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#but there's a lot of potential in this verse if i had the patience and the time to sit down and flesh it all out
themechaneer · 2 years
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as a mitch scholar is mitch a mirrorball or a this is me trying?
anon, thank you for your patience!! i have been turning this ask around in my mind since the day i got it... i am so honoured you would come to me of all people for mitch scholarship i hope i was able to do your ask justice 🫡
the tl;dr -- gut reaction is to say 'mirrorball', but ultimately 'this is me trying' is, i think, a better fit for mitch (at least, through my own lens).
more in depth musings below the cut (fair warning a lot of this is just me rambling aimlessly)
i'd start by saying i think that mirrorball and this is me trying (timt) do share a fair amount of overlap in terms of the themes they touch on (identity, abandonment issues, fear of losing your shine/potential, wistful longing), and because of that, i think you could make a strong argument for either song.
you could probably make an argument that mirrorball fits more when mitch was a rookie, to an extent.
for example, if we take the opening verse of mirrorball:
I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight I'll get you out on the floor Shimmering beautiful And when I break it's in a million pieces
well that's mitchell 'swiss army knife' marner for you... makes his linemates better, makes the pk better, makes our pp look functional. team has a problem? send in the mouse.
but here's where the mirrorball narrative starts to not work quite as well, i think:
I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I can change everything about me to fit in
how do i explain this... this implies a level of persona building that mitch doesn't have, imo? from everything we've seen as fans, and what we've heard from coaches, friends, teammates past and present etc, mitch is very much himself all the time. even when it doesn't necessarily serve him well (see: his relationship w/ the press).
moreover, mirrorball is a song that grapples with this idea of how to keep someone's attention and affections by changing yourself -- 'i've never been a natural'. i would argue that mitch is a natural. he has that inherent starlike quality to him and his game that -- while definitely bolstered by years of hard work -- is also, an inherent part of who he is. he's weaving spells on ice. making magic out of thin air.
i think patty put it best during his leaf to leaf with mitch:
mitch: if there was one piece of advice you'd like me for me to remember for the rest of my career, what would it be? [...] patrick: for you, i would just realize how good you are. i don't know if you realize how good you are, are going to be.
how good you are. are going to be. mitch was always going to be a star, i think. now whether or not he can handle the weight that comes with burning that bright... well.
which brings us to timt:
I've been having a hard time adjusting I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down
mitch was born and raised in toronto, and this city demands a lot from him. he's our hometown hero and somewhere along the way, that stopped being a blessing and turned into a bit of a curse.
there's a lot of pressure on this core to deliver toronto to the promised land. for mitch, this pressure is made worse by the fact that a significant portion of the fanbase is still mad over his last contract (how dare he not take a hometown discount + his contract negotiations were rather... public) + he faces a lot of criticism for his game 'not translating' in the playoffs (despite the fact that. the stats don't support this i don't believe?).
like. he had the shiniest wheels now they're rusting! would you even care if he came back! (also also. 'followed my fears all the way down' ... him sitting in that penalty box trying not to cry as he watched their playoff hopes exploded... yikes yikes yikes)
And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad I have a lot of regrets about that I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere Fell behind on my classmates, and I ended up here
that aries moon babyyy. he's blunt he's got big opinions he is squeaking at the refs and yapping on the bench! honestly crazy to me that mitch's undiganosed-adhd-coded ass ended up with two of the most patient people on earth for teammates.
'i was so ahead of the curve / the curve became a sphere' he was shattering records as a rookie! he was a star prospect! and now the ontario hockey uncles and the media are trying to put shambles in his brain!
And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town
this is verse is about 1634. no i won't elaborate.
And I just wanted you to know That this is me trying (And maybe I don't quite know what to say) I just wanted you to know That this is me trying At least I'm trying
and here we are at perhaps the most central part of this song. i want you to know that i'm trying. and this is truly a key part of the mitch marner thesis.
he's always going to give it one more shot. and maybe this time he'll manage to make it right. he can't be any other version of himself but who he is, but he's here. and he's trying. he's wearing his heart on his sleeve. he's hugging carlton the bear during warmups and flipping pucks at kids over the glass. he still wears the pink bracelet hayden gave him. he's drawing smiley faces on his gloves and cellying 'like an idiot [...] like i'm back in juniors'. they hate him for his inherent whimsy and unbreakable spirit but truly where would we be without mitch marner.
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ala-freakin-bama · 4 months
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enter the muse - open search
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don't give up now pressure's on
hello and welcome to my first time ever trying this on tumblr! I am a baby in the ways of creative writing and roleplay here, so I apologize upfront for using incorrect terms and/or general cluelessness lol. all I know is I have a massive itch to scratch and I'm exploring all possible avenues to satisfy it! so, without further ado...
the idea.
tl;dr - looking to pair my fem!oc (view here) against reboot Simon "Ghost" Riley (also open to Konig, Phillip Graves, and Soap!) (love triangles welcome)
**disclaimer... I am by no means well-versed in cod lore! as stated previously, I've only played the recent mw2/3 campaigns and have stumbled across wayyy too many ai character chats lolol. so I'm not looking for something lore-heavy or canon, and will not be enraged if my partner writes a non-canon-accurate character haha. I'm primarily looking for an "au" -- essentially the canon world/story, but with creative liberties/artist's rendition allowed lol. now, onward!
