#local man runs to casino

[quiddling]

woof

[pucksandpower]

So Good to Me

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc is the perfect man for you … getting stopped on the street for a random TikTok challenge just serves to prove that even further

The warm Monaco sun beats down on you as you stroll leisurely along the bustling sidewalk, a canvas tote bag filled with fresh produce and flowers from the local farmer’s market hanging from your shoulder. The salty sea breeze wafts across your face, carrying with it the excited chatter and laughter of tourists admiring the luxurious yachts bobbing in Port Hercules.

You smile to yourself, relishing this perfect Mediterranean afternoon. Just a quick stop at home to drop off your purchases, and then maybe you’ll take a dip in the infinity pool on the terrace to cool off before Charles is done with-

“Excusez-moi, mademoiselle!” A young man’s voice breaks through your daydreaming. You glance over to see a twenty-something guy with a neatly trimmed beard, expensive-looking sunglasses, and a black t-shirt emblazoned with HUSTLE in white block letters. He’s holding a mini microphone and has his iPhone pointed at you, clearly filming.

A TikToker.

You sigh internally but force a polite smile.

“Oui, puis-je vous aider?” You reply in French.

“Ah sorry, I don’t speak much French! Do you speak English?” The TikToker asks eagerly in a British accent.

“Yes, I do. Can I help you with something?” You say, switching to English yourself. You just want to get home but you know these influencer types can be annoyingly persistent.

The TikToker grins. “Brilliant! I’m doing a social experiment for my followers. I was wondering — do you have a significant other? A boyfriend or husband perhaps?”

You raise an eyebrow questioningly but decide to humor him. “Um, yes, I have a boyfriend,” you answer simply.

His eyes light up. “Fantastic! And would you say your boyfriend loves you very much?”

You can’t help but chuckle at the boldness of this stranger’s line of questioning. “Yes, I would definitely say that. He loves me a lot,” you confirm, a soft smile playing on your lips as you think of Charles.

“Perfect! Okay, here’s the challenge,” the TikToker announces dramatically, staring intensely into his camera. “I want you to call up your boyfriend right now and ask him to send you some money. Doesn’t matter how much. But for every €100 he sends, I’ll give you €20 to keep for yourself. Let’s see how much he really loves you, shall we?”

You stare at this guy incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. Is he serious? He clearly has no idea who your boyfriend is. An amused smirk spreads across your face as you fish your iPhone out of your designer purse.

“Alright, you’re on,” you say confidently, already unlocking your phone and tapping on Charles’ contact. The TikToker looks surprised but excited that you actually agreed to his silly challenge.

“Put it on speaker phone,” he instructs, zooming his camera in on your phone screen which is now dialing Charles.

After a few rings, the warm, honey-smooth voice you adore comes through. “Allô mon amour, what’s up?” Charles greets you sweetly. “I’m just finishing up some simulator runs but I should be done soon to help with dinner.”

“Hey baby,” you reply, your voice automatically softening. “Sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy. But I’m out right now and I just passed by that little boutique near the casino, you know the one? And I saw the most incredible pair of shoes in the window. I swear they were calling my name.”

Charles laughs affectionately, the sound like music to your ears even through the cell phone speaker. “Oh yeah? The ones that were calling your name last week turned out to be, what was it, €900?” He teases.

You roll your eyes playfully even though he can’t see. “Okay, fair, but you know I hardly ever splurge on myself. I’m usually so frugal!”

“Mmhmm, whatever you need to tell yourself, chérie,” Charles says wryly and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Let me guess, you need to go get these dream shoes right now? Or else they’ll haunt you forever?”

“You know me so well,” you gush dramatically. “I promise I’ll pay you back though! I get paid next week and-”

“Hey, hey, stop,” Charles cuts you off gently. “Mon cœur, you never have to pay me back, you know that. I love being able to treat you and spoil you. You deserve the world. Never forget that.”

You feel yourself melt at his earnest words, momentarily forgetting you have an audience. “I love you so much,” you murmur. “Thank you for always being so good to me.”

“Right back at you, ma belle. Je t’aime,” Charles says tenderly. “There, check your banking app. Let me know if you need any more. And have fun shopping! I’ll see you at home in a bit, okay? À bientôt!”

You glance down at your phone as a notification from your bank pops up on the screen. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the amount Charles sent over, but you recover quickly.

“Thank you, baby. See you soon!” You reply before hanging up. You turn back to the TikToker who is gaping at you in disbelief. Casually, you turn your phone screen towards him and his camera so he can clearly see the notification that €10,000 has just been deposited into your account.

The poor guy looks like he’s about to pass out from shock. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, rendered speechless. You just laugh good-naturedly.

“Well, guess I won your little challenge, huh?” You remark, slipping your phone back into your purse. “Tell you what, why don’t you donate whatever money you were going to give me to a local animal shelter instead? I think it’ll be put to much better use there.”

The TikToker finally manages to pick his jaw up off the floor. He laughs shakily and nods. “Yeah ... yeah I can do that. Wow. Um, thanks for being such a good sport about this. And congrats on, uh, winning, I guess?”

You give him a friendly wink. “Anytime. Have a nice rest of your day!” With that, you turn gracefully on your heel and continue on your way back home, feeling rather smug and deeply appreciative of your wonderfully generous boyfriend.

“Wait!” The TikToker calls out after you. You glance back over your shoulder curiously. He hesitates before asking in an awed voice, “If you don’t mind me asking ... who the hell is your boyfriend?”

An enigmatic smile plays on your lips. “No one special really,” you reply breezily. “Just a guy who loves driving fast cars.”

You leave the gaping TikToker in your wake as you saunter off, already daydreaming about showing your appreciation to Charles later for being the most incredible boyfriend imaginable.

Maybe you really will splurge on those designer shoes after all … and pick up a little something special from the lingerie boutique next door while you’re at it.

Your smile widens. Just as a little thank you to your man, of course. Life is good when you’re in love with Charles Leclerc.

[yvvxs]

Quality Time...

↪ ft. argenti. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dan heng & imbibitor lunae. dr ratio. gallagher. gepard. jing yuan. luka. luocha. sampo. sunday. welt.

Cleaning Argenti's ship with him, getting the dust out of the finer details alongside him. It would be a hassle usually, but it was much better when he was with you. You who were like an Emanator of Beauty to him, he could never get sick of you, or your presence.

Sitting beside Aventurine in the casino as he wins his 54th game of Blackjack that night. His arm wrapped around your waist, smiling and having fun together as you watch the endless riches flow into his bank account.

Going on a late night stroll with Blade. The city was busy and bustling, but that wasn't going to bother either of you. Just the two of you, no script to follow. No guards to seize him, he's in disguise anyways. No one will notice him through his... Sunglasses and mask. It'll work.. Neither are his companions or mara there to annoy him. Not now, as you enjoy each others' presence.

Running through the ships of the IPC with Boothill. The men shooting at the both of you. He has your back, so he won't let you get injured by some bullets. He even has time to taunt them with some famous dance moves as the two of you evade their attacks.

Digging through trash cans together with Caelus. He could care less about the crowds of people watching this. He was enjoying it, giving you little small trinkets he thinks you'd like. A toy that someone threw away, a bouquet from a rejected man.. A golden trash bag? Well, it's the thought that counts, right? It was cute just watching him dig through the bins to find something for you.

Staying up and updating the data bank with Dan Heng. The faint sound of machinery and typing the only sounds in the room. Other than the sound of pen on paper from when he writes something down. Alternatively, laying beside Imbibitor Lunae in his supposed bed. But it was so much comfier, especially when you were wrapped in the arms, and tail, of your boyfriend.

Reading a book with Dr. Ratio at the local library. A small treat for the both of you as he had just finished his lecture. Refreshing his own mind with both the intelligent writings, and your presence. At least he didn't have to deal with any idiots at the moment.

Learning to brew up some nice drinks with Gallagher. He shares his favorite brew with you, and you share your own concoction with him. Clinking your glasses together in a toast, drinking one anothers' mix of flavors.

Adopting some new plants with Gepard. Trying to get a nice flower to take care of together. Placing it in a nice flowerbed with some ferilizer, and watering them thoroughly. You'll have to teach him some tips and tricks to gardening. Or maybe you're learning alongside him too. Either way, it'll be fun taking care of a little plant baby together, don't you think?

Napping with General Jing Yuan at work. Sneakily giving him an excuse to slack off for a bit. They wouldn't dare disturb your slumber, would they? How cruel of them if they tried. Inhaling your scent as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. Drifting further into sleep in the comfort of your arms.

Watching Luka as he trains for his next match at the Fight Club. A moment just for the two of you to spend together. You motivating him to keep going and get stronger. To win even more battles. He couldn't do it without you.

Walking around the different stalls the Luofu offered with Luocha. Buying a few things from some merchants just for you. Away from any prying eyes, in a world made for just the two of you.

Carrying a few supplies for Natasha's clinic with Sampo. Being able to help the Underworld with him being an enjoyable task. Especially with him, who wouldn't be entertained by his presence? You knew you definitely were.

Having afternoon tea with Sunday. Away from the responsibilities of being the head of the Oak Family. Just a small quiet moment between the you and the halovian. Some sugar cookies going along with the drinks. He can't help but feel much better with you.

Sitting in the Astral Express carriage with Welt. Watching the stars fly by, the meteors go past the windows. Maybe looking up at the light shaped like a whale, reaching out for it while you lay your head on his lap. It was nice spending mundane moments with him, alongside the more fun and action-filed ones.

↪ I think having some quality time with them is nice :)

Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.

[luffington]

hihi, how are u⁉️ may i request jealous crocodile and/or doflamingo smut? i am OBSESSED w ur fur & feathers story, you’re an amazing writer!! thank you sm 🙏🫶💓‼️

➤ pairing: sir crocodile x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.6k

➤ warnings: dom!crocodile, possessive behavior, spanking, degradation, praise, belly bulge, overstimulation, mentioned breeding kink, established relationship, fem reader

aww i'm glad you like it! i decided to give crocodile some love since i already have a few fics about doffy :3 i had really bad horny brainrot writing this he drives me insane

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Deciding not to join Baroque Works was your own choice, but you shouldn’t be suffering for it.

The crime syndicate’s leader and you had been in a relationship for quite a while. You’d long since accepted his dedication to his job and his workaholic tendencies – a serious job required someone just as serious. But recently, it had gotten to be too much. 

He spent sixteen hours a day holed up in his office, pouring over documents and answering calls and meeting with Miss All Sunday. Grunted quiet greetings when he came home at night, climbing into bed beside you then falling asleep immediately. He’d barely said three words to you all week. 

You were jealous of the fucking Transponder Snail for how much attention it got. It was time to take matters into your own hands.

So you put on your sluttiest dress, a nice pair of heels, and flashy diamond earrings, then wandered around the massive Rain Dinners casino looking for easy prey. You settled on a drunk average-looking man with a winning streak at roulette. He openly ogled your body as you approached, and smirked lecherously when you asked if the empty seat on his left was taken. 

The man clearly wasn’t a local. He didn’t recognize you, even though you weren’t shy about hanging onto Crocodile’s arm in public. And he was much too stupid to notice the casino staff’s constant nervous glances. While laughing and holding your drink, you brushed a flirty hand over his shoulder and pressed your body against him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Crocodile emerge from the staff-only hallway to survey the room. Everything about him commanded attention – his abnormal height, his expensive clothes, his intimidating presence. In a flash, he materialized behind you. Half of his body was still reforming from a whirling sandstorm. Menacing golden eyes shone down at you, but his expression was eerily blank. 

The entire casino fell silent. Everyone’s focus was on you.

Crocodile exhaled a pungent cloud of cigar smoke. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Bullshit. He’d hardly looked at you at all for nearly two weeks. Ignoring the shivers running down your spine, you decided to continue taunting him.

“I’m watching my good friend here play roulette! He’s very lucky, he might take all your money home with him.” You didn’t even remember the man’s name, but you lied with a cheeky grin and firmly patted his thigh twice.

Much too friendly for Crocodile’s liking.

Your lover’s eyes narrowed in on the empty martini glass in front of you. “How many of those have you had?”

“I dunno, three? Four?” You turned to the stranger with a saccharine smile. “Were you keeping count?”

The man was frozen in place, terrified into silence at the sight of the eight foot tall Warlord towering above him. His all-consuming fear made him seem like a small animal staring into a Bananawani’s open jaws.

