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#mutiny below
semipreciousartist · 8 months
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Mutiny Below - an Our Flag Means Death lyric comic I initially wanted to make an animatic but really like how this turned out as a short comic!
"Mutiny Below" by Ludo. Fellow Ludo fans hit me up I have many thoughts about other songs.
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isaut · 4 months
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there should be more of beidou having to be absolutely feral on the ocean
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is-sni-ovg · 2 years
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♪♪♪
victim of love - eagles
victim of love, i see a broken heart you got your stories to tell victim of love, it's such an easy part and you know how to play it so well
5 free minutes - spirit of the west
given time i waste it all smash my clock against your wall talking's not what makes me tick the second hand's the first to stick
mutiny below - ludo
you made me feel alive again, i wish we'd never met!
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my-thyla-my-captain · 7 months
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the way that izzy is inexplicably entwined with the blackbonnet sex scene. the way that izzy is singing a love song for a man who will never love him the same way as he does the man he lays with now. he's singing his vulnerability to a man who's not only not listening, who's not present, but whose very happiness is contingent upon all of the sacrifices he's made (deterring Edward from shooting himself on the deck by focusing his mania onto himself thus losing his leg right after confessing his love to him, refusing to shoot him below deck, saving the crew when he nearly ended them all in the storm, keeping his body on board despite their mutiny) but will never likely truly thank or apologize to him for. it's all the same - without izzy, the rose colored bliss of their time together wouldn't be, accompaniment or otherwise.
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wileys-russo · 3 months
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Leah Williamson “I leave you alone for 5 minutes” park
left unsupervised II l.williamson
"don't run mia, walk!" you yelled in warning after your niece who sprinted off the moment leah helped her out of the car and her feet hit the ground. "did you ever walk at that age? you hardly sit still now love." your girlfriend teased, holding the door open for you.
"she was born with two left feet, i have fantastic coordination." you scoffed defensively, leah clearing her throat as you reached in and grabbed mia's backpack.
"chivalry isn't free babe, kiss please." the blonde puckered her lips as your own curled into a smile. "clingy." you teased, but rewarding her none the less with a gentle kiss as she beamed, practically skipping off after your niece.
"great, now i have to babysit two kids!" you sighed watching the defender scramble off into the playground after her four year old accomplice who'd been stuck to leah's side from the very first moment you'd introduced her to your entire family.
it was quite endearing really despite how much their alliance drove you up the wall at times, the pair having far too much fun ganging up on you. then when mia's mum, your eldest sister, was around it was an all out three on one mutiny that had you pulling your hair out at the best of times.
"leah! get her down!" you cupped your hands over your mouth, pointing toward mia who was squatted and readying herself to leap off the top of the jungle gym onto the sand below which was an easy six metre drop.
"nah she's got it!" your girlfriend dismissed with a flick of her hand, moving to stand beneath her with her arms open clearly ready to catch her as mia's face lit up.
"ready? one, two, three!" you winced and looked away as the girl leapt off and landed safely in leahs awaiting arms as you exhaled and shook your head, your phone starting to ring in your pocket.
leah now pushing mia on the swings as she let out an adorable string of giggles you stepped away to answer it, your sister asking if you were able to have mia for an extra few hours as she was caught up at work which you promised was more than fine.
doing shift work as a nurse and a single mum meant your niece had spent a good portion of each week in either your or your own mums care since she was a baby, but you wouldn't want it any other way.
you were pulled from your thoughts as there was a tug on your shirt, glancing down you met the bright green eyes of the four year old in question as you bid your sister goodbye and hung up.
"you alright shorty? where's leah?" you bent down to her level, smiling at the way she rolled her eyes. "not short!" she warned with a huff, poking harshly at your shoulder. "shorter than me." you teased, brushing away some sand from her knees.
"aunty lee needs help!" mia announced as now you frowned. "help playing a game? i told you mi sometimes aunty lee only looks cranky because she likes winning but really-" you started to explain your girlfriends horrid sore loser tenancies but mia shook her head, tugging on your shirt again.
"come on! you're so slow and she's stuck." mia interlaced her fingers with yours with a small groan, pulling you away with a slight stumble as you hurried to keep pace with her tiny legs which pumped furiously.
"oh my god." you gasped as you arrived where in fact your girlfriend did need help. "i got help aunty lee!" mia announced proudly, patting your girlfriends cheek fondly. "yeah you did, thanks buddy." leah mumbled, cheeks flushed red clearly embarrassed as you crossed your arms and jutted out your hip, cocking an eyebrow.
"i leave you alone for five minutes." you sighed with a shake of your head, leahs own dropping in shame. "it was an accident!" leah whined, kicking at the sand with a huff and a scowl, refusing to meet your eyes.
"what happened babe?" you grinned, leahs head somehow wedged between the bars of a makeshift shop counter. "she dared me, its her fault!" leah pointed toward your niece whose posture now mirrored your own, hip jutted out and arms crossed.
"no! aunty lee dared me to and i said no then she called me a little chicken." mia huffed as leahs cheeks blushed even brighter red as your niece stuck her tongue out at her and ran off to keep playing.
"so the four year old is the chicken for saying no to doing something very dumb that you, the twenty six year old adult then did to prove you weren't a chicken, and now you're stuck?" you recounted making sure you had the facts right, still keeping one eye on mia who was busy trying to build a snowman with the sand without much luck.
"no." leah mumbled again kicking at the ground and refusing to meet your eyes. "no?" you questioned, lips curling into a grin. "maybe." your girlfriend admitted quietly, gaze flickering up guiltily to meet your own.
"maybe?" you sung out teasingly as leah groaned. "for fuck sakes would you just help me!" leah whined, struggling to free herself with a grunt. "how the hell did you even fit your head in?" you shook your own with disbelief, moving around behind her and trying to help her pull herself free.
after five minutes of fruitless struggle you had to make the call. "babe no, please no!" leahs eyes widened as you pulled out your phone with an apologetic smile. "i have to love, there's no way we're getting you out of here without help." you dialed the right number as leah moaned, head dropping dejectedly as her body language slumped.
"stop filming me!" your girlfriend growled as you stood in front of her with a grin, mia latched onto your leg as you filmed the fireman cutting off the bars, a small crowd of onlookers gathered around from the neighboring houses at the sound of the sirens.
"lookin good williamson...and she's free!" you cheered happily, leahs face glowing bright red as others joined in the clapping, the firemen doing their best to disperse everyone as the captain gave leah a stern talking to about her actions.
"no i promise i learnt my lesson sir, i am so so sorry for wasting your time." your girlfriend apologised profusely as the older man nodded, calling his team away as they all clambered back into the truck and leah pulled her hood up over her head.
"we're leaving, right now." leah warned, grabbing your hand and dragging you off to the car as you held onto mia by the backpack on her shoulders.
"why the rush baby? i wanna see if you can fit your head through the monkey bars next." you teased causing your niece to giggle and your girlfriend to give you a venomous glare, snatching the keys from her pocket.
mia buckled in securely and leah for once on the receiving end of the four year olds teasing the blonde huffed and jammed the key in, starting up the car. "mia if i hear one more word from you the next time you sleepover you're sleeping under the stairs like harry potter!" leah whipped around and warned as the girls face paled and she was instantly silenced.
"you're gonna be a top mum one day babe." you smiled patting her knee as she narrowed her eyes at you and put the car into drive as you connected your phone to her speaker system.
shuffling the kids carpool playlist you know your niece liked leah groaned quietly as mia began to belt out the lyrics to five little monkeys.
"what are you smiling at?" leah asked suspiciously a few minutes later, glancing to you as she stopped at a red light finding your attention buried in your phone with a smirk. "the video of you getting cut out." you grinned as leahs face shifted into a glare.
"delete it!" her hand reached over to try and grab your phone as you pushed her away, warning her sternly there was a child in the back and she needed to keep two hands on the wheel.
"you better not have shown that to anyone." "i didn't." "good! keep it that way." "i haven't shown anyone but i did send it to a few people." "you what!" "yeah! just your mum, my mum, your cousins, my sisters, lia, beth, laura, viv, steph, jen, alex-"
"oh you are so sleeping on the lounge tonight."
