :: none? some [really slight] sexual tension but it’s mostly spencer being his witty self.

word count :: 1.3k

author’s note :: second post is now up! i’m a sucker for pure fluff that involves constant bickering, especially when it involves spencer’s ginormous brain. mention of his glasses like thrice. i also just realized i missed the opportunity to title this as reid herring, but i'm too lazy to change the cover :3

accompanying song :: show me by mac ayres and chris anderson

you let out a deep sigh before you can stop yourself, and you instantly try to fake cough to mask your disappointment. spencer’s quick to notice, however, and he flashes a smile at you. his glasses hitch up slightly as his nose lightly crinkles, and you can’t help but look and admire. in comparison, your smile is always turned downwards and you’ve never felt comfortable displaying a wide smile like his. 

you’d find his smile to be refreshing any other day, but right now, it’s more of a nuisance than anything. 

“what, can’t admit that you’ve lost the last seven games of chess?” spencer chuckles playfully and rests his chin on his hand. 

you huff in frustration and tap the table with your index finger. “you’ve been playing this game since like what, when you were a week old? your elo rating is probably well above candidate masters and-”

“so what else do you want to try? i’ve handicapped my queen, my bishop, do you want a rook gone next?” the rim of spencer’s glasses gleams under the lighting as he asks, and you hate how everything seems to be on his side. 

“no,” you pout, and tip over your king to surrender. “i want to play something different.” you fold your arms in front of your chest as you speak and lean back in your chair.

“you know, if it helps, i could explain the strategies i used to counter your plays. these seven- well eight games, we’ve played the italian defense three times, the caro-kann setup twice, the sicilian defense once, which is pretty impress-” you cut spencer short when you clear your throat and raise your eyebrows.

“can we not… talk about chess right now?” you pout once again, and push the chess board to the side of the table.

“well. is there anything else that you want to play?” spencer adjusts his glasses as you scratch the back of your head in contemplation.

“old maid. i’m a natural at that game,” you suggest, and you notice the corner of spencer’s lips tug into a smirk.

“oh, i bet you are. try me.” confidence oozes from his words and your heart beats just a little faster. he’s enjoying this a little too much.

“i’ll deal the cards.” you grab a deck of cards from the drawer of your desk and shuffle the cards in a swift and fluid manner.

“that’s right, in a classic two-player situation for a deck of 1 card to a deck of 51 cards, the latter of which is the standard for a game of old maid, the expected probabilities for the dealer winning are always higher than the non-dealer. if you’re really going for the win, i’d recommend playing with a smaller deck of cards, but the difference is really minimal. you’re looking at a simulated probability of 50.4 percent with 51 cards versus 51.8 percent with 23 cards.” spencer rolls the facts off his tongue like it’s common sense, and you blink rapidly in stunned confusion. he’s playing it off with a goofy smile again. ugh.

the next hour is filled mostly with intense silence, and you could swear a part of your brain was going to short circuit from mental exhaustion any minute. 

“is it… here? hm?” spencer observes your facial expressions for any note of change, but you wouldn’t give it to him. you remain unphased as his fingers trail between your cards and pull the rightmost card from your grip. 

your heart makes an ecstatic turn when he takes the old maid and it takes everything in you to suppress your smile. so much for being a profiler.

your excitement doesn’t last, however, when he slightly cocks his head to the side and starts to shuffle his cards. it’s endgame, and you might be able to come out of this with your first victory. 

you lean in ever so slightly, brushing your fingers atop each card and pausing in between. your eyes lock onto his hazel beads, and neither of you blink. 

“it’s not this card.” you move to the next card, and spencer raises an eyebrow.

“are you sure? you know, statistically speaking, when one shuffles their deck of-” your hand snakes under his cards and you lay a finger to his lips. 

“shh, i’m trying to concentrate,” you whisper, and everything goes silent. the tension between the two of you hangs suspended in the air and it’s increasingly harder for you to focus on the game. in fact, you’re thinking of everything but the cards in front of you. 

you draw in a deep breath and settle on the card that sits second to last in his right palm. when you turn the card over, a frown instantly overtakes your face. the old maid had instantly made its way back into your set of cards.

the rest of the game is torturous; each turn, spencer discards his pairs one by one, and your disappointment seeps through your loud sighs. 

you set the last card on top of the messy pile of pairs. it’s a loss, again. 

“spence, i’d beat you in any target game like darts.” you lift your head with an exhausted groan.

“you know, phil taylor, a 16-time world darts champion, is often cited to utilize geometry to his strategic advantage since he aims for the triple 20 section, which is one of the highest scoring areas of the board. it takes practice, of course, to nail the angle down, but an estimation of the dart's projectile motion offers great leverage to your precision.” he looks at you as you start to stack up the cards and stuff them back into their case.

after a pause, he continues: “can i not impress my favorite person once in a while?" he reaches for your hand to interlace his fingers with yours. 

his thumb rubs the cave between your thumb and index finger in a circular motion, and you feel your body relax under his touch. you suppress your excitement at the mention of the word favorite by pursing your lips.

“you always impress me, spence. wait – hey, is that a red herring, coming from you?” you question, pulling his hand towards you.

“perhaps. and i’ll actually address mine, unlike a certain someone…” a sly grin spreads across his face.

“but what about that one time you-” you start, raising your other hand to contest. 

“hm. interesting. that’s your first whataboutist reply in two days,” spencer cuts you off short. what an actual jerk.

he breaks into a small fit of laughter before he waves his hand to control himself. you, on the other hand, aren’t impressed. he stands, his figure towering over you as you remain seated.

“come on, let’s grab a cup of coffee before we head out for the weekend. i’ll walk you home.” spencer motions for you to get up, and you reluctantly follow suit. you’re glad you could spend more time with the witty doctor, but you hadn’t expected to accumulate even more stress after work was over. a cup of coffee is exactly what you need to get a moment of relaxation.

he hands you your cup of coffee and turns to face you while stirring his drink with a coffee stick.

“hey, uh, listen. it’s been really nice playing with you today, and if you wanted to play again sometime, talk about strategies, stuff like that…” he trails off, watching you as you take a sip of your hot drink.

“of course, if you’ll ever consider adopting me as your apprentice,” you jokingly respond, and a glimmer surfaces in his eyes. before he can respond, you lean in and embrace him. 

“i’m just kidding. invite me for a card game any time.” you look up so your forehead sits right under his chin. he’s surprised at your sudden move, but he sets his cup down and returns the hug.

“poker next?” 

“oh hell no. get out of here.” you laugh and take his hand as you walk out of the office while he desperately scrambles for his cup with his free hand. both of your laughs echo down the hallway and trail behind as the elevator doors close.

[eternitas]

Unseen Varia - Profiles

(yaaay first of the new character profiles! Let's fill the Seconds in Command roster!)

Zarria Albo

Basic Info:

Full Name: Zarria Albo

Nickname: Zarri, Z, that sicillian woman, The reaper, (Tyrs) executioner

Age: 44

Birthday: [IN PROGRESS]

Gender/Pronouns: cis female, she/her

Sexuality: undisclosed

Ethnicity: italian, siccilian specifically

Height: 185cm

Flametype: sun, secondary cloud and storm flame

Weapon of Choice: Scythe

Affiliation: Varia, Sun Division

Position: Second in Command

Languages: italian (mainly sicilian dialect, +SL), spanish, french, english

Strengths: collected, serious, intelligent, strategic, observant, combat, poker and other card games, alcohol tollerance

Weaknesses: way too serious most of the time, depressed, unhappy, cynical, pessimistic, fatalistic

Character Summary:

Zarria has been a part of the Varia when Tyr had still run the place. She saw the takeover by Xanxus and even then knew that this would only cause trouble. She is a very mellowed woman, someone who alway seems serious and to not know any fun, however this is simply her work persona and she is known to have an outgoing and fun personality off the clock. she is someone who does not tollerate bullshit and she often loses patience with the younger members who in her eyes do not take things serious enough, however she also is one of the few that notices and realizes the game Bel plays with Lorenzo. She loves to use her analytical mind and prowess, oftentimes less into combat and more into mindgames, however she does do her work as a support as required. While she isn't great in healing she does have the necesary flame to open the healing boxes she is provided. Under Tyr she was more of a fighter and front woman, but after Xanxus took over she decided to get less involved in the organisation. While she will always reinstate that it was a rightful death in duel, she still seems to harbor some personal feelings regarding Tyr that she never elaborates on.

