#power hungry v people pleasing-what will win?
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Applied for supervisor but torn between my desire for power and the need to be liked:
#lawblr#the real lawblr#about me#my work#applying for jobs#supervisor#will and grace#power hungry v people pleasing-what will win?
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Hunting the Tawtute
Kinktober Day 19: Threesome
Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader x Lo’ak
Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Neteyam, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Primal Kink (Hunter/Prey Kink), Oral (female receiving and male receiving), P in V, Fingering, Handjob, Breath Play, Dirty Talk, Size Difference, Belly Bulge, Alien Genitalia, Slight Knife Play, Multiple Orgasms, Bukkake, Hair Pulling, Slight Humiliation, Slight Thigh Riding, Knots/Knot Play (but no actual knotting), Marking Kink/Biting
Word Count: 5.4K (of pure self-indulgent fantasy)
A/N: I don’t even know what to say about this. This one kinda like so fucking much got away from me. It’s like I went crazy, blacked out, and this happened. Hopefully some of you guys will like it too as much as I liked writing it.
Summary: When the Omatikaya raid an RDA outpost, you just barely escape the carnage with your life. You're stumbling through the forest when they find you, and the dark grins on their faces make shivers run down your spine. You try to run, but they’ll catch you - they’re little beautiful prey.
Extra: Pretty, But Not Stupid
**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**
Translations:
Tawtute - Human
Mountain Banshee - Large, dragon-like aerial predators
Sevin - Pretty
Vrrtep - Demon
Paskalin - Sweet Berry (term of endearment)
The ground is shaking underneath you as you run, booming with the force of the explosions and gunfire racking the now nonexistent RDA outpost. You can still hear the screaming, both war cries and cries of terror, echoing through the forest as your tired legs carry you further and further away.
You’re gasping for breath, heart feeling like it's going to pound out of your chest as you sob. You hated the RDA, they were mostly all power hungry assholes anyway, but some people in the outpost were good - innocent people who fled Earth just to get away from the horror there, only to be met with a fate possibly crueler here. All the cooks, cleaners, and medical professionals who just wanted a chance - all dead within minutes of the start of the emergency alarm that blared through the base. If not by the explosions, then currently being picked off without mercy by the Na’vi.
You’re lucky to even be alive right now.
You shake your head, trying to ignore how your heavy, panicked breathing is fogging up your mask and how you can barely see through your tears. You need to keep going. You can’t think about it now. Can’t think about the carnage you're running from and the people you’re leaving behind. You need to find safety.
You run a little further, trying not to trip on any more upturned roots. You fell over one a little ways back, and your ankle protests the more weight you put on it, but the fear of being found and killed keeps you going. You quickly round another tree and stop, bracing your hand on the bark of the massive trunk and lifting your hurt ankle up a bit just to relieve the pressure for a moment. Your eyes hurriedly scan the area, trying to keep an eye out for danger you wouldn’t even be able to defend yourself against. Even if you did have some kind of a weapon (which you don’t, you barely had enough time to sprint away with your life as it was, let alone grab any kind of form of defense), you wouldn’t be able to win against the strength and prowess of one of the natives anyway.
A sharp gasp leaves your lips when your eye catches movement a few trees down from you. There’s a male Na’vi standing there, long braids still swinging around his shoulders from his abrupt movement, and he has an arrow notched and pulled back, strong muscles and chest bulging behind the bow as he steadies the arrow - the arrow that’s pointed directly at you.
“Wait!” You yell, hands instinctively coming up to protect your face as if they could ever stop the Na’vi sized arrow. “Wait! Please, don’t shoot!”
The male stops, curious amber eyes locked on your trembling figure, and to your complete shock, he lowers the arrow. Why isn’t he killing you? The Na’vi kill humans on sight, they don’t hesitate. You should have been dead the second he saw you. But you’re not. He lowered his arrow, and for a brief moment relief and hope flood your chest.
“I mean you no harm,” You call, voice shaking. “Please, don’t k-kill me,”
The male tilts his head at you and you watch cautiously as he puts his bow away, reattaching it to his back, before reaching up to touch his throat. From this distance you can just see the outline of a necklace. A throat comm, you think. He has his fingers pressed against the buttons and you can’t hear what he’s saying, but you see his lips moving as he talks to whoever is on the other line.
A dark smirk curls at his lips as he speaks. He’s looking directly at you and whatever hope you had disappears as dread fills your entire being.
You are going to die.
You can’t stay here, staying still even as he’s watching you is a risk. If you’re going to die, you’re at least going to go down trying to live.
You turn to run, making it just a few steps away from the tree before the canopy bursts above you, a roaring shriek piercing your ears as a large blue and purple mountain banshee descends down towards the forest floor. You scream, falling back on your ass as the dragon-like animal lands just feet from you, the wind from its strong wings beating over your body and making your hair whip around your face.
The banshee’s rider descends from its back, landing on the ground with a thud and disconnecting his neural queue from the animal. He stalks towards you, golden eyes gleaming behind a few loose braids falling in front of them, and he grins, long pointed canines biting into his bottom lip.
“Where you running to, sevin tawtute?”
With another terrified sob, you scramble to your feet. The second Na’vi’s low chuckle, despite being fairly quiet, rings loudly in your ears, and you can hear the footsteps of the first’s getting closer and closer to you each second.
“Don’t do it,” The second warns, and you don’t even have the mental capacity to realize that he’s speaking to you in English. You’re already spinning and darting away in the opposite direction.
You run as fast as you can through the dense Pandorian forest. They’re chasing you, you can hear their footsteps pounding against the forest floor behind you. They mock you, first just making quick yipping and whooping calls, communicating with each other in a way you would never even begin to understand. And then they switch to your language.
“Better run faster, human!”
“Getting tired already, baby?”
“Can you feel my breath on the back of your pretty neck?”
“We’re going to get you!”
Your sobs get louder, terrified as you try to push yourself harder. They sound so close, like they’re right behind you, like they could just reach out and grab you. But they don’t. They’re playing with you. They’re faster than you, their legs significantly longer than yours and more adept at running and navigating the forest terrain. They’re letting you keep going on purpose, finding glee in your terror and enjoyment in chasing their prey.
Your ankle is aching, pain shooting from the twisted limb, and your running is quickly turning into panicked hobbling. You can’t do it anymore. Can’t do it - they’re going to get you. Without thinking, you dive under a slightly uprooted tree - the tilt of the base giving you just enough room to crawl under the trunk, thick roots caging you in and separating you from the two male Na’vi.
The second you make it through, there’s a burst of movement as the long haired male slides in front of the opening, long arm sticking through the roots and reaching for you. You whimper when his fingers brush your mask and you try to scoot yourself further back against the dirt, but there isn’t much room.
“Come out of there,” He says, voice soft like he’s trying to coax you out, but the underlining reverb of a growl taints the attempt. “It’s dangerous under there,”
“Yes, tawtute,” The other says, long legs visible from behind his brother’s upper body. “Much safer out here with us,”
You can’t help the anger and frustration that wells inside you as you hear the absolute lie they are trying to tell you.
“Bullshit,” You spit.
The long haired male removes his reaching arm and peers at you through the roots, eyes alight with mirth. “Oh, you hear that, brother? Our little vrrtep has a mouth on her,”
The other male chuckles and squats down to peer at you through your self imposed cage. “And what a pretty mouth it is. Can’t wait to see what else it can do,”
Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. That sounded . . . suggestive. That couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like, right?
“What do you say, sevin? Want your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?” He asks, playful fingers lifting up the front of his loincloth slightly as if to tease you. And then, suddenly, there’s a new fear taking over.
They don’t want to catch you to kill you - they want you.
“My name is Lo’ak,” He continues, lifting his hand from his loincloth to wiggle his fingers at you in greeting. Five fingers, you notice. “You know, just so you know what to scream out later when I’m fucking you,”
More tears well up in your eyes, cascading down your flushed cheeks. “P-please. Don’t hurt m-me,” You beg, wide eyes pleading with the large blue men holding you hostage to show you mercy. “I’ll leave! I promise! You’ll never see me again,”
“She begs so beautifully already,” The other male says, nudging his brother’s arm. “She’s gonna sound so good when she’s crying in pleasure. Go ahead and try it out for me, paskalin. Let me hear you say it: Neteyam,”
Neteyam looks at her expectantly, golden green eyes dark from where his pupils have nearly completely taken over.
“Fuck you,” You hiss. You try to put as much malice and ferocity in your words as you can muster, but Neteyam only grins at your curse.
“Yeah, tawtute. That’s the idea,”
Lo’ak suddenly moves, shifting over to the side of the tree and you panic at the abrupt movement, scrambling over and pressing your back against the roots on the opposite side just to be as far from him as possible.
“Come on out, baby,” He purrs, eyes hooded as he stares at you. “Don’t you want to take a ride? Feel some big alien cock in your pretty, tiny pussy?”
You open your mouth again to shoot some more choice expletives at him, but all that comes out is a scream when the roots behind you rip and a large hand grips at your hair, dragging your body from its hiding spot and into the dimming light of the forest.
Neteyam hauls you up on your feet, fist tangled in your hair keeping you from running and grabs one of your swinging arms, pinning it behind your back. Lo’ak steps in front of you, tall and imposing at nearly twice your height, but you still try to fight, fight for your life and your freedom, and your hand smacks as hard as it can against his hip.
It doesn’t do anything to him obviously, you’re not even sure if he felt it, but all the fight leaves you in an instant when the large knife the size of your forearm waves in your face.
“You’re gonna be a good girl for us now, okay?” He says, tapping the glass of your mask with the tip of his knife as if he were trying to boop your nose. The tip of the knife travels down your neck, over your collarbone, and towards the center of your chest. If you were able to think correctly, you would be amazed at the control he has over the blade to not let it cut you despite your chest heaving with your frantic breathing. “Stay still now,”
The knife travels towards the valley between your breasts, taking the neck of your t-shirt with it and pulling it down and down until Lo’ak just cleanly slices through the whole front of it. Neteyam releases your arm now that you're not fighting against them anymore, but still keeps a firm grip on your hair. The ruined shirt slips from your shoulders and Lo’ak brings the knife back up to hook underneath the band of your bra, slicing through the material like it was paper and pushing the remnants of that off of your body as well.
“Such a pretty little thing,” He muses, running the flat of the blade across one of your exposed breasts, the cool metal making you shiver as it presses against your heated skin. Lo’ak twists the knife and places the very tip of it at your nipple. The sharp edge makes you gasp, the bud starting to harden immediately at the feeling and you can’t help but feel mortified when you feel wetness pool in your panties.
Lo’ak’s nose twitches, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as his large amber eyes catch yours, but it’s Neteyam that digs the metaphorical knife deeper, furthering your humiliation and making your face burn.
“Aw, is the cute little tawtute getting wet for us? We can smell you,” Neteyam laughs, dragging your head back further so he can get a good look at your face. “Look, brother. Look how flushed she’s getting,”
“You think that flush is going all the way down here?” Lo’ak asks, the tip of the knife leaving your nipple to tease your clit over your shorts.
“Rip them off and find out,” Neteyam suggests, and you start to wriggle again in his unrelenting grasp.
“Wait!” You shout. Your neck is still craned up towards the sky, so you only feel rather than see Lo’ak undo your button and zipper. “Wait, please. I’ll do anything,”
“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees, looking down at your pleading face. His fingers latch onto one of your hard nipples and pulls on it, eliciting a sharp gasp from your plump lips. “You will,”
In an instant, Lo’ak yanks your shorts and panties down and Neteyam moves behind you to kneel on the forest floor, one knee pressing into the ground while the other acts as a stabilizer, foot flat against the ground. Neteyam’s grip on your hair is released as he grabs you by your hips instead, pulling you up to sit on his thigh, bare pussy pressing against the bulging muscles.
The feeling of his muscles tensing under you makes more heat pool in your stomach, and your pussy is wet and sticky already as you squirm against him. Your legs fall on either side of his and even with him kneeling your feet still can’t touch the ground, toes just barely brush against the grass and only if you’re actually stretching to reach it. But the additional stretch just makes you push your cunt harder against his thigh and you whimper, not knowing what to do or how to move.
Neteyam wraps a restraining arm around your chest, trapping one of your arms under his and grabbing onto your other bicep, his large hand practically spanning the entirety of your upper arm and pinning it down. His other hand moves up to his mouth, long middle finger sliding between his lips, licking the long digit and pulling it out when it’s wet and glistening in the setting sunlight. He brings his wet finger to your core, dipping it between your folds and circling your clit.
“So wet already, tawtute,” He whispers, lips brushing against the curve of your ear.
You whimper as he rubs you, dipping his finger down lower to gather more of your wetness and dragging it back up to tease small circles around your pulsing nub. When his fingers trail down again, it's to press at your entrance, and you can’t help the whiny moan that escapes you as his finger slips easily inside your leaking hole.
Lo’ak’s been watching you this whole time, crouching down to get a good, clear look at your glistening pink cunt, and the sight of his brother’s finger sliding inside of you prompts him to have some fun of his own. He stands, fingers moving quickly to untie his loincloth, the material loosening and sliding down his legs, flittering to the ground below him.
You’re distracted, Neteyam’s finger is rubbing against your gummy walls, sliding in and out effortlessly while his thumb plays with your clit, so you don’t realize what’s so wrong with Lo’ak’s body until he’s directly in front of you - naked pelvis and even more naked center only a foot away from your face.
Your eyes widen as you look at it, confusion written all over your face as you stare at the empty, flat space where his member should be. Lo’ak laughs at the bewildered look on your face and Neteyam mouths at your shoulder to hide his own grin.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” Lo’ak says. “I’ve got plenty of cock for you. It’s just hidden. I’ll get it out for you since you're a little tied up.”
His fingers reach down to rub at the empty space and you watch in fascinated awe as he plays down there, fingers pressing in harder and sliding against the hidden slit you hadn’t seen before. His fingers dip inside, eyes closing in pleasure for a moment before they flick back open, sultry hooded orbs locked on your own.
“What the f–ahh!” You cry, eyes squeezing shut, back arching in pleasure against Neteyam as another of his fingers pushes inside you. They’re long enough on their own, the combined thickness enough to feel like a cock inside you already.
When your eyes open again, they lock immediately on what’s happening between Lo’ak’s legs. There’s something poking out from the slit and it takes your scared and pleasure hazed brain way too long to realize it’s his cock. It’s just the head peeking out, the mushroomed lavender tip like a bright, slick beacon between his dark blue thighs. He grins when your mouth falls open at the sight, fingers dipping back into his wet slit and pulling out another inch.
Every inch of his cock has your eyes widening, the long and hard length now fully unsheathed and bumping against his belly. Blue skin and even darker stripes litter the shaft, small bioluminescent freckles scatter towards the top and lead to the light purple tip. A fleeting thought has you thinking it's pretty, the colors blending in beautifully with one another, but when you see the textured bumps decorating the entire length, the panic hits you again.
“Let me go!” You scream, fighting against Neteyam’s hold, but hold is firm. “It won’t fit! You can’t! It won’t fit!”
“That’s why we have to stretch you out first,” Neteyam mutters, mouth pressed against your shoulder. His third finger nudges at your entrance and you stop breathing when it pushes against your already stuffed hole. The stretch is intense, your small body struggling to take the invasion as his long finger pushes in beside the others. His thumb rubs lovingly at your clit, distracting you from the stretch and working up the pressure starting to build in your belly.
Lo’ak strokes at his cock, shuffling forward until the weeping tip of it is inches from your face.
“You wanna taste it?” He asks, his other hand gripping onto the bottom of your mask.
You whimper, terrified at the prospect of him pulling your mask off, but can’t get out anything more than a stuttering, “P-please,”
“Be a good girl and hold your breath for me,”
There’s a loud hiss of air as the seal around your face breaks, and then you can’t breathe. Can’t even make a sound when he pulls the mask halfway up your face to free your mouth, letting the bottom of it sit below your nose as he pushes his fingers into the hinges of your jaw to pry your mouth open.
The lavender tip of his cock pushes between your lips, the underside dragging along your tongue. You can feel every bump and ridge as it pushes in further, the texture both unusual and intimidating as it slides against the warm wet muscle.
And then it’s gone, your mask replaced and the burst of oxygen rushing into your lungs makes you feel even more lightheaded than without having any oxygen at all.
“Good girl,” Lo’ak coos, hand once again gripping the bottom of your mask and leaning down to press a sweet kiss against its glass.
Neteyam’s fingers are still working themselves in and out of your stuffed pussy, and you see Lo’ak’s ears twitch a second before you even hear it: the horrible squelching sounds your pussy is making as it rocks against his three fingers.
“Such a good girl,” He grins. He stands up, holding his cock steady and pulling your mask up again, the hiss of air mingling with the wet sounds coming from your drenched cunt. “Let’s go again,”
His cock pushes inside of your mouth again, barbed length sliding against your tongue and nudging the back of your throat. You gag, choking from both lack of oxygen and Lo’ak’s thick cock, and you can barely register the light and strangely sweet taste of his precum as it coats your tastebuds.
Neteyam’s fingers are ruthless inside of you, curling and dragging against your gummy walls with skilled expertise and his thumb is practically a blur on your clit. When Lo’ak replaces your mask and air once again fills your lungs, it's only there for a second before you’re screaming and gasping, the coil in your stomach almost too much to bear as it tightens, threatening to rip you apart when it snaps.
Your screaming is cut off again when Lo’ak lifts the mask away, shoving his cock harder and deeper into your mouth until the glass of your mask is pressing against his pelvis and his cock has slipped down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you take it, legs shaking against Neteyam’s thigh. When it's replaced this time and air is once again allowed into your lungs, Neteyam’s teeth latch onto your shoulder, sharp canines digging into the tender skin. The bite brings about a sharp pain immediately followed by a flood of intense pleasure - your body jerks in his hold, shaking violently as the coil in your belly snaps. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, gushing against his hand as your orgasm rips through you without mercy.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Lo’ak grunts, fisting his cock with one hand while checking to make sure your mask is secure with the other.
You mumble a weak reply, but the words don’t make sense, they don’t even sound like real words to your own ears - and your ‘not words’ turn into a forlorn whine as Neteyam pulls his fingers from your still pulsing pussy.
He tilts your upper body to the side, sliding most of you off of him except for your leg still draped over his thigh at the knee while your other foot presses onto the ground, leaving you spread wide. His free hand falls behind you, somewhere around his hip where you can’t see, and then something large and round shaped is nudging between your folds and prodding at your entrance.
“No,” You mewl. “Won’t fit,”
“Shh, be quiet, ma sevin tawtute,” He grunts, pressure pushing at your hole as he starts forwards. “It will fit,”
You take in gasping breaths as the pressure intensifies, dripping hole resisting the push as much as it can before relenting to the large male Na’vi’s wishes and the thick mushroom head of his cock pops inside. Neteyam groans when he breaches you, unwrapping his arm from your upper body and gripping both of your thighs with his large hands, hauling you up and in the air as he stands up.
Your back is pressed tightly against his chest, thighs spread open and vulnerable to Lo’ak’s hungry gaze as gravity pushes you down further on his brother’s cock. You whimper loudly, hands desperately gripping at Neteyam’s forearms as he impales you on him. The bumps on his cock drag without mercy against your sensitive walls, and your right leg shakes in his grip from the overwhelming intensity.
It feels so good, so devastatingly good inside of you, the barbs and ridges sliding just right against your gummy walls and you toss your head back with a silent scream as he bottoms out, tip nudging against your cervix.
You’ve never felt so full before. It feels like he’s all the way in your stomach, cock barreling through your important organs and rearranging your guts just to make enough room for him to fit. You chance a look down, letting out a wailing cry that’s half pleasure, half horror when you see the large bulge protruding from your abdomen.
“Fuck,” Neteyam moans. “She’s so tight,”
Lo’ak grins mischievously as Neteyam lowers his mouth to the side of your neck, pressing gentle kisses there as he starts to rock into you. One moment he’s in front of your face, sending you a cheeky wink when you gasp as the cock inside of you hits just the right angle to brush against your special spot, and then the next he’s crouching down, textured tongue lolling out of his mouth and licking against your swollen clit.
You squeal at the feeling of his rough tongue, textured similarly to that of a cat’s, lapping at the sensitive nub.
“T-too much!” You cry. You can’t close your legs, Neteyam’s hands holding them firmly open as he thrusts harder inside you, and your hands push against Lo’ak’s head, but he doesn’t budge - large head staying put while his tongue continues to swipe against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
When Lo’ak decides he’s had enough, he lifts his head, trailing kisses up your stomach starting just above the disappearing and reappearing bulge in your belly and up your chest, tongue laving over the swell of your breast and latching onto your nipple, sharp teeth nibbling on the hard bud as you yelp.
His lips wrap around it, suckling on it for a moment before pulling off with a pop.
“You taste so good, baby,” He murmurs, reaching down to play with your clit. “Like the sweetest little treat,”
“Feel so good, paskalin,” Neteyam grunts, lifting your body up and slamming it back down on his cock to fuck into your harder. “Snug little pussy squeezing me so well. You were made to take Na’vi cock, weren’t you?”
“Oohh my goooooood,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head from the overwhelming stimulation. “C-can’t t-take i-itt,”
“Sure you can,” Lo’ak teases, face so close to yours that in your haze all you can see is his bright golden eyes. “Didn’t you hear what he just said?”
Neteyam’s thrusts are getting sloppy, moans and grunts a constant source behind you, and he hisses a quick “Fuck, take her,” at his brother. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly pressed against Lo’ak, chest pressed tightly against his and Neteyam releases one of your thighs in favor of gripping your hip. Lo’ak’s hand cradles your released thigh instead, keeping you steady against him as his brother uses his new found leverage to pound into your tight cunt. Your arms instinctively wrap around Lo’ak’s neck, holding on for dear life as you moan and whimper loudly with the cool glass of your mask pressed against his collarbone.
You can feel the knot in your belly tightening again, and you can’t think about anything other than how impossibly full you feel and how good the ridges and bumps on his cock feel as they scrap and drag inside of you. Neteyam’s grip turns bruising, fingers digging into your hip and thigh as he fucks you harder.
“Who’s pussy is this?” Neteyam growls, mushroomed tip pounding into your cervix. “Go on, tawtute. Say it!”
“Neteyaaamm,” You moan. “Please, please, please,”
Distantly, even through your hazy, fucked out brain, you can feel something thick and round prodding at your entrance, bumping and stretching you out even more with each thrust. You cum, sobbing as you contract tightly around him, body shaking in Lo’ak’s hold as his large hand rubs up and down your back soothingly.
Neteyam pulls out of you with a tortured groan and your eyes flutter shut, pussy still contracting and squeezing and wanting - wanting his long, hard length inside of you again, wanting it splitting you open, and now that it's gone, you can’t believe how empty you feel.
Lo’ak lowers you gently to the ground, resting your exhausted body on the soft moss. You feel the way he pulls your thighs apart again, settling himself between them, what’s left of the setting sunlight filtering in behind your eyelids getting blocked as he hovers over you.
“Stay awake, vrrtep,” He says, smacking your thigh lightly to wake you back up. Your heavy eyes peel themselves open, watching as Lo’ak braces one hand above your head while the other guides his cock to your core. You whimper as he drags the head of his cock through your dripping folds, teasing the tip against your clit before running it down your slit and lining it up with your entrance. “It’s my turn,”
The slide is easier this time as he pushes in, but still no less intense. Your tired and overstimulated body tenses at the intrusion, tightening around him as he spears you open with his thick girth.
“Such a pretty demon,” He moans, pleasure shooting through his veins at the feel of your tiny body hugging his cock like it never wants to let him go. “Tempting us the way you did,”
His hips start up a gentle tempo, rocking inside you to help you get used to his size and letting you feel the pleasurable drag of his barbs against your oversensitive walls.
You whine, denying his comment. “D-didn’t do anyth–”
He silences you with a sharp snap of his hips, upping the rhythm of his thrusts and leaning down further so his pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust. Already you can feel another orgasm barreling towards you, threatening to rip you apart the same way his cock is splitting you open.
“Fuck!” You squeal, back arching as your pussy squelches between your bodies. “Oh my god, fuck!”
“Say my name, baby,” Lo’ak grunts. “Wanna hear you moan it,”
“Looo’aaaaak,” You moan, bliss clouding your judgment as your hips buck into his in return.
Out of the corner of your eye you see Neteyam, standing just to the side, watching as his brother fucks your very soul from your body as his hand strokes along his raging length. Your eyes catch on something unusual towards the base of his cock - a thick, round bulb that shouldn’t be there and he smirks as he sees you gaping at it, hand stroking down to the base and squeezing the thick engorged knot of tissue tightly, moaning at the sensation.
Lo’ak thrusts in you harder and you feel that same thick, round ball bumping at your entrance that you felt when Neteyam was fucking you. The same bulbish ball of tissue that must be the same as the one you're looking at right now.