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rhysdarbinizedarby · 7 months
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‘Our Flag Means Death’: How Blackbeard & Stede’s Fantastical Underwater Reunion Came Together
[Warning: The below contains MAJOR spoilers for Our Flag Means Death, Season 2, Episodes 1-3.]
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It doesn’t take more than a single second to recognize Kate Bush‘s haunting and heartbreaking tune “This Woman’s Work,” as Blackbeard, a.k.a. Ed (Taika Waititi), is pushed from a clifftop to plunge into the ocean’s depths below in Our Flag Means Death‘s Season 2 installment, “The Innkeeper.” But how did the pirate heartbroken over Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) wind up in this position? It’s a delicate and winding path that starts with the infamous pirate’s unraveling over the course of the latest season’s first two episodes.
Believing Stede intentionally abandoned him after planning to run away together at the end of Season 1, Blackbeard embraces the version of himself so many have conjured up in their minds as he leads the Revenge’s “new” crew to pillage and plunder on the high seas. His unhinged behavior eventually forces Jim (Vico Ortiz), Izzy (Con O’Neill), Frenchie (Joel Fry), Archie (Madeleine Sami), and Fang (David Fane) to violently take control of the ship and neutralize Blackbeard — or so they think — after he steers them directly into a storm.
When Zheng Yi Sao’s (Ruibo Qian) Red Flag happens across an eerie-looking Revenge on the ocean, Stede dives overboard in his excitement over the possibility of seeing Ed, only to be told various excuses for his absence by the crew aboard. When Stede directly addresses Izzy regarding Blackbeard’s lack of presence, the now peg-legged pirate claims the Revenge crew dropped Ed on a beach.
This seems to ring true as we see Blackbeard wash ashore and cared for by his own former captain Hornigold (Mark Mitchinson). While together, Blackbeard and Hornigold discuss the mutiny that took place and Blackbeard’s hopes for the future. When a role-playing scenario testing Blackbeard’s ability to be an Innkeeper, a profession he’s interested in, goes awry, he attacks Hornigold, killing the tarp-clad pirate. But when Hornigold rises again, Blackbeard realizes something is off.
Aboard the Revenge, Ed’s body is uncovered below deck. Believing him dead, Zheng Yi Sao is forced to consider killing the Revenge crew for mutiny after initially welcoming them aboard the Red Flag. And Stede has to cope with the idea that his love may be gone forever.
After hatching an escape plan for the Revenge team, Stede and pals return to their former ship, leaving Zheng stranded without a wheel. Going to sit with Ed’s body, Stede wonders why he had to go and get himself killed. Meanwhile, Blackbeard begins to realize he’s stuck somewhere between life and death, a place this Hornigold manifestation calls a “gravy basket.”
As the two men banter about the pros and cons of choosing life over death, Hornigold ties a boulder around Ed’s waist and throws it from the cliff they’re standing on, pushing Blackbeard into the ocean. Just as it seems as though he’ll succumb to the waves, Blackbeard proves Bush’s song right: Perhaps there’s a little life in him yet. When Stede lifts the cloth from his face on the Revenge, underwater Ed reacts to the change. Peering into the water, he sees a light from which a fantastical mermaid version of Stede emerges.
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In the real world, Stede reacts to Blackbeard’s twitching hand, taking it in his and pleading for him to live as a montage of their moments together rolls alongside Bush’s still-playing song. The final seconds of the episode see Ed’s eyes open, giving Stede hope.
So, how did this moving turn of events come to pass? A team full of creatives was responsible for bringing the captivating and satisfying reunion.
Stede’s Mermaid Tail
“It’s a huge process,” putting together Stede’s practical mermaid look, according to costume designer Gypsy Taylor. She says “it started with me begging everybody” to avoid visual FX and make a tail for the sequence. The orange and glittering look could have followed several different styles, but ultimately, Taylor notes, “I thought if Stede is going to turn into a mermaid, and it’s in Blackbeard’s dream, it’s sort of his vision of a mermaid.”
Considering this, in Taylor’s mind, Blackbeard wouldn’t envision some epic fantastical creature; instead, Stede would “just be like a goldfish. He’d just be like a sweet harmless goldfish.” In putting sketches together of the ensemble, Taylor acknowledges the symbolism of the goldfish motif: “There’s a huge Chinese element that we have coming through, and goldfish in Chinese culture is considered lucky.” As this vision of Stede was responsible for helping bring Ed back to life, that luck was certainly there.
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“I thought that was a pretty beautiful thing, that they meet each other under the ocean and then they find each other,” Taylor gushes. “And so I went a little deep on that, but really he’s just a goldfish.” In order to achieve the goldfish mermaid look, Taylor teamed up with props master Hayley Egan, who’s based out of Australia. “She happens to excel at making mermaid tails,” Taylor shares.
After securing Egan’s involvement, Taylor says, “We fit Rhys in a jumbo stretch long skirt and made sure it was really tight so he could still sort of do this dolphin [swimming] action. And then we bought these mono fins, which you can purchase online and put your feet in.” Safety was key, though. “He had to swim really deep and for a really far distance, and he’d never done anything like that before,” Taylor explains. “So it had to be really safe and doable.”
Once that was figured out, Taylor says Egan “cast something like 3,000 hand-sculpted silicon scales. There’s something like five kilograms of glitter in the whole thing. And then we hand-dyed pleated chiffon for all the fins, so that when he was swimming through the water, it would have this magic feel.”
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While the scene may play as emotional and romantic, the story behind getting Stede’s mermaid look from Australia to New Zealand was actually quite comical. “[Egan] sliced two suitcases in half, filled [them with the mermaid tail], and then when it went through customs, the customs guy said to her, ‘Are you bringing fish into this country?’ And she’s like, ‘Yes, yes I am.'”
In total, there were four tails, including “a practice tail, a stunt tail, because Rhys had to do quite a few lessons before we got the real one on. And the real one was super precious, and chlorine’s very strong, it eats fabrics away, so we wanted to save the hero one for the hero shot,” Taylor reveals. When it came time to film, “We put him in [the tail], and it was just amazing.” In order to get Darby into the pool, Taylor says a ramp had to be built and the actor was placed in a wheelchair while costumed “and pushed in.” As unglamorous as it sounds, she adds, “it was like Rhys’s dream come true.”
How Kate Bush Entered the Music Mix
It’s safe to say Kate Bush has been having a moment on TV since last year’s “Running Up That Hill” needle drop on Stranger Things, but music supervisor Maggie Phillips says, “This Woman’s Work” was selected before Netflix‘s hit made headlines with their use of the aforementioned song. “When we were placing [the song in the season lineup],” Phillips says, “it was maybe weeks after Stranger Things, and I was worried that we would look like copycats.”
Phillips maintains that the song was in the mix before, but it ultimately “doesn’t matter because really what matters is that Kate Bush is a queen and more and more people need to know her music.”
She says, “From what I heard from David [Jenkins], it was a song that Taika was attached to.” At first, Phillips was reluctant to go with the song due to its prior uses, but “David told me not to worry about [that], that people have short-term memory when it comes to music.”
While she debated with the team over cutting it, “[David] has the visuals in his mind. I don’t. I’m just hearing it with a script and I had no clue how it was going to work until I saw the first cut, and it was beautiful and they picked a part of the song that worked really well with the visuals, so they sort of made it their own,” Phillips explains. “They added a different context to the song that I wouldn’t have been able to imagine myself. So they proved me wrong for sure.”
It’s hard to imagine the scene without Bush’s song. “It changes the way you listen to the song,” Phillips notes. “I got chills watching it and I know that song so well and haven’t gotten chills like that in a long time.” With all of the buildup, “You’re waiting for them to have their romantic moment. You’re waiting for three episodes for that to happen. And so it’s so cathartic when that song comes on, and you see them come together in this fantasy world under the sea. It’s just perfect.” This led her to email Jenkins. “I was like, ‘You were right. I was wrong. But this was beautiful, and thank you so much.'”