I had a random character idea while listening to "Don't Give Up" by Ursine Vulpine (here, if you'd like to take a listen); I like taking ordinary characters and putting them in extraordinary settings/circumstances/company, and my thought was a regular young woman (mc) who loses her family in a Konni/Makarov terrorist attack (maybe the Verdansk stadium attack in the flashback in mw3?). stricken with grief and the need for vengeance, she goes off-grid in attempts to track down Konni/the man responsible for her family's deaths (not Makarov -- another oc of my own). at some point she comes across valuable information (how/when she gets it and what it is is up for brainstorming!), and this segues into either her running into tf141/a member of tf141 (yc) or them running into/finding her.
that's the barebones idea I want to work with -- I've got lots of ideas, and more thoughts and details can be hashed out via pms/messages!! I will note that I'm looking for something a little more serious/gritty in tone, hurt/comfort themes and danger/action/high stakes, not so much fluff (though there'll certainly be moments for that) ♡
the rules.
01. I am 21+ and require partners to be 18+;; mature content can and will be involved, including but not limited to: violence/gore, death, combat/war, heavy/triggering themes, and [potential] smut.
02. preference for lengthier posts, multi-para to novella. I understand that sometimes there's not need for more than a couple of paragraphs, but I thrive on detail and description of characters' thoughts.
03. while the story and plot will come first, I do want romance to be a key theme of the rp. as previously mentioned I'm not looking for a fluffy romcom, but I will require romance. at this point in time, I am not looking to double. apologies!
04. ooc communication is a must! I don't want to carry the plot all by myself, and I thrive of collaboration in a story.
05. if you'd like to rp somewhere other than tumblr, let me know. I have accounts on several roleplaying sites as well as discord.
06. last but not least -- I prefer not to write with men/males. I've had awkward experiences in the past when it comes to romance-involved plots when writing with men, and since I'm largely looking for romance and am a woman myself, I'd prefer to write with other women if at all possible!
in closing.
thank you so much for your time and patience, and I look forward to hearing from any interested parties! please feel free to send a message or an ask, or like this post if you don't have time to type something up and I'll get back to you ♡
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malka-lisitsa · 6 months
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“Plots please”
⤏ send me “plots please”
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Personally I like the little verse we have where shes with Michael and he's infatuated with 'mom'. But if you're asking for other ideas-
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Maybe he runs into her as a human, and now hopeless. Maybe he talks to her while shes on top of the clock tower and talks her down? Ya boi a guardian angel for a hot minute.
Alternatively I liked the idea of him asking her to teach him to be more "natural" lmfao that had a lot of potential. Especially bc she has low patience but she secretly likes him so she'd actually try but be frustrated all the same.
Maybe she runs into him after the fall and he asks her for help to find his dad and shes like bro why me I have zero fucks to give about your heavenly politics.
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bladedwoe · 2 years
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|| THE BASICS ||
NAME: Astrid
NICKNAME(S): none lmao
AGE: 31 (though I may change it around at some point, she’s in her 30s)
SPECIES: human / nord
|| PERSONAL ||
MORALITY: lawful / neutral / chaotic ||| good /  gray / evil 
RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Idk how to explain it because she’s not polytheist, she doesn’t believe int he Night Mother, but she believes in Sithis, but TES’s mythology is very different from ours because there is daedra, the nine divines, the eight divines, etc.. 
VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice
PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: Help restore the Dark Brotherhood to its former glory, have the Dark Brotherhood be feared, make a ton of profit for the Dark Brotherhood and maintain its legacy. Her goals vary a bit by her verses, but this is the most consistent among all of her verses.
LANGUAGES KNOWN: English, I want to also say French because it’s a vibeTM, but I don’t see where she would learn it lmao
SECRETS: I’m still finding out as I write her, but she keeps her family and her life before she joined the Dark Brotherhood a secret, only shared with a select few but even then she’s vague about it. I guess her whole betrayal of the Dragonborn/Listener is a secret until its exposed.
QUIRKS: Sometimes when she’s distracted, Astrid will toy with her dagger and sometimes will accidentally run her finger over the sharp part, creating a cut in er finger. She also picks at loose strings on her clothing, so that will slowly weaken the material over time. 
SAVVIES: M.urder & a.ss.a.ssination obvi, but I think leadership? In a way? She was able to keep the DB morale high when the Night Mother wasn’t around, when there was no Black Hand, and they had to rely on gossip for who has done the Black Sacrament, so I think that’s one of her strengths. Charisma is also one, planning, and intelluct.
|| PHYSICAL ||
BUILD: slender / scrawny / bony / fit / athletic / herculean / babyfat / pudgy / obese / other  (The thing with this, Astrid doesn’t have an entirely curved figure. It’s there, but not overly apparent imo. In my view of her, she has a little bit of larger hips, but it’s hard for me to figure out her body type exactly on this).
HEIGHT: 5′8″
SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: Astrid actually is very concerned about “preserving” her beauty and is scared of aging showing on her face and body, so that’s part of the reason why she wears gloves and loves her shrouded hood (other than the whole anonymity involved with it). So she tries to prevent scarring on her body, but there are birthmarks, which actually don’t bother her as much. She has birthmarks on her neck and some spots on her arms.
ABILITIES/POWERS: N/A other than I guess the enchantment her blade has in her main verse.
