#gambit chapter 3

[iuminouscrown]

Gambit: King Slayer/Chapter Three Translation

ギャンビット

King Slayer/第三話

春

Gambit

King Slayer/Chapter Three

Spring

Ritsu: あはは。ふたりでぺこぺこ頭を下げあってる。な〜んか、ス〜ちゃんが二匹に増えたみたい

Ritsu: A-haha. The two of them are repeatedly bowing their heads to each other.* It looks like there are two little pet Su~chan’s.~**

Arashi: 『匹』で数えないの。失礼よ

Arashi: Don’t count using “little pets.”*** It’s rude. 

Arashi: でも、そこは凛月ちゃんに同意ね

Arashi: But, I agree with Ritsu-chan there.

Arashi: かなり良い子そうだし、もちろん最終決定権は『王さま』の司ちゃんにあるわけだけど、個人的には仲間に入れてあげても良さそうに思うわ

Arashi: He seems like a pretty good boy. Of course, Tsukasa-chan, our “Ousama”, has the last word but I personally think it would be good to take him in.  

Ritsu: え〜、俺は知らない子が増えるの嫌なんだけど

Ritsu: Really? I don’t like adding strange kids to our ranks though. 

Ritsu: でも、もともと『Knights』はともかくその前身の『チェス』は大所帯だったからねぇ

Ritsu: But, both “Knights” and its predecessor “Chess” were originally large groups regardless.

Ritsu: メンバーが増えたり減ったりすることには、とくに違和感はないかも

Ritsu: There may not be any particular issue with either the increase or decrease in members.

Arashi: ファンの反応は気になるけどね。すっかり〝五人の『Knights』〟のイメージが定着しちゃったし

Arashi: I���d be curious to see how the fans would respond though. Our image of “Five ‘Knights’” has been firmly established. 

Ritsu: そこもせッちゃんと月ぴ〜の卒業と海外進出で、わりと変わっていく気がするけどねぇ。。。。。。そもそも

Ritsu: Though, I feel like we’re going to change quite a bit since Secchan and Tsukipi~ graduated and are now working overseas…… after all… 

Ritsu: こうやって謎の子が加入を望んできたりしなくてもさ

Ritsu: ...That would be true even if mysterious children didn’t want to join.

Arashi: そうねェ。。。。。。どうしようもなく、アタシたちは変わっていかざるを得ない

Arashi: That’s true……. What choice do we have but to change?

Arashi: 今はそんな、過渡期だわ

Arashi: We’re in a transition period right now. 

Tsukasa: .....何を先輩方だけでひそ内緒話をしているのですか。たまにそういう時がありますよね、私だけ蚊帳の外みたいで不快です

Tsukasa: …What is the big secret, Senpai? I sometimes feel like there are times when I’m the only one kept out of the loop.**** It’s unpleasant. 

Tsukasa: べつに横いませんけどね。今さらですし

Tsukasa: But there’s no one beside me. It’s too late at this stage. 

Tsukasa: えっと、それよりも、あなたー

Tsukasa: Er, well, more importantly, you— 

???: ? はい、おれですか?

???: ? Yes. You mean me? 

Arashi: (あら、可愛い見た目なのに一人称は『おれ』なのね。そこは司ちゃんよりも、レオくんに似てるわね)

Arashi: (Oh! Even though he looks cute, he uses “ore”***** as his pronoun. That’s more like Leo-kun than Tsukasa-chan).

Tsukasa: えっと、書類によると黒木 (くろき) さん……。ご用件については承りましたので、今日はもう帰っていただいで結構ですよ

Tsukasa: Err, according to your form, Kuroki-san******…… we have received your request and it is now alright for you to leave. 

???: あ、はい、お邪魔でしたね? 失礼しました! 

???: Ah. Yes. Please excuse my intrusion. My apologies!

???: 本���は〝兄〟も紹介して一緒にご挨拶したかったんですけど。どうも迷子になってるみたいなので、捜すついでに今日は帰りますね

???: Actually, I wanted to come with my missing “older brother” and have us introduce ourselves together but I’ll head back while I’m still looking for him. 

Ritsu: 〝兄〟......?

Ritsu: “Older brother”......? 

Tsukasa: 加入申請の書類によると、彼、黒木王路 (おおじ) さんには竜路 (りゅうじ) さんというお兄さまがおられるようです

Tsukasa: Kuroki Ooji-san has an older brother******* named Ryuuji-san******** according to his application form.

Tsukasa: 書類も、兄弟ふたりぶんちゃんと用意されてますね

Tsukasa: The forms were provided for both brothers too. 

Arashi: くろ、おうじ? 何だか聞き覚えのある響きねぇ?

Arashi: Kuro Ouji (Black Prince)? Doesn’t that sound kind of familiar? 

Ritsu: 俺の昔の恥ずかしいキャッチフレーズの話をしてる?

Ritsu: Are you talking about my embarrassing tagline********* from long ago? 

Tsukasa: わ、私はかっこいいと思ってましたよ! 眠れる冷笑の黒王子......!

Tsukasa: I… I thought it was cool! The Cynical, Sleeping Black Prince……!**********

Ritsu: おやめになってください

Ritsu: Please stop. 

Ooji: ふふ。��はあの、今日は失礼しますね。お騒がせしました

Ooji: Fufu. With that, um, I must leave now. Sorry to have disturbed you. 

Ooji: どうか願わくば、またお逢いしましょう。今度は、できれば同じ『Knights』の仲間として...... ♪

Ooji: I hope that we will meet again soon. Next time, if possible, as fellow “Knights”…… ♪

Ooji: お兄ちゃ〜ん♪

Ooji: Onii-chan!♪~

Ooji: 何でこんなところで黄昏れてるの? んもう、一緒に来てって言ったのに? 『Knights』のひとたちと独りで会うの緊張した〜!

Ooji: Why are you looking so pensive in a place like this? Jeez! Didn’t I tell you to come with me? I was so nervous meeting the guys from “Knights” alone! 

Ryuuji: ………

Ooji: え? 不審者だと思われて警備のひとに追われてた? まぁお兄ちゃん、〝この見た目〟だからぱっと見では普通に不審者だもんね?

Ooji: Eh? Was security after you because they thought you were suspicious? Well, Onii-chan, at a glance, “your appearance” would look suspicious by anyone’s standards, right?

Ryuuji: ………

Ooji: うん。まだ結果はわかんないけど、予想以上に好感触だったよ

Ooji: Yeah. I don’t know the results yet, but it went better than I expected.

Ooji: 書類も完璧に仕上げたせいか、昔のことを知るひとたちも-------- 朔間さんも鳴上さんも、おれの正体には気づかなかったみたい

Ooji: This could be because I had perfectly completed the forms but even those who knew about the past didn’t seem to be aware of my true identity. — Including both Sakuma-san and Narukami-san.

Ooji: ううん。たぶん、最初からおれたちみたいなのは眼中にないのかな

Ooji: Hmm. I suspect they were not aware of people like us from the very start.

Ryuuji: ………

Ooji: うん。わかってる。大丈夫だよ、お兄ちゃん

Ooji: Yeah. I understand. It’s alright, Onii-chan. 

Ooji: きっと成功するからね、ふたりで一緒にがんばろうね

Ooji: We’ll surely succeed, so let’s do our best together. 

Ooji: あいつらへの復讐を

Ooji: We’ll have our revenge…

Ooji: キラキラ輝く玉座で傲慢に踏ん反り返った、あの王侯貴族たちに

Ooji: …On those royals and nobles leaning back proudly on their glittering throne.

Ooji: 名もなき庶民の恐ろしさを教えてやろうね、お兄ちゃん

Ooji: We’ll show them the terror of the nameless masses, Onii-chan.

Ryuuji: ………

-----

TL Notes:

*A demonstration of a "bowing war." To be polite to each other, Tsukasa and the other person keep bowing while leaving. Think of it like a prolonged "Midwest goodbye" that never ends because both parties are too polite to end the conversation and leave. Side note: as an outside observer, the continuous bowing while both parties slowly shuffle away is extremely amusing to witness.

