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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year ago

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Nobody's Girl - A Luca Changretta/OC Story.

Okay, okay! I got the message quite clearly that just a few of you are more than a wee bit excited for this, so regardless of the poll results, ya bestie over here is giving you the first chapter. Everybody gather round and meet Emily Jane. She shyly says hi.

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,224

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

Brooklyn, 1923. It was a dangerous place to be in certain areas of the New York borough, where bullets fell like rain and crimson bled plentifully into the gutters. Its misdeeds were becoming famous, the mob swelling like a well-fed beast, prowling the streets unleashed, snarling and hungry. In Brooklyn, the mafia were the kings, whether you, your mother, your cousin or the cops liked it or not.

It was generally advised that you did not protest.

Wiseguy compliance was safer than the alternative, and everybody knew it. When they came knocking, offering fistfuls of dollars to store barrels mostly containing contraband beer, gin and whiskey within the warehouses of legitimate businesses, the proprietors knew that you either said yes or you died. That money you were so generously handed would be earned back, though.

“So look, uh, you gonna be lookin’ after this cargo for us, right? That means there are gonna be certain guys on the street who ain’t gonna be too pleased about you working with us. So, what I’m gonna do is have a few of my guys lookin’ out for ya. Fifty bucks a week and nothin’ happens to your business, or your family.”

The story was the same for any other business within the radius of their turf, racketeering forced upon you whether you guarded contraband alcohol for them or not.

It was generally advised that you paid them the fifty bucks.

Of course, when it came to the families going to war with one another, there was nobody there to protect you, whether you paid into a protection racket or didn't. If the police were called, they generally – and purposefully - arrived too late, the large wedges of cash stuffed into their back pockets by whichever mob crew were buying their compliance ensuring that.

No, when the gunfire erupted and turned the silent streets into a bloodied cacophony, you knew there was only one thing to do.

It was generally advised that you duck.

On that particular chilly November night, though, with the threat of snow hanging heavy in the air from the thickened clouds above, one young woman opted not to duck. Instead, she chose to walk right out into the carnage, for it was perhaps the only avenue she could tentatively tread upon in order to save herself from hell.

The Changretta’s and the Calabrese's had been at war with one another over turf for months, disputes rife over what mob presided over which area, promises of blood come good after negotiations had failed, leading to the shootout between both crews in the dead of night.

Bullets peppered the air, tattooing the buildings and cars along the street, screams and shouts only just about audible over the thrum of heavy machine gun fire, men diving and dying left and right. The sins they fought and died for knew no difference, but somewhere in the madness, these men of bloodthirsty savagery had a line they would not ever cross.

The Changretta mob scanned the desolate street, high alert agitating their blood, neurons firing rapidly as they watched the area, looking, waiting for movement. The enemy had been thinned to what appeared to be nothing, their bodies littering the ground, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more lying in wait.

Luca’s unblinking eyes toured the darkness, daring to slowly rise from his concealed place behind the front wing of a shot-out Ford, each step crunching the shattered glass beneath his feet. Nothing. They’d accomplished the extermination mission sufficiently, not a single Calabrese goon left breathing.

“Boss! On your left!”

At his right hand’s call, Luca spun, directing his gun at what his eyes picked out through the inky night, a glowing light splitting the dark, his men beginning to fire.

“Stop, fuckin’ guns down, now!” he bellowed, his cadence rising sharply, way above his usual silky, rumbling drawl. “It’s a girl, you dumb fucks.”

She seemed to glide over the ground, her feet bare, platinum hair matted and tangled, the white lace of her dress torn and bloodied.

“What the fuck? Is it a trap, or what?”

Luca turned to view Enzo with a slight shrug, his hand reaching out to grasp his arm when he raised his gun. “Ah, aspetta, aspetta.” At being told to wait, his right hand once again lowered the machine gun, both Italians watching as the girl continued her walk, her eyes wide and dazed, her face bloody, purple welts marking her features. The closer she got, the more of them Luca noticed, angry and swollen upon her pale skin, the infliction of brutality tarnishing much of her body, a body that buckled as she suddenly fell, collapsing in the middle of the street.

“Ain’t no trap.” Moving out fully, Luca strode through rivers of blood and bullets, removing his long, wool coat, wrapping it over the barely dressed blonde as he crouched at her side. “Hey, what the fuck happened to you, huh?” He gave her cheek a few gentle slaps, trying to rouse her. “You with me? C’mon, wake up.” This truly wasn’t the time or place for damsels in distress. He had himself and his guys to think of before all else.

Her eyelids fluttered, blinking rapidly a few times as she came to, curling herself smaller. Her mouth opened, and Luca was sure she said something, but her voice was ghostly, so quiet he was scarcely sure she’d spoken at all.

“What? I can’t hear you.” He leaned closer, craning his ear, just about able this time to hear her words.

“There’s a bomb under your car. Twenty seconds.”

With widened eyes, his head spun round to where his assembled crew waited. “Move! The fuckin’ car is live, move!” Pulling her up off the street and into his arms, he and his men began to run, covering the ground rapidly. They’d gotten a good hundred feet away, yet their eardrums still all but ruptured when the TNT blew, reducing the Buick to an inferno.

They took cover behind another car, a car Enzo rapidly broke open the door of, cranking the engine into life. “Let’s get the fuck outta here, eh?”

So, it looked to Emily like she was leaving one set of wiseguys and going with another as the tall, slender man who held her jumped into the back of the car, three other guys piling in, the car shuddering out from its spot and being directed in the opposite direction to the blast.

“Hey boss,” Dante piped up from the passenger seat, nodding at the blonde. “Who’s the dame?”

“You know as much as I do.” He was just about to ask her that very question, looking down to see her head lolled over his arm, out cold once more. Whatever the fuck she’d been through, he could gauge it was a lot. Giving him the kind of information she had, though, information that had saved him and his crew from being blasted to smithereens, he wasn’t just about to let he be on her way.

If she knew about the bomb, then what other information might she have? The firefight had not exterminated all of the Calabrese mob, just a mere handful of foot soldiers.

Exiting the car on the corner of Third Avenue, Luca strode towards the doors of Bella Vita, the bar turned speakeasy he owned, the doormen nodding to him and swinging the doors open. He took an immediate right, the thumping blare of jazz music and patrons having a fabulous time hurting his still fragile, bomb-blasted ears, another large man employed for security purposes opening the next door he came to.

It closed with a heavy thud behind him, the wall of noise muted, Luca beginning to climb the stairs that led to his spacious apartment. It had only been home for seven months, since he had the former three dwellings gutted out and fashioned into something more resembling the comfort he was accustomed to. High standing members of the mafia did not reside in shabbiness.

His former abode, a sprawling townhouse upon the Upper West Side of Manhattan, was now solely home to his ex-wife and three children. For a quicker divorce from the wretched, screaming harpy whom he had once loved very dearly, he considered it a cheap price to part with for the sake of his sanity. Her alimony was also eye watering, but it wasn’t like Luca didn’t rake in serious bank.

He’d also never deprive Milania, Guiseppe and Alessio of anything. His sons were the apple of his eye, and his daughter, well, she was quintessentially daddy’s little girl. He just wished she had a smidgen less of her mother’s hot-headed temper. Then again, he supposed he deserved every ounce of it, not being a particularly good husband to Filomena.

Well, it was subjective, really. He provided for her, took her out regularly, bought her an abundance of luxuries from expensive jewellery to beautiful furs, but he did have somewhat of a predisposition for sticking his cock where he most certainly should not have stuck it. Filomena had all but turned a blind eye to his philandering ways, and Luca knew that was why he’d continued to do it, because she'd let him. She didn’t care, it seemed, so why should he?

Maybe if she’d have been the kind of woman to crack his jaw and tell him in no uncertain terms that he was hers and hers alone, he might have fixed up and adhered to the fidelity he’d promised her, but she never had. It went right over his head that this is what he should have pledged without the threat of violence in the first place.

The final straw finally drove her into action, though, arriving home earlier than he’d expected one day to find him in bed with two whores, one astride his face and the other riding his cock. There weren’t many women out there who could witness the man they loved in that kind of scenario and still continue to love him. She’d given him nothing but pure, unfiltered hell in the time between, Luca agreeing to all of her demands, just as long as she didn’t touch either his car collection, his speakeasy, or his home in the Catskills.

Carrying the mystery blonde over to the lounge area of the open plan apartment, he placed her down on the dark, oxblood leather chesterfield, noticing that she’d come round again. “You wanna drink, sweetheart?”

She nodded, beginning to tremble a little. “Hey, you’re alright. I ain’t gonna do nuthin’ bad to ya.” Emily doubted his sincerity, knowing wiseguys as well as she did. His voice was half salty rumble, half viper’s hiss, but each word was delivered with the kind of hush that made her feel soothed, she had to admit. The quietness of his tone made a nice change from being yelled at. “Whaddya drinkin'?”

“A water, p-please,” she stuttered, Luca nodding. He’d been offering liquor, but water he could do, too.

He paused before going to fetch it, crouching before her, studying her wounds a little more closely now she was under the brighter lights within his home. “Those cuts are nasty, doll. Who fuckin’ did this, eh?” He reached for her face, regretting it instantly when she shot across the couch, curling into a ball at the opposite end. “Woah, hey. Like I said, I ain’t gonna hurt ya. I just wanna help you, and for you to tell me what you know about the Calabrese guys. I’m guessin’ you know a whole lot, to know one of ‘em stuck a bomb beneath my car.”

She trembled, her eyes wide, her silence profound. “I’m gonna get you that water.” He rose to his feet slowly, knowing he had to treat her as if she were an injured fawn, everything slow and steady, save her from becoming furtherly spooked.

Caring for another, though, was somewhat beyond his usual skill set. Luckily from his own scrapes, he both knew how – and possessed the necessities - to clean up wounds before they became an infected mess, going to the bathroom and pulling out gauze and a bottle of iodine, returning to the kitchen to fetch her requested glass of water.

He handed it to her, moving to his drinks cabinet then and pouring himself a large measure of whiskey, returning to sit in front of her on the coffee table. “You gonna let me clean you up?”

She shook her head, spilling several drops of water as she lifted the glass to her lips, downing it in its entirety.

He nodded, sucking the matchstick he was chewing before removing it. “Alright. You gonna tell me what you know?”

Again, she shook her head.

He shrugged, a little agitated, but knowing he had to play his cards carefully. “I got all night, doll. Could start with your name, though, if the rest is too much to ask.”

She wanted to trust him. Hell, he could have simply dropped her from his grasp and left her there on the street, but he’d taken her with him, back to the safety of his apartment, no less. Of course, though, it was to gain information. Then again, if it was solely that, why was he trying to help her? Men who sought only answers to their questions seldom had the interest to clean wounds. Hell, they usually jammed a gun to your tonsils and told you to spill all as soon as they removed it.

Who was she to him that he’d care whether her cuts were bathed? Still, it took him a patient wait of just over a half hour until she finally spoke.

“Emily Jane,” she finally replied, swallowing hard. “Emily Jane Mortensen. Most people just call me Emily, though.”