Background:

Born in Siccily Zarria was early on involved with the mafia, as her parents were already working mafiosi. Growing up in a rough place full of violence, shootouts and turf wars she became a formidable fighter and an exceptional strategist. Early on she managed to make money by outsmarting others and beating them in games, getting a reputation among the townsfolk and get eventually scouted by none other than Tyr himself. Seeing the potential in her he decided to offer her a life as a trainee of the Varia, especially once her parents died and her sister got adopted into a family in north italy. She accepted and became his personal trainee for a good while, learning to use swords before she settled on using a scythe and becoming his executioner.

When Tyr was defeated she should've been angry and pissed and taken revenge but unlike others she accepted his defeat and subsequent death at the hands of Squalo. However she was a long time against accepting Xanxus as a new leader and quite unusual for him, he did not dare to get in a scuffle with her. It took her some time before she decided to get back into the organisation and she took position as Lussurias second in command, even though technically like Lorenzo she has the possibility to become an officer. However she does not see the point in it. Since then she has watched from the sidelines and given her quiet commentary on Xanxus leadership. In her time she managed to make friends with a few of the members and even found a way to get along with Lussuria.

Fighting Style:

Zarria is not someone who enjoys fighting as much as others. For a long time she has been an executioner so her work is to get the kill and that's it. She despises to fight more than she needs to when it comes to work for the Varia, but when she is personally invested in a fight she might just take the extra time. Her scythe has a few anker points that she can use to angle ant turn the blade, but she mostly uses her muscles and agility to peroperly hunt somebody. Her outrageous intellect and strategic thinking also allows her to often outsmart her opponents and catch them unaware.

Trivia:

Zarria likes to play all kinds of strategic games and finds enjoyment in winning. She has battled everyone of her fellow seconds in command in chess, with Lor and Jaque being closest to beating her, but never actually managing. Ser plays with her the most

Zarria refuses to sparr with other members unless it is someone who she believes can stand her Scythe. These include, Leo (battle was interrupted by her), Raphael (also interrupted by her), Jaque and Squalo. The moment she managed to land a hit on Leos torso she immideatly stopped to treat his wound

Zarrias scythe is in fact so sharp it is known to cut anything, which is one of the reasons she will not fight for fun or sparr. It would be way too dangerous.

She wears special metal capped boots to not slice her feet off when she kicks her scythes blade

She speaks the sicilian dialect almost exclusively and will tell people to deal with it if the can't understand her

She does NOT regard Ava as a swordsman, and she hates that his sword that he so atrociously calles "pride" was made from the blade that defeated Tyr. In her eyes that is deeply disrespectful

She has a pretty high alcohol tolerance and likes to go out into bars. She also enjoys food a lot, tho she dislikes overly sweet food

She has strong opinions but knows that it's a waste of time to always voice them. When asked however she will tell them.

Zarria lost all contact with her sister until she found out that she has become a part of the Luna Famiglia. While the two of them don't really have a relationship she is still thankful to Sergey for at least reassuring her that her sister is safe and taken care of

She has met Sergeys oldest sister Maria and has a soft spot for her, which is why she def would cosign Sergeys deep desire to get rid of Marias husband.

Her pupils are pretty much slits, like those of a snake which only gives her even more of an eerie vibe

[adarkrainbow]

Masterpost 17: Mid-season intermission

Cool stuff: Lisbeth Zwerger's H&G - A series of international fairytale crossovers - Hansel and Gretel's (video game?) designs - The H&G puppet opera - A gay fairytale musical - Some French fairytale paintings - Joellyn Rock illustrations for Sicilian folktales - A Dark Fairytale illustration set/card game - The Greek Snow-White (Gripari style)

Illustrations of archetypes: Hansel and Gretel's witch - Cinderella's fairy godmother - Frau Holle (don't hesitate to check the reblogs, there's cool additions)

Asks: About the Sisters Grimm - About Donkeyskin differences - About Disney and obscure fairytales

About fairytale movies: My conclusions about French fairytale movies (one - two) - Damsel and its novel - The Czech Three Brothers movie (part 1 - part 2)

Fairytales in anime and manga: After Meruhen - Otona no Douwa - Mermaid Melody - Fruits Basket - Otomo Katsuhiro's Hansel and Gretel

Various facts: How Mother Goose's stories went from adults-only to children-only - A scandalous Frau Holle statue - An article about the World War I book of fairytales by Edmund Dulac - An article about The Magic Flute and fairytales

About "Frau Holle": part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Romanian witches: Muma Padurii - Baba Cloantza - Baba Dochia

And... Do YOU remember your first fairytale book?

[kinnporsche]

hey guys, i’m back with yet another kinn & porsche rec list! just like with the others, this list is ordered according to length (from longest to shortest), and each fic is by a different author (in order to share the love)! all currently incomplete fics have been marked with (wip). lastly, i would like to thank not only god but also jesus for all the talented writers in this fandom—y’all are single-handedly making this year bearable for me. anyway, please be sure to read the tags, and show the authors some love! [part 4/?]

— silvered perceptions by nuwildcat – explicit / 210k words

Mama told Kinn about the Pull when he was little, weaving a tale of romance and destiny and putting a sparkle in his eye for the mystical shot at meeting someone perfect for him. For the longest time Kinn thought he wouldn’t be lucky enough to know what that was like, until he crashed into a piss-soaked alley while running for his life.

Things haven’t gone quite like Mama said. There’s a whole lot more attitude than Kinn expected, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued. Things aren’t always what they appear to be at first sight. Now, if he plays his cards right, Kinn has a shot at getting the happiness his mother described. Kinn’s always excelled at poker, but this game will test even his skills.

— worthy of love and loyalty by rebellconquerer – explicit / 86.1k words

Things aren’t going great for Porsche. He has too many jobs that don’t put enough food on the table for him and Porchay, but at least they’re together. What happens when Porsche gets recruited to the Theerapanyakul agency by the founder’s asshole son and blackmailed into joining in? Why, sparks fly, of course. In all meanings of the word.

(Or: The spy x handler AU you didn’t know you wanted.)

— my daddy’s got a gun by martynax – explicit / 49.8k words

“I haven’t seen you here before, are you new?”

Porsche blinks at him, because it’s quite a bizarre thing to say. “Um, no. At least, I don’t think so.”

It earns him a cocked eyebrow in response. “So, you have been here before?”

“A few times,” Porsche answers and shrugs his shoulders. He sometimes comes for a free drink from Jom, and to eat the exceptionally good finger food that just lays on the bar for everyone to enjoy. He usually comes during the day, when it’s not as busy as it is right now. “I’m usually here earlier on.”

“Ah,” the man hums, like it makes perfect sense. “So, how much do you take for a night?”

— whittled down by another war by rageprufrock – explicit / 46.6k words

It starts with snide commentary on gelato and ends in a hail of bullets, Kinn running panicked down the filthy back streets around Thonglor Soi being chased by Sicilian shitbags who are pissed he doesn’t want to ferry around their cocaine anymore.

— leveling up ‘series by thewayside – explicit / 35.2k words

Between the handover of power and the monotony of adult life, meetings, and telling other people what to do, he’s exhausted and he barely gets his head above the parapet sometimes. Still, he always finds at least five minutes in his day to text Kinn, close his eyes, and imagine the fun they could have together. Being in a relationship has its perks.

(Or: Post-finale relationship exploration/day in the life of fluff and a lot of sex.)

— cherries in your mouth ‘series by baby_droll – explicit / 32.9k words

“As far as you’re concerned, he’s your baby cousin. Just be nice, and we’ll show him how well-adjusted adults act, so he’ll quit it with the whole ‘I’ve got all this rich boy angst and nowhere to put it’ shitshow. It’s not cute, you know? Throwing a tantrum in nine hundred dollar shoes. Heard auntie yelled at him, called him something unsavory when he gatecrashed tea.”