**The counter suffix that Ritsu uses here refers to Tsukasa and co. as "two small animals."

***In reference to the "counter" Ritsu used.

****Literally: "outside the mosquito net."

*****Masculine pronoun. Comes off as a bit more harsh and rough than other pronouns. Leo also uses it.

******Pronunciation written out in hiragana for Kuroki's last name as the characters used for family names can often have several possible pronunciations. Kuroki's name means lumber stripped of bark with the literal kanji being "black" and "tree."

*******Uses "oniisama" for brother.

********More name pronunciation guides provided.

*********Black Prince (黒王子) was part of Ritsu's tagline in the original game (!).

**********Ritsu's full tagline from Enstars! Ritsu has shown embarrassment regarding it in the past as well. (See Exorcist where Aira refers to him by his old tagline. Ritsu states that Izumi came up with it when he was in a bad mental state).

[stolligaseptember]

this is the most transparent lie laurent's ever told, because charcy wasn't even a THING when they made love for the first time

[voidstilesplease]

the way damen almost pissed himself thinking he had inadvertently killed the prince of vere by advising him to discipline govart only to be promptly stumped where he stood because laurent's exfoliated hands and delicate wrists could actually hold a sword well enough to win a duel against a giant hothead war veteran. damen may find an issue with laurent's method of public humiliation, but damn if it didn't make him hot and bothered

[viivdle]

as a jameson girl... i can't breathe

[chashupak]

That one BG3 fanfic deleted scene pack where Pre-orb Gale cries over roses, shows symptoms of being a stuck-up nerd, panics over last-minute project changes, and fails at dice

Ongoing Fanfiction Link: [The Starfall Gambit]

Why scrapped: Moving my action-oriented scenes up as the hook. Weaving relevant information into existing chapters.

Chapter I.1.1 To Ashes

A boy clutched his mother’s apron, tears mingling with the dirt and soot smudged across his cheeks. The garden looked wrong now. Where pretty roses had been, only black stems stuck up from burnt dirt, like accusing fingers. He hadn’t meant to hurt them. He just thought they wanted more light.

“Do not mourn, Little One,” a voice cut through his sobs, cool and clear like water.

The air felt funny. Like right before lightning strikes. She appeared in a shimmer. Her robes changed colors that Gale couldn’t even name. Her eyes looked like the night sky, full of stars.

Gale wiped his nose with his sleeve. “B—But I hurt them. They were so pretty.”

She knelt down, and when Her hand touched his cheek, it felt cold as winter against his hot face. Everyone seemed far away now. Just him and her in the whole world.

“Power answers intent," She said, Her voice gentle but firm. "Your sorrow shows you understand the cost. That is good."

Gale stared at the ashes, still feeling awful. The magic in the air looked prettier than the flowers had ever been—swirling and alive. It only made him feel worse.

“Does that mean I’ll always break things?” he asked, small and unsure. “When I do magic?”

She looked at him with those star-filled eyes.

"No," She said, sounding like she knew everything in the whole wide world. "It means you will learn. And you will be great."

From the ashes, something bloomed. Not a rose but something new. It had petals that shone with colors like Her dress.

A little spark lit up inside him, pushing back against the bad feelings. Her words felt like a warm blanket on a cold night. Like a promise.

He wanted to believe Her.

He wanted to be great.

Chapter I.1.2 The Skies Above

The towers of Sharn pierced the sky like needles through velvet, their peaks dissolving into a lattice of bridges and arcane lights. Below, the city stacked itself in defiance of nature. Stone, steel, and ambition compressed into a monument to mortal audacity, as if challenging the gods themselves.

Gale stood at the balcony's edge in the Upper Deck of the Sky Tournaments, inhaling air too thin and too perfumed for common lungs. The voices of spectators from below reached him as mere whispers, appropriate to their station. Sky-chariots cut through clouds, their elemental wakes painting temporary auroras across the evening sky.

He studied their engines with clinical detachment. Raw industrial magic—crude but effective, like a butcher's cleaver compared to a surgeon's scalpel. The innovation deserved acknowledgment, if not admiration.

"Your assessment of the southern district's stabilization efforts was brilliant, Magister," simpered a noble to his left.

"The Academy still speaks of your treatise on planar convergence," added a scholar to his right.

Gale nodded, offering the precise dose of attention their station warranted—neither so little as to offend nor so much as to encourage further intimacy. Their flattery formed a familiar waltz, one he'd witnessed in a hundred courts with a hundred different partners. He'd mastered the steps years ago.

His thoughts remained fixed on his true purpose: the Netherese tome Mystra had tasked him to recover. It lurked somewhere in this gilded gathering, hidden beneath layers of pomp and spectacle.

"'Scuse me! Mr. Chosen, Sir!"

The voice jarred against the cultured murmurs surrounding him. A gnome bulldozed through the crowd, trailing oil stains and enthusiasm in equal measure. Without preamble, he conjured a blueprint that hovered between them, runes pulsing with potential.

"You must see this enhancement to the city's levitation fields! We've realigned the sigilwork to respond to gravitational shifts. Entire districts stabilized!"

Despite his cultivated aloofness, Gale leaned forward. His fingers hovered over the glowing runes, not touching but tracing their contours in the air. "Clever," he murmured, academic hunger momentarily overwhelming practiced restraint. "You've adjusted the harmonic resonance against the planar flux. But wouldn't that destabilize under erratic Weave fluctuations?”

For a heartbeat, the persona slipped. No longer Mystra's Chosen performing dignity, but simply Gale, a scholar encountering innovation worthy of his intellect. The thrill of discovery sparked in his chest, bright and dangerous.

He caught himself reaching toward the blueprint and withdrew. What was he doing? Mystra's mission remained unfulfilled. This mortal sigilwork, however ingenious, was mere distraction.

Yet She wasn't here. No divine whisper reminded him of his station, his duty, his necessary distance from lesser magics.

Perhaps one brief indulgence.

Gale composed his features, subduing the earnest curiosity to something more appropriately measured. "Apologies, sir. I forget myself. What was your name?"

The gnome's face split with a grin too wide for its confines. "Tibbles Clockmort, Your Chosenness!"

"Gale of Waterdeep will suffice." He permitted himself a genuine smile, the rarity of it making it feel nearly illicit.

With a perfunctory glance at the nobles—their disappointment apparent but irrelevant—he guided Tibbles toward the balcony's edge. "If you'll allow me a moment, Gentlemen."

Leaning over the railing, Gale examined the floating blueprint properly. Questions flowed naturally, each answer spawning three more inquiries. The conversation deepened, excavating theoretical foundations and practical applications with equal fervor. For the first time since arriving in Sharn, Gale felt the joy of unguarded intellectual exchange.

Then—a flicker of movement below caught his eye. Not remarkable for its elegance but for its dissonance, like a wrong note in a familiar composition.

His explanation faltered mid-sentence. An old irritation resurfaced, immediate and visceral.

Among the churning crowds of the lower stands moved a human figure he recognized instantly. Sun-bleached brown hair, carelessly braided. Storm-gray eyes that missed nothing while appearing to notice nothing. She navigated the throng with the easy confidence of someone who belonged everywhere and nowhere.

She made deals with a grin, laughed at whispered exchanges, touched shoulders as easily as she stole glances. She moved between people like shadow through candlelight.

That gait. That audacity.

The interloper from Elturel...

Chapter I.2.1 A Cage of Light

Elysium breathed with magic. Not the subtle whisper of mortal realms but a violent symphony that demanded submission. Power coursed through floating runes and crawled across Gale's skin like hungry insects. Even the marble beneath him pulsed with divine intention.

And then there was Her.

“You shape the Weave with such precision, My Chosen.”

Gale exhaled, letting Mystra’s words wash over him like the final note of a well-woven spell. Her praise lingered on his tongue, rich and heady as aged wine.

His hands framed his creation, arcane script suspended between them like a constellation bound by his will alone.

Intricate. Flawless. Divine-worthy.

She had not touched him. Not yet.

"Every thread I weave has purpose.” He stepped to Her side. The coolness that emanated from Her form prickled his skin. "I've devoted more to the art than most men give to love." His voice softened, teasing. "Though I'd like to believe I've offered you plenty of both."

Mystra's violet eyes flickered to his, ancient welts that reflected nothing back. Something unstable shimmered between them, possibility and disappointment hanging in perfect balance.