Blackbeard’s Wet Wig Woes
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Anyone watching the scene unfold would have to notice Blackbeard’s silver tresses weaving through the water, a feat much more difficult behind the scenes than the seemingly simple sequence onscreen. “We filmed that quite late in the season, and so we were really planning and thinking about that all the way through [filming]. I was a bit nervous,” hair and makeup designer Nancy Hennah admits. “I knew that he was going to have to be under the water with his wig on for quite a long time.”
Even with high-quality wig glue, Hennah says, “You can do everything you can to make that wig stay on, but there’s a limited amount of time that the glue will last. So we had to use different products than we would normally use to get the wig down.” Because the product Hennah normally uses to keep hair back in a wig is water soluble, “it melts, and the hair starts coming out from the lace, and it can ruin the whole look of the wig.” She had to come up with a creative fix.
“I glued his own hair back, and then we glued the lace on top of that, and wildly, it lasted right until the very last shot when they were dragging him through the water by the ankles,” Hennah reveals. “The wig just came off completely after they’d finished shooting. And so he came up out of the water, and the wig was off to the side, [and he goes], ‘I think my wig came off.'” She calls the success of the wig “incredible” and “just a fluke really.”
When it came to capturing Darby’s underwater look, it was all about blending the mermaid tail with his skin. “With Stede, Gypsy had a beautiful mermaid tail made, and we did a whole lot of practice with different types of silicon and things that we had to blend that piece between his skin and the tail. We made these pieces of silicon with glitter and things in them that we individually stuck over the top of the mermaid tail,” Hennah details.
Again, there were concerns about getting “things to stick underwater,” but watching the scene come together from behind the camera eased those. “[When] we were standing there on the set that day and watching the monitor, it just was so beautiful that we were all blown away by it, and that tank that they were filming in was a couple of stories deep, and to be out there in that water, it was challenging, and they both did so well. It just went off without a hitch. It was one of those great days where it just worked for everybody.”
Don’t miss what else is in store for the season. Stay tuned for additional interviews and content as the second season of Our Flag Means Death unfolds.
Our Flag Means Death, New Episodes, Thursdays, Max
Source: TV Insider
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celluloidbroomcloset · 4 months
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Yes, it is wild that Stede Bonnet (pictured below) railed Edward “Blackbeard” Teach so good that Ed immediately dropped his entire pirate persona overboard, but also...it’s not. Because Stede is unhinged. Stede smashes the back of a navy captain’s head with a whale figurine. Stede thwarts a mutiny by arts and crafts. Stede meets a bunch of pirates, insults them, and survives. Stede brought a whole library to sea. Stede marched around the Republic of Pirates in an incandescent white suit. Stede is both so pathetic that he gets psychotherapy from his own captors and so badass that he beats Izzy Hands by getting impaled to a mast.
Stede is a kind, gentle, empathetic, unhinged maniac and of course Ed loves him.
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morallyinept · 3 months
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Pop Goes The Javi - A Javier Peña One Shot for PMAMC 2024
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Written for @wannab-urs Peg That Middle Aged Man Campaign 2024 - proud to be part of this collection of amazing writers. Check them out for all the Pedro Boys being pegged! 🍑 Also, check out last year's PMAMC 2023 too!
Summary: It’s Javi's birthday and you have the perfect gift for him.
Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. Reader speaks and understands Spanish.)
Word Count: 4.5k-ish
Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Explicit - Pegging/rimming/anal fingering/anal penetration, M receiving/fingering F receiving/all the glorious butt stuff with Javi's pert lil' butt 🍑 Javi being a drooling mess.
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
I write for me and I share with you. If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: There's a fair amount of Javi Spanish in this, so I've provided translations at the end of the story. Special thanks to my sweet hermosa @rhoorl for helping me out with this. 🖤
Thanks again for letting me be apart of this @wannab-urs 🥰 Please be sure to check out, and re-blog, all the other amazing stories by the other fantastic writers who have also taken part this year! 🍑
PMAMC Banner/poster created by @wannab-urs 🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST | JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST
Enjoy! 🖤
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As the sun dips below the Bogotá skyline, casting a warm, orange glow across the city, the heat coats your skin like a greased balm. 
You find yourself nestled into a cosy booth with Javi in a restaurant; the taste of sweet agave and ash lingers on his lips, and his nimble, thick fingers cause a mutiny of tingles to travel across your epidermis as he brushes the tips of them over your thigh. 
The flap of his open collar, under his worn in leather jacket, reveals golden bone protrusions that you long to taste again, and it takes you a few moments to realise that you haven't heard a single word he’s said most of the evening as you’ve been fixated on it, until his fingers sweep up to your inner thigh under the table.  
“This fucking dress leaves little to the imagination.” He murmurs, planting a kiss on your temple.
“And I assume yours is running amok right now?” You say, leaning further into him.
“Si, cariño.”
“Good. Mission accomplished.” You smile into his mouth. 
He licks his tongue into yours as you tug at the soft, creaky lapel on his jacket. 
“I think we should go, vamos a casa,” Javi husks into your face with a prudent smirk; a plush bottom lip pouting suggestively under that moustache. 
“No, you’ve not had any dessert yet,” you smile, stopping his hand from going any further.
“I plan on having it back at yours,” he says, eyes dropping to your cleavage and then back up to your face. 
“I think you’ll like this one better,” you grin as a dessert with a single candle arrives at your table.
The restaurant staff, having been forewarned it’s Javi's birthday, join in singing a lively rendition of Feliz Cumpleaños, much to his chagrin.
You can’t help but giggle at his discomfort, eyeing you with a puckered frown and pink pout, but equally trying not to laugh at your audacity when you clap and sing along enthusiastically with them. 
“For the record, I hate birthdays.” Javi mutters, as you pick up the spoon and feed the dulce de leche flan to him. His teeth clash against the metal as he eats it begrudgingly whilst you grin and sparkle at him. 
“I think you’ll enjoy this one. You won’t forget it in a hurry.” You muse. 
“Mhm.” He retorts with knitted eyebrows. 
“I still haven’t given you your present yet.” 
“You got me a present? ¿Qué voy a hacer contigo?” Javi murmurs under his breath. Then he softens. “If it’s not you in my lap in this dress, then I don’t want it.” 
You lean forward, fingers raking through the sweaty curled hairs at the nape of his neck.
“I’m not wearing any underwear…” You tease.
The growl that escapes his lips is heard by the table opposite as they turn quizzically as he feigns clearing his throat.
“We’re going. Right fucking now.” He says, standing. Your eyes are drawn to the obvious bulge straining in his tight jeans at eye level.
A short cab ride to your apartment is spent glued to his lips as your curl yourself around him as close as you physically can. His hand rests dangerously close to the centre of your thighs; the slip of liquid silk from your dress riding up further as his fingers edge closer to the wet heat there. 
You soon feel his wandering digits probing brazenly at your slit, sliding the length of them up and down through your drenched lips, making you moan into his hungry mouth on the backseat.
The backs of your thighs stick to the leather as Javi collects the slick pooling at your hole and rubs it onto your clit where he circles languidly with a delicious pressure that makes your skin tighten and crack. 
He works two fingers in with slow, intense strokes as he clutches you close to him with his other arm around you, lips buried in the skin at your throat as he sucks it gently into his mouth.
Small, little whines escape you as he builds you up, and it’s not long before you glance at the driver peering at you both through the mirror surreptitiously.
“Ojos en el camino, señor.” Javi instructs with a grizzled bite to his tone as the driver looks away. 
He withdraws his fingers smirking as you giggle. He generously tips the driver outside your apartment before pulling you in through the door, latched onto fuzzy lips that want to devour you whole. 
He has you pinned up against the door with his hand swimming back under your dress, but you clamp down on his wrist stopping him. 
“No. It’s your birthday and I have something I want to give you.” You whisper, stamping a sizzling kiss on his cheek.
“I don’t need anything, but this…” Javi says, stroking lightly against your pussy lips again.
“Please. Just indulge me. No te arrepentirás lo prometo.” You groan, pushing his hand away.  
Sighing into your shoulder, Javi allows you to lead him to the bedroom. Kissing feverishly, you unbuckle his jeans; those tight, dark jeans that keep him all snug and shapely as you work your hands over that tight, little ass of his. 
