#and keep your filthy criminals to yourselves

[seleneprince]

We want innocents back.

They want terrorists back.

It's not the fucking same!

[crystallinestars]

To Steal a Detective's Heart

Thief!reader x Heizou oneshot I've been thinking about since April. Wanted to post this for his birthday, but I didn't have enough time to complete it, so here is a super belated birthday present to best detective Heizou.

Reader is female.

You had a rough upbringing. When you were a teenager your father vanished without a trace, leaving his enormous debt for you and your mother to pay off. Your mother had to give up all your valuables and the house to pay them off, leaving you and her to live in the filthy, gloomy streets of the slums. Growing up in the slums without a safe roof over your head or food to eat, you couldn’t help but grow resentful of the rich nobles who didn’t have to go cold and hungry like you did. While they ate delicious steaks, sweet fruits, and buttery pastries, your mother had to work hard to be able to afford a simple loaf of stale bread.  

When your mother fell ill and couldn’t work, getting food and shelter proved nearly impossible. To survive, you turned to theft. Nobody would offer you a job since you were a frail street rat living on the slums, so you resulted to stealing what you needed. It was scary at first, and you got caught several times and faced harsh punishments, but you couldn’t give up. The little bit of food you managed to steal from vendors and coin pouches from unsuspecting passersby helped you and your mother to fill your stomachs and buy some new clothes to better protect yourselves from the cold nights.

Over the course of a few years, you perfected your criminal craft and were soon able to sneak into the abodes of the rich merchants and nobles you so despised. After stealing a few of their valuable jewelry and gold-encrusted cups and cutlery, you’d successfully sneak back out in the cover of the night and distribute your haul amongst the other poor families and street urchins since you understood their struggles better than anyone. The poor folk adored you for these gifts, and their happy smiles and fuller stomachs encouraged you to keep at it. You stole more and more valuables from the wealthy and distributed them among the poor, selling whatever was left and bringing the money to your mother in hopes of alleviating her burden of having to support the two of you alone. With the money, you were able to buy a small cottage for the two of you to live in, as well as expensive medicine to cure her illness. When she asked where you got the money from, you lied and said you got a job to prevent her from worrying, though the lie always weighed heavily on your conscience.

Your success earned you a reputation as a scandalous thief among the wealthy. An elusive mongrel who targeted only the rich, but no matter how the nobles strengthened their security with guards and multitude of locks, you were always able to successfully infiltrate and steal from them.

Hearing wind of a nationally renowned detective with a 100% success rate in cracking cases and catching criminals, the town leaders bent over backwards to get him to come and rid the town of this pesky thief. That was how the famous detective Shikanoin Heizou found himself surrounded by indignant nobles that begged him to catch you and be rewarded handsomely if he were successful. He accepted their request because Heizou has been determined since a young age to nip crime in the bud. He lost his dearest friend to hit-and-run, and he’d be damned if he let criminals run amok and ruin people’s lives for their selfish gains, swearing to himself to not let anything like that happen to anyone else.

However, your case was a peculiar one. The more he studied the clues, the more curious he grew regarding you. You only stole from the wealthy and never harmed anyone, and even then you only stole some money and expensive pieces of décor that served no sentimental purpose to their owners. Regardless, it didn’t change the fact that you stole valuable goods and were a criminal that deserved to face justice for her crimes. Heizou was able to deduce who your next target would be, and as night fell, he laid in ambush for you to make your appearance.

You didn’t notice anything amiss when you infiltrated the merchant’s house, sneaking your way into the treasury as usual. However, as you were quietly pocketing several pieces of expensive cutlery into your satchel, a voice sounded from behind you. Startled, you whip around to see an attractive man emerge from the shadows. He looked young, with messy maroon hair pulled back into a low ponytail and piercing green eyes.

A silence hung in the air as the two of you looked at each other for several heartbeats, frozen in place like statues. While Heizou usually wouldn’t hesitate to utter a razor-sharp quip about catching a criminal in the act, this time he was caught off guard by how pretty you were. Even though the upper half of your face was obscured by a hood, there was something attractive about your visage. He could see the surprise in your eyes, your lips parted in silent shock as you stood still, terrified that you were caught.

Shaking off his momentary surprise, Heizou was about to say something witty with a charming smirk, prepared to handcuff you and take you to the station, however you reacted faster than him and were already slipping out the window before he could even utter a word. Luckily it was the first floor, so you jumped out and gripped your satchel tight as you sprinted through the courtyard towards the cover of the streets, abandoning the rest of your loot. Heizou rushed after you, not wanting to let you escape. He was hot on your heels, but you were able to lose him among the winding streets since you were far more familiar with the layout of the town than he was, and he soon lost sight of you completely.

That night, both Heizou and you realized that you met your match. Heizou had never met a criminal that could escape him so easily, though he was loathe to admit that the only reason you got away was because he was too captivated by your looks to react immediately. Meanwhile, you were terrified that someone finally managed to come close to capturing you. If you weren’t as quick as you were, you would have been caught that night.

With Heizou’s arrival in town, your easy victories came to a grinding halt. From then on, you and Heizou had more and more close calls. He grew more proficient in reading your patterns and line of thinking, while you grew more creative in your infiltration and escape attempts.

On one particularly close call, Heizou managed to corner you against a wall after calling for the guards, fully intent on handcuffing you and taking you to the police station, but you thought quickly and tried to engage him in a conversation while you attempted to buy some time in figuring out how to give him the slip.

“Did the snobby aristocrats bribe you with a hefty sum to try and catch me? Are you that desperate to lick their boots that you’d go through all this trouble just to capture me?” you taunted the detective to try and rile him up. Heizou flashed you a charming smirk, understanding what you were trying to do.

“I didn’t become a detective to earn big money. As a matter of fact, I’d catch criminals and put them behind bars regardless of whether I got paid or not. My goal is to prevent crime before it even happens. I want criminals like you to think twice before committing dastardly acts by knowing that I, detective Shikanoin Heizou, will undoubtedly catch every last one of you and bring you to justice,” Heizou replied in a confident yet laidback manner as he nimbly spun the cuffs around his finger, catching them with a metallic clink in preparation to use them on you.

You blinked, not expecting to hear such a noble reason, and your hostility towards him waned slightly.

“Why? Do you want to feel like a hero that badly?” confused, you couldn’t help but ask, momentarily forgetting about your goal of thinking of a way out of your current situation.

Heizou’s expression turned serious, a note of melancholy shined in his green eyes.

“No. It’s not about playing hero. It’s about preventing criminals like you from harming innocent people,” his voice carried a note of resoluteness, and you could tell he was speaking from past experience. “I don’t know what your reasons are for stealing from all these nobles, but your thievery ends today. I won’t let you cause harm to anyone else.”

Heizou’s accusation irked you and you couldn’t help but snap at him.

“I’m not harming anyone! If anything, these stuck-up nobles don’t even need all this wealth, and the poor people in the slums are able to use-“ you abruptly slap a hand over your mouth as dread settled in your belly. You couldn’t believe you let your annoyance get the better of you, causing you to blab some private information to the very detective that has been chasing your tail for weeks, giving him clues to finding you outside of your identity as the town’s thief.

Heizou realized your slip up too and paused. It clicked in his mind that the reason you were doing this was because you wanted to share the stolen goods with the starving people of the slums to help them survive in the unjust world. There was also a good chance you came from the slums yourself, or at the very least were exposed to the horrible life that living on the streets entailed.

Swallowing thickly, you stayed silent, internally panicking that you had messed up in a big way.

Heizou stayed where he was, a pensive expression on his handsome face as he mulled over your words. You were doing what you did out of your own sense of justice, he realized. You wanted to help the less fortunate, just as he wanted to help those affected by unjust acts of crime. Both reasons had their validity, even if one is rooted in crime. He couldn’t deny that you had never harmed anyone physically, and you only targeted those that could stand to lose a few valuables and still be financially sound. And even then, they were never things that would be considered sentimental like engagement rings or items that were clearly used often by their owner. You took things that could be easily replaced, such as a few satchels of gold coins, fancy knickknacks that served no other purpose than to be displayed for decoration, and fancy fabrics.

Heizou’s brain was in disarray as his mind battled with his heart over whether to see you as a plain criminal or someone with a just cause like him. At that moment, there were the sounds of footsteps rushing towards the room you were in. The guards and police were coming. Your breath hitched as you felt the impending doom of your capture. Making a last-ditch effort, you grabbed a nearby book and threw it at Heizou to distract him, before making a break for the window.

Heizou easily caught the book and turned his head to watch you crawl through the window. He still had plenty of time to stride over and catch you—you both knew it. Yet for some reason, he didn’t. Instead, he simply watched you slip out the window.

You glanced back at him with furrowed brows, confused why he hadn’t made any attempts to stop you yet. But Heizou was just as confused as you were, and by the time his mind spurred him on to do the right thing and reach a hand towards you, it was too late. You had successfully escaped with another small haul stored away in your satchel.

When the guards arrived, they found Heizou standing and staring out an open window. When questioned about what happened, the detective gave a sheepish smile and said you gave him the slip again, but that he was extremely close to catching you this time.

From then on, Heizou tried to corner you more often to get more of these conversations with you. He amped up his charm and wit, even cracking a few jokes that made you laugh despite your better judgement and made you open up to him. During the day, he would venture out into the slums and question the people there about the mysterious lady thief. Most refused to disclose any information, but a few kids let slip that a girl by the name of y/n would help their families by giving them expensive looking trinkets, before being hastily pulled away by their mothers. That’s how Heizou learned your real name—a beautiful name for a beautiful thief that stole his heart.

It was a strange relationship for the both of you. You were both each other’s greatest enemy, yet neither could honestly say they thought badly of the other. There was an undeniable respect between you, and also a hint of something romantic. You weren’t oblivious to how Heizou would word his sentences in slightly flirtatious and sometimes even suggestive ways, while Heizou wasn’t blind to your coy smiles, flushed cheeks, and fluttering lashes.

You were both aware there were romantic feelings involved and that they were reciprocated by the other. However, Heizou was starting to get pressure from the police and the town’s nobles for taking too long to capture you despite being regarded as a genius detective, meanwhile you were still reluctant to give up your thieving ways since other professions available to you wouldn’t earn you the money you desperately needed. Caught at a crossroads, each of you had to decide whether to give up your goals for the sake of your love, or to pursue them and lose this budding connection you had.

What choice will you make?

[awkwardblondiee]

A Safe Place to Land

- joel miller x f!reader

-*Warnings*: explicit content 18+!! Tiny bit of angst in the backstory/flashbacks, Age gap, fingering, squirting, shy, inexperienced reader, Joel talking you through it ;)

A/N: My first time writing a fic like this. Plot? What plot?  Filthy, self indulging smut.  Part 2????

“Come on.  Not too much further until the safe house.” Joel gruffly muttered to you and Ellie.  You’re not sure how long the three of you had been walking for, it seemed like days.  After Ellie had twisted her ankle after running from a clicker, you all voted to find a place to lay low for a bit.  She needed to heal and you were not against taking a break from your mission for a few days.  Luckily, Joel knew a safe house not to far from where you were located.  While you walked, you let your mind wander

It was pure coincidence that you had ended up with this unlikely pair.  At the Boston QZ you were a bit of a loner, although you liked it that way.  You had grown up in the QZ, only being 6 when the world went to shit.  Your family; your parents, older sister and you all having to fight your way to find a life in the new, cruel world.  At first life in the QZ was good.  Your parents made a new home for you and tried to keep any semblance of your old life alive for you and your sister.  You were ten when you experienced your first loss.  Your father, recruited into being a FEDRA guard, was killed during a riot in the QZ.  Some punk kids looking for a fight they had said.  There was no funeral, no time to mourn.  This was the new normal.  

After your father’s death, your mother began to spiral.  She began trading all kinds of things for pills and liquor.  Anything she could get her hands on to numb the pain, the grief, the darkness of this new world.  You didn’t want to think of what she did to get some of those things.  You were 15 when you came home to find your mother in her bed, overdosed on pills.  Again, no time to mourn.  Your sister the only person in the world you could rely on.  The only person you could trust.  The only person who truly understood what you felt.    

After the death of your parents you and your sister had to provide for yourselves.  You took it upon yourselves to care for the community garden.  It became your solace.  You stuck to yourself.  Your sister the only person you could confide in.  Sure there were people around town you could talk to, but none you could trust, not in this world.  

When you were 24, your sister started talking about revolution and joining a group called the “fireflies”.  “Don’t you dream of a life outside of these walls?  A place where we are actually living and not just surviving?  I know that there is a place like that”  You had wanted that, but being the shy girl you were, you continued your every day routine much to the dismay of your older sister.  Months later after you were sure your sister had given up on this idea of revolution, residents were called to the city center.  It was not unusual for FEDRA to implement new laws, and that’s what you had foolishly thought they had brought the residents there for.  As you blended into the crowd of residents, FEDRA announced that they had caught several people trying to escape the QZ.  This was not an unusual occurrence in the QZ, they wanted to make an example of these rebels.  As they paraded the criminals up to the hanging block your heart stopped.  Standing with a group of four other people was your sister.  Her head held high.  As they began to bag their heads, you started to scream, tears running down your face.  You started running through the crowd, a last ditch attempt to save the only person you had left in the world.  