RESTRICTIONS: Astrid’s ego & paranoia is both her downfalls. She almost finds herself untouchable, underestimating her opponents, but is overly worried about her leadership status being taken away from her. She also has a fear of betrayal within the Dark Brotherhood, which is rather ironic for what she does in her storyline (regardless of her motives). Her stubbornness and controlling ways can leave a bad impression and they really poke holes in her leaderships with how they could be a potential weakness to exploit (mostly with her paranoia as well). Her persona and lack of really showing her “true” self can be a restriction on her relationships, always feeling as if she has to play a part.
|| FAVOURITES ||
FAVOURITE FOOD: Main verse would be honey nut treat or mudcrab dip. In her other verses, she likes a various soups.
FAVORITE DRINK: Wine, preferably, but she isn’t particularly picky tbh.
FAVOURITE PIZZA TOPPING: Pizza doesn’t exist in any of her verses, but if she had to choose: she likes a lot of cheese and olives.
FAVOURITE COLOR: Red
FAVOURITE MUSIC GENRE: Classical lmao
FAVOURITE BOOK GENRE:  I go more into this topic here
FAVOURITE MOVIE GENRE: N’A in all of her verses, but horror (don’t tell anyone she likes Hallmark Christmas movies)
FAVOURITE SEASON: Either Fall or Winter. She likes the colder weather and she likes the fall of the leaves, the tying up loose ends. She likes the eerie quietness with winter and bundling up around a fire. It’s also around the time she really plans out for the next year.
FAVOURITE B.UTT TYPE: Astrid doesn’t have a preference ;^)
FAVOURITE CURSE WORD: “Damnit.”
FAVOURITE SCENT: Pine needles. She likes the smell of the forest or the smell before it rains.
|| FUN STUFF ||
B.OTTOM OR T.OP: T.op but one can still d.dom from the bottom, so she honestly has no big preference tbh.
LOUD BURPER OR SOFT BURPER: Soft burper.
SINGS IN THE SHOWER BATH: No, actually! She may have once or twice, but she really takes her bath times to think and contemplate, but also just... enjoy existing? LIke a moment to pause and breathe. She also treats baths as a self care thing and as a reward to wind down after a successful job.
LIKES BAD PUNS: Sure.
THEIR OPINION ON THE MUN: Neutral. She has no issues with me and probably enjoys that I want a more descriptive, multi-layered portrayal of her. A lot of people literally are like Astrid = bad with her whole betrayal thing because they don’t look beyond their character being betrayed. They don’t see her remorse in her last moments and how she did it for her family (yes, a selfish interest on her part with how she wanted to go back to when she was the one entirely in control with her leadership versus the finding of a Listener). But if Maro didn’t go after the Dark Brotherhood when Astrid and him made the deal, the Dark Brotherhood would still be standing without the listener. And too the Dark Brotherhood isn’t good in the first place lmao, it’s an evil organization. So she would probably respect that to some extent. Unlike my other muses, I haven’t actually put Astrid through too much torment and part of that is because she’s my newest muse.
TAGGED BY: stole it from my other blog.
TAGGING: @maxymuses @bxynjolf @malkhes @aelathehvntress​ @agglomerate​ & anyone who wants to do this! Steal it form me and tag me!
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colecassiidy · 9 months
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More hc's time let's go:
cole does observe hat etiquette. this includes: never put ur hat on ur bed (bad luck) and never touch another man's hat (unless u want to start a fight) and always tip ur hat when u meet a lady. will generally take his hat off indoors if there's a rack for it. always put your hat down by the crown if no rack is present.
he has a natural knack for vehicular maneuvering when it comes to cars and motorbikes. ties in with his sense of spatial awareness, but there's a sort of instincts attached to it that lends him to risking maneuvers he doesn't know he'll be able to pull off but just has a 'sense' and 'idea' that it might work. He doesn't pick these skills up until he hits the megafarms, being seated on heavy machinery with the blind expectation that he already knew how to drive; fellow farmhands n his pops did have him drive down driveways and put the car in reverse in simple maneuvers when he was 10. His first introduction to a motorbike is actually at a bar with some biker gang folk and they got along well enough that he eggs them into showing him how it all works. It's a friendship that begins with cajoling - one of them, Ernesto, does most of the bike shop work for crew and offers Jesse an apprenticeship job and he learns a bit more. They keep contact for a bit, until some incident or another has him packing up for another job in another town. Had he remained with them, he probably would have been taken into their fold.
he's versed in nonverbal communication (not in the sense of full blown fluency in ASL), but in the sort of signing when you ride a motorcycle due to the howling winds muffling your ability to hear or signing when you're scuba diving. It started with the biker community, and propagated further into deadlock for more complex situations; This has both helped and hindered his learning when picking up situational signing in BW
i think BW actually had a handful of applicants who saw jail time, so jesse wasn't exactly an outlier in that regard. rather, it was his age and the fact that he got out of having to serve supermax that potentially rankled the others. in introduction, he was prone to rivalries, a chip on the shoulder that had him seething 'watch me', and lacking in patience for questions that sought to belittle or undermine him. for the most part, i do think there was a sense of comradery and siblinghood after getting past the vetting program and training, an active vibe that they tried to foster in order to facilitate teamwork.
cole's pops:
despite a lot of mentions in his younger verse that seem to hold him in contempt, cole forgets most of his resentment towards his old man the moment joel dies; guilt mostly takes its place and it's survivor's guilt that makes it hard to meet his own eyes in the mirror. it takes a few years for him to understand his old man for who and what he was and that for the most part he was a man who was a slave to his ego and wants but wasn't particularly malicious towards his family about it (psychologically speaking, smthing smthing abt the narcissist seeing the family as an extension of themselves, desiring to preen over them and their accomplishments in a sort of possessive manner; treating others like objects.) for all of their disagreements, he thinks he should've saved him; shoulders the burden that he could have and failed by his own weakness. he's not sure if they would have ever had a good relationship, isn't sure what to make of that in itself, but it's definitely a matter that he's since now put to rest. there's no sense in agonizing over a man that's long gone and dead. has the grace to admit that there's some skillsets that he wouldn't have had if it weren't for him.