“You’re drunk. You should sit down.” Crocodile’s tone was steady but dangerous. Always aware of his public image, his carefully chosen words made him seem like the perfect gentleman. 

“But I am sit–“ 

A murderous glare cut you off mid-sentence. You realized you’d taken your bratty act as far as it could go – any more might be threatening to your well-being. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you rose from your seat and automatically moved to his side. Tucked yourself into the folds of his coat, choosing to look down at your heels rather than his face.

“Make yourself comfortable in my office, darling.” The Warlord patted your shoulder, causing you to flinch. His voice dropped an octave as he growled, “I’d like to speak to this lucky gentleman in private.” 

Crocodile’s pristine office was unnervingly quiet. You took a seat on the plush couch facing his desk, nervously bouncing your legs and trying to calm your racing heartbeat. With the lights off, the room was only illuminated by the water surrounding it. Dark shadows of swimming Bananawani regularly moved across the walls. Silly little prey, willingly walking into their nest.

The door suddenly slammed shut behind you. Heavy footsteps slowly approached but you didn’t dare turn around. Rich cologne flooded your nostrils and his golden hook flashed in your peripheral vision. 

Your lover stayed quiet, patiently biding his time until the silence finally got to you. Timidly, you asked, “What happened to that man?”

“What man?” Your lover cocked his head to the side, feigning ignorance. After a moment, a sadistic chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Oh, you mean the mummy in the back room. Let’s say he mysteriously disappeared.”

You whipped your head around with wide eyes. “You killed him for me?” 

Oddly, you didn’t feel bad about it – that man was a creep. Getting rid of him was probably a blessing for the women of Alabasta.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you, dear.” He sounded sincere, but then leaned down and fiercely whispered, “Except play this stupid game of yours. I like showing you off, not sharing you.”

Soft breath tickled your cheek and the fur lining of his coat brushed against your skin. You felt a fire ignite in your core – he was irresistibly sexy when he became possessive (well, more possessive than usual). 

“Have I done something to upset you?” Crocodile kissed and licked down the column of your neck. “Or were you taunting me for fun?”

“Y-You’ve been so busy lately, I was–” The word ‘lonely’ died on your lips when he sunk his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“Oh, my poor dear. Are you feeling neglected?” He cooed when you shyly nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to the bite mark. “I’m very sorry. Work’s been out of control recently, but everything will settle down soon. You have my attention now.”

The tip of his hook slid under your dress’s thin shoulder strap, then cleanly tore through it. He repeated the action on the other side until the torn fabric slipped down to reveal your bare breasts. 

“Not even wearing a bra?” Your lover clicked his tongue, roughly cupping and caressing your right boob then smacking the soft flesh. “If that man looked down your dress, then his death sentence was too lenient. I should’ve tortured him.”

“You’re so scary,” you giggled, letting your head fall back against his sturdy chest with a content sigh. Grainy fingers traced your areola then rubbed over your hardened nipples. Thankfully, you knew you’d never experience the true extent of his wrath – he adored you.

Without warning, he wrapped his cold hook around your throat. The proximity of its sharp edge to such a dangerous area made your hair stand on end. 

“Bend over my desk,” he commanded, gently nipping your ear. “Darling.”

You stumbled over to the enormous desk, legs shaking from anticipation and arousal. Bracing your arms on the polished wood, you arched your back and presented your ass to him. The Warlord took a moment to admire the view, amused by your visible impatience.

“I bought you these,” Crocodile drawled, tracing the waistband of your silky panties with the curved back of his hook. You never saw their price tag, but they felt expensive. He poked your earlobe. “I bought you those earrings, too. They cost more berry than that pathetic man could ever make. Everything about you belongs to me – seems like I have to remind you.”

A large hand came down on your ass hard, jiggling the soft flesh and making you cry out in delight. The collection of rings on his fingers added a delicious extra sting. Three more spanks followed rapidly in the same spot, then four on the other cheek until every part of your ass ached.

Crocodile snickered when you rubbed your thighs together like an animal in heat. A wet spot had already dampened your panties. “Silly little slut. If you wanted to be spanked, you should’ve just asked. No need for all the theatrics.”

“Didn’t have a chance to since you were talking to that Snail all fucking day.” Your petulant mumble quickly turned into a yelp when his hand brutally struck the crease of your thighs. Making sure you’d feel the sting every time you sat down. He grabbed the roots of your hair and yanked your head back. 

“Watch your tone,” Crocodile growled. The Warlord released you, catching you before your limp body hit the desk and easily flipped you onto your back. A wicked smirk almost as wide as his scar spread across his face. He hungrily observed your body like a predator about to pounce. 

He pulled down your panties with an unnerving carefulness – he didn’t want to damage his property, after all. Then he roughly spanked your bare pussy. Your surprised cry of pain echoed throughout the empty room. Satisfied with your reaction, he did it again and again until your folds turned puffy. 

Crocodile spread your cunt using the back of his hook so he could land a direct hit on your sensitive clit. The impact on your bundle of nerves sent electric shocks throughout your body, your back arching painfully off the table. Your lover chuckled and swiped two fingers through your drenched folds. 

“Who else can make you this wet?” Crocodile webbed your juices between his fingers before bringing them to your lips. Obediently opening your mouth, you suckled and swirled your tongue around them. Paying extra attention to his rings, making sure the precious jewels shined with your spit. Though it was a rhetorical question, he pulled his fingers out to hear your response. 

“No one.” You answered honestly, your eyes dilated with lust and chest heaving. “Just you.”

“You’re damn right.” Crocodile unlatched his belt, letting his trousers hit the floor with a metallic clang. His enormous dick smacked against his pelvis, rock hard and leaking pearly precum. You unconsciously licked your lips at the sight. “Can’t let another cock can satisfy you, either. I need to ruin you for anyone else.”

Demanding you to look directly at him, he lined up his tip with your hole and thrust his hips forward. Slowly at first – his massive cock often met resistance in your tiny cunt – but after the first few inches, he slammed the entire length inside. Knocking all the air out of your lungs, your head lolling back on the desk. Crocodile stayed like that, appreciating the pretty bulge in your belly. 

“Crocodile, please…” 

“My name sounds perfect on your lips.” That predatory gaze was back, the need to possess you overwhelming his thoughts. Your lover pulled back until only the tip remained in your dripping pussy, then harshly rammed his dick in all the way. 

Quickly setting a rough pace, Crocodile palmed at your tits with rough hands then leaned into the crook of your neck, whispering a dizzying mix of praise and degrading phrases. All of your coherent thoughts vanished from your brain. 

You clutched onto his coat to ground yourself, to not get lost in the sea of pleasure washing over you. His cock was too fucking big. Too fucking good. It bullied its way inside your wet walls, permanently reshaping them to the perfect fit as he called you his pretty little cocksleeve.

Over a week’s worth of pent-up sexual urges were quickly coming to a head. Crocodile knew your body so well that he immediately recognized the signs of your impending orgasm. He reached his hand between your bodies to rub circles on your clit, pinching and pulling the sensitive nub for good measure.

“H-Holy fuck, ahhh, shit, I’m gonna…” 

The Warlord smirked cruelly and paused his movements with his cock halfway inside you. “Apologize for being a brat. For even looking at that worthless man.”

If you had a stronger resolve, you could’ve kept this game going even longer. Asked him to apologize for ignoring you. Maybe even gotten a few more spanks out of it. But you needed to cum, and you desperately needed his giant cock to move. 

“I’m sorry,” you panted desperately. “I won’t be bratty anymore, I promise. You’re the only man I’ll ever want. I’ll do anything, just – please, please, let me cum.”

“Very good girl.” Crocodile rewarded you by sensually rolling his hips to stir your insides around. Snickering, he admitted, “Although, I do enjoy when you act up every once in a while. You’re especially sexy when you submit to me.”

Your lover resumed fucking you hard enough to make the desk creak. Legs shaking with every thrust, your eyes were unfocused and the only thought in your head was how full you felt. Looking down, you dreamily watched the bump in your stomach move up and down as his dick rearranged your guts.

“Scream my name loud enough for the entire casino to hear when you cum. Let them know who owns you.”

Just one scream wasn’t enough for you – you chanted his name like a prayer as your orgasm hit you in full force. Juices gushed around Crocodile’s cock and dripped down his balls. He lazily fondled your clit to help you through it, only pulling away once the aftershocks had subsided. You lay limply on the desk, face flushed and chest heaving. 

Belatedly, you realized that Crocodile hadn’t budged. A concerning sign.

“You… you didn’t cum?”

“This soon? Of course not. I didn’t commit murder for one measly orgasm,” he chuckled. “Evidently, I have a lot of lost time to make up for. Your cunt better be prepared.”

“W-wait, give me a minute –”

“No, dear, you were right. I spent too much time ignoring you. You deserve all my love.” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that knocked his mushroom tip against your cervix. “And affection.” Another thrust. “And every inch of my cock.”

Filthy squelching sounds and your lover’s balls slapping against your ass accompanied your overwhelmed scream. Tears pricked at your eyes as he increased his pace, your brain becoming as mushy as your cunt. 

“Such a perfect pussy. Only a real man like me can treat it properly.” Crocodile murmured smugly. Leaning down to press his body flush against yours, his muscular pecs squished against your tits. His normally slicked-back hair was coming undone, strands sticking to his forehead from sweat. Dizzying pleasure washed over you when his fingers found your clit again.

Crocodile felt his balls tighten, but held himself back from the edge by slowing down to a relaxed grind, focusing all of his attention on you. You fucking lost your mind when he spelled each letter of his name on your sensitive bundle of nerves. A second orgasm washed over you in a bright light, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you murmured absolute nonsense mixed with cries of his name. 

Your cunt clamping down on his cock like a vice sent him over the edge. At the very last second, Crocodile pulled out to spurt thick stripes of cum across your stomach. With a deep, satisfied groan, he jerked himself to completion until your skin was painted white. Fully marking you as his own. 

Satisfaction and exhaustion made your eyes flutter shut, but Crocodile ensured you stayed awake by giving you a surprisingly tender forehead kiss. Cradling your cheek, he asked, “Feel better?”

“My ass hurts, but yes. I feel great.” You nodded with a fucked-out grin, chasing his lips for a real kiss which he eagerly granted.

“Good. As pretty as you look covered in my cum, the next load is going inside you. I need to fuck a baby into my beautiful girl.”

His next load? Your eyes widened when he began stroking his cock again, still soft but beginning to twitch with interest. Turning your head, you met the downward-turned eyestalks of his shut-off Transponder Snail. 

[yzashaven]

𝐁𝐄𝐓 !

꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ billionaire!scaramouche x reader

꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw content. reader gambling in a casino. rough sex. creampie. squirting. literally not proofread at all </3

꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ betting dollars upon dollars with a billionaire. surely a good idea! ...right?

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄— i'm gonna need you all to forgive me for being away for a whole month and coming back with a half-assed fic </3 it's been really tiring but i'm doing okay! (for now)... i really do hope that you all enjoy this even though my writing is honestly a bit rusty now that i haven't written a single sentence in the month's long "break" i took. i love you all, thank you so so much for 1.5k !! 🤍 + thoughts on this new layout? :3

he was just another run-of-the-mill billionaire hanging out at casinos, local and private, for the ordinary people and the rich. you just so happen to be a regular at a specific casino and bar called the 'devil's temptation'. you spend a few hours of your day there every week or so, taking home stacks of your winnings home each time you go.

you were quite well known by the other regulars as a money magnet of sorts due to your high win rate whichever game you play, especially poker. your night was going on normally as per usual, well, until a man approached you.

"care for a game or two, pretty lady?"

☆★

"royal flush." yet another easy win on your part. you smiled at the man softly as you layed down your hand. he simply chuckles and looks at you lustfully, "huh, well played, indeed. though, why don't you say we make a... different type of bet this time?" he's being quite vague, you raise an eyebrow at him, "do you mind elaborating?"

a smirk from him as a reply, "accompany me to my mansion for the night, then you'll see." hesitant yet curious, you agreed. but how in hell would you have thought the said bet would end up with you getting fucked by the man named scaramouche?

★☆

"fuck...!" a loud whimper rips through your throat at the way he thrusted in and out of your sensitive cunt, you tried your hardest not to cum. after all, that was your deal, if he came first, he'd give up over a million dollars to you in the form of a cheque. but if you were to cum first, you'd be his, body, heart, and soul.

your upper body had already surrendered to him as your face was buried in a pillow, your torso flat on the fine silk sheets of his bed. your elbows failed in keeping you held up as he fucked you relentlessly—hard, deep, and fast.