You pull away from the kiss, admiring your hands squeezing and lavishing his cheeks slipped down in the back of his jeans. You groan as you knead and squeeze the pliant, bouncy meat of it. 
“Is this what you want to do? Feel up my ass?" Javi smirks, the left side of his lip crooking up first. 
You shake your head, grinning at him. “No. I want to fuck it.”
Javi baulks. “What?”
"You heard me." You flutter.
He sinks onto the end of the bed, watching as you scurry over to the closet. 
“I got you this.” You pull a box out and place it on his lap. 
“What is it?” He asks, regarding it as though a bomb might go off in his face at any second.
“It’s your birthday present. Open it.” You say, watching carefully.
He opens it, pulling at the wrapping paper curiously and then sighs when it’s revealed to him.
“Jesus.” He hides the panic in his voice extremely well, but you can see it spreading all over his face.
“Javi, don’t be upset.” You say tentatively.
“I’m not upset, I just…” He looks up at you with those big browns, deep and entrancing, and full of something else; something you’ve never seen before as it picks at you. You worry you've made a mistake.
“We've talked about it. You said you wanted to try it one day."
"I did." He admits in a low tone.
"Do you want to try it tonight?” You probe gently.
“Querida.”
“You know you want to...” You smile enticingly at him.
He glances at you again, that same look and you realise what it is - vulnerability. 
“Javi, do you trust me?”
He frowns instantly. “Of course I do, sabes que lo hago.”
“Good. We’ll go as slow as you want.” You confirm, nodding gently. 
He stares into the box for a few moments and you can see him gulp. He puts the box on the bed, lights up a cigarette and takes a deep drag. 
“Don’t I have to prepare, or something?” Javi asks, his shoulders hunching up through the plume of smoke. “I sound like a fucking idiot. Jesus.”
“I've got lube.” You say, nodding to the box. 
He peers in. “Mierda.”
You come and sit beside him as he blows the smoke out away from your face. He slings his arm over your shoulder and you kiss his hand as your fingers entwine.
“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, Javi. But I think you want to...” You sway. "I'd really like to fuck you on your birthday," you add, whispering.
Javi regards you carefully, those inquisitive eyes latching onto yours and you can see him mulling it over.
He takes another drag on the cigarette, the end burning a bright red in the darkening room.
"You want to fuck me, cariño, hmm?" He says and you can see that lip crooking up again.
"Mmhm." You nod, smirking.
He blows out more smoke. “Alright. Let me shower first, okay? I fucking stink.”
You smile and nod. “Okay.”
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When he comes out, a little while later, the room is cast in a soft light from the bedside lamp.
You have the dildo, lube and strap laid out on the bed. You’re sitting there waiting for him, trying not to imagine him derailing this by his own insecurities, when he emerges with a towel loosely wrapped around his svelte waist and dark hair a damp mess.
He’s never looked so fucking good, golden skin shiny with water droplets that sparkle in the light. You can't help but stare and lick your lips.
“Ven aquí,” you hold out your hand and pull him towards you with an entrancing smile. “If I do something you don’t like, just tell me to st-”
“Just shut up and kiss me,” Javi growls as he takes your face in his big hands and plants his lips on yours.
He nips on your bottom lip as his hand slides up under your dress to find you soaking for him again. A few brushes against your clit has your thighs spasming, but again you stop him, stepping back and lifting the dress over your head. 
You pull the faded towel off of him and turn him so he’s sitting on the bed.
"How do you want me?" Javi asks.
"Just like this," you say.
You kiss all over his tan skin, down his chest and towards the prominent swell of his cock resting against his belly; a small thicket of dark, curled hairs rests at the base, damp from the shower. 
He’s already leaking glossy pearls in anticipation as they string onto his skin. You kiss all around his groin, deliberately avoiding his cock as you lay him back.
Parting him by the knees, you smile and stroke the insides of his thighs.
"I want to kiss you."
He nods, pupils already blown and lips parted as he anticipates your every move.
Balls swollen like ripe plums hang heavy over the untouched skin of his taint where you run your tongue first. 
The soft snuffles from his nose indicate that he likes it, and you lick under his sack, sucking one of them into your mouth gently as he hisses in response. 
Trailing your mouth and planting kisses, you push his legs wider and he moans out as you find his dark, little hole and begin to wiggle the tip of your tongue over it.
Catching him by surprise, apparent from the shock in his voice, Javi's tone shifts to a higher pitch as you lick around the pink pucker of his ass.
“Fuck,” is all he can but utter on a choked whisper as you tongue him there. 
Teasing, licking and smooching around the most intimate part of him, a part that he’s never revealed so brazenly to anyone else before; you can tell by the way he’s all coiled up, fists clenched and back taut and rigid. Trying to relax into it, but feeling out of sorts at the same time as these new sensations flood over him.
He'd said he'd wanted to try it, was curious about the appeal, when you'd both opened up to each other about your fantasies.
You'd asked if he would try with you and he'd said yes, as he kissed you moaning into your mouth, and harder than he'd ever been at the idea.
Equally, you'd thought about nothing else since, planning on making it perfect for him.
Well, there was no perfect time than his birthday and it solved the conundrum of what to get him as a gift.
You flick your tongue over his hole, back and forth, back and forth, as he shudders. You can feel a little contraction as you push in the tip, a slight hesitation, as he grunts out. 
But Javi grabs his cock and begins stroking it while gritting his teeth. His breathy groans turn into heated growls as you continue to lick and explore his ass with your tongue, readying him up for what’s to come. 
You glance up at him, head craned back in the pillow and slack mouth open, and you know you won’t get that image out of your head for a while; it’s burned into it like a firebrand on raw cattle hide.
He looks fucking exquisite, paused in his own pleasure. His eyes catch yours when you stop, taking this moment to indulge.
“You're feeling pretty good about yourself right now, aren't you?” He questions looking down at you looking at him, as you kiss around his little, pink rim again.  
“Maybe.” You smirk. “But you are too, admit it. You like it.” 
"I do." He nods with a content snuffle.
You reach for the lube, squeezing a little out and running the smooth silk of it over his hole. He hisses, lips curling back over his teeth, with the coolness of it and you rub your finger over his hole; around in teasing, slow circles, gently increasing the pressing until the tip of your finger slips in. 
“Mmm,” he grunts. But you can feel him resisting as it pops out again. 
“Relax for me, Javi.” You pat his stomach reassuringly.  
You push again when he breathes out and your finger slips in, past the tip and proximal phalanx. You pull back and watch his face; eyes still closed and biting down on his full bottom lip.
His large hands twist at the sheets, gripping so tight they could tear. You pump gently, pushing further in each time and plant kisses on his thigh that twitches. 
“You’re doing so good,” you encourage, your mouth running up his thigh as you push your finger deeper with each pump, twisting and curling it until his whines become a strained gasp when you find that delicious, untouched spot. 
“Fuh…” Javi husks in a strangled moan.
“That’s the spot huh?” You smile. 
“Oh, fuck yes.” He pants as you stroke against it with a little more pressure. "Shit, that's..." He trails off, distracted by how damn good it feels.
His legs jerk as you rub against his spot and his cock literally pulses in response.
"Do that again."
"Are you begging me for more already, Agent Peña?" You grin as you stroke against him some more.
He looks drunk, eyes glazed over as he nods lazily, trying not to grin himself.
“Shall we try the strap?” You entice gently pulling your finger out.
He sits up on his elbows. “If we’re doing this… I-” The look on his face is a mixture of hesitation and fear despite the wild dilating of his eyes turning them into tar pools. 
“Why don't you ride me?” You encourage with a nod. “You can control the depth.”
“Jesus Christ…” Javi blushes almost immediately, a heated flush creeping to the tips of his ears. 
“If you don’t like it we can stop, okay?” You confirm, reaching for the dildo and strap. “But I think you’re really going to like it,” you smile. 
“It’s small.” Javi says, sitting up fully as you belt it on, and you're not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. 
“Well, your ass is small.” You confirm taking a handful of his pert, little butt. “If you like it we can work up to a bigger one.” 
You squeeze lube all over the dildo and look up at him as you lay back on the bed, head propped up on the pillows. 
"Come here and kiss me, Javi."