This peace-making with his deceased father informs the rest of his relationships with everyone else, and that in particular with Gabe and Ashe. Where there's a certain part of it where he can understand where the hell they're coming from (empathizing with their hurt) but also being able to not hold it so personally even when they very clearly do. Cole's really not one to hold grudges these days and is more on the side of rising when the other person is adamant about antagonism. Sometimes you end up on the opposite sides of what you believe in, on what you're willing to fight for - and sometimes when compromise is no longer on the table, it's just the hand that you've been dealt and having to go forward with it.
Despite everything, they actually got along over Zorro in their rare moments of peace lmfao.
Bro was also a bonafide hustler and this is something Cole will always give him.
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shipping-receiving · 4 years
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Trivia Tuesday: Some Notes on Full Spectrum
I’m not sure if I’ll return to this story anytime soon, so I thought I’d share a little about what I wish I had done differently, and what I might do if I ever continue it.
First of all, I have to confess that I basically winged it when it came to the plot. The novel on which I based the story has an incredibly elaborate universe, so I needed to figure out how to condense that. Plus, the novel was meant to be the first in a trilogy, but the latter two books have never been published, so I had to make up or gloss over a few things as I went along. Regardless, I knew I wanted seven chapters (seven colours, Seven Kingdoms etc.), so I started off with the chapter titles using idioms/sayings that fit those seven colours. 
The first chapter I wrote was Chapter 4: The Grass is Always Greener (i.e. Jaime and Brienne banging in the meadows of Tarth while tripping on colour), then Chapters 1–3 after that, all while praying that the solution for Chapters 5–7 would just magically come to me. At the end of July my outline for Chapter 7 was still: LOL IDK THEY'VE FALLEN IN LOVE IN A DYSTOPIA NOW WHAT?! So there are a ton of things that I would have changed or included if I had… you know, actually planned everything properly beforehand.
Anyway, some hopes, regrets, questions, and headcanons after the cut:
What I would write assuming the current version stays as it is:
Ideally – though I seriously doubt my abilities to pull this off given the amount of anxiety I experienced regarding all the plot conundrums in this story – I would love to write a trilogy of seven-chapter stories. Seeing as the first focuses on uncovering the conspiracies, the second would involve more political manoeuvring culminating in some sort of revolution, and the third might be… post-apocalyptic? Maybe? Or at least taking place in a kind of unstable version of the new social order.
The second act would also involve a Stoneheart plot, once they make contact with the resistance. This would explore how the Starks’ Purple perception was taken away, and what they know about the Wildfire Protocol.
Along those lines, I’d probably need to figure out J and B’s relationship arcs for the second and third acts. I suppose the most straightforward would be to have her pregnant for the second part, and there’s a time jump in the third part so they already have at least one kid.
I am toying with the idea of writing that epistolary interlude I mentioned at the end of the story. The fic would be entirely composed of sexy letters between Jaime and Brienne while she’s on Tarth (perhaps she’s stuck there for a month or two), but Jaime reveals some of what’s happening with the Council and she discusses what she’s found out from the Stark girls. I was even thinking of hiding the sensitive information in the sexy stuff – code, invisible ink, something like that – so each letter between them might actually have a second letter embedded in it.
I really love the idea of the Wildfire swatch being ‘planted’ all over King’s Landing, not to “burn them all”, but rather as a mass exposure of everyone to the Wildfire Protocol and the ability to see in natural colour. I don’t know how this could be done safely, given the addictive qualities of colour and the general chaos this would cause, but I like the subversion of canon!Wildfire. It might be the grand gesture to trigger a revolution.
*sigh* I might have to write about Shae betraying them. It’s why I tried to be careful to mention that there is hardly any way for her to know that the Stark girls are the Stark girls (it’s not like she can see Sansa’s red hair anyway), even though they stayed at her house for a couple of nights. It’s just so I could keep them protected if I have to.
Now, here’s some parallels with canon that I would make space for if I overhauled the story and turned it into a longfic:
I’d find a way to do Enemies to Lovers instead of Strangers to Lovers. My fics tend to work with the latter, so I’d want to challenge myself in that way. It’ll give me more time to develop the characters and the world as well. In that vein:
I would want to figure out a way for Jaime to be known as the Kingslayer or some equivalent, which would establish animosity between him and Brienne from the get-go. Also:
I would actually write in some form of twincest, though this would likely have ended by the time Cersei marries Robert. The idea of Jaime and Cersei having the exact same Purple perception and seeing the world in the same way (and differently from everyone else) is really ripe for exploring their dynamic and how it became toxic. It’s possible that this dynamic never became (fully) sexual, given the fact that the Colour Perception Test can also function as a kind of rough paternity test, but I think it would make for some great dialogue between Jaime and Brienne as he confronts that past. (I really wanted to write this back when I was planning for this story to switch between Brienne’s POV and Jaime’s, but it became clear that I wouldn’t be able to resolve this comfortably in seven chapters, since I prefer to give the characters time to process.)