Her fingers barely brushed his spell, but it was no caress. The lattice shuddered, twisting inward like dying stars. Irreversibly altered.

Wrong.

Gale’s brow furrowed. No miscalculations. No imperfections. Yet it rejected him now.

Mystra smiled. “You recall Elturel, do you not?”

A test. Always tests.

“The planar disturbance.” He straightened, masking the tremor in his voice. “A nobleman’s arrogance nearly unstitched reality itself. I arrived in time to prevent catastrophe.”

“Did you?” Two simple words, a scalpel drawing blood.

Gale's fingers curled at his sides. "If you are referring to that bystander—"

Mystra watched him, letting silence stretch between them. The memory flickered unbidden.

The Weave, balanced on a razor's edge. His magic, controlled and calculated. Then suddenly—gone. Yanked out from under him like a drunkard flipping a board game.

A reckless woman with storm-gray eyes, redirecting energy without technique or reverence. The portal snapping shut with her at its epicenter.

No mastery. Just results.

Neat. Efficient. Effective.

A cheat.

"Why do you believe she got involved?" Mystra's voice pulled him back.

His jaw tightened. “Misplaced heroism.”

Mystra's lips curved with quiet knowing. She touched his chin, Her fingers cold as starlight, guiding him to face the altered construct. It hummed wrong notes, dissonant and beautiful.

"You dismiss it, My Chosen, but it reaches places your precision does not." The construct flickered, and he recognized the sensation now. Unstructured. Instinctive. "Even the finest spellbook cannot hold every incantation that exists."

Her touch lingered, clinical rather than loving. No reward. No reassurance. Rather than a lover caressing her beloved, She touched him like an artisan examining an old piece. Where once that touch had sparked divine fire, now it left only frost.

His heart constricted. He had given everything to Her—youth, devotion, brilliance—and still it wasn’t enough.

Gale forced his spine straighter. Precision and control. His defining virtues. What She had molded him to embody. What made him worthy.

As She drifted away, his gaze caught the empty space beside Her, a void he once thought he might fill.

He traced the Weave.

And this time, he forced himself to see the cracks.

Chapter I.2.2 The Stands Below

The Lower Deck devoured all who entered. Where the Upper Deck floated in perfumed refinement, this level throbbed like an exposed nerve. A seething, living thing as loud as the industrial magic that crackled through its steel bones. Flesh made of bodies pressed sweat-to-sweat. Rust and ale and smoke formed a physical presence, something you tasted more than smelled. Each surface held treachery: floors slick with spilled drink, tables scarred from brawls, shadows concealing predators and prey indistinguishable from one another.

A raw, unbridled cacophony that breathed in sparks and exhaled thunder.

Gale pushed through this wilderness with a discreet spell that bent attention away from him. Despite this precaution, his fine robes and straight-backed posture marked him as clearly as a torch in darkness. One hand hovered near his spellbook, both protection and comfort in this alien landscape.

Scholarly curiosity—at least, that’s what he told himself—had led him from the safety of the Upper Deck into this den of structured chaos. The truth was more elemental: he needed to see her again, the woman from Elturel who had unraveled his spell with intuition where he had built it with calculation.

It hadn’t taken long to spot her.

She commanded a gambling table like a general at a battlefield. Sleeves were rolled to expose forearms corded with lean muscle, a single hoop earring catching the lantern light as she laughed. A faint scar tracked along her wrist, visible as she flipped a coin into the growing pot.

"You've got to give it up, Viktor," she teased, her voice cutting through the ambient roar. "That grin's charming, but it's going to be a real problem when someone notices your teeth." She winked at the rough-hewn barbarian across from her, sparking a cascade of laughter that seemed disproportionate to the joke.

Then—there it was. Her fingers twitched, the Weave responding to her silent command. The dice wobbled in mid-throw, their trajectory altered. No incantation. No structured spellwork. Not even a proper cantrip.

Just like last time. Telekinesis? Perhaps the barest of components. A distorted variety.

His lips pressed into a thin line. She played the Weave like a weathered lute, rough and impulsive. A thief picking magic's pockets without a thought to the cost, to the discipline required. To the reverence magic deserved.

And yet… no one protested. No one even noticed. While he detected the disrespect to the Weave itself, her fellow gamblers saw only her charm, her wit, her carefully crafted distraction.

Before reason could intervene, he approached the table. "I'd be loath to let such an engaging game go unstudied. Might there be room for one more?"

Eyes assessed him with predatory calculation. How much could they relieve him of? How quickly?

But when she looked up, recognition flashed before being smoothed over with a grin, disproportionately familiar given their last encounter.

"Feel free." She gestured at an empty seat. "And you are..." Her eyes lingered on every landmark that set him apart—fine robes, enchanted jewelry, perfectly groomed brown locks. Her gaze weighed him with frank appraisal, neither impressed, nor dismissive.

Then she tilted her head. "Prince Charming?"

The table erupted in laughter, rough and genuine at his expense. Gale smiled thinly as he took a seat, refusing to give an inch. "Flattering, but just Gale. Though I can't fault you for assuming nobility."

She hummed, noncommittal. "All right, Gale."

She performed introductions with theatrical flair, ending with a hand settled on her chest, chin lifted in mock ceremony. "Lyanna."

Gale dropped his coin pouch onto the table, its weight punctuating his arrival. Its heft drew appreciative glances. "Pleasure."

The next few hands passed in a dance of mundane gambling, but Gale's attention never strayed from Lyanna's fingers. He watched for the telltale shimmer in the Weave, the disrespectful tug at magic's threads. When the Tabaxi woman rolled the dice, he caught it—Lyanna's casual touch of magic, ready to tip fate's scales.

With surgical precision, Gale countered. A whisper of his own magic nullified hers, leaving a faint shimmer of purple-blue energy that only a trained eye might catch. The dice fell naturally. The Tabaxi squealed with delight at her unexpected win, oblivious to the magic simmering beneath perception.

Lyanna's eyes snapped to him. One finger against the wood, thoughtful. She raised her ale, amusement ghosted across her lips.

"Someone's paying attention," she murmured, her storm-gray eyes meeting his over the rim of her mug.

Gale inclined his head, an unspoken challenge.

The starting buzzer of the tournament blared, sky-chariots roaring, eyes drawn skyward. Lyanna leaned forward, slamming her mug down with a decisive thud.

With each round, their contest deepened, transcending the mundane games around them. The air buzzed with overlapping deals and thunderous cheers, but Gale and Lyanna remained locked in their private contest. Their magic wove through the ordinary gambling like silver threads through base cloth.

Every nullification he performed was technical perfection. Every counter she devised was infuriatingly novel, slipping past defenses like water through cracked stone.

"Lucky," she remarked when his perfectly controlled spell yielded a winning roll.

"Fortune favors the skilled,” he replied with the same scholarly condescension that had earned him both admiration and exasperation from students back in Blackstaff.

Her fingers brushed the table's edge. When she tossed her dice, they wobbled mid-air a heartbeat too long. The Weave bent to her will, careless and unbounded. The dice landed perfectly.

Gale exhaled through his nose.

"Jealous?" she asked.

"For a fluke? Hardly."

As their magical duel intensified, something tugged at Gale’s awareness, a pattern emerging from what he’d assumed was chaos.

When Lyanna manipulated the dwarf's roll, ensuring the dwarf stayed in the game despite poor odds, Gale didn't interfere. He watched as she clasped the dwarf's shoulder, her laughter genuine as she teased him about his vices.

Understanding dawned like a slow sunrise. His gaze swept across the table, seeing the larger design for the first time.

The dwarf, still in the game by a thread. The barbarian, leading just enough to feed his bravado. The Tabaxi, engaged in flirtatious rivalry that had nothing to do with the game. The half-orc, locked in heated competition with the barbarian, their bets climbing higher with each round.

She wasn't chasing victory. She was orchestrating an experience. Shaping the game to maximize engagement, to keep everyone invested emotionally as well as financially. Like feeding kindling to a fire.

The realization unsettled something in him. Magic had its plethora of uses, that he knew. Yet, while his set him apart in a league all his own, hers drew people in. A truth he’d been trained to dismiss as frivolous.