He straddles you, leaning down to plant his lips on yours, and you can tell he’s nervous. You angle the silicone cock between you, as it brushes against the crack of his ass.
The veins in his neck swell, his teeth grinding as he feels it nestle between his cheeks, sticky and wet against his hole. 
You hold onto his hips, stroking over the creases in his inner thighs. He looks down at you, eyes deep and trusting, lips red and swollen like the end of his dick.
Big browns melting into you like chocolate. 
“Estas listo?” You ask.
“No,” he sighs with a slight crook of his lip and then chuckles. 
"Go slowly," you say.
He rocks back and forth gently, your hand clasps softly around his stiff cock, stroking as it glides in and out of your hand effortlessly with the remaining lube around your fingers.
You can feel him tentatively getting comfortable, the head of the dildo rubbing at his wet hole as he braves himself each time to push back that bit further onto it. 
He breathes out, relaxing, or trying to relax as best as he can. 
Javi stops, freezing, just as it pushes through the rim and gasps. “Fuck, fuck…”
“Slowly,” you ease again, your hand squeezing his thigh, rubbing gently. 
You’re tempted to buck up a little, help him through the initial pinching through the sphincters - you know he’ll be clenching.
But you also know he needs the control right now. He needs you to let him do it himself.
“I promise it’ll feel so good,” you say, jerking his cock a little harder. “Just relax.”
“I can’t relax when you’re doing that to my cock, fuck…” Javi groans. 
“I can stop-"
“No, no pares… feels so good.”
His fists press into the pillow either side of your head as he leans forward to drape kisses on your mouth and pelts your eyelashes with hot, tempered breaths. "You're fucking killing me, baby." He whispers.
"That's it, let it in. Fuck my cock, Javi. Just like that."
“Mm, shit…” he gasps as he lets his hips sink. “Bésame,” he says, pushing his lips against yours again.
You slip your tongue in his mouth as he whines, gasping as he breaks through. 
He slowly builds a momentum, one that steals his words and breath entirely as his grazed chin runs against your jaw. His cock slides into your palm further as he winds his hips. 
“Sit back, Javi. Let it fill you up.”
You put your hands on his thighs and push him backwards gently as he steadies himself upright. 
You raise both your knees up and it pushes the dildo further into his ass. 
“Fuck… Querida!” He pants, forehead and clavicle shiny with that sheen of sweat already as the room is engulfed with heat. 
“That feel good?” You ask, smiling at him.
God, he looks so fucking gorgeous on top of you right now. Face and chest flushed pink and glowing in the light. 
“Si, así, que bien se siente… Fuck!” 
“A little shift in position got you all fucked up, hmm?” You grin. 
“Fuck…” It’s all he can say as he works. 
You grip round his slippery, fat cock tighter, feeling it pulse against your palm like it has a spine of its own. 
“You’re cute when you ride me.”
“Shut up.” He grunts, blushing harder. 
“I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?” He gasps. 
“Shy.”
“Shut up.” He tries not to smirk under his moustache, but it’s fruitless. It pours out of his mouth like liquid gold dripping onto your tits. 
“You look so good, Javi. So fucking gorgeous.” He always does when he's on top giving it to you, but now you're giving it to him, and it's exquisite to watch him him take it all.
He leans forward again, kissing over your nose, making you smile as he works his hips a little faster on the end of your cock. “Querida, it feels-”
“Tell me.”
“It feels really good.” He grunts. “No puedo creer lo bien que se siente…”
“Told you you’d like it.” You giggle. You raise your hips again and he shudders. 
“Ah, fuck.”
“Your cock is so hard, Javi.” You say feeling it throb more in your fist. “You really like this, don’t you? You like me fucking your tight little ass, hmm?”
He doesn’t answer, but the look he gives you confirms it. He’s utterly beside it all, cracked open and split in half; a vacant, glassy look in his eyes. Drunk on silicone cock and drooling for more.
"Such a cock slut, aren't you?" 
"Hey!" He growls and you giggle again as he pants and whines.
He doesn't know what to do with himself, his large hands keep coming to your face and then to his hips, and back to your face again as he works and grinds. You’ve got him spun, in a tizz.
Javier Peña is a quivering wreck in front of you, on top of you, riding you.
It’s feels so fucking good he can’t think straight. 
You can only imagine what he’ll be like when you eventually get him face down into the mattress and fuck the shit out of his cute little ass.
The thought makes that hot spark flash down your spine and fizz on the end of your clit. You clench around nothing as you fuck up into him some more.
He’s shaking, you can hear it in his voice, those shudders rolling waves on his smoky breath that dislodge from the back cavity of his throat and tumble into your face, all warm and exposed as they peel open. 
“Mmm… mmm.” They flow out of his mouth as jumbled whimpers; little rattled grazes of pleasure between gritted teeth that plead for more and cower in the corner behind terrified eye sockets.
You lean up planting kisses over the smooth crest of his sternum, tasting the salt brine that slicks across it mixing with sweet remnants of your own mango shower gel.
You feel one of his hands supporting the back of your head, combing through your hair as you suck his feverish skin into your mouth. 
“Still feel good?” You query, looking up at him. 
Javi nods, unable to speak and you decide to thrust up into him that bit deeper. 
“Fuck!” He whines loudly, his head snapping back.
You stroke his cock harder, wet and rock solid in your hand as you pump. His whole body shakes now, moving in tandem with you.
“Are you gonna come soon, Javi?”
“Fuck… yeah…” he whispers raggedly. "Si, si..."
He pulls you up a little closer to him. Just his hips move, his cock crushed between the two of you now as he cradles you close, slicking between your stomachs as he grinds his ass deep on the dildo. 
“Oh fuck!” He growls louder, more unrestrained. 
“Yeah. That’s it.” You enthuse. 
He takes his cock, jerking it hard; sitting fully upright as his hips swivel around on the dildo stuffed tight in his ass. 
“Come for me, Javi.” You urge him, reaching up to stroke his chest. "Come all over me."
You buck up into him again, holding onto his shoulders, weighing him down on the dildo, noticing he’s stopped moving, and then he utterly loses it. 
The tip of his cock pulses and squirts thick, pearly ribbons of come from it, splashing over your breasts. 
He grunts with the strain, the pleasure coursing through his body at breakneck speed, flooding him. It feels like electricity in his bones, water filling in his lungs. 
“Fuck, fuck… fuck!” He pants. A small, breathy chuckle escapes him as he ejaculates; his cock continuing to leak all over his hand and you keep going, pushing up into him as he explodes. 
You kiss him delicately, pecking and licking at his lips.
“Mmm shit,” he murmurs against you. 
You buck up again, fucking him that little bit harder as he keeps fucking his fist.
“You’re not done yet, Javi.”
There’s so much of it spilling out of him onto your chest as the dildo rubs against the place deep inside of him that makes him boneless putty in your arms. 
“Q-querida.” He stammers out.
“Mmhmm?” 
“Fuck.”
“Feel good?”
“Yeah!” He puffs. 
“You coming again?”
“I don't think I've stopped... Jesus fucking Christ!”
"You feel so good, Javi." You praise as he whines and whimpers endlessly.
He flops forward, his body trembling.
“Do you think you can take it a little bigger next time?”
“Mmm, fuck… next time? I… shit.” He can’t even think about next time, he’s still reeling from this time. 
“You don’t want to?”
“No I do… no te detengas… I really fucking do.” He’s gasping now, babbling almost in a mix of clumsy Spanish and English as he tries to get his thoughts straight.
He doesn’t want it to end. His hand is a sticky mess, warm and full of his spend that keeps leaking from him. 
You giggle as he pushes his forehead against yours, the sweat slipping across it as he breathes out. He can barely keep himself upright. 
“Can I fuck you a bit harder?” You ask. 
“Que?”
"I wanna fuck you. From behind."
"Si..."
“On your hands and knees, baby.” You smirk at him as you kneel up between his legs as he gets into position.
You squirt some more lube over the dildo and push it gently against his stretched little hole. It squelches as you slide in easily and he hums out in keen want. 
You hold onto his cheeks, squeezing as you thrust your hips forward gently, sliding the dildo in with ease as he’s open and relaxed; nice and deep, and his groans shake the walls. 