“Great Mother,” Lo’ak groans, face scrunched up in pleasure. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad,”
“Don’t,” Neteyam growls, jerking forward as if to pull his brother away from you, but Lo’ak curls his body around yours protectively, a deep hiss of warning ripping from his throat as he bares his teeth at his brother.
Neteyam freezes, hands up in surrender but he glares at the brother inside you all the same. “Don’t. We don’t know if her body can take it yet.”
Lo’ak grunts, resuming his thrusts. “I know. Just back off,”
His cock pounds you relentlessly, kissing your cervix and his hand reaches down to caress the bulge in your belly. He presses down on the bulging bump firmly at the same time that his teeth sink into the still unmarked side of your neck, making you scream, the blissful agonized cry echoing through the forest as you cream all over his cock.
He pulls out, groaning woefully like his brother did, and fists his cock furiously, aiming the leaking tip directly at your puffy, spent pussy. Neteyam does the same, crouching low and close, stroking his cock beside you as he aims for your chest.
They cum within seconds of one another, shooting hot, thick stripes of pearly bioluminescent cum all over your body, covering your chest and lower half with their release.
You can barely feel your body anymore, can’t move a single limb on your own, and, despite not having any use of anything, your body won’t stop shaking - oversensitive and overstimulated and completely satisfied in a way you never thought you could be.
“Ready to head home, sevin tawtute?” Neteyam asks, breathing heavy as he recovers from his orgasm. He just came but his eyes are still dark and sinful, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Your exhausted eyes flick to Lo’ak only to see the same desirous expression.
There’s a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach as you close your eyes, listening to their dark chuckles as your body forces you to rest. The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is a low, deep voice say . . .
“You’re ours now,”
Extra>>>
**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!
Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife
#lunaskinktober2023#neteyam x female reader#neteyam x reader smut#neteyam smut#neteyam x reader#neteyam x human reader#lo'ak x female reader#lo'ak x reader#lo'ak smut#lo'ak x human reader#neteyam x reader x lo'ak#tw: noncon#tw: dubcon#tw: dubious consent#tw: non con
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The Bet
Steph - …
Jason - …
Steph - Truth or Dare?
Jason - oh fuckin finally something to do , erm … dare
Steph - I dare you to be nice to everyone for 24 hours
Jason - Easy
Steph- No snarky comments
Jason - less easy but still doable
Steph - or backhanded compliments
Jason - oh
Steph - no insults either
Jason - wait a sec…
Steph- AND you can’t leave the manor or force people to leave
Jason - ah fuck , nah i got this
Steph - and if you fail , you can’t eat Alfred’s cooking for a month and you have to say i’m better than you BUT if you prevail , i have to say that YOURE better than me … Deal?
Jason - you’re on blondie
——— Jason wonders off to get something to eat and sees Tim practising anime moves in the mirror ———
Jason - … nope , too tempting
—— Jason passes Dick’s room to see him dancing to ABBA in a Wonder Woman halloween costume ——
Jason - i’m fucked
——— Jason makes it to the kitchen and makes himself lunch , Bruce comes to sit down next to him . Jason sees that Bruce is making the ‘Parentface‘ while scrolling on his phone with his index finger
Jason - oh i’m gonna die
Bruce confused - ?!?
——— Jason walks to the door and opens it to see Steph standing there ———
Steph - Whatcha Doin?
Jason - Nothing , i er … i was just getting some fresh air
Steph - sure , i’ll let you quit if you say i’m better than you
Jason backing off - i walked from Ra’s Compound to Gotham City , i can do this and youll never hear that outta my fucking mouth
Steph shouting - YOU DIDNT SAY I WASNT BETTER THAN YOU
——— Jason panicking and sees Duke walking into his room ———
Jason - DUKE
Duke jumping out of his skin - PLEASE DONT HURT ME IM JUST A BOY
Jason - oh thank god , i’m not gonna hurt ya but you gotta help me
Duke befuddled - oh…kay
Jason - i made a bet with Steoh that i could be nice to everyone for the rest of the day
Duke - why? , why would you do that , you can’t go 10 mins without an insult
Jason - i’ve lasted 3 hours so far , and i have 2 hours left but Damian , Babs , Cass and harper are gonna and home soon
Duke - so?
Jason - SO , they’re getting back from the KISS concert
Duke - oh
Jason - yeah fucking oh
Duke - Damian went to a KISS concert?
Jason - he lost a bet to Steph too
Duke - gosh… she’s a menace
— Damian , Babs , Cass and Harper come home —
Jason - … their here
Duke - you have to go downstairs
Jason - i’m scared
Duke - it’s okay , it’s just saying “ you’re better than me steph “
Steph from the vents - thank you duke
Duke terrified - AHHH WHAT THE FRICK
Jason pointing up - she’s in the fuckin vent dude
—— Jason wonders off to the library but hears ——
Cass - Jay!
Jason pretending to be invisible - …
Cass - Jay , the concert was so cool
Harper - yeah it’s was fuckin fun
Babs - even Damian was head banging
Damian - it was a fun activity , the outfits and face paint were a bit much
Jason physically recoils - ….
Harper - makeup
Damian - what did you just say Row
Harper - make-up , it’s makeup
Damian - you’re lying
Babs - she isn’t , technically it’s Bruce’s eyeshadow for patrol
Damian - i’m going to kill you Row
——— Damian stumbles over in his platforms ———
Jason - I CANT FUCKIN DO THIS MAN!!!
Everyone - huh?
Jason turning around slowly - i can’t be nice c not even for 7 stupid fuckin hours… STEPH YOU FUCKIN WIN ALRIGHT , JUST LET ME OUT OF THIS CURSE
Steph dropping down from the ceiling - if you want this to stop , you know what to say
Jason - ah fuck … Steph?
Steph with a shit eating grin on her face - yes?
Jason - you’re better than me
Steph - That was very nice Jason
Jason - so i don’t have to be nice anymore
Steph - pretty much
Jason - oh thank god
———————Jason takes a deep breath——————
Jason - Dick , that wonder woman costume is extremely unflattering and makes you look flatter than Stephs hair in the morning and you can’t sing at all
Dick and Steph - Hey!?!
Jason - Bruce ; you are the crypt keeper and the fact you can stand up without crumbling into a pile of dust is beyond me
Bruce - Watch it
Jason - Tim , pretend and try as you might , you’ll never be Goku and it’s ridiculous that you keep trying , you are a subpar power ranger at best
Tim - harsh but needed
Jason - and now you four , you all look like bruce’s first draft of his batsuit , and Damian , even in platforms you are only 4ft tall AT BEST
Damian - Watch your Tongue Todd
Jason at Harper- this is the first time you’ve ever been able to convince somebody of something because you fuckin suck at lying and it’s embarrassing to watch
Harper - Damn
Jason - Babs… Red hair doesn’t suit you
Babs - Say that again and see what happens jackass
Jason - and finally … Cass
Cass - :)
Jason - yeah i got nothing … phew i didn’t think i could go on much longer
Everyone - Hungry ?
Everyone replying - Yes?
Alfred - Dinners Ready!
Jason - fuck yeah
Steph - whoa whoa , where do you think you’re going?
Jason- to eat?
Steph - did you last until midnight with out being a dick?
Jason - oh no! , no! , no please don’t do this
Steph - Goodbye Jason
Jason falling to his knees like Darth Vader - NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
#dc comics#comics#batfamily#bruce wayne#batman#dick grayson#nightwing#barbara gordon#batgirl#oracle#jason todd#red hood#tim drake#red robin#stephanie brown#the spoiler#duke thomas#the signal#cassandra cain#black bat#damian wayne#robin#harper row#bluebird#alfred pennyworth#batfam
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Hey! I was wondering if you could do more nsfw for hisoka as I do be a hoe for that clown 😌💅🏻✨ love your writing!
🃏 character, fandom, type of reader: hisoka morrow, hunterxhunter, woman reader.
🃏 genre, rating: nsfw, 18+ only.
🃏 themes, triggers: explicit dirty talk, explicit descriptions, slight humiliation and degradation, oral ( m receiving ), choking, dominant themes, description of ahegao, hisoka tying you up with his bungee gum.
🃏 author’s note: did you know bungee gum has the properties of both rubber and gum ? anyways ⭕💢⭕💢 this is very filthy, i didn’t know that was possible considering my sebastian drabble is also very intense. but yeah... please don’t read it around other people. i hope you enjoy !
the heaven’s area was overflowing with participants and viewers as expected given that hisoka was the headliner for tonight’s match. the magician had invited you to sit in the audience but you decided to stay in the suite and give him something to return to. failing to watch the match on television you decided to keep yourself company with a night of pampering. you’d brought along your luggage as you expected to stay there for a few nights. opening the luggage you rummaged through the sets of spare clothing and dug deep within to retrieve your dust bag. the dust bag held a new set of lingerie that hisoka had yet to tear off your body. it was a brand new set you’d purchased while in yorknew city; you’d made sure to go alone it was meant to be a surprise for hisoka. or a reward for his win tonight.
the lace set was a deep shade of crimson red. with the bow right between your cleavage the main character of the piece was the matching choker that attached to the bralette. the cosmetics on your complexion were kept simple except for a glossed lip and a heavy application of mascara; he enjoyed the glossy lips around his --- and how your mascara ran when you choked on his --- . all that was left was to wait for his arrival; surely it wouldn’t take more than an an hour --- maybe two. nobody had ever lasted longer than that. as you waited you covered your figure in a silk robe that fell down to your ankles. it concealed your treat for him entirely making his present that much more of a surprise.
waiting for his arrival was much more gruesome than you had anticipated it to be. you waited for him eagerly and while you did the images of your past rendezvous occupied your consciousnesses. how his hands grabbed you, how his lips left marks in the naughtiest of places, and how great his fingers felt when they touched where you needed him most. almost lost in a trance you hadn’t heard him open the door. sitting on the couch you looked over your shoulder and watched him enter. with nothing more than a scar on his cheek, he was unharmed.
“easy win.” you noted.
hisoka chuckled. “easiest.”
he approached you for a hug but you dismissed him.
“no, shower first.”
hisoka pouted and took a step closer. you dismissed him once more and he dragged his heeled shoes into the bathroom. once you heard the water run, you made your way into the master bedroom. you undid your robe just enough to expose the top of your cleavage and when you sat upright on the bed your legs were exposed. the sound of the water running had come to a stop. hisoka exited the bathroom and a wind of steam swept out of the door. you were then greeted by hisoka’s masculine figure. his towering height consumed the door frame and his toned muscles were still slightly damp from his shower only seconds ago. he ran a towel through his hair and threw it elsewhere. meanwhile a towel was still wrapped around his hips. it hung low enough for you to see the v that led to what was hidden underneath the towel.
he looked at you laying on the bed and licked his lips.
“ah, a present for me?”
“only if you’re a good boy.”
hisoka approached you with lust filled eyes. the dominant role in the bedroom was shared between you two but it was always obvious what role hisoka wanted to play. given that the adrenaline was still fresh in his veins from his fight, he surely wasn’t in the submissive mood. noticing the look in his eye and the power in his step, you closed your legs. he was going to be the one in control, not you.
“y/n.” he started. his voice was deep, gruff. you swallowed the lump in your throat in an attempt to hide your eagerness. you wanted him.
“merely seconds ago you were speaking to me with such disrespect.”
he grabbed one of your legs. just from that touch a bolt of adrenaline shot through your veins.
“now you’re acting shy?” he grabbed your leg and tore it from the other. “why is a slut like you acting so shy?” he clicked his tongue.
his eyes were exploring your body but with the pull of your leg he was able to see the thin lace that covered your petals. hisoka let go of your leg and stood straight. his eyes looked down at you on the bed.
“take off your robe.”
your hands came up to the ribbon that held your robe together. you undid the neat bow and opened it entirely. you revealed the new set to hisoka. you could see the outline of his length on the towel he wore.
“do you like it?” you asked him innocently.
with the tip of his sharp fingernail he ran it up your abdomen. hisoka trailed it all the way up between your breast then up to the collar you wore. the feeling of his fingertip running up your body sent a shiver down your spine.
“i adore it.”
he hooked his finger underneath the collar and used it to drag you up from the bed you laid upon. as he did you heard the threads of the collar pull apart. only holding your neck for just a moment, hisoka grabbed your cheeks and held them firmly.
“should i reward you... or should i punish you?”
“punish me!?” you managed to choke out. he held your cheeks tighter preventing you from speaking.
“yes. punish you. for acting like such a whore. and because of your talk-back, i guess i will settle for punishing you.”
hisoka let go of your cheeks and removed his robe. his cock was already hard, throbbing at the sight of you. the tip of his head was red and glistening with precum. you looked at his impressive length, how big it was for you, how it felt so good inside you.
“on your knees, y/n. put my cock in your mouth and suck me off like a good girl, okay?”
within seconds you were on your knees. reached your hands up to touch his length but hisoka was quick to slap them away.
“no, just your mouth --- put your hands behind your back.”
you did as instructed and with a just the tip of hisoka’s finger he conjured his bungee gum. the material tied around your wrists ensuring that your hands remained behind your back.
“just in case.” he said with a wink.
before you could say anything in response, hisoka placed his cock inside your mouth. not giving you any time to adjust to his massive length, your jaw unhinged. a pool of saliva began to form on the underside of his cock and dripped to the floor. the sight of made hisoka’s cock twitch in your mouth. he thrusted his hips forward the saltiness of his precum had coated the back of your mouth.
“are you going to make me do all of the work?” he asked between a thrust. “i told you to suck me off, cocksleeve.”
with tears building up in the rim of your eyes you hollowed your cheeks and began to bob your head in a rhythmic pattern. a sound of wet sloshing and gagging filled up the bedroom, music to hisoka’s ears.
“such a good girl.” he praised you.
before you could strengthen your speed hisoka had undid his bungee gum and took a step backward; just far enough for the tip of his cock to rest on your lips.
“crawl towards me. beg for my cock in your mouth. you dirty fucking whore.”
catching a breath in your lungs you nearly whimpered. “h-hisoka please.” you crawled closer to his cock. but before you could place it into your mouth once more he took another step backward, then another. the wall behind you stopped him. he successfully made you crawl across the room drooling for his throbbing, red cock.
he laughed at the sight of you on the floor. hisoka clicked his tongue.
“my, my. if only everyone could see you. so hungry for my cock. tell me how badly you want it.” as he spoke he held his cock firmly in his hands. he stroked his cock in his hands with his eyes on you the entire time.
you sat on your knees and looked up at him. your mascara had run down your cheeks and your mouth was wet from your own saliva and his cum. you licked your lips, tasting his juices on you.
“hisoka --- ”
he just adored it when you said his name. it outweighed any title you gave him. daddy, sir, master --- nothing compared to when you said his name. he threw his head back the speed of his stroking quickened. he began to moan and it upset you knowing that you weren’t the one causing him to do it. quickly you finished your sentence,
“i want your cock. i want your throbbing hard cock --- please.”
“and where do you want it, my love?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.
“anywhere!” you cried out. “please. i’m so wet for you hisoka. i need you.”
“stand up.”
with your legs shaking somehow stood up in front of him. you held your thighs tightly together in order to feel some release of pleasure in your petals. hisoka let go of his cock and showed you his palm that was wet with his juices.
“clean it up.”
you held his wrist and dragged your tongue up his palm and licked through his fingertips moaning while doing so. hisoka whimpered at the lewd sight, completely transfixed by how easily you were following his command. he was mumbling praises mixed with curses. he was just as eager as you therefore you knew the prize you were waiting for was close ahead.
you cleaned his hand dry hisoka grabbed a hold of your waist and spun you around to press against the wall instead. finally, he kissed you. the open mouth kiss had the two of you wrestling your tongues. beads of saliva were falling down your lips and his own. you had opened your legs enough to feel his cock against your clothed clit. you brought your hand down to grasp your fingers around his length. hisoka was quick to remove your hand.
“you were being so good. being so obedient. i didn’t give you permission to touch my cock.”
“i’m --- i’m sorry.” you cried out. your mouth was only inches from his. eager for another kiss he prevented you from placing another.
“put your hands over your head.”
he tied your hands with bungee gum almost immediately. your body was completely at his disposable. he could leave you or he could fuck you and you weren’t sure which he was going to choose. your legs were shaking as your clit was so eager to be touched.
hisoka kissed you, “be a good girl.” you nodded your head.
his kisses trailed down and his hands began to unfasten the choker and bra it was connected to. your nipples were hardened from the intense pleasure you were experiencing. he took one nub into his mouth and the other between his fingers. his other hand was hovering over your clothed clit. he pressed his palm flat down on your clothed pussy.
“i don’t even need to take it off to know who wet you are.”
he greeted you with yet another kiss. was he going to make you beg again? unable to make out a word you hoped he wouldn’t. you hoped he would press his cock firmly inside you. without any bound or restraint.
hisoka had torn the fabric of your panties and threw it behind him. with his knee he spread your legs. he brought his kneecap up to brush against your clit. the fleeting touch caused you to shiver.
“what should i do with you?”
he asked grazing his kneecap against your clit once more. he was teasing you so painfully and you were too warped up in your own pleasure you couldn’t even stutter out a word. thankfully hisoka didn’t take too long with his teasing, he was just as eager as you --- remember ?
he took one of your legs and held it high enough for your pussy to be fully exposed to him. he brushed the tip of his cock against your folds and you cried out his name.
“hisoka! please. oh my god ---please!”
“yes. i know.” he said in a teasing voice.
and with that he pressed his cock inside of you. your hands that were tied above you formed into small fists and such a lewd sound left your lips, you were shocked that you carried a sound like that within your chest.
“you’re so wet you welcomed me in --- but not all the way.” holding your leg slightly higher hisoka now had his cock fully within you. with a full feeling in your stomach, you felt the tip of his cock hit your g-spot. an audible gasp following by a choking noise left your lips.
“so cute!” he praised. you were a mumbling moaning mess, unable to respond to his praises let alone decipher his words. you were in a blinding state of euphoria. so much so that your eyes rolled in the back of your head and your tongue stuck out at him. hisoka moaned loudly at the sight. his lewd noises only made you clench around his cock.
he was thrusting at an intense speed. with one hand balancing your leg up the other was sloppily rubbing your clit. his movements were jagged, rough. he was close to his peak and you weren’t too far behind. hisoka was done with his restless teasing and was dedicated on helping you reach your peak while he was reaching his own.
“should i cum in that dirty little pussy? or on that pretty little face?” hisoka was asking you a question but you could barely answer. he giggled between a moan and thrust. “oh y/n --- oh fuck y/n, you’re so cute.” he was moaning heavily and his thrusts were moving at an erratic pace.
never the type to tell you when he was cumming, he released inside you without warning. his thick cum was spurting out from your pussy and mixing with your own juices. the throbbing feeling of his release was enough for you to finally reach your own peak. you threw your head back and it hit harshly against the wall behind you. the pain flew past you, you were too busy experiencing the orgasm tearing through your stomach and up your veins. your closed eyes began to twitch and your legs were shaking uncontrollably.
without your knowledge hisoka undid his bungee gum. he let go of your leg and caught your weak figure in his arms. with the feeling of his cock still inside you, you whined a bit when he removed himself. with your head heavy on his chest, hisoka lifted you up from the floor. your legs wrapped around his hips as he carried you back onto the bed.
he laid you flat on the sheets he laid right beside you. his hand reached forward to move the strands of sweat-stuck hair on your forehead. eventually that same hand ran down lower. he touched your pussy that was still dripping the remnants of his cum.
he connected your lips with his. this time the kisses were softer; filled with thank yous and love.
“we made a mess.”
he moved his figure to hover above yours. your head followed his movement.
“should i start to clean it up?”
through half lidded eyes, you nodded eagerly --- waiting for your night of pleasure to unfold.
#hisoka x reader#hisoka morrow x reader#hisoka smut#hisoka x y/n#hxh hisoka#hxh smut#hxh imagines#nsfw.#hm.#tm.#Anonymous
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Desperate
pairing || Javier Peña x fem!Reader
summary || It’s been far too long, and you both need to let off some steam.
word count || 6,219
warnings || !!SMUT!! (unsafe sex, dom/sub vibes, innocence kink, fingering, p in v sex, dom!Javier, slight mocking/degradation, overstimulation, some spanking, multiple orgasms, creampie, “beg for it”, egregious use of ‘princesa’ and ‘good girl’ bc I’m a glutton, Javi loves feeling powerful okay), ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION
a/n || I’m amazed at how long this took, but I wanted this to be perfect. I hope my fellow Javi hoes enjoy
Main Masterlist | Join the taglist!
It had been weeks since you were able to go out with Javier and spend the night drinking and having a good time. You didn’t blame him, of course. Work was busy for the both of you and you had barely seen each other outside of curling up in bed together at the end of the day. It wasn’t something you had expected, the first time he wrapped his arms around you in bed and fell right asleep. Falling asleep together without at least one round of exhausting sex was unheard of - until it wasn’t. Until it was a rarity for you to fall asleep alone, sex or no sex, and you were craving the feeling of his breath at you neck just as much as you were craving the feeling of his hand sliding under the hem of your underwear. Neither of you said anything about it, too afraid to break the delicate trance of happiness that had enveloped your lives.
Steve had insisted for Javier to bring you to the club with him and Connie, worried that if everyone didn’t let off some steam soon, they would end up at each other’s throats. Steve wasn’t wrong, either. As suddenly and surprisingly sweet the last few weeks had been, all work and no play left Javi a very pent up man, so you accepted enthusiastically when he called you before leaving the office. You were a whirlwind in your apartment as you tried to beat the clock to get ready before your lover arrived, clothes yanked from their neatly organized places as you searched for a very specific dress. One you knew would make Javier lose his mind.
There was no knock at your door when Javi arrived. He simply walked in, something he had done since the very beginning of your little...whatever the hell this was. It was something he loved about you, that you left the door unlocked when you knew he would be on his way. So trusting in him. At first it had made him beyond nervous. What if someone managed to get there before he did, had the luck to try your door one of the few times it wasn’t secure? Why the fuck did you trust him so much? But over time, the worries melted into something soft and appreciative that warmed his chest and scared him even more.
There really was no winning with Javier sometimes.
But he couldn’t even keep that train of thought when he pushed your bedroom door open and saw you bent over to dig through the bottom drawer of your dresser, only in a bra and pair of panties that made his mouth water. So much bare skin, all for him to look at and greedily touch however he wanted. The surprised gasp you gave when Javier’s hand slid down your lower back to grab at the globe of your ass made him smirk, even when you spun around and smacked at his chest with a playful glare.
“God, Javi! You’re lucky I didn’t punch you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed up on your tiptoes to kiss him, grinning when he yanked you closer to bring you firmly against his chest. He watched as the momentary fear of his abrupt arrival melted away into something soft and happy, and it tugged at his chest. “I’ll be ready in just a second, okay?”
Javi hummed at you in acknowledgement but didn’t let go until you squirmed out of his grip and ushered him out the bedroom door. He would never admit it, but he pouted in the living room while he waited for you. He wanted to watch you get dressed. There really wasn’t a better sight than watching you shimmy into a pair of ridiculously tight jeans.
Watching you emerge from your room in a tight black dress was a close fuckin’ second, though. The muscle in his jaw ticked, his teeth clenched, and to anyone else he probably looked pissed. You knew him too well, though. He was just trying to convince himself not to tear it off of you and fuck you right on the floor in the living room. The harsh exhale that left him when you teasingly beckoned him to follow you towards your door told you that you were in for a long night.
Javier kept at least one hand on you the entire time - through the cab ride, as you waited at the bar for your drinks, even when you slid into a booth with Connie and Steve. It was grounding for the both of you. Javier made you feel safe, just the simplicity of a hand on your thigh or an arm draped over your shoulder. The feeling of your skin helped Javier stay in the moment, kept him from drifting into the mindset of Agent Peña, who would be beyond on edge with all of the people and noise.
“One more shot, and I bet you’ll be able to convince him to dance with you.” Connie grinned conspiratorially, nodding to where Javi was making his way through the crowd with a tray of shots.
“Oh, I could get him to dance with me stone cold sober. Doesn’t take much convincing either.” You said with a small wink and Connie laughed at the way Steve crinkled his nose.
“Yeah, I do not need to see that.” Steve stood and offered Connie his hand with a wag of his eyebrows, leaving you at the table just as Javi set down the drinks. He watched them disappear onto the dancefloor before turning those pretty eyes on you.
“The hell was that about?” Javi grumbled as he handed you one of the shot glasses. He was about to take his own when you leaned forward to speak into his ear, balancing yourself with a hand against his chest.
“They didn’t want to see me all over you.” You spoke low, letting a teasing lilt take over your tone, before you took your shot and sighed harshly at the burn of whiskey. Javi froze in front of you, that hungry glint in his eyes that you absolutely adored, shot glass still hovering at his lips. “Gonna take your shot before or after you get your hands on me?”
The whiskey was tipped back into his mouth before he slammed the glass onto the table so hard you worried he had broken it. You didn’t get the chance to see if he actually did before Javier dragged you away from the table and the only thing you could think about were those strong hands at your waist.