Her eyes met his across the table, a knowing quirk of her brow. As if, for a fleeting moment, he'd glimpsed the real game beneath it all—neither dice nor magic. But rather, she played to their desires, their rivalries, their needs all balanced in a delicate social alchemy.

"Relax, Charming," she said. "It's just a game."

The words stung more than they should have. Perhaps they were only intended as surface-level banter, but they felt like a dismissal of everything he stood for, everything he’d dedicated his life to perfecting. This wasn’t “just a game”, but the very architecture of reality itself.

On the final round, Gale doubled down. Whatever social experiment she conducted, his purpose remained clear. To demonstrate proper control, to teach through example.

He gripped the dice, infusing them with magic of absolute precision. A guaranteed, undetectable victory. The dice tumbled, the Weave humming between them like a plucked string.

Lyanna watched, her head tilted with something like disappointment. Then, just as the dice were about to land, the Weave shimmered. Not opposition, not a counterspell, but a whispered augmentation that made his magic blindingly obvious to everyone present.

The table erupted before the dice settled. Scoffs. Jeers. The barbarian let out a long, unimpressed whistle.

"A shame," Lyanna said, rising with fluid grace. Her expression held none of the triumph he expected, only a flickering regret. As she passed behind him, she leaned close enough that her breath warmed his ear.

"You wouldn't have liked winning like that anyway."

The hem of her coat lifted as she moved to leave, revealing the worn leather of a belt fitted with more pouches than one might expect. Her hand grazed his shoulder—a brief, thoughtless touch that left an inexplicable warmth.

"Try not to let it ruin your night, Upper Crust," she called over her shoulder. Then she exhaled, smoothing a hand over the back of her neck as she melted into the crowd. As if the game had only ever been a momentary diversion.

Gale barely registered the murmurs of disdain from the table, his mind still replaying that final move. She'd caught him in a trap of his own making. Not by opposing his magic, but by revealing it. Why? To teach him some lesson? To humiliate him?

Or perhaps, most disquieting of all, because she'd recognized something in him that he wasn't ready to see in himself.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

[euphoriaishername]

These are some of my favourite stories of Hong Joshua I've read so far!

Make sure to support these authors. I'll be adding more as time goes on.

Also find my other recommendations post of one-shots.

the royal gambit by @idyllic-ghost

Unveiling Hearts: The Law of Attraction by @idyllic-ghost

pushing and pulling by @hannieween

hoax by @lovelyhan

isohel by @toruro

108 hours by @strayed-quokka

Something Between Us by @thedensworld

Where you're convenient by @miabebe

Gentleman by @starlightxsvt

Snowflakes by @brownsugarbaybee

Anonymously Yours by @joonsytip

tell me that you love me [part 1] [part 2] by @wheeboo

too nice by @mochacoda

golden hour by @dkfile

royally screwed [part 1] [part 2] by @husbandhoshi

Just Like That by @kwanisms

Be My Sin by @miaoua3

HELP! My Neighbour is an Alien a Porn Star by @kwanisms

skin by @bratzkoo

fungal affairs by @starrdustshuas

Sweet Dreams by @wonusite

Calendar Killer by @miabebe

Vanilla [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] by @milfgyuu

Break by @sailorsoons

blurring the lines by @amourcheol

My colleague thinks that pissing me off will get me to worship the ground he walks on by @linosbundles

'til god breaks the spell by @joshujin

FRIENDLY COMPETITION by @sanakiras

30 days, 30 dates by @keizethemoment

Almost Had You by @synity

When Tangerines Give You Lemons by @moonstarsunflower

even hell had a heart by @mylovesstuffs

operation : laundary love by @bratzkoo

The Storm by @brownsugarbaybee

Why Won't You Love Me by @yeoblurbs

[taintandviolent]

Le coup de foudre ; Gambit x Reader

summary: THIS IS PART 3 OF THE TACO TUESDAY SERIES! PART ONE HERE / PART TWO HERE! Reader is suffering, big time. She wants Remy, but he hasn't called. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.1K | some angst to start things off, smut with some plot (we've got an established relationship, huzzah), French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (chere, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), shower sex, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n, and some fluff at the end, because I went and broke y'all's hearts in the last chapter.

a/n: praying that the gambit fandom hasn't completely died out.... i'm so sorry this took me so long. banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

The first day is the hardest. 

The first day is the hardest because by 1:30 PM, you realize that you’re in love with Remy Lebeau. You cry on the couch he kissed you on. Why are you crying? Because you can’t remember the last time you’ve been in love with someone, and you know what comes with love. None of it is good. 

The second day sucks too because you go to work, and come home to an apartment that, for the first time since you’ve lived there, really felt empty. There’s nowhere you can sit that he hasn’t touched. His memory lingers everywhere and try as you might, you can’t escape it. You aren’t sure you want to, either, which is troubling in and of itself. 

By the third day, your heart is aching, but it’s a dull ache. Something like anger has started to roil in your system, and you’re wondering why he hasn’t called, or stopped by. You can justify it by saying that you don’t know what mutant superheroes go through or what their daily life looks like, but you’re still sour that there’s been nothing but radio silence on his end. 

Day four comes and goes, and nothing changes. You’re still sad. You’re still angry. But most of all, you’re still lonely. 

Day five… however. Day five comes, you’ve cycled through all the stages of grief and landed somewhere on the spectrum of desperation. 

So, after work, you march across the hall to Wade’s, and knock three times in a little melody. After a few moments, the door flies open, revealing a very casual looking Wade. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt and grey sweats. You avert your eyes from his groin, out of respect. 

“Wade,” you stammer, scratching a non-existent itch on your arm. “Hey.”

“Pookie! How nice of you to stop by. Blind Al and I were just about to partake in some Colombian party powder, care to join us?” 

Your pupils dilate. Was he being serious? You couldn’t tell. “Uh… no. No, I’m good.” 

You shift uneasily. You aren’t sure how to start this, so you just blurt whatever comes out. 

“Wade… um. Look, I’m sorry to ask this of you. I just…. I can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t seem like the type to ghost someone, and I just… I really want to talk to him.” 

“You want Gambit’s number?”

You perk up, relieved that you didn’t have to ask the question yourself. Wade was more perceptive than you thought. 

“Y-yeah, if you have it.” 

“I don’t. Womp-womp. But I gave him yours.” 

“Oh…” A beat. “...wait. How did you get my number?” 

“Remember that package that was misdelivered?” 

“No….” 

“Yikes. Well, I do. It had your name and phone number on it. I figured it’d be useful to have so…” He taps the side of his head.

“Why did you… did he ask for it?” 

“Boy, did he.” 

You frown, feeling an overwhelming flurry of emotions. On one hand, he’s had your number and hasn’t called. On the other hand, he wanted your number. But he hadn’t done a damn thing with it. Your shoulders sink, unconsciously. 

“Oh, sweet cheeks. Someone play some Cigarettes After Sex, this is getting emotional.” Wade mock frowns, looking off to the left for a moment before his eyes dart back to you. “He’s probably saving lives or something heroic. Undisclosed mutant drama.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, choosing to ignore his weird commentary. “I appreciate it.” 

“What’re you gonna’ do now? Cue the depressed drinking montage.” 

“That’s a great idea, actually…” 

“No, no… let’s not.” 

You interject with a finger in his face. “Yeah, let’s.” 

“If you’re going to do that, let’s do it inside. C’mon.”  Wade doesn’t give you a moment to reject him, and plants both of his hands on your shoulders, yanking you forward. 

Turns out, Wade does have alcohol. He makes you a drink, something that tastes like whiskey. Maybe it's your whiskey, left over. You bring the glass to your lips, sucking the liquid down. It’s strong, but you aren’t complaining. 

“Oooohohoh, you’ve got it bad, huh? Heart eyes and all that mushy-gushy shit?”

You throw a glare his way, and take another sip. The liquor burns better than any remark you could’ve come up with.

“It’s okay,” he says, nodding. “I can’t say I blame you. It’s that Southern charm he’s got. Handsome, slick, and he can do magic tricks.” His eyes widen, excitedly. “How could you not fall in love with him?”

“Wade, you’re not helping.” 

“Sure I am,” he retorts. 