By extension, I’m thinking about what it means to “see the world with the same eyes” – and how in canon, Cersei and Brienne are meant to be mirrors of Jaime in vastly different ways. There’s a lot to mine there in terms of Colour Perception (the vision one is born with) vs. World View (the values one cultivates). There’s also some space here for thinking about beauty as being seen vs. the act of looking.
JAIME’S GODDAMN HAND. I never explained how he lost his fingers because… I don’t know. I assume in some kind of accident during one of his scrap colour expeditions. But since its loss is so symbolic in canon, I would want to find a proper parallel for this. Perhaps he loses an eye instead?
And here’s elements from the original novel (Shades of Grey by Jasper Fforde) that I would expand upon:
I’d need to better explain the Chromatic Hierarchy and how it works within the context of a feudal system. Or at least have it make more sense in my head. In the original novel, I think it was intentionally meant to be rotational in some way so certain families couldn’t centralise power for more than a few generations, but perhaps I’ll need to tweak it further to make it fit Westeros.
The original novel had a ‘central government’ called National Colour, which I replaced with the Ultraviolet Council without really having a clue how that might work. Are they a fully functioning government with a civil service? How does that work with a pseudo-feudal system – local/state and central/federal governments?
I might also want to expand on the merit system, which has much higher stakes in the original novel – if you lose enough merits, you’re sent to Reboot (thus far unexplained in the source material). It’s a means of regulating behaviour that I chose to push to the background, but I think there’s potential here for Brienne to lose faith in a ‘moral code’. Reboot could also be the official story for why the Starks were pushed out, rather than relying on the ‘diluted Purple’ narrative.
On that note, I should probably delve a bit more into how scrap colour works, and the whole economy surrounding it. In the original novel, it’s implied that scrap is basically artificially-coloured relics/trash from the past world (our world).
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221bshrlocked · 3 years
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As Sweet As Honey, As Tempting As Death
Pairing: Pero Tovar x Fem!Reader
Words: 18524 (holy fuck this really got out of hand)
Warning: Angst to Smut to Angst to Sort of Fluff. Biblical verses that may or may not be used in a blasphemous context. Incorrect use of a rosary. Dub/Non-con elements due to sex pollen so proceed with caution but just know that both characters have been pining after each other and that the issue is resolved in the end. Some form of voyeurism. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex. Dirty/Sweet Talk. Spanking. Hair-Pulling. Oral (female and male receiving). Creampie. Slight Choking Kink. Fluid Exchange Kink because Tovar is filthy. Overstimulation. Squirting.
Summary: During the two years with William’s company, Tovar has been nothing but hostile towards you, constantly remarking about your religious lifestyle and how ‘unskilled’ you are during battle. But when you get hurt trying to save him, Tovar reevaluates his antagonistic behavior towards you and shows you some kindness. Thoughts of him apologizing are set aside, however, when he finally accepts that he will never have a chance with you upon hearing your prayers. Things take a turn for the worse when he realizes that the knife you were stabbed with was laced with an aphrodisiac and that there is a chance you might die if it isn’t worked out of your system properly. Does he ignore your cries for him and potentially leave you to your death or does he aid you and live with the knowledge that you will hate him forever once you come to your senses?
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A/N: This is born out of some sick part of me that finds it really hot and intense when one character is sexually frustrated and horny but is bound by their religious beliefs. I would say I don’t know what about this really specific “trope” that gets me going but I would be lying. I’m straight up projecting my own thoughts on this fic and I do apologize if this offends anyone’s beliefs. Hell, it offends my own beliefs but- like, there is no going back. Please let me know how I am doing in the comments. Thank you and enjoy. This is not beta’d and I apologize for any mistakes you find. I just really wanted to post this fic so I’ll go back in later to correct them.
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With each passing day, the roughness became a little hurtful, a little more unbearable. But with each insult and passing grumble, you had to remind yourself that life wasn’t fair to everyone, and certainly not to him. It has been almost two years since you’ve joined William’s company and you would have brought it up to him had you been assured that a certain Spaniard wouldn’t bite your head off at the sentimentality. A deep sigh escaped your lips before you could control it and you shut your eyes in an attempt to drown out the deep, sarcastic chuckle emanating from the man behind you. 
“Already tired princesa? Should we stop for the night to allow your highness to rest?” Tovar murmured something beneath his breath and you were sure he was only continuing with his insults in his mother tongue so William wouldn’t warn him again. You, on the other hand, had to bite your lip to refrain from pouting at the snarky comment. The last thing you wished was for Tovar to see your hurt. Not that he would care.
You kicked your horse to slow down and turned the other way just as Tovar passed you, ignoring the way he looked at you as you fell in step with another mercenary, one who’s only been with your group for a month. You smiled at him and nodded when he asked you how you were doing, politely excusing yourself as you looked down at the small book falling apart at your touch. Your eyes scanned the small pages of the Bible, and you prayed for guidance when you sensed a pair of angry eyes throwing imaginary daggers at you from ahead. 