"c'me on, don't you wanna cum around my cock, baby?" he insists and brings his hand over to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing at its' softness and using his fingers to tease your nipples. you nod, to answer his question. but of course you didn't, you wanted to win the bet. who would refuse a large amount of money?

...but maybe you'll have another chance at such an offer.

your body couldn't take any more. you bit the soft pillow in front of you to muffle out the lewd moan you mewled out as your body shivered intensely at the euphoric feeling that hit you hard like a truck.

a dark chuckle from behind, "guess you're mine now, yeah?" he whispers before pulling out all the way, only to slam back inside to earn yet another symphony of moans straight from your drooling lips. his own mouth latches onto your neck to kiss, lick, and even bite at the flesh, leaving marks all over from the area of your neck to your shoulder.

his hand trails further down to pinch at your clit, causing you to scream out his name in extreme ecstasy, squirting as you completely dampen the sheets—all the while he began to shoot ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of your pussy, reaching your womb.

not even a minute to calm down from your highs, he was already repositioning the two of you. firm grips from his hands laying you on your back and manhandling you right where he wanted you to be. a delicious mating press. it didn't take long for him to slide back into your warmth.

[2-fast-2-curious]

Lando Being Besties with Your Chinese Grandma

A/N: I never write anymore but IDK something about seeing Lando with Alex's grandma made me think about Lando charming a less problematic version of my own Asian grandma. Also none of this is supposed to be taken seriously.

Somehow you swiftly moved from 'being too young to date' to your grandma asking when you're going to get married every time she sees you

She brings up how proud she is of your female cousins for finding a 'nice boy' and settling down

She offers multiple times to set you up with one of her friend's grandsons who she claims has a good job and a mortgage

When you complain to Lando, this amuses him...a lot

Especially since there's a very simple solution to stop her incessant nagging

Needless to say, she doesn't know about you and Lando

You and Lando are private but not secret

Since your grandma only uses Instagram to look at pictures of her great-grandkids, you didn't think you would risk her looking at F1 Gossip accounts and seeing blurry photos of you and Lando

Lando's met your parents and siblings but you weren't planning on introducing him to your extended family

What you didn't expect was to run into one of your grandmother's friends doing taichi at the park when you and Lando went for a stroll

Word got back to your grandma

She demanded to know who this mysterious man was

Which was how Lando ended up invited to your next family dinner

I'm going to be very honest here, Lando doesn't eat anything at dinner because he has the palette of a five-year-old

But he makes a good impression on your grandma

Also, you two visit the McDonalds Drive-Thru after dinner to get him McNuggets.

One day your grandma calls and complains she can't watch Price is Right on the TV

Since you're working and Lando is bored you send Lando over to provide tech support

Also helps her download games on her iPad and maybe secretly purchases extra Candy Crush lives for her using his credit card

And teaches her how to Facetime her grandkids much to the chagrin of you and your cousins

It isn't long until his charm wins her over

He spends the rest of the day watching Wheel of Fortune and Deal or No Deal with her while she crochets a hat for him

She always has a red envelope to give him

He drives her and her friends to the casino

And the Asian grocery store or your local Chinatown

Powerwashes the side of her house which he claims is just like the video game

Your grandma always makes sure to order him basic stuff at the restaurant that he'll eat like egg fried rice or beef and broccoli or chicken chow mein.

She also snaps at your cousins who try to eat the food she ordered specifically for Lando.

[rcksmith]

Sun and Water - Kaz Brekker

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: A LOT OF ANGUISH. Lots of mention of post-traumatic disorder. Curse words. Mention of death. Blood. Slave market. Mention of murder. VERY EMOTIONAL. VERY SWEET.

Word count: 4k

A/N: This one was very emotional for me. I cried writing with my playlist on full blast. I hope you love it as much as I do.

💕 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

------------

Ketterdam smelled of trickery, poison, desecration and danger. It was a dark place by birth that housed even darker people. Its soil was stained with blood and despair; of both Grisha and ordinary people. Their hiding places were for tormented souls who had long lost their humanity.

If you walked the wrong streets at night with an arrogant attitude, you would definitely not return alive. But if you turned south, and had a little money in your pocket, your feet would take you close to the huge, shiny, flashy casinos run by Pekka Rollins. You would pass clubs where the smell of beer mixed with cheating, and the laughter of drunks drowned out the screams of convicts across the boat harbor. The colors of these establishments ranged between red, orange and yellow, a vibrant explosion that, in such a funereal place, became infinitely more macabre.

If you were more adventurous, and had a little more money, you would pass by pleasure houses. With pink and purple facades, provocative titles and women perched in the windows, waving at any gentleman who smelled a fair amount of kruger, their chants insinuating and seductive. The silk pieces of these places waved like a Land in Sight flag for the lost and tormented men in that sea of stone that was called Ketterdam.

To less experienced - and novice - eyes, those places were just grotesque pieces that were part of a strange scenario. Just a bad city, without many mysteries or secrets. But Kaz Brekker, whose mother's name was Ketterdam, knew that these establishments were more profane than they first appear. Its sins were part of a long list of money laundering, human and arms trafficking, drug exports, a meeting point for commissioned murders and, deep in the corrupt heart of that city, the headquarters of the black market. He knew that Ketterdam was not just a land of trickery, poison, desecration and danger. It was the place where anyone could have absolutely everything for the right price.

And that's how he found you.

Kaz didn't like to remember that day. But it was engraved on his skin like a tattoo, like a hot iron. A damned, cursed reminder that despite his Herculean efforts to be the monster everyone whispered about, Kaz was still a man of flesh and warm blood. With a heart that writhed.

Something about that day in the past wasn't right. It was like a mysterious whisper in the breeze, an omen in the unknown eyes of the wanderers, a mistake in a painting that made his nerves itch. And Kaz Brekker always hated mysteries that he didn't know how to solve.

His cane banging against the thick, crooked stone floor in that even darker part of Ketterdam, the hem of his black coat swinging from side to side in the cold wind. He had 2,000 kruger in his pocket - the Crow Club's only money to pay employees, bribes, drinks and bills. He used and abused Ketterdam to offer everything at the right price, and now he was going to pay his debts to men who provided information, to locals who spiked the beer with water and sold it for a cheaper price, and to women who seduced targets and facilitated robberies. It was the only money he had.

He didn't have to look to the left, there was nothing for him there. He didn't have to wonder why people seemed to crowd closer to the curve of the last street. But, in a way that Brekker could never explain even in confidential whispers to his own soul, he turned that corner.

With his cane tapping on the ground, money in his pocket and responsibilities to fulfill, he approached, against all odds. Step by step, the air grew thicker, the invisible ropes tightened unjustifiably on the pulse of his neck, the ghostly sensation of the icy water approaching like the waves of the dark sea.

Those sensations were getting more confusing with each pump of blood. The physical consequences of his soul being shipwrecked at sea never came lightly, and this was a warning. A warning that Kaz Brekker should have turned around and walked away. While he still could.

The men around were euphoric. The women looked sadistic. And the racket of voices was too loud for him to be able to focus on a single line of conversation. The hands of men and women were raised and clutched money notes tightly, waving in the wind as if it were a flag, their sadistic, depravity-hungry eyes staring forward like predators in hunting season.

Perhaps in a parallel reality, Kaz would have followed every sign Ketterdam gave him to turn his back and leave. There's nothing for you here, Dirty Hands. Ketterdam needed demons and monsters to stay stand, it fed on trauma and anger to perpetuate the ‘everything for the right price’ market. People's chaos and hell were what maintained the local economy. Any possibility of redemption, peace and, worst of all, love, were severely condemned.

Go away, Bastard of the Barrel. Maybe Kaz would have exerted the steely control over his veins more tightly, maybe he would have listened to the city's singing and paid more attention to the sea that swelled its tide, and then there would have been a life in which he wouldn't have widened his eyes at the scene.. Go away.

The sea roared, the waves broke, the putrefying hands of the bodies drowned in the depths of the ocean grabbed his ankles with more ferocity, preventing, restricting, screaming that his place would forever be there with them in the dirt of the sea. But it was already too late. He looked at the reason for all the commotion. The sun fell on that girl's hair and it was as if the rays had also penetrated the deepest waters of that vast oceanic darkness, exorcising all the claws that retreated with infernal screams, letting go of his ankles as if they were burning.

It was like a ship's anchor being pulled up with extreme brutality, splashing water everywhere, pushing the dying pieces into the depths of hell, scaring birds in the air, and finally, finally, bringing his soul out into the warm air.

Kaz Brekker felt his entire body shake as if he had just died and been reincarnated, it was like an explosion in the darkest depths of his chest that made his blood warm again, his heart show that it was beating and his soul breathe.

The scene in front of him shouldn't have caused any commotion in his spirit. Ketterdam was not a good place, and it was home to even less good people. That open-air slave market was nothing new. It was repulsive, disgusting and disgusting, but not new. And it wasn't something Kaz got involved in. Everyone had problems with him, and he didn't play anyone's hero. Never.

Until now.

One of the girls was sitting on that improvised wooden stage, eyes extremely scared and that damn sun shining on her hair that shone like the heat of release that made him breathe for the first time. She was young, small as a rabbit, and her fur didn't belong on those rusty chains on her wrist. You.

That was all an lapse. A powerful lapse not only in his judgment, but in his long-tormented soul. He blinded himself for the first time since Pekka.

The deprivation of air, the burning of the claws sunk to the bottom of the cruel ocean, the ice that shook his bones and the smell of dead flesh swollen with rotten water had finally given him a respite.

A truce so portentous and so overwhelming that, for two blissful, desperate seconds, Kaz fucking Bekker felt fucking normal. He was breathing, for the love of the Saints. He felt the heat of the sun, his muscles were light, his heart was swollen and the corners of the world were as colorful as when he was 8 years old.

He felt Kaz Rietveld.

All because that girl was in his sight. As if her sight was a miracle to his torment. As if she were a curse to Ketterdam. No good feelings have a place here.

But it was already too late. That lapse made Kaz approach as if he no longer controlled his feet. It made his heart beat with blood that wasn't his. It made him take out the only money in his pocket and hold it up high as the biggest proposal. None of that insanity was coming from Brekker. But from Rietveld.

“Her.’’ he said in a voice he didn’t recognize as his own.

Yes, Kaz didn't like to remember that day. Because it was confirmation that the boy he had tried so hard to keep dead and drowned in the sea was as alive as tangil. And that beating heart was his. Fucking hell. That lapse cost a lot; all the money the Crow Club made in that month. Kaz Brekker had countless dangerous people to pay and he had no idea what would do. But what irritated and infuriated Kaz the most was that, when he looked into the eyes of that girl as fragile as a rabbit, he didn't regret it.

Not at all. Not a bit. Even when he had every reason in the world to regret it.

He didn't regret taking you out of those horrible rags you wore and buying you a dress. He didn't regret bringing you to his quarters even when still had no fucking idea what he would do to you now.

What use would such a small, fragile and beautiful girl would have? You looked like a little rabbit. He made a fucking mistake, because now this little rabbit was looking at him with those big eyes full of emotions: fear, innocence, curiosity. Brekker hated it. But his soul was smiling.

''Don't worry. I won’t touch you’’ Kaz said that day. His words dripped with venom, disgust, and self-loathing. He constantly thought that his condition was a sarcastic and cruel joke from the Saints that Inej prayed so much to; doomed to never stand a touch, to always be a broken and pathetic bastard to the point of mortal weakness. This always aroused anger, hatred, and a thirst for revenge against Pekka.

But looking into your big eyes…he felt as if something very valuable had been brutally ripped from him long before Kaz understood what he wanted.

Inej was wrong. The Saints were not merciful. They were as fucking sadistic as the demons of Ketterdam.

--------

The days passed, and Kaz still had no idea what to do with you. Or how to pay his debt to so many people or how to replenish Crow Club drinks. He hid you from the rest of the dregs because he didn't want to and didn't know how to explain the situation. What would he say? Kaz Brekker never did anything without a plan. Everyone knew that. And your presence refuted ALL the certainties and theories that Kaz always had a motive.

Until one day, what he knew would happen happened; fate than those who do not pay powerful people. If he didn't have money, then he had to pay in blood. As it always would be in Ketterdam.

--------

The moon was paler than usual that autumn, sending icy golden rays across the dark city. The breeze smelled of sea air, smoke, sand and blood.