You take a seat on Wade’s couch, looking distraught. You’re thankful that Blind Al is in fact… blind because she can’t see the way that the tears are welling up in your eyes. You look at the chairs that you two sat on, flirting with each other.

“Oh,” Wade says, looking somewhat surprised. “Oh no.”

“She cryin’?” Blind Al asks. Great, she’s perceptive. You swallow back a sob, and bring the glass to your lips again. 

“Almost… almost… c’mon, give us a cinematic, single tear.” 

You shake your head and suck it up as best you can. You don’t want acknowledgement, that’ll only make it worse, possibly sending you into a fit of sobs. You don’t even know why you’re so upset – it’s not like he told you he never wanted to see you again. He just hadn’t… well, done anything and that was somehow worse.

“Je-sus…!” Wade says suddenly, leaning over to angrily look through the peephole. He stays there for a moment, before leaning back, a sly smile on his face. 

And that’s when you hear the dull thudding that has Wade’s attention. It sounds like a knock – a heavy handed one. 

You straighten your spine, curious. 

“Oh, this is too perfect.” He says under his breath, before taking one step towards you. “Save the waterworks, your Cajun Prince has returned.” 

You set the glass on the floor and scramble off the couch, practically on all fours as you run towards the door, pushing Wade out of the way. Standing on your tiptoes to look through the peephole for only a split second, you get a visual. Hurriedly, you twist the knob and throw the door open, wanting to rip it off its hinges. It bumps into the wall behind it, and your breath rushes out.  

Remy stands there, facing your door, his fist raised to knock again. He has a duffel bag on his shoulder, which slides off the second he hears your voice. 

“Remy?” you call, your voice quivering slightly. He turns abruptly, his coat flaring out behind him. He’s wearing armor now, and looks like he’s just come back from something serious.

“Chere? What’re you –” 

You don’t need to answer again, instead, just run across the hall, rushing into his arms. Your body hits him so hard that you let out a little vocalization, a delicate oomph, as you compress yourself to him. He immediately responds by wrapping one arm around your waist, and the other around the back of your head, hand petting your hair gently. 

He smells like blood, sweat and ash, but you nuzzle your cheek into the rigid plate of his purple chestplate anyway, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso in a desperate hug. 

After a moment, you pull away, just enough to look up at him. He looks down at you, his eyes burning with such an adoration that you can’t help but clench your stomach. He looks like he missed you as much as you missed him. 

“Is this your superhero outfit?” Your fingers stroke the ridges in his cowl, admiring it. Slowly, they trail down the length of it, and begin to make their way over his smooth chestplate. 

He laughs, looking down at you. “ ‘Spose so.”

“I like it.” 

Two smiles later, he pulls you in for a bruising kiss, lifting you up off the ground slightly. You’re on your tiptoes again, smashing your lips against his and tasting him as hungrily as you did the first time – if not hungrier. There’s something extremely erotic about kissing a costumed hero, something to do with uniforms and all that, you assume, but the butterflies in your stomach go wild at the feeling of his armor against you. This time, you don’t try to suppress anything and give into the feeling of it all. 

Someone sighs dreamily behind you and Remy breaks the kiss to look knowingly over the top of your head. Wade is leaning against his door frame, hands clasped in front of his chest. Short of having hearts bursting over his head, he’s silently gushing, his brows pulled together in a sappy expression, with a dorky smile curling around his lips.

“Oh, c’mon! Just a peek? Where’s your sense of fan service?!” 

“No, Wade.” Remy croons, opening your door and pulling you in with him. He shuts the door with one hand.

“Now before we get to the good stuff, I wanna’ wash this day offa’ me.” 

You nod your head, understanding, and reach for his hand. The bathroom is adjacent to your bedroom, so you lead him down the hall.

You flick on the light; it’s all dark tile and cool tones. You head to the sizable shower, and open the glass door, leaning in just enough to turn the knob. The water splashes to life, and steam fills the bathroom quickly. 

Watching Remy undress himself is like a strip tease that has you biting your lip. He’s determinate and meticulous, like he knows you’re watching. The jacket and armor pieces come off first, and get set on the edge of the bathroom counter. Then comes the shirt, revealing that delicious torso again, the one that you’ve been longing to run your hands over for almost a week. He quickly unzips his pants and drags them down his legs before setting them atop the rest of the items. The briefs are last – the perfect ending to reveal his heavy, flaccid cock before he turns, and walks into the shower. He’s got a perfect ass, too; muscular and round. You’re pretty sure you could bounce a quarter off of it. The water splashes against the roundness of his freckled shoulders, spattering against the muscle and onto the tile. 

“Chere, c’mere…” He reaches for your hand, pulling it inside the shower. 

“Wait, wait,” you laugh, and retract your hand. “I’m not coming in there fully dressed.” 

“Then get naked, mon amour. We know we done been waitin’ long enough to feel each other again.” 

You pull your shirt over your head, and reach around back to undo your bra. Your jean shorts are next, joining the pile on the floor.

The water is warm, but Remy’s naked body is even warmer. 

There’s a beautiful, tender familiarity in the way you touch each other, coupled with a hunger that can only be fueled by absence. He hasn’t had you in days, you haven’t had him; the desire has reached a boiling point, and needs to be expelled. He presses you against the tile of the shower, watching as the water pitter-patters against your skin, over your decollete, over your breasts and down the gentle curve of your stomach. He leans down and kisses the hollow of your throat, his hands cupping your hips forcefully.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against your skin. 

“I missed you too… maybe more.” 

“Ooh, doubt that.” 

As his fingers trail along your body with an air of ownership, Remy kisses your wet shoulders, nipping at the warm, slick flesh. Despite the heat, you shiver. He has a real knack for making your body shudder. Your knees feel like jell-o, so you wrap your hands around his strong neck, interlacing your fingers behind it for some support. 

His fingers dip down between your legs and teasingly splay out over your folds. His middle finger slips between them, glossing over your center, and slides all the way down, teasing your entrance with the pad of his finger. Everything is wet, but he can feel the slickness that meets his finger. His cock twitches against your thigh. 

“‘Dat’s my girl,” he says, low. “Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout ‘dis way too much.” His hand cups your cunt, as if to punctuate his sentence and you bite your lip, looking into his eyes. You shift, forcing more friction against his wet palm, the warm water pooling between your legs. “The thought of you been distractin’ me. You a dangerous woman, cher…” 

“I’m dangerous? Says the guy who has fucked me in every room, on almost every surface in my apartment…” 

Remy chuckles and the sound fills your heart. There it is again – that unyielding feeling of adoration. You’re horny as all get out, but somehow, you still have the capacity to swoon over tiny things like his laugh. This isn’t you, this isn’t what you’re used to. Frustrated, you bump your head against the tile, letting out a small groan. 

He notices this, and brings his other hand – still leaving one situated between your legs – up behind your head. 

“What’re you doin’? What’s wrong, chere?”

“Nothing...” you huff, looking over at the shower head. It doesn’t sound very convincing, but you aren’t ready to spill your guts to him yet… you’d rather have him rearrange your guts and not think about the feelings. 

He smirks, devilishly, like he already knows. If he does, he’s not letting you off the hook. 

“Guess I just gon’ have to fuck it outta’ you, huh?” 

You avert your gaze back to him, pupils dilating. You know him well enough now that he means what says.  

With that, he places a kiss on your forehead, and turns his body towards the stream of water. He begins washing himself, and you watch as the suds slowly trail down the ample curve of his back. You reach forward, spreading them over the indentation of his spine, washing him gently. 

“Hoo, the way you touch me…” he murmurs just loud enough for you to hear it. 

The shower is intimate and everything is mutual, cue the montage. For the… what? Tenth time that week? You realize that you're in way too deep with Remy. Way too deep, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. 

Drying his feet off on the mat and allowing you space to do the same, Gambit then pulls a towel from the rack, and wraps it around your naked body. The droplets absorb into the fibers, and you’re a little less drippy. Well, your body is. The hungry, whining void between your legs isn’t. 

When Gambit turns, you catch a glimpse of his half-hard cock and blush. Even though you’ve fucked it, sucked it and everything else, the sight of is still enough to send butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

He can’t get you to the bedroom fast enough. His hands are on your hips, directing you towards the bed and you let out a little vocalization, much to his delight. 