Kinn doesn’t know why Tawan says that like he’s supposed to know what he means by ‘unsavory.’

(Or: An AU written in the style and dysfunction of a summer Succession episode. Featuring affairs, lake houses, car sex, and the Royification of KinnPorsche.)

— night call by (vesna) mrsronweasley – explicit / 32.4k words

On Kinn’s birthday, Kinn is dragged by Tae and Time to a strip club, where he gets a private dance from a man who calls himself Jom. Kinn is smitten. Things spin out from there.

— in time by achray – mature / 10.8k words

Chay has totally the wrong impression of everything. Except that he isn’t wrong that Porsche, mafia boss, sometimes seems to Porsche himself like an entirely different person to Porsche, broke bartender and failing college student.

— fell in love with the fire long ago by butterflylungs – explicit / 8.4k words

That night Kinn gets a picture of Porsche on the bed, wearing only one of his blazers and briefs. This time Kinn tries to call him, but Porsche texts back that he has an early meeting the next morning and that he has to go to sleep. If he answers the call, hears Kinn’s voice, Porsche fears he’s not going to be able to control himself, and he wants to hold out on Kinn as long as possible.

(Or: Porsche decides to play a game of teasing while Kinn is away on a business trip; it leads to very fun consequences.)

— i’m holy, i want you to know it by kurtstiel – explicit / 7.5k words

“Tell me you only fucked me because it was convenient, and I’ll leave.”

The muscle in Kinn’s jaw tightens. He holds eye contact for only a couple more seconds before his eyes dart away, out towards the city skyline. The distant city lights look like stars, illuminating Kinn’s face in the same way they did at the pier.

(Or: Porsche seeks Kinn out to take back his sense of control after the night of the diamond auction.)

— below the clavicle by androktasia – explicit / 6.9k words

One of Kinn’s hands wraps around the back of Porsche’s head, scratching gently through the short hair at the nape of his neck. It’s addictive, and so, so sweet and Porsche swallows, feeling suddenly miserable. He tugs himself away. Kinn’s hand lingers on his neck as he digs into his pocket and pulls out a tiny plastic bag with a small white pill in it.

Porsche puts the pill into his glass of expensive champagne, and they both watch it dissolve, slowly; bubbles foaming out until the golden liquid has entirely swallowed it up. Kinn raises an eyebrow at him, waiting for an explanation. His hand strokes gently on Porsche’s neck. Porsche smiles blandly as he takes the glass, swirls it gently around, and then tips half of it into his mouth in one go.

Kinn jerks, an aborted motion, grabbing Porsche’s wrist—but he’s too late.

(Or: Porsche drugs himself to re-enact the night of the diamond auction.)

— these, our bodies, possessed by light by concernedlily – explicit / 4k words

“You think? You were such an asshole that night. This is my territory. This is where I fucked my girls, you know that? Maybe I’d have got you.”

(Or: Set during the episode 11 visit to Yok’s bar—Kinn and Porsche revisit the place where they first met.)

— squeeze a little, tease a little more by mirrorofprinces – explicit / 3.4k words

Porsche knows he’s tucked up well under the desk, theoretically completely hidden, but all it would take is an accidental noise to give him away, or for a pair of wandering eyes at the exact right angle to catch a glimpse of his socked feet. The idea doesn’t entirely put him off.

— first impressions by airgiodslv – teen / 3.2k words

There’s movement in Bank’s peripheral vision, and fuck, thank god, but fuck, Mr. Kinn is standing there in the doorway, warily taking in the scene.

“Porsche,” he says. It’s completely neutral, an invitation for explanation. Bank pants for breath and calculates his best chance of stopping Mr. Porsche if he tries to swing Bank’s gun toward Mr. Kinn. Based on the way this has gone so far, his odds aren’t great.

“Kinn,” Mr. Porsche answers cheerfully. “We were just waiting for you.”

— begging for belief by piecrust – explicit / 2.7k words

In his darkest moments—in the moments where he’s not allowed to be anyone other than his father’s son—Kinn wonders if Porsche is doing all of this on purpose.

(Or: An extra scene at the end of 1x08.)

[bilberry-jam]

You asked if I had any thoughts on Milva and I do actually! Her full name is Maria which is of italian origin and Milva is likely italian too. Her last name, Barring, can be traced to england and ireland so I like to think she's Sicilian-Irish! Also she *is* mentioned in the first Witcher game by Dandelion and has two Gwent cards in the third so they didn't completely forget about her in those it's just kind of easy to miss :')

Thankyou :D

And yeah, I just want to interact with her in game perhaps is all :')

[airenyah]

sometimes i feel like i missed out on a lot of "italian-ness" bc we stopped going there on a regular basis when i was 9 and i hardly ever saw that side of the family but then i come across a video on youtube titled "southern italians arguing" and it's just a civil (but lively) discussion about a card game the men were in the middle of playing and i'm getting flashes of what it sounds like when my sicilian dad gets real angry and it reminds me of that one time last year when i was working as an intern at a theater (in austria) and one of my tasks was to feed the actors their lines during rehearsals and one time the lead actor came up to me saying "i'm sorry that i'm always so snappy and impatient when i ask for my lines" and i went "this is nothing?? no offense taken"

or this other time, i can't remember if it was at that theater as well or if it was a different context (still in austria) but one time someone got a little loud with me (bc they were irritable and it didn't have anything to do with me or anything that i'd done) and afterwards those who were witnessing the situation were telling me "you do know you don't have to let yourself be treated like that and that you can tell them off, right?" and i was just there like ".......wait i was getting yelled at just now????"

i'm so used to my sicilian dad (and my half-sicilian brother) getting loud at any random minor inconvenience that it for real didn't even register that this person was "yelling" at me for austrian standards, ESPECIALLY since i knew i hadn't done anything wrong and it was all them and their bad mood at the time. and while i did realize that this person wasn't having the best of times in that moment, the fact that they were getting loud at me just simply didn't register. my brain honest to god just went "ah yes this is a completely Normal volume for this level of bad mood, cool cool" and i just kept chilling while everyone around me went "the audacity?? how could they be so rude to you?? are you okay??"

[dangeroussicilianhousewife]

I wouldn’t normally share photos taken in a supermarket. In fact, I wouldn’t normally take photos in a supermarket.

But Sicilian supermarkets are different.

First I got distracted at the fish counter.

Then I couldn’t decide which cheese to choose.

Moving in closer didn’t help.

By the time we got onto the salami I was a wreck.

Let’s not forget some giant vegetables, shall we?

Carbohydrates, anyone?

Mamma Mia! I nearly forgot we would need a tiny weeny cup of authentic Italian coffee to finish our meal.

  Christmas is coming!

Don’t forget the stocking fillers!

SICILIAN CARD GAMES

Buy the bestselling pocket edition or the full colour large format edition with three bonus games. Also now available in the Italian language!

You can also buy packs of Sicilian playing cards on amazon and many websites.

      A trip to Sicily and it’s Rather Fishy I wouldn't normally share photos taken in a supermarket. In fact, I wouldn't normally take photos in a supermarket.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

i uh may or may not have just binge-read through all of your writing over the past few days...it's so good!!!!!!! im screaming crying throwing up etc. 🥹🥹🥹 can i request: villain challenges hero to a game (could be a card game, chess, tug-of-war lol anything that you want!). the terms are if the villain wins then the hero steps aside and lets the villain carry out their evil plan without resistance. and at first the villain is super cocky because they think the hero is out of their element...but then the villain loses. >:)

Responding with the Sicilian Defense is usually seen as aggressive and the hero had to learn the hard way that this term perfectly described the villain’s play.

Their moves were calculated and anything but irrational. They attacked where they could and took piece after piece. It made the hero think of an unforgiving conquest as they struggled to protect their bishops and knights.

“You seem nervous,” the villain purred. They smiled to themselves when they moved a pawn to threaten the hero’s rook. “Which you should be. Your defense is laughable.” 