He lifted his chin, pointing to her water glass. “You want another in there, Emily?”

“Please.”

Well, she had a name, at least. It was as good a start as any. “You know,” he began, long legs extending as he rose to his feet, walking back over to the kitchen area, “the Calabrese’s won’t do shit to you with me around. If that’s why you’re scared to talk, ain’t no mind, doll.” Returning to her, he resumed his seat upon the coffee table, handing over the glass. “Like I said, though. I got all night.”

Protection. Something she’d longed for, but could she truly trust it? She knew exactly who he was; Luca Changretta, the big boss, the number one apex predator at the top of the mafia hierarchy. It was either the very best, or the absolute worst place that she could have ended up. “Gino Calabrese ordered Joey, his youngest son to have the bomb planted, so that if the firefight didn’t kill you, the blast definitely would.”

His eyebrows rose a little, chewing the matchstick slowly. “And you know this how? Who are ya, to Gino?”

Finishing her water, she reached to place it upon the coffee table, Luca taking it from her, resting his forearms back to his thighs as he leaned forward, looking expectant. “Um, nothing to him, but to his son, I – well, I was his card counter. That’s kinda moot now, though, since you and your guys put about sixteen bullets in his chest.”

His lip curled slightly. “Card counter?”

“Yeah. I have a real fast brain for math, so technically I can’t ever be beaten in a game of blackjack. I won Joey thousands upon thousands at games all over, from Vegas to Reno. Illegal games, too. Women don’t usually get a seat at the table, but I got to, because...”

“Cuz’ Joey boy was partially sighted, I’m guessin’, right? You were his alleged eyes, but truly, you were there to tell him when to make his moves, amirite?”

God, he was very sharp. “Correct,” she confirmed, although Luca still looked slightly dubious, reaching behind him and grabbing something. He turned back to reveal a deck of cards, sliding them from the box and giving them a rapid shuffle.

“Show me.” Standing, he moved to sit beside her on the couch, dragging the table nearer and dealing out as he were the house, Emily moving a little nearer.

“Alright, so I mostly use the Hi-Lo strategy. It means if the ratio of high to low cards is higher than normal, the player can make bets that are larger when the deck is favourable.”

He noticed it instantly, how when presented with the opportunity to show off her skill, she unwound from the nervous, tense little waif he’d carried into his home just over an hour before. “How’d you know if the deck is favourable?” he asked, a frown knitting between his dark brows as he pointed at them on the table.

“You have to track the ratio of high to low cards by assigning them with a value. You begin at zero, then as each card comes up, you add it to your tally. Cards two to six have a value of plus one, cards seven to nine have no value, and cards worth ten and also aces have a value of minus one, so you keep adding and subtracting, betting accordingly. Watch. Hit me.”

He dealt her another card, Emily tapping it. Another was placed. “I’m holding.” Turning the other cards, he saw she would have won her hand had they been playing for cash. He made her do it another five times before he truly believed what she could do, sitting there with slightly widened eyes.

“Look at that, huh?” he spoke, gathering the cards from the table and returning them to the pile. “No wonder he kept you around.”

She shrugged. “Shame it wasn’t of my own free will. All of this mess I’m in, it was because I tried to get away from him earlier, so he took a set of brass knuckles to me. Wasn’t the first time either.”

He studied her face, his jaw tightening. Luca had few codes of honour, and not taking his fists to a woman was high upon that list. He hissed a breath, his eyes narrowing. “Fuckin’ asshole. I’m extra glad I shot the living fuck outta him now.”

Dropping her gaze, she folded her arms, looking at her bare feet. “So am I.”

Reaching for his drink, he knocked it back, truly feeling glad that Joey no longer breathed. If there was one thing he truly detested, it was a woman beater. He didn’t have much to be proud of in his life, morally speaking, but he had never and would never raise a hand to a woman. Ever. “Fuckin’ brass knuckles, Jesus above. I know how much those fuckin’ things hurt only too well.”

She snorted softly, her eyes finding his again, her heart doing a little somersault as she watched the peridot shards glint at her through the low light. Hoo boy, he was a handsome one. Deadly, but handsome nonetheless. “Who on earth is brave enough to take a set of brass knuckles to the famous Luca Changretta, and live to tell the tale?”

He smirked, rising to his feet. “Nobody these days, but when I was still comin’ up, plenty of guys.” Moving back to the drinks cabinet, he took the bottle of whiskey, turning to her. “You want another water in there, or somethin’ else? I got just about everythin'.”

Peering at him over the back of the couch, he felt his inside pinch a little. She was so tiny and cute. “Could I have a vodka rocks, please?”

“You can, but ice I don’t have. Gimme a sec.” He strode across the space again, heading back down the stairs, the sounds of music growing louder and then returning to the dull rumble, Emily moving to pull on the long coat around her, feeling chilly. It smelled of him. The woody, musky, yet slightly spicy notes of whatever cologne he wore filled her nose as she held the soft lapels to her face.

The sudden blare of music signalled his imminent return, the tall Italian appearing from the stairwell once more, carrying with him an ice bucket he placed upon the table, going back to the cabinet and collecting the whiskey and vodka bottles, pouring a large measure into her glass, dropping the ice in and handing it to her.

“Thank you,” she spoke, Luca noticing her manners were impeccable, also watching her face as it twisted into a grimace, Emily hissing before straightening her leg, examining her grazed knee.

He gestured to her injuries with a sweeping hand. “Gonna let me help you with that yet? You’re kinda bleeding all over my couch.”

In an instant, she looked horrified. “Oh, I’m so sorry, and probably your coat, too. I’m an idiot, I'll sit on the floor.”

He moved swiftly, shaking his head. “It’s fine, ain’t no bother, doll.” In truth, it was, but he kept that to himself. Blood cleaned off, he had to concede. This girl, he needed to keep her sweet in order to keep on feeding him further information that he sensed she possessed. Joey Calebrese might not have been high up within his criminal family, a street guy who was not yet elevated at the time of his death (and which was why, Luca guessed, he’d used Emily for her card counting skills to make the kind of bank his lower standing didn’t allow for) but being around them, she was bound to know more.

She was a valuable asset, and he’d treat her as such.

He picked up the handful of gauze and iodine, moving back to the coffee table. “It’s gonna sting like fuck, but you likely know that.”

She did. Bracing herself, she clenched her teeth as one by one, Luca dabbed each cut and graze with the iodine-soaked gauze, wincing, hissing at the burning, sharp sting. “Gonna be a little black n’ blue for a while, honey,” he drawled, his mouth tilting into a smile. “Still pretty, though.”

He winked, and it sent a spark through her, although the rational side of her brain told her that allowing herself to be charmed by a dangerous mobster was the last thing she truly needed right then. He didn’t make it easy, though, being attentive to her, looking as good as he did. She’d always had a thing for older men, and she could guess he likely had at least a decade and a half on her twenty-three years.

“So, you gotta home I can take you to, people wonderin’ where the fuck you vanished to?”

Home. It was a word she didn’t really have any true comprehension over, the place that to everyone else acted as a sanctuary, a safe haven, had truly been anything but to her. “No, I don’t.”

“No port in a storm, huh?” he asked, gently lifting her leg to rest upon his slender thigh, smoothing her dress up a little to reach a cut beneath. His hands were so hot. Yet another spark flared within her belly.

“No, no port.” She paused, meeting his eyes, knowing he was expecting more. “I’ve no idea who my father was, and my mother was a drunk, still is for all I know. I don’t have any siblings either so when I was eighteen, I left California and made my way across the country to New York. Wanted a better life for myself. It didn’t exactly go to plan. I have a habit of trusting the wrong people.”

He looked away from her then, eyes flitting to her knee, pressing the gauze onto an open cut. He was definitely a man she shouldn’t have trusted, and he wasn’t entirely sure why that suddenly prickled quite sharply at his conscience, but it did.

“You probably don’t trust me, but if you wanna crash here until you find your feet, you’re welcome to.”

She looked at him with big, grey eyes full of hope. “Really, you don’t mind?”

He sniffed. “Wouldn’t have offered if I did.” Placing the cork back into the iodine bottle, he moved to take a seat beside her again, picking up his drink. “Might be better if you do, actually. The Calabrese’s are likely lookin’ for ya. If you vanished and didn’t wind up as a dead body, and I didn’t get blown up, then it don’t take no genius to work out that you ratted on ‘em.”

Shit. She hadn’t even considered that. It was a fear Luca was banking on playing upon, and it had worked flawlessly. “S’okay, though, sweetheart. As long as you’re with me, they ain’t gonna touch ya. You’re fine.”

Was she, though? Emily truly had to wonder. She pondered over it for the rest of the night, Luca telling her she could go take a bath and clean up, loaning her one of his shirts to wear that absolutely buried her, telling her he’d take the couch while she slept in his bed. She tried to protest, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

“I ain’t exactly a gentleman in a lot of respects, but you ain’t gonna sleep on the couch. Nah. It’s fine.”

Was it, though? As her tired eyes fluttered, lying in the comfort of a big bed that smelled like her host, she truly did have to wonder.

#luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta smut #luca changretta x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta fic #luca changretta #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #nobody's girl #luca and emily #adrien brody

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dramas-vs-novels · 1 month ago

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Out of curiosity, what ultimately happened with Charan and Khanin ib the end? Do they end Ho together? Does Khanin chose to stay as a prince or go back to his life? What actually happened with thr king the grandfather? And even Ramil and Ava

Question edited and sent back to myself as an anon to remove a spoiler, but I will answer the spoiler part below the cut as well!

Question by @yumemiartist !

I know the answers to most of these!

What ultimately happens with Charan and Khanin? Does Khanin chose to stay as a prince or go back to his life?

Khanin sends himself into a sort of self-imposed exile (more on that with a later question). He leaves Charan and moves back to England with Thatdanai, to try to go back to some semblance of a normal life (though, with Tharin visiting as often as he can and still very much a part of his life).

Khanin keeps in touch with Ramil and Calvin. While he isn't really besties with Ramil, they have a kind of bruised friendship that will warm over time.

Unknown to Khanin, Charan spends the next 2 weeks wrapping up his life in Emmaly. He resigns from the guard and leaves his position at the University, disillusioned with Emmaly after everything that has come to light (more on that later). There is also something else going on- it's specifically mentioned Charan is diagnosed with PTSD after the incidents surrounding the King come to light, and he is carrying that with him now too.

Charan surprises Khanin by appearing in England, following him across the world. Khanin and Charan do not separate again. They get married, with Tharin and Thatdanai walking Khanin down the aisle. Chakri, Ava, Ramil, and Paytai all attend his wedding (Calvin/Jay are tied up with royal duties in Calvin's kingdom but send a big gift).

After the wedding, Charan and Khanin decide to move back to Emmaly, but in a house Charan has built with his own savings, nothing tied to the Pitakdeva clan or Assavadevathan (sp?). Charan will return to the university to teach, and Khanin will open a fencing academy.

What actually happened with the King, Khanin's Grandfather? Who wins the competition (you asked this in your comment, but the answer connects to this, so I'll answer here!)