Dancing with Javier always left you breathless. Not from the actual dancing, but from him. The man could make the entire universe shrink to just him and the way he moved against you, the sway of his hips and ease with which he moved your body however he wanted. It was moments like these that reminded you exactly who it was you were messing with. Javier Peña could take whatever he wanted from you. He would only do that if you explicitly told him to, of course, but feeling the flex of his biceps as he curled his arms around your body, the strength in his hands as he grabbed a handful of your ass… it left you yearning.
Anticipation danced down your spine with every graze of his skin against yours, every sharp bite he gave to your neck and shoulders, every grind of his hips against your ass. You turned to face him, winding your arms around his neck to drag him down close enough to almost kiss him. He was expecting you to, you could tell by the way his lips parted and the slight pout of his bottom lip when you didn’t give him what he wanted. Instead, you pressed your forehead to his and drank him in; his eyes were hooded, glazed slightly with alcohol and lust, his curls slightly damp with sweat, chest rolling with each breath. The top buttons of his dress shirt were undone and mischief danced through your veins when you leaned down to press a kiss to his neck and then bite his collarbone just a smidge harder than necessary.
Javi hissed and yanked you back with a fist wrapped in your hair - not exactly something you weren’t used to from your lover. His teeth were bared slightly as he took in your prone form. There was nothing he loved more than seeing you so… obedient for him, even when you were using that mouth of yours in ways he didn’t approve of. He tutted at you, slowly turning your head from side to side as if he was amused by his control over you.
“Careful, princesa.” Javi rasped in your ear. The low tone of his voice made you want to melt right there on the filthy club floor. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
He was expecting a retort, something eloquent and teasing perhaps. You knew this, somewhere in the back of your mind, but all you could think about was the controlling grip he had against your head. Heat and tension began coiling tighter in your belly and any intent to be a tease fell away into need.
“Please,” It came out on an airy exhale, barely audible over the music and raucous sounds of partying. Your lover tilted his head at you, eyebrows drawn together in confusion as if he didn’t understand you, so you licked your lips and tried again. “Javi, please.”
“You’ll be a good girl for me tonight, hm?” Javi’s eyes went slightly darker when you nodded at him and he let go of your hair, smoothing his palm over the back of your head. “I’ll tell Murphy we’re leaving. Stay right here.”
With a kiss to your forehead, Javier stepped away from you and disappeared to find his partner and it was as if the world snapped back into place. His presence was all consuming and the moment he would leave it was like the rest of the universe came back into existence, still fuzzy around the edges from his intensity. Having all of that energy focused on you? It was better than any alcohol, any drug.
The entire cab ride to Javier’s apartment was tense and you wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the wind, rip off your seatbelt, and climb into Javier’s lap, but the firm hand on your thigh kept you in place. You almost did exactly that when he let go, but the sight of those talented fingers rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt had your brain short-circuiting. The combination of already being tipsy and Javi’s innate ability to make you horny beyond reason left you dizzy. Javi smirked at the way your lips parted as he slowly exposed his forearms but the teasing words at the tip of his tongue disappeared at the gentle way you touched his inner wrist. Your fingers trailed up into his palm, so soft that it almost tickled, and then flipped his hand in yours to feel the ridges of his knuckles and tendons. So fucking reverent when you looked at him. It lit a fire in his veins.
“You have nice hands.” You said it out of nowhere and Javi frowned, about to ask you what the hell that even meant, but the cab lurched to a stop outside his apartment building. The fire in your eyes returned as if it had never left - it was enough to have him tossing the cabbie his money and dragging you along with him.
A loud bang echoed through his apartment when Javier burst through the door, rushing in backwards just far enough to get the door closed and shove you against it. The air was forced out of you at the impact, but it wasn’t as if you could really catch your breath with his mouth fused against yours to begin with. Javier tapped your thighs and you automatically hopped up, letting him hitch your thighs around his waist and brace your weight against the door. The hard edges of the door bit into your back, sure to leave red marks that Javi would marvel at once the need to bury into each other was sated.
“This...fucking dress.” Javier growled against your lips before he leaned away just enough to glare down at your cleavage and curves as if he were infuriated. You knew better, knew that the heat in his glare was hunger, not anger. His hand groped and massaged at your thighs and ass with a fervor that made you feel beyond desired - every touch was desperate, like he would implode without it. “Get your ass upstairs. I want you on the bed by the time I get up there.”
You shuddered in anticipation as he set you down on your feet, the sharp smack he gave your thigh ushering you towards his bedroom. Before you rounded the corner, Javi called out your name and when you turned to look at him… the man always looked handsome, but in the low light, sleeves rolled up, shirt half unbuttoned and untucked from his slacks, the bulge of his cock against his zipper… he was magnificent.
“Naked.”
You smirked. “Yes, sir.”
You fled to his room before Javier could storm over and snatch you up. That pert little phrase always seemed to make him rougher, needier, and that was just what you were craving from him. You stripped as you went, leaving your heels and dress in the hallway and dropping your lacy underwear right in front of the door. Wasting no time, you crawled up into the center of his bed, tucking your legs off to the side and propping yourself up with one arm. A simple way to pose yourself, accentuating the curve of your hips. Chills washed over your skin in the cool air, but you would be warmed up soon enough. Javi wouldn’t be able to resist such a pretty display for him. Down the hall, you saw the light flick on in the bathroom and could hear the sound of the faucet running, and you couldn’t help but smile knowing that even in his tipsy state, he was washing his hands before he came to fuck you within an inch of your life.
He meandered through the hallway, feigning disinterest as he looked down at the lace at his feet before meeting your eyes, one eyebrow raised. It was the sweet smile you gave him that made him break, the tiniest upward curve to his lips as he made his way to you. Javi intended to kiss you, to have a full on teenage makeout session before he even began exploring the familiarity of your body. It was one of his favorite things after all - the way you would grind against him, the sweet sounds he pulled from your body, the spit-slick and slightly swollen lips - but when he trailed the back of his fingers down your calf, something in him snapped.
A surprised laugh echoed through the bedroom when Javier yanked you onto your back and pulled you right to the edge of the bed, using the hand at your ankle to spread your legs wide for him. Bashfulness bloomed on your face at the sudden exposure, and paired with the way Javier’s sharp gaze watched your every move, every rise and fall of your chest, every tiny twitch of your hips, you felt the heady rush of vulnerability and trust that you could only ever get from Javi.
“Don’t pretend to be shy.” Javier muttered as he fixed his gaze on your core, his nostrils flaring as he took in just how wet and swollen you were for him. All for him. His thumb rubbed at your inner thigh, trailing closer and closer to the one place you needed him to touch, excitement dancing along your skin, and he smirked at the needy cant of your hips. “We both know you want this…”
A plea was at the tip of your tongue, ready to tempt him into giving you what you want, but it was all for naught the moment he slid his fingers through your cunt to tease at your clit. Your eyes slammed shut the moment you felt those calloused fingertips zero in and start to rub in slow circles, your back arching as you gasped out Javi’s name.
“Good girl,” Javier immediately rewarded you by sliding a finger into your wet cunt, reveling in the low whine it drew from you. His other hand palmed your breast possessively, talented fingers tweaking your nipple until you cried out louder for him, a hot shock of pride rocketing through Javi’s chest. You always sound so pretty for him. He wasted no time in setting a steady rhythm, curling his finger on each thrust just to watch the way your jaw dropped open and eyebrows furrowed. You always look so pretty for him, too.
Javier leaned over you to study your face as he used his thumb to rub your clit in time with the strokes he laid into that one spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids, and hell, he needed to see those eyes. You listened so perfectly for him when he told you to open your eyes, his voice low and commanding in that timbre that made you want to spend the rest of your life with him between your thighs. They almost fluttered shut again as Javier slid a second finger in next to the first and his other hand left your breast to grab your jaw in an almost painful grip, stopping the pleasurable roll of his fingers inside of you.
“Keep those pretty eyes open for me, hermosa.” Javi didn’t move again until you nodded as much as you could under his hand, but when he did, it wasn’t the gentle, rhythmic press from before. No, he fucked you with his fingers, curling his fingertips into your g-spot ruthlessly, and fuck, combined with the roll of his thumb over your clit, you were keening underneath him.
Tension tightened low in your belly, euphoria threatening to spill over your entire body and leave you shimmering in its aftermath, and fuck, wait, why was he slowing down?! Your disgruntled whining was muffled by his hand and you were so tempted to reach down between your legs and finish yourself off, but a move like that would leave you with an ass covered in red marks and trembling for release for hours. It was a little game Javi loved to play when he was feeling like a cocky little shit, but he had done this enough times for you to know how to get what you wanted from him. So instead, you gripped his wrist gently and repositioned his hand so you could draw his fingers into your mouth.
Curses muttered in Spanish were the only response you got, Javi’s dark eyes transfixed on the way you sucked his fingers while still giving him those sweet, innocent eyes. You never looked at anyone the way you looked at him - Javi spent enough time around you to know as much, and he fucking loved it. He felt special, important. Needed. There was nothing prettier than the sight of you writhing and needy beneath him.
He met each roll of your hips with steady thrusts, those talented hands wringing out gasps around his fingers. Never had you met a man who could bring you to the edge with a good finger fucking and just a few filthy praises, but then again, there were no men like Javier Peña, period. Your back arched, pressing you closer to your lover, your hand gripped his wrist tighter, the other tearing at the sheets. He was too fucking good at this, was going to send you over the edge before you could even get in a deep enough breath to warn him. It came out slurred, muddled around his fingers, a steady stream of ‘please, please, please,’ that made Javier groan low in his chest.
“Go on, baby. Cum for me, cum on my fingers.” was growled into your ear, followed by the sharp drag of teeth along your pulse and you shattered beneath him. The tension snapped and you couldn’t even moan, couldn’t cry out under the assault of his fingers riding you through your orgasm and holy fucking shit, there was no way this wouldn’t be the death of you.
Death by orgasm.
Put that on your gravestone.
Coming down from your high felt like being underwater, like the entire world was suspended around you, muffled and not entirely real. It was the drag of Javier’s fingertips up the soft flesh of your stomach, leaving a wet trail to cool on your skin, and the gentle roll of your nipple between his fingers that pulled you towards clarity. Javi’s voice was almost too low to hear over the aftermath of pleasure rushing through your ears as he murmured praise into your sweat-slick skin. He was still stood at the edge of the bed, chest heaving with each harsh breath as he watched you bask in the orgasm his talented fingers drew from you.
You sat up slowly, perched on the edge of the bed with Javier stood between between your open thighs - right where he belonged. The innocence of the gentle smile you gave him, the way your bottom lip was caught between your teeth… it made him want to tear you apart, break you down to your most base state and watch you try to find yourself all over again. The hand on your thigh squeezed lightly when you cupped the tent in his slacks, immediately followed by a hiss through clenched teeth at the expert roll of your wrist.
“Go on,” Javier was no less commanding when his voice was low and raspy. If anything it made you even more compelled to listen to him, to hang off of his every word and follow them to the letter just for the opportunity of being called his good girl again. That’s why you undid the button of his pants with deft fingers, biting back a groan at the sight of his cock bobbing free of its confines to stand proud against his belly, and you leaned forward to lick the slick beading at the tip. Your efforts to please him with your mouth were thwarted by a harsh pull at your hair and you gasped at the sudden pain, ready to whine and beg for him to fuck your mouth without holding back. It was the steeled resolve in his eyes that shut you up. “Later. Wanna bury myself in this pretty cunt.”
The filthiness of his words made you smirk as you got onto your knees and lowered your upper body to be flush with the sheets. If there was one position that made Javi go wild, it was this - the sight of you baring yourself to him, your pussy glistening in the low light, hips swaying slightly as if you were trying to lure him in…
A sharp smack against your ass made you jump in surprise, your surprised gasp morphing into a melodic, excited giggle that had a thrill shivering up Javier’s spine. You were so good to him. So good for him. Javier yanked his pants all the way down and kicked them away as if their very existence in that moment was an insult before he kneeled on the bed, pride flashing through his chest in a searing rush when you whined high in your throat, the tiny sound full of anticipation. He notched the head of his cock right at your entrance, rubbing the sensitive skin there for a heartbeat before thrusting into your wet heat.
Javier filled you in one sure, seemingly unending push forward that made you arch your back even more just to try to fit him, not stopping until his hips were pressed flush against your ass. The fluttering of your cunt around him was always overwhelming from the second he fucked into you, both of your bodies desperate to adjust to the intensity. Javi grinded down against you, teeth clenching at the sweet, intoxicated sounds he pulled from your body.
“Shh, shh, shh.” Javier soothed, his tone just barely teasing as he slid one hand over your hip in circles. “You know you can take it.”
You could only nod in response, your voice stolen by the stretch of his cock. Tremors were already beginning in your thighs from the sheer fullness but that first slow drag as he pulled back to slam into you had your entire body trembling. It was almost too much but somehow not enough all at once, your body keening for more but quivering at the very thought. Javi set about a pace that had your ass juggling with every thrust, shoving you further into the sheets and leaving you to writhe beneath his commanding grip.
The words you tried to get out fizzled out as quickly as they formed. They broke off in the middle and disappeared into the soft cotton you pressed your face further into, almost embarrassed by the sudden fleetingness of your ability to think properly. It was a talent seemingly only possessed by Javier. The grip on your hips where he used you as counterweight to thrust into you that would surely leave bruises, the bite of his short fingernails into the soft skin of your waist and thighs, the way he would grind down against your g-spot until you cried out for him… it was a spell only he could entangle you in.
Javier wasn’t any better. Muddled groans and praise fell from his lips like honey, dripped through you in a sweet, scorching reminder that this was you. You made him lose his mind, made that usually direct and to the point sense of control slip away into something base, instinctual, and absolutely fucking filthy. The thought alone would have been enough to have you writhing and desperate for another orgasm at those talented hands, but combined with the tight grip he had on your body and the eagerness in every thrust had you ready to beg.
And he could tell.
You were yanked up before you could even realize what was happening, the entire world spinning and losing meaning as he guided you up onto your knees. Your head fell back against his shoulder at the hot press of his chest to your back and fuck, Javier loved it. You were his, all for him, and the way you went absolutely limp at the rough way he pleasured you. He braced his forearm just beneath your breasts, the other hand kept you steady at your hip, and he fucked you. Reveled in the breathy moans that were better than any music to have blessed the earth. Drew his hips back just to snap them against you, pounded you with his cock just to hear the way it made you mewl for him. Gritted his teeth against the urge to spill himself right in the tightness of your cunt right then and there.
“Beg for it.” He commanded, the hand at your hip trailing down to tease at the curls above your sex, so close to giving you want you wanted. You keened against him, hips undulating in stuttered, needy rolls, still unable to force your lips to form a coherent thought. “Go on, princesa. Beg.”
“P-please, I… oh, fuck, please!” Your voice was barely recognizable, followed by a whine when Javier’s pace slowed.
“Please what?” Javier growled into your ear. You shuddered against him, a flash of annoyance at his little game making you reach behind you and bury your hand in his hair just a bit harsher than necessary. The delight you drew from the hiss that followed was short-lived. Javier bit you, that little shit, right on your shoulder in his own form of delicious revenge, the pleasure and pain sparking and morphing together in a heady haze.
“Fuck, please let me cum!” You bit out and fucking finally, Javier dipped his hand lower to swipe two fingers over your swollen clit in fast circles. A choked gasp was all you could manage, your once in tandem thrusts stuttering against the surety in which Javi fucked you.
The tension bordered on too much, hovered in that tricky space between pain and pleasure, your body still sensitive with your first orgasm. You lost yourself in the intensity of it all, the intensity of Javier’s fingers on your clit, of his dick buried inside of you as deep as he could go, of his teeth and tongue working over your neck and shoulder, and you broke. Your body went rigid against him, your orgasm ripping through your entire body like a tidal wave, crashing into you and tearing you apart.
The contrast between the way Javier gently settled you onto your back beneath him versus how hard he thrust back into you would’ve been funny if you hadn’t just came so hard your vision blacked out. This was his favorite way to look at you - eyes glazed over, mouth hung open, breasts jiggling with every push of his cock in your tight little cunt. He feels like a fucking god like this. Lording over you, controlling your body, your pleasure, your every move. Using you for his own release. Fucking you like he didn’t give a shit about you. And you just took it, moaned and whined and cried his name so beautifully, tried feebly to meet his thrusts despite being overstimulated and string out on his dick.
Something dark lurked in the back of Javier’s mind. You never faltered; you just gave and gave to him so freely. He was not a greedy man by nature, but you brought out something primal in him. The more you gave, the more he took. He wanted to see you writhing underneath him, begging him to stop, giving him those pretty wide eyes filled with tears and desperation. So he reached between your bodies and slipped his thumb over your clit.
You lurched forward, your entire body tensing and clenching, and Javier could have came right there at the feeling of your pussy fluttering around his cock. The haziness in your eyes sharpened into clarity, an almost fearful glint taking over them that only fueled Javi’s depravity. He couldn’t see them for long. The moment he began rolling your clit under his thumb, your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Javier bared his teeth at the sight.
“Javi,” You whimpered, grasping at his forearm. “I can’t.”
“You can.” The low timbre of Javier’s voice is what makes you finally focus on him and fuck, he looks so good like this - jaw clenched, the dark fire burning in his eyes ready to consume you whole. The very air about him shimmered with an imposing sense of authority. He snapped his hips against you, slow but deep and harsh, his cock shoving against your cervix almost too hard. “You can and you fucking will.”
Your thighs hitched further up Javier’s waist as you squirmed under the dual assault of his cock stretching you open, fucking you full, and his thumb torturing your already exhausted clit. He grabbed your jaw, surprisingly gentle given the circumstances, and steadied your lolling head.
“Look at me, sweetheart. Open your eyes.” Javi whispered, his voice strained with the effort. There was concern in those pretty brown eyes underneath the need. “Good girl. You remember your safe word, right?”
You nodded rapidly, your breath hitching with each sharp thrust. Javier stared down at you expectantly as if he were waiting for you to give in - but since when were you to turn down an orgasm at the hands of one Javier Peña? You drew your bottom lip between your teeth and the grip on his wrist tightened, your hips slowly rolling in time with his own.
“Make me cum, Javi.”
For half a second, Javier froze, his usually sharp and quick mind falling completely blank, and then something in him breaks. A growl ripped out of his chest and Javier had to bury his face in your neck. If he kept looking at your pretty face contorted in pleasure and pain, he would’ve been done for. Every sensation threatened to be the one that threw you over the edge. The rumble of his chest with each moan, the slick slide of his cock as he fucked you, the sharpness of his teeth against your neck, the magnificent torture of his fingers rolling your clit.
Your third orgasm was shorter than the others, but no less intense. The entire world collapsed in on itself, could have imploded around you and you couldn’t have noticed, not with the way Javier pulled another orgasm from your reluctant, exhausted body. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as you sunk down into that pleasant, hazy headspace and that was when Javi picked up his pace. It was devastating, your nails digging into his skin hard enough to make him hiss.
He ripped his hand away from your cunt and braced it on your hip as he chased his release in your body. It’s the exhausted pleas you whisper into his ear that has him finishing, burying himself to the hilt and filling you with his cum. Javier collapsed into you, chest to chest, his cock slowly softening inside of you. It took him a moment to realize that you were humming quietly. There was no particular melody, just happy, low humming like the purr of a content cat.
In those moments after, no matter how sore or tired you were, you felt alive, weightless. Like there was nothing else in the universe besides Javier’s weight pressing you into his mattress and the slick feeling of his cum leaking out around his cock. With a deep breath, Javier propped himself up on his elbow to look at you, subtly checking you over to make sure you were okay. The lazy smile you gave him made him grin at you, a light and undeniable happiness settling over him.
He pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, settling on his side with his head propped against his fist, and tilted your head towards him to get a good look at that pretty face - eyes half-lidded, lips red and kiss swollen, your skin sweaty and covered in his marks. The pull to kiss you was magnetic, undeniable. It was gentle, almost chaste if he hadn’t just fucked you within an inch of your life.
You absentmindedly trailed your fingers over the ridges in his spine, a simple touch that he had received time and time again from so many lovers that somehow felt like a completely new experience when it came from you. It made him feel loved, special. Safe.
And then it hit him, almost as hard and breathtaking as the time he caught a bullet in his vest right over his ribs, that he didn’t just love things about you. He didn’t just love the way you left your door unlocked for him. He didn’t just love the way you smiled at him when you would catch his eye after being apart. He didn’t just love the way you seemed to only have eyes for him. He didn’t just love the way you laughed at Steve’s antics, or the way the club lights danced in your eyes, or the way you anticipated his every move, every kiss, every thrust, every, every, every…
Javier Pena loved you.
All of those pieces and a thousand more that made you who you are. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once, because Javier Pena didn’t do love, but how could he help himself when you were… well, you. So filthy and sweet and fierce all wrapped up into one beautiful woman, all for him. All his. Staring up at him with those bright, happy eyes as if there wasn’t a place in the world you would rather be than in his bed.
And he was terrified. Of losing you, of scaring you off. Terrified that he could never be worthy of having a person like you. But more than that, he felt lucky. He felt loved and appreciated and cared for, and it was more intoxicating than the whiskey he downed at the club hours earlier.
“I love you.” It was barely above a whisper, his voice still rough, and his heart pounded in his chest so loud he was certain you could hear it. A small, insecure part of him expected you to be disgusted, or to laugh in his face at the very idea, but it was buried under the way you lit up for him even more and reached up to cup his cheek, your fingers rubbing through the stubble he had forgotten to take care of that morning.
“I know.” You whispered. Javi scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, but you could see the relief and affection in his eyes when you didn’t outright reject him. He was easier to read than he realized. “I love you, too.”
#javier peña x reader#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena x reader#narcos fanfic#narcos#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Eleven: Love - SMUT
Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person’s relationship with his son. You’ve heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You’ve felt his pain and anguish and you’ve never been able to relate to anything more. But things don’t come easy for you, and they certainly don’t come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].
Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, cunningless, tit play, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, food and drink mention, emotional because we’re nearing the end, a family being brought together and our favourite soft, sad dad loving his son and, well… you.
Word count: 4300>
REBLOGS APPRECIATED.
Masterlist
Previous - Chapter Eleven - Next
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Just entering Black Gold Cooperative again, when you thought the previous night would be your last, drew tears to your eyes. This extensive size office was the place you’d first journeyed too upon venturing to the world of man. The building meant more to you than you had first realised, and it held so many amazing memories of self discovery. Your eyes flicked between the velvet sofa where you had once slept on, and the plants that peppered each corner of the lobby. They were vibrant and filled with life, symbolic of new beginnings. Now, the only magic in the air was love. You could feel it, Maxwell could feel it, and from the way Alistair perked up as you sneaked up behind him, he could feel it too. Love truly was the most powerful thing.
Seeing the way Alistair ran into his father’s arms, and the way he squeezed Max so tight -- like he was afraid to let him go, was enough to make your heart melt into your chest. “Daddy! You’re back!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Did you win?” He asked, his dark brown eyes glittering with hope. Alistair tugged on Max’s dark blonde shaggy hair as he waited for a reply.
“Yeah buddy, I won,” Max chuckled breathlessly. With those two words of affirmation, Alistair burst into tears. You took a step back as you watched the interaction, sensing how high the emotion was. You knew that Max had waited for this day to come for a long time. “No no, don’t cry. You should be happy.” Max cooed apologetically, his eyes widening as he tried his hardest to comfort his son. You were no longer a Goddess, and you had been stripped of your powers, but you could still feel the compassion between them both. And it was beautiful.
“I am happy,” Alistair choked out in between sobs, pulling back to look at his father. Max wiped away Alistair’s tears and offered him a weak smile. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.” Alistair confessed, nuzzling his face into his father’s chest.
Max sniffed and pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead. “I’m going to redeem myself for everything, Ali. I know… I know I’ve done terrible things and made big mistakes, and I really am a pretty messed up loser but--”
“No,” Alistair cut him off, his tone chaste. “Daddy, you’re a winner. Thank you for fighting for me.”
“Always,” Maxwell hummed, picking up Alistair and cradling him in his arms. “Let’s go home.”
***
Maxwell drove, and Alistair insisted that you sit in the back of the car with him. You obliged, unable to ever refuse the bright eyed little boy. Alistair’s small, clammy hands squeezed yours and he watched intently as you gazed out the window, entranced by all the things you passed. There was still a lot you had to get used to, but it brought you comfort knowing that now, at least you had the time. There was no pressure to return back to Themyscira. D.C. was your home. Wherever Alistair and Max was, you were home.
Alistair nuzzled his head into you and closed his eyes, feeling completely content with your company. “I like your new outfit.” he hummed, his fingers tracing your glimmering gold belt.
“You do?” you asked curiously, and felt Alistair nod against you. “You know Ali, I sorta prefer the normal clothes.” you shrugged, and caught Maxwell smiling in the reflection of the rear view mirror.
“I like this,” Alistair admitted. “You look like a superhero. Like… from my comic books.”