“I am sure it is,” the hero said, moving the rook quickly. “I usually play chess for fun and not with the pressure of thousands of lives on my shoulders.”

“Oh, come on. This is fun,” they said as they attacked the rook again. 

“Feels more like war.”

“Same difference.” The hero looked up at their opponent, raising their brows at the delusional impudence. At first, they had been surprised that the villain had chosen black. White always starts, so it was somewhat capable of controlling the start of the game. In the hero’s mind at least. 

But when the villain moved their pieces, they saw in the patterns that they used them to mock the hero. Hunting their queen across the board with their bishops, threatening them with pawns — black was answering white’s calls and it was to embarrass the hero. 

They swallowed. 

“I sometimes forget how violent you are,” the hero lied. They took the villain’s knight and lost a bishop. Definitely not ideal but sadly necessary to protect their queen. 

“You insult me, really,” the villain said. They hummed as their eyes went over the board with a wild interest the hero had never really seen before. The whole game entranced them, brought out a side of them foreign to the hero. 

The hero castled before the villain could check them. 

“Didn’t mean to,” the hero said. If you weren’t a criminal, the hero thought, if you weren’t like that, I would like to be your friend. It was a silly thought, a childish dream that was quite impossible to achieve. The villain was an interesting person but the distance put between them would never allow the hero to actually get to know their enemy. 

They didn’t like going into battle without knowing the one they were fighting but they were also aware of the dangers of understanding someone. Long ago, they had trusted people they shouldn’t, understood their motives, felt for them and if that happened with the the villain, they didn’t know if they could call themselves a hero after that. And yet…

“Oops,” the villain said, placing another piece.

It dawned on them too late, chatting too much and thinking about their relationships was throwing them off. The villain had cleverly put pressure on the hero’s queen and the hero hadn’t been able to defend her. They would have to sacrifice her. Shit, they couldn’t even trade. 

“She wasn’t my type anyway,” the hero said casually, shrugging as they put another pawn forward. The villain giggled and as stupid as it was, the hero liked that they’d made the villain laugh.

As they took their queen, the villain was as cheerful as a kid with a full supply of candies. However, that was the villain’s first mistake. 

In this exact moment, the hero became aware of their own slip-ups. They’d been so afraid of understanding the villain. They’d been so afraid that if they actually got to know them, they would end up miserably. 

The thing was, they already knew them. They knew them ever since their first move.

The battle across the board went on slowly, and concentrating more on the villain’s moves than their hands, the hero forced themselves to be careful with their pieces. One time, the villain commented on the hero’s pawn placement, saying it was adorable but the hero only nodded absentmindedly, slipping into offense instead of defense. 

Step by step, the board cleared and the villain found themselves with a knight and their last rook while the hero could only rely on their pawns. 

“You wanna give up? Would be less painful.” The hero was more confident than before, especially because they had stopped thinking about the villain and started thinking like the villain. 

They knew the villain would chase them across the board again. 

That was their second mistake. 

While the villain had been busy humiliating the hero, the hero had decided to push their pawns forward. One of them had gotten to the end of the board.

“My queen, please,” the hero said politely. It was the first time that the villain didn’t yap a snappy comment. They just gave them the piece in silence and got checkmated in four moves, losing the battle.

The hero smiled as they stared at the villain with their mouth agape.

“Oops,” the hero said. “You were right. This was fun.”

[aresenics]

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄, he’s not one to shy away from it. a carnivorous plant thriving in the soil of mayhem during his youth. but, as he'd entered his thirties, slowly becoming responsible for lives other than his own, he'd also been tasked with the responsibility of changing for the better. not entirely successful, of course, & how he reacts to the attack is proof of that. vero's leaning into his husband's kiss with a shameless groan, allowing them to separate without complain only for the call of cigar smoke that clings in the air, drinking his worth in tequila & a little gambling. a guiltless pleasure that had been shunned out by the sicilian king — who was now occupied & unable to save the poor souls who beckon him over for a quick game of cards. once the confusion starts, shards of metal flying & people are screaming, vero doesn’t think twice before pulling the pistol tucked at his waist, held discreetly against his hip as he pushes his way through the crowd; at first searching for the source, peering past spilled glass & thrown tableware — always having been more than a little trigger happy. however, sooner than one might expect he’s shifting his focus to the safety of his children, his husband, losing count of the bodies that drop beside him. he's conscious of the ringing in his ears, the shrill cries of guests the equivalent of being thrown overseas; shouting muffled by the depths of unforgiving waters. a panicked breath out despite the calm facade of vacant expression. there's a looming presence that's tracking behind & he turns around with haste, the nozzle of cooled gun nearly touching a potential victim. his finger itches on the trigger & he isn’t sure what's stopped him from pulling it, but he’s unquestionably glad that he did. there he stands at the edge of it, staring at him like he’s the only person in the room & the younger man can’t help but feel the same. without hesitation he's shoving the weapon away, crossing the distance between them & grappling at diego's collar with a shaky hand as he presses their foreheads together. ❛       por favor dime que estas bien,      ❜   he whispers with indignance, needing to be convinced, having to be convinced not to start an absolute riot & go after the french monarch himself. fawn hues darken with each passing patron that threaten to shove & stampede over them, crushing the seafarer closer to his chest until they're practically seared into each other's skin. a primal instinct that'd been instilled within him the moment they'd sailed through treacherous waves & exchanged heated glances in lieu of barked orders, digits moving to grip the taut muscle of diego's shoulder in a silent signal: we have to move. now.

true  to  his  name,  there's  a  hint  of  truth  in  vero's  comment  —  diego  is  decidedly  not  in  the  ideal  mental  state  for  politicking.  it  pulls  a  laugh  out  of  him,  a  low  rumble  of  a  sound  that  shakes  the  both  of  them,  considering  the  way  he's  blanketed  against  his  husband's  back.  "  that  is  not  far  from  the  truth,  "  he  muses,  already  beginning  to  strategize:  how  would  he  greet  the  king?  a  handshake  or  a  bow?   "  his  family  has  been  ruling  for  centuries,  and  our  home  is  only  as  old  as  i  am. "   his  pondering  is  halted  in  its  tracks  when  vero  turns.  diego  loosens  his  arms  to  let  him,  his  thoughts  moving  syrupy-slow  as  familiar  fingers  skate  over  his  torso,  intertwining  with  the  fabric  around  his  neck  &  pulling.  it  draws  a  shudder  out  of  him,  same  as  it  always  has  —  twenty  years  together  &  he  still  feels  pole-axed  every  time  vero  touches  him.  he  really  considers  the  proposition  for  a  moment  (  damn  it  all,  the  politics  &  the  party  alike  ),  but  by  some  miraculous  stroke  of  divine  intervention,  he  finds  a  thread  of  self-restraint  within  him  &  steels  himself.  "  vuelvo  enseguida.  no  más  de  quince  minutos,  lo  prometo. "  words  murmured  so  close  that  their  lips  brush  together  as  he  speaks  —  and  he  seals  the  promise  with  a  bruising  kiss.  it's  another  miracle  that  he  manages  to  compose  himself  enough  to  actually  peel  himself  away  from  vero  &  stride  off  in  the  king's  direction.

TIME SKIP !

 if  the  circumstances  were  different,  diego  might've  thought  it  was  humorous  that  chaos  struck  before  he  ever  reached  the  french  king.  a  cruel  joke,  yes,  but  he  would've  conceded  that  to  the  universe,  applauded  it  for  its  cleverness.  but  there  is  no  room  for  humor  in  him  as  he  navigates  the  thrashing  sea  of  people.  he  finds  luca  first,  santiago  next  —  and  as  relieved  as  he  is  to  see  each  of  them,  his  heart  sinks  with  each  passing  second.  nothing  good  ever  comes  in  threes.  he's  got  his  bandana  pulled  up  over  his  mouth  &  nose,  the  smoke  starting  to  take  its  toll,  eyes  wild  as  he  surveys  the  crowd,  shouldering  through  it  steadily.  it's  like  searching  for  a  man  overboard  &  he  knows  from  decades  at  sea  that  the  odds  of  finding  someone  once  they  succumb  to  the  waves  are  next  to  none.  "  VERO  —  "  he  calls,  voice  booming  over  the  roar  of  the  crowd,  a  volume  practiced  in  the  worst  of  storms.  and  then  —  he  catches  a  fleeting  glimpse,  just  a  hint  of  his  beloved,  and  his  efforts  double,  pushing  ardently  towards  that  familiar  figure  until  he's  in  earshot.  "  VERO  !  "  he  calls  again,  a  captain's  call,  &  with  one  final  shove  of  a  poor,  unsuspecting  guest  (  god  save  anybody  who  gets  in  between  them  ),  he's  out  of  the  fray,  closing  the  distance.