As the sun set deeper into the sky, you helped William set up camp and ignored the teasing remarks Tovar continued to throw your way. The Irishman noticed how hard you were trying to ignore his old friend while also working on the tent and he instantly came to your aid and whispered a joke to you, not shying away from looking at his friend when your laughter rang through the forest. William watched as Tovar narrowed his eyes at him before cursing the two of you as he left to keep watch for the night. When everything was as it should be, you walked around with water and ensured that everyone was hydrated. You were standing with the newest member of the company, Thomas, asking him if he needed anything before you turned in for the night. He shook his head but held onto the wineskin, reluctantly turning towards Tovar before meeting your eyes.
“Would you prefer it if I bring it to him?”
“Thank you Thomas but that won’t be necessary. I’ll take it to him.” You held out your hand and waited patiently for the young man to give it to you, smiling at him and moving to walk past him when he held out his hand and grabbed your arm.
“Why do you not meet him with similar hostility?” You hadn’t expected for him to ask you such a question, and you know very well that Tovar could most certainly hear you when a few leaves broke underneath his feet as he tried to subtly move closer. 
“For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” You tilted your head to the side and smiled at Thomas before patting his shoulder. “Good night Thomas. Make sure you get enough rest.” You didn’t wait for an answer, turning away and heading towards the tree bark where Tovar was standing. You prayed that he would accept the drink and not create any problems but as soon as you looked up and saw the way he was looking down at you, you knew it wouldn’t be so simple. It never was with him.
“Good evening Tovar, would you like some w-” You aren’t able to finish your question because Tovar instantly cut you off with a growled order, spitting down to prevent you from coming closer to him. 
“¡Váyase!” It’s not the first time Tovar yells at you to leave him alone, and you’re sure it won’t be the last, but you swallow whatever you wish to tell him as you nod and leave the wineskin at the roots of the tree. You step away from him without once meeting his eyes and Tovar is sure you won’t say anything else so he looks down at the water you left him only to find you turning around and meeting his gaze head-on.
“Buenas noches.” You offer a smile that Tovar knows is forced and conveys no warmth or affection and he clenches his jaw when he sees you return to sit next to William near the fire. He watches the two of you interact for another moment before he turns around and stabs the tree with his knife. 
“Mierda.” 
Your eyes seek Tovar a few more times throughout the night before you move to your tent, and you ignore William’s teasing remarks when he catches you looking longingly at the grumpy Spaniard just before entering into your shelter. 
“It is a bit ironic isn’t it?” William asks as he moves towards his own tent and he offers a supportive smile when you shrug and look at your feet shyly. 
“Things would be a lot easier if we had control over whom our hearts choose.” You nod at him before bidding him a good night and moving into the safety of your tent. You take a few deep breaths and remove your weapons from your person, setting them down beneath your blankets as you bring your Bible out of your pocket once more to recite your nightly prayers. 
You were never one to question God’s decisions but if there ever came a time when you would, it would be now. You wanted nothing more than to know why Tovar couldn’t stand the sight of you. William assured you early on that it took a while for Tovar to warm up to new mercenaries they met along the road but it was completely different with you. What started out as whispered remarks about your abilities became loud and shameless insults about, not only your lack of skills, but your way of life as well. You weren’t sure if it was you that he hated or your religion, and it didn’t come to matter anyway because in the end, he would need to deal with his maker, not with you. 
But as much as you prayed for guidance and begged for patience, it seemed that the Almighty was electing to leave you on your own when it came to dealing with the man that was Pero Tovar. And no matter how hard you asked for Him to allow your heart to close towards the Spaniard, your prayers were never answered. Instead, you were left with a gaping hole in your heart that you came to realize would only be filled if the man who hated you with every ounce of his being learned to love you. It was a humorous thought and you shook your head at the wishful thinking before turning off the candle you always kept with you.
A few hours later, you wake up heaving and sweating, hands instantly grabbing for the sword beneath the pillow when you hear someone call for you from outside the tent. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, it takes you a few moments to recognize who was standing not five feet away from you.
“It’s your watch princesa...unless you want Th-”
“I’ll- I’ll be out in a minute.” You cut him off and flinch when you hear how hoarse and broken your voice sounds. It takes Tovar a few seconds to respond and you manage to hear a quick ‘bueno’ before he’s moving away. Moving around the tent, you quickly find your coat and put it on, grabbing your weapons and the small book near your pillow before moving out of the tent. You spot Tovar sitting near the fire but elect to say nothing, walking towards one of the water basins and throwing some across your face to freshen up before moving past him to where you would keep watch. Tovar bit harshly into the bread and couldn’t hold back from following your every move, his eyes sweeping over your form and landing on your backside. He barely managed to keep his moan quiet, his mind running away with thoughts of taking you over and over again until you only remembered his name. Until you couldn’t walk without feeling him on every inch of your skin.
He shuts his eyes and tries to remember how you sounded not ten minutes ago when he came to wake you. He could vaguely hear you whimpering inside your tent and almost came in to make sure you weren’t in danger. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t even if he tried. He had no right to do so. And then you spoke so heavily and he almost lost his bearings because he now knew what you sounded like just as you woke up. And he was certain your little sighs and moans would haunt his dreams in the coming nights. 
As if you hadn’t plagued his mind enough for the past two years.
