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#yeah hope you enjoy i speedran this for i could get it out
what-aboutno · 4 months
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Big brother things
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DAMN CAP YOU COOKED THIS IS MASSIVE!! SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 72 OF PN BELOW BEWEAR!!
OHH SHE TOOK THE EARINGS WITH HER STEALING THEM ok i’m a fool right this makes sense. 
Girl. girl please. “You gotta trust me marinette I’m the only one you can trust” YOU WERE TRYING TO SCAM HER 
Love Fei, the dichotomy of man is so real with her
Damn brother what an intro, and then we snap back to Juleka pretending she is Batman. I hope she is at least enjoying running around on the rooftops she wanted to chapters ago
I genuinely can’t tell if girly has a concussion or not. I am one to be tricked by the narrator so since she’s saying she doesn’t i’m like “Oh ok, i trust you”
Aww cute Alya and Juleka friending it up real style, I like how Alya was begging panthera to find marinette, so real of her. 
Juleka: dont worry i actually do this super often
Alya: be concussed on a rooftop?
HA-
Yooo super soulmate tracking activated??
I still find the fact that Marinette said that they “speedran dating” to be hilarious
Fei panicking like this is her first sleepover is so silly style
AUGH NO MARINETTE IS NOT THE PERSON TO ADMIT YOU WANT TO KILL SOMEONE TO
Like i love girly but damn Fei you did not choose the right person to admit murderous intent to
Like maybe this is good for Fei to be told “hey girl that’s a bit far” but like let the girl get her emotions off her chest before invalidating them LB damn
Cash, my brother, fuck off. Fei, kick him in the balls, I command thee. 
She was being emotionally vulnerable! Let her have her moment! 
Damn brother, Cash really just hit Marinette with the fact that good people can do bad things for reasons they see as good, this will literally break her good people meter.
Panthera where be you
Ricky, ricky when I catch you ricky (me about Cash)
YES GIRL (marinette said screw you, i’m hype)
Oop- Marinette is fighting back, and now she pointed out the obvious (to us, not to Fei) 
Damn brother plot twist (which I forgor) 
Oh dear oh dear oh dear, poor Fei. Girly it’s ok he took advantage of you in a vulnerable state that’s not your fault augh I feel awful for her
NOOO HAWKCOCK RETURNS BAD TIMING FUCK OFF
Help “what’d her glove do?” his hysterical
She pointed at the little akuma resting on her finger, “Are you gonna eat that?”
“Obviously not! Are you- oh you are. Okay.” ok so. Can marinette eat akumas to purify them?
Hey did Fei just get a real concussion?? Exciting
Who are these random lesbians in my father’s ancient duty cave? I ACTUALLY LOST IT
Oh damn the prodigious have shown up this chapter! Nice. 
NAH NOT HAWKMOTH HAVING PTSD FROM PANTHERA HAAA
Sorry not many comments on this bit i’m too into it to write
Realest reaction to gaining super powers
Wha da hell the renlings are mad. I do not remember them from the shanghai special i just remembered big lion guy
Damn motherfucker this shit bangs
Fei having the time of her life is very fun, it’s also been rather novel to have so much not-Juleka POV lately! Though that tracks with how much you like Fei!
I do wonder if you’re going to have her show up outside of this arc or naw, I guess i shall wait and see >:3
Could these lesbians please focus? HELP FEI STOP BEING SILLY
Damn nobody wants her to kill Cash. except me, Kill him Fei. I demand thee. 
I mean i think it would permanently scar her, but yknow, character building gotta come from somewhere buddy
Goddamn!! That rocked. Fei kicked his ass, hell yeah. Glad she didn’t kill him though (shush i have layers)
Help the awkward after battle chat with Hawkmoth what is this
FEI HAS A POINT THIS IS WEIRD AS SHIT
Backstory?? For Cash?? Ohhhh its that fucker. Cash is the guy who- oh ok it’s all coming together
HELP THE CHAOS
YOOO LION AKUMA HELLLL YEAH
I’ve always thought his akuma was sick as fuck
HAWKMOTH DIED/??
HELP SO MUCH IS HAPPENING ROSE CALLED AND- GTVNBUREFI
Ok so my suspicion that Adrien will find out has dimmed, but the embers are still there. Maybe he’ll be vaporized. 
Yeah maybe now isn’t the time for impromptu therapy ladies
Hell yeah, Panthera for the emotional intelligence win you go girl
Oh no it went wrong, Fei running away from your problems doesn’t work this is an awful time to do that!
No because Fei literally challenges Marinnettes ideals of a good person, her black and white way of thinking about things has been a (interesting!) source of conflict throughout this but i don’t believe she has ever disagreed with someone in this way that she actually likes. Idk if this makes sense, basically what I’m saying is this could be an interesting way to develop her black and white view on good and evil
I have feelings about it all ok??
“I can’t think about this” YES YOU CAN LB
I’m curious when Juleka will use that power again, also what is it called?
HELP NO i am actually out of breath from how much i laughed at Juleka picking up the phone for Rose WHILE CLIMBING WHATS HIM NAME SHADOW OF THE COLLOSUS STYLE 
GIRL. HAVE SOME PRIORITIES. 
WAIT IWIAIT WIH3W
WHAY
WITA
JULEKA CALLED HER SUNBEAM? ISN’T THAT WHAT SHE CALLED ROSE AS PANTHERA OR AM I GOING INSANE
WAIT. ROSE HAS A CLUE NOW? I’M GOING INSANE CAP
CAP PLEASE
I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THE ROSE-JULEKA REVEAL FOR YEARS
WHEN. 
Sorry i went mad
In my head when LB was flung off the big guy she pinwheeled through the air silly style
Is. is fei just flying about crying? “A mournful cry” and “red and gold streaked above them” like. As a bird i think that counts as flying about for the fuck of it and sobbing it up real style
It has been. A week maybe more. Sorry got distracted read 1.4 mill for another work got way too invested, we are so back though
And back to Fei’s POV epic crying girl montage qued
“And it was all her fault” girl please, there is a dickhead called HM and I think it’s more his fualt than yours, get over yourself
The renlings are so cool, the dialogue you had them do was mega cool cap
Dragon renling is bad ass, personally i would name them. He is now dubbed; Daniel.
Damn move over Juleka, there’s a new therapist in down, his name is Daniel the Dragon
Oh thank fuck, when Daniel said forgive i was like bitch Cash doesn’t deserve that, but forgiving herself makes so much sense. 
Not Panthera offering to fix her makeup- Juleka is so sweet girl
“We’ve got your back, Fei.” Ladybug exclaimed, “L-Like; If you need a plan, I’ve got one. I’ve got a great plan. I just need a GIANT jug- this made me lose it. What the fuck LB what would a giant jug do pray tell
YEAH DRAGON TIME
Sorry, that piece about her dad was lovely and it was awesome to read, it swept me up so i just ended up saying dragon time
Hm how does the dragon speak if it doesn’t have lips (in my head) 
No because ack what is this plan that involves a giant vase. Panthera you go girl don’t let her get eaten by another akuma, the dinosaur was enough. What will they do for Feast if not be eaten though that is the real question
Ya girly Fei just kicked kaiju ass in under 5 minutes because their timers were going off so, current MVP of the series; Fei, followed by Juleka for her metallica moment
Aww Mei Shi is adorable
He's so nice help
WHERE DID HE GO
Also wonderful break POV, that was a good line
Get his ass gang, cash is a dick
MEI SHI IS ADORABLE YAYAY AND SMALL
Fei has like 13 friends now. Is there 12 renlings or no i can’t remember
“Ooh sounds yummy.”