His hand comes over his mouth as though he’s in shock at the noises he just made. 
“Let it out, baby.” You say. “I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel, Javi.”
“Mmm-mmm-mmm-fuck-fuck!” He faceplants into the pillow, back arching in a way you’ve never seen him flex before.
You see him push back, chasing your cock as you withdraw and plunge in. 
“You can’t get enough, can you?” You snicker.
He doesn’t answer, but you know that he wants more; know that he’s close to breaking point again as you fuck him harder. The slick pops of the dildo in and out of his ass fill your ears alongside his moans and growls.
He takes you well, takes you that bit harder as you fuck with determined resilience, your hips snapping into him now.
You’ll know he’ll stop you if it’s too much, you remind him to, but the way he’s growling and panting tells you he never wants you to stop.
“Querida, don’t… I… shit. Fuck!” He pants. “I can’t believe you’re fucking inside me, no puedo creerlo.”
Javi whines, long and low as you grind a little more frantically now, fuck him deeper as he twists at the sheets, grinds on his teeth until they’re worn down to flat stumps in his gums. 
“Come for me, Javier.” You press.
His cock still hasn’t fully recovered yet, still half hard, but it doesn’t matter, another creamy load starts to leak from it as you grind up agaisnt that sweet spot inside him, spurting thick globs across the sheets below him.
And he can’t quite believe it. 
“There we go.” You praise as you watch Javi shatter into pieces for the second time. 
You lean over him, kissing his clammy back gently. "You okay?" You whisper in his ear.
He nods, turning to catch your lips on his his. You pull out of him slowly and gently, discarding the strap-on across the messed up bed and nuzzle into him as he collapses on his back. 
He welcomes you in with open, trembling arms, sticky with sweat and come. You feel it smear across your stomach as you get comfy, gluing yourself to him. 
“Fuck,” Javi whimpers into your hairline, a shaky kiss pasted there. 
“How do you feel?” You ask, fingers stroking over his cut jaw. 
He sighs out. “Like... I need about fifty cigarettes.” Javi chuckles, his chest rumbling under you. "Shit."
"You liked it?"
"Si, very much so." He squeezes you in his arms.
“So, do you still hate birthdays?” You query with a smirk after a few minutes of listening to his heartbeat regain its regular pace. 
The heat in the room is still stifling and you stick further to him.
Javi chuckles, shaking his head with some slack wonderment. “Sin comentarios.” 
“I’ll take that as a no,” you confirm with a grin, nuzzling into him. “Feliz cumpleaños, Javi.”
"Gracias, querida."
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JAVI SPANISH:
Si, cariño - Yes, baby/darling
Vamos a casa - Let's go home
Feliz Cumpleaños - Happy Birthday
¿Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?
Ojos en el camino, señor - Keep your eyes on the road, sir
No te arrepentirás lo prometo - You won't regret it, I promise
Querida - Dear/baby/darling
Sabes que lo hago - You know I do
Mierda - Shit
Ven aquí - Come here
Estas listo? - Are you ready?
No, no pares - No, don't stop
Bésame - Kiss me
Si, así, que bien se siente - Yes, it feels so good
No puedo creer lo bien que se siente - I can't believe how good it feels
No te detengas - Don't stop
Que? - What?
No puedo creerlo - I can't believe it
Sin comentarios - No comment
Gracias, querida - Thank you, darling
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Thanks so much for reading! Please consider re-blogging if you enjoyed this story. I'd love to know your thoughts on pegging Javi! Thank you, lovelies! 🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST | JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST
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muffinlance · 8 months
Note
prompt: Ozai has Azula watch Zuko (his progress or rather lack thereof) from way earlier on, possibly even before Aang gets away from the iceberg in the first place
There it is, written at the bottom of his banishment notice, wobbling in and out of his vision and he’s not sure if it's his eyes—
(Father wouldn’t have meant to blind him. Being blind won't help him catch the Avatar, so he’ll just not go blind.)
It’s either his eyes, or. Or the rage. It has to be the rage.
So Zuko reads the line again, and lets the fire brim up and overflow, until sparks chase the shout from his lips.
“Banishment to be overseen by Crown Princess Azula?”
- - -
“Prince Zuko,” Azula says, standing as tall as an eleven year old can. She’s using his title, so that he’ll use hers. And if he doesn’t then he’s ill-mannered and not fit for his own. 
“Crown Princess Azula,” Zuko grits out.
“I’ll just be inspecting your ship, then. Father’s orders.”
Two men are in shackles by the time she’s done. 
“—Fostering mutiny against your prince,” she is yelling, and somehow her voice is just as high-pitched as his without sounding childish at all. “When our father hears about this—”
- - -
“So you had them executed,” Fire Lord Ozai inquires. Lightly. And from behind his flames.
“Of course, father,” says the kneeling child. “It was an attack on our family.”
Her father doesn’t say anything.
Azula is eleven. Eleven, she had presumed, was old enough to count. 
One, two, three. Four, with Uncle. The royal family.
Her father is silent still.
One. Two.
“Forgive my impertinence, Fire Lord,” she says. “I will bring them to you for judgment next time.”
“Do so,” Fire Lord Ozai says. He does not contest the ‘next time.’
- - -
“Crown Princess Azula,” Zuko says.
“Your bandage is off, brother,” Azula says. “Are you blind?”
“No.”
(The blur of her red robes, the eye-searing glint of sunlight off her headpiece—he’s not blind in that eye. He’s just… still recovering.)
“Lovely,” she says. “Then what’s your excuse for the condition of this ship?”
…He has an increased budget for repairs, by the time she’s done. 
- - -
“Brother,” Azula says, “traditionally knives are to be delivered to the back.”
“I… what?” her brother says, still holding out the inexplicable thing. “No, I bought it at port. For you. See, it matches the one Uncle got me.”
“How original,” she says.
Her brother turns a shade of red that puts his bending to shame. Not that it’s a particularly high bar. “Fine, I’ll just—throw it out.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. At the least, Mai will want it.”
- - -
“Nice knife,” says Mai, looking at the hilt peeking out of Azula’s boot.
“Be silent,” Azula says, thus ending that conversation.
- - -
“Did great-grandfather… did we…” starts her brother, fresh from scurrying about the Eastern Air Temple like some particularly dim-witted pheasant-monkey, the dust not even brushed from his clothes even though he knew her ship was waiting down here. “Azula, there were children—”
“Be silent,” she says.
- - -
“You’re leaving frequently,” comments father, as his knife cuts through the pheasant-monkey, clicking against the plate below. The persimmon-cherry sauce is thick and red and smearing.  
“I find it advantageous to cultivate a working knowledge of our nation’s tactics,” Azula answers. She does not push around her meat like a child, but she does eat only lightly; the dish is more sour than she remembers.
“And your brother?”
“Oh, him,” she says, to which her father smiles.
- - -
“...What?” Zuko asks, blinking down at the scrolls. 
“It’s your birthday,” Azula says. “Apparently, I should have gotten you a calendar.”
“Thank you?”
She sighs.
- - -
“Do we… tell him we can hear him?” asks the assistant cook, as the prince continues monologuing. Dramatically, and loudly. Through the pipe connecting the drain of the kitchen sink to the ones in the shower. 
“Ssh, I think this is one of his new plays.”
- - -
She gets him a calendar for his next birthday. It’s not funny.
- - -
He gets her a doll, for hers. The look on Uncle’s face as she torches it in front of them both is hilarious.
- - -
“Brother,” she says, looking up at the damage to his ship. “This is not the way to requisition additional repair funds.”
“Captain Zhao,” her uncle says in the background, with heights of pleasant antagonism she can only aspire to. As if a general could mistake Zhao’s new insignia. Particularly with all the polishing he does. 
“It’s commander now.”
“How did you manage this?” she asks.
“Uh,” Zuko says. “Can we… speak alone?”
She eyes her brother’s shifting stance. Eyes, too, the way Zhao’s men are already moving to intercept and interrogate his crew. One of the new commander’s more noxious habits is stalking her brother’s every move. 
Well. She’d been meaning to deal with that, anyway.
Azula snaps her fingers at the commander’s guards.