You didn’t get far.  A strong, rough pair of hands coming out to stop you from going any further.  You had recognized Joel, seen him around town.  Like you, he kept to himself.  He was a smuggler your sister had told you one day.  He was rough around the edges but you couldn’t help but stare when he was around.  He held you as you fell to the ground, tears falling uncontrollably as they executed your sister.  “It’s ok, shhhh shhhh.” You remember him trying to comfort you whispering sweet things in your ear.  “Don’t look sweet girl, don’t look.” 

You had decided that after the killing of your sister you would avenge her by carrying out her plan of escaping the QZ for good.  To find this safe haven.  Your plan was to find the fireflies.  There were rumors of a settlement, freedom from the dark life in the QZ.  You spent the two years after her death to make a plan to escape.  You gathered as much intel you could.   As fate would have it, that same night you were escaping through the smugglers tunnel, you run into Joel Miller and a strange little girl, no older than 15.  

“You either come with us or get out of the way girl”.

“Where are you going?  And who is this?” as you pointed to the girl.

“Don’t worry about her, you coming or not?”

That was a few months ago.  During your travels together they both began to open up to you more, especially Ellie.  She told you all about her life and about her “gift” as you called it.  Joel mainly listening to the side, but always keeping a watchful eye on you.  It was intense, you had never experienced anyone like him before.  Granted, you have never spent so much time with an older man like him, fantasized about an older man like him.  You often thought about that time in the QZ square where he had held you.  How his hands felt, how he whispered soothing words into your ear.  You wanted to see that soft side of him again.  Your mind wondered easily and you thought of how his hands would feel on other parts of your body..... At night you dreamed of him often.  Him broad form over you holding you softly, your hands in his greying but soft hair.  You usually woke with a heat in your lower belly feeling frustrated.  What you didn’t know was that Joel was having the same dreams about you.  He knew it was wrong to want someone who was so young and inexperienced.  He was sure you had never experienced any of the pleasures the world had to offer as you had grown up with it in ruins.   

Your thoughts came back to you as you helped Ellie hobble along the trail, a large cabin came into view.

“Oh shit Joel! You didn’t tell us we were camping out in a mansion!”  The girl exclaimed into the cool spring air. You heard Joel snort and he turned around to the two of you.  “Bill and Frank marked it on the map for me a long time ago.  Never had a reason to go here until now.”  As you walked up to the large cabin, Joel held his hand out for the two of you to stop in your tracks.  He put his finger in front of his lips as if to signal us to be quiet.  “Both of you stay quiet while I make sure the house is safe.”  The two of you held eye contact until you nodded.  Ellie went to open her mouth but Joel shot her a hard look and she backed down, not without rolling her eyes at him.  

After several minutes, Joel came out to tell you the coast was clear.  Free from clickers and humans alike.  As you walked into the house you took inventory of the space.  Much of the house was covered in overgrown plants and had certainly been affected by the elements over the years.  There was a large set of stairs that you assumed led to several bedrooms.  In the main area was a large living room with high ceilings and an intact fire place as the focal point at the front of the room.  You couldn’t wait to curl up next to it and sleep.  As you walked around the wide room, you noticed a big curtain in front of a door.  As you pulled it open you were in awe.  The cabin was set on a cliff and outside the windows you could see miles of land.  

“Woah, you didn’t tell me we were staying at a five star hotel Joel.” you joked.  He came and stood next to you and brushed your arm with his.  Your heart beating faster.  “We got hot water too.” he faced you a raised an eyebrow smirking.  You gave him a shy smile back.

“Did I hear you say hot water?” Ellie said as she popped her head out from the other room.  You stifled a giggle while Joel rolled his eyes.

“I did and you better go first, you stink.”

“umm have you two smelled yourselves recently?” pinching her nose and waving a hand in front of her face as she walked to the bathroom.  This time you laughed out loud and you swore you saw Joel crack a rare smile.

The hot shower you had all taken was a luxury you were very unfamiliar with.  Even at your tiny apartment back at the QZ you had to take cold showers.  You swear you scrubbed every inch of your body just to do it three times over.  You can’t remember the last time you had taken a proper shower.  The weather was getting warmer as you could sense the seasons changing.  You changed into your sleep shorts and a tank top.  You went to lay out your bedroll by the fire place when you realized two mattresses had been moved right in front of it.  

“Uhh Ellie took the big bedroom”  Joel stated front behind you.  You looked up at him and he was rubbing his neck anxiously.  “She said something about her deserving it since she’s the ‘chosen one’”. You rolled your eyes but smiled at her comment.  “That’s ok, I wanted to sleep in front of the fireplace anyway.  I usually get cold in the evenings.”  He gave you a nod and walked over to what was presumably his mattress.  

“Most of the other bedrooms are too overgrown to sleep in, so I brought two mattresses out here.  I hope you don’t mind if I sleep out here.  Might make it easier if we have to take watch.”  Your heart started racing and your hands got sweaty.  Sure, you had slept by Joel many times while on the road but usually Ellie was there to keep you from getting too close. The thought of being anywhere close to Joel made you swoon. 

After you checked on Ellie and you saw Joel doing a perimeter check for the hundredth time that evening, you went to the back patio to admire the beautiful view.  There was still patio furniture, likely from whoever lived here twenty years ago.  You sat down on one of the lounge chairs and took in a deep breath.  This was the first time in god knows how long you were given a rest.  Although it was dark out, the valleys and mountains were illuminated by the moon and stars.  You’re not sure you had ever seen the night sky so clearly.  You hummed in contentment.  

“The place seems secure” says a low voice from behind you, making you jump.

Joel chuckles “Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

sweetheart

You gave him a small smile as he sat in the chair next to you.  You’re not sure what it is about him but he always makes you so anxious when you are alone.  His presence is so dominating, it makes you feel that burning heat in your belly again. 

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes until you break the quiet.

“It’s so beautiful here, I don’t think I want to leave.”  He nods in silent agreement.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so....so... free, so safe.”  you said barely above a whisper.  “I feel like I’ve always been confined....and in that confinement never feeling safe, never feeling home.  

Joel looked at you with sad eyes.  “I will do everything in my power to keep the both of you safe....to keep you safe.”  You locked eyes for what seemed like a lifetime before you looked away, though you could feel his eyes still on you.  Soon enough you were feeling the cool evening breeze adding to Joel’s unwavering stare.  You felt your nipples poke through the think tank top you had on.  You shivered and pulled your knees up to your chest.  Joel seemed to notice you shifting around.

“You cold sweetheart?”

“Umm yeah just a little bit” you said as you shivered slightly. 

Suddenly he stood, closing the space between you with a few steps.  You looked up at him with doe eyes. “Here, scoot up a bit sweetheart”.  You gave him a confused look.  “I’ll sit behind you and keep you warm, is that ok?”.  Immediately you shook your head to give him permission.  He chuckled at your eagerness.  

You moved up the lounge chair while he got behind you to sit.  As he settled, he grabbed your waist to pull you back to him.  He opted to rest his hands on your stomach and began rubbing circles into the sliver of skin that poked out from your tank top. Your heart started to race and you were sure he could hear it.  

“Comfortable sweet girl?”  

“Mhm”. 

You may have never been with anyone before but you certainly know what being aroused felt like.  Though this was more intense than you had ever felt, your body was on fire.  You wanted Joel in every way possible.  You wanted him to show you the good things in life.  You wanted him to show you pleasure.  You rubbed your legs together to try and release some of the tension.  You knew you were soaked.  You tried to back up into Joel’s lap more and that’s when you felt it.  He was hard for you, and he knew you had felt him after you breathed in a shaky breath. 

“You know you are so beautiful sweet girl.  Even when I saw you in the QZ I could never take my eyes away from you.  I wish I could have saved you from all the darkness, protected you more”  He sounded remorseful for something that he could have never stopped.  You felt your eyes fill with tears but you blinked them away as fast as they came.  You turned your head to him and looked in his eyes, they were dark with what you can only describe as lust, possession.  His mouth came up to yours slowly and he brushed his lips with yours.  You had never kissed someone so you were happy to have him lead.  He was happy to teach you.  His lips tasted like the instant coffee he had mad not an hour before.  His patchy beard rubbing against your face in the best way.  You made a point to run your hands across the greying hairs, showing him that you loved it. 

He began to deepen the kiss more, licking your lips as if asking for entry.  You slowly opened your mouth to him and let his tongue explore.  You moaned quietly and felt him grow harder against your back.  You brought one of your hands around his head and held onto his freshly cleaned hair.  He pulled back from your mouth and lowered his head to your neck, pressing his mouth to your skin and leaving beautiful purple marks on you.

“Is this ok sweetheart?” Joel asked out of breath, genuinely concerned about your comfort level.  He wanted to teach you all about pleasure but didn’t want to push you.  You only hummed and nodded quickly in approval.  You held onto the collar of his shirt while you let him explore.  You never wanted to let him go.  You felt like you were going to burst.  

You pulled back slightly out of breath while he held your forehead to his.

“I should have been doing this sooner.”  He said against your lips.  It made you giggle as you kissed him again.  

“Turn around again for me sweetheart.”  You did so without protest, waiting anxiously for what he was going to do next.  

“Here, lay back on me all the way.  Get comfortable ok?”

You laid back against his broad chest so that his mouth was right by your ear.  Your legs crossed on the chair.  You signed contently as you felt him wrap his arms around you.  He started rubbing his hands up and down any skin he could get too.  

“I need you to tell me if it’s too much, ok?  Let me hear your words sweet girl.”

“O-Ok” you sighed.  

After hearing your consent, he began moving his hands up towards your top.

“You’re killing me with this little shirt sweetheart.”  he said as he began to pull the top of the flimsy shirt down over your breasts, now exposed to the cool, crisp air.  When he saw your breasts pop out of your shirt he groan loudly and pushed his hard erection into your back to get some much needed relief.  

  Your breathing began to quicken as he explored you.  He started with your left breast, lightly squeezing it and groaning in your ear at the contact.  He then moved his attention, running his finger around the areola, teasing you and making your nipples pert.  When your nipple was nice and hard, he pinched it lightly and your squeaked out into the air.  

“You want me to keep going.”

“Yes, please Joel.  Don’t stop touching me.”

“I don’t think I can sweet girl.”

With that, he then grabbed both of your breasts in his large hands,  kneading the soft flesh in his hands, occasionally flicking and pulling on your sensitive nipples.  He kissed the side of your neck, your ears, your checks.  Your moans became more frequent the more comfortable you got.  You never wanted him to stop.  If it felt this good, how good would everything else feel?

Suddenly he pulled away from your breasts and you let out a whine of disappointment.  

“I know, I know baby.  Do you want to keep going?”

“Please, I need you to keep touching me.”  you said out of breath, rubbing your legs together.  You wear sure you were soaking through your sleeping shorts at this point.  

“I need you to relax then baby, don’t tense up ok?”

You bit your lip and nodded.  Then you remembered to use your words.  “Yes Joel, I need you please. I-I’m so wet for you.” you said shyly.  He let out a long moan into your ear at your words.  

He began inching his finger tips down to the waist of your sleep shorts.  “Help me out here baby” he whispered in your ear.  You lifted your hips and he started to slide your shorts down your legs.  When they were off, he flung them behind him towards the cabin.  At this point you were nearly bare while he sat behind you fully clothed.  The view was hotter than any dream you have had.   Your wet pussy out while your breasts heaved from anticipation of what he may do next. 

“No underwear sweet girl?  Were you preparing for something hmm?”.  He teased you.

“Mhhm, I always wanted you Joel.  Now please touch me, please”.

Without warning he snaked his hand down to your glistening cunt.  At first he played with your wet folds to get you used to his touch.  Then, when he thought you were ready he started to circle your sensitive clit slowly.  You let out a loud moan at the new contact and he pulled away to cover your mouth. 

“Shhh sweet girl, you have to be quiet.  Your sweet moans are only for me.  Can I keep going baby?  Can I make you cum?”.  You grabbed his wrist and nodded.  “Good girl”.

He uncovered your mouth and moved his fingers down again.  His other hand grabbing and playing with your breasts.  He began to circle your clit again at a constant pace, your wetness making it easy to glide over the little bud.  You moaned lowly at the immense pleasure you were feeling.  The more he rubbed over your clit, the wetter you became.  

“Fuck” Joel growled your ear.  “You get so wet for me, I could just slide right in your pretty little pussy baby.”  You had to keep from crying out at his words so you turned your head and muffled them into his shoulder while he kissed the crown of your head tenderly.

“Are you ready for more baby?  You’re so wet I can just slide a finger in this tight little pussy.”.  You squirmed and whined, waiting for him to do anything until you felt his fingertip glide through your wetness and down to your tight virgin hole.  Slowly he started to press in.  The feeling was so foreign to you, you had to hold your breath until he filled you to his knuckle.  

He chuckled at your reaction.  “Breathe baby, just breath.  You’re doing so good for me, so good.”  He circled your clit with his other hand while he let you get used to the feeling of his finger inside of you.  

You let out some deep breathes and turned your head to kiss him deeply.  You pulled away and turned to look down at where his fingers were.  “I’m ready Joel, make me feel good.”.

“I got you baby.”  And with that, Joel began to move his finger in and out of you, slowly at first.  When he felt your body relax he began to speed up his finger that was pumping in and out of your soaked cunt.  

“Oh god Joel.”. You whined.  “It-it feels so good, oh fuck.”.