“You sounded a lot more professional as a robot guardian guy.”
“I was. Now I’m small and terrible.”
“Joy.” I LOVES HIM SO MUCH HE IS SO BABY!!! If only they returned to Paris with LB and Panthera, he could be friends with plagg.
Juleka now has a favor… 
Oh yeah plagg realised he could leave the ring while Juleka is transformed. That feels like an important detail. 
“OH MY GOD I HAVE PARENTS.” i love marinette. I loved this whole interaction actually, “water under the bridge, forced under the bridge” and all that was really funny
Also the fact that Adrien didn’t know your not allowed to sleep with a concussion has me concerned. 
Oh yay!! Juleka and Fei ‘therapy’ session
“That’s our everyday Ladybug!”
“AHA. YEAH. THAT SAYING. LANKS ADRIEN. I MEAN THANKS LADRIEN. THANKS. ADRIEN. AHAH.” realest reaction to that
The ending was very cosy, lots of fun :3
Finito!!!!!!! Amazing chapter Cap, ten out of ten, no a hundred out of ten is more fitting. I look forward to what comes next >:3
DANIEL I’m wheezing
I’m so glad you enjoyed bud! I’m gonna try and keep Fei in her lane for the rest of the fic or else my favoritism will show.
as for Panthera’s “special mode”, that’s called Mass Obliteration!
Plagg leaving the ring while Panthera is transformed is a marker on how much experience she’s had being Panthera.
When characters are transformed, they absorb that Kwami’s power to wear the suit. Then they expend a lots of that magic to use their powers and if they’re young and haven’t used that miraculous much- or don’t have lots of magic in general- then that magic is pretty much depleted to nothing once that power is used and their battery runs out after five minutes.
The Kwami is like the power source to the holder’s battery/charge, with the miraculous being the chord between them. Usually you need them “plugged in” aka in the miraculous at all time when the holder is transformed. However! Panthera’s gotten so used to Plagg’s essence that even if he leaves the ring for a bit, she can stay transformed as she has a bit of his magic to naturally spare. I hope that makes sense I’m babbling. Thank you to my buddy @ghostatjoes for that lore.
The base was in the original Shanghai episode. Ladybug’s plan was to get vored and break the akuma from the inside. It had organs. Mei Shi had organs. I was so disturbed, I didn’t wanna write that— and also I felt like Ladybug overhauling Fei’s fight was wrong. That was HER villain yknow. Wanted Fei to finish it all by herself.
I’m glad you enjoyed! This was def one of my favorite chapters ever to write. I think the size is an obvious indicator. I hope you guys enjoy Season 3! It’s coming I swear. I’m just writing a fun chapter before I drag you all into my hole of hell that I’ve been stewing over for years.
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xnchxntmxnt · 2 years
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oh my GOD 500 FOLLOWERS THAT IS AMAZING you deserve more
can I please (for your mini event) get me n KOJIRO NANJO OF COURSE and literally anything fluffy I'm not too picky lol
one of my favorite songs is currently homeward bound by simon & garfunkel, I feel like that could make a nice idea??
homeward bound
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Fandom: Sk8 The Infinity
Characters: Kojiro Nanjo
Warnings: long-distance relationship, a little cursing, one brief food mention. not proofread
Notes: literally how fast i speedran this bc i love this?? kojiro deserves more love on this blog i hope u enjoy my love /p
gn!reader!
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Home, where my thought's escaping Home, where my music's playing Home, where my love lies waiting
Kojiro checked the clock. It was midnight—seven for you, but he knew you were up early since you had to work today. He decided to call you and hoped he didn’t wake you up early.
When you answered, you didn’t sound half asleep, so he guessed it was a good time. “Kojiro!” you exclaimed, and he could hear your grin through the phone. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” he admitted, putting his phone on speaker and setting it down so he could get dressed for bed. “How’s your morning so far?”
“Good, so far. Coffee just hit, though, so I’m just waking up. How was your day?”
“Great. We made these cool pastries in class and then a couple friends and I went out for dinner.”
It was quiet for a little while. He sat back down and picked his phone up, holding it between his ear and shoulder to talk to you. “Only a couple more days, and I’m all yours.”
“I know.”
“And I’ll be there for three weeks.”
“I know.”
He sighed and smiled. It was a rough situation the two of you were stuck in, but you decided that you'd make it work when he left for culinary school in Italy two years ago. And you did. He’d been home to visit in that time, but it was only for a little while before he was gone again. He wanted to do everything he could to be with you, but he also knew you’d kill him if he gave up his dream for you. 
“We’ll be ok, Kojiro,” you said, hugging him tight in the airport, almost like you didn’t want to let go. He wasn’t sure if you were saying it to reassure him or you, but he needed it either way. The two of you were going to see each other in a few months, and in that time, you’d talk as much as you could between classes and work. 
He nodded, keeping his head buried in your shoulder. “I know we will. We always have.”
And you both kept that promise. He was every bit as in love with you two years ago when he left the first time as he was right now. After…what was it, nearly four years of dating? However long it had been, he was pretty sure nothing could come between the two of you now. Not even 6,000+ miles. 
“Unfortunately, I’m sleepy,” he yawned. He blew a kiss through the phone. “I love you, (Y/N).”
“I gotta get to work, yeah. I love you too, Kojiro. Sleep well. Feel free to call me when you wake up because I’ll be done by then.”
“Will do. Night!”
“Night, sleepyhead.”
He set his phone on his bedside table and laid down, looking at the box next to his phone. You’d see it soon enough, he reminded himself. Now he’s just gotta have the guts to ask, huh?
**
The trip home went smoothly, as did getting back to your apartment. He reminded you Kaoru offered to let him crash on his couch every time he visited in case you weren’t comfortable living with him for a few weeks. However, every time, he found himself laying on the couch with you clung to him within an hour of walking in the door. 
There he was, again, laying on your couch, watching TV, while dealing with killer jet lag. There was no place he’d rather be, though—he texted his sister and Kaoru, telling them he was home safe, and he’d see them later that week. For now, though, he was perfectly content snuggled up to you while you played with his hair. 
“Hey, I, uh…I got something for you,” he said, shifting so he could reach in his pocket. 
You picked your head up in curiosity, turning to sit up when he nudged you in that direction. “You already gave me that souvenir t-shirt, what else is there?”
It was now or never, he figured. “I’m gonna get you something better in the future, I swear, but…”
Kojiro brought the box out from behind him and opened it, displaying a plain gold ring with a small (albeit, fake) diamond in the center. “I…shit, I had all this planned out—”
When he looked up at you, all he could see was your smile. It seemed like you were at a loss for words, opening your mouth several times to speak but nothing came out. 
“Look, (Y/N), I…I wanna do this right. I want to be home with you all the time and finish school first, but…”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t even let me spit the question ou—”
The rest of his words were muffled. You jumped at him, knocking him backward, and kissed him with as much (if not, more) energy as you had when you picked him up from the airport just a few hours earlier. 
He smiled at you when you pulled away, just enough to lean your forehead against his. “So, you wanna marry me, huh?”
“I can’t wait to.”
He was never happier to be home.