“You don’t need a fancy costume to be a hero, Alistair,” you said, tapping his chin so he looked up at you. “Your dad is proof of that.”
***
Maxwell dropped his keys on the side table by the front door when the three of you returned home. “Are you guys hungry?” he questioned, scratching the back of his head. After a day in court, he’d worked up quite the appetite, he must admit.
Alistair grinned and nodded his head. “Starving! Can we get pizza? Please daddy, oh please can we get pizza?”
“Hmph,” Maxwell grumbled, displaying a faux annoyance before bursting into an adorable grin. “I suppose so. Since it’s a day to celebrate.”
“Yay!” Alistair cheered, running into the living room and jumping on the sofa. By the sounds of it, he’d found the remote control for the television and turned on one of his favourite kiddie TV shows.
Walking over to the telephone, Maxwell caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the many mirrors in the hallway and frowned. He was happy, but Gods did he still look a mess. The blonde in his hair was rapidly fading out and he was in desperate need of a trim. He’d been neglecting his biotin supplements and forgetting to moisturize, and oh, his tired eyes. You caught him hyper analyzing his appearance and approached him from behind. Pressing a kiss into his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist, you sighed.
“What are you thinking about?” you wondered out loud.
Maxwell swallowed. “I just… I’m not the man I once was,” he ran his fingers through his hair and gestured down to the power suit that he’d worn to court. “I’m not Max Lord anymore. Not this… big oil tycoon businessman. Not on TV anymore. This whole thing is a facade. It’s not me. And everytime I look at myself… I’m reminded of all the mistakes that I made,” he admitted quietly before taking a shaky exhale. “It’s fine,” he quickly backtracked. “Guess I’ll just have to suck it up.”
“The worst part is over, Max. And you’re a survivor,” you told him, taking his hand. “The world can forgive you, but it means nothing if you can’t forgive yourself. You need to learn to love yourself.”
“Will you help me?” Maxwell asked quietly, a nervous tone prominent in his voice.
You offered him a warm smile. “That’s why I’m here,” you reminded him sweetly. “To help.”
Maxwell turned around to face you fully and placed a hand on your cheek. You swore, in that moment and under his touch, that you had forgotten how to breathe. Max might not have been able to see it, but he truly was so beautiful. The gold in his former life may have been gilded, but the gold in his heart was pure and authentic. And now, it was all yours.
Maxwell pulled his tie off his neck and shuffled out of his suit jacket. “I think it might be time for me to hang up this tie for good.” Maxwell sighed sadly, running the patterned silk material between his fingers.
“Do you want to?”
Maxwell paused for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve worked so hard to get here… I just can’t give Black Gold up.”
“Then don’t.” you whispered, shuffling your body into his. He snaked an arm around you and sighed even louder.
“It’s not that easy, darling. I don’t have the money to keep it going.”
“I won’t let you give up on your lifelong dream, so… we’ll figure something out. Maybe you’ll have to downsize. If oil isn’t making you any money then maybe… you might have to specialise in something else. If the past week has proved anything it’s that all our problems can be figured out through the power of love. And you have that. Right here,” you maneuvered his hand and placed it on your heart before pointing your free hand into the living room at Alistair. The door stood slightly ajar. “And right there.”
Maxwell smiled. “There’s a thing, here. In the world of man…” you could tell he was about to start rambling about Goodness know what. He looked up slightly, avoiding your eye contact as he talked. “Where two people… love each other, a lot. And so they make a promise to dedicate themselves to one another. Asking you to be my girlfriend sounds a little childish,” Maxwell chuckled softly and your eyes widened when you realised where he was going with this. “But I guess… if you wanted…”
“I do!” You said quickly, cutting him off before he could even finish.
“You do?” Maxwell asked, truly stunned that you had agreed so fast. He couldn’t believe someone as magnificent as you would love him back, let alone want to be with him. He never thought he was deserving of love, especially after everything that had happened. If Maxwell had never met you, he would’ve been certain that he’d grow old, cold and alone.
“I do.” you confirmed, grinning and pressing your lips into his.
The genuine smile that was on his face when he pulled away was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. More beautiful than the sands and oceans on Themyscira. More beautiful than the landmarks and caves in Athens. It differed to his television smile. This was one hundred percent authentic. This was Maxwell Lorenzano. “I’m going to change into my pajamas,” you announced. “And I’ll bring Ali upstairs with me and have him get ready for bed.”
“Okay,” Max acknowledged, still grinning. “I’ll set the dining room table for the pizza.”
You guided Alistair upstairs and followed him into his bedroom. You sat down on his bed, and pulled him down to sit next to you. “I told you I had a gift for you, from Athens.” you smiled and watched as Alistair’s eyes lit up with excitement.
“Yes!” Alistair cried out, bouncing up and down.
You detached the lasso of Hestia from your tunic and placed the rope gently in his hands. “This is my lasso of truth. Remember that one night when I met Julianna and Theodore, and I came to visit you? And I showed you how it worked? Do you remember?”
Alistair nodded slowly. “Yes. You told me the lasso wasn’t powered by you. It was powered by the truth.”
“That’s right,” you confirmed, your heart swelling at how Alistair had retained that piece of information. “The lasso is important to me because it was a gift from my mother. And now, I’m passing it down to you. I didn’t get this in Athens, but it is from Athens originally. I hope my lasso will be a constant reminder for you to always tell the truth, and always see the good in people.”
Alistair’s jaw was agape and he was struck with awe as his fingers traced the magical rope. “I love it…” he whispered.
“I’m glad,” you smiled. “It’s very powerful Ali. Who knows, one day you might be able to use it.”
“And I can be a superhero just like you…” Alistair grinned before biting his lip. “And just like my daddy.”
“Exactly. Just like your daddy. C’mon now, I want you to go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. Then we can go order our pizza, okay?”
Before you left his bedroom, Alistair called your name. You sensed hesitancy in his voice, almost like he was nervous. “Can I… can I try out the lasso... on you? Maybe?”
You wanted to ask him why the child might possibly want to do that, but then you realised, he was probably just curious. So, you obliged, and held out your wrist. Remembering how you’d shown him before, Alistair wrapped the rope around your arm and took a deep breath.
“Do you love my daddy?” Alistair asked, after taking a deep breath.
“Yes.”
“Will you promise not to leave him, ever?”
“I promise.”
“Would you mind if… if… I called you mommy?”
You felt warm tears prick the corners of his eyes. A mother. It’s everything you had always wanted to be. You were the goddess of home and hearth. The urge to one day have a family was in your nature.
“I’d love that, Ali.” you admitted.
Alistair pulled the rope from your wrist and enveloped you into a tight hug. “Okay. Because I love you mommy.”
“I love you too.”
***
“What do you want?” Maxwell asked his son, pen in hand. He’d been scribbling down the order, the businessman in him wanting to have everything planned out before he made the phone call.
“Pineapple pizza! The biggest one!” Alistair exclaimed gleefully, stretching out his arms. You couldn’t help but laugh.
“Ali, you won’t eat it all,” Maxwell frowned. You nudged him, as if to say, ‘let him have this’. “Okay,” Max sighed. “The biggest pineapple pizza. And what do you want?” he asked, turning to you this time. You furrowed your eyebrows together, taking another look at the menu that had been passed around the dining room table.
“How do I know what’s good?”
“Well, not pineapple.” Maxwell grumbled.
Alistair gasped, unable to believe the words that had just left his father’s lips. “Don’t listen to him,” Alistair said, grabbing your hand. “Daddy is wrong. Pineapple pizza is so delicious. Will you try some of mine?”
You squeezed the little boy’s hand. “Sure,” you agreed. Maxwell swore his heart melted everytime he witnessed interaction between you and his son. It was so pure, it was like you and Alistair had known each other forever. Granted, you’d known the little boy longer than you knew Maxwell. The day you woke up in the park felt like yesterday. “What do you like, Max?” you quizzed, eventually giving up on the menu.
“Pepperoni, I guess. I don’t eat pizza much.” He admitted sheepishly. Before you could reply, Alistair’s voice made you jump up in shock.
“Boring!” He called out. Max shot him a playful glare and you rolled your eyes.
“Don’t be rude!” Maxwell chastised, wiggling his index finger, and you couldn’t hide the smile on your face.
“He’s like you,” you pointed out. “Always has something to say.”
“My son.” Maxwell declared proudly, pulling Alistair into his lap and ruffling his dark hair.
Just like Max had anticipated, Alistair couldn’t eat the large pineapple pizza. In fact, he’d fallen asleep on the sofa after only two slices, a Star Wars blanket draped over him and a stuffed toy curled tight into his chest.
“Alistair asked me if it would be alright if he called me mommy,” you admitted quietly as Maxwell gathered the plates and empty glasses. His head snapped to face you the second the words left your lips. “I told him yes. But I figured… maybe you should have some say in it? I don’t know.”
“It means a lot to me that Ali can put his faith in you, and that he sees you as his mother. But this is a big deal. Family is for life and I don’t… he’s already lost one mother. I don’t want him to lose you too. So of course, it’s fine by me. As long as you promise to always be a mother to him, no matter what.”
“Always,” you whispered in reassurance, cupping Maxwell’s cheek and gazing into his dark eyes. “I promise.”
“I believe you,” Maxwell replied, kissing you on the forehead. “I should take him to bed.”
“Let me handle it,” you replied, stretching before leaning down to pick up the sleeping boy and cradling him in your arms. Clearly, somewhere down the line, you had forgotten you had been stripped of your powers and you were now a mortal. You let out a yelp. Once able to carry Alistair easily, you were now struggling. You wobbled slightly and Max hurried to your side to hold you and help you keep your balance.
“You okay?” Max asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“He’s heavier than he looks.” you gasped, already a little breathless.
“Wanna trade?” he quizzed, raising a plate.
You mumbled a ‘yes’ and passed Alistair over to his father. “I’ll do the dishes and meet you upstairs.”
***
Max was still with Alistair by the time you had finished up the dishes and headed to the bedroom. You sat by the dressing table, brushing out your hair, and looked at the pile of discarded armour sat in the corner of the room. Maybe one day it would come of use, but for now, this was it. This was the start of a new life where you didn’t need no Amazonian armour. With Maxwell and Alistair, you had all the protection you could ever need.
“Hi,” Maxwell whispered, padding into the bedroom. You turned to face him and smiled. “I’m glad to be home… now… with you. Glad this is all over.”
He placed his hands on your shoulders and began to rub them affectionately. “Me too.” you replied warmly, leaning into his touch and nuzzling your head into his chest. You closed your eyes in contentment. Every second you spent with Max, you spent wishing it would last forever. Although you knew better than to make a wish.
“Are you tired?” Max pondered, smoothing out your hair and admiring your face.
Pushing back your hair and admiring your beauty was up there with one of his most favourite things to do. Your eyes looked like home, your lips tasted like home. You were home.
“Mm, no, not really…” you confessed, staring at the image of both you and Max in the reflection of the dressing table mirror. But Max’s gaze was fixated only on you. “Actually. I had an idea, since you know, we’re celebrating and all,” you confessed after a brief moment of comfortable silence. Maxwell raised a curious eyebrow and waited for you to continue. “Remember our first night back in Athens when we…” you trailed off and glanced over towards the bed.
“Yeah.” Max answered, already breathless from the thought.
“I liked it a lot.” You admitted bashfully as you reminisced on your first time with Maxwell.
“Me too.” he agreed.
“So do you want to do it again…?”
Max didn’t reply with words, but instead he pulled you up from the stool that you were sitting on and twirled you around so you were facing him. He crashed his lips onto yours and let his large hands freely roam your back, desperate to feel every inch of your body. He’d been waiting to do this again.
Without breaking away from the kiss, you pushed him towards his bed and climbed on top of him. You straddled his hips and began to run your hands over his chest, leaning over and kissing along his jaw and down his neck.
Feeling his cock already hot and heavy, he cursed under his breath, dipping his hand under the hem of your silk nightgown and smirking upon finding that you weren’t wearing any underwear. He slowly slid his thick fingers between your folds, causing you to gasp at the sudden bolt of pleasure that ran through you. His thumb began to circle your clit and you dug your fingers into his shoulders as he worked at your bundle of nerves.
He loved to look at you and watch as your face twisted in pleasure. He liked to know you were feeling good. His fingers were like magic, and he truly had a golden touch.
“Want you to cum on my fingers, okay?” Max asked, increasing the speed. You tried to push out a word but just came out as a mangled moan. You nodded your head, feeling your cunt desperately clench around nothing and your thighs tighten as you neared orgasm.
When you came undone, Max’s dark eyes gleamed with desire and pride. He pulled his fingers from under your nightgown and placed them on his tongue, sucking your arousal from his own digits.
“You taste amazing baby,” He praised, unable to contain his smile. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You replied back with a smile.
Both you and Max made your way over to the bed, stripping yourself out of your clothes and intertwining your bodies together.
“I don’t ever want this moment to end.” you confessed with a shaky exhale as Maxwell squeezed your breasts, peppering kisses down the valley of your chest.
“It doesn’t have to, princess, we have the rest of our lives to spend together.”
There it was again. The dumb nickname he’d called you from the day you first met. You’d insist that you weren’t a princess, and by no means royalty, but to Maxwell, you were. You were his princess. A rose stuck amongst a bush of thorns. You were the epitome of hope, beauty and love. And you were all his.
So the nickname grew on you, and you’d come to like it.
You felt the tip of Maxwell’s cock tease against your entrance as he swiftly rubbed his length up and down, between your glistening wet folds. By the time he pushed himself inside of you, just the scrunched up look on his face was enough to make your stomach erupt into butterflies. The crinkle in between his eyebrows and the way his perfect lips parted into an ‘o’ shape as your walls clamped around him.
“Fuck, you-you’re so tight,” He gasped, the Adams apple in his neck prevailing as he tried to swallow away his desire. “Always so tight. So per-perfect. Good girl. Such a go-good girl.” he praised, a small strand of dark blonde hair falling out of place and crossing his forehead.
You shuddered at his words.
“Look at me,” you begged, and he obliged, his chocolate coloured eyes snapping open. Despite the glaze of lust that seemed to cloud his vision, he was able to fixate on you, spending a few moments adoring your face -- the face he fell in love with -- as he remained seated deep inside you. He was stretching you open and Gods, it felt delicious, but you needed more. You desperately needed more. “Move, please.” you whimpered, bringing your hands up to cup his face.
Maxwell began to rock his hips into yours, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. He leaned over you and pressed his forehead against yours as he picked up his speed. “Don’t be too loud,” he warned quietly, his warm breath fanning over your ear.
It wasn’t long before he felt his cock twitch inside of you. “Shit,” he moaned, squeezing your shoulder to signify that he was close. “Neither of us are protected-- fuck, I need, I need to pull out.”
“Mm, no, no Max. Keep going. Don’t stop.” You begged, your fingers tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck.
“You could get pregnant.” he rasped out, suddenly remembering you were now a mortal.
“Would it really be so bad?” you asked, and your question alone was enough to throw Maxwell over the edge.
Would it really be so bad?
You had a point. Max had never imagined having any more kids. Hell, he’d never really planned on having Alistair. But times had changed, and he was so in love with you. He figured -- maybe kids were something he could give another go at. Little mini you’s running around the house would simply be so adorable. And who better to have children with, than the goddess of home and hearth? Having a family was written in your destiny. It was always meant to be. Given the time and the place, the prospect of having kids, getting you pregnant… it just felt right.
The start of a new life… both figuratively and literally.
Of course he was certain that this was what you wanted, and evidently, you wanted it to. But the idea of seeing you swole and round, carrying his children… well that was a whole different thing.
“Fuck princess, you’re gonna look so good carrying my baby.” Maxwell grounded, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.
You felt your orgasm wash over you, and your walls clamp around his cock. That was enough to push him over the edge.
Maxwell came inside of you, and he made sure to cum deep, too. Once he’d regained his breath, he grabbed two pillows from his side of the bed and propped them under your butt so the lower half of your body was higher than your upper half.
“What are you doing?” you giggled.
“Making sure not a drop of it goes to waste,” Maxwell replied as he pressed sloppy kisses along your inner thighs.
And when he caught a glimpse of his seed beginning to spill out of you, he plunged his index finger and pushed it back in.
“I love you so much.” You whispered as Maxwell smoothed out your hair and kissed your lips.
“I love you too, darling. And I can’t wait to embark on this new life together.”
You pondered for a moment, relishing in the comfortable silence before you brought your index finger and pointed it towards Maxwell. “Life is good, but it can be better.”
Maxwell was trying his damn hardest to fight the grin that was edging to cross his lips. How could one person be so adorable?
“It can always be better.” he whispered, bringing his hand down to your stomach and kissing you again.
———————————————
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Musings on ASOIAF Ladies and Ambition
I’ve noticed people use “ambition” to describe Sansa and Daenerys as if it’s a bad word or an insult (often called “power hungry”). Yet in the text of the series, neither of them are shown to be ambitious people as a core characteristic. I blame the series for a lot of this, because it failed to explore the internal dialogue of Sansa, Arya, and even Cersei, who ends up more humanized than either of them by the end (because of the maybe baby).
Cersei Lannister is the classic ambitious ASOIAF lady, whose point-of-view is introduced in perhaps the most iconic sentence of any introductory chapter:
She dreamt she sat the Iron Throne, high above them all.
I can’t think of a sentence in ASOIAF that better introduces the internal thoughts and view of its leading character.
In comparison, Sansa’s first sentence is receiving news about her father’s whereabouts, Daenerys is shown her new dress to meet Drogo, and Arya has crooked stitches again. Arya’s works to frame her relationship with Sansa and her internal struggle to fit the feminine Westerosi mold, while Sansa and Daenerys are setting up plot points. None of these interactions signal ambition, bad or good. Daenerys did not arrange her wedding, Sansa is just told the information by her Septa, and while Arya is aspiring to have straight stitches, that’s hardly an ambitious goal for a girl of nine.
Fans rarely, if ever, deny Cersei’s cruel, cold, often stupid ambition. In fact, it’s one of the reason people seem to love her. She’s internally open about what she wants - power - and when she wants it - now:
All of them are burning now, she told herself, savoring the thought. They are dead and burning, every one, with all their plots and schemes and betrayals. It is my day now. It is my castle and my kingdom.
- AFFC, Cersei III
The rule was hers; Cersei did not mean to give it up until Tommen came of age. I waited, so can he. I waited half my life. She had played the dutiful daughter, the blushing bride, the pliant wife. She had suffered . . . She had contended with Jon Arryn, Ned Stark, and her vile, treacherous, murderous dwarf brother, all the while promising herself that one day it would be her turn. If Margaery Tyrell thinks to cheat me of my hour in the sun, she had bloody well think again.
- AFFC, Cersei V
Cersei is the definition of a power hungry lady, scheming and cheating at every point. Yes, Sansa learned from her, but most of Sansa’s internalized lessons of Cersei’s were to do the exact opposite.
"The night's first traitors," the queen [Cersei] said, "but not the last, I fear. . . . Another lesson you should learn, if you hope to sit beside my son. . . . The only way to keep your people loyal is to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy."
"I will remember, Your Grace," said Sansa, though she had always heard that love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear. If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me.
- ACOK, Sansa VI
Cersei isn’t the only POV character who views herself outside of conventional Westerosi standards and aspires to something beyond being a wife and mother. Arya Stark has ambition writ clear on the page, though it is not so cold or denying other people their rights or chances. Compared to Cersei, Arya doesn’t want everything, crown and throne and kingdom and all. She just wants something, and even that is denied to highborn women in Westeros. Even when she asks her father about her future, a man who wants to do right by his children and loves them, Eddard Stark is blinded by Westerosi patriarchy:
Arya cocked her head to one side. "Can I be a king's councillor and build castles and become the High Septon?"
"You," Ned said, kissing her lightly on the brow, "will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon."
- AGOT, Eddard V
With Arya in this, I see some parallels to Elaena Targaryen, who was so good at math and management she served as the secret Master of Coin while her husband carried the title. Elaena was “more willful than Rhaena, but not as beautiful as either of her sisters,” yet is also said to have been “more beautiful at age seventy than at age seventeen,” growing into herself like Arya is expected to. They both even cut their hair, Arya to hide her gender and Elaena to hide her beauty, both instances to gain freedom from captivity in the Red Keep.
Despite both these examples of ambition - Cersei’s all-encompassing, without care for how it affects the realm, and Arya’s attempt to find a place in the world outside the Westerosi model - it still becomes an insult when people speak of Daenerys and Sansa.
Critics claim Sansa is ambitious, and negatively so, because she “wants to be queen.” But this criticism misses a vital point of Sansa’s character. Unlike Cersei, she does not want to be queen because of the power and political influence, but because she will be living a song. In the start, Sansa’s got her head in the clouds, not to the dirty world of politics. Her very first chapter lays out this motivation incredibly clearly:
All she wanted was for things to be nice and pretty, the way they were in the songs.
When she thinks of Joffrey and being in love with him, it’s because he’s “handsome and gallant as any prince in the songs” (AGOT, Sansa II),
Alternatively, it has been said that Sansa is ambitious because of her claim to Winterfell. But compare how Sansa thinks of her claim to how Big Walder Frey does. Despite being far down the inheritance line, he is certain he will someday possess the Twins. He’s likely willing to kill his family to become Lord of the Crossing, and already has killed Little Walder.
In comparison, Sansa isn’t the one who realizes her claim as heir to Winterfell, even after her two younger brothers are believed dead. It’s Dontos who mentions it, and after she still thinks that Robb will have sons to inherit.
But she had not forgotten his words, either. The heir to Winterfell, she would think as she lay abed at night. It's your claim they mean to wed. Sansa had grown up with three brothers. She never thought to have a claim, but with Bran and Rickon dead . . . It doesn't matter, there's still Robb, he's a man grown now, and soon he'll wed and have a son. Anyway, Willas Tyrell will have Highgarden, what would he want with Winterfell?
- ASOS, Sansa II
Sansa’s not ready to kill Bran and Rickon if they show up. Her arc is about taking off the rose-tinted glasses and seeing reality, but also working to make reality like a song. For example, her idea of the Tournament of the Winged Knights for Sweetrobin. It’s a song come to life, all by her making. TBD how the ending goes, of course, but it shows that trajectory.
And finally, Daenerys.
Daenerys is not driven by some lifelong desire to win and dominate. She’s forced into it, a la Brienne’s “no chance and no choice.” If Daenerys were raised in a stable environment, I have a feeling she’d be much more like Sansa: dreamy, hopeful, sweet and studious. Happy.
But instead, her eyes are open.
When she’s introduced as a character, she shows an awareness for the schemes and politics of the world. She knows her brother is called the Beggar King in the Free Cities, and is doubtful of the smallfolk’s secret toasts to Viserys III that Illyrio Mopatis claims happen across Westeros.
Like Sansa and Cersei, there’s evidence of her goals, hopes, and wishes in the very first chapter:
"I don't want to be his queen," she heard herself say in a small, thin voice. "Please, please, Viserys, I don't want to, I want to go home."
. . .
Dany had only meant their rooms in Illyrio's estate, no true home surely, though all they had, but her brother did not want to hear that. There was no home there for him. Even the big house with the red door had not been home for him.
Daenerys remembers home as the house with the red door in Braavos. It’s her brother whose only home and stability was the Red Keep, not her.
Throughout her journey of power to take back the Seven Kingdoms, she is doubtful at every turn and most of her wishes are for happiness, for peace, for stability.
Dany had no wish to reduce King's Landing to a blackened ruin full of unquiet ghosts. She had supped enough on tears. I want to make my kingdom beautiful, to fill it with fat men and pretty maids and laughing children. I want my people to smile when they see me ride by, the way Viserys said they smiled for my father.
- ACOK, Daenerys II
A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros?
- ADWD, Daenerys II
Even later, Daenerys is determined to bring peace to the lands she currently rules. She does plan to return to the Seven Kingdoms, but it’s not driven by pure ambition. And this is, notably, from a conversation when Prince Quentyn Nymeros Martell asks her to come back and claim them now, saying she has allies for that conquest. And still she turns him down, with promises that it will only happen eventually:
"Daenerys said. ". . . .One day I shall return to Westeros to claim my father's throne, and look to Dorne for help. But on this day the Yunkai'i have my city ringed in steel. I may die before I see my Seven Kingdoms. Hizdahr may die. Westeros may be swallowed by the waves."
- ADWD, Daenerys VII
And yet in both Sansa and Daenerys, these visions and hopes for the futures they might have are considered unbridled ambition, although they turn more on happiness and peace for themselves and their people, rather than the type of ambition Cersei has, which is clearly her own power and being heralded above everyone.
Daenerys’ thoughts in her sixth chapter of ADWD have the same energy as Sansa’s “I will make them love me.”:
"A queen must know the sufferings of her people."
. . .
A queen must listen to her people, Dany reminded herself.
Daenerys has figured out how to make her people love her, by wearing her “floppy ears” and appealing to the masses, listening to them, et cetera. She’s also a bit ahead of Sansa in the realm of ruling, to be sure.