“You ready for another finger sweetheart?  You’re taking me so good.”.  You nodded and felt him pull his one finger out only to push back in with two of his think fingers.  You looked down your body to where his fingers were moving in and out of your tight hole.  You could hear the squelching sound of your wetness and saw it dripping down his fingers.  The sight was so erotic you couldn’t help but begin to moan loudly again.  Joel felt you tighten around his fingers and he knew you were close to cumming.  

“God dammit, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight.”.  He sucked on the side of your neck, surely leaving more bruises in his wake.  

“oh-oh fuck Joel, I wanna come so bad, please, please make me cum.”.  You were on the verge of crying, you could taste your orgasm, feel it building and building inside of you but you needed more.

“More, more, I need more!”  Joel could never deny you so he added a third finger to your soaked cunt, moving them in and out of your hole at a constant pace.  Joel looked down to where he was fingering you and groaned.  “God baby you’re creaming all over my fingers, think you can squirt for me like this?” 

You nodded, not wanting to deny him what he wants.  You continued to watch his fingers pistoning in and out, in and out.  His fingers had your white cream all over them, your cum making it easier for him to reach your g-spot.  

“C’mon sweet girl, cum for me.  Squirt all over my fingers, you can do it my good girl.”  He used his free hand to press on your lower stomach and you felt a sensation you had never felt before.  Sure you had made yourself cum, but this was a more intense feeling.  You were afraid you were going to pee in Joel’s hand!  Sensing your hesitation, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.  His eyes giving away his arousal.  His fingers never let up as he growled “You will cum on my fingers sweet girl, don’t hold back.  Let go for me.”  

It was like his words broke the damn you were holding in.  Your climax more intense then you have ever had.  You began to scream out of pure pleasure and Joel had to cover your mouth with his free hand while you looked down at yourself with wide eyes. Joel was still pushing his fingers in and out of you but now, you had a constant stream of squirt trying to push his fingers out.  Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head and you were whining beneath Joel’s hand.  

“Oh fuck baby, keep going for me.  Doing so good.”.  Joel ripped his fingers out of your pulsating hole and you whined, feeling empty.  He started rubbing your clit fast with his hand, trying to prolong your orgasm.  More squirt erupted from you and onto the patio floor as he brought his hand down to slap your clit, once, twice, three times before he let up.  Your hips still trying to chase his hand while you spasmed, trying to come down from your intense high.  Squirt still trickling down your creamy pussy hole.  

“Oh my god Joel”  

“I know sweet girl you did so good for me.  You look so beautiful when you come for me.”  He pulls your face towards him and kissed you passionately, moaning when you bite his lip.  

“Can we do it again?” you asked with a shy smile.

He pulls you back against him, “of course, anything for you my sweet girl.”  

Part 2????  

[sleepingcrisis]

*Ahem*

AU where Kojiro, Ainosuke, and Tadashi are con artists who are trying to Con famous calligrapher Kaoru Sakurayashiki out of his fortune.

They underestimate his witt and soon the calligrapher has all three of them under his thumb.

Bonus:

Kaoru doesn't really want them around but they won't leave until they have conned him (at least that is the excuse they come up with (and by they I mean Kojiro and Ainosuke)). Anyway he puts them to work watching over children that he is the godfather to.

***************************************************

"Read the fine print sweetie," Kaoru hummed as he set his brush down since the three storming in had caused a mistake in his brushwork. Damn idiots.

"What?" Ainosuke snatches the paper from Kojiro and Kaoru stared up at the three with boring golden eyes. His chin in the palm of his hand as he takes in their presence. Kojiro is a brute to put it simply, but Tadashi and Ainosuke are much more put together. Perhaps he can make this work after all.

"So now that you three have effectively signed your lives away to me unless you can come up with the money, I suppose you three can leave me alone now instead of playing this game? I can put you to work but I don't need three filthy criminals working for me—"

"Criminals?" Kojiro cut him off with a glare.

"Yes. Criminals," Kaoru sighed softly. "Carla?"

The small hologram projects over his table as he begins to put away his supplies. He wasn't in the mindset to practice his art anymore.

"Nanjo Kojiro: failed business owner. Criminal record including; theft, tax evasion, assault.

"Shindo Ainosuke: Former politician. Criminal record including; theft, tax evasion, assault, money laundering, traffic violations, DUI, Fraud.

"Kikuchi Tadashi: assistant to Shindo Ainosuke. Criminal record; possession of a weapon, associated with other crimes but never convicted." Her voice robotically supplied.

"Do you three think I don't do research on who I let into this building? Your phoney names gave you away for too easily and I honestly thought I would have more of a challenge with trying to find your actual identities but that didn't take very long either," Kaoru explained as he got up from where he was sitting and carefully adjusted his dark gray yukata. "So you three try and get me to sign over my fortune just like that? I expected more out of you three," he rounds his table and pulls out his fan from his sash and carefully tilts Tadashi’s head over. The green eyed man was always looking at the ground.

"Especially you, thought you were smarter since the brains has to come from one of you," Kaoru hummed. He countinued to walk past them. Tapping Kojiro and Ainosuke on the cheek with his fan not too gently.

"So what do you want us to do?" Kojiro asked.

"I just said I want you three gone? No need to work for me—"

"No. We will stay and work," Ainosuke agreed and stifled his grin into a polite smile. Kaoru’s eyes narrowed before he realized what they were up to.

"Ah. You still wish to steal from me? Okay fine. You three may work for me, but if you don't con me from my wealth by the time you have worked off the money you owe then I want all three of you gone and if you arent then I will make you three disappear got it?" Kaoru asked with a polite smile.

"Understood," Kojiro and Ainosuke replied.

"Understood," Tadashi agreed in a much softer voice.

"Wonderful," Kaoru hummed.

•••••

"What are we doing here?" Kojiro asked. They were at a school to be precise. An elementary school.

"Babysitting," Kaoru informed. "I godfather three children and if any of you touch a hair on their heads I will kill you," Kaoru’s voice deepened slightly.

"Why do we have to be here?" Ainosuke clarified Kojiro’s earlier question.

"Because you dimwitted fools insist on following me around."

"I meant at the school," Ainosuke clarified.

"Because they wanted to be picked up today," was all the explanation the three men recieved before Kaoru took a step forward when two boys came shooting out of the building with a third trailing behind and demanding that they slow down.

They make an effort to bulldoze Kaoru down by hugging him and Kaoru simply holds them close and leaves space for the third.

"Kaoru! Kaoru! Kaoru! Can we get ice cream today? Pleeeease!" The red haired one whined and clutched onto the fabric of Kaoru’s yukata as the third boy finally joins them in their puppy-dog-eyed begging.

"I suppose that would be okay," Kaoru said and gently ruffled the red haired boys hair.

"Mutts, introduce yourselves," Kaoru said and turned to the three older men with a very serious expression. They weren't sure if they should be using false names or not, but they supposed Kaoru would have mentioned a preference if he had one. Besides if they swapped between the two it was only a matter of time before a fuck up occurred.

"Nanjo Kojiro," the green haired male grumbled and nodded in their direction.

"Oh uh, Tadashi," the black haired male gave a friendly smile.

Ainosuke rolled his eyes before he kneeled down to he eye level with them and extended a hand. "Shindo Ainosuke, but if that is a mouthful then just Adam is fine," he said with a smile.

Kaoru smiled slightly when the three boys eagerly went to shake Adam’s hand. "Take notes," Kaoru mentioned and it was clearly directed at Tadashi and Kojiro. "You three, don't be rude," he tacked on.

"I'm Reki! This is Langa and Miya!" The red haired boy performed introductions for them and pointed to the blue haired boy and then the black haired boy.

Well Kojiro certainly couldn't let himself be one upped by Ainosuke of all people.

"Well aren't you three cute—"

"I am not cute you asshole—"

Miya's cussing was cut off with a smack to the back of his head with Kaoru’s fan. "Should I tell your mother about your mouth?" He asked and watched Miya's face quickly morph to some sort of fear before he spouted out apologies. "No harm done, he is a gorilla after all. Let's just get going," Kaoru said and ended up having to hold Miya and Langa's hands as Reki skipped ahead.

"So we are actually doing this," Kojiro muttered.

"I'm not sure what you two expected from this," Tadashi muttered and began to follow along. Keeping his distance as they were instructed to even if Kojiro and Ainosuke never listened to instructions.

They ended up getting ice-cream. Well the kids did and Kaoru got a smoothie. After that was the park where it was found out that Kaoru couldn't really play tag in traditional attire and instead made the other three pick up the slack for it. Turns out Tadashi wasn't a very fast runner and Kojiro was a lot better with kids then initially suspected.

"Damn con artists," Kaoru muttered from his spot on the bench.

They spent the day running around, well everyone but Kaoru ran around, until eventually the sun was going down and Miya was curled up in Kaoru’s lap.

"Okay let's head home," Kaoru eventually decided and lifted Miya up as he got up.

"I want to be carried, my legs are tired and I'm hungry and I think I'll starve!" Langa whined dramatically.

"Oh you are fine, besides I can't carry both of you at the same time," Kaoru mentioned. "And your mothers have food at home."

Either way Langa looked to the next most reasonable option before whispering to Reki briefly and soon they were both trying to get onto Kojiro’s back who huffed and stumbled forward.

"Hey you-"

"Nanjo, watch yourself," Kaoru mentioned as he walked.

Kojiro rolled his eyes and gently adjusted the kids and soon had both of them hanging onto his back with his arms holding their legs. It was uncomfortable as hell but they seemed happy.

Kaoru insisted on walking each of them all the way home so it took awhile but eventually they had every kid dropped off.

"Well two out of three of you did well today," Kaoru mentioned.

"Oh such high praise, and which one of us blundered," Ainosuke asked sarcastically.

Kaoru pivoted to turn around and began to head towards the three before he grabbed Tadashi by his jacket and tugged him forward. He reached into his jacket and pressed a hand against his chest before searching around and pulling a small hand gun out. Tadashi seemed relatively unfazed the entire time even as the other two watched. "Kikuchi? If you ever bring a weapon around my family ever again I'll make sure that it is the last time you ever have the honour of being around them," Kaoru whispered dangerously low before he put the gun back and adjusted Tadashi’s jacket to fix him back up into his pristine condition.

"When did you notice?" Kojiro asked. The tone of his voice gave way that he supposedly was unaware of this.

"At the park. You can't do that much running around and expect me not to notice. Miya pointed it out though," Kaoru explained and turned to countinue walking.

"You three are my dogs, bound to me until you can prove to be intellectually superior or work off your debt. Now you do as your master commands you and not bring weapons around my loved ones. Do we understand each other?" Kaoru asked and tilted his head to look back at them.

"Understood," each spoke with varying degrees of frustration or anger in their tone. Ainosuke with gritted teeth, Kojiro with a fake smile, and Tadashi as blank as always.

"I'm glad we understand eachother my pets," Kaoru turned and countinued down the sidewalk. Pink hair swishing gently behind him and the fabric of his clothing swishing with each step and each breeze that passed by as the sun set in ground of him and highlighted the edges of Kaoru’s figure.

They followed after him anyway, for they were the dogs and he was indeed their master.

They had the contract to prove it.

[viking-raider]

The Immortal Sky - Teaser!

Summary: The year is 2867 and Henry is a High Marshal in the Marshal Council of London (a cop basically), he lives in the second best Sector of London, Sector 2. Both, You and He, find yourselves in a situation Henry was trying to avoid and you were trying to save yourself from.

The sun was just coming over the horizon,—well, the almost 12 kilometer high wall that encompassed the entirety of the city of London.

After the fourth World War and destruction of more than eighty percent of the world at large, the powers to be in the remaining civilizations, built massive walls around themselves, protecting what little resources they had left for their own, the barren world outside of their walls, other cities still seeking world control and the outlaws they banished to the wastelands.

If you were so blessed to see the sunrise, or even see a teeny ray of its light, you were the lucky few to be in the hierarchy of the new world.

Henry was one of those people, his father was a Supreme Cleric in the Cleric Council, the second highest Council, in the Councils of London,  formed after the fall of the previous government and royal family, during the war. Giving him, his four brother, parents and their family, the best opportunities in the barely scraping by city. He had lived in Sector Two all of his life, the air was clear and mostly clean, thanks to the winds that weren't stopped, like in the Lower Sectors, because of the wall acted as a wind break, causing the air to become stagnant and poor quality, the lower you got.

It was known, the Lower you got in Sectors, the darker it became and not just because it received little to no sunlight. From Sector Eighteen to the bottom of Sector Thirty-Two, no natural light penetrated, the air was hazy, virtually and literally, the slums. Criminals of all Sectors went there to hide, just before the Marshals and Councils hunted them down and booted them to the other side of the wall. The technology was barely enough to function on, especially in a City consumed and dependent upon it. The Slummers, as higher Sectors nicknamed them, were given the worst, most dangerous and filthy jobs that other Sectors were too good for or refused to do. Working the mines to get the ore that built more buildings, buildings they would never see, maintaining the wall, mostly the outside of it, and whatever other demeaning work they could do to pay for their meager survival.

The biggest business for the Slummers came from indentured servitude, selling themselves to the Uppers, which they coined for people in light seeing Sectors, desperate to get out of the Slums and into a better life, even if it was as a servant and slave.