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@kodzukoi @tama-jam @sirimirihiro @emswordss @b3tterth4nm3 @momoewn + @cvut & @iwaso bc you two arent on my taglist but i think you'd enjoy this idk
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Prey who lose a very substantial bet in a Pred run casino and can only pay it back via noms (fatal or non fatal will work for this)
(I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a hot minute, but I never really knew where to go with this. I’m a huge sucker for bar/gambling stuff, but the way I like it is so specific that half the time *I’m* not even sure how to go about it. I was kind of tempted to do something with a Zootopia/Beastars kind of thing but decided to just go with G/t. There are so many kinds of branching ideas/different variations that I might eventually come back to something similar in the future.
I also have ZERO experience with casinos, so, uh, I kind of made some bullshit up with what little I know. Hence the absolute dumbassery of the main character in this, lol. The questions they ask?... Yeah, I was asking them to a friend that’s actually been to casinos and gambled.
That being said, hope you enjoy this! Sorry for, just, how *long* it takes to get to the vore. I speedran 80% of this last night too, so sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes!)
The Unlucky Clover
TW: Drinking; Unwilling, nonsexual, nonfatal, safe, soft oral vore; mention of drugs; implication/fear of digestion
Words: 7663
The lights and sounds as I opened the door and stepped into the casino were disorienting. Overwhelming for people like me who were more of the shut-in type and probably downright dangerous for anyone with phobias or sensitivities to this kind of thing. But, the whole stretch of street was lined with buildings flashing neon lights and music meant to catch passerby’s attention long enough for curiosity to set in so they’ll walk inside. I don’t think anyone came to visit with the thought of peace and quiet in mind.
Logically and cynically I knew that everything was meant to appeal to natural human faults to get people inside and keep them in, but I was also aware that I wasn’t immune to it. And, for tonight, that was fine. I was visiting, I’d never been to a casino, and I only had a set amount of money so that I wouldn’t go bankrupt.
The place I’d happened to walk into was called the Clover, probably meant to try and give people a ‘lucky’ feeling because of the whole four-leafed clover good luck thing. That was my best guess, at least.
Though, there wasn’t much green on the inside that I could see, mostly more attention-grabbing colors like reds and yellows. There also wasn’t a front desk, just a large entry landing that led down to the rest of the casino with a couple steps. There were a few ATMs against the wall beside a few palm plants, but other than that there weren't any, uh, normal entry procedures? 
I don’t know, the closest thing I could think of to a casino that I’d been to were places like Dave & Busters where there was a front desk and people to greet you at it where you buy a game card or something and then you go inside after paying. This was so open and direct to the wall of slot machines between the entrance and the rest of the casino, it almost felt like trespassing. 
But, what was more awkward? Standing around by the entrance to try and figure out where to go and what to do? Or wandering around doing the same thing, but you’re moving, so people are less likely to bother you?
I opted for the wandering around option.
I tried to not look as lost as I felt as I forced myself down the steps from the entry landing and walked past the first line of slot machines through a decently large gap between some. But, it wasn’t just one wall of machines. There were several rows in a weird staggering kind of pattern that I had to weave through to continue forward. Coupled with pillars, seats, and so many people, I almost immediately felt drained. 
At the very least, I could see that people were just feeding the machines with cash bills. I knew gambling involved chips a lot, but I had no idea how those worked.
Past the initial, practically defensive wall of slot machines, there were more further inside, but they were scattered around the place instead of clumped up in such a hassling way. Probably to tempt drunk, desperate or tired people to think ‘Oh, just one more game’ and potentially milk whatever winnings someone earns back before they leave. 
There were all kinds of game tables around and I could even see two mini bars on the floor. Poker, that weird game where you drop a ball and it lands in a wheel, someone was even playing some kind of VR gambling thing, and several other games that I probably knew the name of but wouldn’t be able to correlate to the unfamiliar tables and movements. And that was only what I could see, there seemed to be even more past pillars and machines that were all around the room.
Finding the main room a bit much for now, I decided to try one of the slot machines, sitting down at an empty machine and pulling out a dollar. Start off small, right?
I watched someone out of the corner of my eye so that I did the machine right, mimicking their motion and watched the little images flick by. Was it triple 7’s that were good? Was it different for each machine? There was probably some way to do this and I probably already fucked up, somehow, but I just told myself that I had a hundred dollar limit. Even if I lost it all just messing around with things, it wasn’t a huge loss.
The machine made its three noises as the images stopped on… a triple cherry? I wasn’t sure what that meant, but the little screen beneath the three pictures flashed “5$! 5$! CASH OUT OR KEEP PLAYING?”. So, I guess I earned four dollars? Curious, I selected “Keep Playing”. It asked me if I wanted to bet the five dollars or give it more physical money to use. I decided to give it another dollar and spun it again. This time, the slots were all mixed up and it gave nothing back other than the words on the screen, “OOPS! BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!”.
Letting out a small hum, I nodded to myself as I filed away the new information. Scrambled icons meant a lost bet, got it.
So, I spent the next little while at the slot machines, alternating between giving the machine physical cash and using the winnings I slowly began to accrue. I got really excited when a ten dollar bet returned fifty dollars with another triple cherry and a few more dollars amounted to smaller winnings that also added, but my energy quickly began to fade as several more tries at the machine led to jumbled icons that meant another dollar wasted. Any remaining interest and excitement that wasn’t dwindled away turned into dismay when another play on the slots gave me three bomb icons that ‘destroyed’ whatever winnings were in the machine.
Whatever questioning I had about why people couldn’t just keep playing all night instead of cashing out low numbers was now answered.
“Goddamnit,” I hissed to myself under my breath, not even able to hear my voice over the drone of the casino. I mentally tallied how much money I’d lost to the machine and was relieved that I had seventy-eight dollars still, only having lost twenty-two to the slots. And I probably would have lost a lot more to my hubris and ignorance if the triple bomb hadn’t popped up.
Letting out a long exhale, I pushed aside the instinctive craving to continue and stood up. Weaving through people walking around and the gaming tables in the way, I walked to one of the bars in the massive room. I was thinking that, at the very least, I could have a drink or two to make coming here feel somewhat worth it before leaving even if I lost the rest of my hundred dollar allotment.
There were a couple people at the bar counter on the available stools, but most people seemed to just be walking up and grabbing their drinks to take back to whatever game table they were playing at. 
I decided to sit at one of the stools near the end of the small bar, thankfully devoid of immediate bar neighbors on either side. I barely even settled and had the thought of what I potentially wanted to drink before the bartender quickly came over. Given the amount of activity and noise, I had been expecting at least a second to gather my thoughts before I was noticed.
“‘Ey, what can for you,” the bartender greeted, a woman in a black and green uniform. It looked nice, black button-up shirt and pants with a green swirly designed vest. There was a nametag, but I was too caught off guard to read it.
“Oh, uh, you guys do Amaretto Sours,” I asked, reaching for my wallet.
“Got everything for practically any named drink you could think of,” she replied, immediately pulling out a glass and shaker from behind the counter. “ID?”
I showed her my card showing that I was over twenty-one, and she nodded, quickly moving around the bar as she added the ingredients to the shaker and scooped ice into the glass from something behind the counter.
“Orange or lemon wedge,” she poured the drink into the glass over the ice and spun around to open the fridge.
“Uh, lemon wedge, I guess.” I’d never gotten Amaretto Sours with lemon wedges before.