“C’mere, mon ami… get up on ‘dat bed.” 

You obey. Why wouldn’t you? You’ve been waiting for this for almost a week now. 

Before he has a chance to stop you, you’re reaching forward to take his cock in your hand. It’s heavy and hot and the feeling of it against your palm makes you clench painfully, twinging with heat. You take your time in stroking him to full hardness, swiping your thumb over the leaking tip and smearing the pre-cum down his veiny length. 

Once he’s there, he’s like a freight train. Unstoppable and panting hard. He fucks you hard over the edge of the bed, hard enough to make your breasts bounce back and forth with each bullying thrust, withdrawing it to the tip and bottoming out each time. Your bedroom is filled with the sounds of bodies slapping together, flesh against flesh. 

“Tell me,” he grunts. “Ain’t no place for secrets up in here.”

“It’s not important – uuhhh!” Another thrust, deep as he can go. 

“Cher,” he growls and thrusts again. “I ain’t gonna’ let you cum ‘till you tell me.” 

“No,” you moan, bringing your hands to your tits as they move. “Please, I’m so close, we can — uhhh god!”

He’s relentless. 

“Fuck, fuck-fuck, oh my god…!” 

With a slick pop, he pulls his cock all the way out. You lift your head up, gazing distraught between your legs; he’s centimeters away from you. The tip is red, glistening and angry as it twitches up, pre-cum leaking from the slit.

“Tell me, cher, or you ain’t gonna’ get ‘dis cock again.” He bucks his hips forward, dragging the fat, wet tip against your swollen cunt. You cry out at the sensation, your clit buzzing with electricity. Despite all that, he doesn’t penetrate you again, and you whimper at the empty sensation. Every time you try to move your hips to get his cock to slip in again, he pulls back just enough to put distance between you two. You whine through gritted teeth. 

“Okay!” 

He presses the head of his cock against your clit. Waiting. Patiently. So patiently. For a moment, you marvel at the control he has considering that his cock looks red and angry, aching to empty itself inside of you. 

“Fine. I think…” You pause to catch your breath. “I think I love you.” 

Remy closes his eyes for a second, reveling in the sound of you saying it. He’d wanted to say it to you at breakfast, and he’d wanted to say it before he left. 

“Mm.” 

“Mm?”

“Mmm-mm. ‘Dat’s what I wanted to hear, chere. An’ it sounds so good comin’ outta’ ‘dat mouth of yours.”

He lines the cockhead up, and bottoms out with another word. He’s said enough, apparently. When he takes hold of your hips, lifting them up slightly to give himself a deeper angle, you wrap your hands around your sheets until the fibers squeak. Your nails dig into the fabric, nearly puncturing holes in them. It’s only a few more earth-shattering thrusts before you cum, and before he fills you with white hot heat, the two of you calling and moaning each other’s names in ecstasy. 

After softening inside of you, which is somehow extremely sweet, he withdraws himself from your cunt, and uses the sheet to clean up the mess that leaks out. He carefully lifts you up onto the bed fully, and then crawls next to you, nestling into the same space he did last night. 

It’s like he never left. 

“I really do, you know. I love you. I know we just met and fucked and that’s all, but I love you.”

“You keep sayin’ ‘dat’s all’ as if what we have is somethin’ casual, cher. You’re gonna’ hurt Remy’s feelings if you keep ‘dat up. So, knock it off, ah?” 

“It’s… it’s not casual?” 

He shakes his head. “I love you too, mon coeur. I have since I first saw you…” 

You hum happily, and nuzzle yourself against his bare chest. “I finally understand that French phrase I learned… C’etait le coup de foudre?” (It was love at first sight.)

“Oui… oui.” 

[sinkableruby]

deltarune is utena: a collection of parallels

since chapter 3 and 4 came out and it's become increasingly clear to me that deltarune is taking some heavy utena inspiration, i wanted to collect the parallels i noticed along with a friend. this is spoilers for deltarune chapters 3+4 and for revolutionary girl utena.

now, the first and biggest parallel i noticed: kris is anthy in deltarune.

- cages for a "greater power" as part of a plot. agency removed due to that role

- working together with (and being manipulated by) a much older figure as a child to orchestrate the negative events and forces of the plot

- being pushed towards a powerful girl closely connected to their manipulator in order to hold more control over that girl

- the truth is, i...... nevermind.

there's more, even.

kris sleeping "like a corpse" through class and other imagery of death for them; anthy sleeping in her coffin.

kris trying to protect people: susie, noelle; anthy trying to protect dios and utena.

both of them trying to return to an ideal of the past, which is why they're doing the things they do (kris's feelings about dess. anthy's feelings about dios).

both of them taking on the painful and harder part in their plot instead of their co-conspirator/abuser.

the egg rooms; the chick needing to break the shell of its egg.

you can even say that the tendency of players to blame kris for things we made them do, or condemn them excessively for their involvement with the knight or carol or for them not telling susie the truth as though they are a demon and not a traumatized child is similar to how anthy is blamed for everything as the rose bride and used as a scapegoat.

prankster's gambit

what does this all mean for kris? mostly bad things! yay!

the next big parallel i noticed: susie/noelle as utena. noelle and susie both being utena seems weird at first, but it actually makes sense when you consider their interchangeability in the text of the prophecy. i imagine that carol wanted noelle to be the one adventuring with kris in the dark world to control both of them better, but susie got in the way. also, we see both of them are strong, and very much revolutionary in how they can bypass the limits of the game, of what we can normally do

the parallels are pretty strong for each, with susie:

- wanting eternity

- being a deeply lonely girl believing in true friendship and empowered by it. also, the protagonist. and someone who is seemingly miraculous, pulling through even when all seems lost and saving herself and others with the power of hopes and dreams

and noelle:

- manipulated by a ring, a symbol of love. we are akio in the weird route. our scenes with her are coded like an abusive relationship

- i can't remember...

there's also noelle's stuff with nostalgia, and her nervous babbling in That Scene in the weird route is reminiscent of utena's in That Scene of episode 33. basically, susie is utena in the main route, and if you choose weird route, noelle is instead

given all this i would be shocked if deltarune was not taking inspiration from utena here (and i wouldnt be surprised if the rose that was originally in That Scene in the weird route was taking a leaf out of utena's book). deltarune is utena yay yippee

[wonupatootie]

홍지수 // Hong Jisoo [Joshua] Fic Recsᡣ𐭩 Part II

널 위한 위로가 되고 싶어 힘이 들 땐~

Main Recs Masterlist

➣Part I // Part II

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

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“Just Like That” by @kwanisms

Fem!reader || demon au, supernatural, angst, one-sided pining, smut, religious themes || W.C: 16k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･fantasizing about her handsome and sweet coworker has some unintended consequences for Y/N when an incubus shows up in her home after unintentionally summoning him with what she thought was just gibberish.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Lies And Butterflies” by @bluehoodiewoozi

Fem!reader || fake dating au, mostly fluff || W.C: 19.2k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Your roommate begged you to pretend to date him while his mom is in town for the month. The little crush you’ve had on him will either become your best friend or worst obstacle on this quest.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Calendar Killer” by @miabebe

Afab!reader || psych thriller, smut, supernatural elements || W.C: 14k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it didn't care whether it was the red of love and the red of blood?