[dolce-tenebra-toscana]

LA SQUADRA CHRISTMAS HEADCANON CAUSE TODAY IT'S PANDORO DAY YAAAAY!! ( Also i feel a lot better, thanks for the support you beautiful cinnamon buns )

Risotto ✂️: During christmas time he suddenly disappears and nobody knows why, but the rest of La Squadra learned the hard lesson of NEVER MIND RISOTTO'S BUSINESS...The punishment is long and painful..But truth is, he goes undercover as a "normal" 28 year old guy and, with the support of the local charity organisation, brings presents to the kids who lost one or both parents in a street accident. To them Santa isn't a fat guy dressed in red, but a tall af goth man with red eyes.

Prosciutto 🍖: He likes to be alone in this time of the year, too many hypocritical and chaotic parties in his family. So the 24th of december he says goodbye to his fellow teammates and hides inside his apartment till the whole deal is over. The fireplace lighting up the room, a nice glass of Passito di Pantelleria( a sicilian wine) nearby and a book. In the end, he truly doesn't need much to be happy.

Melone 🍈: Our fave purple weirdo is a man of science, so christmas doesn't mean that much to him. But he LOVES christmas movies; in fact he loves it so much he forces the entire team to watch every year a different one: he gets, blankets, hot cocoa ( with alcool inside of course), matching ugly sweaters and socks. They all sit on the carpet or the old sofa in the lair's living room and watch whatever Melone wants, they know his past and for once, they are glad to see him enjoy something normal for once.

Formaggio 🧀: Growing up in a very big and traditional italian family, he is more attached to this festivity than anyone in his team. He was also an only child, but had tons of cousins so whenever the whole family met up chaos ensued. Wine, tons of lasagne, board games, using Pandoro and Panettone's box as helmets to play knights...For sure they weren't the richest family in Centocelle, but they were close, and for Maggio that was everything. With his job now he doesn't have much time to visit, but he sends christmas cards to every single member of his famiglia every year.

Iluso 🔍: Best at gift giving, hands down on that. He spies regularly on his teammates, 80% cause he is a lil " stronzo " and 20% cause he cares...a tiny bit. Being also the sneakiest he changes locations to hide the presents every year so no one knows where he puts them; and he'll never admit that the smile that grows on his face whenever Pesci finds a brand new fishing gear, Risotto smells the aroma of his favourite coffee brand...maybe, just maybe is truly genuine.

Ghiaccio 🧊: You are a mean one..Mr Grinch...That's his theme song, and you won't change my mind. This blue angry Veneto gremlin HATES Christmas with all his heart. The only thing he appreciates is the fact that his teammates bring him in their garage and let him destroy a christmas tree ( complete with decorations and fake presents under the branches) with a baseball bat. And between the loud bangs and shattering glass sounds, people can clearly hear him screaming " TE DAGO NA SMEMANA, TO SOREA VACAAAAAAAAAA!!! ( i'll beat you to pulp, your sister is a cow)" It happens every year, and he is silently glad for the effort they put to make the tree more resistent everytime.

Pesci 🐟: The one guy that secretly believes in Santa even at 20 years old, they tried to break his christmas spirit but nobody succede in this. Making Dinner, decorating the tree, going to the midnight Mass the 24th of December...Pesci does everything in his possibilities to spend every christmas like he did when he was a child. He had a wonderful time as a kid and he wants for his teammates to feel the same joy and enthusiasm like he did...fails everytime cause c'mon we are talking about La squadra but hey, there's still next year.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE, THANK YOU FOR EVERY LIKE, REBLOG, COMMENT, SUPPORT JUST... THANK YOU.

I say this with all my heart, have a wonderful day whatever you are doing 💕 Cause you all deserve happiness and joy, you wonderful chocolate chip cookies 💕💕

[katherinewilliams221b]

Our Time To Bloom Chapters

Summary:   Two months after the war, the couple is more distant than ever. Kate  accompanies her grandfather on a trip to Ireland, where her past and  present will collide in unexpected ways.  Charlie stays in Romania with a decision to make: will he follow her and uncover all unsaid things? Romance/Drama /Mystery

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Kate Williams (hphm mc, original female character)  established relationship  

1930 - Imogen Elopes

Lost

Will ye go, lassie?

1933 - Potion Making

So, fare thee well

Secret Garden Inn

The Serch Bythol

1933- Ghost Stories

Unblock

Walsh & Son Broomsticks

1934 - The Three Mosqueteers

The Apuseni Program

Eric Jackson

A Misplaced Paper

1934 - Treasure Map

53 Years

A Night In Cork

1937 - Flannigans’ Last Day

The Hidden Farm in Ballymore

Suspicious Behaviour

Sicilian Defence

1939 - In Lebor Ogaim

The Squib’s Curse

What I Should Tell You

Aresto Momentum

Cards On The Table

Cap’n Walsh, At Your Service

1939 - It Was Right Here

Like Maimeó, Like Gariníon

Star Of The County Down

More Than Justified

What Happens in Marlogue Woods

Shared Dreams

1941 - In Loving Memory

You Can See Them, Too

I Thought I Knew You

A Well Kept Secret

Rocky Road To Dublin

I’ve Just Lost A Cat

Fód te

1941 - A Kids Game

The Wake

Mr Mulloy’s Coffin

The Woman With Green Robes

Magical People

As Simple As That

Want A Ride, Gorgeous?

Big, Flashy and Crowded

Pub Crawl

No Time For Springsteen

1942 - It’s Safe With Us

Revelation

Sam’s Proposition

Legend of Cliodna

Claddagh Ring

Cavan Girl

Following Instructions

Legally Binding

Kiss The Stone

Brú na Bóinne

The Great Dispute

Unbreakable Vow

Forbidden Access

1945 - Frown Upon

Arm in Arm, Row in Row

These Are The Hands

Á Stor

Lift Your Hearts And Sing With Us

Night Escapade

1945 - On Board

And When I Return

YES.I.KNOW.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Wait talk to me about the 365 movies lol. Always wanted to try them 👀 how is it in terms of the love story/sex scenes?

So here's the thing.

I love these movies. I love them with all my heart. The first movie is a literal comfort watch for me.

They are not for everyone, and I think you should know outright--these are adaptations of a dark, mildly taboo erotic romance series and they play the genre completely straight. There is no... acquiescence to good taste or morality. Like, deadass. The things I think everyone should know about before watching the movies that could possibly turn you off are:

--romanticization of the mafia, hardcore. I am not Italian (unless you count the Italian background on my mom's side according to 23andme, which I don't take seriously because I'm not an asshole); I've lived in Italy, I've taken courses on mafia history, I know people who've been negatively affected by the mafia. The various branches of the Italian mafia (Cosa Nostra is probably what the movie refers to, because it's largely set in Sicily and focused on Sicilians, but I honestly can't be sure because the author of the original books was Polish and frankly I don't think she did a lot of research or intended to represent the mafia accurately) are basically domestic terrorist organizations, full stop, which affect the nation to this day. I'm not going to argue with people who say that mafia romance novels or movies like this or even movies like The Godfather (which portrays the mafia negatively but also romanticizes it to an extent) shouldn't exist. I will say that there is no component of the mafia in these movies that is... accurate, or at all attempting to say "this is what the mafia is like". If you watch 365 DNI and say "they are convincing the masses that the mafia is like this", I don't know what to tell you. 365 DNI doesn't even attempt to portray Americans accurately.