Kaz sat down in his writing chair, gasping as the thud made his broken ribs hurt. His teeth clenched tightly and dropped the broken cane to the floor, his blood on the silver raven combined with the dried blood around his face.

“Oh My God’’ the voice that Rietveld’s soul loved so much sounded, terrified and in panic.

You.

Kaz closed his eyes tightly, cursing under his breath that you had chosen to come in at that exact moment. It had been 2 weeks since you were here, with him, but your presence still made his hate the reactions and sensations he had.

Brekker couldn't have feelings. Ketterdam didn't accept that, it didn't tolerate that. And the proof of this was the bloody state he was in. Sentimentality is a weakness. He repeated to himself. But why then did his soul not regret anything when he saw you? Damn, he'd probably do it all over again.

“Get out of here’’ his voice was hoarser and lower than usual. And, when you did the opposite and took a step forward, Kaz looked at you warningly ‘’Now’’ Brekker could handle a beating, he'd had it his whole life. He could deal with broken ribs, with a bloody face, with a broken cane, with wounded pride. But he can't deal with the feeling that, when you looked at him, what hurt and tortured him more than anything else was the fact that he was robbed of your touch. He couldn't touch. And it never sparked anything but a fire of rage and revenge. Until now.

Kaz Brekker couldn't feel you. Not even if he fell to his knees on the floor and prayed to all the Saints. Not even if he sobbed asking for just one day of mercy. Just one day. Just a memory of how your skin felt beneath his hands. It had been more than a century since Brekker had touched another skin, warm skin. His was always cold, cadaverous, wet even when it was completely dry. And that was never a reason for despair. Until now.

He wanted to touch you more than he wanted to breathe. He wanted to slide his fingers across your cheek more than he wanted to slide his hands across money notes. But the sensation would send him back to the waters of Ketterdam. Back to the sickening feeling of rotten flesh and death surrounding him, making his chest tighten and his vision blacken as that traumatic memory would drag him back into.

The Saints were a fucking sadist. “Please…’’ your voice was broken and completely tearful. Please…

That single word - that single word alone had the power to bring his gaze up to you. Your pleading voice, your eyes filled with pain, not for your own, but for his, the way you whispered as if you was about to crumble.  You looked more scared than the day he took you from the slave market. Kaz fought down the tightening of his chest, his throat closing in. Please. Oh. He wanted to throw caution in the wind. Just once. Only for you. He wanted to put his gloves aside, just once. Just to hold your face. The desire to beg the Saints on one knee came back with more force. ''No" Kaz looked at you, staring into your eyes, as he saw you step closer. He watched the silk green dress flow, the fabric he bought for you, and for some reason it made him ache more. Damn dress.

He kept his eyes locked on that green silk for longer than expected. His body was completely bruised, but his thoughts were just feeling envious of that dress. That dress was on your skin. Feeling something he could never feel. Lucky dress.

Kaz heard your sobs get louder. "I beg you’’ You were about to fall apart “let me help…’’ He didn't know the extensions of his own injuries, but the look in your eyes said they were serious. Perhaps there was more blood than he expected.

Yes. his soul, Rietveld, screamed. Screaming so loud his bones shook. Yes. Touch me, make the cold go away again. Take me out of this ocean one more time. Help me. Touch me! Make the hands of the corpses leave my neck. Touch me. Saints, this is the most unbearable thing in the world. Kaz had no idea how long it had been since he had heard a person sob for him, but your voice broke something in him like nothing else. Kaz could get stabbed and beaten and shot, but this—this was the one thing he couldn't bear. "No'' Yes!

But you seemed in tune with his soul. As it has always been since he first saw you. You seemed to see beyond Brekker facade. Your footsteps reached him like desperate birds, your beautiful eyes growing wider every moment you saw the details of his injuries.

He didn't move from the chair, even when he should have, even when you fell to your knees between his feet, looking at him with so much fear and panic that he felt his heart skip a beat. Damn organ.

Yes. You looked beyond Brekker, You looked at Rietveld. And no one ever looked at Rietveld. “I promise to be quick. Just let me clean up the blood. Let me sterilize the knife cuts.’’ Your voice had so much pain that Kaz thought you were the one who suffered the beating. Which was impossible. Because Kaz Brekker would never let anyone touch you. but he can't touch you either. Yes, his fucking fate.

He wondered if you were so shaken because of guilt. Did you know that the 12 men he owed money got together to beat him? Did you know that he just hadn't paid because he used all the money to buy you? That's why you were so sentimental? Because the guilt. Out of pity. But it was impossible, Kaz never said anything about it. Maybe he was just looking for reasons to justify the magnitude of your concern with something other than feelings of the heart. “Please… I can't- I can't see you like this.” Your voice took him out of his thoughts, realizing that no matter how much he screamed inside, his expression remained as hard as a stone.

“I’m scared that something irreversible could happen.’’ you were honest, exposing your heart because you knew he wouldn’t expose his “Please, the thought of you dying makes me scared.’’ Yes, you were scared…like a cute rabbit. His body was hurting too much to know which stab wound was deeper, which were more superficial and which caused you so much panic.

Kaz swallowed around the lump in his throat, his heart beating wildly in his chest, but for a reason completely different from the wounds and bruising that plagued his body. Kaz wanted to put his guard up and push you away, but the sight of you kneeling before him, your eyes pleading for his consent as you raised your palm up to his battered and bloodied skin, that pleading tone - And that dress. The fucking dress he bought for you - was making him lose.

Kaz looked down at your face. His heart was burning. What am I doing? Your eyes, gazing up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks, you were breaking because of him, for him. And saints — he couldn't…Not when you looked that way. Not when every fiber of his being wanted you. Touch me. Make me come out of the sea. Make me breathe again Kaz closed his eyes, his breath sharp as he braced himself. A moment of hesitation before he finally speaks. "Quick."

It was another lapsus. The biggest mistake he could make. Ketterdam was again screaming in the background in the form of furious winds; that city did not allow pure emotions, redemptions and love.

You were so quick to get up and run to the bathroom, returning with a damp towel and a desperate but relieved look. Your knees dropped to the floor once again between his feet, and your breathing was faster than it had ever been before.

You were going to touch him

It was a mistake. An absurd error. A sin and a profanation of the worst kind.

The tide of the icy ocean within him changed course, beginning to churn its waters and threatening to drown Kaz Brekker once again. The sensation was as if his skin was swelling from the cold waves, like a corpse that had been discarded at sea for centuries. And that wouldn't be far from the truth. Kaz Rietveld was shipwrecked in that ocean along with Jordie. Along with all the other unfortunate people in that damned city.

So why did he also feel Rietveld now more than ever? when you were about to touch him.

Kaz's soul stirred, perhaps in desperation, perhaps begging for release. Maybe for both things. The emotions were so strong that he felt like vomiting the salty sea water stuck in his lungs. Then he focused on one point: the smooth skin of your neck.

You were so nervous and desperate that he could see your vein pulsing, a few errant droplets of sweat running from behind your ear to your slender neck, making their tempting way, mocking Kaz for not being able to follow the same path with his fingers.

Would he be able to fool his demons if he made that journey with his mouth? Could it be that his tongue also carried his traumas?

The wet towel went over one of his cuts, and Kaz swore so loudly that it scared you. His fingers locked for a second in the chair, but your fear of him changing his mind was greater than your fear of his reactions. You pressed the towel again, and again, and moved from one wound to the next. Your movements were in automatic mode to want to take advantage of his permission as much as possible, to help as much as possible in a time limit that you didn't know.

The invisible clock chimed like a premonition.

With one hand, you used your trembling fingers to move a piece of his cut shirt to the side. And your and his skins brushed

Holy Mother of Saints. Kaz grunted, letting his head fall back and pressing his fingers into the wood of the chair's arms even more. He closed his eyes tightly. The avalanche of emotions raised a tisunami in his sea and crashed over him with such brutality that Kaz felt he might die again. And revive.

Your fingers brushed against his skin once again, and this time his chest exploded on a different note; as if the heat of the sun was fighting to rescue him from the bottom of the sea. Making its way through the petrifying waters like a ray of heat. Like a chance. A hope. Or as an illusion.

Kaz Brekker never cried. He came out of that ocean swearing revenge, like a ghost, a monster, the murderer of Rietveld. Vowing to be a knight of the apocalypse. But he was none of those things. Kaz was a man of flesh and blood. With a heart that bled every day, with a soul neglected and so massacred that it bordered on unrecognizability: but not total annihilation.

Kaz Brekker never cried. But Kaz Rietveld did.

Being touched, after so many years without even human contact, made Brekker want to vomit, scream, cut his hands off, drown himself with Jordie, blow Pekker's brains out. But it made Rietveld want to cry, to cry out to the saints for salvation, to beg that he could have just one good thing in life. Please. his soul tore in prayers. Please…let me have this moment…for the love of God, have mercy on me just now. Somehow, he didn't vomit, and his skin on his became more like being caressed by the sun. He squeezed his eyes closed even more and imagined himself on the roof of the Crow Club, beneath the midday sun of the height of summer.

You were the sun. Just it.

Your hands pressed bandages into his deep cuts.

You were the sun. Just it.

Your breathing was heavy and your fingers pushed the rest of his bloody shirt away.

You were the sun. Just it.

Kaz repeated that like a mantra. A prayer. A choir. An exorcism. But his midday sun at the height of summer was beginning to be clouded, the sea on the horizon was beginning to swell, and Jordie's voice was beginning to rise from the dead in the air. The second he couldn't take it anymore, you pulled his hands away. Brekker breathed a sigh of relief. Rietveld screamed in despair.

‘’You’re going to be fine’’ your voice was as shaky as his emotions.

Kaz couldn't open his eyes yet. Not now. Not at this moment and… the absence of touch gave way to the feeling of extremely warm lips touching one of his bandages for a second.

This removed him from his disabilities. Stunned and perplexed, Kaz opened his eyes immediately and tilted his head towards you the same second his your moved away.

If your touches had been the sun, that micro kiss had been the entire fire.

“My mother one day said that kissing the wound makes it heal faster.” Maybe you were holding on tooth and nail to all the things that guaranteed you that Kaz Brekker would survive that moment.

Maybe a kiss heals wounds faster... indeed. Kaz Brekker thought before a curve of a smile painted his lips.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

After So Long

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: angst

Summary: You're forced to go back to the one place you tried to hard to get away from. You're forced to contront the memories you left behind.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: protection (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Then

It seemed like wherever Bucky went, Steve and Sam followed. You thought it’d be nice to go shopping at your local mall with Bucky since he’d been so busy with work. You put on something cute to wear and did your hair only to feel like you’re being followed the whole time. You tried to ignore them but it was hard when you saw their black clothes in every corner.

“Does this look cute?” you asked and held up a shirt.

“On me or you?” Bucky joked.

“Ha-ha, very funny. Wait, it might look good on you.”

Bucky smiled and took the shirt while you moved to a different section of the store, the dresses. He didn’t mind holding the things you wanted to get. He’d do it forever if he knew this made you happy. It does. You liked shopping. Just not with grown men following you.

“Do they have to be here?” you sighed as you looked at the dresses.

“It’s a precaution, pisică.”

You liked the little nicknames he gave you, especially in his native tongue, Romanian.

“Because of your job?” Bucky nodded. “When are you gonna tell me what you do?”

“I’d rather stay in our little bubble a little while longer, if possible.”

“Fine, but you will have to tell me eventually.” Bucky didn’t respond to that. Once you were done with the dresses, you moved to the jewelry section. The prices in this store were outrageous and you turned to Bucky with a frown. “Are you sure we should keep shopping here? I’ve already spent enough of your money.”

“Pisică, I make more money in an hour than the one hundred grand you’re going to spend.”

“You’re spoiling me,” you grinned.

Bucky pulled you into him and placed his hands on your ass, not caring if anyone saw.

“You’re my girl. Of course, I will.”

He leaned down and kissed you and your heart swelled in happiness.

Now

You always knew Bucky would find you but you didn’t know when or where it’d happen. He truly didn’t know where you were for the first six months you were gone. After you enrolled in college, he found you. In order to apply for it, you had to use your real name which Sam caught when he was looking for you online.

Despite what you may think of him, he really does love you. He just has a weird way of showing it.

Bucky has left his men behind where you crashed your car at while his driver takes you to one of his mansions. You’ve been to almost all of them because he used to take you all around the country for the hell of it. You have a room in every single one of them.

“Pisică--”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap and look at him.