This also ties into what happens with Ramil.

That gets a bit too much into the plot for me to be, like, definite or clear, I can only speak to where things are at the end, not so much how they got there.

The competition comes down to Khanin vs Ramil. Their scores are tied, whoever makes the next hit wins.

It *looks* like it is probably Khanin who was going to win, but as he's going to make his final strike, Ramil's father pulls out a gun and starts firing.

He kills someone whose name I wasn't familiar with (maybe the King's right hand servant?) and shoots the fleeing King in the back before he is struck and taken down.

Ramil's father survives, but it's a bit of a thorny issue to imprison a senior royal. So he is stripped of everything. His status, his possessions, his property, his money, and basically thrown out in a gutter (I think he does some BRIEF jail time as well).

Ramil takes over as the head of the family, and Khanin entrusts him with getting to the root of the King's evil.

The King has been embezzling money, having people murdered (he might be involved in Khanin's mother's death, not sure), and is found to have had Charan's parent's murdered when Charan was a child, all in order to seize control of Charan, and through him the Pitakdeva clan and all of their power.

The King survives the shooting, but the bullet severed his spine. He cannot speak or move, he can only control his eyes. He's essentially imprisoned in his own body.

Khanin (and the other royals) form a council that starts to sort out all of the King's mess and rule as a team in place of the disabled king (Khanin kind of leaves them to their work when he goes into his self-imposed exile, just thoroughly done with the royals).

I'm not clear on if Khanin was part of the decision and/or if Charan might have been, but the King's fate is a dark one.

Once upon a time, the King had the laws of Emmaly changed to allow him to build a psychological torture chamber. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all bright white, with intense light pumped in 24/7 without any break at all. The door is even white, and designed to slide seamlessly into the wall.

The idea is that a prisoner is trapped, his mind constantly stimulated by both the lights and a grating frequency that is piped in. Even when food is delivered, it is by people dressed in all white, the food as blandly colored as possible. No color, no break from the monotonous space as the prisoner's mind shreds itself.

It is flat-out said that it was created in violation of human rights laws.

The royal council Khanin establishes- again, Khanin might have given his blessing to this- has the King sealed inside for several months, trapped in his own body, unable to make a sound or move an inch. Only Charan visits him exactly one time, to say "Long live the king, so that you will be trapped in torment forever."

It's kind of implied that with Khanin's withdrawal from Royal life, Ramil becomes the head of the council (I think Tharin stays as head of the Assavadevathan clan to try to make things right, but does not seek the throne) and either the council will rule from now on, or Ramil will become King eventually.

As for Ava... I have no idea, she didn't appear in my skimming beyond being at Khanin's wedding. But again, I didn't read the novels, I skimmed for Jay and Calvin and any other knowledge was kind of incidentally absorbed, lol!

#the next prince #ask

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dotjpeg · 5 months ago

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now for Fox and Thorn’s personal captains, Serpent (any) and Kuusar (he/him) respectively. they aren’t that very well liked within the Guard and outside of it bc of their personalities & the fact they’re friends with each other, though Kuusar swears he’s nobody’s friend. like rest is under a readmore since it got a bit too long (won’t go into their friendship on this post though)

Serpent is mischievous & energetic, is always pranking/lying to people, and sneaking around even when he has no reason to. he’s shockingly insubordinate, to the point of coordinating (mostly harmless) attacks on Fox, and many wonder why Fox ever chose him as his personal Captain, but Serpent is scarily good at gathering information + less than legal things that Fox needs for my reason, and has no strong morals besides “keep x alive to keep annoying them”, and even that comes and goes. it can also be used for good if he’s convinced (or threatened enough) that whatever he’s doing has a chance of causing chaos in his favor, something Fox utilizes a lot. he’s basically Fox’s extra set of eyes & ears, but it’s a 50/50 chance if that means anything that day. officially though, he’s in charge of the slicers, coordinating/executing recon/infiltration missions, and keeping backup records of Fox’s “resets” (when CC-1010 fronts).

Kuusar is the exact opposite. he’s extremely serious, blunt/honest, and not stealthy in the slightest. He’s definitely got morals that he sticks to… moving on. he’s scary in the sense that he’s very strict and pushes the new men he trains too far at times, and doesn’t take any shit from anybody. he’s also got insomnia and has no way to help ease it atm, so his mood/attitude is constantly in the gutter and he looks exhausted/angry all the time. his health is also not the best because of that and he’s made too many mistakes lately, so he’s recently been forced to work with Serpent closely (though this is also to make them balance each other out, will not work that well) compared to before. he doesn’t trust anybody because he’s sure everyone can be convinced to turn on him, it’s only a matter of resources and time, but does care for his brothers and wants them all to live through and after the war, even the ones he hates. Thorn has him in charge of training/scaring the new Guardsmen, selecting for ARC training, overseeing missions the ARF Scouts take, occasionally reinforcing a certain amount of fear within civilians and GAR troopers, and managing most weapons the Guard has since he was a regular heavy weapons specialist before his promotion. the only time he’s chill and a bit wild (the knife fights) is when he’s drunk after having recently slept.

now for Serpent’s mental stuff. he is 80% convinced he died and was given a second chance out of pity to mostly do whatever he wants in the same shitty universe, this is due to having to fake his death way early into the war and be smuggled to Coruscant even before the clones implemented the “send unfit troopers to the Guard to hopefully save them” plan and getting way too into it, and eventually completely believing he died. he doesn’t confront that 20% (but is vaguely aware of it / knows people don’t believe him) because it results in moments like the attempted eye removal and severe depression, so the medics don’t actually think it’s a great idea to force him to or even gently nudge him towards reality until they can be more sure that they can truly help him. he is kept away from all Jedi & his past battalion, and has limited contact with old squadmates as a safety measure, but doesn’t usually speak with them anyway because they don’t get it + fear he’s gone crazy. it’s one of the few times he lets himself be upset and question his reality, but doesn’t linger on it.

#goddd. stayed up late again 💔 anything for the ocs though.#hate these two. I included Kuusar and Serpent in a fic already and honestly I need to do it again just so Fox starts needing a cig #clone trooper oc #clone trooper ocs #star wars oc #the clone wars #coruscant guard #star wars #star wars fanart #sw tcw #oc art #clone wars fanart #my art #scor art #not described

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exitrowiron · 6 months ago

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A clean start to 2025!

Although we have guards over our gutters, the pine needles somehow make it through the tiny holes and clog the inside of gutter and they get hung up on the heat cord on top of the gutter. This leads to my least favorite maintenance task as it requires climbing a ladder while carrying a ladder to reach the roof of the second story, then removing the gutter screens and clearing the debris so the snowmelt doesn't cause any damage.

My other tasks were much less irritating starting with organizing my part of the closet I share with Beth. My Mom would be proud of my use of the label maker.

And finally, the garage and cars got cleaned; I hate pulling into a dirty, disorganized garage. I removed and hosed off the car floor mats and washed and vacuumed the cars.

Now I just need to put the Christmas stuff into the garage loft and I will be ready to start 2025.

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ne0nic · 2 years ago

Text

Our Game

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Wriothesley x f!Reader ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

MDNI

ִ ࣪𖤐 Word Count: 5.2k

ִ ࣪𖤐 CW: NSFW, Dom!Wriothesley, Thief!Reader, Mentions of Human Trafficking, Drugged Tea, Slight Bondage

ִ ࣪𖤐 No use of Y/N, Never use of Y/N

The game is lively tonight and you expect to enjoy it in full.

With effortless grace, you move in and out of the shadows around the Court of Fontaine, becoming a phantom of the night. The deserted streets are a ripe playground, businesses closed, doors and windows locked, and the guards drowsy and inattentive. It's a realm of exhilarating opportunity, just waiting for you to claim.

Your destination is the side door of the antique jewelry shop, known as the last source of pride for an elderly proprietor. Your knowledge of every shop in the city is impeccable, following a mistake where you learned that it's unwise to steal from a Fatui-owned establishment; it's akin to pilfering from the Tsaritsa herself.

With a few deft movements, you manipulate the lock, and the door swings open without a sound. The shop's interior is as silent as a tomb, its owners having long retired for the evening. You enter, your eyes alight with anticipation.

You navigate the shop's layout like a child in a candy store, your gaze drawn to the glass cases showcasing a myriad of jewels, each one casting a beguiling shimmer. With nimble fingers, you open the case and select a ring featuring a sizable ruby. You slip it onto your finger, admiring the deep red luster. The ring itself is far from delicate, clearly designed for a more masculine hand – someone like…

You quickly remove the ring, tossing it into your bag. No point dwelling on such thoughts; it's time to collect your treasures and make your exit. You work swiftly, carefully placing necklaces and bracelets into your waiting bag, ensuring the displays remain untouched.

The unmistakable sound of heavy boots approaching makes you freeze in place, listening to the resonant thud of leather shoes and the subtle jingle of chains and cuffs. It's time to depart. You wrap up your mission with meticulous precision, and as swiftly as you had arrived, you vanish into the night. Peering from the safety of an alley, you remain silent, unable to spot the approaching figure. Even worse, you're uncertain of the direction from which he's drawing near.

Taking on the rooftop is undoubtedly the better choice. Climbing up the copper gutter pipe, you gain a sweeping view of the city from the high vantage point. From here, you can easily traverse the rooftops, leaping across buildings and making swift progress. As the immediate danger lessens, you descend to the streets below.

Suddenly, that distinct sound returns, the one signaling his presence. How did he catch up to you so fast? It's time for plan B. You snatch a dark cloak from a nearby stall and quickly drape it over yourself, making a dash for the nearest stationed Garde.

"Oh! Garde! Monsieur!" you implore, rushing up to the uniformed soldier. The young man, evidently new to the force, turns his attention to you with an eager desire to assist.

"Madame? What's the problem?" he inquires, clearly willing to help.

"I was just at the tavern getting a drink, and I think a strange man is following me! Please, help me!" You plead, ensuring fear reflects in your eyes.

"Do not worry, ma'am. I will take care of this," he assures, stepping around you to face the direction of the approaching footsteps.

"Oh! Thank you so much, Monsieur," you say, masking your sly grin as you slip away.

The guard stands firm, ready to protect the innocent young woman who has placed her trust in him, aligning with the oath to safeguard all citizens of Fontaine. His excitement is palpable.

A shadow emerges in the dimly lit street, advancing slowly. The young Garde stands at attention. "You there! I'd like a word with you!" he calls out.

The approaching figure steps into the light, revealing a large, menacing man. He possesses piercing blue eyes, is adorned with chains and has a pair of handcuffs hanging at his side. His coat is casually slung over his back, and a scar stretches from the base of his neck, disappearing under his clothing.

The young Garde recognizes the man and instantly locks up. "Y-Your Grace! My apologies! I mistook you for a suspect!"

"Suspect? What gave you that idea?" the man inquires, tilting his head gently.

"This young lady, she—" The Garde turns, only to find that you've vanished. "Where'd she go?"

"A woman?" he asks.

"Y-Yes, a woman. She claimed a man was following her," the Garde explains. The man, who moments ago wore a serious expression, breaks into a smirk and chuckles softly.