But how are these similar thoughts ambition in either of them? It’s an attempt to empathize and connect, not to throw away and disregard and rule by force and domination. Both these ladies are more nuanced, and the fandom does them a disservice by painting them as ambitious or power-hungry when at the end for both of them, it’s a desire to have a happy, stable, loving life.
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➤ “If I were to warn you, what would I say...?”
C A P T A I N C Y R I L S T A C Y
Cyril is highly defensive, hard to hit, and extremely quick to punish anyone that gets in his melee range. Melee to mid-range is where he’s the most dangerous, because that puts his opponent both within bullwhip range, and grabbing range. In combat, Cyril’s motive is always to subdue his adversary, not to kill. His goal is to force them to surrender, and he will employ whatever nefarious and cruel tactics he must in order to manage this swiftly. He will grapple, choke, bruise, beat and break bones without hesitation if he has to.
His bullwhip is the weapon he’s the most proficient and dangerous with, as well as being the weapon with which he can inflict the most pain and fear. Typically his whip is used for crowd control - it is most often utilized to halt someone’s retreat. It’s common for people to attempt to flee, only to be tangled up in the coils and yanked back into Cyril’s range. It’s common for individuals to suffer dislocated joints or snapped limbs when this happens, to say nothing of the way the whip cuts into the skin upon latching onto them.
Once someone is stunned, entangled, or otherwise slowed enough for Cyril to get a firm grasp, he can use his right hand to shock them and effectively paralyze them long enough to shackle or bind them. In most encounters, once he’s shocked someone, unless there is outside intervention - the fight between those two is over.
U N T O U C H A B L E
While it’s no secret the Captain keeps his right eye covered, the reason as to why widely remains a mystery. Those oblivious to his name and reputation will typically assume he lost that eye somehow, or perhaps that he keeps it covered as some sailors prefer to do, to allow for better sight in the darkness below decks as well as to sharpen one’s aim. Few ask, as it’s of course terribly rude to pry into such things.
Those who do know of him will often insist the covered eye is magic, a source of power and the very thing that renders him “untouchable”. Rumors often circulate that this magic eye is also the source of the crackling lightning that sparks and manifests from his right hand, allowing him to knock people down for the count so easily once he merely gets a hold of them.
As if to deliberately reinforce the frankly wild belief and ridiculous rumors that he is invincible, Cyril outwardly bears no scars nor marks on his body.
[ bold for often // italicize for situational // strikethrough for never ]
commander / duelist / “honorable” / dishonorable / would have others do their fighting / stealthy / long-ranged / melee / technological / sorcery / superhuman abilities / has fought in an illegal tourney / a lover of fighting / a hater of fighting / cowardly / reckless / strategic / uses underhanded tricks / renowned for their skill / trained ( sword and shield ) / untrained / keeps skills secret / won a battle / lost a battle / ruthless / merciful
╳ F L A W S
moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | liar | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky
♔ S T R E N G T H S
honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | focused | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | loyal
Tagged by: @whitherliliesbloom & @windupzenos ( Thank you both! )
Tagging: @verdandir @manawalls @finalvalor @noscean-scholar @wanderlust-spirits @cero-tia @menphinasbow @windup-dragoon @thebratcat @mystellis @reshaepocan @pearlescent-scales @bastets-ocs @alun-ura @finalsongxiv @amurr-reha @ennochian @mieyun @deviri @ashadowatthefork @unmend @candideangel @alinteau @sati-ffxiv @bolt-from-the-dark @ishgardianblossom @shroudblessings @sunnythanalan @windupnamazu & anyone else interested!
[ I know I’m a bit late on this one, so no pressure & if you’ve already done it / been tagged - my apologies. Also, please feel free to use me as your tagger even if I didn’t mention you, I would love to read more of these! ]
Full stat breakdown & continued Cyril related ramblings under the cut:
C O M B A T M O D E : C A P T A I N C Y R I L S T A C Y
★★★★★★★★☆☆ — STRENGTH
★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ — OFFENSE
★★★★★★★★☆☆ — DEFENSE
★★★★★★★★★☆ — SPEED
★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ — DURABILITY
★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ — ACCURACY
★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ — AGILITY
★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ — STAMINA
★★★★★★★★★☆ — TEAMWORK
★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ — STEALTH
★★★★★★★★★☆ — MELEE
★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ — BLADES
★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ — BLUNT
★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ — RANGED
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ — MAGIC
★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ — TRAPS
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ — MEDIC
& ★★★★★★★★★★ — BULLWHIP
G E N T L E D I S C L A I M E R : Cyril is written more akin to a thriller genre villain, sometimes teetering over into horror depending on the situation - while still being set in high fantasy. I just realize he might be a bit much, perhaps too dark or violent, depending on your preferred entertainment genre / expectations, so please consider this a soft warning if that’s not something you enjoy!
O V E R V I E W [ C O N T I N U E D ] :
When in a fight, Cyril typically will come across collected, poised and honestly rather cocky. Cyril is something of an expert at breaking people’s morale and shattering their confidence, and that kind of behavior on his part often starts the very moment he and an opponent, or potential opponent, meet. Cyril will insult, belittle, talk down to, and make a great display of pity towards his adversary - this usually includes offering them ample opportunities to surrender to him before things get bloody.
In the inevitability that someone refuses to surrender, he’ll then dare them to prove themselves to him, which he will equate to proving themselves worthy of autonomy. Cyril will demand their attention and effort, and rather playfully jeer at them the whole time, especially if they seem distracted in any way [ say, for example, if he’s holding their loved one(s) hostage ]. That, however, is typically only his behavior at a distance, or as the fight begins and the two are getting a feel for one another.
Once a fight picks up, and especially once Cyril’s genuinely in melee range - you can expect him to start pushing and forcing himself into his opponent’s personal space. Definitely a byproduct of his confidence, but also typically something he can get away with due to sheer size and strength. He’ll grab, grope, and try to get people into uncomfortable holds they can’t easily wriggle out of. Choke-holds are common, whether he’s wrapped his arm about their neck from behind, or simply clasped his hand about their throat. Getting up in someone’s space may also mean pinning them to the wall, or pinning them down on the ground - he’s skilled at grappling and comfortable with either. It’s also common, both as a way to disorient as well dishearten, for Cyril to slap an opponent if he sees an opening. Usually a slap in the face is paired with an insult - maybe they let their guard down, maybe their footwork is poor - whatever it may be, Cyril will capitalize on any chance to humiliate his opponent.
In addition to getting uncomfortably close, one can expect him to snarl, shout, curse, and even growl at his opponents. Words may still be exchanged, but instead of playful banter one might instead hear whispered threats or extremely dark insinuations and other foul comments. It starts to sound like he’s finished being playful, though that isn’t necessarily the case. After all, he usually treats people like playthings, and encounters are often a game played at his leisure. Cyril likes to scare people, and he likes to see their reactions. He also just so happens to be entirely too willing to make good on any threat he whispers.
At his worst, if an opponent refuses to go down, or say his temper is getting the better of him - Cyril’s restraint will falter and he’ll start being unnecessarily violent. His temper is notoriously fickle, so whether his reaction is appropriate for the encounter he lashes out in or not is hard to say. He has a history of beating people bloody - be it with his whip, his body, or both - until they pass out. Cyril has kicked and crushed people under his boot hard enough to shatter bones and crack ribs, as well as doubtless inflicting many a concussion slamming people against this or that structure. His temper boiling over to such a degree as to see such behavior is rare... but not as rare as it should be.
O U T O F C H A R A C T E R N O T E S :
Cyril is written to be a powerful and ideally ( if I’m doing my job right ;; ) terrifying villain to go up against. He’s supposed to feel impossible to overpower, coupled with losing to him of course having massive & heavy repercussions - both for a hero / heroine and for that individual’s loved ones. I really wanted him to be scary and unforgivable.
While not invincible in any way, he would like to have others believe he is. Therefore, he invests no small amount of effort into selling that invincible image, with a generally rather high success rate. Rumors abound of an “untouchable” Captain Stacy, who boasts no scars and loses no duel. Which... it’s true he’s not yet lost a duel, but why that is can be written about another time.
I’ve written Cyril to intentionally be a villain that someone cannot simply overpower with brute force. Winning against Cyril is going to take strategy, forethought, and ultimately in some cases, stooping to his level or even flirting with a diplomatic relationship. He is a pirate, after all, pirates love to parley.
He’s generally meant to put a hero / heroine in a difficult position, where they’re forced to make decisions and do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do in order to defeat him, because again - simply overpowering him is not going to work. And at the same time, he cannot just be ignored or avoided, because his trade and his tendencies are too cruel and intrusive to cast a blind eye towards. Morally, he cannot be allowed to continue what he does, and someone has to put an end to it. I wanted to make him a villain that challenged heroes on a deeper level than just physical strength.
At least, all of that is what I hope for when I write him. Did I succeed? Who knows.
Thank you for reading! 🌹
#cyril related ramblings#character meme: cyril#this got so long me @ me whY ARE YOU LIKE THIS#but also yes hello I wanted to greet some mutuals so I hope you don't mind the tags!#that and I genuinely did find this fun so hopefully some of you may as well \o/#long post#sweats
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Josiah Trelawny x F.Reader: You deserve better - Part 2
Good day to all of you wonderful people 🌹💗 Here comes the new chapter of “You deserve better” I would like to thank everyone for your feedback and likes. Thank you very much dear ones 😄💗
Please excuse my mistakes. English isn´t my native language
Warning: Violent and abusive husband
Part 1 / Part 3
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You deserve better - Part 2
There was an oppressive silence while you sat across from your husband at the dining table. You had no appetite because his presence made your stomach ache. You tried not to let it show how much you couldn’t stand this man. Why did you just marry this man? Why?! You thought Henry would be a good husband, but he was far from that. But his charm and his friendly words had blinded you - and now you had to pay for your naivety. Your lack of interest in his activities didn’t seem to bother Henry. In his opinion, you had to stay out of his business. There were things you just shouldn’t know and you didn’t want to know…
While Henry was cutting the meat with his knife and led the little piece to his mouth with his fork, he looked at you and he saw that you hadn’t even touched your food.
“What’s wrong with you? Not hungry?”
“No”, you said shortly, giving him a quick glance before you grab your glass of water and take a sip. You could hardly stand to be in the same room with this man. Your thoughts were only on your encounter with Josiah. You wanted to see this man again, but you also knew you shouldn’t. Henry was your husband… But this marriage was so useless, so unloving… so much of hate and arguments. Should you endure this all your life? God, why couldn’t you think of anything else than Josiah? His kind smile, his beautiful eyes, his friendly voice…
“You don’t seem to be pleased that I’m with you again!”
Henry wiped his mouth with a napkin and then reached for his glass, which was filled with red wine. Your eyes followed every single movement and you looked in disgust at how he drank the red liquid all at once. You lowered your eyes when he put the glass back down and his gaze met you. You felt so uncomfortable and you hate having to face the truth: you’d have to live with him and his habits for the rest of your life. Drunkenness was one of them and when he was drunk he was just cruel. You could hear Henry rising from his seat and he slowly came to you, stood right next to you and you looked up at him questioningly. When he reached out for your face you startled a little, but when his hand touched your cheek tenderly you knew that he would not hurt you. Not yet…
“I missed you, darling. Why are you so cold to me?”
“I’m not feeling very well today, Herny,” you said softly and you turned your face away as he leaned down to kiss you. Henry snorted angrily because it was not the first time that you rejected him and he didn’t like it at all.
“Stubborn bitch!” He suddenly shouted at you and you startled, closed your eyes and tried to stay calm. Alcohol was already working. He had already been drinking on the way to Saint-Denis. You smelled that when he got home.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
You got up from your seat. You wanted to leave this room and not have to listen to what a boring and cold wife you were.
“Where are you going?!”
“I won’t listen to your insults!”
But Henry didn’t just let you go. He hurried after you and grabbed your arm.
“Disrespectful woman!”
You looked into his eyes with fear as he turned you towards him and glared at you. Your body tensed and you were afraid. This man always found a way to hurt you and blame you for it.
“You will have to listen to what I have to say! And I want you to behave like a real wife! ”
“First act like a real gentleman!”
You pull yourself out of his grip and flee from him. Fortunately, he left you alone this evening, but you had to admit that Henry’s behavior had scared you…
Clemens point, two days later
“Morning, dear boy!”
“Trelawny”
Of course, Arthur didn’t miss the fact that Josiah was in a good mood and in the last few days he had been walking around the camp with a big grin on his face. No one had missed that and even Mary Beth had tried to find out from Josiah what made him so happy. But Josiah didn’t seem to want to share his secret with anyone. Arthur alone had a little idea of what Josiah had been thinking about for the past few days. It surely had something to do with you.
Josiah filled his cup with hot coffee and Arthur did the same. As Arthur filled his cup, he looked at Josiah and smiled.
“You are in a good mood, Josiah.”
“I always am, dear boy!”
Arthur chuckled softly and he put the hot pot back on the ground before taking a sip of the strong coffee. Josiah looked at Arthur, who raised his eyebrow as he drank from his cup and looked at Josiah. Josiah was about to respond but then he had to laugh quietly himself. The two men seemed to understand each other without words, and they drank their coffee together this morning.
During lunchtime, Dutch called some of his men together. Dutch had a special job for some of his men which were a bit more cultivated. These included Josiah and Hosea. Dutch had been in Saint-Denis for the past few days and had heard some interesting conversations. And now he wanted to sneak between the rich society. It would certainly not be a mistake to win the trust of powerful men. But that was not the main reason why Dutch wanted to go to Saint-Denis with his men.
“Gentleman, the mayor is going to have a big party in his humble estate. And illegal competitions are supposed to take place there.”
“Mayor? And how are we supposed to get to his little party?”
Dutch looked at Arthur with an amused grin when he asked. Then Dutch turned to Josiah.
“Well, exactly. How do we get to this party? Josiah will help us!”
Dutch put his hand on the magician’s shoulder and he looked him straight in the eye, smiling with satisfaction, knowing that Josiah would not disappoint him. He knew Josiah could get in anywhere.
“Josiah, you are the best man for this kind of thing. Make sure you bring us gentlemen to this party!”
Josiah understood and it would be easy work for him. He nodded to Dutch.
“Of course, Dutch. Nothing easier than that!”
Dutch discussed the plan extensively with his men. They still had a little time until this party would take place and Dutch used it to his advantage.
Josiah got to work the next morning. He left the camp dressed in fine clothes and made his way to Saint-Denis. He came up with a strategy and thought about the easiest way to get valuable information. The magician already had a few ideas about it. Making contacts and new friendships were his strengths. Josiah knew how to adapt to any situation. He was very good at fooling people with his charm. What many didn’t know about Josiah was that he was very good at reading a person’s body language. His years of work had helped him to recognize in which situation he had to behave correctly. He could see very well if the person he was talking to was lying or nervous. Sometimes small gestures were enough to recognize this. Once in Saint-Denis, Josiah led his horse in front of the saloon. There he would surely be able to collect some useful information and talking to some gentlemen. He entered the saloon and earned attention from many ladies, but Josiah wasn´t interested. As much as it flattered him, there was only you. You were so much more desirable and beautiful than these women. And this wasn’t just about physical desire - Josiah wanted to get to know you. He wanted to research the secret of this flower and give himself entirely to you. Josiah first sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. He tried his luck and overheard one or the other conversation…
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“I want you to clear this mess in the kitchen before I go!”
Henry was straightening his tie in front of the mirror while you brought him his jacket. You said nothing and you handed him his jacket. Henry had rioted in the kitchen in an outbreak of rage. The breakfast that you had prepared with a lot of effort was no longer edible, as it was spread over the entire kitchen floor. Henry looked at you through the mirror and he narrowed his eyes when you didn’t answer. In his opinion, you became more and more rude against him and he didn’t like that at all. Maybe it should be time to meet you in different manners.
“Do you understand me, Y/N?!”
“Yes…”
You swallow hard and looked down, trying to hide your fear of him.
“Next time you will prepare something decent! Then it won´t happen again in the future!”
Tears burned your pretty eyes and you tried to calm down. You just hoped Henry wouldn’t do more to you that day. He had shouted at you in the kitchen and scolded you. And why? Because he thought your food wasn’t even good enough for pigs.
“I’ll be back in a week. Until then, I hope you get in a better mood! After all, you’re my wife and I want you to do your duties too!” You knew exactly what Henry meant and that made you very nervous. You had often made excuses not to have sex with him because it was just unbearable for you. His touches, his cold and loveless kisses… his rough manner…
Henry turned to you and grabbed your chin, made you look at him and he saw the tears in your eyes. But that didn’t bother him much. On the contrary - he liked it. So it was clearly obvious who was the master in this house.
“Now go! Go and clean up the kitchen!”
When you turn around without a word to leave the room, Henry slapped your buttocks with a firm hand and you closed your eyes in disgust. You couldn’t put into words how much you detested this man…
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“Gentlemen! It was a pleasure. But my lovely wife is waiting for me!”
“We look forward to seeing you at the party, Mister Volpe!”
“Me too, gentlemen!”
Of course, Josiah hadn’t given his real name to these men. These men knew him under the name Giuseppe Volpe. He politely left the three men and left the saloon with a grin. It was a very interesting conversation. He had gotten some things rolling to get himself and his friends to the mayor’s party. Josiah’s charming manner earned him sympathy points and he was very satisfied with his work. He’d had a brandy with a few gentlemen, gathering some useful information. Of course, under the influence of a lot of alcohol, which Josiah had already willingly paid for. He had only drunk a glass of brandy but his new ‘friends’ had drunk a lot more and they had given up a lot about themselves - and had spoken about the party. Dutch would be happy to hear the good news, but he has to wait until tomorrow. Josiah made his way home. He lived in Saint-Denis and also owned a house. Small and cozy and he stayed there most of the time. He lived alone and had no family, but he enjoyed the silence that surrounded him. As he made his way to his home, he thought of you and how much he wanted to see you again. He would send you a letter and he was worried about what he would write to you, after all, he didn’t want to be intrusive or rude. Josiah might be a thief but he was still a gentleman. He entered his home and the first thing he did was take off his dark jacket and shoes. He carefully put this thing in its intended places. He loosened his tie a little as he headed for the living room. It was very quiet in the house and the only thing you could hear was the ticking of the wall clock. Josiah had a cozy interior. Very fancy and he felt most comfortable here. Life in the camp was not very comfortable and so he preferred to sleep in a real bed. Josiah sat down at his desk and picked up a sheet of paper and a pen. As crazy as it sounded, his heart was beating madly and he had to smile about it himself. He was nervous! He was truly nervous. Josiah wanted to find the right words to awaken your curiosity for him. He started writing his words on paper but Josiah had no idea that you already belonged to another man…
After Josiah wrote the letter, he waited for the ink to dry and then carefully folded the paper. Then he put it in an envelope and he smiled contentedly. He would also wait no longer and bring this letter to you immediately. However, Josiah wanted to make it very classic: secretly and without being seen. There was something romantic about it, he thought. Especially since he didn’t want to just stand at your doorstep and ask you for an appointment. So it was easier for you to refuse him without having to be uncomfortable. Of course, Josiah hoped that you would accept his invitation. He hoped to see you soon. And his letter didn’t go unnoticed for long. Because when you opened the letterbox the next day and took the mass of letters in your hands, you immediately noticed a special one. Without a sender address. Only your name was on the envelope. In a nice, clean scripture and you immediately thought that it could be the charming magician. He had already told you that he would be happy to see you again soon. You couldn’t help but grin and you hurried into your house. You carelessly threw the other letters on a side table in the hallway and only took this ominous letter with you.
You drop on the couch in the living room and open the letter with anticipation. You were very excited and you felt your stomach tingle. God, that was like a thousand butterflies flying around in your stomach - and it was a damn nice feeling. You unfold the letter and your eyes sparkle as you read the first lines…
“My dearest Miss Hazard,
please forgive my direct nature. I’m a hopeless romantic and that’s why I write you this letter.
I couldn’t wait for fate to bring our paths together again. Since I met you in Lakay I can´t think of anything else but you and our little adventure. Why don’t we continue our journey? With a walk in the park? Thursday at 10 a.m. I will wait for you if you decide to go on this date. Feel free to ignore my invitation if you don’t want to. But of course, my heart would jump in happiness to see you again.”
Sincerely
Josiah Trelawny
You couldn’t describe in words how happy this letter made you. You pressed the paper to your chest and smiled because the thought of seeing this man again soon was so beautiful. But as much as this thought pleased you, you had to quickly remember that you were a married woman and Josiah believed that you were free. But would he want to meet you if he knew you belonged to another man? You sigh heavily and stroke through your long hair. “What should I do?”
You were lucky that Henry was out of town. Because if Henry had got this letter in his hands, you would have been in big trouble. The thought of it made you shiver briefly. Henry would tear you to pieces if you cheated on him but he was the one who cheated on you all the time. You knew what he was doing on these business trips. You could always smell the scent of another woman on his clothes when he came home. Red lipstick stuck to his shirt collar and that wasn´t unusual.
But you had given up talking to him. You remembered how bad it was for you the first time you caught him cheating on you with prostitutes. He had come home drunk, his hair completely disheveled and red lipstick stuck to his neck and white shirt collar. Back then he had shamelessly told you what he had done to the women in the saloon and that you could never give him what these women gave him. That was over one year ago…
It had destroyed you internally at that time and you would never forget how he hit you the first time - and he had done it again and again. As soon as you said something you didn’t like in your relationship. It was a fact that this marriage was the living hell for you.
No, you had no problem cheating on Henry. If you had the courage you would have run away for a long time. But the fear that one day he would find you kept you from leaving him. But you also knew that you wouldn’t survive this for long. But you also thought of Josiah. It would be so unfair to meet him and let him believe that you were an unmarried girl. You belong to a man you didn’t love and which you hate more than anything else in this world. But your desire to see Josiah again was just too strong. Yes, maybe it was selfish… maybe it wasn’t right. But maybe Josiah had come into your life to make you forget what life you had to live in Saint-Denis. Maybe Josiah would be able to make you forget your worries…
#josiah trelawny#josiah trelawny x reader#josiah trelawny x female reader#rdr2#fanfiction#love#lovers#angst#hurt#comfort#domestic violence
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Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 1.16 (Obsession)
- This episode starts off on a positive note; Lizzie and Miranda are congratulated by their teacher, Miss Moran for a job well done on the food drive they organised at school.
- Lizzie’s parents and Matt are also there and we come to find out that Matt is the new hall monitor in his school. Lizzie makes fun of him because apparently being a hall monitor means being thrown in the trash can a lot. Even Sam can attest to this, based on his past memory:
Those thick rimmed glasses look huge on his tiny head lol
The Science Olympics
- Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda are talking to each other on the phone and Lizzie asks Gordo why he wasn’t at the food drive. He tells them he was busy preparing for the upcoming ‘Science Olympics’ that week, which includes:-
1. Long-distance paper airplane contest
2. The egg drop
3. Slow bicycle race
- Larry Tudgeman has always been the champion of the ‘Science Olympics’ but Gordo is determined to win this year. Lizzie is annoyed because Gordo won’t be able to help them with their next volunteering project. Gordo should be able to do whatever he wants Lizzie. She seems to be a little too headstrong and determined about doing these volunteering projects, which relays back to the title of this episode, ‘Obsession’. In contrast, Miranda isn’t too excited about helping out.
Lizzie’ Recycling Project
- At dinner in the Mcguire household, which they’re having fried chicken with salad served on the side (that looks yummy), Matt is describing to Jo and Sam his day as a school hall monitor and he seems pretty into it. Lizzie arrives a little late for dinner and Matt uses this opportunity to I guess ‘flex’ his hall monitor status and write her a ticket.
I gotta say this again, their fried chicken looks good
- Lizzie has her own announcement to make; She and Miranda are going to start a recycling project at the Digital Bean. She plans to separate out the garbage into plastic, paper and glass. But where’s aluminium/metal? That’s pretty important to sort out too. She is also thinking of implementing this practice in their own home, which doesn’t seem to make her parents too thrilled about the idea.
- We skip straight to the Digital Bean and we see Lizzie and Miranda busy sorting out garbage. Miranda isn’t fond of going through the garbage and I don’t blame her, especially when it’s not your own house garbage. Umm, and why are they not wearing any gloves? That’s just nasty because we don’t even know what’s inside the trash cans of the Digital Bean!
I recommend you two wear some gloves!
- Lizzie goes a little overboard when she’s explaining to Miranda the point of recycling the different items they’re sorting. But I actually like how passionate Lizzie is about saving the planet because this issue is still relevant, even more so today. Plus, seeing how clueless Miranda is about recycling and our Earth, Lizzie is kinda justified in how she’s acting.
Long Time No See Parker!
- As both girls are about to have their lunch, Parker Mackenzie pops up and lets them know how impressed she is with their recycling project.