“Alright, here you go,” the bartender turned back around with the finished drink, complete with the familiar single maraschino cherry and a lemon slice placed on the lip of the glass. She placed the glass down in front of me and turned to tend someone else at the counter, but I tried to catch her attention.
“Uh, wait,” I said, feeling a bit awkward when she turned back towards me. Sheepishly, I asked, “Don’t I, uh, need to pay?”
She blinked at me in surprise and confusion, replying, “Well, you’re not leaving the counter yet, are you?”
“I, well, no, but I’d rather pay for each upfront if that’s alright,” I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling like that was a very laissez faire way to go about alcohol payments. Then again, my experience was limited to only a few bars and this place had security, so maybe they were just really confident that would dissuade people from stealing or leaving without paying. 
Besides, I couldn’t exactly start a proper tab without my card.
“Suit yourself,” the bartender shrugged after a couple moments, reaching for a card reader attached to the belt on her hip and pulling it off. She punched in a few buttons as I pulled out a ten - I decided she could keep the change if they couldn’t break a ten at the bar - and read out, “Alright, your total for one Amaretto Sour is-.”
“Taken care of.”
I jolted at the sudden voice from my right side, almost knocking over my glass as I looked over to see who was there. A tall dude who felt way too well-dressed compared to half the casino in vacation wear approached the counter on my right, basically taking the space and making a part of me grumble internally at the proximity. Giving him a glance over he had dark brown hair that was styled short and looked like he probably used some kind of gel or pomade, and his shirt was almost black compared to the far lighter tan of his pants.
“Uuuuh,” I frowned in confusion and surprise, trying to process his sudden appearance.
“Put it on my tab,” the man told the bartender, tapping the bar with a finger and I found my attention momentarily drawn to the glint of the rings on his hand in the casino light. There were three, one on every proper finger other than his middle.
Whoever this guy was, he must have been here earlier and given them his card already because the bartender nodded and printed a receipt to probably add to whatever other drinks the guy’s card had to charge him at the end of the night.
“I- you-you didn’t have to buy my drink,” I said automatically, the bartender already turned to take care of other customers. Unless I wanted to draw attention to myself trying to push for her to charge me instead, I was just going to have to live with the fact that this guy bought my drink. At least I already watched this one get poured, so I knew nothing was in it. That still didn’t stop the suspicion that came from some random person buying my drink.
“I know I didn’t have to, but I occasionally like to buy a couple people’s drinks when I'm here,” the man leaned on the counter with his forearms. I could see a couple people giving me some envious looks out of the corner of my eye that made me feel more self-conscious. Not like I *asked* him to buy my drink. “Name’s Arnoldo.”
“Right… well, thanks, I guess,” I took a sip from my drink, hoping that the man - pardon me, *Arnoldo* - would take the hint and just kind of… leave me alone.
Of course, he didn’t. 
“You ever been here before,” he asked, dangerously close to the cheesy kind of pickup line that everyone knew about and I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“Nope,” I replied, wondering how rude chugging my drink and just walking away would be. I settled for just taking another, larger swig of the Amaretto Sour, internally sighing and hoping that he would eventually become bored and walk away if I forced myself to only give small responses.
“Hmm,” Arnoldo seemed to struggle with my short reply, eventually saying, “Well, how are you liking it so far?”
“Uh, it’s alright, I guess,” I shrugged, glancing back towards the rather overwhelming room. “Bit loud for my tastes, but I figured I’d give it a shot.”
“Well, it is a casino. They’re not exactly known for being the quietest places on Earth,” the man chuckled, making my face heat up a bit in embarrassment.
“Well, I know that, but you asked how I liked it,” I took an embarrassed gulp of my drink, focusing on the burn it caused down my throat to try and distract me from it. “I was just being honest…”
“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean it any type of way,” Arnoldo quickly responded, seeing him raise his hands a bit in the universal gesture of meaning no harm. The motion caught my attention and I looked over to see him look mildly apologetic. Giving him a bit more of a look, he seemed friendly, at least. I still wanted to keep up my guard, of course, but he sounded sincere. “I just think it’s kind of funny that someone would comment on something so expected. I take it that you don’t get out much then.”
“Not really, no,” I said, swirling my glass. “Coming here was kind of just a bucket list, giving it a try sort of deal. ”
“Well, what have you tried so far?”
“Uh… slots?”
“That… That’s it,” Arnoldo asked, raising an eyebrow. He shifted to look at me a bit more fuller, leaning entirely on his right arm as he turned to face me. “I hope you were at least going to try one of the other games. Just playing slots isn’t a very good experience.”
“I don’t know, maybe. I don’t know how any of the other games work,” I downed the rest of my glass anxiously, not really wanting to divulge that I had been planning to immediately leave. Placing the glass on the counter, it was quickly swept away by the bartender, who was quick to place it out of sight where used cups were probably stacked to be cleaned.
“You wanting another one,” she asked, and before I could respond to her, Arnoldo did.
“Put it on my tab if they’re getting another,” he said, giving the counter a tap. “And I’ll actually have an Irish Coffee for myself.”
I frowned, not really wanting all of my drinks to be on him, but sighed. “I guess I’ll have another Amaretto Sour… I should probably head out soon, I have to go meet a friend back at the hotel later.”
A lie, but maybe the thought of someone expecting me somewhere would prevent the guy from trying anything. Especially with another drink on the way.
The bartender nodded and started making both of our drinks, something I tried to keep an eye on still.
“I won’t stop you from leaving, but surely I can try and help you try some other type of game,” Arnoldo suggested, gesturing to the rest of the casino floor. “I’m sure you can get a hang of Blackjack, at least.”
“Uhh, which one’s Blackjack,” I asked, grabbing my glass as the bartender slid it to me and watching her walk over to the tiny coffee pot that had started boiling. Having seen nothing be poured or placed in my drink other than the normal ingredients, I took a sip as I mulled over the potential danger of accepting his offer to help me play a game. 
“Card game,” he said, looking towards where I assumed the Blackjack tables were. “Basically, everyone gets handed a card at a time and can ask for another card or to stay and hold their number. You’ve got the Ace’s through ten which amount to the number they are with the Jacks being eleven, Queens being twelve, and the Kings being thirteen. The aim of the game is to try and get as close to the number twenty-one without going over against the dealer. Whoever gets the closest to twenty-one, or whoever gets twenty-one gets the amount they bet from the dealer. During home games, whoever gets closest gets the pot.”
“... Pot?” I asked, frowning a bit in confusion. The surprised look on his face told me that I’d questioned something rather basic.
“The pot is the collective of chips people bet on the game,” Arnoldo explained, smiling in amusement. 
“Oh,” I sighed in exasperation at myself, planting my face in my palm with a groan. “I- sorry. You were explaining the mechanics of the game, so I thought it was a game thing…”
“Well, it is a game thing, but that’s just what the bets are called across the board.”
“Cool, cool. Well, learn something new everyday,” I dropped my hand from my face and took a swig of my drink. Even if I felt embarrassed to all hell, at least I still had the alcoholic tang of my Amaretto Sour.
“If you’re willing, I can help you out with one round,” he said, grabbing his Irish Coffee as the bartender finished it up and placed it on the bar counter.
I hummed a bit in thought. Part of me wanted to just go to the hotel I was staying at and just chill for the rest of the night. But, another part of me was curious about the other games, and if someone was willing to kind of show me the ropes, then my curiosity was peaked a bit further. And damn if I wasn’t a sucker for my curiosity. 