You've successfully ascended the tower, fully prepared to make your getaway into the cover of the night. Luckily, tonight's escape had proven effortless, and you hadn't even needed to trigger an alarm to elude the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide. He must be accustomed to your flamboyant tricks by now. The two of you had been engaged in this thrilling game for so long that you constantly had to innovate new ways to lead him astray. However, you'd come to find that the simplest tricks were the most enjoyable, especially after the sheer madness you'd put him through as you slipped away.

As you make your way toward freedom, a hand wraps firmly around your wrist, pressing your back into the wall. He looms above you, an unamused expression on his face. The way his stunning eyes seem to gleam in the dim light sends a shiver down your spine.

"Hello, darling," you taunt.

"Give it up. I'm taking you in," he declares with unwavering determination.

"That's what you always say," you mutter, causing him to grit his teeth.

"The bag," he demands, extending his hand.

"You're no fun," you pout, pulling the strap over your head and placing it in his palm. Wriothesley keeps you cornered as he opens the satchel, only to find it empty—no jewels, necklaces, or even a few coins. "Trouble?" you ask with a smirk.

"Where are the jewels?" he asks bluntly.

"What jewels?" you play innocent. He grabs your arms, pressing you firmly against the wall.

"I'm not in the mood for this today," he growls.

"But I'm completely innocent, Your Grace," you say with wide, doe eyes. "Little old me? A thief? Isn't it wrong to accuse someone without any evidence?"

"Enough!" he snaps, pushing you closer, your chests almost touching. You can feel the way his heart races, how you make him nervous. It sends a thrill through you.

"Or was there a different reason you followed me tonight, Your Grace?" you inquire, leaning forward. Your lips are mere inches apart. He tries to hide the way his breath hitches, but your smirk widens. "Did you want me all to yourself? You could've just asked. I'd never refuse." You tease him with expert precision, knowing precisely what to say and do to provoke him. You close the distance even further, his eyes locked onto your lips. Your breaths mingled so closely that your lips could touch if either of you moved even slightly. And just when it seems like he can't take it any longer, you pull away. "Forgive me, Your Grace. Sometimes I forget you're a man of the law, dedicated to your work. Surely, you're far too busy for me to take up any more of your time."

"Shut up," he snaps, closing the gap between you in an instant. He captures your lips, instantly stealing your breath away. His kisses are demanding, his desire to take the lead palpable, and you willingly submit to his commanding presence. His teeth graze along your bottom lip, eliciting a breathy, barely audible moan from you. You press your thighs together, utterly captivated by the way this man has the power to make you unravel. His longing for you has always had the ability to make you tremble, particularly in moments like these, when the game between you two reaches its zenith, when he finally catches you, and both of your desires hit you without reserve.

His hand raises to the back of your neck, tilting your head up, giving him more of you. He's going mad. He has to be. There must be some kind of spell or pheromone that you've cast over him, that makes him need you desperately. Everytime you're before him like this, his morals fly out the window, and his lust becomes so thick he can't resist. He's well aware of the moral dilemma that plagues him. You're a true criminal, through and through, and he's fully cognizant of the wrongdoing of his actions. However, he never feels the exhilaration of the chase as intensely as he does when it's with you.

The tranquil sound of water churning brings you back to the present moment. Regrettably, it's time for you to make your exit. Your fingers slide over his vest pocket, and Wriothesley's brow furrows as you withdraw from the kiss.

"Gotta run," you murmur, slipping out of his grasp and collecting your discarded bag. Wriothesley's brows knit as you head toward the boat.

"Wait!" He attempts to step forward but is abruptly pulled back. He turns, only to discover that you've cuffed him to the service pipes. With a frustrated grunt, he struggles against the cuffs, and something falls out of his pocket. He gazes downward, finding a jewel necklace on the ground. Lifting his head to you again, you turn back to him with a playful smile.

"I had fun."

"Dammit!" He curses, his bracers materializing on his hand as he strikes through his own cuffs. Finally free, he makes a dash toward the boat. But the ferry has already set off, and he can only huff in frustration as you slip away.

Again.

Your fingers trace over the ledger, where rows upon rows of names denote inmates at the Fortress of Meropide. However, none of them match the one you're seeking. You can't help but wonder how many trivial offenses landed people in this imposing place.

Infiltrating the fortress itself was a relatively straightforward affair. They treat their prisoners well down here, making escape seem an improbable feat. Most inmates are cowed by the mere sight of the glass barrier that separates them from the relentless ocean outside. However, gaining entry was an entirely different challenge. Infiltrating the Duke's office, that's where things get tricky. Luckily, your familiarity with the office makes the entry a minor concern, especially when you have a duplicate key at your disposal.

"I'm assuming you didn't come for tea," a voice intones behind you. His hand closes the ledger's cover and rests atop it. Veins course through his arm and hand, and his knuckles are rough and calloused. You push away the inappropriate thoughts that threaten to surface.

"Should I even ask how you got in?" he continues, but you maintain your silence, choosing not to respond. Playing along with him today is the last thing on your mind.

"Who are you looking for?" he gets straight to the point.

"An...associate of mine went missing a few days ago. I was merely curious if he happened to be in your custody," you reply. He picks up the ledger and moves to the other side of his desk to set it down.

"Associate, huh? I thought you worked alone."

"I do," you confirm.

"His name?"

"As if I'd give you that. I'm not here to further incriminate him; I need to secure his swift release."

"Then it seems I can't help you," he states.

"You've never helped me," you correct, to which he chuckles.

"Touche."

"I brought you more of that blend you like," you say, gesturing toward the cabinet.

"Paid for with the proceeds from the jewels?" he questions, a hint of darkness in his tone. You smirk.

"I don't recall any jewels. It's simply a friendly gift, a favor for a favor," you reply, reveling in how his eyes narrow at your words.

"And what favor have I done for you?" he inquires, already knowing the answer. He's trying to ensnare you with your own words.

"I'll prepare a cup for you, dear. You seem weary," you offer, turning toward the cabinet. He's beside you in an instant, gripping your wrist.

"I wouldn't trust you to make anything for me," he snaps, making you smirk.

"Do you truly believe I'd do anything to harm you?" you ask in a feigned tone of surprise. You notice the tension in his jaw and your gaze drifts lower to the scar on his chest, which barely peeks above his clothing, triggering memories of that fateful day. "...Anymore?"

"Go sit down," he orders, and you pull away from his grasp.

"Yes, Your Grace," you say as you step over to the table. Outside the window, the vast expanse of the ocean unfolds, with creatures moving freely, seemingly unconcerned with the curse that hangs over the people of this nation.

You can't help but envy them, particularly after the arrival of that blonde-haired traveler, which marked the beginning of a downward spiral.

"I would like—"

"Three sugar cubes, I know," he interjects, causing a subtle smile to play on your lips.

"What time will the Iudex be arriving? I'd hate to be a bother," you inquire, knowing full well that you've committed his schedule to memory. He sighs, realizing there's no use concealing it from you.

"He won't be. Monsieur Neuvillette had a sudden trial, so he's rescheduled for next week," he admits, an air of candor coloring his response.

"What a shame. That blend is best served fresh," you murmur, your gaze drifting back to the water. A few moments later, he joins you at the table, the gentle clinking of teacups and saucers filling the air. You eagerly pick up your cup.

"I must admit I only ever have tea with you," you confess.

"Oh?" He raises an eyebrow as he settles into his seat. He observes you as you bring the cup to your lips and take a sip. Only then does he feel comfortable enough to indulge in his tea.

"It's true," you affirm, setting the cup down. "I always believe tea deserves to be enjoyed in good company."

"You don't have any other good company?" he inquires.

"None quite like you," you reply with a smile.

"Your clever quips won't get you out of here, you know."

"You think I'm clever?" You tease with a playful glint in your eyes.

"I don't intend to just let you walk out of here."

"You never have, not until I was properly sore and had trouble walking the next day," you taunt, taking another sip, causing him to gulp down his tea. His hands clench as you speak.

"Enough. This... arrangement we had is over. I'm taking you in. I'll inform Neuvillette of your transgressions, and you'll face justice," he declares, his tone stern.

"And then I'll find myself right back under your vigilant watch. Is that what you desire? To keep me close? Ensure that we'll never be apart again?" You tease. His jaw tightens. "I thought you relished our little game as much as I did."

"Game?! You're stealing from people!" His anger is palpable now.

You roll your eyes, reaching into your jacket and producing a document, which you slap onto the table. He leans back, perplexed. "And what is this?"

"The justification you seek. The part of you that yearns to believe I'm not entirely malevolent, this is your evidence."

"I don't understand."

"You will," you assure him. The grandfather clock in the corner begins to chime, marking the appointed time.

"It's time for me to go."

"What?" he blurts out.

You rise from the table with alacrity. "Thank you for the tea. I had a lovely time." You begin to walk away, and he suddenly springs to his feet. However, dizziness overtakes him, and he barely catches himself as the world blurs around him. Overwhelming drowsiness renders his legs wobbly, and he finds himself on his knees, struggling to resist it.

"When?" he manages to mumble.

"It was your teacup. You always use the same one," you giggle. He exhales in frustration. You draw closer.

"Don't worry. I'd never harm you. You're just going to have a short nap."

His hand grasps your wrist. "Don't go," he pleads, his desperation evident. It ignites a spark in your heart, prompting you to sink to your knees, cupping his cheeks.

"Well, when you ask so sweetly like that, how can I resist?" you murmur before pressing your lips to his. "Listen to Siegewinne, dear. You've been appearing quite exhausted lately. But I hope you'll feel better when you awaken. And on top of that," your gaze drifts toward the document, "you might see me in a different light the next time we meet."

After a lengthy and exasperating lecture from Siegewinne, Wriothesley finally returns to his office. It appears that you were telling the truth; it was merely a sleeping drug, and by the time he awoke, you had vanished. He didn't provide Siegewinne with many details about your encounter, nor did he delve into any in-depth discussion about you.

He sinks back into his chair, holding a cool washcloth to his forehead. You had been here, well within his grasp, and yet, once again, he found himself incapable of fulfilling the very duty he had sworn to uphold. It frustrates him to no end. Every time you make an appearance, it catches him off guard. However, when he saw you inspecting his office, for a brief moment, he had hoped you were there for him alone. Alas, that's never the case.

To make matters worse, you've infiltrated his dreams. Every time he closes his eyes, there you are, bare beneath him, your cheeks adorned with a charming flush. Your hands tenderly caress his face, and he takes you with a gentleness and passion that starkly contrasts the reality of your late-night rendezvous. Normally, he's rough with you, mirroring your intensity rather than expressing love.

The thought of you alone is enough to stir his desires, and he curses himself. You had drugged him not long ago, yet he's back to square one. Removing the washcloth, he stares at the ceiling, hoping his little problem will subside on its own. He replays the recent events in his mind, striving to rekindle his anger instead of his lust.

"You might see me in a different light the next time we meet."