But, even if a Slummer didn't sell themselves into indentured servitude, their fellows would force them into it. Parents selling their children to Uppers to save their lives from the Lower Sectors, or the shadiest Slummers and Criminals kidnapping them and selling them off, getting paid big bucks by Uppers for it. Not enough to get them into Upper Sectors, but to live a lot more comfortably in the Lower ones.

The Councils of London had tried for years to prevent the slavery of Slummers, fearing the people of the Lower Sectors, that outnumbered the Upper Sectors, two to one, would riot and overtake them, if they didn't. But, after a century of countless raids and persecutions, it did little to slow it down, let alone eradicate it. So, the Councils stopped, but not all together. They still held one or two raids a month, keeping up the illusion of trying to prevent it, to keep the troublemakers threatening a coup, at bay and happy.

Many Lower Sector people didn't even have a life pin, the four to six number pin, issued at time of birth, to be used from anything to unlocking and locking the doors of your home and car, paying bills and buying anything, to identifying yourself. They were either not born in a hospital or the personal in the hospital didn't care about them enough to have one issued, knowing that many of the jobs they were going to be forced into wouldn't bother in asking for them, it was too much paper work, for someone that was liable to die at any given moment from their occupation, illness or assault, from the poor and criminal conditions of their Sector.

And that's where you found yourself.

[turtlepated]

The Ghost and the She-Wolf

Part 4

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Brace yourselves, buckos. There’s drama ahead.

Zhuk, pirate or otherwise, belongs as ever to @monsterlovinghours

Tag list: @beetlejuicebeadoll, @insomni-snacc, @do-ya-hear-that-sound, @young-erstill, @dilfyjuice, @nikkivfx

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You sat on the filthy floor of your cell, leaning back against cold, rough iron, and you thought. You thought of your days in the academy, studying, drilling, pushing yourself to the brink and beyond just to achieve recognition. The nay-sayers and the doubters, those who had snickered on the sidelines just waiting for the chance to watch you fail, you had proven them wrong. You had fought hard for your place in the ranks, and your effort had been rewarded with your own ship and crew and purpose. And now…. all were gone. Despite your best efforts, you could not forget the words Zhuk had spoken to you in his cabin: “It was you who elected to change the tone of our relationship.” With a sigh you drew your legs to your chest, folding your arms over your knees to bury your face. All your work, the risk and the danger, the lives of your men, all just to end up here; imprisoned, defeated. Warmth and pressure were building behind your eyes but you refused to cry. You had to get ahold of yourself, find some way out of this. After your sneak attack, you’d figured that Zhuk would make an example of you; keel haul you, lash you to the mast to bake in the sun. But so far, nothing. You’d been stowed down here like cargo and forgotten. There was a bucket of freshwater, at least, but you’d seen more than one rat sate it’s thirst from the water inside. You’d had no food since your last meal aboard the Invictus, and your stomach pinched painfully to remind you. Remorsefully you thought of the spread at the captain’s table, wishing you’d partaken after all.  

You could tell that the ship was underway, just as Zhuk had said. Repairs had been completed and the Perperuna had been cruising steadily for at least two days since your ill-conceived assassination attempt, but you had seen not a soul since. Maybe they were heading to some remote sandbar to maroon you. For the first time in days you heard the sound of heavy booted feet on the stairs just beyond your barred door. You hurriedly stood, swaying unsteadily both from the constant motion of the ship and your own malnourishment. The bosun appeared at the bottom of the stairs, rounding the corner and fixing you with an unreadable expression. “Captain wants to see you,” he said shortly, withdrawing a ring of iron keys from his belt and striding over to the door. It creaked shrilly when he opened it and stepped back, offering you no assistance as you padded from the cell, reaching out for the wall to steady yourself as you made your way up the steep stairwell. 

The bright daylight blinded you after so long in the near total darkness below deck and tears welled at once as you raised a hand to shield your eyes, blinking against the discomfort. As your vision adjusted you took a deep lungful of salty air, a welcome reprieve from the dank scent of mildew at the bottom of the ship. The bosun came up behind you, uttered a gruff, “This way”, and led you toward the bow. Even at a distance you could recognize the imposing figure of Captain Zhuk, standing on the forecastle deck facing away from you. Somehow you managed to follow the bosun up the short set of steps without stumbling, coming to stand just behind the pirate commander. Zhuk stood with a spyglass raised to his eye, scanning the horizon. He turned to you but said nothing, his piercing eyes drifting up and down your person. You must look a sight, but he did not comment on the state of you. Instead he extended the spyglass. “Have a look, volchitsa.” Confused, you took it from him and stepped up to the rail, peering through the glass at you didn’t know what. “What am I looking for?” you asked. He pointed at the expanse of open sea beyond the bow. “Just look and tell me what you see,” he replied. Shooting him a mistrustful glance, you did as he asked nonetheless. 

You could make out the faint outline of a large landmass to the port side, and directly ahead were small black dots that looked to be islands. “Where are we?” you asked, more thinking out loud than seeking answer. Zhuk answered you anyway. “Heading for the Java Sea.” You hummed absently, getting your bearings. The Java Sea lay between Borneo and Sumatra. Several hundred miles lay between them except for one point, where a series of small islands narrowed the passage. You swept the spyglass slowly along the lateral line where sea met sky, at last discerning a shape of hard straight lines that stood out from the natural curves and crags of the silhouetted islands. You squinted, adjusting the focus to try and see clearer. “Is that… a ship?” you murmured. Zhuk hummed by way of answer. “So it would seem,” he said. “Perhaps your naval comrades have come to rescue you?” He chuckled, either at the thought or because the chance of a sea battle thrilled him. You frowned disapprovingly at his enthusiasm, but part of you was intrigued by this development: it could be your chance to get off this ship. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” you said, still examining the distant vessel through the spyglass. “It almost looks like it’s made of metal.” 

The peculiar metal ship did not move from its position just off one of the smaller islands in the strait, it appeared to be waiting for the Perperuna. As the distance between the two craft lessened, Zhuk called for the sails to be shortened and the anchor to be dropped, keeping a shrewd eye on the strange new arrival off the bow. It was close enough now that you could count the men bustling about on deck, and by the familiar uniforms they all wore you could see that Zhuk had supposed correctly. Standing by the helm was another figure you recognized and you groaned in preemptive exasperation when you made the connection. “Something the matter, volchitsa?” Zhuk asked, turning to tower over you. His tone of genuine concern caught you off guard for a moment, but you did not dwell on it. “There could be,” you replied. “It’s Renard, I’m sure of it.” A former pirate himself, captured by the navy who had made a deal that allowed him to continue operating as a privateer, Hénri Renard, as he now styled himself, was perhaps your least favorite and most unsavory colleague. His methods were every bit as brutal now as they were when he was still reaving and pillaging, only now he did it on behalf of the Navy. If he was here, the Royal Navy must be aware of the Invictus’s fate and they had dispatched him to respond with his usual ruthlessness. 

Zhuk swept the spyglass from your hands and held it to his own eye, confirming your assessment. Your head turned, watching him in silence as your mind churned. Renard famously gave no quarter, not as a pirate or a privateer. As much as you had hated him, as much as you had yearned to personally clap him in irons and delivered him to the Navy, the idea of Renard getting his hands on the pirate captain beside you was deeply unsettling. For all the trouble you had caused one another all this time, Zhuk had saved your life; you, his sworn enemy. He had treated you as, perhaps not as a guest, but far better than you would have treated him had your roles been reversed. You had repaid his gesture with vitriol and violence, and yet he had not punished you unduly for your behavior. “Let me talk to him,” you heard yourself saying aloud even as the plan was forming in your mind. “Run up a white flag, send me to him in the longboat. I can parley a truce, I’m sure releasing me would persuade him to at least give you a head start.” Zhuk lowered the spyglass and dipped his chin to look you full in the face, his expression as stoic as ever while his eyes burned into yours. It felt like he was examining your very soul and you felt heat in your face. Even though you were fully clothed, the way he was looking at you made you feel utterly exposed.

 After a painfully long moment of consideration, Zhuk smiled and nodded. “As you will, volchitsa.” He turned to call over his shoulder, “Bosun, prepare the longboat. Raise the white flag!” A short while later you were seated in the small boat, lowered down the side of the Perperuna and rowing your way towards the anchored metal ship. You found yourself in its shadow, your head tilting back as you gazed up the cold iron plating. Several crewmen stood at the side, watching your progress. “State your name and business!” one shouted down to you. You called back your name, your rank, and informed him that you were a prisoner of the Perperuna come to parley with Captain Renard. The sailor left to relay your message, leaving you floating in the longboat. Not much later a ladder and rope were lowered to you. You secured the longboat and ascended to the deck. You followed a crewman to the navigation room, where Renard himself was seated with a cup of tea. His brow rose and a broad grin lit his features when you entered the room. “Ah, Captain! Welcome aboard the Colossus!” he called by way of greeting. “Rumors of your horrific demise were unfounded, I see!” You forced yourself to smile back, seating yourself in the chair opposite him. “I wish I could say the same for my ship,” you admitted. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Renard hummed into his teacup, setting it back in the saucer on an end table next to him. “Terrible business, couldn’t believe it when I heard. Explosion in the powder magazine, was it?” So he knew that but he didn’t know about the sea monster, or if he did he kept it to himself. Looking grim, you nodded once. “And then to be taken prisoner by the self-same criminal you’ve been pursuing…” He affected a sympathetic tone, but there was a gleeful light to his eyes as he said it and you bristled. Smoothing your ruffled feathers you tried to push the conversation forward. “I’m here to negotiate, Renard,” you said. “I’m unharmed, as you can see. Zhuk even saved my life, surely that can be taken into consideration by the Navy and the judiciary?” Renard gave a thoughtful hum, leaning back in his seat and steepling his fingers as he mulled over your question. “It’s quite possible,” he admitted at length. “Though piracy is piracy in the end, it is a detail that could be used in his favor in court.” You silently exhaled in relief. “But it hardly matters, does it?” 

There was a coldness, a maliciousness to Renard’s simple statement and when you met his gaze the look on his face chilled your blood. He was grinning pleasantly, but the mirth did not reach his eyes. “I have been tasked with exterminating the scourge of piracy, a task that you yourself apparently were not capable of seeing through.” Your hands bunched into tight fists on the arms of your seat and you sat forward, opening your mouth to argue, but he continued, speaking over you. “It is not the business of the Royal Navy to extend pardons to criminals based on one random act of charity. You could, of course, contact the judiciary, explain the situation and bid them to issue your pirate friend a letter of marque. But that’s a lengthy process, isn’t it? So much quicker to do things my way.” Panic spiked in your stomach as you scrambled for a way to reason with him. “What about the conglomerate!” you exclaimed. “You know the reports say that there is almost certainly a coalition of pirates working together! He’s sure to be part of it, and if he is he’ll know the names of the others! He has information that the Navy needs!” Renard made a face and a show of thinking it over. “Hmm, I don’t much see the point. Even if the conglomerate is real, any names will be irrelevant once they’re all at the bottom of the sea.”

Your jaw clenched and Renard’s grin only grew wider, enjoying the way you quietly boiled with fury. Unable to stop yourself, you snapped, “Pardoning criminals? You mean like yourself? If not for the mercy of the Navy and the judiciary, you’d be swinging in a gibbet, feeding the crows even now.” Renard laughed at that, a frigid and brittle sound like cracking ice (and nothing like the warm, deep belly-laughter of the Russian captain). “Oh, you think it was mercy, my dear? No, no, allow me to elucidate: it was enterprise that saved my neck. This ship,” he paused to gesture grandly at the room around you. “This machine, rather; my design. I offered them a device purpose-built for conquest on the sea, but I played my cards carefully and made myself indispensable. And just look at how far I’ve come.” Renard rose from his seat then, looking down his nose at you with that same reptilian grin. “So to summarize, Captain,” he said, putting sardonic emphasis on the word, “There will be no leniency today. You have conveniently seen to your own release, which leaves no need for quarter. Though, to be frank, since no one knew you were alive at all this is an unforeseen turn of events. But it changes nothing.” He strode past you towards the French doors, pausing in the doorway to have one last word. “Do make yourself comfortable. This won’t take long.”

You sat, paralyzed with shock and rage and, if you weren’t mistaken, fear. Zhuk may have sea monsters or whatever tricks up his sleeves but you knew Renard. He was many things, none of them good, but he was a man of his word. And this ship, you had no idea what it could do. It had been common knowledge that part of Renard’s plea deal had involved some sort of building plans, but in your wildest dreams you could never have imagined this iron monstrosity. You stood, certain of one thing above all others: you had to get back to the Perperuna. Zhuk had spared your life, not once but twice. You had to warn him. No one stopped you when you left the navigation room, or ordered you back from the rails when you cast down the ladder once again. You hadn’t really expected them to. You rowed hard back to Zhuk’s ship, wondering all the while what Renard was waiting for when he was already set on attacking. Bitterly you thought, Why does a cat play with a mouse? The bosun looked surprised when you hauled yourself back over the railing after the crew had raised the longboat back into its davits. “Where’s Zhuk?” you asked without preamble, and the man pointed toward the door that led below decks. You thundered down the narrow corridor to the captain’s door, shoving it open without knocking. Zhuk spun around at your loud entrance, standing at his desk. “Volchitsa,” he began, sounding genuinely surprised. “What are you doing here?” “He’s going to attack,” you gasped, desperate to impart this crucial information. “Even if I hadn’t come at all, he was always going to attack. He means to sink the ship.” Zhuk hummed grimly, crossing the room in a few long strides to stand beside you. For a long moment neither of you moved or spoke, though you did tense when he lifted a hand to carefully tuck a strand of your windswept hair behind your ear. “You have my gratitude, dorogoy,” he rumbled softly. You weren’t sure if the heat in your cheeks was a result of the display of tenderness or gentle words or your exertion in the rowboat, but you gave your head a little shake, feeling that he did not fully appreciate the urgency. “Didn’t you hear me?” you practically shouted. “Renard is going to kill you!” Zhuk chuckled warmly, but there was steel in his eyes as he replied, “He may try.” Rapid footfalls pounded up the passage behind you and you both turned to see the bosun. “Captain! The enemy ship is moving, sir! Looks like we’re in for a fight.” Zhuk laid a heavy hand on your shoulder and turned you back around to face him. “Stay here,” he said, indicating his cabin. “I will come for you when it’s over.” Without waiting for your protestations, he bustled past you and closed the door after himself. You stood alone in the cabin, feeling panic bubbling up from your innards as Zhuk’s booming bellow drifted to you from the deck, telling the crew to man their stations and prepare for battle. 