“It took a long time to find you. I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirks. He loses it when he thinks about what to ask next. “Why did you run?”

You look at him with wide eyes and a parted mouth. “Did you really just ask me that? You’re a murderer.”

“Well, that depends on how to look at it.”

“There’s no looking at it differently. You kill people. That’s murder.”

Bucky decides to change the topic because he’s not gonna get far with you accusing him of things he’s done.

“Remember how we met?” It’s incredible how this man can jump from one topic to the next. “I do. I even remember the kiss we shared. Care to hear it from my perspective?”

“Not really?”

He tells you the story anyway as if you weren't there to begin with.

Bucky met up with several potential business partners that he thought would benefit him and his company. He’s one of the biggest mafia bosses this country has ever seen and having allies is much better than having enemies. He controls the weapons market, the communication sector, and most of the casinos across the country. These men would give him access to most of the drug trading posts if they’d only get their heads out of their asses and agree to his terms.

He doesn’t let the storm outside prevent him from doing business which is why he took this little meeting to one of the most expensive and high-end restaurants in town. The owner knows him and always gives him a good deal.

“Ma’am! You can’t just run in here!”

Bucky looks up and locks eyes with the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen before. Granted, she’s soaking wet from the rain outside. She looks fearful as if she’s running from someone. For some reason, Bucky would kill anyone who ever made her feel unsafe, and he doesn’t even know her.

She looks back outside and runs further into the restaurant, ignoring the calls from the hostess. She runs right over to him and interrupts the meeting he carefully set up without a care in the world. There’s panic in her eyes. She’s afraid. If only she knew who he was.

“I’m so sorry. Please play along.”

A man comes into the restaurant just as soaked as she is but Bucky doesn’t have time to react. She sits on his lap and kisses him desperately. He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her from falling off his lap and kisses her back. She is getting his nice suit wet but he doesn’t care. This kiss not only screams ‘I’m desperate’ but it screams ‘I need help’. The men Bucky is with chuckle but he tunes them out.

“Sir!”

Bucky can only assume the man had left the restaurant. His mysterious lover tries to pull away from him but he pulls her in closer and continues to kiss her. Only when he is satisfied does he finally let her go. She turns to check that the man isn’t there anymore and visually relaxes.

“I am so sorry.”

“Ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t let me leave and I only managed to get away from him.” something comes over her face and she backs away in embarrassment. “God, that was so rude of me. I don’t know you. Thank you for that. Again, I’m really sorry I interrupted your dinner.”

She leaves the table and checks to make sure her ex isn’t outside looking for her. Once she feels she’s safe, she runs back outside into the pouring rain. Bucky clears his throat and takes out his phone so he can call one of his trusted men. He has Sam working on something in another state so Steve is who he calls.

“Boss?”

“Did you see her run out?”

“Yes.”

“Follow her. Find out about the boyfriend.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bucky gets off the phone and returns to his meeting like nothing happened.

“You came in there dripping wet. You came over to me and kissed me. Do you remember that kiss? How desperate you were for it?” During his storytelling, Bucky pulled you closer to him and slid his hand in your hair. His hand is so big that he can cup the side of your head and still run his thumb over your bottom lip. “Do you remember the taste of my lips on yours?”

“I will never kiss you again much less do anything more than that.”

You push him away and he smirks in amusement. He keeps his hands to himself for the rest of the ride. His mansion is like the one in New York just with more acres. He has the ultimate dream house fit with anything you can think of. Pools, spas, theaters, sports courts, and a ton more.

You dread coming back here not because it reminds you of Bucky but because it reminds you of the good times you had with him. The times from before you knew what he did for work.

You’re escorted inside his mansion and taken to a room with Steve. It’s like you’re being placed on time out because Steve stands by the door as if he isn’t allowed to let you leave.

“Ai grijă la ea, e foarte drăguță, dar e o fire plină de luptă. Ea nu iese din casă.”

Watch out for her, she’s real pretty but she’s a feisty one. She doesn’t leave the house.

Bucky keeps eye contact with you the whole time before leaving the room. Your blood boils.

“Ești un laș care se ascunde în spatele unei armate de oameni!”

You’re a coward who hides behind an army of men!

Bucky doesn’t bat an eye at your words. He’s the one who taught you Romanian, now you’re using it against him.

“I’m leaving,” you say to Steve and storm to the door.

Steve lets you out of the room knowing there are guards posted at every door to prevent you from leaving the mansion. Sam stands at the front door so he must be done cleaning the crash of your car. 

“Sorry, you can’t leave. Bosses’ order,” Sam says and stops you from leaving.

Instead of standing here arguing with him, you figured you get this over with. Your room hasn’t been touched since you left, and you can only assume your other rooms in the other mansions haven’t been touched either. This room is filled with so many good memories of you and Bucky. You hate that you’re looking at them now with such disdain.

Bucky was never one for pictures so the ones he did take were inappropriate to post anywhere. He thought it was funny to print them out and frame them for your room to always remind you who you belong to. Maybe you still do. Maybe you don’t. You’re not sure of how you feel anymore.

It hurts to look at them because you still love him. You’re so damn in love with him and it hurts because you thought you’d never love a murderer.

Bucky returns to the house hours later, well into the night. He finds you asleep in your own bed with dried tears on your cheeks. He looks at the pictures on the dresser and yanks his tie off angrily. He makes sure to be quiet as he walks over to you.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

He kisses your forehead before leaving your room. God, he wishes things were different. He hates seeing you in pain.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[asslover4]

Ultra specific Romeo Lucci headcanons no one asked for

A lot of these aren't based off of canon at all, just on vibes and intuition

- He's from Campania, specifically Naples, and lived there until he turned 17. That was when he moved to Tokyo, and a couple of years later he started at Darkwick

- One of 4 siblings, but, as the eldest man, he was always seen as the heir of the family, so his father viewed him as more of a tool/an extension of himself than his son. As a result, he isn't super close with his parents, but he's close with his nonna, who effectively raised him as best as she could (grandmother)

- Speaks both Napulitano (Campania's dialect) and Italian, but he only speaks Napulitano with his nonna. As a kid, he used to constantly get the two mixed up, which would cause his father to tell him off for not speaking "proper italian,". He still mixes them up sometimes if he goes for long periods of time without speaking one or the other

- His father had a gambling problem, which was one of the things that caused the collapse of his family. This is why he can't stand gambling. Despite this, he still runs the Sinostra casino/works as the campus drug dealer because he was always trained to take over his father's empire

- Also dislikes drugs, despite his upbringing. However, he'll have a glass of expensive red wine with his meal or the occasional cigarette

- His family isn't particularly religious, but because of the state of a lot of public schools in Italy, he got sent to one of those private Catholic schools, and he absolutely despised it

- Would have been bullied for having a pretentious name (Scorpius💀) but no one even tried because they knew he came from one of the most powerful families in the city

- Still keeps in contact with his nonna by writing letters when he can, but not with the rest of his family

- She's also the main reason why he's pretty fond of his region's dishes. He has them in Japan every chance he gets and has ordered his men to recreate them several times, but they were never quite the same. His favourites include pasta alla puttanesca and pastiera

- Pansexual. Had some internalised homophobia due to spending years in a Catholic school, but he's mostly unpacked that now. A big part of that for him was exploring fashion and self care, which is part of the reason why he's so passionate about those things (he also loves looking hot, yeah). One of the reasons he initially bonded with Leo was that he felt like he understood this

- Only buys clothes from Italian luxury brands because he thinks the quality and the designs are just "superior"

- Definitely had a bidet installed in the bathroom of his private office as he "just couldn't carry on living in such a disgusting manner"

- Despite pretending to find it stupid, he's pretty invested in national football and always watches Napoli's serie a games in his private office

- One of the reasons why he hates people calling him "Romeo" is because he can't stand the butchered pronunciation, and having everyone around him willingly call him "Fico" (which is easier to pronounce and is slang for cool/hot depending on the context) kinda gives him a power trip

- Definitely does the wealthy immigrant thing of having products you can't find in Japan shipped from Italy. This is mostly with things like wine and tailor made clothes/jewellery, but occasionally with local foods to

[anantaru]

what would your favs do in a modern au? and another really important question: who would they listen to?

cw. none, different tropes, gn! reader

a/n. nonnie I'm not sure what you meant with the 'who would they listen to' so i thought you may mean songs they like ??

heizou the private investigator, who has his own agency but prefers to work underground— he has a soft-spot for helping people in need and doesn‘t charge money for it. whilst, the local police knows of him and always hires him for quite dangerous, complicated investigations if they were to fail to do their own deep examinations on the mission at hand. heizou is vastly proud of his profession and his skills are one of a kind, for some he might appear to act relatively arrogant but it's not that at all if you dare to look at it closely, he's confident in his abilities if anything and treasures his own well-groomed skills the most. fun fact: currently, alongside the police, heizou was investigating the mafia whose members certainly are known to you.

heizou's favorite music of choice: french music (i'm biased okay leave me alone) for example demain by PLK or derniere danse by indila.

scaramouche the mafia hitman, who too— prefers to work underground to escape any awkward encounters with people. he exceedingly loathes conversations, they make his blood boil, peculiarly with his peers and would rather gauge his own eyes out than attend any special meetings. although as such, his work was in a class by itself, as perfect as someone can be, the higher ups know that he was not dispensable in any way and a real treasure within their ranks. in scaramouche's eyes, there was nothing he cannot do nor was anything off limits, if there was a mission to be accomplished, he will take the challenge without batting an eye.

scaramouche's favorite music of choice: mitski or melanie martinez (he doesn't admit it tho) &lt;3

alhaitham the library overseer at your university who never talks to anyone, kind of a weirdo, yet he cannot possibly do so anyways since most of the times he greatly engages in yet another spellbinding book. for him, it's the perfect job; listen— he never needs to work overtime, duh, he's always home by the same, exact time and although some students can be quite loud and jarring to be around with, the library was a place of pure silence, which he greatly relishes in. but be cautious, if you dare to even raise a single octave of your voice, he will shoot you a death glare and wow, what a terrifying and overly handsome sight at once, you already know that many students only go to the library to admire the hidden view.

alhaitham's favorite music of choice: the man not only uses his headphones for music, but to block out outside noises which works just wonderfully. he prefers slower tunes, ones that do not disturb his reading. for example, ludovico einaudi or johann sebastian bach.

yelan the infamous casino manager, who makes her peers shiver in both sharp fear and terror. if she wants you to win, you will, otherwise she'll do what she does best, manipulate the game to her own benefits to slowly enchant you with her intense charms you simply cannot get enough of, only for you to slowly, agonizingly slow, slant down into the pits of literal hell and large debts. the pretty, dazzling woman has a business to run after all, you cannot be mad at her for that. yet, she is also reasonable and makes sure she isn't tainting the precious, not to mention flawless image of her casino.

yelan's favorite music of choice: no tears left to cry by ariana grande and diamonds by queen riri

dottore the mafia doctor, who works alongside scaramouche and has stitched countless of his wounds in the past. although the two of them absolutely loathe each other, no one can deny the outstanding skills dottore would display on a daily basis. whether it's open wounds, deep, dark bruises or broken bones, there was nothing he cannot heal. notwithstanding the fact that his practices might seem unethical to the outside perspective— especially if you take his habits of experimenting on his patients into consideration, yet, as long as he sews and bastes together the injured, his boss simply does not care and aids him in whatever he might be in need of.

dottere's favorite music of choice: torture sounds /for legal reasons this is a joke, or classical tunes for example the four seasons by vivaldi while he conducts his experiments on some patients he has.

kazuha the lifestyle blogger who takes you with him on every new adventure taken. his youtube channel had blown up since and had become one of the top on the entire platform. his posting schedule is all over the place though, he can go without uploading a new video in months which his subscribers do not mind, kazuha was a free spirit who goes with his own personal vibe, if he was in the mood to film something from his exciting adventures he'll do just that. expect loads of selfies with different animals from all around the world on his other social media, (ignore the weed in his hand) beautiful locations and deep talks on livestreams late at night.

kazuha's favorite music of choice: everything by tame impala, he also likes listening to indie artists and support them on his channel.

venti the worldwide music star who sells out every tour he does. the man was envied by the ones who shared his profession while utterly loved by the countless amount of fans he has. his voice acts like a charm, it's sharply mesmerizing and soothing to the ears, in some ways does it appear as if he's wholly hypnotizing the audience with his tunes. another fact, he writes all his songs himself and gets praised from every direction possible, while if you take everything into consideration of his life, venti was still very much humble and loved interacting with his fans or do interviews so they can get to know him better.

venti's favorite music of choice: loads of kpop music, for example stray kids or txt, but he does have a soft spot for classical music whenever he composes his own.

kaveh the architect who gets booked by the biggest, most flashing celebrities on the planet. fun fact, he was the one who constructed venti's mansion, since the latter only wanted the best of the best— while, quite frankly, there isn't anyone better than kaveh himself who could've adapted to venti's wished and made his home all the more personal and extravagant. in spite of the fact that he gets paid loads of money for his work, the sweet, talented architect tends to find himself broke almost all the time in his life. thankfully he had made a special friend whilst going out in town to drink a couple of his favorite beverages, here's to note that he never thought he'd become friends with a certain librarian.

kaveh's favorite music of choice: he likes taylor swift, ariana grande and tends to listen to music that is older, yet quite underrated. kaveh claims that the tracks on certain albums that get the least attention, are the best in his eyes.