What did you mean by that? How could he perceive you differently? His gaze drifts to the desk, where the document you left behind rests. He leans forward, scoops up the folded papers, and breaks the wax seal. As he peruses the contents, his heart sinks.

The elderly man who owns the jewelry shop was using it to launder money from human trafficking sales. You appraised numerous items and recorded their selling prices. You even managed to gather evidence of the boats at the marina being involved in the conspiracy. Photos, evidence—everything is meticulously compiled within these documents. This alone must have taken you weeks. A small note is clipped to the last page, the page itself revealing the location where the captors are holding their victims.

Without jewels, there are no sales. I have bought you time, Warden. Do not disappoint me.

He rises from his desk, his mind racing with thoughts of what to do next.

The entirety of Fontaine's police force is mobilized for this operation, simultaneously raiding all the identified targets. Wriothesley, however, personally takes charge of the most significant arrest. With a sense of duty, he apprehends the elderly man, promptly handcuffs him, and pushes him toward the exit.

Outside, the ever-dramatic residents of Fontaine have congregated, forming a boisterous audience to witness this spectacle. The vigilant Gardes work diligently to keep the curious onlookers at bay as he escorts the man outside. His eyes inadvertently scan the crowd.

A sudden pause overcomes him as he catches sight of you. A sly smile graces your lips as you knowingly meet his gaze, and then, with your characteristic grace, you disappear into the crowd, leaving him with a sense of intrigue.

About a week later, following the court's verdict and the subsequent exile to the Fortress, you make a return. Leaning casually on his desk, you patiently await his arrival. As he trudges up the steps, his demeanor brightens in pleasant surprise at the unexpected sight of you. There's a trace of solemnity in your smile as your eyes meet his.

Setting his report down, he approaches you, his curiosity evident in his tone. "You've been gone for a while."

"I had some important matters to attend to," you explain. "The victims who were kidnapped are now under the care of the Spina di Rosula. Most of them are just awaiting reunions with their families. Convincing a few to testify during the trial was a bit challenging, but I'm relieved it's come to a favorable resolution. The Spina di Rosula has pledged to hunt down the buyers, and I've provided them with all the information I could gather."

"Why not have the Spina di Rosula collaborate with the Garde?" he inquires.

"You and I both know that would never happen."

"What now?" he asks.

"My job is done, and I've cut my few remaining ties. All that remains," you say, raising his cuffs, "is you, Your Grace." He takes the cuffs from you, studying them with furrowed brows. As you lift your hands toward him, he glances from the cuffs to your wrists.

With a resounding clack, the cuffs land on the desk. The gravity of this decision settles upon you, hiding within it the unspoken message he wishes to convey. Slowly, you lower your hands as he fixes his gaze on you, drawing dangerously near.

"You're making a mistake," you caution.

"I know," he responds before pulling you closer and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

In a matter of seconds you both burst into his bedroom, lips locked, jackets falling to the floor. Your nimble fingers are quick on the buttons of his vest as he backs you towards the bed. He pulls your shirt upwards, his rough hands riding up your front. Once one hand finds your breast you moan into his mouth. His ice cold touch electrifies you. He rids you of your shirt and pushes you down onto the bed. His gray vest falls to the floor leaving him looking seductively disheveled in just his black button up.

The tip of your nail fits between your teeth as you devour him with your eyes. "You're going too slow," you whine, reaching a hand out. Your fingers trail over his shirt, feeling every curve of his muscles just beneath the fabric. It has you aching for him. He reaches up, tugging his tie free from his neck. You light up, obediently offering your other wrist to him too.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you'd liked being my prisoner," he says, leaning closer as he ties the red fabric around your wrists.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," you tease, leaning in as well. His gaze falls to your lips before lifting your arms over your head and guiding you to lay on your back. From there he spreads your thighs, fitting himself between. Pressing your lips tight together, you resist the urge to beg. Even a small bit of friction would be heavenly, but it doesn't come. Instead he slowly strips your bottom half, taking his sweet time to admire your panties before just snapping them off your hips.

He sinks to his knees, lips caressing your inner thigh. Your hands find their way to your mouth trying to muffle your own weak whimpers as he trails towards your core. Where you want him the most.

Just as his breath ghosts over your aching cunt he stops. Suddenly his hand wraps around the tie and shoves it upwards again. "Do not move them again, if you do you can forget about my earlier mistake. I'll take you in, right now, like this," he threatens in a husky voice, eyes boring into yours. You smirk, lifting your thigh to rub against his hip.

"Like this, Your Grace? How scandalous," you tease.

"Do you understand?" he demands.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" He snaps.

"Yes, sir," you say, your voice growing weaker.

"Good girl," he praises, and you know you're soaked down there. Cheeks tinged red and heart racing as he sinks back down your body. He lifts your thighs over his shoulders before tugging you in one last time. Torturously slow he gives a chaste kiss to your clit. You resist the urge to pull your arms back down as a groan leaves your lips, your body involuntarily twitching. Wriothesley smirks at the display. It's as if he's trained your body to fall apart at just his touch, something he carries with pride.

His tongue dives between your folds, and you throw your head back with a sinful moan. The man below you is terrifyingly good with his tongue and fingers which makes his next move a damning one.

Two fingers easily slide into you, but he makes sure not to curve them into the place you like. Instead he watches the way you writhe, almost trying to force his fingers that way, the pleasure making you dizzy. Pathetic moans and whimpers pass your lips, music to his ears.

"Please… fuck— mh."

"What was that?" He mutters. "I couldn't hear you." His fingers slow to a cruel rub.

"I wanna cum. Please," you beg.

"Really?... I don't know if you deserve to," he says, his voice dropping a few octaves. The voice change drives you, making him smirk as he feels you tighten. "After all, you didn't tell me what you were up to. You worked outside the law, you could've gotten yourself hurt. Now, that… I just can't seem to forgive." He crooks one finger up slightly, sending you spiraling.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry! I won't do it again," you promise. He slowly rises to his feet, fingers still deep inside you. Wriothesley leans over your trembling frame. His hand caresses your cheek with a tender touch. The coolness of his fingers on your burning cheek is practically bliss.

"Now, how can I believe you? You've broken every other promise you've made to me," he says tauntingly. Fuck! You hate him. You know what he's trying to do, and he knows how desperate you are, enough to agree to any of his demands. He brings your diverting gaze back to his.

"No more secrets," you agree, making him sigh.

"Now, was that so hard?" He asks, pressing right there making your head go fuzzy. You gasp in surprise as his fingers pull you apart all over again, the familiar sensation pooling within you. Wriothesley presses his lips to yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth so he can still hear your gasping moans. "Cum, pretty girl." Your body shudders in the wake of your orgasm, and he doesn't relent, driving you oversensitive in a matter of moments. Your hands grab his wrist, stopping him as you still ride out the end of your orgasm. He smirks and pulls his fingers out. You feel the tie release your wrists.

He's gentle as he lifts your face, seeing the dazed, blissed out expression you wear. His lips peck around your cheeks, to your neck, to your collar, and them to your shoulders by the time your high fades.

"Back with me?" He asks lifting your chin, you nod and he slots his lips against yours while opening your legs again. He fits himself between them and pulls on his belt with one hand, something you don't mind helping him with. He chuckles as he feels you desperately pull his pants open. His aching cock springs free hard and hot in your palm as you stroke him. His forehead sinks to your shoulder as he shudders, slightly thrusting into your touch. "Shit."

"Hurry," you urge. Lifting himself up he positions himself so the head just barely brushes against you. You press your lips together.

Wriothesley reaches upwards, his hand sliding down your arm until he can fit his fingers between yours. Then he thrusts. His other hand grips your hip so tight you pray there will be a bruise. He stretches you open, forcing you to take his size, your eyes roll back into your head.

"Fuck!" You cry out as he bottoms out. He starts with slow shallow thrusts but his patience quickly wears thin. In no time he's snapping his hips forward, rocking the bed, shoving himself deeper inside you. It's predatory, the way he heaves, the way he takes, the way his fingers grip your hair and hold your head up to make you watch him fuck your brains out.

In practically no time at all you're cumming again, but he doesn't slow down, his own orgasm approaching as he feels you clench down on him. The continued force of his thrusts sends you right into a second orgasm and he follows suit. Your cunt milks him for all he's worth. Every drop belongs to you.

He belongs to you.

"Just fucking be mine already," he groans. His words break through your hazy mind in an instant.

"What?"

"Fuck," he mutters. "You're gonna make me say it outright, aren't you?" He leans over fingers brushing over your cheek. "Stay with me. Be with me."

Your heart feels as if it may beat out of your chest as he says it. His cold eyes are now strikingly warm and tender. But you don't know what to say.

Instead you reach up, hands pulling his face down to yours. He complies easily. You kiss him sweetly, whispering against his lips, "I'm yours."

Your confirmation makes his heart sing as he kisses you with more fervor, growing hard inside you once more. The first thrust catches you by surprise but you're loving it. This time there's nothing rough about the way he holds you. He treats you softly, like you'll break if he's any harder. He holds your body in tight to his, burying himself deep inside you, until you're seeing stars.

The clock chimes, marking the hour as Wriothesley opens his eyes. To his dismay the spot next to him is empty. He rubs his face, already stressed that you've disappeared like usual. Unfortunately, maybe he was foolish enough to hope for something more from you.

Sitting up he finally notices the weight on his finger. A ring, a gigantic red ruby within a thick band. The metal is dark and the design is intricate. Honestly, it truly seems like something he'd wear.

Peering over to your side one more time his eyes widen as he sees a folded up paper. With one hand he retrieves it and flips it open.

My secrets come at a cost, Your Grace. So, if you manage to catch me Thursday night, I might consider telling you one or two. Preferably over tea.

I'll be expecting you.

He laughs to himself, "So, the chase is still on, huh? Better make it interesting."

#wriothesley x reader

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sovaghoul · 3 months ago

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Distracting myself from being heartbroken with Ghouls

@the-moon-in-the-gutter and I have extensive Ghost-inspired lore that I've alluded to here and there. Here's a more complete summary.

Ghouls are deceased humans whom the Ministry summoned back to the land of the living. The Pit is not Christian Hell, per se, but an Underworld of the dead reminiscent of Hades' realm in Greek mythology, or the Norse Helheim. Ghouls are sometimes born there, but not often because while it can be a place of rest for weary souls, it is often also dangerous and violent (since all humans end up there together, the Pit reflects the sum of human nature but with fewer consequence). There exists a very specific ritual for summoning a Ghoul, especially if one wants to summon a particular Element and not simply whatever Ghoul answers the call.

Special was summoned incorrectly by Sister Imperator to be basically her errand boy and lap dog, and as such, he came back wrong. He worked a lot of fucked up Quint Magick to spy on the rest of the Ghouls, and because Omega sometimes also did interviews, he grew insanely jealous of him. He worked to sabotage Omega's relationship with Terzo, convincing Seestor that Ghoul/human relationships were wrong. So as an extension of that, he was instrumental in the deaths of the other Papas. Part of his fucked up summoning was Sister promising the soul of her child in exchange. Being that she had twins, she had to select one for Special, who was Copia's brother (we call him Vero). So, he's been hidden away all this time, partially raised by Special in all his fucked-upedness. But the deaths of the other Brothers still paved the way for Copia to become Papa, and Special couldn't handle it, thinking of himself as Sister's son as well, and not getting the recognition and status he felt he deserved and was owed. He felt he was not only her son and heir, but because of her promises, he also owned her and she should do as he said.