I didn’t know Parker was a so-called ‘Green Warrior’
- Parker spots Lizzie’s beef burger on the table and starts questioning why she’s going to eat a “poor dead animal’. She then unexpectedly shouts at Lizzie and calls her a ‘meat eater’. This girl has no chill whatsoever. Lizzie now feels bad and thinks she should become a vegetarian from now on.
- My opinion on all of this is simple. If a person wants to go vegan or become a vegetarian, go for it. But please don’t judge those who didn’t make the same decision due to factors like socioeconomic status or health conditions. We all are able to play a part in helping our environment, even meat-eaters like myself. I for one, support sustainable farming practices and will only buy products derived from them. So, just because I eat meat, it doesn’t mean I’m reckless about our planet’s dwindling resources.
Gordo vs Larry
- We switch things over to Gordo’s ‘Science Olympics’ plot and we see Gordo and Larry studying for the upcoming competition in a classroom. They are sitting opposite to one another and are staring down at each other with extreme competitiveness.
The tension between the two looks very deep lol
- Larry is trying to get under Gordo’s skin by reminding him of all the times he lost to him in previous competitions. But Gordo stands up for himself and also does his part to intimidate Larry by saying that he is in his head? Mmkay...
“I own you” The tension is real y’all!
Lizzie Gets Carried Away
Lizzie is taking on another volunteer project and this time, it’s a clothing drive. She’s planning to give away a bunch of her own clothes to the homeless and she’s even gotten to the point where she wants to give away the food that Jo wants to cook. Now that’s pretty extreme...
- Lizzie even gets an attitude when Sam doesn’t sort out the garbage for recycling as she tasked him to do. I love how Sam actually called her out on her behaviour.
- Miranda shows up at the house and she’s proudly modeling her new leather jacket to Lizzie. But Lizzie isn’t happy about this either because leather jackets are made from cows and since Lizzie’s now a vegetarian, she doesn’t support Miranda’s fashion choice. Miranda thinks that Lizzie is totally overreacting and they are at odds with each other once again....
“Fine, so don’t eat my jacket” OMG I’m hollering!
- Miranda finds Gordo in a classroom, who is exhausted from throwing paper airplanes all day and tries to vent to him about Lizzie but he is too focused on the paper airplane competition after school. Suddenly, Lizzie shows up and she’s horrified by all the paper Gordo had used/wasted to test out his airplane designs.
Matt Gets Carried Away
- Well, it seems like being a hall monitor is getting to Matt’s head. He’s been giving people too many citations for no good reason. But judging from the montage I just watched of him giving these citations, they seem appropriate? I mean, the signs on the walls do say “Buckle Up” and “Walk Don’t Run”. So, isn’t Matt just following these rules? Unless, of course, he actually posted those rules himself.
I know that this is a Disney show but that’s a pretty physical thing for a teacher to do to a student.
Lizzie in Burlap
- After a strange ‘cowboy’ style stare-down between Larry and Gordo, we find out that Larry had won the egg drop and Gordo won the long distance airplane contest. Therefore, the slow bicycle race will decide who the winner of the ‘Science Olympics’ is. However, things aren’t looking so good for Gordo because is so sleepy from all the prep he’s been doing.
- Miranda is trying her hardest to get Lizzie to snap out of her over-the-top ‘Let’s Save The Planet’ mindset but she just won’t listen to her. She’s even wearing clothes made out of burlap because it’s eco-friendly. But I think she still looks cute in that outfit.
- They’re about to sit for a pop quiz but Lizzie has something to say to Miss Moran about the way she has printed out their quiz on only one side of the paper. Woah, she’s so brave to talk to her teacher like that. Anyways, she isn’t having any of her attitude and sends Lizzie to pack up her things and go home.
Is this another episode of ‘Bad Girl Mcguire’ or what?
The Mcguire Kids Get Sent Home Early
- As you can see from the title, both Lizzie and Matt are sent home from school earlier than usual because of their respective ‘commitments’. Matt seems to be very power-hungry and he just can’t stand the fact that he isn’t able to issue more citations in school.
- Sam and Jo advise Lizzie to not be so concerned about saving the environment because it’s gotten to the point where she’s alienating everyone around her and not taking care of herself. They want her to pick just one thing to take on and focus on that. Lizzie also admits she’s been a terrible friend to both Miranda and Gordo and she wants to go back to school to support Gordo in the slow bicycle race.
The Slow Bicycle Race
Gordo as an Aerodynamic Elvis Presley
- Next, we are taken to the Slow-Speed Bicycle Race between Gordo and Larry. Both Lizzie and Miranda are there to support Gordo, who is dressed up as Elvis Presley in an aerodynamically designed costume to increase his wind resistance.
- The race begins and Gordo is winning because he’s behind Larry. But, Gordo is starting to become sleepy again and actually falls off his bike just before Larry is about to cross the finish line and lose. This means that Gordo is disqualified from the race, unfortunately.
Poor Gordo! But at least he still looks good after falling
- The last scene is Lizzie apologising to Gordo and Miranda for the way she’s been acting. But Lizzie did leave an impact on Miranda and her family because they’re now cutting up their 6 packs. Larry swoops past them on his bike and makes fun of Gordo’s height but luck did not stay by his side this time because he crashed into something lol.
Overall Thoughts
- The messaging in this episode definitely sticks out to me, which of course is about doing what we can to protect our planet and its resources. Young kids can definitely watch this episode and learn the basics of recycling and sustainability. I respect Lizzie’s commitment to the environment; It’s believable and I like how well-informed she is at that age.
- Obviously, she’s gotten carried away with her efforts but her heart is in the right place. Her parents also taught her a very good lesson of narrowing down her scope and focusing on 1 or 2 projects. Balance of responsibilities is definitely important and so is taking care of yourself.
- Matt’s storyline isn’t so bad because it relates a lot to Lizzie’s. Their story-lines definitely ran in parallel to one another and I like how Sam pointed out to Lizzie that she and Matt have more in common than she thinks. But I don’t think Matt is shown to have learned his lesson unlike Lizzie. Overall, it’s a very good episode.
#lizzie mcguire#hilary duff#disney#disney channel#episode recap#episode review#teen comedy show#obsession#disney plus#early 2000s#old disney channel#disney nostalgia#save the planet#recycle reduce reuse#sustainability#egg drop#science olympics#david gordon#miranda sanchez#matt mcguire#larry tudgeman#eco friendly
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Do not reblog, steal and use as your own.)
Verse 3: Holy Light Corrupted
(tagged as) v Light AU Dark: Holy Light Corrupted
“Who says all light has to be pure? They haven’t met me then.”
This version of Sting happened when he let all of his negative feelings he ever experienced feed into his power that went to his head.
Prelude:
A mysterious voice called from the heavens and those gathered around to discuss about the one that could help or corrupt mankind. All had their own plans for this young boy now in Fiore that would grow into a handsome powerful young man, but the question was which side would he lean more towards?
“After centuries of searching he has been chosen, the one when he comes of age will possess both holy light and darkness to keep balance in the world. His life will be filled with strife, turmoil and hardship and others will envy his might, but he must not stray and give into more then one over the other or else the world will be in peril and a new powerful entity will emerge and rise again to corrupt all.
When Sting was a young kid, he never realized the kind of power he would possess in the future based off the choices he made in his life. Raised by the white dragon Weisslogia, he was deceived to thinking he had to slay him in order to master the abilities of a dragon slayer, but in truth his father manipulated his memories and rested within him to assist in fighting Acnologia and prevent him from becoming a dragon one day. When Sting later discovers the truth that he was lied to, doomed to the fate of having dragonfication and that all the hell he experienced being in Sabertooth could have been prevented had his father told him the truth about his reason for being in the present timeline as well the the hardships of the war that cause him to suffer in more ways then one that nearly killed him, the wrath and resentment within him takes over and puts him on a dark path that he never comes back from. A mysterious voice leads him to this fate and a new entity rises from within; the tyrannical hybrid dark angel, Demon King Abyssal White Dragon Sting; corrupter of souls.
His objective:To test, influence, manipulate and eventually have humans destroy themselves with their own choices using the seven deadly sins: wrath, envy, gluttony, greed, sloth, pride and lust.
“You are mightier. All are beneath you. Defeat them!”
Through out his time in Sabertooth, Sting was a solider of a high caliber (Captain class) and did nothing but follow his master Jiemmas’ orders. During those seven years he became very disciplined, ruthless, sadistic and power hungry in order to keep pleasing his guild master for that he would never end up being expendable and his power would keep growing. Others that weren’t in Sabertooth were considered scum and not worth his time. Sting relished beating up Natsu and Gajeel in the Magic Games for all to see when he entered his state of Dragon Force and knocked them both unconscious for a limited amount of time. Within his mind his inner voice told him to only give into his pride and anger and so he did.
“Kill that bastard. Make him suffer like no other!”
When the Twin Dragons in Dragon Force both were harmed and defeated by the hands of Natsu on his own, Sting’s bitterness, doubt, and fear grew within his mind especially when he was physically and verbally abused and humiliated by Jiemma. Something in him snapped when he thought he had lost his exceed and best friend Lector whom he thought his guild master Jiemma had killed him. In a violent rage, Sting blasted light through the bastard’s chest hoping to end his life in the most intense and painful way imaginable. Luckily Lector, his exceed was saved, but he was blackmailed by Minerva, Jiemma’s daughter to win the magic games to get him back. Sting promised at all costs he would get even went and went as far to take great delight when she lost to Erza making him the remaining member left of Sabertooth. He wanted her to suffer and anyone else that dared to hurt him in anyway.
“Pathetic. No one shall get in your way. They will all see that in due time.”
Sting when faced with the 5 remaining members of Fairy Tail that were brutally injured savored their suffering by taunting them, but only yielded to give them the win in hope to get Lector back. He didn’t care if they were all beaten to a pulp earlier. They deserved it in his mind. All that mattered was Lector’s safe return and once they were reunited he swallowed his pride for the time being to aide Fairy Tail later on to fight the dragons from the Eclipse Gate, but never dismissed the fact of them being better then him, When faced with the fact he never fought a dragon before and that his magic at first didn’t effect the beast, he felt discouraged and had to reevaluate his priorities and become more powerful. He would rise in power and be greatly influenced as time passed.
“You are in control now. Show no mercy to idiots.”
“After the return of the dragons back to their time period, Sting became the new Guild Master of Sabertooth and was respected by his peers. He was feared by everyone outside of it such as the people of Crocus due to his notorious reputation and the might and power they witnessed in the Magic Games. During that time he trained and held onto his grudge having his negative feelings to give him that motivation to push himself to new heights. When he was notified by a letter written by Erza to tell him of Minerva’s where abouts and that she had joined the Dark Guild Tautros, Rogue and him rushed to the scene to get her back from remaining in the dark guild and had to fight the infamous demon Mard Geer from one of Zeref’s the dark wizard’s books. Sting’s dark ambitions and goals further increased to surpass those who challenged him.
“How dare he lie to you. These fools will get what is coming to them.”
His fears were then realized to find himself helpless when Acnologia as a dragon made himself known in the skies. Sting’s heart palpitated violently in his chest along with Rogue and the other dragon slayers that were raised by dragons not knowing at the time, that his father was waking up within him. To discover Jiemma his former master had become a demon and wanted to exact revenge upon him and Rogue was also a huge factor that fed into his fears and anger. The twin dragons were victorious and later on witnessed Zeref mention part of his plot. Lastly, when the demons were going to wipe out ethernano and kill all of the mages with magic deficiency illness with the faces project, the dragons from within the dragon slayers emerged and told the truth about their reason for being in the present timeline. Sting on the surface was confused and grateful, but this was merely a facade for the inner turmoil he felt brewing up within him for the deception and how different his life could have been had his father not lied to him.
“You can rise from this fate. You will get stronger. Remember that.”
With his father no longer in his body and no more antibodies to prevent the dragon seed (dragonfication) from growing, Sting’s magic flourished with his training while working out his anger through brutal sessions as he reminded himself he had to get more powerful for his authority as a leader and to surpass others. His negativity also reached a new plateu as he never had forgiven what he had endured. When the war happened between the Alvarez Empire, he reached a new low and entered a deep depression furthering the changes of dragonfication going on within him. Having been ambushed and crucified, he once more had to be rescued by Fairy Tail, the guild that in his mind that mocked him. The voice would remind him all the time that he was to weak and he had so much to overcome.
“You’re better then this. Show no mercy. Your time will come.”
To make matters worse at his lowest point of doubting himself as a leader and having a nervous breakdown of losing lives in his charge, Yukino from his guild slaps him in the face to bring him back to his senses. For a moment he is stunned and his pride shot to pieces, but after hearing her plea to be the leader he needs to be he vows vengeance to have anyone from his guild who could still fight take out as many enemies as possible. A more powerful villain shows up only to relocate him from his group. Luckily he comes back just in time to save the life of Yukino from a horrible fate. He then squares off against the one known as Larcade who puts him through Hell and back by testing his resolve further increasing his wrath to kill him. Sting overcomes the magic of pleasure by eating it since it is white and light and adds to his own power to use his more powerful spells without much effort.
#v Light AU Dark: Holy Light Corrupted#sting's third verse will be considered the main verse until November 2nd#all new rp posts memes threads and questions will be answered in this verse#head canons for this verse will be posted everyday#under read more due to length#light queue post
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Congratulations, MINNIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of MIRANDA. Admin Rosey: Miranda, our little cherubic child. You capture her essence, her damning purity and naivety with every word you write. Your future plots for her had us by the heart, as you well know, and we can’t wait to see what you do with her. Maeve is our little starlight and our one spot of hope in a quickly deadening world. But what can be one person’s hope, can be another’s vice. And you hint at all that in your writing, your beautiful writing, and more. Take heart, and take care of her. Or let us ruin her. It’s your pick .Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.
WELCOME TO THE MOB.
Out of Character
Alias | Minnie, for consistency’s sake.
Age | 22
Preferred Pronouns | She/Her
Activity Level | With a full-time job and a social life, I can’t promise to be the most active member! But I adore Maeve and my muse has never been more alive than with her so I expect a lot more activity from me in this roleplay. My aim is to write replies every other day.
Timezone | EST
Current/Past RP Accounts | RIP Maeve 1.0
In Character
Character | Miranda/Maeve Petre. My entire heart.
What drew you to this character? | There is just something about Maeve’s purity and idealism that seals the deal for me. I love that she fights her battles with love and her nearly blind hope. There is no one quite like Maeve, with all of her ideals and passion, all of her drive, this ferocity that comes from her dreaming. She is more than just soft and idealistic; she is brave and determined and so, so fearless. I love my lion-hearted girl who speaks and looks and dreams like a flower. You call her a fool -- I call her a muse. The girl who might, will, inspire an army to join her cause. A modern Joan of Arc who rides into war with a banner in hand and her heart on her sleeve, her heart as her armor.
What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |
I. I love Maeve’s relationship with her father and will never stop writing about it. One thing I would love to write is Maeve and Philip going on a mission together, possibly to train Maeve. Just as Philip hated to see Maeve join the Capulets, Maeve hated to learn her Father was already a Capulet. It’s always hard to work with your parents, but to work with your single father in a mob? Entirely new can of worms.
Although I’m very happy with how Maeve’s relationship with her father progressed in round one (recap: her father was in a coma at the time of Maeve’s death, and Maeve was fighting to keep him alive by trying to murder her morals), I’m excited to see how it might take different turns in round two! I do plan on keeping Maeve’s father an integral part of her development if I were accepted; I don’t know if it’s possible not to incorporate Philip closely into Maeve’s development.
II. My personal headcanon is that Maeve didn’t realize that Santino Gallo was aligned with the Montagues when they met. I would love to explore the implications and consequences of their acquaintanceship. Has anyone seen them, would anyone use that as blackmail against them? I also believe that Maeve or Santino have not approached the subject of peace between the Montagues and the Capulets; a friendship with the enemy is a fragile thing, and peace is even more fragile still. I want to see how their friendship would develop especially in the midst of conflict, and how Santino might influence Maeve’s ideals. Right now, she thinks it’s proof of peace, but Santino is not a major player in the Montague puzzle if we’re being honest. At the end of the day, they’re both pawns, mere soldiers. So will she use him to reach other Montagues above the two of them? Or will Santino become an emblem of cruelty done to her family, blood and found? I want to know!
III. Maybe this is the masochist in me saying this, but I would love for Maeve to be given a violent assignment: to hurt someone or to kill someone. Sure, a knife is a great weapon for threats when you are stalking the streets in the middle of the night — but what happens when all sides against her are pressing her to make good on her threats? What happens when the fight for peace is not possible without violence?
Before Maeve died, Orion had manipulated her into killing someone to save his narcissistic self - but I’m very interested in seeing this assignment given by the Capulets. I’d like for the Capulets to intentionally push her as far as she can go, to do more than just force people to make good on their payments. I’d like Maeve to be sent to the grittiest, dirtiest job they can find and see what ends up happening. I’d like to actively pursue the relationship between Maeve and the Capulets in plots, especially bringing Philip into play. To use Philip as a bargaining chip with Maeve. Even better, to use Maeve as a bargaining chip with Phlip. I don’t know, I have a lot of ideas with this father/daughter relationship and love to play them out.
IV. If you recall, I had a headcanon that Maeve’s mother died in the middle of a Montague deal gone wrong. Maeve doesn’t know how her mother died, and I’m still mad that I never got the chance to see this plot through and use it to test her loyalty and ideals. I want this war for Maeve to become personal, and not just because the war stole her father. No, it stole her mother too. Both Capulet and Montague have done Maeve a deep injustice, and I’d like to see how this compares to the war between mobs. She joined the Capulets for her father — but what will she do for her mother? How will she honor Maria and avenge her death?
V. There is potential in how well Maeve loves and how easily she wins hearts. There is power in it, if only someone would untap it. See it. Harness it. Manipulate it, manipulate her. The girl who gives to the hungry and passes flowers out on the streets is a far cry from the typical Capulet; and don’t they say that the element of surprise is key to winning battles? Whether it’s the Capulets who decide to manipulate Maeve or an individual or even the Montagues, I’d love to see Maeve become something of a pawn. Of course, as Maeve’s biggest fan, I’d also like to see her rise above it - but at what cost? Who knows :)
VI. I would also like to see how the desire for more power blossoms within Maeve. She wants change, so she must gain influence, and to gain influence is to gain power. But at what cost? Will she ever learn to bite her tongue, my sweet flower, and learn other methods of fighting for what she wants? With Catherine and Everett specifically, I’d like them to inspire her to rise the ranks. I’d like them to teach her how to rise above her station as a soldier.
Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | I DID IT ONCE AND I WILL DO IT AGAIN
In Depth
In-Character Interview:
What is your favorite place in Verona?
“Of all the questions, you chose the most difficult to answer,” she says, smiling as she folds her fingers around the cup of coffee in her hands. There is a beat of silence between them as she takes a moment to think, to run over the list in her head of the most beautiful and peaceful places in her city — until suddenly, she straightens.
“How could I forget?!” Maeve exclaims, eyes bright and merry. “The best place to see the Verona sunset. Oh, it’s so beautiful, the way the light catches the water before the sun slips right beneath it. If you stand right at the center of the Castelvecchio Bridge, you can just imagine the world falling asleep.”
Maeve sighs romantically before she takes a small sip of her coffee, contemplating her next words. “It is a shame that it is so difficult to make our way there.” And then — without warning, without fanfare — her eyes sharpen imperceptibly. “Or more difficult still, to cross it.”
What does your typical day look like?
What has been your biggest mistake thus far?
What has been the most difficult task asked of you?
What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?
A fire ripples beneath Maeve’s skin, igniting every bit of spark in her eyes. She becomes a bush burning, something holy and dangerous; and when she leans forward, it’s as if the flames spread from her eyes to the table, to the person asking, to all of Verona.
But it does not scorch or sting; no, Maeve’s fire is warm and nurturing, a symbol of life without ashes.
“Before we kill each other, it will kill us.” A shadow comes over her features and it looks strange on eyes so bright. “There are so many reasons to choose peace over war, but… but maybe the most important one is that every day, we lose bits and pieces of ourselves to this hatred — not to mention the people we love. This is not the way to honor the fallen. Avenging death with death is an unending circle that will continue even after the world is blind and we are all lost.”
“But Verona is so much more than that,” Maeve insists, brimming with hope. “If you just take a step back and look at this city, you’ll see so much beauty. The people we talk to every morning, the stores we’ve been shopping at for all of our lives… We might know some of the darkest parts of Verona, but I think if we only… took a second to step back and look at all we have to lose, we will realize that peace is the best way to honor Verona, to honor the dead and to honor the people we would die for.”
Maeve smiles kindly, knowing the reaction her speeches usually receive. If she believed any less, then she might be sorry — but her ideals are too important, and she will be damned if she even considers apologizing for them. “I know that this might be hard to understand. We have lived like this for so long, maybe even without realizing it. But I do believe there is hope. For Verona, for all of us. There is a brighter day coming; I just know it.”
In-Character Para Sample:
I. A DIARY ENTRY
A long time ago, I was afraid of the night. I can’t tell you how or when it began, but I have carried this childish fear with me for too many years to count. I thought it was a part of me, just another piece of the puzzle that had no origin and no explanation. There was so much that I did not understand: my father, my mother, the world I so longed to see.
But one day, I thought. One day, I might understand it all.
A long time ago, I was afraid of the night, but I loved it, too. When the sun had set and the light had all but faded, the sound of the one you love coming home would ring out like church bells on a spring morning; the smell of cigarettes would hold tightly to the air like an embrace after a long, weary voyage.
For the night brought many terrors, but it had some comforts, too; didn’t all nightmares end with the whispered comforts of I am here, stella mia, I am here and the day will come and the monsters are only bad thoughts who have overstayed their welcome?
A long time ago.
A long time ago, I only thought of my father returning; I did not know and did not even think to question where he was returning from.
I shall never forget the emptiness of his eyes. I shall never forget the tired droop of his shoulders, the black silhouette of his that seemed so familiar at night. I shall never forget the silver in his hair, which I had not seen before until the moonlight brought its cruel light to every secret I had not considered.
I tried, very hard, to forget the red. I chose to remember the rest, the cold silver and black and blue of it all — but the red, I desperately tried to forget. But I could not let go of the scarlet, as hard as I tried.
I… had a reason for staying up waiting, for running to see him. I can’t remember it now, but — there was a reason.
Oh, I remember. I wanted to read him a poem.
I was a child.
He did not say a single word that night. He shook his head, ever so slightly, and walked away.
Papà. Beloved Papà.
The burden of knowing and still not fully understanding has haunted me since. For even after seeing him in the silver and black and blue and red, Papà merely patted my cheek and sent me on my flowery way. I felt so small, so strange, as if I could hardly recognize myself.
He told me that when I was older, I would understand. I wanted to tell him that I have been waiting my entire life to understand. Even as a child, I so yearned to know about the mother I didn’t remember, and I never received an answer. It pained Papà to hear talk of her, and it pained me to see him weep. So I stopped, but I always wondered, and I always dreamed of a woman’s soft hands and laughing eyes.
I never told him this… and maybe if his secret had been softer, forgiveness would have come so easily. I can empathize with shielding the one you love from pain.
But not like this. Not like Papà did. It wasn’t just his secrecy that wounded me deep to the bone; it was the secret itself. I would never have imagined Papà, who was my entire sun and sky, to be… like that.
It wasn’t just the fact that I didn’t know everything about him. It was that when he came home in scarlet, I didn’t recognize him at all. It was that I loved him still, even with my shattered heart.
I have made peace with this. It might seem strange to you that I can say with full confidence that I have forgiven Papà and that I still love him as my own sun and sky, after writing all of this. But I have. My love for him is stronger than any betrayal, and even that night cannot steal that from us.
These thoughts are so much louder these days because tomorrow, I will be a Capulet soldier. I am older now, just like Papà said, and I must know why Papà ran to their shadows all those years ago. For I have come to the conclusion that to love someone is to know them.
Tomorrow, I will know. Tomorrow, I will begin to understand.
Or so I hope.
II.
Each night, Maeve held her bleeding heart in hand and tucked it under her arm to keep it warm while the wind howled. Be still, my heart; the sun will rise again, and the war will be ours to win.
Because it was a war, though not the one the Capulets enlisted her for. No matter what they told her, Maeve chose her own battles, and she was determined to fight for peace until it was Verona’s triumph — for she had no other choice, for the only alternative was to lose her father and her home to blood and guns.
From the shadows, a man appeared: her target. Her mission was to retrieve the full payment for an order placed exactly one month ago. He was a new, and thus unreliable, client, and therefore needed extra… encouragement to pay the Capulets in full.
The job fell to Miranda, who had never run a solo mission before. Though she might be green, she was confident; she had impressed the others with her sheer will, if not her skill with the knife. They might not take her seriously yet, but they would, for Maeve was determined to make her voice heard.
“They tell me you’re called Miranda,” the man said.
“Yes.”
The street lights cast a sharp shadow on the cruel crook of his lips, the sharp slant of his brows. “They also tell me that you are here for my money.”
Maeve stepped forward, the softness of her eyes coming to view. “That’s true.”