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

[outoftheseine]

- BUCKY BARNES FIC RECS PART 3 -

his strut, lord forgive me | some fics might have 18+ content so minors do not interact.

main masterlist | part 1 | part 2

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

break free • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @james-bucky (angst, violence, comfort, smut)

honey girl • dbf!bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @violentdelightsandviolentends (age gap, soulmate au, smut, angst, fluff)

taken • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @antiquarianfics (angst, violence, kidnapping)

public affair | public display • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @kaznejis

you are mine, sunshine • grumpy!bodyguard!bucky barnes x sunshine!fem!reader

↳ by @theeleggymeggy

i never thought you'd happen to me | part 2 | part 3 • bucky barnes x curvy!reader

↳ by @nickfowlerrr (slight angst, mostly fluff, smut, luv itt)

against all odds | part 2 • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bossbtch1

ONE-SHOTS - HC'S - BLURBS

you found me • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @samthemarvelfan (slight angst, fluff)

cry baby • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @buckymorelikefuckme (smut, friends to lovers)

secret injury • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @lives-in-midgard

the collection • tfatws!bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @theeleggymeggy

better knock • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @buckysouvenir (flufff, implied smut)

suffocate me with your love • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @rocketrhap3000 (angst with happy ending, self-esteem problems)

always • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @nickfowlerrr (angst with happy ending)

contaminated • bucky barnes x agent!reader

↳ by @adrinktostopyourthirst (fluff)

finally • bucky barnes x spy!reader

↳ by @adrinktostopyourthirst (smut, fluff, angst)

curiosity killed the cat • mafia!bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @queers-gambit (angst, kidnapping, mean!bucky)

help me • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky (angst, bucky's ptsd, comfort)

his everything • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @likeahorribledream (angst, fluff and insecure bucky)

the way he loves • bucky barnes x widow!reader

↳ by @lovelybarnes (aahh so fluffy so sweet)

patience • grumpy!bucky barnes x sunshine!reader

↳ by @sageandravens

it's called: freefall • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @kikixreverie

baking for bucky • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @itsplumwriter (so fluff, i wish i can bake for bucky too)

wrapped in affection • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @aikaterini-drag (very fluffy)

the signal • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @lostgirlmuseum (angst, a misunderstanding)

first time • bucky barnes x gn!reader

↳ by @ivybucky

i was born ready • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @whatthetumblfck (angst, kidnapping, ptsd?)

babysitting duty • bucky barnes x girlfriend!fem!reader

↳ by @nicoline1998enilocin (fluff)

here's looking at you, kid • boxer!bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @cryonme (angst, violence, tw: abuse)

knight in shining motorcycle • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @queen-of-the-avengers (almost sa, slight angst, comfort)

verity • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @cosmicbucky (angst, fluff, friends to lovers)

let it be known • mob!bucky barnes x bf!fem!reader

↳ by @kinanabinks

harvest heart • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @eloquentreverie (verry fluffy)

[yuurivoice]

BitterSweet Director's Cut......Timestamp Edition

00:00 Chapter 1.1 All In The Past

12:47 Chapter 1.2 Country Roads

21:50 Chapter 1.3 The Boys Are Fighting

32:55 Chapter 1.4 The Long Walk Home

55:30 Chapter 1.5 The Longer Walk Home

1:30:16 Chapter 1.6 Cinnamon Roll Blues

1:50:10 Chapter 1.7 Picking Up The Pieces (Of Us)

2:03:35 Chapter 1 Epilogue

2:10:45 Chapter 2.1 Home For The Holidays

2:22:18 Chapter 2.2 Can We Keep Him?

2:36:43 Chapter 2.3 Bruised And Battered

2:52:16 Chapter 2.4 Pizza Party

3:00:24 Chapter 2.5 The Winter Festival

3:17:45 Chapter 2.6 Christmas Eve Pillow Fort

3:35:05 Chapter 2 Epilogue

3:40:35 Chapter 3.1 Dark Mode

3:59:41 Chapter 3.2 Rail Road Confessions

4:15:37 Chapter 3.3 Crashing The Party

4:26:43 Chapter 3.4 Charlie The Pizza Rat

4:39:19 Chapter 3.5 No Use Crying Over Spilled Milk

4:52:52 Chapter 3.6 A Chat With Jessie

5:01:50 Chapter 3.7 Starry Night, Broken Heart

5:19:48 Chapter 3.8 Exhausting Charlie’s Dialog Options

5:33:19 Chapter 3.9 Boo’s Gambit

5:40:20 Chapter 3.10 A Race Against Time

5:57:23 Chapter 3.11 Time After Time

6:15:38 Chapter 3.12 Out With A Bang

6:43:39 Chapter 3.12 Post-Credits Scene

6:48:26 Chapter 3 Epilogue

[hannahbarberra162]

Master List

Do I take requests?

Drabble and One Shot Collection

Mating Call (Marco x Reader, dubcon, monster Marco) part 2

Stockade (WBP x reader, dark, dead dove, non con)

Opening + Thatch Hour 2- Atmos Hours 3 + 4 - Haruta and Vista

Hysteria (Marco X Reader, Dead Dove, dark, yandere Marco, Victorian AU)

Part 1 Part 2

Uncomfortably Numb (Yan Law x dentist Reader, slow build, dub con, four parts) Part 2 Part 3

Victoria Punk Breeding Farm and Part 2 (Reader x Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire, hybrid bull / cow AU, dark, non con) and Part 3 (which is consensual / fluffier, almost a standalone)

AU - Kid Gets Milked (also non-con)

Long Forgotten Fairytale (Shamrock x Reader, soft yandere)

Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4

Opposites of Attraction (Kid x Reader, enemies to idiots to lovers)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Snow Fall (Alpha!Izo x Omega!Reader)

On Ao3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Princess Treatment (Benn Beckman x OC, Rivals to Lovers, Slow Burn)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

A Negative Outcome, (WBP / Marco & reader, not romantic, dark, kidnapping)

But then starting in part 2 (Thatch x Reader, whump, caretaking, morally gray Marco) part 3 part 4 part 5

Emperor's Prize (ABO, Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader, angst, hurt / comfort, yandere, WIP)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Part 8

Alternate Ending "What If" with Shamrock "What If" Nice Shanks

The Crocodile's Gambit (Croc x Reader, no Y/N, fluff and angst, WIP)

The Crocodile's Gambit Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Heat Transfer (Yandere WBP x NagaReader) No Y/N, angst, fluff, pet-ification, WIP

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Meeting Shanks

Not My Monkey (Reverse Trope, Isekai reader, platonic strawhats, Reader x Jinbei)

on Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Under the Microscope (Yandere Sabo x F!Reader) no Y/N, WIP

On Ao3

hOrnithology for Beginners (18+ / MDNI) Marco X Reader (no Y/N) mostly silly fluff, a little angst, complete

On Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Can't Fix Fix A Broken Heart (18+ / MDNI) - 18+ / MDNI - DARK- Yandere Whitebeard Pirates (Marco x Thatch x Ace x Reader), complete, mind the tags.

Country Mouse, City Mouse (18+ / MDNI) - Sunshine X Grumpy with Mihawk, fluff, complete

On Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Struck Twice By Lightning (18+ / MDNI) - Second Chance Romance with Shanks, Complete, fluffy, some angst some smut, HEA

On Ao3

[dualumina]

@shifuto

old gif i made that was part of an edit for a friends OC, throwing it here bcs ppl may appreciate it xd

[foryoupeko]

Hi there. Sorry to bother you, but ever since I saw that you drew Kazuichi & Hiyoko for your talent swap AU, I couldn't help but be more curious about it & I had to wonder. While it seems like Nekomaru is the Ultimate Mechanic, who does Akane swap talents with? (Bonus question: Do you have any interest in doing talent swaps for the other games or not really?)

I forgot about my talentswap lol.

Sorry i'm not interested into doing talentswaps for the other games. Most likely I won't do anything if I cant' relate it back to kuzu/peko.

I changed Nekomaru to Ult Photographer bc I thought it would be cute that he first discovered his photography skills by taking pictures of his roommates in the hospital. And those pictures were the only things he had left when they died.

I cleaned up an old doodle to illustrate who was what.

Chapter 1 - Imposter knew Teruteru wasn't actually Byakuya bc he cooked for the real Byakuya, so he killed him thinking he was a threat

Chapter 2 - Gundham kills Nekomaru because he had damning evidence that would've sent Sonia to prison

Chapter 3 - Chiaki kills Ibuki and Hiyoko because... I think I made it that Chiaki was still an AI so the despair disease made her act against her coding

Chapter 4 - Kazuichi wanted to save everyone from starving but was too afraid to kill himself so he asked Peko to help him, Kazuichi thought since he was killing himself, Peko wouldn't be punished.

Chapter 5 - Hajime and Nagito does a final gambit together.

The survivors are Mikan, Sonia, Fuyuhiko, Mahiru, Akane... Not sure why there's a lot of girls...