After Terzo's death, Alpha was there to help Omega through his grief, and they ended up mating (Omega recieved Terzo's blessing via Delta and Phantom, who can see ghosts and communicate with the dead). Alpha had suspicions about Special, and shared them with Omega. They plot to stage a coup and overthrow the current Clergy and have Ghouls in charge of the Ministry going forward. They recruit other Ghouls to help, and Alpha gets the satisfaction of flinging Special back into the Pit himself. Sister's illness that killed her in the Ghovie, was the result her constant exposure to Special's Magick, and they way he's been leeching off her for decades.

Another facet is the Sentry Ghouls, four Multi Ghouls who were summoned to guard the Ministry. They were severely neglected, mistreated, and isolated until after the coup. See, Special had also mistreated Cowbell, also jealous of him (and the attention Air gave him; Special wanted Air for himself, but Air only had eyes for Bell), so he influenced the pack to abuse Bell, and Bell ran away to the forest around the Ministry. (Additionally, Vero became infatuated with Special and once propositioned him, only to be met with disdain, disgust, and rejection.) After Special's removal, Air convinces Bell to return, they form a mateship, and together invite the Sentry Ghouls to integrate into the pack as well.

Afterwards, all the Ghouls start a return to their own traditions and beliefs and practices, rather than the human version of Satanism that had been imposed upon them. Alpha, Omega, Chain/Water (his name is Rho but he doesn't acknowledge it), Air (Epsilon, but he doesn't use it), Earth (Gamma, which he does use), and Cowbell (Iota), form a Council of Elders, each of them being the First of their Elements, along with Mist as the first Ghoulette (though she prefers to call herself a Ghuleh), and Cumulus as the pack's Queen (as Ghouls are matriarchal). They don't rule like the Clergy did, they just help to settle any disputes and are regarded with respect for their wisdom and experience.

The new Ghoul Ministry holds a farmer's market kind of event from Beltane (May 1) to Samhain (Oct 31), with public rituals, arts and crafts for sale, produce, teas, seasoning mixes, potted plants, and cured meats. The Earth Ghouls offer classes on plant and animal care, similar to 4H or FFA. At night, there's a carnival, with rides and games and fireworks at the end, and in the fall, they include tours of the Ministry, haunted hayrides, corn mazes, etc.. The Ghouls maintain their Glamours during these events, perhaps letting them slip a bit as scare actors. These open events also serve as outreach, especially the spiritual ceremonies; if a human seems particularly interested, they may receive an invitation to formally join and become a Sibling in the new Ministry.

And finally, a list of Ghoul body factoids that feature in the lore but don't have direct influence on the story:

Gender and sexuality are human things. Ghouls adopt our labels for convenience.

All Ghouls have mixed genitals, with a sheath for their cock/clit, and a vaginal opening.

Ghouls whose identity aligns with a human idea of men will unsheath much more often/prominently, and often display testicles. But all Water Ghouls have tentacles for their sexual organ, and all Quints are well hung, noticeably so.

All Ghouls can get pregnant, all Ghouls have g-spots and prostates.

A Ghoulette, who leans more feminine in their alignment, can and often do display breasts, mostly so that humans' perceptions of them will align with said Ghoul's (gn) choice of identity (they are aware of the social climate surrounding human gender expressions, even if they find the whole idea ridiculous).

After the coup, many of the Ghouls decide to wear less clothing, or even none at all. Nudity is not taboo in Ghoul culture.

There's other stuff specific to individual Ghouls, but that's the core storyline that influences our lore.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghoul headcanons #sova and jas lore

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henrysjohn · 2 months ago

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Gutter Cleaning Services: Protecting Your Home from Water Damage

Maintaining clean gutters is essential for preserving your home’s structural integrity and preventing costly repairs. Professional gutter cleaning services offer a practical solution to remove debris, ensure proper water drainage, and extend the lifespan of your gutter system. This summary highlights the importance, benefits, and considerations of hiring gutter cleaning services to safeguard your property.

Why Invest in Gutter Cleaning Services?

Clogged gutters can lead to overflowing water, which damages roofs, erodes landscaping, and causes basement flooding. Over time, stagnant water attracts pests and promotes mold growth. Gutter cleaning services eliminate leaves, twigs, and sediment, ensuring gutters function efficiently. Experts also inspect for issues like rust, leaks, or sagging sections, addressing minor problems before they escalate.

Benefits of Professional Expertise

Opting for gutter cleaning services provides advantages over DIY efforts. Trained technicians use specialized tools, such as high-pressure vacuums and gutter scoops, to clear blockages safely and thoroughly. They follow safety protocols to avoid ladder-related risks, a common hazard for homeowners. Many gutter cleaning services also offer gutter guard installation, reducing future maintenance needs.

The Process of Gutter Maintenance

A typical gutter cleaning services visit begins with a detailed inspection to identify problem areas. Technicians manually remove debris before flushing gutters and downspouts with water to test flow. They also check for structural issues, tighten loose brackets, and realign misaligned sections. Post-service, providers often share a report outlining gutter condition and recommendations.

Choosing the Right Provider

When selecting gutter cleaning services, prioritize licensed, insured companies with positive customer reviews. Transparent pricing—often based on linear footage or property size—is crucial. Look for providers familiar with regional challenges, such as heavy rainfall or frequent storms, to ensure tailored solutions.

Cost-Effectiveness and Long-Term Savings

While gutter cleaning services involve upfront costs, they prevent expensive repairs like roof replacements, foundation fixes, or mold remediation. Many companies offer seasonal discounts or maintenance packages, making biannual cleanings affordable. Regular upkeep also enhances gutter durability, delaying the need for full replacements.

DIY vs. Professional Gutter Cleaning

Though some homeowners attempt DIY cleaning, gutter cleaning services ensure comprehensive results. Professionals spot hidden issues like rotting fascia boards or pest nests that untrained individuals might miss. Their expertise minimizes the risk of accidental damage to gutters or roofing during the process.

Post-Service Maintenance Tips

After using gutter cleaning services, consider installing gutter guards to reduce debris accumulation. Trim overhanging branches and schedule annual inspections, particularly before rainy seasons. These steps help maintain optimal performance and extend the lifespan of your gutter system.

Environmental and Aesthetic Benefits

Beyond functionality, gutter cleaning services enhance curb appeal by preventing unsightly stains from overflowing water. Proper drainage also protects flower beds and soil from erosion, preserving your landscaping investments.

Conclusion

Investing in professional gutter cleaning services is a proactive measure to protect your home’s value and structural health. By ensuring efficient water drainage, you avoid costly damage to roofs, foundations, and interiors. Regular maintenance, paired with expert care, provides peace of mind and long-term savings.

#gutter cleaning #professional gutter cleaning #local gutter cleaners #residential gutter cleaning #commercial gutter cleaning #roof and gutter cleaning #affordable gutter services #gutter maintenance #downspout cleaning #seasonal gutter cleaning #gutter cleaning near me #best gutter cleaners #emergency gutter cleaning #rain gutter cleaning #clogged gutter repair

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sunshinegutters · 8 months ago

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#Remove Gutter Guards for Cleaning

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fandomfics · 11 months ago

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We're Strangers

Part 1 of 3

Ragnarok AU

Pairing: Loki x Fem Reader

Description: When Loki ends up stuck on Sakaar, he runs into you, an indentured servant to the Grandmaster.

Master List

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Au, Loki stays on sakaar and Thor never shows up. Implied sexual situations(light smut?), mentions of nudity, language, use of restraints.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Indentured servitude in the Grandmasters Palace can be absolute hell, but you find it a much better arrangement to sleeping in the gutters and barely scraping by. You are given fine clothes to wear, you are fed, and you have a bed to sleep in at night. All for the price of being one of the grandmaster's personal maids.

You spend your nights in a chamber next to his, awaiting the ringing of a bell to indicate he is in need of you. Most of your time is spent mending and making clothing for the champions, occasionally being called for refreshments or food for the grandmaster and whoever is occupying his bed that night. On the rare occasion that he doesn't have a companion, he calls you in to fill that roll.

The first time it happened you were surprised by the proposition, moreso that he actually wanted your consent. After that you always agreed, spending a night wrapped in his luxurious bedding, partaking in pleasures you rarely did otherwise. It was a treat.

For a long time your life in service of the grandmaster was monotonous, the rare nights with him were the only break from it until he took a new lover. The tall thin man is clad in green and gold, his long dark hair is slicked back, and the ever present mischievous smile on his face is wide. The Grandmaster clearly was obsessed with this one, he was the only one to spend time with him for months.

One evening you sit in your plush armchair hand sewing a garment as quiet music from an unseen speaker fills the empty space, an open window allows the cool breeze to wash over your skin and you shiver.

"Cold darling?" You jump in your seat, startled by the unexpected presence, sending the needle into your finger.

You turn sharply to see the Grandmaster's lover.

"oh, I'm terribly sorry about that." The grin on his face conveys the exact opposite of his words and you shoot him a cold look in response as you make your way to the small first aid cabinet.

"What do you want? You should have just rang the bell. You know how all this works by now." You spit at him while you remove the needle to clean and bandage the wound.

"I couldn't sleep, so I wanted to be nosey," a look of confusion contorts his face, "I mean, I want to find any leverage I can against the grandmaster to use at a later date."

You laugh as he continues to speak, "why can't I say I'm tired of fucking him, I want to take his title? Norns! I just want to lie to you!"

"Must be frustrating," the amused smile on your face elicits a probing glance from the god. "I must say, I find your confusion quite entertaining."

"What have you done to me?" He scowls

"Not a thing sir. People from my planet are... special. We can't be lied to..." A quick flash of sadness washes over your features before you replace it with amusement once more, but he caught it.

"Hmm, seems like a planet that I could use in my endeavors..."

"Have fun with that." You say turning away.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

An uneventful week passes before he returns to see you. He takes a seat in the armchair across from you and silently watches you work. You don't acknowledge his presence until he finally speaks.

"I'm sorry." His voice is low, almost too quiet for you to hear.

"What for?" You're caught off guard by his words, you expected more mischief.

"Your planet. Are you the last one left?" His eyes are... Doleful. You've never seen him convey such emotion. With the exception of last week's confusion, all you've seen is cocksure devilry play across his handsome features. You eye him cautiously, just because you can't be lied to doesn't mean that you can't be manipulated.

"I'm not sure. I was taken years before it happened, but I've never encountered anyone."

"By the grandmaster?"

"No, I just ended up on this trash planet sometime after. "

"Hmm." He shifts in his seat as he thinks, bringing a hand up to rub his chin. "Why didn't you tell him what I said?"

You shrug, "No one has ever been successful, didn't think it mattered."

"I like a challenge." he smirked "oh, how rude of me, I never introduced myself. Loki, god of mischief." He bows his head to you.