“Eh, fine,” I swiveled in my barstool and hopped off with my drink in hand. “One game, then I’ll probably head out.”
“Sounds good to me,” Arnoldo straightened from his leaning position. I didn’t realize how tall he was while he was leaning beside me, but when he stood up I had to crane my neck to look up at him. I don’t even think I was shoulder height for him. He took a sip of his Irish Coffee and started walking towards one of the tables, saying, “Blackjack’s this way.”
“Uh, right,” I trailed behind him as he walked towards the tables. Whether he was mindful of his stride for me or he was slowed by the amount of people walking around, I was just glad I wouldn’t have to awkwardly trot behind him or speedwalk with the risk of spilling my drink. Eventually he slowed beside a semi-circle table with a person in green and black uniform on the flat side and an empty curved side with markings on the green surface. The table could hold five people along the edge, so with Arnoldo and I it left three spaces for others.
“Hey there,” the man behind the table greeted, pausing in his shuffling of cards.”Welcome to Blackjack! You waiting on anyone else?”
“No, no, just my friend and I here for now,” Arnoldo stated, placing his Irish Coffee in the cupholder at his spot. 
I did the same for my drink at my spot after taking another long swig of it. I could already feel the slight fuzziness that came with becoming tipsy, so I decided that two was good enough for me.
“Alright, how much are each of you betting,” the dealer asked, shuffling the cards one last time before placing the deck face-down in front of himself.
“Uh, ten dollars,” I said, pulling out a ten and handing it to the dealer. He put the cash in a pack on his hip and placed a single chip with the number ten on its side in the little circle icon in front of my spot. 
“I’ll be betting fifty,” Arnoldo drank from his Irish Coffee for a moment. The dealer didn’t ask for any cash and Arnoldo didn’t offer any cash or card. Yet, despite that, the dealer nodded and pulled out a chip with ‘50’ on its side and placed it in his circle.
I didn’t make a comment, shrugging internally. The guy did say that he was here often, so he was probably recognized. That, and if he had a tab already going, then the staff might have a way of knowing whose card was at the bar.
The dealer took a card off the top of the deck three times and placed one in front of himself, Arnoldo, and I. Respectively, the numbers ended up as ‘10’, ‘5’, and ‘8’. He looked between us and asked us if we wanted to stay or continued, and we obviously both decided to continue. All of us ended up less than ‘21’ still, with the closest being Arnoldo at ‘17’ with a Queen added to his cards. One more round went around and I ended up with ‘20’ while both the dealer and Arnoldo went over twenty-one.
“Congratulations on your first win,” Arnoldo said as the dealer reached into the chip holder and grabbed a ten chip to slide towards me. “You’ve doubled your chips with it.”
“What about your chip,” I asked, gesturing to his fifty chip before grabbing my Amaretto Sour and drinking some more for a moment.
“Since the dealer and I both went bust in the same turn, it’s considered a tie here,” he explained, drinking the last of his Irish Coffee. He flagged down one of the staff walking around with drinks and empty glasses on trays, placing his glass on the tray with a ‘Thank you’ and ordering another Irish Coffee. I suppose they floated around in case people didn’t want to leave their tables to go to one of the bars. “Neither I or the dealer pays the bet.”
“Makes sense, I guess.” I glanced down towards my two ten dollar chips. It wasn’t a substantial leap, but it also hadn’t been a substantial bet. And yet, I felt a bit of serotonin at the win that mixed with the warm buzz pleasantly.
“Are you playing another round,” the dealer asked, reshuffling the card deck.
Arnoldo didn’t answer first this time like he had with the bartender, instead looking at me expectantly to let me answer. I hummed a bit, checking my phone to check the time for a second before shrugging and going, “Sure, why not? All in.”
I slid my second ten dollar chip into my betting pool and Arnoldo nodded, adding, “I’ll also play another round.”
The dealer nodded and we proceeded to play again. And again. And again.
More people even came and joined the table to play between rounds, and I wasn’t as anxious with my one and a half glasses of alcohol in my system. I would even hazard to say that I was enjoying myself, even as I lost a round that I had bet twenty dollars on. It wasn’t that disheartening when I’d managed to double my bets a couple times with more money than I came in with in the amount of chips.
At some point I decided to try some other games at Arnoldo’s suggestion, taking my glass with me and the chips I’d gathered. The glass felt heavier, but attributed it to my buzz since it still just tasted like Amaretto Sour to me.
I tried Poker, but only played a few rounds since I found it difficult to bluff, though I did win the last game surprisingly. Taking sips between games, we played Baccarat, Craps, Roulette, and I eventually found that we’d made our way back to another Blackjack table. My head swam at this point, but I was having a good time, taking another swig of my drink as I won another Blackjack game with a full ‘21’.
“Yes,” I exclaimed, the rush of serotonin more prominent in my drunken state. The dealer handed me a hundred dollar chip that I added to my collection that had slowly grown over the night. I think I had about five hundred dollars worth of chips on me.
“You’re having much more luck than I,” Arnoldo sighed, crossing his arms after sliding his bet of fifty dollars to the dealer that accepted with a smile and placed it in the box. The man tapped a finger against the table, rings glinting, and suggested, “How about a round of Ultimate Texas Hold’em?”
“What’s that,” I asked, sipping my Amaretto Sour and leaning on the edge of the Blackjack table.
“It’s like Poker,” he started to explain, laughing when I made a face. “Now, hold up, hear me out. It’s only against the dealer, not the dealer and everyone at the table, so you should have an easier time of it. There’s a few other rules that I think would make it easier for you as well.”
“Mmmm, yeah, why not,” I straightened, making sure I had my chips and everything else. Thankfully, I hadn’t lost my wallet or phone despite my brain feeling so light from alcohol.
I followed Arnoldo to a different corner of the casino floor, checking my phone on the way. I probably should go soon, it was already after midnight. Though the casino was open 24/7, I could tell that I was properly drunk and questioned if I was going to have gaps in my memory tomorrow, wondering just how much Amaretto liquor was in my drinks.
Reaching the Ultimate Texas Hold’em table, which was just another Poker table, Arnoldo tried to explain the game to me. I tried to listen and retain the information, but it slipped through my memory immediately. Oh well, I’d just have this be my last game of the night. 
“Hey, I think I’m gonna head out after this,” I told Arnoldo, seeing him flick his wrist to look at his watch and check the time, nodding his head.
“Better make this one count then, huh?” he asked, settling in one of the chairs.
“Yup,” I sat down and chugged the rest of my drink, finally finishing it after a couple hours of games. I felt like I should have finished it a long time ago, but better late than never. I placed the glass down and heard the dealer ask about our bets, hearing Arnoldo say ‘five’ something, immediately thinking he said ‘five hundred’ and telling the dealer, “I’ll match.”
I saw them blink in surprise before shrugging and the game started. I could barely focus, the numbers and symbols on the cards practically swimming in front of my eyes, so I wasn’t surprised when I ended up losing to the dealer. I groaned and sighed as I tossed down my hand in defeat, pulling out my chips and sliding them towards the dealer.
“And, the other forty-five hundred,” the dealer asked, the question catching me off guard in my tired and drunk stupor.
“I- forty-five hundred?” I repeated in confusion, looking at the dealer with a frown. 
“Mr. Lason bet five thousand and you said you’d match,” the dealer said, nodding towards Arnoldo who was sipping on another drink.