“Detain him,” she says. And for a moment, just a moment, her dear uncle freezes, as if she were talking about someone he actually cared for.
The guards don’t. She’s trained them better than that.
“Princess,” Commander Zhao says, his snarl well hidden behind a smile. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Crown Princess Azula,” she corrects. “Now hush; the adults are talking.”
- - -
They have an Avatar to catch, apparently. Her brother is coming home.
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stark-raving-romantic · 7 months
Text
Since we all agree the Harry Potter is NOT it...here's a fun poll! These are just my picks but if you feel that I've neglected one, tell me and I'll make another poll, the winners can face off or something.
Please reblog to break containment!
Pride and Prejudice: It is a truth universally acknowledged , that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
Northanger Abbey: No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be a heroine.
Anne of Green Gables: Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies' eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade; but by the time it reached Lynde's Hollow it was a quiet, well-conducted little stream, for not even a brook could run past Mrs. Rachel Lynde's door without due regard for decency and decorum; it probably was conscious that Mrs. Rachel was sitting at her window, keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed, from brooks and children up, and that if she noticed anything odd or out of place she would never rest until she had ferreted out the whys and wherefores thereof.
The Graveyard Book: There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.
Romeo and Juliet:
"Two households, both alike in dignity
 (In fair Verona, where we lay our scene),
 From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
 Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean."
Tuck Everlasting: The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning.
Fahrenheit 451: It was a pleasure to burn.
The Hobbit: In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
A Christmas Carol: MARLEY WAS DEAD, to begin with.
The Secret Garden: When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Far Out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.
Percy Jackson/The Lightning Thief: Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood
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marlynnofmany · 1 year
Text
A Peaceful Upheaval
The mutiny started politely enough. This was a courier ship, not some rowdy bandit cruiser, and the dozen or so people onboard approached the situation with all the calm levelheadedness of businessfolks at a board meeting. The captain was new. He was bad at this. He’d only gotten the job because his cousin had recommended him, and she was probably regretting that.
“We will discuss the matter with Captain Kamm when we land,” said Piercing Sunlight, the lizardlike Heatseeker with bright yellow scales. She was taking point in the conversation.
“Kamm doesn’t have to hear about this,” objected Captain Pockap, his green tentacles lashing in agitation. “All of you need to go back to your stations and reconsider how you talk to your captain.” He looked like an octopus with freckles, and he sounded like a petulant child.
“Did you not hear the statement?” Zhee asked with an irritated click of his pincher arms. His patience never seemed lengthy, but now it was getting shorter by the minute. “You are no longer our captain. We have decreed it.” His exoskeleton shone with purple glory, and he radiated annoyance.
The rest of the crew spoke up, agreeing in one way or another. Teeth were bared, and body parts I didn’t have made increasingly urgent threat displays.
I, the only human and the newest arrival to the team, stayed well in the back. This really wasn’t my business. I didn’t have much of a say. And I didn’t like the direction it was going.
When Pockap the ex-captain started yelling, I gave up on playing silent witness and ducked into the next room. I’d seen him pull a tiny stun gun out of nowhere before, hidden among his tentacles, and I didn’t like the odds of him opening fire on the crew.
Just as I thought that, he yelled “Who emptied the charge in this??” Then came the loud slap of a tentacle against someone’s face, followed by insulted gasps and an open brawl.
I edged farther from the door, looking around and realizing I’d trapped myself in the storage room where the extra stun guns were kept. Great choice. Stellar. And there was only one door.
Time to be a hide-and-seek champion, I thought as the sounds of alien violence grew closer. Somebody else gets to wrestle the octopus with the gun.
My hiding options weren’t great: under a table, behind a crate, maybe inside a cabinet, and the ventilation shaft was too small. The table and crate were terrible coverage. The cabinet with the stun guns was close to the door, but the one against the far wall looked big enough. I dashed over and flung it open.
Yup, that’ll do. Only the bottom shelves were full; the top three held just a couple stray tools, and I knew from time spent cleaning that the shelves were removable. I yanked out the top ones, stashed them below, then climbed in to curl up in a space that was roomier than my childhood closet. I crouched among wrenches and whatever, watching through the air slits as I pulled the door shut, making sure to keep it from latching. Locking myself in was another problem I didn’t need.
Speaking of problems, I thought as Pockap spun into the room, his green tentacles thrashing against Mur’s dark blue ones in a cartoonish tumble. I’d never seen two Strongarms fight before. It was kind of funny. They were slapping at each other’s faces and going for eye gouges, which meant neither could see where they were going. They knocked over the table and spread tools all over the floor before anyone else caught up.
When the twin Frillians waded in to break it up, followed by other beefy crewmembers, an unfortunate development happened: Pockap found a stun gun.
“Back off!” he shouted, blasting the nearest Frillian in the face and wriggling free of Mur’s grasp. Mur ducked behind a box while the other Frillian caught her frozen brother before he could hurt himself against the floor. Pockap froze her too, then brandished the gun at everyone else, yelling about how much the stun would hurt when it wore off, and how they had better respect him or else.
I held very still inside my cabinet.
What can I do? I thought. Too bad I can’t call the other ship from here. Nobody’s told Kamm yet. I shifted in place to keep my feet from falling asleep, and nudged the random tools I hadn’t cleared out. I froze at the scraping noise.
No one heard; they were all busy shouting at each other.
What even is this one — Oh hey. I rested my hand on the distinct shape of another stun gun. Whoever put things away last time did a terrible job, and I thank them for it.
I held it up in the dim light. Half power. Good enough for self defense. Or…
“One step closer and you’re spending the rest of the trip as a statue!” Pockap was yelling. “Only thawing out to hurt before getting frozen again!”
I opened the door just enough to snake my arm through, aimed, and zapped him in the back of the head.
Pockap froze mid-rant, and slowly toppled forward. Stunned silence filled the room until somebody saw my hand.
“Ha!” Sunlight laughed. “Is there a human in there? How did you fit? Great shot.”
I opened the door the rest of the way to loud approval, with half the crew exclaiming over the way their tall new crewmate folded up so well, and the rest dealing with Pockap’s mess.
“No amicable splitting of ways for this one,” Mur declared, cradling a sprained tentacle. “I won’t be writing him a reference.”
“No, I don’t think any of us will,” Sunlight said. She gazed at him thoughtfully as I climbed down. “Let’s call Kamm. No point in waiting til we land; she’ll want to know.”
“I’ll put the stun guns away,” I volunteered. “This cabinet is full of things in the wrong place.”
“Thank you,” Sunlight told me. “How did you fit in there? You have bones. Have you practiced hiding in tight spaces before?”
“No more than the next person,” I said. “Though I was really good at hide-and-seek as a kid.”
The lizardy alien blinked at me. “Hide and what?”
“It’s where everybody hides and one person has to find them,” I explained. “Then the last person found has to take a turn as the seeker.”
Zhee tipped the table back upright with his pincher arms. “Half of that sounds like a standard predator game, but I can’t imagine taking turns being prey too. How embarrassing.”
I shrugged. “If you say so. It was pretty useful today.”
“Yes,” Sunlight said with a smile. “You’re only prey until you decide otherwise! That’s the spirit. Well, we’re grateful for your childhood practice today. Let’s get this  unworthy individual locked up, then talk strategy. I have some ideas of how we can improve on Pockap’s business plan that I think everyone will be on board with.”
I had no doubt. Captain Piercing Sunlight would be a much better leader than her predecessor.
She started off by giving me a bonus for putting my skills to good use, so clearly she was very wise.
~~~
The further adventures in backstory for the book! There’s more to come.
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ltwilliammowett · 6 months
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Life on board a 17th century warship
The sailing crew was divided into two watches under the two lieutenants, each working for four hours while the other rested. While off duty, they were expected to stay below decks and out of the way, but could be called to work at any time if all hands were required, such as when anchoring or making a major sail change. When below, they probably tried to sleep as much as they could, since the four-hour schedule is not natural and quickly leads to fatigue. When not sleeping, they probably used much of the time off watch to mend their clothes and shoes, but they might relax with games, music or a popular new pastime, smoking, although this was only allowed in the cookroom.