"I am well aware of who you are." You chuckle before giving him your name.

"Beautiful name, it suits you." He says before repeating your name slowly, savoring it like the last sweet in the box. He is clearly trying to charm you, but for what you don't know.

"What is it that you want from me Loki?"

"Just your friendship. Nothing more." His eyes light up with his smile, "it's getting awfully dull around here while I bide my time."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Four months pass and Loki still has the affections of the Grandmaster. Every night after he falls asleep Loki finds his way to the chair opposite of you. You share your lives with each other, stories of your past, hopes for your future. A friendship blooms.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Do you actually want to take the grandmasters place?"

"What?"

"Its been months, you haven't really spoken to me about it since the first time we talked."

"Well of course dear," he becomes ever so slightly sheepish "I just don't want to ruin our friendship by asking for your assistance in the matter. I've kept you out of it, if this fails he doesn't need a reason to punish you as well."

"Aww, the god of mischief has a friend that he cares for?" You tease him with a wide grin.

"Oh hush. Consider yourself lucky. Few have been so honored as to be this close to me and have my full respect." The scowl on his face breaks quickly when you laugh, and he follows suit.

"I would help you, you know? If you asked."

"No, I couldn't." He sighs "You really are too dear to me."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You look troubled. What's going on?" Another few months have passed and you've continued your routine with Loki.

"I think the head of archives has figured out what I'm planning." His brow furrows and he pinches the bridge of his nose screwing his eyes shut tight.

"Let me help you, please? I could just go down and ask them a few questions, just make sure you're clear." You offer hopefully, at this point you've grown very close, and all you want to do is help him.

His eyes shoot open and he searches your gaze for a moment. "No," he shakes his head as if to push the thought away. "I told you, I can't let you. I'll find a way through it. Don't worry about me darling."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next morning when your shift is over you immediately head to the archives. Loki is going to get your help whether he likes it or not.

You've encountered the being he's talked about before. A large humanoid that stands a solid 8 feet tall with grey skin and antlers. They can be intimidating when necessary, but they know you are a personal servant to the grandmaster himself.

"Shill! How are we today?" You greet them as you normally would.

"Can't complain," their gravelly voice echoes in the wide expanse of the archive. "What do you need today?"

"Just a quick task. Need to ask if you've heard or seen anything suspicious lately. You know the song and dance. Been a while since someone attempted a coup, think the man's a little on edge." You whisper the last part.

"Nah, nothin' on that front." They say with a chuckle, "You'll be the first to know if I hear anything."

"Thanks Shill, I appreciate it." You say with a smile, slapping the desk before you leave.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I have good news for you!" A smile lights up your face when Loki sits in his chair.

"Do you?" His curiosity is peaked as he looks to you.

"Shill has no idea what you're up to."

"I told you I didn't want you involved," he buries his face in his hands in exasperation.

"I wanted to, and I'm glad did. I can do more."

"Norns, you are stubborn." He looks up to you, "No, I'm almost ready, I don't need your help."

"Too bad." Defiance drips from your words, "If you don't give me something to do I might get myself into trouble trying to figure out how to help you."

"Fine." He thinks for a moment before speaking again. "I need to get into his private study for one last thing. Would you be able to keep him occupied for a time?"

"Well, when his bed is empty he asks for my company. Maybe you take a night to yourself. I can keep his night busy while you make your way in."

"Perfect. Here's the plan, I will make my way into the room at my usual time, just before he arrives, and hide myself away. I will speak to him with a sort of doppelganger of myself to reject him for the night, and the other me will leave the room. Once he has you in, you keep him distracted so I can grab the key to get in and out. Then I can hide out in your chamber until everything is clear."

"Wow, you already planned this out? I thought you didn't want me to help you?"

"I was going to find someone else to fuck him, but if you're offering..." He shrugs.

"That's settled then. When do we set this plan in motion sir?" You say in mock seriousness.

"Tomorrow night."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Large room that houses the Grandmasters chamber is lit to set a mood, the warm dark colors on the walls and wood floors make the atmosphere cozy even in the massive space. The walls house floor to ceiling shelves of books and trinkets from all over the universe. His four poster bed sits in the center on a raised platform, and here is where you sit.

Nude, you straddle the Grandmaster, his limbs are tied to the bed posts, a silky blindfold covering his eyes.

"God's your cock is huge sir!" You scream out, giving Loki the signal to begin.

From your vantage point you can see him making his way to the discarded set of keys on a shelf, when he is ready to grab the keys you make eye contact with him and let out a loud moan to drown out any noise they might make. You see Loki's eyes quickly flit to your bouncing breasts and his jaw visibly tightens before he begins to move again.

His approach to the door signals your next move. You remove yourself, from the bed, much to the grandmasters discontent, moving around the room playing dumb.

"I think I need to find that delicious little toy you got off world, you know the one, makes it look like I have a tail."

He hums in approval before telling you exactly where it resides. You open and close random drawers, making him wait several minutes, giving Loki just enough time to slip in and out of the study before returning to your chamber.

"Ugh, you're such a tease!" The grandmaster says desperately before begging you to return. With Loki's mission safely accomplished you get what you were looking for and spend the rest of the night in pleasure.

At the break of dawn you return to your room to find Loki still there, his face is etched with anger.

"Did you get what you needed?"

"Yes." He replies curtly.

"Then why do you look like you want to murder someone?"

He stands and makes his way across the room, standing right in front of you. "Because I do." He whispers.

You're speechless, wondering what he means exactly until he continues.

"I don't like the thought of him touching you, let alone what you were doing to him." He turns around leaving you confused. You place your hand on his shoulder, touching him for the first time since you met all those months ago. He feels... electric.

"What are you talking about?"

"Seeing you with him made me realize something. I didn't know exactly how much I wanted you until it was clear that you aren't mine." He turns to face you again, "but I have to tell you some-" he is interrupted when you close the distance and your lips crash into his. He's momentarily startled before his hands cup your cheeks and pulls out of the kiss. The confusion in your eyes makes way for fear before you push yourself away and immediately start apologizing.

"I thought you meant-" you start frantically before he grabs your face again to speak to you.

"I did," he sighs, "but I don't want this to go any further until I've told you the truth."

"What do you mean? You can't lie to me..."

"I uh...I found a way to." He releases the hold on your face and returns to his chair. His hands run through his hair and he looks to the ground with a deep sigh.

"My doppelgangers. If I'm not in the room with you physically, I can-I can lie to you."

"So everything was bullshit." You say flatly.

"Yes... No. I mean, the only thing I really lied about was not wanting your help. I wanted to get close to use your talents to aid me in my quest, but I was- I am your friend. Your friendship is important to me... You are important to me." He finally lifts his eyes to meet yours and sees the tears streaming down your face.

"I don't want to see you ever again. We're Strangers and nothing more."

"I understand. I'll respect your wishes." Before he can leave you return to the Grandmasters chamber and climb back into the bed.

"Where'd you go?" He turns over sleepily before pulling you to him.

"I need to tell you something."

"Can it wait until after we go another round?" He teases as he grips your ass and grinds against you.

"No. Loki is planning something. He wants to replace you." He releases his grip on you and sits up suddenly wide awake.

"How do you know?"

"He's been coming into my chambers to see me on occasion. Just to talk... I just found him in my chamber when I went in to get a drink. He wanted my help and confessed to me." The hurt you feel from Loki's betrayal masks any guilt you feel for exposing him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The grandmaster immediately sends his guards to find the god, but he's gone. A new lover has taken his place, and everything has returned to how it was before. The only difference being the numbness you feel.

#fanfic #mdni #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #Ragnarok #Thor #marvel #mcu #au #fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #sakaar

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greentechpropertycare · 2 years ago

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The Ultimate Nanaimo Cleaning Guide: Restore Your Home's Exterior!

Your home's outside needs maintenance just as much as its inside does. In addition to raising the property's overall curb attractiveness, it also provides safety. Maintaining the exterior of your property not only enhances its curb appeal but also helps protect and extend its lifespan. By hiring the best concrete driveway sealer, you can extend the life of your driveway while enhancing its appearance.By entrusting these tasks to experts, you can ensure that your property remains clean, attractive, and well-maintained.

What Does a Driveway Sealer for Concrete Do?

House Cleaning Outside:

If you wash your home's exterior often, it will appear a lot nicer. Over time, the surfaces may become weathered, filthy, and unclean, giving them a worn-out look. In order to restore the luster and vibrancy of your home's exterior, exterior house washing utilize specialized techniques and cleaning products. This enhances curb appeal and preserves the integrity of the structural elements Maintaining a clean and appealing exterior is essential for both residential and commercial properties. Exterior house washing services in Nanaimo specialize in deep-cleaning the exteriors of buildings, including vinyl, stucco, brick, and stone surfaces.

Pressure Washing:

Over time, exterior surfaces, such as siding, decks, patios, and walkways, accumulate dirt, grime, mold, and mildew. Regular pressure washing is an effective solution to restore the pristine condition of these surfaces. Pressure washing Nanaimo offers professional pressure washing services that utilize powerful equipment and environmentally friendly cleaning agents to remove stubborn stains and debris. These experts can revitalize your property's exterior, leaving it looking fresh and well-maintained. Whether you need to clean your home's siding, deck, or driveway, pressure washing in Nanaimo can help you achieve outstanding results.

Gutter and Roof Cleaning:

Your roof and gutters are two of your home's defenses against water damage. Over time, the buildup of garbage, moss, algae, and leaves in the gutters and on the roof can cause leaks and water penetration, among other issues. In order to ensure the greatest performance and lifespan of your roofing system, professional roof and gutter cleaning Nanaimo can safely and effectively remove these contaminants. Regular maintenance and cleaning can help your roof last longer and prevent more costly future repairs.

A well-maintained lawn adds charm and value to any property. In Nanaimo, you can find lawn maintenance Nanaimo services that offer a range of services, including mowing, trimming, fertilization, and weed control. These professionals have the knowledge and equipment to keep your lawn healthy and vibrant throughout the year.

Final Words

In Nanaimo, a variety of professional services cater to your property's maintenance needs, from best concrete driveway sealer to pressure washing, exterior house washing, and lawn maintenance. By relying on experts in these fields, you can enhance your property's overall appeal, protect its structural integrity, and enjoy a well-maintained and visually pleasing environment. Whether you require a concrete driveway sealer, pressure washing services, or lawn maintenance, Nanaimo has a range of trusted professionals ready to assist you in achieving the desired results. Invest in these services to ensure that your property remains beautiful, functional. for more information visit us - https://greentechpropertycarevi.com/

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lastimeexteriors-nebraska · 2 months ago

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How do I protect my asphalt roof from tree damage?

Imagine this: a strong windstorm rattles your neighborhood, and the next morning, you discover a large tree branch lying across your asphalt roof. Not only does it look alarming, but it could also lead to leaks, structural issues, or costly repairs. Over time, even smaller, seemingly harmless branches or falling leaves can take a toll on your roof. It’s a scenario many homeowners face, and it highlights the importance of protecting your asphalt roof from tree damage.