“I..” I blinked a bit in slack-jawed surprise, jolting in my seat. “Sh-Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t have anything more than my chips other than, like fifty dollars! I left my card to try and not have this happen. Is there, uh, is there a way I can pay in increments?”
The dealer frowned and opened their mouth to say something, but Arnoldo interrupted, pulling his glass from his lips and offering, “How about you play another round? Double or nothing. If you win, you get ten thousand.”
“But if I lose again, that just means I owe ten thousand,” I protested, any pleasantness from drinking gone. Now it was only the fuzzy swimming of my scrambled thoughts and panic as I realized that I’d unintentionally fucked up.
“True, true,” Arnoldo placed his glass down and seemed to think something over, though it seemed fake to me. Maybe that was the alcohol. After a second or two, he suggested, “How about this? Since I suggested it, if you lose, you just have to let me get you one last drink and you won’t have to worry about the payment.”
“I- What,” I asked, shaking my head in confusion. I couldn’t have heard him right. “You want me to play one more round, and if I lose I don’t have to worry about the payment and you’ll just get me one last drink?”
“That’s correct,” he replied, waiting for my response.
A bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach, but I didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or the panic of potential debt to a casino. Arnoldo was giving me an out, even willing to take responsibility of my loss. I just hoped he wouldn’t go back on his word.
“I-I guess I don’t have many options,” I sighed, trying to shake off my drunken daze. I needed to be as clear-headed as possible for this next round, but I doubted I’d be able to win. At the very least, I only had to have one last drink. “Thanks, Arnoldo.”
Looking at the dealer, I begrudgingly said, “Double or nothing.”
The dealer nodded, dealt the hands, and I found myself beat within minutes despite trying my hardest to focus and win. I could feel a stress headache coming on, but at least the ordeal was over. I looked towards Arnoldo, half-expecting the man to not even be there to leave me with a ten thousand dollar mistake. But, he was still sat there in his seat and flagged over one of the walking staff's attention to order me another drink.
“Well, you tried your best,” Arnoldo placed his glass on the waiter's tray, glancing at them and adding, “Amaretto Sour, please.”
“Didn’t make much of a difference,” I groaned, scrubbing my face with both hands for a second as the waiter walked away. Looking towards him, I apologized, “I’m so sorry I fucked up like that, but thank you *so* much. I really owe you, dude.”
Even though I had zero idea of how to repay the favor.
“Well, good news is that I’m pretty sure that’ll be easy to do.”
“Really,” I asked, surprised. And a bit suspicious.
Arnoldo let out a confirmative hum as the waiter came back with my drink rather quickly thanks to our close proximity to one of the bars, grabbing the glass while I groaned and buried my face in my hands tiredly with the feeling of shame and embarrassment. I looked up after a moment, taking the glass as he held it out to me with a quiet thanks.
I drank a swig of the drink, grimacing with the knowledge that I was going to wake up with a lot of regret tomorrow and asked, “Do I have to drink all of the glass?”
“No,” Arnoldo shook his head. “A sip was fine. I’m not gonna stop you if you want to finish it.”
“That- Okay,” I said in confusion, shaking my head to try and clear it before taking another sip. I stood up with the intent to return the cup and added, “Well, thank you again. I really need to head to my hotel though.”
“I don’t think you’re in much shape to be left on your own,” the man replied, though he didn’t stand up from his seat.
“It’s not too far, I think I can handle the walk,” I turned to walk to the closest bar, barely making a few steps before a wave of dizziness washed over me. I gasped in surprise, quickly reaching out to catch myself as my knees buckled beneath me. An arm around my abdomen stopped me from falling all the way to the ground and a hand caught my drink, though it did end up spilling.
“Oh dear,” Arnoldo’s voice was right beside me and I was helped to my feet. “Perhaps that last drink was a bit much with the ones you’d already had.”
“I-I don’t know why they’re affecting me so much,” I frowned, head swimming more. It took a considerable amount of effort to not slur in my nauseousness. “I only had two.”
“You had a bit more than two,” the man replied, confusing me further. He walked to the bar and handed the bartender the glass. I think they asked if I was alright, but another wave of dizziness had me mostly just focusing on not hurling. I just heard Arnoldo’s answer. “Don’t worry, they’ll be taken care of.”
My vision swam as he walked me from the bar, closing my eyes against the feeling and opening them blearily. In what felt like less than a second, the surroundings were a normal hallway. It took me a bit of effort just to ask, “Where are you taking me?”
“My office,” Arnoldo said, just as we reached a door at the end with a plaque on the front. He opened the door and stepped into a fancy-looking office. There were cushy-looking chairs in front of the desk and he maneuvered me into one, commenting, “If I knew you were going to be such a lightweight, I wouldn’t have replaced your drinks as much as I did.”
“You replaced my drinks,” I asked in alarm, almost doubling over as a fresh wave of nausea hit me.
“I did, yes,” the friendly demeanor from the man was still kind of there, but it felt fake now. Now he spoke politely but sounded very business-like. “I didn’t put anything in them if that’s what you’re worried about. Well, not until the last one. You were a lot luckier than I was expecting, so it took longer than I thought.”
“Wh-What did?”
“You becoming indebted to the casino,” Arnoldo nonchalantly walked to a glass cabinet against the office wall, taking out a container of what I assumed was alcohol and poured himself a glass. “We run a clean establishment here, so no one can be indebted by betting more than they have.”
“Wha- Why indebt *me* then,” I exclaimed, not even sure if that was grammatically correct but not caring with my mind swirling from the alcohol and my thoughts. I watched him walk back to the desk and lean backwards against its front edge while sipping his drink. With my hunched over and nauseous position in the chair, he seemed even taller than before.
“Luck of the draw,” he replied. “Sometimes, I feel a bit peckish so I walk around the casino to look for unsavory folks. Sadly, there weren’t any around tonight and you seemed like a rather easy mark.”
I blinked a bit in confusion, struggling to wrap my head around his statement. He felt kind of hungry and decided to purposefully try to have me lose to the casino and go into debt? That literally made no sense to me. Was I in some kind of drunken fever dream? I supposed my confusion was very apparent on my face because he sighed as though this was incredibly inconvenient to him.
“You’ll see when it kicks in fully,” Arnoldo said, taking another swig from his glass. 
Eyes widening with the fear of being roofied, I opened my mouth to try and demand what he meant, but yelped when another wave of nausea interrupted me. Not just nausea, but dizziness and sudden soreness over my entire body. I must have blacked out or passed out because the next thing I registered was opening my eyes against light that felt too bright and pushed myself up from a laying down position. Blinking away colored spots in my vision, I thought that I had to be dreaming.
There was no fucking way that I was actually suddenly tiny on the chair I’d been sitting on.
“There we go,” Arnoldo’s voice caught my attention, making me yelp in panicked surprise when I looked towards it and saw him. He was still leaned against the desk, but now he was absolutely *towering*. He straightened, placed his glass down on the desk and reached towards me on the chair seat, easily scooping me up in his hand despite me quickly trying to scramble away.
“A-Ah, what the fuck, p-put me down,” I shouted, struggling in panic against his hold as I was lifted. I could feel his fingers shift to get a better grip on me, his other hand cupping beneath me, probably in case I managed to wriggle from his grasp.
“Hey, hey, keep squirming like this and I might end up dropping you,” he said. Not threateningly, just as a fact.