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 [Translation: dorogoy, “my dear”]

Historical accuracy? Nope, don’t know her. I’m just here to have fun with pirates.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

[infernorp]

name: rahim ahmadi

age: thirty five

gender and pronouns: cis male, he/his

loyalty: destler

occupation: none

criminal occupation: adviser for the destler crime organization

faceclaim: dominic rains

It would have been easy to call your life perfect. When you woke up in the mornings, even the simplest sensation of the sunlight on your face was enough to make your heart feel as though it was ready to burst. Your face never knew an expression other an a grin so wide it threatened to split handsome features down the middle. Your wife would tug at one stray curl in the middle of your forehead with a smirk and a kiss; 'my Superman,' she would whisper, close enough to feel her breath on your lips, 'What could anyone possibly have to fear with you by their side?' She was your world, your life, the reason for your existence. But protecting her was never enough; you had too much love in your heart to be confined to simply one person, and a sense of duty called you to the police force. Your wife would always come first in your life and in your heart, but the goodness beating between your ribs ached to spill out and cover the city in a blanket of serenity. Eventually they called you their captain, their chief and leader. Daroga. The promotion was met with a playful salute from your wife, every suggestion or domestic query met with a staunch, 'Yes, sir.' Then, later, you would sweep her off her feet and she would whisper in your ear, 'captain of my heart, now the captain of the city. Is there anything you can't do, my love?' Two rough hands would smooth the hair away from her face in anticipation of a kiss, and you would murmur back, 'no, nothing.' Part of you almost believed it for a time. You learned the answer too late.

One day you found the test in the bottom of the bathroom trash can. Pregnant. It wasn't something either of you were expecting, but you liked to think you were ready. You certainly had enough love in you to extend to another person, especially if that person could fit into your arms and had the eyes of the one you loved most. You were expecting little feet hitting the floors of your tiny apartment with a determination that came from your bones, your spirit. You didn't expect to come home to a pool of blood on that same floor, your wife broken and bleeding, gone by the time you came through the door and the baby with her. The doctor assured you there was nothing you could have done. You throw a single white rose down onto her casket, hot tears spilling down tanned cheeks, bottom lips trembling. 'I should have been able to do everything for you.' The two of you could have lived to be a hundred with a castle full of children and grandchildren and it still would never have been enough, she always would have deserved more. She especially didn't deserve this ending, the pen trailed off the page in the middle of a brand new chapter long before the end of the book. And you were left staring heavy-hearted at a collection of blank pages, not knowing what to do with your own story anymore. It's only been a handful of years since you lost her, and already the memory seems so distant. Trying to think of how she felt in your arms feels like trying to remember the words to your favorite song; something you should know, something you've thought of for more hours than you can count, and then somehow, suddenly, it's not there one day. You were ready to believe the love deep within you had run dry. And then you found him. Or, rather, he found you, dirty and unshaven and handcuffed; arrested for stealing a few days worth of food from a vendor down the street. Dropped at your feet begging for mercy. You could see in his eyes that while his cracked lips formed easily around the word, it wasn't something he had much experience with. The well within you which you had capped with black silk and flowers long ago suddenly started to bubble up again of its own accord. You slipped your hand under his chin and smiled at him until his own features echoed the expression in a kind of grateful bewilderment, and then you took his hand in yours and ask him what led him to this kind of desperation. He confessed his life to you, his story, his sins, and you took pity on him. No, more than pity. Took an interest in him. He needed someone to protect him, and you so desperately needed someone to protect. That night, under the cover of darkness, you unlocked his cell, released him from his handcuffs, and fled with him. Somewhere, anywhere. Any place that would hold you. Eventually you found yourselves in Paris, on Madalene's doorstep. Now somehow you find yourself in the middle of the very crime you once sought to eradicate. But you have a meaning again, a purpose. Something to fight for. That is the law you've always followed first and foremost.

associates: antonin petrovic, cherry langley, fleur renard, gregory renard, lea jammes, lisette sorelli, meg giry, sebastian renard, and xavier carmen

"comrades": edmond ledoux, helene theodosopoulos, jacqueline mifroid, kristos vallas, rhys falcón, and veronica perez

grateful to: christine daae and madalene giry

ERIK DESTLER

He still calls you 'Daroga,' but it feels more like a slap in the face than the term of admiration and respect and fondness it once was. You look at each other with sad eyes and both know you abandoned everything you once knew to come here and be with him, to protect him and keep him out of harm's way. He needs someone to stand behind him, a comforting hand steady on his shoulder, a soft voice in one ear to tell him that everything is alright. You can't really blame him for being so selfish; he's never known the family you once had, the career and prestige you abandoned to trek across the globe in search of validation for him. You can't fault someone for not knowing the pull of a void they've never known. He was born with that hole, never had it filled, never known the feeling of being whole and being loved. He can't miss something that he's never had, so he doesn't know what it is that you're missing for his sake. But the corners of his melancholy eyes wrinkle with something like looks almost like happiness, appreciation, when he looks at you, and it makes your chest ache. Perhaps you'll never get back the life you left behind in the Middle East, but your life here in Paris is filled with a love that you could never regret.

GIGI DESTLER

In Gigi you see the kind soul that her brother would have possessed had the world not treated him so cruelly for so long, and your love stretches to encompass her for it. In a way, you're glad you have each other to lean on when things get too difficult; you both know how much you've given up for Erik's sake, how much he's cost you, and how gladly you'd do it all again. It's even a blessing that Erik's placed her with you in intelligence, out of the line of fire and safely at your right hand. It's no secret you favor her over Lucien, but it's also no secret that Lucien is better at getting the job done sometimes. Gigi is soft, too soft sometimes, and these past few years have hardened you. You almost want to send her away before you can see her lips lose that beautiful smile you've grown so fond of, but you'd be too cowardly to ever hurt her, too selfish to ever wish her any place but beside you.

LUCIEN ROUSSEAU

When you found Lucien, he was living in a mobile home under a bridge at the mouth of a filthy, gaping lake; practically in the sewers. Erik has insisted he find other lodgings — it's a disdain for that disgusting smell masquerading as kindness — but he carries a way about him still that's reminiscent of the life he led before, something he can't seem to shake. His eyes seem to wander while you're talking to him, taking in everything about the surroundings, avoiding meeting your gaze in an effort to instead map the area should he have to escape. Shaking hands with him seems to leave a sheen of grime on your own palm, and his smile is insincere. Slimy. You once asked him what he does best, what he could offer. 'I deal with the rats, sir.' At first, you didn't understand what he meant, but it didn't take long. Not rats of the gutter, as you had been anticipating, but the rats of the streets; traitors, double-crossers, liars, and thieves. People you hated, and hated dealing with. You've never been the most fond of Lucien either, and don't think you will be, but you suppose for the time being the enemy of your enemy must be your friend.

THIS CHARACTER HAS A SEMI-FLEXIBLE FACECLAIM AND IS OPEN

[gutawakens]

Fuck Trump (the Antichrist) and all the sick and twisted fucks worshipping him legions of demons!!! Trump is the Antichrist and so are you people and I am not condemning a single person on the planet but God is watching you, Jesus is watching you and you followers of Antichrist and slaves of sin and self-righteous filthy swine raping the minds of innocent, forcing your will on the entire fucking world, worshipping yourselves and putting your trust in mankind instead of in God!!! Ahhhhhhh!!!! The power of Christ in the name of Yeshua in the name of my Father Yahweh smite my enemies and bring peace to creation!!! I pray for them to all turn from their wicked ways before it’s too late for them!!! Social status is the biggest fucking idol there is and you know there will be more criminals and drug addicts and homeless people and homosexuals and serial killers and Hells Angels and rebels and Outlaws and mentally ill and alcoholics and people of other religions in Heaven than there will be Christians!!! There are how many who will step up and put their trust in God??? Walk like Jesus??? Or keep speaking fucking blasphemy!!! There will be rapists in heaven before the fucking worshippers of man claiming to trump the world in the name of Christ while raping the minds of the innocent and blaspheming Yeshua, blaspheming the Holy Spirit, taking the Lord’s name in vain, making their own rules and saying God’s are too difficult when their fucking rules are completely insane!!! You are the murderers, you are the worshippers of false idols, you are the false gods, you are the ones elevating yourselves higher than God himself and you are the ones taking a shit on Jesus’ whole life’s work and sacrifice!!!!! The inner city, the gangs, the prisons, third world countries, anything off the grid or hiding out from the government is all safer for me than fucking Northwest Iowa where people are all worshipping their reputations and so is the entire fucking Christian church except what maybe a fraction of a percent??? You kill your own savior repeatedly every second of every day and you don’t believe that God is watching you or that he is in control??? Then shut the fuck up!!! https://www.instagram.com/p/CSN5JPCAFaC/?utm_medium=tumblr

[sonsoffenris]

Merrick sighed with satisfaction as he gazed at the night sky. The stars shone brilliantly while the full moon cast the forest clearing in an eerie white light. With a belly full of meat and wine, he lay down upon the mossy ground beside a crackling fire. Radomil and Amis soon followed suit, having had their fill of the feast and organising the day’s takings. Coin pouches, weapons, food, drink and trade commodities were laid out neatly in the shelter of a fallen tree to be spirited away and fenced come sunrise. Merrick turned to his side, staring at the loot gleefully. Gold and jewels had their endless charms, but he would trade his entire share for one item in the haul; a single sword. It was a rare beauty, unlike any he had seen before. From the point, sharp as a Hapry’s talons came a razor edged blade devoid of any chips or scratches. No hammer marks or corrosion stained the highly polished metal. The quillons were pointed forward along the blade like claws grasping at its prey. Merrick’s eyes followed the lines of the sheathed weapon from end to end and took in every detail of the engraved leather carefully before coming eye to eye with the pommel, the grisly visage of a snarling bear’s head. His eyes began to fail him as fatigue set in. His eyelids heavy, Merrick relaxed himself and let sleep set in; all the while imagining taking the weapon for his own. Surely with a blade like that he could strike fear into the heart of many a traveller. Any quarry would be his without any bloodshed once his prey set eyes on it. Merrick’s eyes shot open as a loud crack came from the forest. The horses of the gang’s victims snorted and shied away from the source of the commotion, pulling their reins taught against a tree stump. The three men leapt to their feet, taking up arms in a perimeter around their sputtering fire. Merrick and Radomid peered out into the gloom, straining to see anything in the darkness while Amis haphazardly readied a torch.

“My apologies, sirs!” Said the shadows. “Could I trouble you for a place by the fire?”

Merrick cleared his throat and looked to his two accomplices, both frozen in fear.

“Show yourself!” He exclaimed. “I fear I cannot extend my hospitality to a voice!”

The shadow replied with a sinister chuckle as a figure emerged into the moonlight. The white light did little to reveal the visitor’s shrouded features, but for the sheathed longsword held in its grasp.

“Much better!” Merrick said, his tone relaxing. “If you would be so kind as to hand over that razor you are more than welcome to our gathering.”

“Of course!” Replied the stranger as he handed his weapon to his host cheerfully. “My name is Fingal, of Ard Skellig.”

Merrick motioned to his two compatriots to lower their weapons. “I’m Merrick, there’s is Amis and the bald ‘un there is Radomil.” The introduction was met with an indignant snort from the tall, bald man.

“A pleasure!” Fingal said warmly before settling into the nook of a tall oak. He cast a stealthy glance at the collection of loot a few steps away from him. Amis quickly threw a filthy blanket over the treasure.

“What are you doing out here. stranger?” Merrick asked. “Folks say all sorts of beasts call this place home.” A barely perceivable smile danced across Merricks features, followed by a similar look from his two compatriots.

“Merely passing through!” Fingal reached into his cloak as he spoke. Quick as lightning, Radomil took up a rusty mace, preparing himself to strike. Merrick made a quick wave of his hand and Radomil lowered the weapon slowly. After a pregnant pause, Fingal retrieved a wine skin from within the woolen folds and threw it to Merrick. “I must admit, I became somewhat lost travelling through the woods. Praise Melitele I came across you fellows!”