--(Light, imo) BDSM and rough sex. People who tell you that this film is a rip off of 50 shades... No. It's a different thing. I would say that 365 plays into BDSM a lot more, not just in terms of the way that Massimo and Laura have sex (which is super explicit, but is not like. THAAAAT crazy) but the way she teases him and toys with him and the way he responds aggressively--which is what she wants. If you don't like the idea of throat grabbing, the heroine having her face presses into the pillow while she's getting fucked, and fairly rough sex in general? Don't watch this movie.

--Dubcon, which I hold separately because it is separate. Though there's basically nothing dubious about the second movie, I will say; she's fully in on the game by then. The entire setup of the first movie is that Massimo has Laura drugged and kidnapped (he also has her shitty boyfriend drugged so that he can have incriminating photos taken of him, but frankly Martin sucks so I'm neither here nor there about it). He then tells her that he will not touch her unless she basically gives in and wants it; he says this while playing with her nipples, lol. 365 very much plays the dark romance dubcon game of "I don't want to want it, but I do". The actress is playing responsively to the actor. Laura says she doesn't want to be there, but as soon as she is given a chance to get away (which is quite early) she just... doesn't do anything. Like, she has her phone and laptop, she talks to her mom, and is like "I'm good". BECAUSE SHE IS HAVING FUN LMAO. It's nothing close to reality, it's all fantasy. She's going on a shopping spree using her kidnapper's black card, and he walks in on her trying lingerie and is like I CAN SEE THIS WHENEVER I WANT and she's like "sure lmao". It's a heightened brat/dom thing.

So in terms of the love story, I personally really enjoy it because though I will never say it is deeply written (there are things they write into these movies that never get referenced again lmao, like Laura's weak heart which somehow doesn't stop her from having acrobatic sex every day) the connection between the actors is great. Michele Morrone and Anna Maria Sieklucka may or may not be an item in real life at this moment, but I'm fairly certain they've fucked around off camera at minimum and it shows. Their chemistry is insane, and it goes a long way. It's like a beauty and the beast type of setup where she's held "against her will" but he wants to learn how to be gentle for her. And their contrasting personalities are honestly very fun to watch, because he's truly insane, yet also kind of the emotional bitch in the relationship? I think that's the key to the movies. Massimo is all bark and no bite. He threatens, but he really doesn't... go there with her. He's aggressive, but he's not a whiny loser like Christian Grey. And she, in turn, has! Her! Own! Life! Laura is a grown woman who's been in a long term relationship, is sexually dissatisfied, has a killer job--she doesn't neeeeed him the way Anna in 50 Shades always seemed like she neeeeeded Christian.

As for the sex... To piggyback off of the other 50 Shades comparisons, lol. There's no comparison. I've seen a lot of graphic sex scenes in TV and film. These may be... the most... graphic I've ever seen outside of sex that I know isn't simulated. They claim it's all simulated in these movies, and I believe some of it is. Some scenes... I'm not so sure. I feel pretty certain that I saw some real penetration in the first movie, lol. They're GREAT sex scenes. The connection between the actors is fantastic, they both just fully go for it (he looks in her eyes before spitting lovingly into her pussy in the first movie; she fully coats a sex toy in her own saliva in the second, lmao) and it's super fun. I've watched the first movie with my mom and my sister, lol, I don't care--but it's probably the most graphic shit I've seen in a movie that is not specifically saying "these are unsimulated sex scenes". And it's VERY female gaze driven. Like, yes, you see everything with everyone (though tbh, I don't think either of them do full on full frontal nudity, just glimpses here and there) but it's very focused on what women want and what Laura specifically wants.

Anyway, I think these movies are really the only things standing between me and total insanity in today's world. I would recommend them, but I would recommend going into them knowing that like... This is being made to satisfy a specific desire, lol. Michele and Anna (and everyone else) are acting in a movie that largely has English dialogue (though also plenty of Polish and Italian, subtitled) and they are both ESL. There are weird fucking lines, odd translations that show that truly, nobody was that concerned with accuracy as long as the gist was right... And I love it. I really, really love it. I just enjoy watching two incredibly hot people fall in love with a surreal, insane backdrop, and fuck like rabbits all over Europe.

[breitzbachbea]

i want to send a ship for the ask game but i can't really find one to send- so i'd love to hear about just your favorite ship from anything, or one you just have a lot of thoughts on!

YOU ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD IMMA TALK ABOUT OCS

You see. My main fandom is Hetalia and in 2013 I had the idea that for a little art trade fanfic, I needed some practical, one-off Human OCs. Just for this one AU story.

9 years later and nothing about this turned out to be one-off. 99% of my writer's output is for this AU monstrosity of its own, where the Hetalia characters now have been joined by over 200 named characters. It's basically Orig Fic with the occasional recognizeable name, cuz I do love the creative freedom, but I also love Fanfiction as an exercise of literary analysis, translating a character from one set of circumstances to another. If anyone wants to read pages upon pages of incoherent OC ramblings for this AU, the tag for it is #storie nostre.

And I AM most mentally unwell about SicIre, my true love, my one comfort ship to end all comfort ships. I will return to my Irishman and Sicilian until the end of time. But I don't want to talk about them.

Instead I keep thinking about Francetto these days, two OCs by the name of Francesco Belfari and Dolcetto Acerbi respectively. They're fixing each other. They're making each other worse. Both of these aspects are interlocked like a rusty set of gears. Dolcetto, who's himself a rather pragmatical bastard with a zest to right the wrongs done to him, isn't afraid of what lurks underneath Francesco's loud and cheerful persona. When Francesco needs to indulge his worst instincts, Dolcetto won't judge him for it and will even be in on the bullshit. They see eye to eye. But Francesco also appreciates that Dolcetto IS pragmatical. More pragmatical than him. More grounded, because he'll be able to pull him back from the abyss when he stared at it for a tad too long. Because Francesco makes Dolcetto want to be kinder, that in turn makes Francesco want to be kinder.

Because Dolcetto in turn doesn't feel inherently worthless and unloveable, someone everyone else would be better off without, as he grows closer to Franci. He feels kind of seen by the dirtbag that Francesco can be, he feels no judgement from the man who watches the entire world with boundless and morbid curiosity. The part of Francesco that IS cheery, that IS caring, that loves so deeply before it crosses the point of destruction makes him believe that there are good things out in the world and that he is worthy of them and wants to give them back.

Does this make any sense to anyone BUT me? No. But I am running on less than 6 hours of sleep, gotta be up at 7 tomorrow and can't sleep. So this is what we're getting. thank you for listening.

[sunder-the-gold]

[Arknights] enemy force composition through the lens of [Magic: The Gathering] Colors

Reunion

A pure Red rush-down deck, as befitting a riotous mob with no greater strategy than burning everything down as quickly as possible. Skullshatterer fits right in, and possibly Talulah as well.

Mephisto's Forces

Mephisto is the very model of a modern asshole necromancer, so Black. Given his consistent lack of air support and his focus on using beefy and brutal Possessed and Enraged Possessed, a combination of Black and Green.

Faust's Phantom Crossbowmen

The combination of avoidance, deception, and directly overwhelming firepower seems Blue and Red. Faust's strategy is to deny his enemies the ability to counterattack while hitting them as hard and quickly as possible.

Yeti Squadron

White/Blue, and one of the best built decks in the game. It was considering how all of their units worked together and within their shared tactics that got me thinking in terms of Magic decks.

The Yeti show White's "weenie" strategy of using a fair number of small, weak creatures that can give advantages to allied creatures or take advantage of opportunities provided by other creatures, and Blue's love of using Artifacts, like the Ice Originium Crystals the Yeti love to plant everywhere. Both colors share the tactic of action denial and control, which Yetis employ through Cold and Frozen status ailments.

Patriot's Squadron

Haven’t gotten that far. Someone suggested White/Red for their aggression but also how coordinated and well-protected they were.

Bounty Hunters (Grani and the Knight's Treasure)

Represented by the same enemies as were used for Reunion, and without any better tactics; so I think the bounty hunters and mercenaries of Grani's adventure were Red.