That didn’t dissuade me from it whatsoever, not until I realized how high I was in comparison as I saw the floor far down below. My body was torn between continuing to struggle and holding onto one of the fingers to try and increase my chances of not falling to the ground. It eventually decided that falling would be worse for now, instinctively clutching onto one of the fingers around my waist and legs, while I repeated to myself, “This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.”
“Sadly, for you, it is,” Arnoldo walked around the desk and settled in the chair behind it while holding me in front of his face. Eyes that seemed friendly before now had a glint that sent a shiver down my spine. “And you’re about to repay the little favor of looking past your debt. At least a portion of it. Ten thousand is an awful lot, you know.”
“I- Wha- What favor requires me to be-be… f-fucking tiny,” I exclaimed, struggling against the surrealism of the situation and my residual drunkenness. If this was a nightmare, it felt very real and terrifying.
“Like I mentioned before, I tend to do this when feeling peckish. It’s a particular kind of hunger,” he replied, reaching across the desk to the glass of alcohol he’d set down before, taking a brief sip before placing it down. “Let’s say… hmmm, I believe a thousand dollars per session seems fair, no? No more than a day for each. Of course, I’ll need to take into account your availability, unfortunately. I can’t exactly have you missing for more than a week straight. Cou-.”
“W-Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupted him, mind swirling as I tried to comprehend what he was saying. “What are you talking about?! What the fuck do you mean by ‘session’, and I’d rather not go fucking missing at *all*!”
“Dear, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I don’t think spelling it out for you is going to help,” Arnoldo furrowed his brow a bit, looking slightly concerned. Mostly, though, he looked a bit impatient and irritated at being interrupted. Not to mention that he still had a look in his eye that seemed to intensify. “Hmm, you may be too incapacited for any logistics talk… Well, we can discuss arrangements in the morning when you’re sobered up. For now, let’s get your first night out of the way.”
“I- wh-what are you talking about, what do you mean, woAH, WOAH, WOAH,” I cried out in panic as I was shifted closer to his face and a little above. The hold on me shifted so that the backs of my hoodie and shirt were pinched between the first two fingers and thumb of his hand, and his mouth opened to reveal the inside. I saw strings of saliva break, teeth the size of my head, and the tongue that extended slightly to cover the lower incisors. Surely, just surely, none of this was real, right? There was no way that I was this small and there was no way that I was about to be eaten, right?
Regardless of what I thought, I was jolted from my shock as I realized that I was being lowered towards his jaws, protesting and trying to tuck my legs beneath me. I could feel his breath against my ankles, could smell the alcohol and coffee on his breath from drinking earlier, and felt the humidity already start to dampen my shins.
The tongue shifted as I was lowered, extended further and curled beneath my feet to forcibly straighten my legs, something I tried to kick and squirm against. It amounted to nothing, grimacing as my legs were lowered into his mouth and immediately felt saliva soak into my pants on contact with his tongue. It bucked beneath me, licking at my legs for a second before more of me was lowered inside. I tried to brace my feet against the roof of his mouth but found myself unceremoniously forced the rest of the way into jaws, the fingers retreating and teeth clicking shut before I could try to clamber out.
“A-Ah, let me out,” I shouted in panic, knowing my cries would fall on deaf ears given that he didn’t react to any of my other protests. The space barely felt big enough to fit me, able to feel the tongue shifting beneath my back, ridges of his palette against my hands as I tried to press away, and the feeling of his throat against my ankles.
The tongue beneath me jolted and bucked, making me yelp in fear as it started lapping at me, soaking me in drool that clung to my clothes and hair. I squirmed against the movements of the tongue, my arms and legs shaking from fear and exertion as I struggled. Everything rumbled around me for a second and I realized that he was making a pleased hum that rattled me to my bones as though I was a mouthful of delicious food. Which, given the fact that he was fucking EATING ME, I probably was to him. The thought wasn’t pleasant.
After several seconds of intense tasting that left me gasping for breath, I blinked in confusion at some nudging from the tongue. Confusion that turned into more fear and terror as I realized that he was situating me closer to his throat to be swallowed, barely able to register what was happening before my ankles were tugged harshly and a loud swallow overwhelmed my senses.
I was dragged down into his esophagus, pushed and pulled by his throat muscles that constricted around me, making it hard to take in a breath. Blood rushed in my ears, the sound overshadowed by Arnoldo’s breathing and heartbeat as I was forced past. Seconds that felt like forever went by until I slipped into the more open space of his stomach, the air permeated with the scent of alcohol and coffee despite there barely being any at this point.
I tried scrambling to my feet to press as far away from everything, but the constantly moving walls and malleable lining made it difficult, falling back into the nearest wall and flinching.
“Mmm, you’re safe, by the way,” Arnoldo hummed a bit more above me, and I was able to feel him shift. There was a slight increase of pressure on one side of the stomach, making me flinch away. “I doubt you believe me, but I’m not going to say ‘no’ if you want to continue struggling.”
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN I’M SAFE,” I shouted, instincts not helping me stop freaking the fuck out. Being eaten wasn’t supposed to be *safe*! I wanted to scoot away from everything, but there was no way to get away from the stomach I was inside of. The moving walls didn’t help with my swirling head.
“I mean that you’re safe. Nothing’s going to happen with you in there,” he replied, shifting again. I was confused for a second when I heard a very faint sound before realizing it was papers rustling. “You’ll be there until morning, where you’ll be let out so we can discuss your other ‘sessions’.”
I struggled to think, trying to recall what he’d said earlier about the sessions past the fear of the situation, eyes widening and exclaiming, “W-Wait, I’ll have to do this n-nine more times?! Y-You can’t be serious!”
“I am. I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice. You’re still technically indebted. I gave a deal where you wouldn’t worry about payment by accepting a last drink, leading to this arrangement. If you’d prefer, you *could* try to scrape up enough money to pay the ten thousand dollars.”
I quieted, not certain how serious he was. My mind was also still doing spins, part of me wondering in panic if he was lying entirely about it being safe or if he’d let me die if I refused this ‘deal’. A large part was still in denial about any of this being real. Was I not able to focus due to being drunk or was I exhausted?... What time was it?...
Arnoldo decided to take my prolonged silence as either acceptance or thought, which was kind of correct. He hummed a bit and said, “How about we talk about it in the morning, hmm? Give you the time to sleep on it and process.”
“I-I guess,” I replied. Grumbling tiredly, I rubbed my hands against my face to try and clear my head, my eyes feeling far more droopy than before. “God, I hope this is just a nightmare and I’m going to wake up…”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
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zellyrolls · 2 years
Text
Hello, binxhera nation.
weirdly fixated on this silly binxhera post by @zesstra-dnd so i speedran a little small baby writing moment
===
“Hey, Binx?” Andhera says softly, just barely heard above the booming fireworks and ahh’s of the archfey.
“Yeah?”
“Can you help me? I’m lost.”
They stand perfectly still as they wait for their friend’s reaction, inclining their head towards hers but not daring to meet her eyes.
Binx only hums at him, “Uhm, we’re outside the castle, I guess. Do you want to go back?”
At this, Andhera realizes what he thought was a clever confession has been misinterpreted.
“What? Oh uhm, no that’s not what I meant. I’ve… damn, these pickup lines never really work do they? I…” he trails off.