Merrick bit down on the cork stopper and tore from the skin, staring at Fingal intently all the while. He could get the sense of a person quickly after his years dealing with all sorts of criminals, killers, and con merchants, but this man was an enigma to him. There was no outward sign of the stranger posing a threat and yet Fingal’s every move set Merrick on edge. The hood covering the man’s features frustrated him to no end. Taking a long swig of sweet wine from the skin he lobbed it to Amis, rolling his eyes in embarrassment as Amis barely caught the container and spilled its contents over his stained shirt.

“Take down that hood, stranger.” Radomil said forcefully. Fingal took note of the rows of missing and broken teeth adorning the bald giant’s mouth as he spoke. The man had seen his share of brawls.

“I apologise, gentlemen.” Fingal replied anxiously. “An old war wound from my youth. Quite a mess up here, I assure you!” He chuckled.. “I prefer to keep myself covered, don’t want to scare folks off, after all.” Amis and Radomil chuckled, warming to their new guest. Merrick on the other hand remained stoic, painting his face with a false smile. “In any case, what brings you three you to these gods forsaken woods?”

“Trade.” Merrick answered, quick as a whip. His two accomplices remained silent, busying themselves with drink. “We’re on the way to Vergen and decided to travel on rather than stay at the inn a while back.”

“I see.” Fingal said thoughtfully. “Novice merchants, I assume?”

Merrick bristled. “What gives you that idea?” He asked, brushing a hand through his thin, greasy hair.

“Well, a more seasoned traveller would have better knowledge of the land.”

“I suppose you’re right…” Merrick replied with a nervous chuckle. “What about you, then?”

“Oh, I’m just an old drifter these days. Make my living moving from town to town telling tall tales, doing odd jobs, that sort of thing.”

“Stories?” Radomil blurted, sending red tinted spittle flying toward Fingal. “How about repayin’ our generosity with a yarn?”

Merrick nodded with consent. “Yes! Give us some entertainment, stranger,” He had him now. He suppressed a predatory smirk as he watched Fingal. Surely he would lose his nerve.

Fingal stroked the thick bristles covering his chin in thought. “I wonder…” With a click of his fingers, the stanger’s half covered features brightened. “I have a new tale. One I haven’t had the chance to put to an audience yet! Would that suffice?”

Amis stopped draining the wine skin for a moment. “By all means!” He shouted, adding a loud belch before returning to the drink.  

“Very well then. Settle yourselves and get comfortable, friends! I shall tell you the tale of the hunter!” Fingal announced with a booming voice.

“Not long ago, a simple hunter travelled through parts not so different to these.” He spread his arms wide, motioning to the surroundings. “He searched for new quarry. deer, boar, anything to feed his family better than simple game and hare. Desperation drove him deeper into the woods. Trees and bushes pushed in around him and before long he found himself lost and alone, his horse would carry him no further.”

“Get to the good bit!” Radomil heckled. Merrick smiled wryly, watching for Fingal’s response.

“Patience!” The storyteller said with a laugh. “You’re more impatient than a toddler about to piss himself!” Radomil put on a faux expression of injury before unleashing a hearty laugh.

“As I was saying. The hunter went on alone, deeper and deeper into the darkness. Suddenly, a bellowing screech filled the air!”

Fingal suddenly animated, jumping to his feet while maintaining his shroud. Radomil applauded while Merrick and Amis flinched, grasping for their weapons before Fingal continued.

“From the shadows came the slender figure of a woman. For a moment the hunter was stunned by her beauty before her face was revealed by light of the full moon. One side was that of fair, ivory skin and flowing blonde hair. The other was the image of death itself; skin burned and scarred, stretched thin across her ragged face and a single eye that blazed like a burning coal! She wailed again, the hunter recoiled in terror and took to his heels. Charging as fast as his legs could carry him, he found himself in familiar ground. Praising the gods under his breath he looked for his horse. The faithful steed has disappeared and with it his salvation. The man fell to his knees, unable to go on. Not only had his escape eluded him, but his weapon. A beautiful sword-”

Merrick’s eyes went wide. He looked over at the treasure haul, noticing the unique weapon still visible over the hastily placed blanket. This has to be a coincidence... He thought to himself. Looking down at Fingal’s sword, realisation hit him. The blade in his lap, with it’s engraved leather sheath and expertly crafted blade. Finished with a bear’s head on its pommel.

“-passed down his family for generations. A snarling bear’s head adorned the heirloom;  the mark of his once noble family. Death came for him soon after, and it is said his spirit still haunts these woods, vengeful and angry. Seeking his weapon and the thieves who took it. In fact, it is said that the sword is cursed, forever dooming those who come across it….” Fingal finished his tale with a bow and as he raised his head he met the gaze of the his audience, weapons drawn and ready.

“So, what now?” Merrick barked. “We hand over this ‘cursed’ sword? Are you the vengeful spirit?” He laughed heartily with his men. “So the horse we…nicked the other day was yours?”

“It was.” Fingal replied. The rasping, cheerful voice was gone, replaced by the rumbling growl of a younger man. He reached to his chest and removed the pin holding his cloak in place. The garment dropped to the floor silently, revealing dark chainmail nestled under leather armour and on top of the layers hung a large steel medallion in the visage of a ravenous ursine beast. Merrick took a step away from the stranger and raised his weapon before a scream halted him with a start. Amis stood with his mouth agape as his stare was met my Fingal’s snake like eyes, glowing bright orange in the gloom.

“What are you….” Amis whispered.

“Witchman!” Radomil barked.

“Three of us against one freak?” Merrick said nervously. “You supposed t’ scare us?! Bastard doesn’t even have a weapon!”

“Oh, you shouldn’t be afraid of me. Not at all.” Fingal spread his arms wide, opening himself to ahis foes. “Her, however.” He pointed behind Radomid. “Her, you

be afraid of,”

Radomid turned, locking eyes with ‘her’ just in time for a long, razor sharp blade to pierce his throat. The bald thief clutched at his neck and the sword embedded in it, slicing open his hands as blood flowed freely from the wound. The last image to enter his mind was the monster of Fingal’s story. The  weapon’s owner gazed at him as he futilely gasped for air. Her half burned face contorted into a scowl as the blade sank deeper, punching through his spine. Her glowing eye remained fixed on Radomil as he went limp and crashed to the ground. Merrick made to turn to the new threat when Fingal contorted his fingers, projecting a blast of force that crashed into the campfire. Flaming debris and glowing ash hurtling through the air. Amis yelped as the fragments flew into his eyes. He landed on his knees screaming in pain, hysterically clawing at his burning eyeballs. A polished blade coated in crimson flashed in the moonlight, casting a shining arc through the darkness before slashing into the screaming figure.

Fingal crashed into Merrick, tackling him onto the ground and hammering down vicious punches onto his foe. Merrick raised his arms across his face in a desperate bid to defend himself. He could feel his forearms swell under the force of the impacts almost immediately, forcing a scream from his lips. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, an object rolled into view. Still holding back the torrent of blows from Fingal, Merrick stared at the object with horror. As his eyes focussed he picked out the details; ruddy skin, a large nose, a mouth hanging open, and blackened eyelids screwed shut. Amis.

“Enough, please! Mercy!” Merrick wailed. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes.

Fingal was relentless in his assault. With inhuman strength the threw merrick’s defences aside, opening his foe to his next strike.

“You beg?!” He roared. “Did the people you robbed and killed beg? Did you show them mercy?”

“I..I…” Merrick choked on his words. Mewling and screaming in fear, he wordlessly begged for his life.

“Coinneach, just end it.” Came a voice from the dark. It was harsh and deep, yet unmistakably female.

The Witcher closed his eyes and nodded before he looked down at Merrick. For a single moment the thief thought he would be spared before Coinneach’s fist slammed down. Merrick’s head smashed off of the ground beneath him. There was a sickening crack and the battered thief’s eyes went wide. The moans and yells of protestation were cut off soon after as a blade punched into the thief’s heart. With a final gasp, Merrick was gone.

Coinneach got to his feet with a grunt and placed a dagger back into its sheath.

“Excellent timing.” Coinneach quipped.

“I couldn’t stand any more of that fucking story. Why even go through with that?” The woman responded. She took up Coinneach’s stolen blade and admired it as her mentor spoke.

“For information.” He replied matter of factly. “If I didn’t get a good look at what we were dealing with, we’d never have noticed this.” Coinneach kicked Amis’ body out of the way unceremoniously, revealing a crudely carved wooden block shaped into a three toed foot.

“A hoax?” She spat. “

tricked the villagers?”

“It’s easy to fool simple folk, Kamil. Especially when all manner of outlaws and monsters have them living in fear.” Coinneach marched to Kamil and reached out for his sword, which Kamil evaded.

“You know…” She removed the weapon from its sheath and gave it a swing, feeling the weight. The blade sang sweetly as it sliced through the air. “I could get used to a fancy razor like this.”

“I’ll pass these on to you one of these days.” Coinneach replied with a smile. He deftly snatched the sword and sheath from Kamil’s grip and placed them together in a fluid motion.

Kamil let out a sarcastic sigh. “What now?”

“We gather the loot, saddle it on these horses and take them back to town.”

“You’ve got to be kidding…” Kamil said quietly.

“Do I often joke? Get to work, little Witcher.”

[ar3volut1on]

If tomorrow was the day of the rapture, would you be left behind?  I fear many would; many claim to be Christians on Sunday but live like the world the rest of the week, many deny Christ and reject God outright, many are just so wrapped up in themselves to even care.  But one day they will, one day the true church will be gone, millions will have disappeared and the world will be in chaos.  My heart aches when thinking of it, I know there are some I love and care for who live for themselves who probably will still be here come the following day, some who will be left behind.  It doesn’t have to be that way though.  It’s so easy to ensure that your among the raptured saints, that you are saved, spared from the wrath to come that will then begin to be poured out upon the earth and all who are left on it.

God’s escape plan from hell, is also His escape plan from wrath – Jesus!  It’s that simple and for us prideful, stubborn humans that hard.  Jesus is always the answer yet we so often fail to realize it.  Right now I want to tell you about Him, about my King, my Lord, my Savior.  But in order to do that you have to face some harsh, ugly truths about yourselves, it won’t be fun but like a life-saving surgery it is necessary.  Ready or not, here we go.

You are a sinner, we all are actually, every single child born of man since Adam ate the fruit in the garden all those years ago is a sin filled being.  Just look around you at the state of the world to see the evidence of this.  We hate on a scale that is mind boggling and what we hate we try to destroy.  Whether it is the unborn babies slaughtered each day by the millions, ripped limb by limb from the womb which should be the safest place for them save in the arms of God; or the precious child past a certain age is delivered all but the head into this world when a pair of sharp scissors pierce it’s tender flesh at the base of the neck and severe it’s spinal cord before the head is pulled free from it’s mother’s body.  It’s own mother who is supposed to love, cherish, and protect her child just brutally murdered it instead.  Or what about when we decide that we as certain type of person decide we are better than another, that we have more right to life and it’s sustaining resources than another person, one in someway different from us, maybe they have more or less melanin in their skin than us, maybe we are more intelligent in our own eyes than they are, maybe we think we are superior in some way to all these other people, so we decide they are worth less than those like us.  We decide that they have less rights to the resources of this world, to the things we want and need to live, suddenly in our eyes their worthless, a drain on precious resources and as selfish men we make the decision that they’ve got to go.  So we kill them, those we deem parasites, leaches on society.  Never happen you say, I beg to differ.  Ask the millions of ethnic groups enslaved or slaughtered throughout history.  Ask a Jew about the atrocities of the Holocaust and Hitler, a Russian about Lenin or worse yet Stalin, ask a Native American, ask a christian in a muslim country, ask one of the millions of aborted babies around the world each day.  We humans have gotten very good at killing one another for made up reasons as if one life is more important, more valuable than another.

Nothing could be farther than the truth though, we’ve been buying the devils lie that we are better than others for far too long now.  Satan hates us, he has spent the last 6 millennia trying to destroy us by trying to make us destroy one another.  But that’s never been God’s plan.  See God loves each of us as dearly; so dearly that in spite of our wicked, depraved nature he did something absolutely amazing for us, to save us from our wicked ways.  God sent us His only Son, Jesus the Christ to die for us.

See God is a holy, perfect God.  Everything He created was perfect in fact but when Adam and Eve listened to the deceiver Satan’s lies and ate of the fruit God warned them off sin entered the world, the whole creation God’s perfect work became fallen, cursed.  Now it groans under that curse,growing increasingly weak, sick, depraved with each passing year.  When this fall happened Adam and Eve found out the hard way the consequences of sin – death.  Sin separates us from God, separates us from life eventually.  So God had to provide a solution for this, so we as men could be restored and reconciled to Him, our Creator, our Maker. That solution was to send His Son to become man, and to take our place in the punishment and payment for our rebellion, for our sin.

Jesus was God’s Son, but He was also God – hard to grasp I know; I kinda get it better when I think of how I am a daughter, wife and mother all three of which are very distinct parts of me, almost like separate beings but they are all still me.  It’s the same with God only more so, where my different roles are all stuck in one body He isn’t bound by our mortal physical bounds and He can be Father, Son and Spirit in one mind but three beings.  And that little gem of truth is the glorious part of God that enabled Him to come to earth as fully man; albeit not born of man and his corrupted seed but by a woman, a virgin, thereby not being bound under the curse of sin.  As a man he was born and lived just as we do with one big exception, He never sinned.  Instead Jesus was a perfect example for how we should strive to live.  And when they time came He willingly paid the price for our sin by dying for us.  When Jesus was crucified on the cross His precious blood was poured out as the covering for sin.  When we believe this, believe in Jesus as God’s only Son who died for us.  That His shed blood, pure and true, washes away all our filthy sins, then we are saved.