“They sent a pretty girl like you,” he moved closer, “alone in the middle of the night?”
“Is that so strange?” She adjusted her grip on the knife hidden in a sheath inside her sleeve.
“Not strange,” the man shook his head, “dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Maeve offered a kind smile as she continued to run her fingers along the knife, wondering if she needed to bring it forward. Hoping she wouldn’t. “I appreciate the concern, but I think you know that we don’t send soldiers into battle unprepared.”
“What battle, girl?” His laugh was unexpected and rang false in the night, too carefree to be true. “You think I don’t have the money? You think I won’t pay?”
“I don’t think anything. I’m here on orders, and orders alone, to retrieve payment in full for the last transaction.” Not so blunt and straightforward, Maeve reminded herself of the meticulous training she’d received, every word veiled, every intention in the shadows. But she had never been one to hide her heart’s meaning.
He spat onto the ground. “It’s all about money with you folks.”
“Not all of us — but you did make a promise, sir, and you must honor it. It is the gentlemanly thing to do.”
The man fell silent for a moment, and when he spoke, it was with the barest hint of vulnerability. “So you think I’m a gentleman, huh?”
“I assume all men are gentlemen until they prove otherwise,” Maeve said gently.
Her compassion seemed to ease the man out of appearances; a look of panic came over his face, wild and dangerous. “What if I told you I didn’t have the money?” A tremble shook through every word.. “What would they do to me, then?”
She wanted desperately to reassure him, to tell them that she was only a soldier, new and inexperienced and unknowledgeable. But it was not that Maeve did not know; it was that she did not agree. For how could Maeve threaten (or worse) a man who, in that moment, seemed so human?
“I… don’t think you want to know,” she finally answered. And though she tried to keep her expression neutral, sympathy leaked out of her like she was a broken faucet and there was nothing she could do to stop the flood.
Weak, she imagined them saying.
The man groaned and threw his hands in the air. “I had the money, I swear I had it. But then that bastard got me drunk and the women were so pretty…”
Maeve sighed and loosened her grip on her knife. There would be heavy consequences to bear for her next words, but there was nothing else she could do. For her heart was soft and could not bear to harm another. “I will do my best to grant you an extension.”
The man breathed out a long sigh of relief. “Thank you, thank you. You are kind, Miranda, kinder than I deserve. Tell them that I will have it immediately, I only need a little more time. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Please,” Maeve let a hint of desperation show in her tone, “don’t do this again. The next time, you will not be forgiven so easily.” With a nod and a faint smile, she turned and walked away from the now-incoherent man.
She would pay for this later — but nothing worth having came without a price.
III. This is an old self-para written during DiVerona 1.0, but I loved writing the back-and-forth of Maeve and Philip so I had to include it here.
“cazzo,” philip petre spits as he glares at his reflection, “the colosseum will be burned to the ground before i ever get this right.”
maeve petre glides over to her father and clicks her tongue. “papà, don’t curse,” she scolds as slim fingers move deftly about his tie, folding and pulling neatly without effort. when it lies perfectly against his suit, maeve smiles proudly at her father and pats her handiwork fondly. “see, now there is no need to destroy the history of italy tonight.”
he frowns at her as if she is dangerous, but his eyes betrays the warmth only a father might understand. “grazie, stella mia.” his gaze trails down, from the gentle strands of hair that frame her eyes, her lashes barely touched with mascara, her smiling mouth — her bare skin, illuminated by the silver of her dress that drapes itself over her slender frame like it is a rare joy to touch her. a flicker of irritation passes over philip’s features; he is unused to seeing his daughter dressed like a woman, with naked shoulders and full breasts. “you look beautiful,” he says begrudgingly; for it is true, she looks beautiful — perhaps too much so.
maeve swallows her laughter at her papà’s obvious discomfort. “grazie di cuore.” and like the little girl she often pretends she is, she spreads her arms wide and spins, the skirt of her dress flying about her as she dreams she can fly. “do you think it is too much?”
“it is a horse race,” her father answers dismissively, waving a hand in the air emphatically. “nothing is too much.”
“oh, i hope so,” maeve says, as earnest as ever. this is her first horse race; her father never allowed her to attend before. (a place of gambling is no place for a star, they will pluck you from the sky and crush you in their hand. only the most wicked of men understand true value — and you, stella mia, are too special to be considered anything less than valuable; how papà loved to see the best in his daughter.)
and how excited she is! to see so many people congregated in one place, for one purpose, underneath the same sun. she cannot imagine such glory, such joy. philip watches his daughter blossom with anticipation and wonders (privately, guiltily) if she will ever understand the impossibility of so complete a happiness.
in a rare moment of thoughtlessness, of carelessness with his daughter’s heart, philip says, “you want too much, maeve. you must learn to control your desires, to limit them — lest you be hurt.”
like someone has grabbed her petals and angrily tore them off, maeve winces. she has heard this before, but not from her father, who does not lecture her often. philip petre is a guilt-ridden man, a vengeful man who cannot usually see past his own emptiness and into his daughter’s heart.
“is peace so greedy to ask for?” she whispers.
“not greedy,” her father murmurs. he lifts her chin with his knuckles. “foolish. voracious. your eyes are bigger than your stomach, stella mia.” he offers a small smile like he is at the altar praying for a second chance, for some redemption that is not often given. “you must learn to be content with only what you need, and what is available to you.”
maeve studies her father, searches her own heart, wonders if the world is wrong and jaded or if she is as everyone says: small, stupid, naive. the answer lies on the tip of her tongue, at the very brink of all the secrets of the universe she hungers for (your eyes are bigger than your stomach). and she knows that the truth lies in the bruise on her cheek, the hollowness of her father’s eyes, the scars they all carry with them —
but truth still turns its cheek away from maeve, still scurries away and hides from her devouring curiosity.
she smiles up at her father and kisses the hand still beneath her chin. “come, papà. let us go to the race, and forget our troubles.”
when she turns away and heads towards the door, her father sighs. “trouble rarely allows us to forget,” he mutters beneath his breath as he follows after her: his daughter, stella mia, who he ought to protect but does not understand how to even begin.
Extras:
Headcanons:
I. PHILIP. I know that I wrote a para sample from Philip’s perspective, which might be unusual, but I thought it was important to see Maeve from her father’s perspective. That being said, Philip’s portrayal in that para sample is all a headcanon. If the admins choose to create a character for Philip in the future, the para sample is easily ignored!
The part that is most important from the para sample is that Maeve chose to put her father first. Though she wanted to know about her mother desperately, Maeve did her best to shield Philip from any more pain. She loved him and looked up to him and wanted him to be happy; and Philip loved Maeve in return.
The two had a generally playful relationship; Maeve teased her father and pretended to nag him, and he was gruff and loving and protective of her. They were close, with a genuine partnership between them.
One night, Maeve stayed up to read her father a poem that reminded her intensely of him — a poem about love and loss written in the stars.
It would be her first heartbreak.
For so long, her father had been her world — and then her world collapsed in on itself, because it turned out that she didn’t know her father at all. She felt helpless and, for the first time in her life, hopeless. The betrayal went deep, and the pain went deeper still.
They repaired their relationship after many difficult conversations, for Maeve refused to shy away from the matter; the truth was that she knew who her father was, and she refused to let herself or her father run away from it. But she forgave him, because her love was greater than the betrayal. (After all, he was the only family she really had left.)
After she joined the Capulets, their relationship was a little unbalanced again for a little while. It was months before Philip was willing to accept the entirety of Maeve for who she was, just as she had accepted the entirety of her father for who he was. She was both his daughter and a woman with a zeal for peace and a passion for love and hope and all things just. And Philip — Philip was a man with secrets and darkness, but very much good, too.
II. MARIA. It was a drug deal gone wrong, a matter of Montague proportions. It was in the deepest part of the night, when all of Verona knew better than to roam — but Maria never listened when she ought to. No one would ever know why Maria was out of her bed so late at night; not even her husband, who would spend years searching for the answer in liquor. When guns were raised and shots were fired, sweet mother Maria fell to the ground in red.
It was many years before Philip learned who shot his wife. Whispers told him it was a drug deal, and he assumed it was merely that, a business transaction between arbitrary civilians that had gone wrong. And then he learned, from a stranger in black who bought him an awfully expensive drink, that it had been one of the Montagues. He didn’t know who exactly, had no name or face to go by, but the word Montague was all he needed. Philip knew exactly where to go for his revenge. The stranger offered a small window of opportunity that shined favorably upon the Capulets, and from then on, Philip’s path was set.
As for Maeve, her mother was always a mystery. Whenever Maeve tried to learn who Maria was, her father disappeared momentarily into the heartbreak of losing her, and became just a shell of the Papà she loved. So instead of asking, she buried her curiosities and focused all of her heart’s energy onto her father. She adored him, was devoted to him, loved him to all end. He was her mother and father, all at once — and Maeve told herself that one day, she would learn the truth about Maria Petre.
III. KNIVES. When Philip first handed her a 9mm Glock 17, Maeve’s hands shook as she forced her fingers to wrap around the grip. He put his hands on her shoulders and methodically explained just how to use a weapon, and when he stepped back, she knew it was not in her. She turned to her father with silent tears already staining her cheeks and pushed the weapon back into his hands. Papà, a gun is for killing, she said gently, and I am not a killer.
But to be a Capulet was to wield a weapon like a musical instrument, a paintbrush, a masterpiece; so Maeve chose the knife, for at least it was more than just violence. I cooked for you with this, Papà, and perhaps I will cook for you with these knives, as well. Just like her, a knife could be both sharp and soft, it could be used for bad and good. It all depended on her choice, and Maeve knew that she would always choose good.
IV. NIGHTMARES. The nightmares began not too long after Papà came home with another man’s blood on his clothes. They have quieted since and only reappear during times of stress.
Sometimes, she would follow her father at night, watching him bring a gun to people’s heads and shooting. The gun never made a sound in her nightmares.
Other nights, Maeve would go running to her father’s arms, embracing his legs tightly, only to look up and realize with horror that the man she was embracing was not her father, but a stranger with evil eyes and a sinister grin.
And even worse still, Papà never came home; she waited for him all through the night and all through the day. Eventually, a man dressed in black and silver and red came to her door and explained that Philip Petre was missing, and presumed dead. When they left, the door clicked shut, and then clicked locked, and Maeve was utterly alone.
V. DOMESTICITY. Who would keep proud, macho Philip Petre alive, after Maria was dead? They all wondered, and they all never expected the unknown hero to be Maeve. She was so young, but even as a little girl, Maeve had the heart of a lion. She marched to her neighbor’s door, knocked politely, and said sweetly, “Will you come cook for me and Papà?”
And so it went, with Maeve forsaking her pride for her father’s sake, until she was old enough to take care of him herself. She learned to dote on him: which meals he favored, which questions he loved to answer, which story lifted his spirits. She loved playing homemaker, and she was good at it too. There was nothing that made her happier than to see Papà well-fed and well-loved, as she believed he deserved, as she believed everyone deserved. Most nights, she made too much food and went to the streets to give it to the hungry.
VI. CLOTHING. You can find some of her style choices in the Pinterest board, but I think this is the best example of Maeve’s style. I imagine Maeve in long skirts (be it a plain skirt or a dress), airy and modest and free. I imagine her walking through gardens looking like one of the flowers herself, with the wind careening itself around her legs with each step.
VII. ROMANCE. Soldiers have little time for romance, but once upon a time, Maeve was not a soldier. She was a true romantic, falling in love with strangers on the street, dreaming of who they might be, their passions and their dreams. She might have lacked the courage to talk to them, but there were many boys and girls Maeve found herself attracted to. But she was always too busy taking care of herself and her father to truly begin a relationship with someone, even if she would have liked.
But there was a boy, once. His name was Ferdinand, and he was always at the library whenever Maeve went. They only had a few conversations, but they lasted for hours and made Maeve’s heart blossom with the purest of affections. But one day, he stopped coming to the library, and after a brief moment of disappointment, she carried on and continued her love affair with Verona. (If you guys plan on incorporating Ferdinand into the roleplay as a character, then this is definitely not necessary to keep as a headcanon!)
VIII. DAY JOB. Maeve works at a local flower shop in Verona, making conversation with the regulars and reading a book when the shop is slow. It’s a nice way to pass the hours, and she’s been there for so many years that it’s become a second home.
IX. FAVORITES. Maeve’s favorite flowers are violets, which stand for loyalty, devotion, and faithfulness. Her favorite color changes with the hour, based on whatever inspires her in that moment. Her favorite time of day is a few minutes before sunset for the way her heart flutters with anticipation of another beautiful sight, a reminder that though the night is near, there is still beauty to be found as darkness approaches. She loves bracelets and rings but stays away from necklaces, for there’s nothing more graceful than a bare neck. She wears skirts because she likes the way they float when she spins. She likes her coffee with plenty of cream and a little bit of sugar.
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Being Tony Stark’s Daughter and Dating Peter Parker Would Include (Part 2):
Summary: Just dating Peter… and being Tony’s daughter.
Authors Note: This was highly requested in the comments and I really enjoyed making the last one, so here ya go! <3
Warning(s): swearing and deadpool (again)
Being Tony Stark’s Daughter and Dating Peter Parker Would Include (Part 2):
•y'all “tis about to get wilD
•you and peter have a stable relationship™
-y'all don’t really fight
-if you do it’s something stupid
-“I CANT BELIEVE YOU ATE THE LAST BROWNIE, THE AUDACITY, I AM DISGUSTED, YOUR BEHAVIOUR IS ATROCIOUS”
-“ I’m lactose intolerant Peter”
-“YOU ARE A TERRIBLE- wait you are?!?!”
-“HAHAHA SIKE” *cue you running away with the last brownie*
•Tony usually mediates your fights.
-he doesn’t want his spiderlings to be sad.
-not good for his representation in the ‘approving dad’ world
-“(Y/N) I suggest you give Peter back his brownie”
-“I ate it”
-*tony giving you the scolding parent look*
-“what do you want me to do? Shit it out?”
-*cap bursts through the door* “LANGUAGE (Y/N)
•peter still uses pickup lines on you
-“my Spidey sense isn’t the only thing that’s tingling”
-“peter do you know what that means?”
-“yes it means I feel all tingly and happy when I’m around you”
-“BOiIi”
-he clearly gets these from Wade
•peter going on dad dates with Tony
-“I can’t believe you remembered our anniversary”
-“I could never forget it Mr Stark”
-“um Peter…you’re dating me?”
-“This is an A B conversation (Y/N) leave”
-your dad and Peter have probably been on more dates with each other than Peter has with you.
•you and peter are always together
-the avengers freak out when you aren’t.
-“WHERE IS THE LOCATION OF BROTHER PETER?? HAS HE JOINED THE DECEASED??? I SHALL AVENGE YEE MAN OF SPIDER”
-“Thor chill… he went to the bathroom”
•Peter always has his hands on you
-whether it’s holding hands, or he’s touching your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist.
-he likes to know that you’re always there.
•hUgS frOm BehInD
-y'all this is the only time Peter feels like he’s the big spoon
-he’ll rest his chin on your head and your back will be pressed to his chest
-aw™
•peter using his height to his advantage
-he’ll hide your things in high places
-so you call for help
-usually ends in you standing on him to get what you want.
•HICKieS yO
-it happened when you first showed Peter your room
-Tony told you to leave the door open but y'all didn’t let that bother you ;)
-“YOU HAVE TAINTED MY YOUNG PETER HE WILL NEVER BE THE SAME”
-“ father why do you not express this concern for me”
-“it’s because you’re the devils spawn”
•finally perfecting that spiderman kiss
-“WE FINALLY DID IT”
-“HELLS YEAH”
-“how do I get down?”
- *cue peter’s web snapping*
•stealing Peter’s clothes
-old and new
-he leaves a sweater at your place?
-BAM it’s yours
-buys a new shirt?
-BaM It’s yours
-he eventually runs out of clothes
-Tony buys him a new wardrobe
•having a meme group chat with Ned
-sending memes about spiderman
-peter regrets introducing you to Ned
•going on dates to the zoo
-Peter taking pictures of you admiring things
-a passerby reports Peter to the security guard for looking like a creep
-your dad has to bail peter out
•whenever peter loses you in a large group of people he always knows how to find you.
-“yo Pete where’s your girlfriend?”
-“hold on one sec” *shakes wallet*
-“DID I HEAR MONEY?!?!”
-“found her”
•spoiling peter bc you're filthy rich and he deserves the world
-“happy birthday baby!!”
-“(Y/N) is that a car???”
-*you smiling uncontrollably*
-”(Y/N) I can’t drive’’
-’’Its a keepsake’’
•convincing your dad to take peter on missions.
-instantly regretting it bc peter is a soft boi who needs protection.
-“If you die on this mission, I will kill you”
-updating the suit bc you must protec™
-“I’ve added extra padding to your suit to soften any falls”
-he literally cannot breathe now
•accidentally admitting that Tom Holland is your celebrity crush.
-“but we look exactly alike??”
-“don’t be ridiculous Peter, you look nothing alike”
•dates to museums and science exhibitions
-watching peter nerd out
-v cute™
•going out with Liz and Michelle for girls nights
-peter dropping in on you as part of ‘patrol’
-almost activating ‘instant kill mode’ when a guy talks to you
•you putting on the suit just to talk to Karan
-“am I the only one that thinks Peter smells like avocado? Like does he even eat avocado?”
-“I too have detected this unusual scent Ms Stark”
•Peter freaks tf out when you get sick
-like mental break down freak out
-he googles your symptoms
-which means he always thinks your dying.
-“I DIDNT KNOW WHAT SOUP YOU LIKED SO I BROUGHT ALL OF THEM USING YOUR DADS CREDIT CARDS”
-he brought like 50 tins of soup
-will not let you leave his sight
-“Peter I need to take a dump”
-“I’ll come with you”
•Wade is always crashing your dates
-he thinks you guys are friends
-“Wade will you ever leave us alone?”
-“Of course Peetie! When (Y/N)’s father accepts my adoption papers”
-“Why would a grown ass man need adopting?”
-“It’s to fund my expensive lifestyle”
-Wade also steals Peter’s wallet so he has an excuse to come along.
-eventually getting a restraining order on Wade.
•Star Wars marathons
-you thinking Luke Skywalker is hot
-Peter getting jealous
-he dresses up like Luke the next day.
•he finds your old spiderman fan account on tumblr
-when he does he just stares at you smugly from across the room.
-“what?”
-“oh nothing” ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)
-he starts texting you the ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º) face.
-“so you bet spiderman is one sexy specimen under that mask?" ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)
-you want to die
-"I will delete you from my life”
•going to Starbucks for your anniversary dates
•peter insisting you have him on speed dial just incase anything happens
-you mostly use it to get food
-“hi”
-“(Y/N)??? Are you okay??”
-“I’ll have a double cheeseburger and fries please.”
-“(Y/N) pls”
-“what? I’m hungry”
-“may I remind you that I am not supposed to be used for ordering take out”
-“then what the fuck are you supposed to be?”
-“your boyfriend”
-“oh yes that too”
•you wear matching outfits to school sometimes
-you are the power couple of the school
•taking Tony’s car for a joy ride
-crashing it bc peter gets nervous and webs up the windscreen
-it’s all good tho
-you use his card to buy a new one
-and blame it on Wade
•cute goodmorning texts
-“make sure to brush your teeth, you have terrible morning breath xox ~ (Y/N)
-"please brush your hair today, yesterday you looked like a yeti that had been run over and drowned in toilet water <3 Peter”
•everyone noticing how whipped Peter is for you
-except you
-peter doesn’t even know what that means he’s so outdated
•Peter has coffee mornings with Steve
-you’re never invited
•sending each other selfies
-your ugliest ones usually end up as your lock screens
-“who’s that horrendous looking creature?”
-“my fucking boyfriend bish”
•you die when peter speaks Spanish
-“pan caliente”
-“ I don’t know what you just said but please let it be the only thing you say at my funeral”
-he said hot bread
•Peter worries about your wellbeing
-he sets up daily reminders on your phone to drink water
-irl it’s just him texting you h20 puns and jokes
•you are very territorial
-if a girl so much as looks at Peter
-you will snatch the weave
-one time you actually pulled out some girls hair
-Peter thought it was hot™
-Steve and Tony did not ™
•stony are your parents tbh
•like your dad you have a lot of issues
-you’re scared peter will leave
-but he never does
-he always comes back
•arcade dates
-Peter gives you a promise ring from a vending machine
-the avengers freak out and think it’s an engagement ring.
-Steve gives you a lecture about patience and how you should wait.
-Tony on the other hand…
-“I KNEW THIS DAY WOULD COME I HAVE BEEN PLANNING THIS FOR MONTHS”
-“Uh Mr Stark, we’re 17 and it’s just a promise ring”
-“You are both disappointments and disgraces to the Stark name”
•caring for him after missions
-cuddles
-back rubs
-Peter is very clingy at this point.
•knowing exactly what calms each other down.
•Training with Peter
-having a run on the treadmill whilst he does weights.
-you trip and hit your head
-Peter drops a weight on his foot bc he’s shook.
-you both go to hospital and agree never to workout together again.
•carnival dates
-peter sees a game and insists he wins a price for you
-he loses
-3 times
-you end up having a go and you win a fish
-peter has the fish for 4 days of the week and you have him for 3
-the fish is your son™
-his name is ‘the fish™’
•stargazing and talking about a future together
•you both trust and love each other a lot
•you love peter a lot
-although you don’t say it often
-you show it though
- but he already knows it
#peter parker#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker au#peter parker fluff#spiderman#spiderman imagine#spiderman x reader#spiderman x you#spiderman au#spiderman fluff#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland au#tom holland fluff#dad!tony#dad!tony stark#tony stark#tony stark au#tony stark fluff#tony stark x you#tony stark x reader#family!avengers#avengers#avengers au#avengers fluff#avengers x you
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EPISODE TWO
“I'm starting to feel more comfortable with my position in the game.” - dem
HOH: Josh C
UPSIDE DOWN: Nick & Joshua
NOMINEES: Emma & Nash
POV: N/A
FINAL NOMINEES: N/A
EVICTED: Dem (Expelled)
EMMA
I been struggling in this game which is sad i want to have fun but yesterday made me feel like maybe having a meltdown and leaving 90 percent of servers was a good idea for me i really hope not i just really want to have fun and win for some reasons i always have trouble prejury in games trying to find my footing but at jury and late prejury i always know how to rise ASDFGH the people i really like rn are Jakey loml jev loml aria queen saira queen and also joshua is easy to talk too!!! nathan is also great
DEM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HSgjyUhGTng
NASH
i simply think men should stop winning hoh and trying to nom me. its week 2 go target someone else j*sh. jev and i are cool now though <3 love him
DEM
I'm starting to feel more comfortable with my position in the game. I think I'm not in anyone's bad graces so far, which is good. But I really need to win one of these next HoH's so secure my social relationships. My plan moving forward is to see win HoH's. I want to win the next to HoH's I'm eligible in back to back. I also want to try to secure my relationships with Gina, Jev, and Jake. Those are three people I want to be close with in this game. Also maybe Joshua? He's pretty cool and chill.
SAIRA
I'm still getting a sense of how the game works but I feel pretty good, there are some people that are much easier to talk to than others but everyone is still so nice! i feel good about josh c as hoh! we get along pretty well and I don't THINK im in any danger but you never know! imma be honest, I don't have an actual plan, i'm mostly playing this by ear, just talking to people, bullying beck when the chance arises, and being myself!
JOSH C
HELLO GIRLIES!
well, we won HOH and that's really EXCITING. i probably didn't need to win this week but i figured that i'd get a win under my belt while nominating people would still be EASY. i can establish trust with some people and get a "i didn't nom you, please don't nom me" situation going on. i also feel like the two people i'm going to nominate would have NOMMED me anyways because we just haven't talked..
who those people are? nash & emma. (vl don't hate me for only nominating women i didn't want it to come to this either)
but i just.. both of them have really only put in any effort to talk to me now that i'm HOH and i don't really LOVE that tbh. i've already told a few people that's who i'm thinking so i kind of accidentally locked myself in on these noms because there isn't any sense in throwing out more names than i have to!!
i have an alliance with kiki, brianna, jacob, jake, and aria. (i think that's the people in it? i wanna say that's right. LKFMSDG love this game for me) and i feel pretty good in that because i like all of them enough and they're people that will watch out for ME and each other. but i know my social connections go beyond that so i'm feeling pretty good with my spot in the game? i have a solid relationship with almost everyone in the game and i think i should be able to play a cute lil utr game for a few weeks. i don't think that i'll get targeted first if my alliance gets outed and if so.. i have ENOUGH faith in my comp strength and relationships to save me against MOST of the cast.
people kind of want me to nominate DEM because apparently he starts drama with people and has been a bit inactive. he's talked with me more than other people so im not super keen on throwing him on the block RIGHT AWAY but i'm thinking he's a good replacement nom because if people think he's MIA then no one other than him will be upset with me. maybe a backdoor? could be spicy..
i don't really know what else to say here so.. i hope this is enough! love u guys <3
BRIANNA
https://youtu.be/mJw3qxsZ-Bg
JEV
Okay so I feel like pretty comfortable this week because me and Josh have gotten pretty close and bonded over our mutual love of Lucas HOWEVER he's just let me know he's gonna be nominating Nash and Emma which isn't GREAT since I'm in alliances with both of them and they're the only 2 alliances I have so I really wouldn't want to see either of them go home this week, this SUCKS ASS
JAKE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tt2xRQqqax8
ARIA
how is it ONLY week 2 i feel so hecking exhausted fhsabfd, but that might also be the fact that is 2 am so,,,oop. Um okay recap time!!!! Recaps are so hard because theres minor details that i still want to note without seeming super annoying so heres a minor list of things im noticing
-Dem wants to "start playing the game" I told this to Jake (wish i could bold names ugh)
-Gina & dem told me they were gunning hard for hoh- i told nathan/monty/nick/,,,,and someone else this
-emma feels unconnected from cast
-Jake doesnt like Gina
-Josh likes Me Jev Kiki (told joshua)
-emma knows alliances are starting to form
-joey can get pwr hungry and chaotic + good comp ability
-told gnia my thoughts on the sides being "connected v unconnected" and other tidbits of info
-GIna (potentially joshua) doesnt like nash
-Nathan/Nash ARE CLOSE!!!!! WEE FUCKING WOO!!!!