He notices how Binx’s eyes minutely widen at his words, and he unlinks their arms and takes her hands in his. They run their thumbs over the back of her knuckles, relearning what it’s like to hold her hand. Andhera stares down between them, examining every little groove and line on her fingers and palms as he had been unable to in the hedge maze, where it was dark and rushed. This is the excuse they make to themself, as they avoid her eyes.
“Binx,” he begins, “You are a keeper of lost things. I am a prince of darkness. And, please know these aren’t meant to be any sort of comment on our statuses, not at all, but rather what we represent, so to speak.”
He rushes through the last part hoping to quickly make that clarification, and in his peripheral vision, Binx makes a slight nod with the smallest of smiles as he continues, “So, as a prince of darkness, I often find myself in corners, in nooks and crannies and all manner of spaces where darkness lies. Where other people won’t find me. That’s what I’ve done, where I’ve been my whole life. You could call me… A lost thing. And you, Binx, you seek these out, don’t you?You’ve joined me in these places, and actually, as far as I can tell, enjoy them. No one ever wants to join me in my hidey-holes among the shadows, much less tell me they find solace or comfort in them. What I’m trying to say here is, no one has ever met me where I am, like you have. You’ve found me. And I was hoping that, as the keeper of lost things, you would… keep me. If you’ll have me of course.”
Andhera keeps his head bowed in deference, awaiting their response. Binx has not moved since he began speaking, and he fears what this might mean. He keeps his face tucked into his chest until Binx gently reaches towards him with a shaky hand and nudges his chin up so that he’s meeting her eyes.
As he sees them again, he notices a redness in their cheeks. There’s a rosiness to her face that stretches out to the tips of her ears where they poke out of the hood, just barely. The fireworks, still flashing around them, are reflected in their eyes which look at him wide in what he could only describe as wonder.
“Do you… mean all of that?”
“More than anything, Binx.”
They only blink at him for a few seconds and keep looking back and forth between their hands and his face. Eventually, she takes a deep breath before the words start tumbling out.
“Oh. Oh! Okay, wow, uhm!” she stutters with a wide grin, shaking her head as if trying to wake up from a dream, “It… You… It’s just been so difficult without the Court of Craft, you know? It’s like, I told you, they’re not just my court, they’re my home, and I lost that. I thought I’d never be home again. But meeting you, and being around you, getting to get in touch with my talents, to make an actual craft again because of you… It’s—it’s almost like I’m home again, but it’s different, because you’re different, you’re not like the Court of Craft you’re you, and it’s, well,” And here, Binx again reaches up, this time cradling their face with both hands.
“Andhera, if you want me to keep you, I will. I’ll treasure you.”
Hearing this, he feels every bit of unknowingly held tension dissolve as he leans down and wraps his arms around their lower back. His hands brush against her skin, the back of the dress open to accommodate for the wings, and he relishes in the warmth of the unhindered touch. Binx lets out a little noise of surprise before looping their arms around his neck, conscious of the gem as it forms another cloud above them.
This time, the clouds are sparse, wispy and white little things, and the weak drizzle that graces the pair is warm.
Against Binx’s shoulder where Andhera has rested his head, he mumbles, “You know, back in the Unseelie Court, this whole.. thing. Touch. Touch is how we show our affection.”
Binx only replies with a shuffle forward, bringing them ever closer, and a tight squeeze.
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arc852 · 3 years
Note
For the little companion au (don’t know if that’s the name) would Wilbur have to wear a collar?
imagine the angst. (hey, sometimes even I like a little angst myself)
I speedran this because yes. Enjoy the angst.
Collared
Summary: Tommy finds the collar that Phil bought for Wilbur.
Warnings: Dehumanization, and treating a person like a pet.
Word count: 802
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 Wilbur would be lying if he said things hadn’t been...good. Even if it had only been three days.
 Did Tommy still see him as a pet? Well, yeah, he did. That part sucked a lot but it didn’t surprise Wilbur much. But Tommy did treat him okay. A lot of the time, he could even pretend that Tommy didn’t see him like that and that Wilbur was simply Tommy’s friend. It was only sometimes that Wilbur truly did feel like a pet in Tommy’s presence.
 This was, unfortunately, one of those times.
 “I’m not wearing that.” Wilbur had been getting better at speaking his mind lately. Not that he had much of a problem with doing it before but now he didn’t have to face repercussions for it. Tommy hadn’t been lying when he said he would never punish him.
 Even so, the yellow collar Tommy was holding sure felt like he was being punished for something.
 Tommy frowned, fidgeting with the small ring sized collar in between two fingers. Wilbur had been hoping the collar had been missed, maybe even lost somewhere but, of course, he couldn’t be that lucky. Tommy had found it on his way to throw away the bag it and his bed had come in. And now the child was insistent about him putting it on.
 “Wilbur, it’s required.” Tommy argued, pausing in his fidgets. “Besides, it’s a good thing. This way, if you get lost or kidnapped or some s***, then I can find you.” Wilbur winced at that. The collar itself was also a tracker, he had learned that during his time in the pet store. It connected to the human’s phone and allowed them to see their every movement.
 Wilbur wasn’t planning on running away, he had already made that decision when first speaking with Tommy, but the thought of having even less privacy was awful. Not to mention, the symbolism of having a collar on him in the first place. There would be no pretending he wasn’t what Tommy, and the rest of the human race, saw him as. A pet.
 “No.” Wilbur stated firmly. Deep down, he hoped Tommy would listen. So far, the human had been pretty good at listening to what Wilbur had to say but he knew, this time, the human had already made up his mind. After all, like he said, the collar was required.
 “Sorry Wil,” Tommy said. He didn’t sound very sorry, more confused than anything, really. Like he couldn’t fathom why Wilbur would be upset over something like this. “Now turn around so I can get this on you.”
 Wilbur wanted to fight, wanted to yell at Tommy, wanted to grab the stupid collar from Tommy’s fingers and burn it.
 But he didn’t.
 He would lose, in the end. Tommy would just turn him around himself if Wilbur refused. It was easier to just go along with it. Despite how doing so made Wilbur want to vomit.
 With a heavy sigh, Wilbur turned around, shoulders down in order to expose his neck. Tommy let out a happy noise and Wilbur could practically see the smile on his face. It made Wilbur’s heart become a bit lighter and Wilbur once again had to ask himself why Tommy of all humans made him soft.
 Oh right, because, like Tommy, he knew what true loneliness felt like.
 Tommy’s fingers came around to his front, collar open. Wilbur shut his eyes tight and felt the leather strap wrap around his neck. The only thing Wilbur could be thankful for, in this instance, was that Tommy was gentle with it and it hung rather loose around his neck. Not enough for him to be able to slip it off but enough that it didn’t feel like it was suffocating him.
 When the deed was done, Wilbur felt the presence of Tommy’s hands leave and he opened his eyes, hands going to his neck, feeling the collar.
 When he turned back to Tommy, he tried his hardest not to let his shakiness show. Tommy was grinning still, seemingly proud of himself.
 “There we go! See, wasn’t so bad was it? Now let me just hook it up to my phone…” He trailed off as he took out said phone, going through the instructions on how to set the two devices up.
 Wilbur’s hands dropped from the collar, already dead set on ignoring it. It was just a piece of leather, it shouldn’t have this much of an affect on him. Everything was fine, things were fine here with Tommy, really they were.
 Still, the now visual reminder of what he was seen as was hard to ignore. And if he had to quickly wipe his eyes before Tommy turned back to him, well, that was nobody else's business but his.
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