Saved from the consequences of our sin, saved from death.  It’s as if we were a criminal (after all God made all true laws, they’re called the 10 Commandments, and we have all broken them) standing before a judge (a perfect, holy, righteous judge God) about to have sentence passed for our crimes.  DEATH, that’s the just sentence handed down, the consequences for our rebellion against God.  We must die and be forever separated from the one who created us, who loves us.  But as we are about to be taken away to pay our debt, to have our just punishment carried out a man speaks from the back, “I’ve paid this debt, Father.  See my blood, it covers their sins.” And that easily we are forgiven, our sin erased, forgotten by God, we free to live.  Live fully for the first time knowing that our sins are forgiven, that we are right with God our Father, we are secure in the Son and filled with the Spirit to lead and guide us until the day we are called home to heaven.  In that day our broken, mortal, sin scarred bodies will be shed and our souls freed to await the resurrection when we receive the bodies that God created us to have before the fall, before the curse and it’s effects.

That’s the final part of God’s redemptive plan, the resurrection.  One day our bodies will die but not forever.  Just as Jesus rose, resurrected, glorified, alive on the third day after he was crucified we too will one day rise alive and glorified.  That is hope people and that is love, that while we were yet wicked, sin-filled, lying, cheating, rebels Jesus saw past that and paid our debt saying “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.”

Now that you know how to be saved let me go back to my opening statement about the rapture and being left behind.  See one day God is going to judge man for his rebellion, for rejecting Him and his precious Son sent to save man from death.  When that judgement begins to be poured out upon the earth it’s going to be bad, real bad, so bad in fact that if God didn’t shorten those days no life would be left on earth.  This period of judgement is known as Jacob’s Trouble or Daniel’s 70th week and encompasses a total of 7 years, divided at the halfway point by an act known as the Abomination of Desolation committed by the world leader often referred to as the Antichrist, this kicks things into overdrive and marks the beginning of the Great Tribulation when judgement is passed and wrath as punishment poured out.  This time period of 3 1/2 years is like every natural and man made catastrophe and war ever on steroids condensed into a few years.  It’s bad and the loss of life during it is staggering.  But there is good, no great news if you are a believer and follower of Christ BEFORE this period starts; you don’t have to go through it.  Nope, you are spared from wrath, not appointed to it.  Instead the body of true believers, Christ followers washed in the blood, the church will be called up to be with Christ in heaven where He ascended to be with His Father 40 days after His resurrection.  We will be in heaven with our Father, and with our Savior! Our story is glorious just as the story of those left on earth is tragic, I have talked about it in numerous posts but tonight let’s just let my previous statement say it all.  And let me pray that my plea here tonight has touched your heart for Jesus, that you realize your sin, your guilt, and your punishment, repent of those sins and turn from them.  Then cry out to the Savior and ask Him to save you, wash you clean in the power of His shed blood.  Then go and live for Him, follow Him, share the good news that fills you as you look up for our redemption from this world draweth nigh.

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As always my beloved brothers and sisters in Christ may the Father bless, keep and strengthen you as you continue to:

Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, whereunto thou art also called, and hast professed a good profession before many witnesses. 1 Timothy 6:12

knowing that you can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth you. Philippians 4:13

No One Left Behind If tomorrow was the day of the rapture, would you be left behind?  I fear many would; many claim to be Christians on Sunday but live like the world the rest of the week, many deny Christ and reject God outright, many are just so wrapped up in themselves to even care. 

[republicstandard]

Harvey Weinstein and the Death of 'Liberal' America

Weinstein is a goner. Everyone knows it. It would be a great surprise if the man stands trial. The weird thing is, we all knew about Hollywood. Hell, the exact behavior of Weinstein and people like him is a trope so well engrained in our culture that porn movies that riff on the behavior rack up millions of views.

Editor's Note: This piece was originally published on my now permanently banned Medium.com account on October 13, 2017. It was read over 100,000 times on that site. It is still accurate in my opinion, so I have republished it here. Strange how yet again we hear of an FBI investigation beginning, but never ending. ~A.S

As ever, hypocrisy underpins everything. Berated from the podium of award ceremonies, we, the plebs, the cattle, the consumers, we are instructed. Don’t be sexist. Don’t be racist. Black lives matter. The liberal elites are better than you. Much better. We are rich, you are not. We know what is best, and if you disagree with our agenda, who cares. We are gods.

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They look down on our petty behavior and sneer, and turn their eyes aside when their friends behave in ways that truly are deplorable.

That is the attitude that allowed Weinstein to bugger his way through busloads of wannabe starlets. The glitterati Cosa Nostra has a vow of silence that protects them all. I’ll keep your secrets, you keep mine, and the gravy train keeps running. The cattle buy their tickets to see the movies we make, and who cares about a few broken women along the way.

As Actress Sophie Dix said:

“I was very, very vocal about it at the time. I didn’t want to own it. I wanted people to take it away from me. But I was met with a wall of silence. People who were involved in the film were great, my friends and my family were amazing and very compassionate, but people in the industry didn’t want to know about it, they didn’t want to hear.”

They didn’t want to hear. Rose McGowan was right to call out Ben Affleck. Oh, well done Ben; you told Weinstein to stop. Guess what? You weren’t convincing, and then it turns out that, at best, you’re a sleaze yourself. He said he’s saddened and angry about Harvey. Yeah, Ben. Us too.

Now that the FBI is involved, who else is in line to be toppled by the sizable domino of Weinstein?

Meryl Streep

Meryl is a national treasure, a confidant of Harvey Weinstein, and outspoken figurehead of the industry. If there’s a progressive cause, she’s there to lend a voice. Such a darling, she will happily slather on orange facepaint and a suit to impersonate Donald Trump and sing, at the top of her lungs:

“Problem now with society, we’re all hung up on propriety … She can sample my Measure for Measure.”

Wow, sure seems like she knows exactly what she’s talking about here. Donald Trump must be a bad guy, after all, this is Meryl Streep. She would know.

“I didn’t know about these other offenses: I did not know about his financial settlements with actresses and colleagues; I did not know about his having meetings in his hotel room, his bathroom, or other inappropriate, coercive acts,” she said. “And If everybody knew, I don’t believe that all the investigative reporters in the entertainment and the hard news media would have neglected for decades to write about it.”

Isn’t that precious. The mainstream media, who have chased conservative scandals with the perspicacity of a coke-crazed Glenn Close character, would surely have reported on such widespread abuse.

So Meryl is off the hook. No one would believe that someone whose career rose in parallel with Weinstein’s could possibly have heard what literally everyone else knew to be true.

Ben & Matt & George & Quentin & Brad & Leonardo &….

Ugh. White supremacy hand signals too.

Here’s what is confusing me, Mr Affleck; I wonder if you could help me out. So, when Brad tells Harvey to back off Gwyneth, and when Ben tells Harvey to knock it off, but it keeps going for decades- what’s up with that? Was it just because Harvey and his peccadillos kept you rolling in cash? Is that why you prostituted your morals?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you convinced yourselves at the time that you tried. The feminists claim that they don’t need no man, and you guys are of course ready to back up anything so long as you don’t have to actually act. Act, as in, take action. Not the act that you snakes have been putting on for 20 years or more, pretending that your industry isn’t riddled with criminals.

Here’s the thing. Any man in the real world, we see some guy assaulting women- he’s toast. Or at least he should be. Imagine this- ten men know about a sex offender living on their street. They watch as he creeps on the local girls. They don’t report it, they don’t kick his teeth in; a couple of them say, hey- that’s not cool please stop.

The sex offender pays them off and carries on.

What would you think of these men? Are they heroes? Great actors, philanthropists and role models? No.They are spineless worms. It’s not PC to say anymore but one of the roles of man in human society has always been to protect women from danger, which mostly comes from other men. Have we just decided to say f-ck it? Is that the price of equality?

Would you stand by while women are abused? Would someone being rich and powerful prevent you from beating the hell out of them if they assaulted your daughter? I would like to think not. I think any man worth a damn would drag Harvey Weinstein through hell for half of that.

So, why is Hollywood so divorced from reality that men stand by as girls young enough to be their daughters are abused by men old enough to be grandfathers? It boggles the mind. How corrupt. The hypocrisy stinks.

Let us all remind ourselves never to give another cent to Hollywood. These movie stars are either cowards, complicit or literally the dumbest people on Earth.

That’s a lot of movie stars scrambling to overturn American democracy to prevent the will of the people being recognized. I do hope none of them knew about Harvey. That would be unfortunate.

The Clintons & The Obamas

This should be open and shut. Hillary says she was sick and appalled when she found out. I’m sure she was, but I don’t think that Hillary found out with the rest of us about her donor Harvey Weinstein.

Are we to believe that a former President and a former Secretary of State not once was told about Weinstein? Do these people not vet their supporters before reciprocating the support?

Of course they do.

A man comes up to you and gives you a cheque for $100,000. He says he believes in your cause. He asks for nothing, but you thank him in public and say he is great. You later discover that man is a criminal, and not just a petty thief, his crimes are an open secret.

Yeah, I don’t think so either.

Barack Obama was ready to send his daughter to intern for Weinstein this year. Are we to believe that the Secret Service conducted no vetting prior? This is the daughter of a president.

But that, of course, is the problem. These girls that Weinstein abused were not presidents daughters. They were just girls who wanted to be famous. So, Barack, Hillary, Bill, Michelle. In my view, you all took money from Weinstein. You all had access to the most powerful information gathering network on the planet.

But, you knew nothing, of course. Sickening. Saddened. Someone else’s problem. Someone else’s daughter.

Good luck, FBI.

Maybe it is a vain hope that the FBI is going to do a serious job on Hollyweird.I don’t see how just picking at the threads of this case and applying some rudimentary common sense can result in anything but the utter destruction of the industry as we know it.

But, of course, money talks and bullshit walks. With so much filthy lucre paving the streets, Hollywood elites will remain so.

Plausible deniability, omerta, I never knew, it was a rumor and I hoped it was wrong, by the way, I’m a feminist, #TheResistance.

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The liberal elite is utterly hypocritical. We’re all hypocrites. It is human nature to be hypocritical. What makes us feel sick though, is when hypocrites monetize their hypocrisy. From an ivory tower, we are told about how bigoted we are for not being progressives. The cloistered demi-gods spit on you for being working class and voting in your own interests. Donald Trump is a sex criminal, they cry. No evidence is ever provided, but you are a bad person for supporting him.

Meanwhile, behind closed doors, they know. They all know about Harvey.

The hand-wringing will be long and drawn out, as Hollywood and CNN examine all of us for their crimes. It must be toxic masculinity, or whiteness, or some such. The Oscars will dedicate 2018 to female directors and producers, ideally, Womyn-of-Color and the fireworks will be bright.

Ben and Matt and Leo and Brad will be there, and they will applaud. So will Hillary and Bill and Barack and Michelle. And here we are, the plebians, told that we are morally inferior. Ethically compromised. The deplorables.

We should always remember that those who make character judgments about their opponents based on nothing are usually guilty of that flaw themselves. The liberal elite has accused Donald Trump of being the worst kind of sex offender for over a year. Now we see that the snake pit is not at Trump Tower at all. It never was. The whole charade played out on sound stages on the Miramax Studio lot.

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[kutee-boutique-fan-blog]

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If you had any real intention of helping anyone but yourselves you wouldn’t be on your knee you would be on your knees praying or on your feet doing. Will some-one please define for me the meaning of “social justice”. Ask any of the people kneeling. The Nightmare Before Christmas Halloween Is Coming Sweatshirt athletes who are overpaid and do nothing but whine. Serve in the military and earn your keep.

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From a group of immoral reprobates that rape and beat women and violent criminals, not to mention jerry’s hookers, he hires any filthy animal.  I don’t get why people don’t get that you’re not supposed to like a protest, that’s what makes it a protest. What are they supposed to do to protest?

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Hand out ice cream cones? I love our flag but i really love our constitution and the bravery it took to endow us with such freedoms. Anyone who thinks this is about disrespecting the flag obviously suffers from white privilege. There is no doubt that we have an unacceptable problem with the police state in our nation today.

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I begg you i watched this movie in theatre , next time please review on movie when it running theatre, hope you find some, all the best for new movie with kaali. It tells the kind off life people who like cricket wants to be , even though very less people end doing the same .

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A total naturality we never see in any language… A movie without story, still it engaged with beautiful characters and lovely screenplay. You can use chickpea flour and flax seed – no matter what you use squeeze the zucchini of as much water as you can. I make them without egg using chia and/or ground flax seeds and sweet pepper, pumpkin, whatever is fresh, just grate it like the zukes.

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Also, i use blue corn meal instead of The Nightmare Before Christmas Halloween Is Coming Sweatshirt. Fried?? And, in what? Oil i suppose…what kind and in what temperature. We mustn’t forget the chemistry involved in subjecting types of oil with heat…some of them change to non-food status when subjected to high heat.  I was blessed with the sweetest most thoughtful and generous mother in love. She did something right because i’m still married to her boy after almost 40 years!

[ybredybred-blog]

Interac e-Transfer Crash - Hack, Denial, Coverup, Crime - and Canadian P...