©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work

[windmaedchen-oceanhorn]

Since Valen's tales changed... one (two) stood out particularly for its most cliché content. xD Not that I doubt for a second, though, that Valen could and would do this. ;-)

The following old tales are recorded from memory. If you have them saved or can make suggestions, please do and I'll edit it. (@noisette-tornade?)

EDIT: I found the old Tales recorded and corrected them below.

Valen's Tales - OLD versus NEW

1. OLD: Valen once had a duel with the swordsman hired by an evil lord. Skillfully, he dodged the swordsman's ferocious attacks and won the match.

NEW: Valen once had a duel with a swordsman hired by an evil lord. He skillfully won by slicing off the man's belt and pantsing him. Everyone was impressed by what they saw.

2. OLD: Lately, Valen's success rate in surveillance missions has dropped a bit because villagers always warmly greet him while he's undercover.

NEW: Recently, Valen's clandestine missions have been less successful because the children he saved before always run up and warmly call out to him!

3. OLD: "Mr. Valen's handsome face has been etched in my mind since he rescued me from the bandits". - Ms. Mary, a resident of Holistone

NEW: "Ever since Sir Valen rescued me from those awful bandits, his dashing image has been etched into my mind. I even dreamt of him a few times. Don't tell my husband." -Mrs. Mary, a resident of Holistone

4. OLD: When a waiter at the Traveler's Light tried to learn one of Valen's battle moves, the sword fell out of his hand and poked a hole in the tavern's iconic barrel.

NEW: When a waiter at the Traveler's Light tried one of Valen's signature moves, the sword flew out of his hand and poked a hole in the tavern's iconic barrel, almost slicing off the head of the patron that was sitting next to it.

5. OLD: Valen once removed a despot for some villagers, who put together their savings as his reward. But Valen took only one egg, his favourite food.

NEW: Valen once removed a local gangster for some villagers, who put together their savings as his reward. However, he refused their gift and instead asked for a basket of eggs. He told them he loves omelets and egg muffins.

6. OLD: The owner of a gang-related casino turned pale in fright in jail when he realized that his interrogator, Valen, was none other than the customer who had won a fortune from his poker table.

NEW: The owner of an underground gambling house was shocked when he discovered that the person who arrested him was none other than Valen, a regular at poker tables. "If you start a poker club in prison, let me know." Valen smiled innocently.

7. no changes: "We've discussed it for a while, but no one knows the full story. How on earth did General Hogan catch the captain?" -A member of the Solitaries

8. OLD: "Valen is way more reliable than he appears." - General Hogan

NEW: "Valen is more reliable than he looks. He once fought off a group of brigands with a mop and a pot lid." -General Hogan

9. OLD: Girls in Holistone gather to gossip about Valen's love stories, although no one has ever seen him successfully court a lady.

NEW: The girls in Holistone often gather to gossip about Valen's love life. However, none of them admitted to actually having seen him with a lady. It makes one wonder what they're really gossiping about.

10. OLD: The sword "Stormcaller" is missing to this day. According to some underground market traders, they claimed to have seen someone resembling Valen at the auction that night.

NEW: The infamous sword "Stormcaller" is still missing to this day. According to some illicit peddlers, they claimed to have seen someone resembling Valen at an auction one night. When asked, Valen replied, "There are a lot of handsome guys in Esperia."

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (01)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: Teen (series will be explicit) Words: 1500 Summary: The Ghoul takes a bounty and you might be lost

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Wanted: Alive and Unharmed

The Ghoul runs his thumb over the picture - a woman, pretty enough but who knew what liberties the artist might have taken. It wasn’t uncommon to find people had some glaringly obvious deformity that no one had seen fit to mention to him before setting him on his tasks. Hunchbacks, missing limbs, hell he’d had a job once for a man whose only resemblance to the reward poster was that they were missing an eye. 

They’d been missing two by the time he’d drug them back to town.

In this case, he wouldn’t be surprised if the woman in question here turned out to be a damn sight less appealing than the picture made her out to be. But he was less intrigued by her hypothetical beauty than he was by the number beneath the image.

Reward: 5000 caps 

It was an absurd amount of money, enough to keep him in chem for years. Not that that mattered - chem was simple enough to come by if you knew where to look for it and procuring caps had never been an issue for him. No, the lure lay in the sheer amount - and that caution… alive and unharmed.

“What the hell did this one do?” he asks the woman putting the poster up with a frown.

“Ran away,” she replies with a shrug. “Boss wants her back.”

One of those then.

“This for real?” he taps at the number.

“Boss wants her back bad.”

He nods, pulling the poster off the wall and gesturing to the woman. “You can leave off, I’ll get her.”

“You?” she blinks at him then glances at the wall of bounties. “You sure this is the one you want?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just… boss is real picky - not a scratch on her.”

“Then not a scratch will be.”

The woman shrugs and moves along, tucking the papers under her arm. He doesn’t think she’ll listen to him, but if it keeps her from putting up more signs today it’ll give him a head start.

Tearing the reward amount off he stares at the picture with a frown, studying the woman’s face. She reminds him of someone, not that he could quite put his finger on it. Something in the eyes though…

He grunts, folding the poster and tucking it into his saddlebag. He’ll figure it out when he finds her, and he will find her. He always does. Practically wasn’t fun anymore.

The bounty itself was being offered by someone he didn’t recognize, a warlord calling himself Nero down at what used to be the Stateline - when there were still states to have lines. Probably got himself holed up in a casino like those assholes out in New Vegas.

Sliding his palm down the hilt of his pistol he glances up at the sun. Plenty of daylight left, enough time to ask a few questions, see if anyone had seen her.

“Move it.”

Someone shoves into his shoulder but the Ghoul barely spares the man a glance, turning on his heel and striding across the creaking boardwalk and down into the street. He might oughta consider supplies too, he doesn’t need much to survive on but he does need a bit.

“Someone should take care of those fucking vermin.”

Pausing in the street, he turns to look back, eyeing the man from under the brim of his hat. “What was that?”

“You heard me, asshole,” the idiot continues, oblivious to the idea that these could be his last words.

The Ghoul considers his options. He could shoot the man, easy enough. Wouldn’t take but a second and then another minute to roll the body and see what he had. Would cause a bit of a ruckus though, and he wasn’t inclined to spend his time in what might pass for a lockup round here if the locals took offense to it.

That did leave the more amusing option.

He turns slowly, one hand pushing back the corner of his coat to rest on his hip, the other arm hanging loose at his side. “Seems to me you might be having a bit of trouble with what we used to call ‘courtesy,’” He moves in the man’s direction, slowly rising up the small set of stairs until they’re eye to eye. The other man flinches and the Ghoul suppresses a smile. “Now, would you like to try that again?”

“I s-said-”

The Ghoul doesn’t give him a chance to finish, striking as quick as a cobra with thumb and forefinger. The man chokes but the Ghoul doesn’t let go, pulling on the tongue until the man’s knees buckle.

“Now I think you were properly warned about the consequences,” with his free hand he pulls his knife, rusty and with a patina of grime from Lord only knew where. “So I can’t help but wonder if you might enjoy this.”

“Thowwy!” the man’s neck arches back, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “M’thowwy!”

The Ghoul hums to himself, hovering the blade over the man’s tongue. “We’ll see. Tell me, you seen this girl?” He digs the poster out, knife flashing dangerously close to the man’s eyes.

“Oh.”

“No?” He cocks his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Then I reckon you ain’t of much use to me are you?”

“Oth.”

“What was that?”

“Oth! Oth!” The man points and the Ghoul glances that way. South, fair enough.

“When?”

“Unnu.”

“Unnu?”

“Unno. Unno.”

“You don’t know,” the Ghoul finishes for him, still not letting his tongue go. “Then how, pray tell, do you know where she’s going?”

The man fumbles in his pocket, yanking a poster out that matches the one the Ghoul has in his hand. He takes it with a thoughtful frown, noting the scrawled words on it.

“South to Mexico, eh?” he asks, making a point of enunciating the soft ‘x’. “You going after her?”

The man nods and the Ghoul squeezes tighter until the man squeals, a mumbled series of what could pass for no’s grunting out of him.

“Good.” With a final nod the Ghoul lets the man’s tongue go. But there’s no chance for a sigh of relief before he turns his knife and slices the top of the man’s ear off.

“What the fuck?”

Grinning, the Ghoul slips the bloody cartilage between his lips, savoring the taste of fresh blood. “Something to remember your manners by, boy.”

☢ ☢ ☢

“Man, it’s hot,” you pant softly, resting both hands on your knees as you squint off into the distance. The short sage brush offers little protection from the late afternoon sun, and the trees with their spiky little leaves weren’t much help either. They had a dumb name - like Steven bushes. Something like that.

“I tell you Steven,” you huff conversationally, “days like today make a girl think leaving home wasn’t the best idea.”

The tree didn’t respond, which was probably for the best.

There are hills in the distance, maybe mountains? It’s really hard to tell how far away they are. You had been hoping to get to them before the sun went down but that was beginning to look less and less likely.

And that horned skull you’d seen a while back was starting to feel more and more ominous.

Letting out a sigh you set off again, doing your best to conserve energy. You try to keep to the hard packed earth, avoiding the sandy spots and looking for stones where you can find them. Anything that would make you more difficult to track. 

And someone was tracking you, you were certain of it. The Emperor wasn’t going to let you go just because you’d run off. With any luck he’d search down closer to Baja, you’d laid enough trail that direction even a blind man could find it. But there was no harm in being careful.

A hop takes you from one stone to another, your boots slipping slightly on the nearly smooth rock. Something skitters and you freeze, glancing around to find the source. It takes a moment for your eyes to pick it out - a lizard, maybe a foot long, the same sandy brown color as the rocks. It puffs its neck out and tilts its head at you curiously. 

“Nice lizard?” you ask cautiously. Keeping your eyes on it you move sideways, waiting to see if it’s going to spit poison or open its mouth to reveal inch long fangs. It puffs its neck out once more, mouth opening and a soft chirp comes forth.

Breathing a sigh of relief you watch it skitter a few feet away from you, turning sideways and cocking its head once more. Only this time, when it puffs its neck and opens its mouth a deafening roar sounds instead.

That did not come from that lizard.

Nor, in fact, do you want to know where it came from. It’s enough to know that whatever made that noise exists. Deciding speed is more important than caution, you take off running, aiming for the only thing in the distance that gives any semblance of hope.

It’s only as you’re climbing, heart beating in your throat, that it occurs to you that things that roar might also be able to climb.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[dailypersonamodding]

Saturday, April 15th, 2023

[ Sorry for the prolonged absence! Life got complicated for both of the admins and for the time being you'll need to deal with me! ]

ANYWAY, Goro Akechi Time

So, as is considered nearly common knowledge by now, data present in P5 and P5R points to the existence of a scrapped Akechi Palace for our ✨lovely pancake boy✨, but how much is known about it *really?* Here's a data breakdown of the scraps left over!

Every field in Persona 5 has a Major and Minor Field ID, and the game is programmed to assume Major ID's between 150 and 200 are Palaces. The final game uses IDs 150 to 162 for each Palace like so:

f150 - Prologue [ Casino Duplicate ]

f151 - Castle Pt.1

f152 - Castle Pt.2

f153 - Museum

f154 - Bank

f155 - Pyramid

f156 - Moon Base

f157 - Casino

f159 - Cruiseship

f160 - Holy Grail Path

f161 - Mementos Depths

f162 - Labratory

As you can see, there are missing Fields between 157 and 159, but how can we prove this is Akechi? We look at the dialogue for negotiating with Shadows!