Big Bob himself was slow, but he was equally brutal -- once he starts moving, he doesn't stop. Unlike other any other boss, he also has NO ramp up; Big Bob is always at full power the moment he enters a fight.

However, Big Bob's personal forces included a lot of snipers and blocker-evading ergates. Combined with his narrative expertise on traps and deception, and we can see that Big Bob's Bounty-Hunters are a Blue/Red outfit that stands out from the pure Red of the other groups. The first time "Big Adam" shows up, his forces are the same.

Siesta Defense Force (Heart of Surging Flame)

Appropriately for their coastal volcano home, this deck is Blue/Red. The agents circumvent defenses by reducing the block count of melee units, the ergates just run right past blockers, the snipers stun whoever they shoot, and the beefy Rockbreakers pull a trick by massively boosting their Resistance when blocked so that they're harder to counter with the usual tank-and-spank of Defenders and Casters.

If you include the slugs, and especially Pompeii, you add more Red to the balance, though the Acid-Spitting Slugs might be Red/Blue.

Sicilian Mobsters (Code of Brawl)

The Sicilians are a pure Red deck assembled with better "cards" and employed with better strategy than Reunion. They also include Red's ability to destroy artifacts, as the Sicilian Fanatics try to destroy the various city terminals.

The Rat King brings a lot of White into the mix, given the protective shields he provides to his GreyTails and himself, and the more organized tactics he employs. But he's also got the massive direct damage of Red. He may have learned subtlety and restraint in his old age, but according to him, he used to be a lot more openly brutal in the past.

Sarkaz Mercenaries (Darknights Memoirs)

Red/White. The Sentinels are very White, with the way they alert and buff all allies on the field, but the Sarkaz Lancers are Red. The Bladeweavers and Worldcursers are Red in the way they've abused their Oripathy for power, but they're tempered enough that they're not destroying themselves right now just to kill anyone in their way, and that restraint is White.

Winterwisps (Twilight of Wolumonde)

The fucking Winterwisps were all Black, especially those damned Bloodshamans. They focus on hurting you lots, on taking you down with them, and on stealing your property to use it for sustaining themselves and hurting you more.

At most, they're also a bit Red.

Mudrock's Squadron (Twilight of Wolumonde)

Green. No air support, and everyone is large and in charge, even the pure caster Matterlurgists. Mudrock and her Golems are merely the logical extreme of this priority. There's a bit of Green's animosity for Artifacts and letting the enemy control the air space in how the Matterlurgists prioritize targeting anyone trying to control or keep control of a Gramophone tower.

Acahualla (Return of Great Chief Gavial)

Pure Green deck. Absolutely no flying units, favors an environment that makes taking the high ground against them tricky, uses various tricks for denying enemies the high ground, and featuring MASSIVELY beefy creatures like the Champions and Big Ugly.

At most, there are some elements of Red.

Roar Knightclub (Kazimierz Major)

The Plastic Knight and his fellow Roar Guards are a weak deck without much to distinguish them, but between using a lot of weenie units, and the strong protection that the snipers start with, I'm going to call them a pure White deck.

Bloodboil Knightclub (Kazimierz Major)

Olmer "Brassrust" Ingra and his fellow Bloodboils are thoroughly Black/Red. They use human waves tactics to soften up the enemy and feed their sadistic bloodlust, so that when they personally march into the fight, they are drunk on death and ready to inflict it. Olmer himself is infamous for his violence and sadism.

Bladehelm Knightclub (Kazimierz Major)

Tytus "Left-Hand" Topola and his Blade Helmet Knightclub are almost pure Black with their debuffs and mental pressure game. They don't merely want to beat you; they want to crush your spirit and sneer at you for succumbing. They might be using some White, especially given the presence of the heavily armored generic knights.

"Snow-Heel" Knightclub (Kazimierz Major)

The Corrupted Knight and Withered Knight lean on Black/Red's most aggressive tactics and raw power. The death of one will send the other into an unholy battle-rage.

================================

I'd be interested to see someone else who is familiar with Riot Games' Legends of Runeterra online card game see if they could make similar associations.

[honeytea8]

La Dolce Vita • Risotto Nero/fem!Reader

A/N: I had the pleasure of doing an art trade with my sweet @string-bean-requiem and here it is!!! 💗💗 (it’s written with them in mind, but y’all can enjoy it too)

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: A fun night on the town offers the rare chance of falling for a handsome stranger...though to be fair, is he really even a stranger?

Warnings: Some kissing💀 and implied spice, nothing explicit.

Italian nightlife had never been something you had the chance to enjoy. The reason being that Passione had taken up so much of your time and each day was spent completely on work-related things. While some of your teammates, namely Formaggio and Melone made it a point to enjoy their weekends off the best they could, you did not. In fact, you seldom had the opportunity to join Napoli’s party-going masses, let alone step foot into a nightclub or bar.

So, naturally, when a wind of change had come to sweep you onto a different course, you were very much inclined to let it. Despite the inkling of trepidation growing in the pit of your stomach, you were also filled with excitement for the night that awaited you. You knew better than to squander this rare moment.

Tonight, you were out of town, miles across the Tyrrhenian sea, on the largest island south of the Italian peninsula—a place called Sicily known for its long history and traditions.

After a successfully completed mission, you choose to reward yourself, on the final night of your trip, by stepping out and enjoying whatever intrigues such a place had to offer. Who knew when you’d ever get the chance again?

A club called Bona Furtuna came highly recommended to you by a certain Sicilian native. It was a simple but newly renovated warehouse on the coast near Palermo. According to the locals, it was the place to be on a night like this.

Although a bit stuffy and filled with smoke swirling in the air like dry ice, bodies continued to fill up the dance floor, moving in tandem with the music. Girls in leotards and heels provided bottle service and cigars—all of which were somewhat of a shock to you. Initially, your carefully honed instincts kept you from enjoying yourself to the fullest, but by your third mojito, you felt yourself loosening up. Following a shot of tequila after that, you could feel the baseline thrumming against your teeth as the bright strobe lights bounced off your skin and hair.

Your hips whirled to the beat, a sheen of sweat on your neck and back. The dress you wore clung to you like second skin. It became easier for you to feed off the atmosphere; your body moved on impulse, responding to the silent cues that played off the swarm of people around you. It was spellbinding. However, the alcohol in your system did little to negate some of your more ingrained senses. The feeling of eyes trained on your back was something like an alarm in your conscience, but you were not in danger, far from it actually.

You kept dancing, swinging along with the beat, bating your silent observer. If he wanted to spectate, he could do just that. But it would be even more fun if he just cut loose and joined you on the dance floor.

In due time, the music shifted to something with a slower tempo; it was then that you felt a warm hand on your waist.

Body to body, you moved against him with practiced ease, rolling against his hips in a way that was titillating, slow, and steady as a river. He guided your movements in time with his own, like he knew your body better than you did. In a way, it didn’t surprise you. You could tell he was getting into it. Feeling impish, you skirted away from him with a spin, tossing a wink over your shoulder and strutting your way to the bar for a little reprieve.

“Water, please.” You called out to the bartender. “Light on the ice.”

Not a moment later, a glass of water was placed in front of you, but before you could reach for it, you caught sight of a mop of violet hair in your peripheral.

Your dance partner had joined you at the bar and with him came the familiar scent of Boucheron cologne and the perfect blend of citrus and spice. Finally able to see him in better light, you considered some of his most notable features. His beautiful aquiline nose; his red irises ringed in black sclera, which was unusual by nature. But held an equally intense and honest quality that made you smile a little. He was lovely to look at, dressed sharply in a crisp button up shirt with a few of them unfastened that gave a nice little peek at his chest.

He leaned against the bar, managing to tower over you still, though you remained undaunted. “Can I buy you a drink?” He asked.

“I’m okay with this.” was your simple but quick-witted reply, all the while, you eyed him sharply over the rim of your glass.

He looked amused, maybe even a little surprised by your quick denial, but not at all discouraged. That was a good sign, maybe he’d prove to be interesting company tonight. You couldn’t deny that he was attractive; the kind of sexy one didn’t have to try for. You decided introductions were in order so you offered him your name and hand, smiling when he took it and kissed it.