------------------------------------------------- Interac e-Transfer Crash, Hack, Cover-up, Crime -------------------------------------------------

for further damaging evidence regarding the Interac e-Transfer hack, scandal, controversy, crime, cover-up, negligence, greed, stupidity, arrogance, disrespect, self-regulation, monopoly, resignations, criminal trials - and so much more - please read the exhillerating and shocking details regarding not one - but two, completely different, yet related scandals.

both the sitting Finance Minister of Canada, Bill Morneau - as well as a former Finance Minister, Ralph Goodale, will be forced to resign. When this story finally breaks in the MSM (mainstream media) - many people will be called out.

unfortunately - these resignations may come with significant unintended consequences. it could fatally damage a good man, and badly needed advocate for the medical cannabis community - the ever popular (and always taking selfies the world over) Prime Minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau.

oops - i mean Elliott's brilliant son Justin. The charismatic and compassionate humanist - who believes in greath ideas such as science, the respect of women, and respect for legal decisions involving child kidnap, torture, and who knows what else? The poor child was held uncharged in an illegal american gulag for a decade. how did Canada let this happen? how are we letting the paranoid party tear the nation apart for cheap political gains.

Since the paranoid party has damaged our once valuable and internationally coveted reputation as the best country in which to live on earth - by letting loose their blonde bimbo chimpanzee spokeswoman on Russian TV (Fox News) - they deserve to pay the political consequences at the polls.

As the spokeschimp for Canada down south, Canadians would prefer that Michelle Remple stay in the land of illegal child torturers, invaders, morons, and kidnappers.

Plump Trump is likely right up Michelle's alley. Please help prevent the paranoid party of Canada from tearing apart this great nation - simply because Omar, the kid, did what any tough Canadian would have done when viciously and relentlessly bombed while on vacation - kick f*cking ass - and fight back.

Omar fought back like a Canadian. He won - which is an important objective of most participants. Nobody sues when invaders die in war. It's cowardly - I say. Too bad, so sad, suck it up buttercups.

Torture karma is a bitch. Right treasonous, Mr. Pleasant - the infamously retired -  Hilarious Steven Harper?

that's correct. the video you are about to watch will introduce you to not one but (TWO) - entirely different yet related - Interac e-Transfer hacking, cover-up, and crime scandal stories - all for the single low price of free. you heard correctly - two blog posts. two sets of crimes. two cover-ups. too many criminals to count. too many f*cking tos and toos to keep straight. you get it, right?

I'm out.

------------------------------------------------------- ybredybred's related blog and vlog posts --------------------------------------------------------

please consider checking out my blog articles related to the current video: Interac e-Transfer Hacking Scandal:

http://bit.ly/e-Transfer_Coverup http://bit.ly/Interac_scandal_2

after that - you should leave that "legacy of riches" to your children's children's children. The legacy you've always known was going to happen some way, some day, somehow. i simply request that you watch a series of step by step videos that can easily be understood by the average person (unless of course you are a stock broker).

just watch some tv - comfortably from your bed late at night. No pressure. Not a single number gets crunhed in the entire video series. Every single concept is presented in an easy to understand manner. Not bullshit. No sales. Just good, honest, Canadian brains and logic (like the great Donald S. Cherry).

listen carefully to the concepts introduced in the videos. if you agree (with me) that I'm just a complete headcase - in no way deserving of your time - just ignore me and forget you ever came across this academy award winning soon to be Twitter Shareholder Billionaire Activist blogger and vlogger from Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada - THE BEST CITY, PROVINCE, AND COUNTRY ON PLANET EARTH.

Alternatively, you could follow a series of easy to understand vlog posts - that you can read from the comfort of your own bed at 2:00 a.m. - when the kids are asleep (but you can't sleep). I personally guarantee to every Canadian who listens to the complete series on Twitter Undervaluation - there is a high chance that will become a millionaire before the rest of the world catches on.

So confident that, like me, you won't even bother to check the short term fluctuations in stock price. It doesn't matter. Twitter, TWTR, will be the first Trillion Dollar company, first driven into the ground by its billionaire and now selfish founder - Dumb Jack Dorsey - and then resurrected by the entire country of Canada who understood the vision before everyone else - bought into Twitter while it was dirt cheap - the replaced the board of directors and Dumb Jack Dorsey.

Sound like a cool plan? Well - a $16 stock for a $1600 value - it ain't too bad in my millionaire opinion. Watch the videos. Buy the stock. Get filthy rich. Make Canada proud. And, most of all - be kind - and give to the homeless - not to the rich charities that spend it on their white collar employees. The folks who have it the worst - yet receive the worst treatment imaginable - all day every day. Sure they might get stoned with the pittance you begrudgingly gave - solely because of your kindhearted, liberal, wife.

Get rich now - and make Canada a proud nation again. Start with the first simple video - and pace yourselves. Nothing in the vlog will ever be more complex than the average, commonsense Canadian can't understand. Good luck, and good riches - yours, ybredybred the unsual blogger/vlogger about Twitter and life.

Video #1: http://bit.ly/Monopoly_Vision

Upon completion of the free Twitter Investing series of videos - other Canadian visionaires will be capable of achieving the following (money-back guaranteed) for you and the ones you love:

o financial independence beyond your wildest dreams o philanthropy beyond your wildest dreams (all to the homeless) o peace, happiness, and pride - for being one of the millions of Canadians, who (like Bre-X), got filthy rich before the rest of the world knew what was going on.

Except: Twitter will soon make a Trillion dollars - for all and more of the reasons discussed in this free, Twitter Shareholder Activist, video series.

Start with the first video in the "Canadian's Guide to Earning Billions through Twitter Stock Ownership - and take it from there. You know what they say in in the twelve-step groups (ok, I know I'm supposed to keep things anonymous) "it works if you work it - so keep coming back". Let's get rich Canada.

You can thank me later - or just update me on your stock purchases of TWTR in the comments section

I'm out - for real this time.

[politicalfilth-blog]

Who Is Jeffrey Epstein?

We Are Change

Hi everybody Jason Burmas here, reporting for WeAreChange.org. Today I am taking an in-depth look at someone that has largely been shrouded in mystery over the last decade. This person is Jeffrey Epstein, and he is the man that is behind the so called Lolita Express. Lolita Express is the name given to his place in the Virgin Islands where he was trafficking young girls. We will be investigating his actions and crimes and look into why he got off so easily.

There’s really not a lot known about this guy, so I wanted to do my own little investigation into where he came from and how he got his money. He is rumored to be worth billions, so who is Jeffrey Epstein and how did he get his start? How did he get such a sweetheart deal from both state prosecutors and federal prosecutors alike?

When I began to look into Epstein, I was surprised to find out that there is a nonfiction novel written about him, it’s titled “Filthy Rich.”

What I found most fascinating is that the author of the book James Patterson is a prolific best selling fiction author. Patterson novels are everywhere; he lived in the same Palm Beach neighborhood as Mr. Epstein. He chose to investigate the rumors that he’d followed in the local media. He got another author to help and an investigative journalist to help write this nonfiction novel.

This was great source material for me; I couldn’t believe what I was reading as it is the most in-depth expose on Epstein. I found it very odd that this book only gets two or three stars reviews. Usually, this author gets four and five-star reviews. It seems like people may not want you to read this book and with good reason. It goes in depth into Epstein and who he was before this scandal hit.

I am going to go over some of the details that the book reveals. Epstein doesn’t seem to have earned any university degrees. This despite attending the Cooper Union and then New York University where he studied mathematics and physiology; he seems to be more of a social climber.

No one seems to know how he ended up teaching at a wealthy prep school called Dalton. This is where he starts to make big connections, one of whom is Ace Greenberg who gets him a job at Bear Stearns.

He spends some time at Bear Stearns and leaves during a Securities and Exchange Commission investigation during the early 1980’s.

Epstein seems to transition himself, and in the book, they focus on one major deal where he was able to recover invested money for a rather prominent aristocrat out in Spain. Epstein somehow gets that money back, and suddenly he has a portion of it. This seems to be where Epstein finds his calling. Also alluded in the novel is how he begins helping the rich hide their money in tax havens. All we know for sure is that Epstein appears to have made a lot of money.

Epstein seems to have been with a number of women of age who are very loyal and protective of him. It seems that he can talk to people and build relationships with them. The women he is with say he was nothing but a gentleman.

However, this is before the allegations that take place in the early 2000’s. There is a section in the book where they discuss how Epstein would rarely talk about what he did for a living. He did mention that he worked with governments, now this was often brushed off and may have been a fabrication since he lied about many things.

We do know that he had a close relationship with Bill Clinton. His flight records according to Fox News had Clinton on Epstein’s jet at least 26 times by the FAA’s logs alone. That is a lot, and it’s probably much higher than that. Eric Prince, the founder of Blackwater, has stated that Hillary Clinton herself has been to Pedophile Island several times and had her own relationship with Epstein.

Audio Clip of Eric Prince with Breitbart: “Including the fact that Hillary went through this sex Island of convicted pedophile Jeffrey Epstein, Bill Clinton went there more than 20 times, Hillary at least six times. The amount of garbage that they found in emails of criminal activity by Hillary, by her immediate circle, and even by other Democratic members of Congress was so disgusting they gave it to the FBI and they said we are going to go public with this if you don’t reopen the investigation, if you don’t do the right thing with timely indictments.”

So is it that far off to believe that Epstein may have had some government connections. Let us discuss the actual crimes that took place and the ongoing aftermath and where things stand today.

Epstein was accused of having young girls come to his home and give him erotic massages and more.

Text From Inside Edition Video Clip: “She was the air hostess on board the notorious Lolita Express. The billionaire’s private jet at the center of a sex scandal making lurid headlines across the world. Sleazy Wall Street tycoon Jeffrey Epstein used the Lolita Express to ferry a bevy of beautiful young women, among the passengers former President Bill Clinton and Britain’s Prince Andrew.”

In this book, there are actual police interrogations revealed of some of these young girls that were both molested by Epstein and then taught how to groom and procure other young girls. The allegations have these girls as young as 12. The book gives prominence to one girl who is 14 years old, and another who is currently suing Epstein stated she was doing this at 16 and 17 years old. I won’t go into the sordid details, but they’re out there. The amount of evidence gathered, and individuals that came forward was overwhelming with dozens of people on the record.

Text From Video Clip: “After years of silence, she’s talking about the day she says Jeffrey Epstein paid her for a sensual massage. Jane says she was a sophomore in high school just 15 or 16 years old when someone at her school told her how she could make some quick cash. “We go to this guy’s house for $200 and give him you know a massage for $200. Basically, it’s an in-and-out thing, it’s a massage you know nothing bad about it.”

Jane says she and a girl her age took a taxi to Epstein’s house on Palm Beach. Jane said an assistant paid the driver and took them into an upstairs room that had a massage table and a shower. That’s when Jane says Epstein walked in completely naked, “he jumped in the shower and told me to remove my clothes down to my bra and panties. We both were looking at each other like what are we going to do now.”

When all these things being to be revealed Epstein himself starts to send investigators after his alleged victims, and those in law enforcement that are investigating him. He pleads guilty to one act of soliciting a prostitute and one act of soliciting an underage prostitute, so he is, in fact, a sex offender. Epstein ends up getting this unbelievable sweetheart deal where he serves 18 months, but is only in jail for 12 of those months and is on work release, so he’s spending many of his days in his office.

Many people were appalled that he was able to get this deal. In the last few weeks the FBI, after ten years has broken their silence, on why Epstein got such a deal. They claimed that they didn’t think the witnesses would hold up in court. It should be noted that the FBI has pulled some very shady dealings especially in other cases involving high-profile alleged sex abuse of children, mainly the Franklin scandal.

You will see a lot of corruption within the FBI when you read the books by both John DeCamp and Nick Bryant. I’ll let you guys read that information and depositions for yourselves.

I may actually be a bit more sympathetic to the FBI since many of the girl’s families had no idea that they were involved in this and many likely did not want the sordid details coming out in court. Many of them also had priors, that would have all come out during a jury trial. The big surprise is that during this ‘non-prosecution,’ there was a deal made where thirty of his victims were going to get compensation. The FBI probably thought that since Epstein had already settled many lawsuits, that at least the victims would eventually get some kind of financial compensation. They would not have to go through civil court, and they may have felt that it was the best overall win.

I think the truth probably lies somewhere in between; the bottom line is that compensation never happened. As soon as he got out his lawyers Alan Dershowitz and Kenneth Starr, stated that they were not going to pay the victims. There is a civil trial brought against Jeffrey Epstein that begins in August. Whose names are going to be on the case and how far is this going to go. We already know about the Clintons and British Royalty including Prince Andrew. There’s likely going to be additional names mentioned. One of the young women was trying to get Donald Trump as a character witness, but they think they can win the case without him.

This is definitely something that we need to keep an eye on, after all, Jeffrey Epstein is still out there. He still owns all these properties, he is not in jail, he’s walking around with beautiful young women today and he still worth a fortune.

As always folks, if you like this video and article, please share it on social media. Remember to check out wearechange.org; it’s only through your financial support that reports like this one are possible. Thank you very much.

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The post Who Is Jeffrey Epstein? appeared first on We Are Change.

from We Are Change https://wearechange.org/who-is-jeffrey-epstein-convicted-pedophile-child-trafficker-lolita-pedophilia/