The moon was still illuminating the night sky when Tovar woke up from his slumber and he walked away from the company to try and have some privacy, afraid he would give away his heart’s desires should he remain near the fire and continue to look at you. His ears pick up a faint sound coming from the edge of the trees and he takes his sword out as he approaches the voice, only to find you kneeling down on the floor with your own weapons attached to your back. For a moment, Tovar couldn’t breathe, his eyes taking in your beauty as your eyes remained shut and your lips moved softly. It took him a few more moments to notice the tears rolling down your cheeks and his frown grew when he realized that someone must have said something to you. He sheathed his sword away and was about to announce his presence when he finally heard what it was you were saying. One look at the book in between your knees and his anger came back a hundred fold. Of course you were praying. Tovar shook his head and was about to leave when he registered the words falling from your lips.
“I am weary with my groaning, all night I make my bed swim.” Tovar hisses beneath his breath as his mind conjures up images of your hands twisting your nipples and fingering your tight cunt while he watches you bring yourself to pleasure and drench the covers with your juices. He swallows the lump in his throat when you continue to pray and call for your God. 
“I drench my couch with my tears, my eye wastes away because of grief. It grows old because of all my enemies.” You’re sniffing through broken words and Tovar hates himself for growing hard at the sight of you. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking of you in such a way, especially during this intimate moment. Lord knows the blasphemous thoughts he has are enough to bring him to the depths of hell, but here he was, cupping himself through his breeches as you prayed your psalms and asked for guidance. There was no forgiveness for him, not now, not ever.
“I will lift up my eyes to the hills, from whence comes my help? My- my help comes from the L-Lord, who made heaven and- and, oh god, and earth. Please God, I beg for your forgiveness. The Lord is your keeper...the- the Lord is your shade at your right hand...the sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon- nor the moon by night. Christ, have mercy on me please. I do not mean to have such vile, unholy thoughts...it is not my- intention to...to act upon my dreams. Please, God...preserve my soul.” Tovar’s ears perk up at the sudden shift in your prayers and he maneuvers himself around with stealth to take a better look at you. 
And the twisted, sick part of him swears in gratitude for catching you at such an hour because he’s never seen a more beautiful sight than you in this moment, on your knees, hands clasping at your chest, eyes filled with unshed tears, and breasts heaving with neediness. 
You were magnificent. 
“Lord, I know you can hear me. Please, answer my prayers. I know...for the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep me from doing the things I want to do. Forgive me Lord for I have sinned. I have allowed Satan to make a home in my heart, I- I cannot...I am unable to fight him without your help. For-forgive me...forgive me.” Tovar’s eyes widened in surprise when he heard you, his heart threatening to escape his chest when your words finally sank into his mind. There was no mistaking the implications behind your words. You were having unholy thoughts of a man, and you were asking your God to forgive you for wanting someone. For wanting to be intimate with someone. 
But then Tovar recalled your interactions with Thomas and William, and his heart grew heavy with anger because it wasn’t him you were thinking of. It couldn’t have been him. He’d managed to drive you away, and now you were thinking of someone else worshiping you, kissing you, touching you, perhaps even laying with you and coaxing the sweetest of sounds from your lips.
“My spirit...do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If anyone defiles the temple of God, God will destroy him. For the temple of God is holy, which temple you are.” With those words, Tovar leaves you and returns to the camp, unable to listen to any more of your confessions, especially when he knew they were aimed towards someone else. He recalled what you said last and swore to himself, because he would never...could never tempt you to break your own religion, your sanctity. There were countless times where he wished he could reveal to you his feelings but tonight’s prayers reminded him why he will never have you the way he wished. It was not out of fear of, what was it, God’s destruction, but out of care for your own being, your soul. He cared for you too much.
It’s hours later when the company is moving closer to the city and you focus on the road ahead of you to try and ignore the way your heart skips a beat when you hear Tovar’s soft chuckle at one of William’s stuipd jokes. It was amazing how only the Irishman managed to make him laugh and you wished you could hear it more often but it was not possible and certainly not beneficial to you. You were snapped out of your thoughts when William called for you and asked you to slow down.
“You are sure he is in the next town over?” William inquired after the bounty you were currently looking for, a man who stole one of the local lord’s shipments that arrived from the Near East and was now recruiting more thieves to keep him safe. You took out the note which your contact sent you and showed it to William, about to suggest how you should carry out this bounty when Tovar snatched the paper from your friend’s hands to read it over before throwing it haphazardly his way.
“I would love to know how you came about this information princesa? What did you give your little amigo? Gold, or perhaps it was that honey you searched for everywhere, sí? Or maybe, just maybe...it was something far sweeter than honey.” Tovar knew he shouldn’t be taunting you any further, and certainly not with implications about your sanctity. Thankfully, William snatched the wineskin from your horse and smacked Tovar in his face, growling at him something in Spanish that caused Tovar to look to the side and frown at the floor. 
“I do apologize Y/N. You were saying?”
“I- umm, there was a...my God, I am sorry. The only thing I wished to suggest was to perhaps catch them outside of town so we wouldn’t cause any serious damage to anyone’s home or business. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” And with that, you squeezed the sides of your horse so he could gallop ahead and once you thought you were far enough, you took out your prayers and flipped through the pages. 
Tovar grudgingly followed you to try and apologize for his hurtful comments when he saw you praying again. 