When knocked down, Shadows occasionally mention whatever Palace Ruler is currently active. This data is stored in BATTLE\TALK in various .BF ( Binary Flowscript ) files that are run based on the enemy type.

Inside the BMD ( Binary Message Data ) chunk of these files, there's some unused dialogue:

Flee while you still can! Ahahaha! It is futile to oppose Lord Akechi! You would do well to tread carefully. Lord Akechi is a man possessed of immense desire. Hmph… I wonder if your power would even pose a threat to Lord Akechi… I give up… *sob* Lord Akechiii…

There are 27 lines in total from Shadows referencing "Lord Akechi", all of them localized! Normally, this is where most investigation ends. There was a planned Akechi Palace between Sae and Shido, but all data was scrapped and any attempts to load into the Palace by force fail due to an intense scrub of all related data.

( Generally this is a sign things are not going well )

This, however is not the end of things just yet—Atlus was not entirely diligent in the data wipe. One of the things left behind is a single .ENV ( Environment ) file. These files—among many other things—specify properties like texture color, color grading, light effects and so on for every field.

ENV\ENV0158_001_000.ENV is found in this folder, corresponding to the missing 158 Palace ID. However, since there's no meshes left over, we can only see ENV 158's effects by placing it on another field. Here is the front hall of the Bank Palace as seen in-game normally:

Here is what Akechi's Palace would have looked like, at least the ambiance, had development continued:

( I'm sure someone can make some kind of argument about how this represents Akechi thematically, lord knows I can. )

One other aspect still remaining is found in FIELD\FTD\FLDDNGPACK.FTD, a list that specifies what encounters can be found in any Palace, along with loot in Chests and Search Objects. Akechi's DNGPACK List is not entirely empty!

We can see by parsing this file that Akechi's Palace would have had around 21 different Fields, about the standard for every Palace in P5R, though this excludes Safe Rooms. While the Encounter Entries sadly lead only to default Kamoshida Castle battles, his list references a unique Random Loot Table 7! At the time of writing, it appears no other part of the game references Random Loot Table 7. While it lacks unique items found in other Palaces, the data is indicative of what could've been found inside Akechi's Palace Search Objects.

Jades and Garnets are placed at surprisingly high priority, along with the Marble Chessboard. Of note are the items such as the Marble Chessboard and Brass Pocket Watch, those specific Item IDs cannot be found in any other location in the ENTIRE Random Loot Table .FTD file.

Until more info about how Palaces function is uncovered, it seems like our Detective Prince will continue to elude us in his heavily fog-covered ways, this subject clearly needs more research to find any more remnants!

That’s all for now, see you soon!

[bluepotion85]

The Golden Ratio - Chapter 1

The Straw hats are tricked into a massive dept inside the biggest entertainment city in the world. To make sure they come back to pay, they have to leave Zoro as a prisoner on the island. Zoro is confident his crew will return to save him, but what he doesn't know is that his captor has bigger plans for him.

(The following story contains male weight gain, food play, BDSM, kidnap, encouragement, and feeder/feedee scenarios. If that's not for you, then go to church or something vanilla dude.

This takes place during and after the events of the One-Piece film GOLD. For a better experience see the film on your local streaming service.

This story is written in collaboration with @bee-wg )

Tesoro

Seeing Strawhat's crew's expression from shock to despair is exactly what I live for.

Their captain had naively bet against me, the king of the casino, with the twenty million berries I loaned them. In total, they have to repay three hundred and twenty million berries.

“You know we can't pay you a damn thing!” said the cat burglar, Nami.

“Then I guess you would have to work your debt off. If you refuse, I will have to collect your debt by force.” I replied.

After eating, drinking, racing, and gambling, they have dug themselves into a hole they can't crawl back from.

“I’ll handle this. Taking out the boss is the quickest way to end a fight,” said the pirate hunter, Zoro.

“Interesting statement, so you’re going to beat me? Here, in this city?” I asked.

“Easily,” he replied.

He charged toward me, and with a single gesture of my hand, his body solidified into gold where it stood. Only the pirate hunter´s head is left untouched as he screams, “Stay behind!”

“Good call, another second, and they would all be golden statues,” I said.

“What's this power?” said the green-haired pirate.

“I ate the gol gol fruit. I can control any gold I've touched, and you were all covered in gold flakes when you entered this city, weren't you?” I replied.

“Like everyone else, once you entered this city, you were completely under my control,” I shouted.

With a kick, the pirate hunter falls to his back.

“Now then, I’ll have you return the money we loaned you. With your three hundred and twenty million berry bounty, that is,” I say.

“So, from the beginning you …!” Said Nami.

With a laugh, I reply, “Nobody can oppose me!”

“Don't get cocky! she replied.

My main singer and servant, Carina, approached them and put a knife to Nami´s neck before saying, “Don't move.”

“Who-?” Nami asked, looking at the knife.

“Shut your mouth and obey,” Carina replied.

You- We will pay our debt,” said Nami.

“Perfect, from now on, you shall work for me. I will take this man as insurance over your debt. If any of you try to betray me or escape, I will have him executed before a live audience!” I replied.

With gritted teeth, they looked as Nami said, “Fine, we agree,”

“Of course you do. After all, this is just another one of life's gambles. Will you pay off your debt and save your friend, or will you end up slaves for the rest of your lives?”

Their captain, Monkey D. Luffy, the man capable of defeating Doflamingo lies uselessly, his expression filled with rage and impotence, while my workers drag the golden body of his crewmate.

“Be sure to entertain me thoroughly. I look forward to it!” I said.

We walk through the hallways that connect the VIP room to my studio. Dice drags Zoro's body while he struggles foolishly to break from my golden bind.

“What is the most dangerous mission we can send them to, Baccarat?” I asked.

“We could make them capture the legendary bird of Garuda Island, Steal the treasure of the Ataraxia kingdom, or even dig out the remains of the former Phrygia king,” she replied.

“Send them on all three then, and install Den Den Mushi on their ship. I want everyone on Gran Tesoro to see their gamble run,” I replied.

My laugh drowns the hallway before I hear him speak.

“You will regret this,” said Zoro.

“You still have some spirit in you, pirate hunter,” I say, leaning closer to him.

“It's going to be entertaining beating that energy out of you,” I add.

With a single kick, I put him to sleep.

-------------------

Zoro

My eyes open to find an office. No, a Lounge? Just where am I? The last thing I remember is Tesoro taking me hostage.

Looking around the room, I see golden decorations everywhere and a massive desk in front of me. That's when I noticed. I'm half attached to the room with both my arms and legs deep within the golden walls.

I need to get out of here, reunite with everyone and get the fuck away from this gold prison. The door to the room is underneath me. It opens up to reveal Tesoro. He walks to his desk without even looking at me. When he sits down, he grins at me and says.

“Our guest has woken up. Have you enjoyed your stay in my studio?”

“It’s ugly,” I reply.

“Lie to me all you want, but you know these walls are paradise. I guess you can't comprehend your luck,” he added.

“Luck? After getting kidnapped by a golden eyesore?” I replied.

“To be a trophy on my wall, only the most luxurious of pieces are here. Also, to be here and not like your friends running around, desperately to pay your debt,” he replied.

“I would rather die like a man out there with them than live here as a wall decoration,” I said through gritted teeth.

Tesoro laughed at that and added, “Let's make a gamble of our own then. Will you stay this strong till your friends come to your rescue, or will you beg to stay here at the Gran Tesoro before your friends can pay up their debt,”

“What's in for me?” I replied.

“If you win by a miracle, I will forgive your friend's debt, and you can take the three hundred and twenty million berries with you. But if I win, you will be my slave for the rest of your sorry life,” he said.

“I´ll buy some good booze with that money,” I reply.

“I can't wait to break you, Roronoa Zoro,” he replied before exiting the room.

I stayed there waiting for hours or days, wondering if Tesoro was planning on leaving me here to slowly starve to death. In the darkened room, I could only sense the smell of cologne and him. It's a suffocating thing. As the hours pass, I feel a strange burning sensation spreading all over me. It begins in my chest and extends to every inch of my body. My heart starts to pump faster, and sweat runs through my forehead. I try to ignore it the best I can, but with every breath I take the sensation grows stronger, and the temperature in the room continues to rise.

I keep thinking that my nose will get used to it, and my body will adapt to whatever makes it react like this. But the more I stay here, the more I can smell it in the air.

For three days, I stayed in the wall. With some meditation, I tried to keep my strength. My muscles remained steady in this position, and a puddle of my own sweat formed on the floor. Even with all of my efforts, my body betrayed me. A haze of need clouds my eyes. I crave release.

Occasionally, a golden tube will descend to try and give me food or water but I refuse to. After getting turned into a gold statue from golden flakes, how could anyone trust them with food?

Finally, Tesoro came back to his studio at the end of the third day.

“What a great show that was! It's a shame you couldn't see it, pirate hunter,”

I don't reply, as I am at my limit. My body can withstand three days easily without food or water, but this goddamn smell is making me mad. I need to get off this wall! If I open my mouth, I'm not sure what I will say.

“I see you are withering away while everyone else is out there enjoying your friends' adventures. It is the ultimate entertainment.”

“What are you talking about?” I replied.

My mouth is dry, and the words come out dry and slow, but that doesn't bother him. If anything, it makes his grin grow.

“I sent your friends on treasure hunt missions and live-streamed their misadventures for everyone to enjoy. The hottest new show at the Gran Tesoro, Straw Hats Adventure!” he replied.

I can feel my rage bubbling inside me when he says.

“I could show you if you want, under one condition,” he says.

”What?” I reply.

“You have to do everything exactly as I say when you are off that wall,” he said.

My body has been running in high gear for the last three days. Through the haze of the heat, I wonder if I should accept what he will make me do. I need to know they are safe, yet I trust them to be on their own. Before my brain can come to a conclusion, my broiling body responds for me.

“Deal”

“I knew you would be smart and agree,” he said.

The gold of the wall turned liquid and descended me onto the floor. I collapsed to my feet after days of not using them.

“What's the matter, a cramp?” He says, looming over me.

“Show me,” I replied.

His mad eyes looked at me with a twisted pleasure as he pushed a button on his desk. A Den Den Mushi descended from the roof, and after opening his eyes, a projection appeared in front of us.

“Incredible isn't it? A live projection of their adventure twenty four hours,” he said.

I couldn't listen to him because I was too focused on watching Luffy and the rest fight a hoard of beasts so expensive I couldn't see the end of it.

“Garuda Island, they have the strongest beast in the new world. A legendary bird capable of laying golden eggs is said to be nesting there. Bringing a batch of their eggs seemed like a simple enough first mission, don't you think?” He said.

“Luffy…”

A giant turkey takes Luffy with its beak and throws him off the view. The bird approaches Ussop, and I know he is dead meat.

“Now, for payment. You have to do as I say,” said Tesoro.

He presses another button on his desk, and a group of women show up at his door with a trolley filled with food.

“You have rejected every meal for the past three days. I have to commend your dedication, but we can’t have you dying out of starvation. Otherwise, our show will end too soon. So, I want you to eat,”

“I'm not hungry,”

My stomach betrays me and rumbles. Damn it. I take a spoonful of the saffron rice and shrimp they gave me; the taste is good, but nothing compares to the perv cook. If that twisted eyebrow freaked knew, he would never let me live it down.

“Good to see you cooperate. You know, I have a couple of collaborators near the island. They could lend a hand to your friends. Make sure they are safe on their mission if you eat a second plate of food.”

“I trust them to survive on their own,”

At that moment, the bird catches Usopp and throws him as well, but I see Luffy intercepting him mid-air.

“Gum Gum Balloon!”

They will survive on their own. I can't allow Tesoro to poison me with whatever could be in this food.

Then I noticed Luffy left Usopp drop, and I wondered if the second plate might be necessary at some point.

“Suit yourself. It's more exciting to see them struggle. In any case, What do you think of the food? The best ingredients in all of the new world,” he asks.

“Shitty, I have tasted better stuff from a pervert,”

“You will see it has an acquired taste. For now, enjoy it,”

He stayed there watching me eat. Like he said, with each mouthful my palate got accustomed to the flavor until my fork hit the empty plate.

Tentacles of gold stretch from the wall and drag me back to it as soon as the plate is off my hands.

“What the fuck?”

“Well, you said you only needed that one plate. Your friends are safe and sound, and know you are back to being my trophy. Ain't I a man of my word?”