“My name is Risotto.” He said with a dimpled half-smile.

“A pleasure to meet you, Risotto.” And although he left you to do most of the talking, your conversation continued without a hitch. Eventually, when you asked what he was doing back in his hometown, Risotto revealed he was just here for business.

“What kind of business?”

He smirked. “Not the kind of thing I can share so easily with you.”

After that admission, you finally allowed him to buy you another drink before you both made your way back to the dance floor. You weren’t as coherent as you were prior. Inhibitions fell to the wayside and you swayed on your feet a bit, but thankfully Risotto held you firm, like an anchor in the sea of alcohol in your system.

You moved like an uncoiled rope, eyes alight with mischief, and a smile on your orange painted lips.

“Come now, Risotto.” You called over the music. “I’m sure you can dance better than that!”

“You’re really gonna keep up this act, cara?” He asked.

You looped an arm around his neck, and guided his hand onto your waist like before. In a golden moment of genuine amusement, Risotto laughed, showing off a row of perfect teeth.

“Yes, I am, even if you keep breaking character!” You carded your fingers through the hair at his nape, smiling as you leaned forward to peck his lips. “Now remember, we have never met!”

Risotto nodded, still smirking. You should’ve known he had something up his sleeve. He took one of your hands and twirled you around, then dipped you low enough that your cleavage was on display for half a second at most before he lifted you and pulled you close to his chest. It was minutes later that you noticed he was doing the tarantella, or a modernized version of this dance. It seemed the warm atmosphere brought out of the Sicilian boy that lived deep within the ever-stoic Risotto.

You and he danced all night until your feet were tender and he was left to carry your heels in one hand while holding you close with the other. His brawny arm was slung over your shoulder, and yours was looped around his waist for support.

“I love you,” you murmured into his armpit; it’s where you had managed to shove your head as he half-carried you back to your shared motel. When he didn’t immediately respond you chanced a peek at him. “Did you hear what I said?” You pouted a little, but all Risotto did was blink at you.

It was around two in the morning and the streets were empty save for the occasional civilian. Risotto pressed your back against the brick wall of a neighboring building. He guided one of your long legs around his waist just as you snaked both arms around his neck. The rough pad of his thumb brushed against your lips, the only warning you received before his mouth was on yours and kissing you deeply. The world and everything with it fell away in that single moment. One of your hands slipped down to fist his shirt. It was odd to feel him wearing one, especially with you being so accustomed to feeling his bare skin.

When he finally released you, Risotto murmured a quiet, “I love you too, always,” against the seam of your mouth before finally scooping you up and carrying you all the way home—where he could truly show you his love privately.

By morning, you were greeted with the heavy weight of an arm slung around your waist and warm breaths ghosting your neck. The sky was still blue, almost black but sounds of birds chirping was enough to confirm that it was indeed early. Groaning, you shifted in bed, feeling the muggy heat in the room and only the stifled breeze filtering in through an open window. Sicily was incredibly hot in the mornings; it was enough to make you sweat even as you slept.

Next to you Risotto’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and he was given a full view of your naked back. He pressed a feather light kiss to your bare shoulder before sitting up from the bed. It never took him long to fully wake up. When it came to vigor and strength, he was seemingly unmatched.

“We should head back in about an hour.” Risotto said, voice slightly hoarse, as he picked up his phone from where it was still charging near his suitcase. “We have a text from Prosciutto and several missed calls from Ghiaccio.” He raked a hand through his dyed hair as he spoke. You couldn’t help but notice that the purple color suited him nicely.

“Hm, that’s fine by me.” You yawned, dragging the sheets over your body, and tucking the excess under your arms.

Whatever meager strength you had was only enough to keep you barely coherent. You were tired from all the drinking and dancing, though you had fun, the morning after was one thing you could do without.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” You watched as your boyfriend scrolled through his phone, likely giving the squad a status update.

Risotto looked up from the device, lips parted and eyes wide like a scandalized old man.

“I meant the clubbing,” you corrected. “Did you enjoy our little game?”

He finally shrugged and gave a noncommittal hum; Capo Risotto was back in full effect, it seemed. You gazed at his bare chest, silently admiring the way his muscles flexed underneath his skin. You nearly missed his belated response.

“You were...a bit difficult in the beginning.”

“Oh? I didn’t notice.” You laughed.

Risotto watched as you milled about the hotel room, tossing random articles of clothes into your suitcase. You’d found a clean pair of panties and slipped them on quickly, while discarding the bedsheets in favor of an old t-shirt. When you came over to where he was standing, you held his leather coat in hand.

“I believe this belongs to you.”

He snorted lightly, before leaning in and capturing your lips in a soft kiss as thanks. Together you both dressed, forgoing breakfast so you wouldn't miss your ferry trip back to Naples.

As you gripped Risotto’s hand upon reentering the base, you leaned into him and bumped him tenderly with your hip. You toed off your shoes, suddenly greeted by the telltale sound of several arguing voices. And it was coming straight from the main room. You looked to Risotto with a heavy sigh.

“Will we ever get another night off?”

Risotto glanced down at you, understanding your pain. “We’ll try, tesoro.”

[dangeroussicilianhousewife]

I wrote a few days ago about Villa Niscemi, once home to Fulco Di Verdura, the Sicilian duke whose memoir so enchanted me. As an adult he moved to New York and became a jeweller. His dazzling artistic legacy has Sicily in every jewel.

First let’s look at this elephant:

He was inspired by the iconic landmark of Catania. The statue is made of the black rock from Etna that covers the beaches around eastern Sicily.

Now for some legacy. These are medieval Sicilian crowns:

Here are the crosses and other jewels that they inspired Fulco to design:

You can’t visit Sicily without falling in love with the beaches and their exciting shells. There are even some beaches in Sicily where amber washes up, and every one has golden sand and sparkling pebbles. Fulco recreated them in pure gold and precious gemstones.

His love of nature shows in all his work. In his memoir he described how happy he was playing out of doors in the plants and dirt. He was fascinated observing leaves and insects.

The pomegranate is still regarded as a symbol of fertility in Sicily. I was given pomegranates as gifts when I became engaged to Hubby. Fulco interpreted this traditional Sicilian symbol in rubies and diamonds:

Do you recognise this mosaic? It adorned the bedroom of King Roger, in the Palazzo dei Normanni in Palermo.

Fulco interpreted it in various forms of leopards.

Here’s a picture of this talented Sicilian.

Portrait of jewelry designer Fulco di Verdura. (Photo by Horst P. Horst/Conde Nast via Getty Images)

Here’s one more piece of work with a connection to Sicily that some people may not recognise at first. The snakes represent the hair of Medusa, that monster of ancient Greek mythology whose face was so ugly it could turn people to stone with one glance. This was a Greek myth, so why was it Sicilian?

Siracusa, on the south-east corner of Sicily, was a Greek colony so large and successful it overshadowed Athens itself. And it is filled with Medusa sculptures absolutely everywhere. Why were the so obsessed with her? She was used to ward of the evil eye, or envy. The idea was that if anyone was having evil thoughts about the city, Medusa’s ugly face would bounce them right back upon the evil-wisher. When you’re the richest city in the known world, such precautions are vital.

I think Fulco put a jewel in the centre, in place of her face, because of the legend of Perseus. He managed to kill Medusa and cut her head off, so the legend goes, by fighting her backwards and only looking at her by using his gleaming polished shield as a mirror.

Here’s a picture of one of the many, many depictions of Medusa from ancient Siracusa:

Now I shall leave you with a selection of Fulco’s finest.

Sicilian card games!

The perfect stocking filler.

Participate in a Sicilian tradition by buying a book of Sicilian card games on Amazon. 

Buy the bestselling pocket edition or the full colour large format edition with three bonus games. Also now available in the Italian language!

You can also buy packs of Sicilian playing cards on Amazon and many websites.

  Sicily in Jewels: The precious legacy of Duke Fulco Di Verdura I wrote a few days ago about Villa Niscemi, once home to Fulco Di Verdura, the Sicilian duke whose memoir so enchanted me.