Your roof is one of your home’s most vital defenses against the elements. It safeguards your property from rain, snow, and sun while contributing to curb appeal and overall value. When trees are nearby, they bring beauty and shade—but they also introduce risks. Proper care, along with help from a reliable asphalt roofing contractor, can keep your roof in top condition and shield it from the impact of trees.

If you’re worried about finding the right contractor to help protect or repair your roof, don’t worry. With some thoughtful steps and insider tips, selecting a trustworthy professional becomes an easy and manageable task. This guide will walk you through everything you need to know, from the dangers trees pose to your roof to how to choose a contractor who can ensure long-term durability and peace of mind.

The Risks Trees Pose to Asphalt Roofs

Trees offer shade, boost property value, and provide environmental benefits, but they can also spell trouble for your asphalt roof. Here are the primary risks:

Overhanging Branches: Branches that touch or hang too close to the roof can scratch and erode shingles over time, especially during windy weather. This can shorten the lifespan of your asphalt roof and increase the risk of leaks.

Falling Debris: Leaves, pine needles, and small twigs can collect on the roof, holding moisture that leads to mold, algae growth, and shingle degradation. Clogged gutters from this debris can cause water to back up and seep under your roofing materials.

Falling Trees or Large Branches: Weak or diseased trees may topple during storms, causing significant damage to the roof's structure. A heavy branch can puncture shingles and even the roof deck, requiring immediate and costly repairs.

Steps to Protect Your Asphalt Roof from Tree Damage

The good news is that you can prevent most tree-related roofing problems with proactive maintenance and care. Here’s what you can do:

1. Regular Tree Maintenance

Trim Overhanging Branches: Keep tree branches at least 6–10 feet away from your roof. This prevents scratching, reduces falling debris, and minimizes the chance of damage during storms.

Inspect Tree Health: Periodically check for signs of disease, decay, or instability, such as cracks in the trunk, dead branches, or fungal growth. If you’re unsure, hire an arborist to assess and prune trees safely.

Remove Hazardous Trees: If a tree poses a risk due to its proximity, size, or health, consider removing it altogether.

2. Clean and Maintain Your Roof and Gutters

Remove Debris: Regularly clear leaves, twigs, and dirt from your roof to prevent moisture retention and weight buildup.

Install Gutter Guards: These help prevent clogs, ensure proper water drainage, and reduce the risk of water damage.

Check for Damage: Inspect your roof for missing shingles, cracks, or weak spots that could worsen if debris or branches strike.

3. Schedule Professional Roof Inspections

Seasonal Inspections: Hire a roofing professional to examine your roof at least twice a year. They can catch early signs of wear or damage and suggest timely fixes.

Post-Storm Checks: After severe weather, arrange for an inspection to ensure no hidden issues are caused by falling branches or debris.

4. Strengthen Your Roof Against Impacts

Reinforce Vulnerable Areas: Ensure your roof's flashing, vents, and edges are properly sealed and reinforced to withstand tree-related wear and tear.

Choose Durable Shingles: Consider impact-resistant asphalt shingles for added durability against falling branches.

How to Choose a Reliable Asphalt Roofing Contractor

Protecting your asphalt roof from tree damage often requires the expertise of a professional contractor. Here’s how to find one you can trust:

1. Research Local Contractors

Focus on Local Expertise: Contractors familiar with your area understand regional weather patterns and building codes, making them better equipped to handle your roofing needs.

Look for Asphalt Roofing Specialists: Not all roofing contractors are experienced with asphalt shingles. Choose one with a strong track record in this material.

2. Verify Credentials

Check Licensing and Insurance: A legitimate contractor should hold the appropriate licenses and carry insurance to cover accidents or damage.

Confirm Certifications: Some contractors are certified by shingle manufacturers, which means they’ve met high standards of quality and training.

3. Check Reviews and References

Read Online Reviews: Look for consistent positive feedback on platforms like Google, Yelp, or the Better Business Bureau. Pay attention to how the contractor handles complaints.

Ask for References: Request contact information for past clients and ask about their experiences. Did the contractor complete the project on time and within budget?

4. Evaluate Experience and Expertise

Years in Business: A contractor with a long history of service is likely to have a proven reputation for reliability.

Review Portfolios: Ask to see photos of completed asphalt roofing projects to gauge the quality of their work.

5. Compare Quotes and Warranties

Get Written Estimates: Request detailed estimates from multiple contractors. This should include costs for materials, labor, permits, and any additional charges.

Understand Warranties: Look for a workmanship warranty (typically at least 10 years) and a manufacturer’s warranty for the materials used.

6. Ask Key Questions

When consulting with potential contractors, ask:

What safety measures do you take during roof repairs or installations?

How long will the project take from start to finish?

Do you offer emergency services for storm damage?

Benefits of Choosing the Right Contractor

Hiring a skilled contractor is about more than just fixing or replacing a roof—it’s an investment in your home’s future. A reliable contractor will:

Use high-quality materials that withstand the elements and tree-related challenges.

Provide expert advice on roof maintenance and tree management to prevent future damage.

Deliver peace of mind, knowing the work is done safely and to a high standard.

Your asphalt roof plays a vital role in safeguarding your home, and protecting it from tree damage is a key part of preserving its integrity. By maintaining nearby trees, keeping your roof and gutters clean, and addressing potential issues early, you can minimize risks and extend your roof’s lifespan.

When it’s time to hire a contractor, remember that thorough research and thoughtful questions can help you find the right professional. Verify credentials, read reviews, and compare estimates to ensure you’re making an informed choice.

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nirbobharvey · 7 months ago

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My Roof is Leaking – Causes and Solutions

Keep roof leaks from causing costly structural damage and leaving you with ruined possessions. Understanding what causes residential roof leaks will help you resolve them before becoming an issue.

New Image Roofing Atlanta gathered information about what causes residential roof leaks, how to fix or prevent them, how a maintenance program benefits you, and when to call your roofer.

Roof Leak Causes and Their Solutions

A leaky roof is a concerning issue for homeowners, as it can lead to structural damage, mold growth, and costly repairs if not addressed. Understanding common roof leak causes and their solutions is essential for maintaining your home’s integrity. Consider the following:

1. Missing Shingles

Shingles protect your roof by creating a water-resistant barrier. Strong winds, heavy rain, or age-related wear can cause shingles to come loose, warp, or fall off, exposing the underlying layers to water.

Solution – Replace missing or damaged shingles promptly. Ensure that new shingles match the existing material to maintain a uniform appearance and functionality. Regular inspections, especially after storms, can help identify missing shingles before significant damage occurs.

2. Bad Flashing

Flashing seals roof transitions, like where the roof meets a chimney or skylight. Over time, flashing can corrode, crack, or separate, leaving gaps that allow water to seep through.

Solution – Inspect and repair damaged flashing by applying a waterproof sealant or replacing it entirely. Proper installation during initial construction or repair is essential for long-lasting performance.

3. Faulty Penetration Boots

Penetration boots are rubber seals installed around roof penetrations, like vents and pipes, to prevent leaks. Over time, these boots can crack, degrade, or pull away from the pipe.

Solution – Replace worn or damaged penetration boots with new ones. Ensure they are sealed to prevent water infiltration. Adding a metal storm collar over the boot can provide additional protection.

4. Branch or Limb Damage

Falling branches or overhanging limbs can puncture or scrape the roof surface, leading to leaks. This damage commonly occurs during storms or high winds.

Solution – Trim trees regularly to keep branches away from the roof. If a branch damages your roof, assess the extent of the damage and repair or replace the affected area immediately. Install protective roofing materials that resist impact damage.

5. Mold and Algae Growth

Mold, moss, or algae can grow on roof surfaces, especially in damp or shaded areas. These organisms trap moisture against the roof and weaken the materials over time.

Solution – Clean the roof regularly using a gentle, non-abrasive cleaning solution. Install zinc or copper strips to inhibit future growth. Ensure your roof has adequate ventilation to minimize moisture accumulation.

6. Damaged Shingles

Shingles can crack, curl, or blister due to aging, UV exposure, or severe weather. Damaged shingles are less effective at repelling water, leading to potential leaks.

Solution – Replace damaged shingles promptly. Use high-quality materials designed for your climate to ensure durability. Regularly inspect the roof to identify early signs of wear and tear.

7. Debris Accumulation

Leaves, dirt, and other debris can collect on your roof, particularly in gutters and valleys. This buildup can trap moisture, causing water to pool and eventually seep through the roofing material.

Solution – Clean your roof and gutters regularly to prevent debris accumulation. Install gutter guards to reduce the frequency of cleaning. For hard-to-reach areas, hire a professional to handle debris removal safely.

Roof Maintenance Program Benefits

Regular roof maintenance is a proactive approach that helps prevent costly repairs and prolongs your roof’s lifespan. A comprehensive program includes periodic inspections, cleaning, and minor repairs. Here are the key benefits:

Early Problem Detection – Inspections identify issues like damaged shingles or clogged gutters before they lead to leaks.

Improved Durability – Routine maintenance keeps your roof in optimal condition, allowing it to withstand weather extremes.

Cost Savings – Preventative measures are more affordable than emergency repairs or roof replacement.

Enhanced Safety – Regular maintenance reduces the risk of structural damage or collapse due to water infiltration.

When to Call a Professional Roofer

While some minor repairs can be handled by homeowners, roof leaks require immediate attention from a professional roofer. Delaying repairs can worsen the damage and increase repair costs. Here’s why calling a professional is critical:

Accurate Diagnosis – Professionals have the expertise to identify a leak’s root cause and address it effectively.

Proper Repairs – A licensed roofer uses high-quality materials and techniques to ensure long-lasting repairs.

Safety – Climbing onto a roof can be dangerous without proper training and equipment. Professionals minimize injury risks.

Warranty Protection – Many roofing materials come with warranties that require professional installation or repair to remain valid.

If you detect a roof leak, like water stains on ceilings, dripping water, or mold growth, contact a reputable roofing contractor immediately. Quick action can prevent further damage and protect your home.

Roof Leaks and Solutions

In this article, you discovered crucial information about why residential roofing systems can leak, their solutions, how a maintenance program benefits you, and when to call a professional roofer to address the problem.

Your ability to quickly identify developing roofing issues will position you to get them resolved before they cause severe roof and material damage.

Ignoring roofing issues can lead to significant structural damage, costly cleanup, and potential displacement from your home.

Sources: hud.gov/sites/documents/HUDGB5C5GUID.PDF extension.uga.edu/publications/detail.html?number=C1082&title=home-maintenance-checklist blogs.oregonstate.edu/piperde/2023/06/20/roof-maintenance-tips-to-make-a-roof-last-longer

New Image Roofing Atlanta

2020 Howell Mill Rd NW Suite 232 Atlanta, GA30318 (404) 680-0041

To see the original version of this article, visit https://www.newimageroofingatlanta.com/my-roof-is-leaking-causes-and-solutions/

#residential roofer atlanta #residential roofing #asphalt shingle roofing #asphalt shingles #shingle roof #emergency roof repair #residential roof repair #leaking roof #roof leak

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