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War Ships 17th Century, by Jefferys, Charles W. 1942 in: The Picture Gallery of Canadian History Volume 1, p.99
Food was also prepared in the cookroom, a brick-lined hearth in front of the mainmast in the hold, and carried up to the gundecks in buckets, where it was doled out into big wooden bowls. Depending on the ship, food could also be prepared in the galley, which was located in the forecastle or midships.
Each man had his own wooden spoon, and some had wooden plates, but most ate from the bowl shared by a mess, a group of six or seven men who ate and lived together. They drank weak beer, "ship's ale," from a shared wooden tankard. The base of the diet was salted meat for protein and dried peas and bread for carbohydrates. Barrels full of bones found in the hold show that the meat was mostly beef, with a little pork and mutton, as well as fish and poultry. Interessting fact was that some of the crew were prepared to supplement this, as fishing equipment and hunting weapons were found in shipwrecks like the Vasa, as well as the bones of roe deer, moose, and grouse. The skeletons of chickens suggest that a few fresh eggs were available.
As in other navies, they did not issue uniforms in that time, the men had to buy or make their own clothes. In some cases cloth was provided as part of their salary, but the typical sailor's clothing was the same as the clothing they arrived in from the farm or town: a linen shirt, a short, skirted woollen doublet (jacket), wool trousers that ended below the knee, woollen socks, and leather shoes. Many had broad-brimmed hats or conical caps. The cloth varied from coarse homespun to imported dyed fabrics, but almost all sailors sewed strips of contrasting cloth or even lace down the outside seams of their trousers in imitation of the clothing worn by the well-to-do. Clothes had to be hard-wearing, since most people could not afford more than one set.
The senior officers lived aft in the cabins of the sterncastle, where they had more space, glass windows, proper furniture, and ate their meals from pewter or earthenware table service. They had finer clothes, but as more than one visitor to Sweden from the continent remarked, it was difficult to tell the nobles from the peasants, since they dressed alike. The officers also had to share their accommodation, sleeping in pairs in narrow double beds, but the cabins were built to resemble the interior of houses ashore. The great cabin, where the king or an admiral would stay, was fitted out like a room in the royal palace, with fine panelling and carved sculptures that emphasised the power of the people who lived there.
The 17th century was a violent period, and both on shore and at sea brutal punishments were prescribed for even minor crimes. Conscripts often came from rough backgrounds, but discipline was essential for the smooth and safe functioning of a ship. In crowded conditions, small disagreements could easily blow up into fights, grumbling could turn to mutiny. Officers had to earn the trust of the men they commanded, but needed the option of punishment for the intractable. The articles of war specified that a person causing a fire was to be cast into the same fire, a person starting a fight was to be stabbed through the hand with a knife, blasphemers and those speaking ill of the king or his officers were to be keelhauled, murderers should be tied to their victims and thrown in the sea. In practice, a captain who had to use these punishments too often risked losing the respect of his men and his fellow captains and could not rule for long.
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johntorrington · 4 months
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the terror is about a lot of things but fundamentally it is about serious acting in the silliest of hats. references below
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I love Dundy so so much but Christ, do I hate how fucking calm he seems in that Lawful Mutiny scene...!
Little is riled the fuck up. He's the most animated and impassioned we've perhaps ever seen him, using uncharacteristically expressive language too ("this coven of traitors", "that devil").
Le Vesconte, in sharp contrast, appears cool and collected, to the point of complete detachment and numbness (I say appears because of course he's suffering too). He speaks slowly and plainly, clearly having rehearsed, and chooses his words very very carefully indeed (those too ill to walk will not be left behind, for example, they'll just "stay").
It's almost like he's that arsehole in a disagreement who tries to convince you that they're right just because they're arguing in a calm, 'logical', grammatically-correct manner, and you're wrong just because you're getting passionate and emotional over the subject at hand.
Like, just imagine being Little in that situation!
You've been suppressing your emotions for god knows how long, keeping your anger and resentment simmering just below the surface for as long as you can remember for fear of what will happen if you let those emotions show, fear that it'll just make things worse.
But finally you can suppress no longer, something in you breaks. All that anger and resentment starts to boil over but you find that you were right - letting those emotions show didn't help at all, it made everything worse, just as you feared.
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bloomeng · 2 months
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In the early onset of their relationship, Stede and Ed had a tendency to lay awake, giggling into the night, still giddy at the notion of their togetherness. Ed lay on his back, with Stede nestled against his side tracing the worn lines of his tattoos, attempting to map out the landscape of a previous lifetime. Quietly he would inquire as to the origin of each; what was their meaning, where was he when he got it, how old was he?
Most of the tattoos, Ed says, he barely remembers getting. If he does remember they rarely have interesting stories.
“Got this one because I thought it would look cool.”
“This one’s from a dare against Jack.”
“This one is a reminder.”
Stede was surprised to find that Izzy had done many of them. Most of the smaller ones at least, Ed had said, the larger ones—they both decided— were best handled by more qualified artists. According to Ed, Izzy was fairly good with a needle, and shockingly good at eyeballing symmetry. Stede could agree, especially next to the shaky linework of Jack’s masterfully illustrated…
“Think it’s supposed to be a dolphin? I don’t know mate, we were fucking wasted.”
They laugh together, and when it settles Stede resumes his journey across Ed’s skin. He gets to a small tattoo located high on his thigh, faded but still clearly visible, two swords crossed.
“And this one?” Stede suspects it to be another of the ornamental ones, but Ed pauses.
“One of the first tattoos I ever got. Might actually be the first.” Ed traces over it idly as he speaks. “I got it for Iz. It’s my matching tattoo to his.” He laughs nervously. “Not a one-for-one match, but he did let me mark him— my north star.” He taps his cheek just below his right eye. “And I got his swords.”
Stede hums to himself thoughtfully. Just like all the others he asks, “How old were you?”
“Fuck, had to be only twenty at the time. Remember being sorta nervous about the pain, but Jack already had at least ten, so he kept telling me the thigh wouldn’t hurt much at all. But honestly, the pain wasn’t actually going to stop me, cause I wanted it so badly. I was so set on the swords. I even stole Iz’s sword to show to the artist because I needed it to be accurate.” Ed had a far-off look in his eye. “He was right pissed at me for that, but showing him the tattoo afterward softened the blow.”
“And Izzy?” Stede’s voice is softer than before.
“Izzy? He was closer to thirty, but he didn’t get his at the same time. Wasn’t until we mutinied that I gave him his star. It was my idea. I was still hanging onto the idea of matching. Originally, I was gonna go for something more dangerous looking, put it on his thigh, so we could be a proper pair, but he stopped me. It ended up being his idea to do the star. Was shocked when he told me where he wanted it.”
Ed's hand lingers over the swords, with unspoken words caught in his throat. When he finally opens his mouth to speak again, Stede expects him to elaborate but instead, he simply moves on to the next tattoo without prompting. Stede half listens, pondering privately, trying to picture a world in which Ed was chasing after Izzy.
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discovery: welcome aboard the discovery, a custom-built science vessel that can conquer the pack ice in four days. our crew is young, dumb, and full of hope. we’ve got Captain Anxiety (Bachelor Edition), Slam Poetry Storemaster, Dr Polar-Bear-Dick-In-A-Jar, Frankie Wild-o, and Bilson <3. they know everything will be alright, because it will be! enjoy the cross-dressing theatricals, bi-weekly debates, and complimentary balloon rides! 
terra nova: hop aboard our leaky blubber-stained whaler bitch. do our motor sledges work? no. are our ponies dropping like flies? yes. is providence gonna let us have just one good day? fuck no. officers include Captain Anxiety (Dad Edition), Scurvilicious Himbo, Antivaxxer Eeyore, Ooze, Near-sighted Impostor Syndrome Lordling, and Uncle Bilson <3. if you want to shatter your teeth while camping tentless in 70 below, spend your anniversary in an ice hovel grateful to eat 10 raisins, or lose your foot to frostbite because you ate a hot curry, you’ve come to the right place. also, hut point is for plotting mutiny, and the dogs aren’t coming to save you. great god. (based on https://t.co/VSAxmMgoFm)
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