[authorsofghosts]

He's real! | Horseman!Gambit x Reader | Pt. 3

Author's Notes: i am so sorry this one is short i just couldn't think of how to continue it without another big plot device that i wanted to save for the next chapter. @genderqueerbarbie777 beta read again :3

Summery: The X-Men come to save you and meet an unfamiliar familiar face.

Themes: ANGST, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Death, Previous Relationship, Betrayal, Cameos, Crying, Cursing, Death, Kidnapping, Panic Attacks (R's), R's a mutant/x-man (no powers described), Violence.

Word Count: 1.2k

first pt , prev pt

You cough as you feel Gambit quickly undo your bindings, letting you move freely as rumble and dust fills the room. You hear voices, besides his, calling out your name. You look at the man with his arms around you, eyes wide with fear, not knowing what's happening.

"Let 'em go, bub." You hear suddenly, looking to see Wolverine come from the smoke. He pauses as he looks at Remy, tilting his head. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Back off, Logan." Remy hisses, making the other man unsheathe his claws.

"What the- Yer not da Cajun. Ya can steal his looks an' voice, but you can't-" Wolverine is cut off as he smells the air, taking a step back.

"Wolverine!" A voice from the smoke, one you recognize as Scott's. "Who are you talking to-" He looks at Remy, hand rising to his visor. "Gambit?"

Your eyes widen as you see the two X-Men in front of you, looking at Gambit as you realize what's going to happen. Gambit grabs his baton with a smirk, "Don't worry, cher, I can handle myself." He extends and spins the rod before holding it at his side.

"Gambit, no!" You yell out, grabbing his by the sleeve of his coat, "P-please, you don't have to fight with Apocalypse!"

Remy looks back at you, his smirk fading as his brow furrows. He doesn't respond as he looks at Scott and Logan, who slowly approach. Gambit backs up, shielding you with his arm as he feels you press against his back. He narrows his eyes at his ex-teammates.

"Remy, you're alive?" Scott asks, his voice breaking slightly as he looks between the two of you. "That's... impossible!" The shaky air of the situation, glancing between all of the people in front of you, you can't help my shiver.

"Gambit!" You and Scott yell out in unison, Remy being sent back with a yellow blast that came from the palm of Mister Sinister. You run over to him and cradle his face in your hands before searching for his pulse point. "Please, please, God, fuck!"

"Don't worry, cher. Gonna take a lot mo' 'an that to knock ol' Gambit down." he says weakly, using his baton to sit up, You press your hand against his chest, holding him down as you continue to make sure he's okay.

"Come on, no, you're not going anywhere." You murmur, eyes looking over him as you spot something a little too late. A terrible, stupid mistake. Gambit cries out in pain as a green, sharp plantlike object goes straight through his chest, your eyes widening as you gasp. "Remy!" You cry, tears streaming down your face.

He grabs your face, barely able to move as he sinks down to the ground, sliding deeper on the hardened, mossy wood. He laughs softly as he looks up at you, eyes wide. "Mon amour, don't cry.... Gambit's bounced b-back from... worse" He talks, blood dripping from his lips and into your palm as you cup his cheek.

You press your forehead against his, shushing him softly as your tears fall down onto his face, "No, no you're not making it out of this.... please, please.... I love you." Your voice shakes as you weep, "Please, don't go, Remy, please..."

"Like you said, petit, I ain't goin' n'where." He laughs, clearly hurting himself as he does. He looks past you as Scott stands above the two of you. "Hey, Scotty boy..."

"Gambit, I-" Cyclops starts, putting his hand over his mouth as he truly takes in the sight. "I'm so sorry-"

"Naw, it's ain't nobody's... fault." Gambit groans, clearly trying to make his last moments slightly more comfortable. His eyes gaze back into yours, his pupils dilating and the red of his irises disappearing. "Don't beat chaself up. It was bound t' happen. This Cajun been kickin' a little too easy lately."

"Don't say that, no, Remy, please." You sob, pulling back and looking at the green, harden wood spear through his chest, trying to figure out what to do. You look up at Scott, eyes bloodshot and vision blurred by the constant flow of tears. "Please, we have to do something, Cyclops! Please-" you grab Scott's legs, "-we gotta keep him alive, please..."

"Remy, please..." You put your arms around him, holding him back, "Come back with us." You whisper softly, your nose planted into his shoulder blade.

"Listen to 'em, ya don't wanna make 'em start crying like last time, Cajun." Logan said, pulling off his mask as he looked at the two of you, taking another step forward.

Gambit's eyes flicked between the two in front of him and then you behind him. He sighed slightly before crackling a smirk. "I mean, you said it yourself, cher. You don't love me." He pushes you, throwing you into Wolverine's arms as he growled slightly. "You loved da old me, and I 'ain't him' huh?"

Cyclops put his fingers back up to his visor as he looked back at Gambit, "Remy-" He starts, quickly being cut off.

"Nope. Wrong number, mon ami." Gambit laughed darkly, "Name's Death." He smirked, running a hand through his silver locks before grabbing a card, lighting it with kinetic energy before throwing towards the feet of you and Wolverine.

"God damn it, not an'ther brainwashed idiot." Logan growls, pulling you away, "Come on, you ain't in no shape t' fight." He picks you up in his arms and slowly start walking backwards, looking between Scoot and gambit. "You got this, Cyke?"

"Yeah, I can handle him. Bring them to safety and head back A.S.A.P."

"Don't gotta tell me twice." He chuckles, slipping into the still dust cloud behind you both, "Jean! Storm!" He yells out, walking towards the hole in the wall where a door used to me. You tense as you realize more of the team are here, whether it be to save you or defeat Apocalypse, you can't believe that they found you so quickly.

Even if it was true you didn't know just how long you were down there, but by the look on everyone's faces when Logan brought you to them told you anything, it was quite a while. Wolverine sets you down next to Jean, who quickly holds you upright, "You alright?"

You nod, watching Wolverine turn back towards the room. "Storm, with me. Jean, take 'em outta hear. It might get ugly."

"No, please!" You call out, reaching for Logan's shoulder, "Don't hurt him! H-he's still in there, I'm just... stupid. I upset him."

Logan's eyes narrow at you before he rolls them, putting his mask back on. "Doesn't matter. That's not Remy, not the 'ne we knew."

"But he is! He remembers everything, he remembers us. All of us, I'm sure. He remembers me, specifically. And, I'm sure he... he cares deep down." You look at Jean, your face filled with as much worry as your voice. You sniffle slightly, "Please... don't kill him."

There was a silence between the X-Men for a few seconds before one sighed. "They're right. Gambit's still, well... himself." Jean said, walking in front of Wolverine. "If anyone can convince him to come back, it's them." She nodded towards you, a soft smile on her lips.

You didn't even have to ask what she meant, and she didn't tell you. You collected yourself before standing between Jean and Logan, looking towards the room where Scott was fighting Gambit, the sounds of cards exploding and lasers hitting walls echoing through the hall. "Let's go before one of them kills the other."

"My bet's on the Cajun"

"Shut the fuck up, Logan."

[lotstradamus]

Lottie, please help. I’ve been tricked many times before with the promise of a sexy, good sounding book only to be met with (in the kindest way possible) (I love that people are pursing their hopes and dreams) (I promise I’m not trying to be mean) writing that just ends up distracting me (I am critical). Can you rec any romance / smutty books that are top tier? I have loved your recommendations a lot through the years and trust your judgement. Captive Prince trilogy 5ever. 🤘🏼

well. I can. but with the caveat that I read 95% gay historical romance by One Author and 5% contemporary paranormal romance by One Author and I have absolutely recommended all of them before:

anything by KJ Charles, but especially: Think of England

The Will Darling Adventures #1-#3

The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting

The Doomsday Books #1-#2

A Charm of Magpies #1-#3

and then this entire series about Werewolf FBI, the punny titles and terrible covers of which you must ignore for the absolute TREASURE of character development and world-building that lies within

I have a very low tolerance for badly written shit and my foray into "regency" "romance" pushed me over the edge, so I am NOT broadening my horizons at this time. thank you.

p.s. if you are as tantalised by Prince's Gambit Chapter 1 to Chapter 17 as you are by Chapter 18 and beyond, Pacat's other series Dark Rise has enough UST to knock out an elephant.