“What gives?”

“What, you wanted some private time or something? Don't forget Roronoa Zoro. You are my slave now. I don’t need to give you shit. Every meal, every drop of water is a gift out of a merciful king,”

“Damn you,” I replied.

“If you want something in particular, and I can see what it could be,” he said, eyeing me.

“Then beg for it like the lowlife you are,” he added.

We stayed silently there for a minute. Then he broke the silence with a laugh.

“Millions of people enter the GranTesoro with dreams of winning a fortune. Like them, you too will succumb to despair. Try as much as you want to look strong, it won't help you in due time,”

He exited the room, and I lowered my head in defeat. By the time I wake up from my nap, they will be here.

Next Chapter >>

[buff-muffin]

Travelling Luffy modern AU:

A modern AU where when Luffy met Shanks as a kid he and his mates were living in a van travelling the country probably as some form of criminal but no one in the sleepy village of Foosha knew him. And it inspired Luffy to travel when he grew up. So after high school Luffy picks up random jobs saving money for himself and others to travel going on these grand trips over seas and when he gets back squats at a new friends place and finds a new shitty job to save money and does it all again. He tries to get all his friends to travel with him though it doesn’t always work out so it’s usually two or three of them.

And even in completely different countries Luffy just has a way of befriending the locals finding the best restaurants and activities and even making genuine friends who he is still pen pals with years later. So many times the craziest things have happened to him but Luffy never takes photos on his journey so Nami and the other Strawhats had made it their mission to document every bullshit lucky occasion because no one will believe him otherwise.

His car broke down? Yeah turns out the mayor of the city found them and helped them out. Now they regularly share animal pics. The random old man he befriended in a big city? Yeah turns out he’s actually one of shank’s dads and a criminal and while though retired is still conning a casino for their money and running from the government. The tall rando he fought at a restaurant before both of them decided to just eat and chill? Turns out his mother is one of the biggest gang leaders in the country and he is her right hand man.

Ace also travels but never as frequently as Luffy does now. He’s seen the big places and heard plenty of stories from his friends (the white beards) but is pretty happy in the city. So it’s always a pleasant surprise when the random stranger Luffy befriended happens to know is big brother.

It’s even funnier if you imagine that’s how Luffy meets the grandline strawhats. Like Robin was an exchange student staying overseas, he befriended and greeted her when she returned home. Chopper was graduating high school in a sleepy snow town and because of Luffy decided to head to the university local to him to become a doctor. Franky was actually a professional mechanic and after talking and a lot of pushing decided to make a better name for himself in Luffy’s town for a fresh start. Brook was an old professional singer who was stuck over seas they randomly found and decided to help out, renewing his passport finding his birth certificate ect. He now performs at bars and is working on a solo career. Jimbe was travelling for his own kind of work though after a few encounters with Ace and then Luffy, he found himself so charmed and in need to settle a little, chose to become a teacher at the local university.

The one time Luffy flew by himself because none of his friends could make time he ended up having to stay over seas for two years due to issues with his visa. By some fucking miracle Rayleigh was there and ended up looking after the kid helping him with his piss poor education, inability to hold a stable job and his own house. Luffy came home to the biggest party ever and while most of his friends graduated he started taking online courses while travelling got a share apartment with Zoro and started really cleaning up his resume and not quitting his fucking job every time he traveled.

Luffy just has the travel bug and a need for adventure and has taken all of the east blue gang with him multiple times on these adventures. Something always goes wrong but works out in the best ways.

[doomspiral]

writing patterns

rules: share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

Tagged by @bone-evidence tagging @chessna2 @lithugraph @proosh

There are more than 90 here even with a few redactions because some were multi-fic posts, oops. And even still! I have more than the listed 90 due to anonymous posts, deleted fics, and side acc fics. So this is even worse actually.

 "Come on man, you need to let this go it's been three years now."

    The way she says your name, her strange tongue smoothing out the edges into something soft and pliant, just like it does to the rest of you when she's found an activity more rewarding than pseudoscientific diatribes.

    [redacted]

    It's been nearly six sweeps since your lusus… died.

    The days have oozed past like a mold claiming a damp wall, the problem at hand growing worse, almost unnoticeable until it was already out of hand.

    After several hours of tests designed to be failed by most trolls who weren't him, a few interviews that were so beyond uncomfortably scrutinizing of various private aspects of his life he wasn't even sure they mattered or if the interviewer was just a gossip hound, and a whole lot of waiting alone in a bright, pristinely clean room, Kankri Vantas had by now gotten his fill of the so called Fair Cull Association and wanted nothing more than to peel the skin free of his own face.

    Warm, soapy water itches at your hands as you clean off the dishes from dinner, breathing slow even though you feel like someone sandpapered the back of your skull and keeps shoving you off tiny ledges one at a time.

    Whoever said the beach was a tranquil place to live was probably deaf as well as damaged in the thinkpan.

    Charles looked up from the paperwork littering his desk as he noticed the presence of someone who had seemed to be resolutely avoiding him for a few days now.

    The body in the sand looked, and smelled, like something she had seen one the few times she'd skittishly entered The Tilting Worm, something cut up in pieces and skewered on a plastic rod.

    "Definitely absolutely just a casual inspection that I do in every new lab, just been soooo busy, couldn't get to this y’know what with the uh, yeah, the stuff with the kaiju and all.

    Newt yanked at the cuffs of his new shirt with the patience of an enraged child, I.E. None, I.E. Fuck Hermann and his sensibilities.

    "To the ocean?"

    It wasn't that he wanted to die, exactly.

    “You’ve been having bad dreams lately.”

    Hermann ignored the sight of Newt standing before him, ignored the words he said, ignored the ache in his chest and the way his lungs felt like they would never expand fully again.

    When he got like this, he could wake up.

    The locals say there’s monsters taking the form of humans these days, now that they can’t get away with being big as skyscrapers, big as death.

    Normally the gears were well greased, allowing the machine that was Dr. Geiszler's mind to run smooth as it could at such a high speed.

    Not all stories have a definitive beginning or end, sometimes they just take place.

    They burst out of the casino doors at top speed, Leorio ahead of Kurapika as they jumped in through the passenger side door.

    The room was dark, like ink filled it up and bled out around the edges, lit sharply in flashes of white from the only television in the pile of junk that could possibly still play VHS tapes.

    The evening was still warm but the breeze was cool as Hisoka walked in the road in a neighborhood that seemed more run down than some of the places The Phantom Troupe had called home.

    It took Kurapika more than half his life to run himself well and truly into the ground.

    "About… Face!"

    The silence of the room rang out like a siren, the light dimming as Kurapika drew the shadows tighter around himself.

    He wanted to kill him.

    The subway train was empty except for the two of them, rushing down the track despite the faltering light, casting them into shadow more often than illuminating the car.

    Kurapika didn't drink, as a general rule.

    He showed up on Mito's doorstep with a baby in his arms.

    The hotel room wasn't especially nice, and the carpet smelled vaguely like mold, but he wasn't able to focus on how annoyed he was about that because Chrollo was currently kneeling on his arms, successfully pinning Kurapika to the floor.

    Time crawled and lurched, dragging him along despite the way his body ached and his skin felt fit to burn right off, or freeze off, it didn't want to make a decision on that.

    From the moment they'd met, Leorio knew Kurapika was a monster.

    It began with a start; Kurapika opened his eyes and looked around, not having realized he'd fallen asleep in the first place.

    "Where are you going?"

    It had been a month since Leorio "agreed" to not being murdered viciously and today the group was attending a small concert; a local choir in a small venue, something that didn't seem to fit Chrollo, who looked like he'd be more comfortable thrashing around in a mosh pit, or Phinks, who looked like he should be pouring beer on his head at some illicit EDM hideout.

    The Queen's Own Herald, Kurapika, was a master of his Gift.

    The sheets were chill and soft against Kurapika's skin as he leaned forward across them, thighs tensing as the lube warmed only as it was rubbed into the flesh.

    News reel.

    The force was not light or dark, it was just the force.

    As it turned out, women's clothing was much more arbitrary than it had any right being.

    The image of Death in the mind of the human race was, rather unanimously, related to the image of the dead.

    On his hands and knees, Kurapika was a target much harder to miss than usual.

    [redacted]

    “So blast a hole in their starboard, just because they wasted a shot over our deck doesn't mean we have to give the same courtesy!”

    [redacted]

    The letters were from a secret admirer, always.

    The heat was the more oppressive aspect of Kurapika’s return home, he thought, rather than the snapshot polaroids of the crime scene it used to be.

    Summer was always toughest on the tents’ vibrant colors.

    “Do you think he’s cold in that?”

    The hand around his mouth pressed tight to the flesh, but the knife at his throat was what kept him docile.

    Chrollo had always seemed to run a bit cooler than average, tapping out around 96 degrees Fahrenheit, while Kurapika always seemed to be running a low grade fever.

    The office was dark.

    Cheadle Yorkshire did not do anything halfway, and it showed in the grandness of the hospital she managed.

    “Don’t listen to them, they’re just being mean because you get so angry.

    The city is sinking into the waves.

    The grain in the fields has gone yellow-grey with desire for harvest, the wind coming in puffs, waiting for its chance to unleash the coming winter.

    The city aboveground glittered and heaved with the life it contained.

    "You would defend Mercutio's death in the name of literary communication.

    Kuroro’s knife sank into his gut with viper-precision and similarly backwards-bent hooks.

    Kuroro sat nestled in the crook of Leorio’s arm, summer air breathing down both of their necks like the hovering specter of Kuroro’s ex-lover; hot, humid, invasive.

    Air rushed into Leorio’s lungs as he clawed his way free of the blankets.

    Lights stabbed at his brain, sound turned his stomach, and Kuroro stumbled into the office in true living-dead fashion.

    The wake had been a nightmare.

    "-son of a bitch, why don't you-"

    "Because its an incredibly stupid request," Tolys crossed his arms and kept a firm set to the mouth.

    The world didn't stop when Feliks left home at fifteen to live in America, nor would he have expected it to.

    Tolys had wedged himself into the place where one chunk of rubble intersected with the remnants of a wall.

    When he’d gone to sleep, Tolys had been the only person in his room.

    It so happened that Gilbert landed a cushy desk job right around the time he was being threatened by his last job for sabotaging someone’s breaks.

    They ate cherries together in the window.

    Gilbert found him at the edge of the property.

    Well, he was sure that he wasn’t in Tsaritsyn.

    Tolys stared up into a dizzyingly white sky.

    Confectioner sugar across the white tablecloth, filling the curve of a painted plate.

    Giselbehrt had outgrown his Christian name.

    The uniform was bulky, moreso than Tolys really wanted to wear while getting intimate, but when he remembered Gilbert's shrill whistle of approval he found it difficult to keep a straight face.

    "All day?"

    Ivan was not a stalker.

    Tolys jolted from the strike, wrists bound but not lashed to anything, bent over the edge of the large bed in Ivan's room.

    All week Gilbert had been a mopey piece of shit on Feliks' basement couch, face down in a ripped up cushion chain smoking like god put him on earth to take the bullet.

    If the drive to the airport took an hour, waiting that same hour to board the plane felt like ten times as long.

    Gilbert had his feet up on the radio tower railing, lying flat on his back with a smoke in his mouth.

    Snow blanketed the ground and dusted Ivan's shoulders as he waited.

    Giselbehrt was tied up with his back ramrod against a sapling.

    The paper crowed about the victories against the little uprisings, stated a few numbers, interviewed one of the officers in charge who stamped out the worst of things.

    The bed was strewn with the signs of both a struggle and the planning that went into play like this; toys, tools, leather and rope.

    More than hunger gaunted Constantin's face as he stood in the road beside a seated Dragomir.

    "Yeah bro, I wanna believe you," Alfred's tone was disarmingly light.

    He’d always hated scribe work.

    Vanya: i dun think thas necessary

    There was an odd stillness about the house when Tolys vanished.

    Ivan ran his hand up Gilbert’s back until he could thread blunt fingertips through ashen hair.

    The two of them had been at it for hours.

    The farmhouse is large.

    It was a scandal even amongst their kind; a marriage in place of simple guardianship with someone still fat in the cheeks.

    That was the end of it.

    The palace grounds glittered with frost, and indoors from candle light bouncing of gilded furniture and cloth of gold embroidery.

    Since returning to Lithuania, Tolys had taken to solving his non-existent sleep schedule and inability to sit alone in his house by setting up shop in the back booth of some hipster cafe.