-Told Jake that Jacob has the power (and the bs excuse he told gina pretending he doesnt have it,,,sure jan)
-jake is GREAT at lowering his threat lvl im sick
-Jev-Josh-Nathan-Nash all bonded p well on vc potentially an alliance
-jake tried to get gina nominated
-Emma Nash noms
-Jake doesnt want emma to leave
So,,,thats what you missed on GLEE! Honestly glee sucks but yeah thats all my info i would weave everything together with cute transitions but im TIRED and lots of this information doesnt really connect well so,,,have a bullet list!
okok nvm heres some general thoughts bc JUST a bullet point list is so boringgg im honestly not too sure what i want to do this week bc i think emma doesnt have a lot of people (although she has jake apparently,,,she might just be putting up a front of being unconnected ffs) so i would rather keep her around based on our relationship alone esp compared to nash whose been busy w/ irl things to reply i think (nash would prob do gr8 in old school bb,,,but new school is a whole other beast) HOWEVER!!! I need to protect gina who isn't the best conversationalist (sorry bb ily but its true <3) and keeping nash around ensures people have another "inact" target besides her but also nash is such a god connection for people like nathan and jacob and i would rather get her out sooner than later before we have another renee on our hands ...
Also i havent talked to the pasio peeps (omg if we ever make an alliance,,,that should be the name hehe) in a while and idk if theyre distancing themselves or if theyre just busy fndsjafd god im too paranoid for this game its awful. Also i think i mentioned the alliance with josh kiki bri jake jacob last time and it still isnt made and im PRAYINGGG it never gets made bc i have SUCH an awful feeling like SIX FUCKING PEOPLE??? S I X?? THAT IS GOING TO FAIL AND BLOW UP!!!! but i cant say no to an alliance so here i fucking am :/ also im trying to think of my longevity in this game and like,,, idk im nervous. I mean ive mentioned going to the end with multiple people but i have such a bad feeling im gonna go out 9/10 as a big move and i REFUSE to let that shit happen, not on my fucking watch no sir!! Not sure what to do about it yet but i feel like monty in particular doesnt trust me and i need his ass OUT! or maybe not if he comes around but like??? sir pls talk to me- i mean this phase of the game is early im setting up the pawns for later, but before later theres gonna be a couple explosions of my game which i'll have to deal with,,, or maybe not actually i mean in my first org i did a really well mastermind game with it- nvm it did explode on me once FDBSHFDS yeah so theres gonna be an explosion period but i think im getting good at dealing w/ the backlash from it and reintegrating myself..
oh also yeah im safe this week lol
anyway sorry for rambling so much LMAO have a trust ranking!
1.Gina (MY QUEEN!!!!!!!! i LOVE her!)
-BIG BIG FUCKING GAP-
2.Jake (listen,,,my thoughts go back and forth but he did tell me the noms so,,,have some rights)
3.Saira (we never talk game but i dont think she talks with anyone about game beyond maybe nick and also shes nice and im a sucker for nice girls)
4.Emma (if this isnt all just a front shes gonna make a great number for me,, might need to fact check some of her statements tho)
5.Joshua (honestly? i love him hes so funny and i think he has my back although he could be more act)
6.Nathan (literally havent talked in 3 days but also i have a soft spot for him <3)
-GAP-
sorry the Js are just kinda scary lmao JFNSDKF
7.Nick (!! we gotta an actual connection folks!! heck yeah!)
8.Josh c (im safe! but he D E F trusts others more than me such as Joshua and Jacob)
9.Jev (honestly a king but hes a little quiet although his reccs are the BOMB)
10.Jacob (i know youre being sneaky,,,idk what youre being sneaky with but im getting the vibes)
11.Dem (might be weird but i think he trusts me? at least a little bc he ranted about losing to me so O.0)
12.Brianna (youre adorable and deserve the world but everyone likes you,,,is this how people view me omg fhsabfhds)
13.Kiki (youre SO hecking sweet and actually u probs have a connections to nash but we havent talked ANY game yet)
14.Nash (p,,p-please talk to me uwu)
15.Joey (i dont trust you at ALL! Why? good question-)
was that mean? sorry in advance ilyall but also its 3 am brain empty no filter
NASH
i think jev and nathan might end up being good allies of mine (inb4 betrayal)! despite the mistake he made nomming me, talking to jev has been lovely so far he's getting me into loona LMFAO. and i just love nathan's energy & i feel like as the season goes on i can see him winning comps. i'm excited :3 hope josh c does not end my existence this week
JOEY
I feel FANTASTIC about Josh being HoH. I’m making sure that others are coming to me about gameplans, and I’m making sure I don’t come off as too pushy or aggressive in PMs. With most of the players, I’m trying to give them all the same energy and hype. It seems kinda weird to say this, but I’m not concerned about being nominated at this point. What I need to ensure is building my social relationships with people outside the “Crackhouse”, and yes that big ol friend group moved to Discord in 20 minutes like 6 months ago.
This is the first major game I’ve ever played with Skinny Nick(yes, I’m absolutely confused as to what to call them, I’m so used to calling Nick “Eve” that its going to take time to adjust.) Speaking of Nick, my social relationship with him is actually surprisingly similar. In the past, I felt as though it would be as “on-sight” as Tom & Jerry, and it actually isn’t turning out that way, which is surprisingly refreshing. Every day, I’m making sure I send Nick something different to diversify my social game with them. Yesterday, I asked Nick about his preferred streaming services for music and TV, and I discovered we have the same music service(Apple Music).
I’ve played one game with Monty before, but it was a disaster. We were in pairs, and it felt like we were on different planets. I did tell him to not worry about personal feelings when it comes to this game, because I compared the relationship of BB Netflix and the Crackhouse to the separation of church and state. I made that comparison because the two entities of church and state should never cross, but when they do it becomes disastrous, and I feel as though that same principle applies to this game.
Overall, I feel good, Emma may be going up on the block, but it shouldn’t affect me that much. We’re in the early stage, I want to make sure I’m good with everyone.
ARIA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFeox7LM1-E
JAKE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLkZ-BIIjTU
HOUSE MEETING
https://youtu.be/BZMorvWvyKY
HOST WEEKLY CAST ASSESSMENT WEEK 1 & 2
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A Life without Lack: Living in the Fullness of Psalm 23
By Dallas Willard
Psalm 23 begins with an astounding assertion:
"The LORD is my shepherd,
I shall not want."
This describes the life we all desire,
one where we lack nothing.
But how do we get there?
How do we live so that we not only do "not want"
but "fear no evil?"
In this revelatory & profoundly pastoral new book,
the late Dallas Willard shows us how by unpacking
the 23rd Psalm to reveal what the apostle Paul &
the psalmist before him knew:
the secret of being content in any
& every situation.
Learn the secret of living with contentment,
peace, & security.
Pause for a moment & ask yourself what your life
would be like if it were completely without fear?
If you did not fear death.
If you did not fear life & what it might bring.
If you did not fear any wo / man, or any living creature.
Would you live differently?
In this unique work of never-before-published teach,
Dallas Willard revolutionizes our understanding of
Psalm 23 by taking this comfortably familiar passage
& revealing its extraordinary promises:
"The LORD is my shepherd,
I shall not want ... I will fear no evil."
The psalmist claims to live without any need &
without any fear. How is that possible?
Written with Willard's characteristic gentle wisdom,
Life Without Lack reveals the secret of enjoying
GOD's presence & becoming utterly caught up
in HIS abudant generosity.
The more we practice living in HIS presence,
the more we experience the peace, patience,
kindness, & freedom from worry that is
promised in the psalm.
Based on a series of talks by the late author &
edited by his friend & colleague, Larry Burtoft, &
by his daughter, Rebecca Willard Heatley,
Life Without Lack will forever change the way
you understand & apply the most well-known
passage in all of SCRIPTURE.
We have all things & abound, not because
I have a good store of money in the bank,
not because I have skill & with which
to win my bread.
But because the LORD is my Shepherd.
- Charles Haddon Spurgeon
The LORD is my Shepherd, I shall not want
I will fear no evil, for YOU are with me .
[Psalm 23: 1 & v.4]
You will find within these pages
a warm invitation into the
incomparably rich & fulfilling
life that JESUS makes possible .
One of our greatest needs today
is for people to really see &
really believe the things
they already profess
to see & believe.
Knowing about things,
knowing what they are,
being able to identify them & say them
- does not mean : we actually believe them .
When we truly believe what we profess,
we are set to act as if they are true .
Acting as if things are true means in turn,
we live as if they were so.
The words of the 23rd Psalm are among
�� those things people profess to believe.
Many can recite the 23rd Psalm from memory
—including the people who don't believe much
about GOD.
Some have learned the Psalm purely as poetic literature.
But far too few have experienced in their own lives
the vivid reality described by the psalmist .
Unfortunately, the LORD is my shepherd
is a sentiment carved on tombstones,
more than a reality written in lives .
The title of this book: Life Without Lack, reflects the very
first verse of the 23rd Psalm: The LORD is my Shepherd,
I shall not want.
It describes the life we all desire.
A life in which we want for nothing.
Or better yet, lack nothing.
The psalmist is portraying the life we were meant to enjoy.
One that is imminently available to us.
But do you believe this verse is actually true?
Few people act as if it were.
This book is a series of in-depth meditations on the
23rd Psalm, intended to help you really see it, &
really believe it, & to live as if it were true.
To gain the most from this book, I encourage you to
meditatively read Psalm 23 for 10 minutes or so,
before each chapter.
This will help you renew your mind.
By giving the HOLY SPIRIT opportunities to teach
you about what it means for the LORD to be your
Shepherd.
Meditate on it day & night.
Memorization is an essential element of a Life Without Lack
It is the primary way we fill our minds with the WORD of GOD.
And have our thoughts formed by GOD’s thoughts.
Memorizing SCRIPTURE is even more important than a
daily quiet time.
For as we fill our minds,
with great passages, & have them
readily available for our meditation,
quiet time takes over
the entirety of our lives.
Memorization enables us to keep GOD & HIS truth
constantly before our minds.
Allowing HIS WORD & wisdom to help us.
Memorizing this beautiful Psalm
will strengthen your
concentration on the good Shepherd.
By eliminating the distractions of trying to remember
the words, as you meditate.
So if you haven’t already done so, please make sure
you have the 23rd Psalm memorized.
The nature of our Shepherd
I hope you will learn to see GOD in a new way,
in the words that follow.
We begin by focusing on the
glorious eternal all sufficient
omnipotent creator of the universe
—whose greatness surpasses
anything we could imagine.
unlimited in resources,
just as HE is unlimited in love,
HE is the good Shepherd, who
generously provides for our every need.
We will look at why HE created humankind,
Why HE desires to be in relationship with us?
How Satan attempts to interfere with GOD’s good plan
for human history.
Then we will examine 3 conditions, that must be present
in our own lives—if we are to experience the fullness of
the wisdom, power, & love of GOD.
Faith,
Death to self, &
Agape love.
The final chapter of this book provides an exercise in
how to live one day with JESUS.
So that everyday can be a grace infused masterpiece.
This is where we put into practice the words from
Psalm 23 that we believe are true.
The LORD is my Shepherd
In other words, I’m in the care of someone else,
I’m not the one in-charge, I’ve taken my kingdom &
surrendered it to kingdom of GOD.
>> I am living the with GOD life.
The LORD is my Shepherd.
And what follows from that? I shall not want.
That’s the natural result:
I shall not lack anything
That’s what JESUS teaches,
Seek first the Kingdom of GOD
& HIS righteousness, and
everything else will be added.
[Matthew 6:33]
HE makes me to lie down in green pastures..
Our confidence in GOD soars far above wants & fears.
Would you like to have a life without fear,
a life of soaring faith?
It seems like JESUS was constantly saying to HIS friends,
“Fear not! Fear not!” <For YOU are with me>
The central truth of this book: Life without Lack is based
upon the presence of GOD.
Deuteronomy 31:6; Deuteronomy 31:8; Joshua 1:5; 1 Kings 8:57; Nehemiah 9:19; Psalm 94:14; Hebrews 13:5
Deuteronomy 31:6 | Be strong & courageous;
do not be afraid or terrified of them, for it is
the LORD your GOD who goes with you;
HE will never leave you nor forsake you.”
Deuteronomy 31:8 | The LORD HIMSELF
goes before you; HE will be with you.
HE will never leave you nor forsake you.
Do not be afraid or discouraged.”
Joshua 1:5 | No one shall stand against you
all the days of your life. As I was with Moses,
so will I be with you; I will never leave you
nor forsake you.
1 Kings 8:57 | May the LORD our GOD be with us,
as HE was with our fathers.
May HE never leave us or forsake us.
Nehemiah 9:19 | YOU in YOUR great compassion
did not forsake them in the wilderness.
By day the pillar of cloud never turned away
from guiding them on their path; & by the night the
pillar of fire illuminated the way they should go.
Psalm 94:14 | For the LORD will not forsake
HIS people; HE will never abandon HIS heritage.
Hebrews 13:5 | Keep your lives free from the love
of money & be content with what you have,
for GOD has said: “Never will I leave you,
never will I forsake you.”
And HE is most fully present to us
in JESUS CHRIST, Immanuel
[GOD with us]
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
Since I love my enemies [Genesis 50:20],
I would not feast upon a delicious meal
in their presence & let them stand there hungry.
The abundance of GOD’s provision
& safety in my life is so great, I would
invite them to enjoy what GOD
has prepared for me.
Note how this connects: Love your enemies
Matthew 5:44 | But I tell you, love your enemies
& pray for those who persecute you,
Even as they harm us physically, GOD’s agape love
overflows our cup of joy; we won’t do anything else.
Romans 5:5-6 | And hope does not disappoint us,
because GOD has poured out HIS love into our
hearts through the HOLY SPIRIT,
whom HE has given us. For at just the right time,
while we were still powerless, CHRIST died
for the ungodly.
1 John 3:1 | Behold what manner of love
the FATHER has given to us, that we should
be called children of GOD. And that is what we are!
The reason the world does not know us is
that it did not know HIM.
@thegreatpromise
...
#Psalm 23:1#for YOU are with me#fear no evil#life JESUS makes possible#Life without Lack#Psalm 23:3#Dallas Willard#grace infused masterpiece#Matthew 6:33#union with GOD#restored by GOD#eternal life#confidence in GOD#presence of GOD#Psalm 94:14#Psalm 94#Hebrews 13:5#Hebrews 13#be content#GOD is with you#never abandon HIS heritage
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Star Catcher
Masterpost
Adventure Ten-The Hungry Sand
The storm raged outside. Dex watched it for a few seconds mesmerized by the easy calm they claimed in the middle of it. In the light of the few ships surrounding them the sand looked strangely purple. It glittered in and out of their small island of light in patterns Dex could not understand. The sand screamed like nothing Dex had heard before. It sounded almost alive.
What is that noise? He asked Harpie as they waited for their friends to finish inspecting Star Catcher.
Not sure. This is a new planet. Haven’t been here before. Harpie shrugged. Although, the word planet might be a stretch. It was small rock, slightly bigger than an average asteroid. It didn’t even have a proper star. The white dwarf it revolved around barely illuminated the planet. Dex was surprised it even had enough gravity to hold the asteroid in place from such a distance.
The fore hatch opened and Rew and her crew trooped in. They were a rag tag bunch of techies who made illegal tech and hid on planets like the one they were on. Dex had no clue how many or if any of them were human. Rew, the one in the lead seemed mostly human, two feet, two eyes, two ears, one mouth, almost humanoid shape except for the extra hand sticking out of the side of the neck. The one behind her seemed to have a few extra fingers and a small horn jutting out of their head. The third one had an extra eye on each hand which he waved enthusiastically at them. Dex wondered if that made him dizzy. The last one barely fit into the hatch. Their head scraped the ceiling and they had to bend almost in half even for that. In the end, three bots entered just before the hatch closed. Dex’s entire attention turned to them.
“Hello! I am the captain of this ship.” Alina offered them an easy smile. Harpie warned them not to tell or ask names.
The bots stood silently behind the crew. They were remarkably close to the design they had on Earth. Dex was impressed with the precision of the counterfeit. Their neon green eyes hid scanners behind them. One glance and they would recognize a cyborg. Unbidden, memories of Earth rose to the surface.
“Good to be here, captain. Ship looks fine. We can get started on the modifications straight away.”
“Perfect!” Alina clapped her hands snapping Dex out of his spiral. When he looked up, Dig and V were staring at him with concern.
“We will need some assistance, of course. The time you gave us is too little.”
“We will help you any way we can but the time is non negotiable.”
“So be it.”
“You already know H is a techie. The rest of us can follow instructions well enough. Only V will be spared. He really can’t handle too much of this heat.” V nodded apologetically. The planet might be dark but the weather was muggy and hot. Dex assumed it was some kind of volcanic activity nearby that made the sand so weird and the air so hot.
“I think D can help me out too. You guys can handle the rest right.” Alina finally looked at Dex properly. He was sweating too much even with the heat of the stormy planet beating down on them. His eyes were blown wide. He was panicking.
“Of course, D goes with you.” Alina said smoothly, like it was all a routine. V thanked her silently and dragged Dex away.
***
Dex’s breathing calmed down once he was secure inside V’s cool room. The pool glimmered in the low light. V slipped in with a groan and left Dex to sit on one of the comfortable chairs surrounding the edge. Dex appreciated the silence and the space V was giving him. He wasn’t sure if he could’ve handled actually working beside those bots all day.
“You okay?” V asked floating lazily beside Dex.
“Yeah.” V stayed silent. Dex sighed. “No.”
“What’s wrong?” V was trying to keep his voice light but Dex could hear the concern.
“The bots made me nervous.”
“Bots?” V padded over to the edge of the pool. “Why would the bots bother you?”
“Back on Earth, they uhhh repaired us.”
“Okay.”
“You have to understand, cyborgs don’t get the consideration actual humans get.” V’s eyes flashed with anger at the c word. “Let me talk, please. I need to get this out.” V nodded slowly.
“Cyborgs are made when we are young, sometimes even before we are born. And then they test us when they judge us to be ready. If we pass, we live and get to work forever in the offices. A low tech level like me is usually… discarded but I just managed to score a pass. So I got the shit work usually but I was still alive.” Dex took a deep breath, determined not to cry before he was done. The constant fear of not being enough and the haunting feeling of worthlessness every time he managed to botch a deadline were still fresh in his mind.
“I was so scared of dying. I stayed careful and kept a low profile but once in a while we all needed maintenance. It isn’t much but if it costs too much we will be discarded. So I hoarded my credits and only got repairs in the worst cases. The bots I used were kind of cheap.” V wrapped a warm hand around Dex’s ankle.
“And I had to give up on sedatives…when…when they…”
“Dex…” There was a splash and V was suddenly there, engulfing Dex in a tight hug.
“They didn’t mean to hurt me. I know, they were only doing their work. They were helping me. I know. But…”
“It’s okay, Dex. I get it.” V patted Dex’s back. “You don’t have to face them when you are here, I promise.”
“Thanks, V.” Dex relaxed into the hug, his heart rate going down slowly.
***
“Alright, we are done with this.” Nisha called after a few hours. The work was hellish but it felt good to be stretching her muscles just before a big job. It helped keep the adrenaline in check.
“Good job, love.” Alina whispered and kissed her nose.
“Ugh, Alina, there’s gunk on my face.” Nisha giggled.
“Your face could be made out of gunk completely and I would still kiss you.”
“You are an idiot.” Nisha pushed Alina away when she saw Rew approaching. They did not want to give away anything that might give the others an advantage. Harpie was strict with their instructions.
“Captain, I need a word.” Rew’s voice sounded like a stalled engine. Nisha had to struggle to maintain her calm, unaffected face.
“Sure.” Alina turned away from Nisha, almost covering her. Nisha felt a little bubble of exasperated fondness well up inside her. They had known each other for so long and Alina still insisted on “protecting” her at every possible moment. It was adorable.
“We need a crew of you to help us.”
“The work here is done. We can assist.”
Rew led them to the main control room where Harpie was systematically dismantling SC’s main AI chamber. The backup would kick in as soon as it was disabled but Harpie did not trust anyone but themselves to take SC apart to its core.
“We have a problem.”
They lost some of the equipment. Harpie hissed angrily.
“How can you lose something? We are literally on one ship.”
Rew shrugged. “We were bringing over some of the parts from …other place and the sand got the ship.”
“So it crashed? That’s it? We can’t get it now?”
“Oh the parts are fine. They weren’t powered on. The sand didn’t get them.”
“What?” Nisha was fully lost.
“This planet is a vriksheek. It damaged the ship but the field is still protecting the equipment.” Nisha had no idea what Rew was talking about and from her expression, Alina didn’t seem to get it either.
“Wha…” Alina changed her mind halfway through. “Where did it crash?”
“Not far. It won’t take more than an hour to go get it.”
“Why not send some of your people? You lost the stuff, not us.” Nisha appreciated Amani’s anger but Rew seemed unaffected.
“We can waste an hour doing this but then the entire work will be delayed.” Alina huffed.
“Fine. N, get your suit and ready the pod, we are heading out.”
You should stay captain. Ams come help me with this. Alina nodded. Nisha understood what Harpie was trying to say. Alina needed to stay on the ship, keeping an eye on Rew. They couldn’t afford to get out numbered on a strange planet. There’s no point in sending off their weapons specialist either. They needed fighters on the ship.
“G?” Alina turned to Dig.
“Are you mad? Not with the suit.” Rew shouted. “Did you not hear what I said about the planet? It’s the hungry sand!” Alina looked shocked. It was the first time they had seen Rew lose her cool.
“Oh…right…of course. Ams go get D. We need him.”
***
Dex and Nisha conversed in whispers while they changed.
“How is it going?” Dex shook some water out of his hair. He was still flushed from the sudden swim V had pulled him into. It turned into a water fight which was completely unfair considering V was from an aquatic species.
“As well as we can hope, I guess. I see you were having a good time.” Unlike Dex, Nisha was only drenched in gunk and was completely dehydrated. Dex blushed.
“I …we….were…uhhh….”
“Relax, Dex. You can have fun.” Nisha patted him on the head. “Besides, all this water might keep you cool out there. Why the fuck would a place so dark be so hot? Ugh.” She wiped some sweat off her forehead.
“Volcanoes?” Dex offered, fixing the straps of gloves on her hands.
“Probably.” Nisha hummed.
Dex got the rest of the suit on without looking outside. He was trying to keep a cool head but the bizarre weather of the planet was getting to him once he was outside V’s room. He ached to go back. He wanted to splash V and make him surrender. He wanted to win the stupid game they started. Why hadn’t he gone to V’s room before?
“D?” Alina called.
“Ready.”
“N?”
“Ready.”
“Go.”
***
The planet was sandier than Dex expected it to be. A couple hundred feet below the ship, the storm suddenly cleared. They could still see the turbulent purple monster above them but below it was just a plain desert. The sand below looked a little different from the stuff above but Dex didn’t have the time to think about it. They had a mission.
Rew gave them very specific instructions on how to extract the equipment. They stayed above the height Rew specified until they reached the wreck of the other ship. It wasn’t a big ship, just a small delivery pod.
“They must have some other ship or warehouse somewhere close.”
“We could’ve landed on the planet. Why did we even stay in the damn storm?” They grumbled while they prepared to go down and grab what they came for.
The escape hatch of the pod closed behind them when the main comms on the ship burst into life. Alina’s panicked voice filled the ship.
“Get out of there now! D! N! Abort!”
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#star catcher#my writing#scifi#scifiseries#lgbt#wlw#mlm#nb#gays in space#chapter ten#mel is sleeping
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