“Lord, how they have increased who trouble me! Many are they who rise up against me. Many are they who say of me, “There is no help for him in God.” But You, O Lord, are a shield for me, my glory and the One who lifts up my head. I cried to the Lord with my voice, and He heard me from His holy hill...I- I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people who have set themselves against me all around. Save me, O my God.” You turn your head around when you feel a pair of eyes watching you, shaking your head when you find Tovar and William making plans while the rest of the company follow behind. No, he didn’t care.
“Why have you not apologized to her?”
“She was praying amigo, I- I cannot distract her when she...when she is having her moment with her God.” Tovar murmures and ignores the sarcastic laugh that erupts from his friend’s mouth.
“You truly are a piece of shit work Tovar. If you care for her this much, why not tell her? Or better yet, stop acting like an imbecile and treat her with kindness. Lord knows she’s too nice with you.”
“Mind your business, sí? You know nothing of what you speak.” Tovar warns his friend with a glare before he kicks his horse and races forward past you and the other men, not caring of how he’d managed to give himself away to William. You look up from your book just in time to see him swiftly moving past you and you’re worried for a moment, turning around to gauge William’s reaction, only to find him avoiding your gaze and pretending to focus on the trail ahead. 
The company reaches the edge of town long before noon and you listen to William as he lets everyone know of the plan. When everyone is sure of their position and part, you go with William and Tovar to the innkeeper and inquire after men that could offer their aid to you since you are to travel throughout the night by yourself and have heard of stories of bandits around these parts. As you wait around for an hour or so, Tovar can’t help but glance at you nervously, a part of him trying to come up with something to tell you that wasn’t filled with venom. You catch his eyes a few times and he turns away when you smile awkwardly at him, ignoring the way William rolls his eyes and nudges him. 
“I do not think they will come.” Tovar comments to himself and you are about to reassure him when you spot the man in question heading your way along with what you assumed were his new recruits.
“Greetings friends, and what a beautiful afternoon to you, my lady.” The man doesn’t give you a chance to step away from him, leaning down and taking hold of your hand before bringing it to his lips. You force a smile and nod towards him, completely missing the way Tovar was mentally killing the disgusting thief with a thousand daggers. 
“We understand you require assistance traveling through here?” The man speaks, his eyes occasionally turning towards you and shamelessly dragging over your figure. You pretend to not notice his actions and clutch the weapon around your back more tightly. 
“We do indeed. And we are willing to pay handsomely. The only problem is, we must leave now if we are to catch our employer before he leaves for his travels.” William speaks his lies with ease and you silently pray that the other men are as dumb as they look.
“And may I ask why your schedule is hurried?” The thief’s voice is much harsher and he stares between the three of you quizzically. 
“It’s quite embarrassing if I do say so myself but,” you gulp before stepping towards Tovar, intertwining your fingers with him before leaning forward and kissing his cheek. You feel Tovar’s hold tighten around your hand but you say nothing, instead throwing your head on his shoulder and wrapping your other palm around his hand as well. “It is slightly my fault...you see, we- oh god, we were wed three weeks ago and our wedding night lasted for- l-longer than we intended. I should say longer than I intended. And we realized too late how much time we lost so- so this is why we need to leave right immediately.” It takes every ounce of control in William not to laugh at the look on his friend’s face and he maintains a neutral expression when the men in front of him glance towards each other and blush.
Tovar, on the other hand, wishes for God to strike him down this instant because you are not only holding onto his rough hands, but you kissed him without thought. It’s embarrassing how hard he is quickly becoming underneath his clothes but the way your lips touched his scruffy cheeks caused his heart to skip a beat. He tried his hardest to rid you out of his thoughts but here you were, pretending to trip over your words as you lied to the men in front of you about how much time he supposedly spent between your thighs.
“Lucky man,” Tovar hears the man whisper to him as he winks and he’s one moment away from taking out his sword and swinging it. But then you’re raising his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles and Tovar all but loses it. Against his better judgement, he turns to look at you and gulps when he finds you smiling up at him with a dangerous glint in your eyes, one that is filled with false hope and wishful promises. His nose flares when he sees you staring deeply into his brown orbs and he instantly turns away, not because he is afraid of you seeing how darkened his pupils became at your touch but because he refuses to see rejection on your expression when you finally notice how hideous he is, how disgusting the scar on his eye must appear up close. 
“Well then, in that case, lead the way, sir-?”
“Oh no sir, my name is William.” William cuts him off and turns to the two of you. 
“And I am Y/N, and this here is the love of my life, Pero Tovar.” You cheerfully respond and ignore the way Tovar clings onto your fingers. He forces a quick smile before he walks behind William, all the while trying to pretend he isn’t losing his soul to the touch of your soft skin on his. He quickly glances at you, his jaws tensing tightly when he finds you completely ignoring him and pretending to look elsewhere.
You can feel the anger shedding off of Tovar and you hope he wouldn’t completely bite your head off when you are alone again. But more importantly, you pray to God that he doesn’t feel your pulse because if he could, then he would know. He would know of everything, of your feelings towards him, of your desires, and finally, of how much you wished you had his last name. William looked towards the two of you a few times and decided to keep quiet until after this ordeal was finished. One glance at the way you refused to let go of his friend’s hands and he knew you were as much in love with Tovar as he was with you.
“Idiots.” William whispers to himself just as he reaches the edge of the forest. He motions with his hand as soon as he spots the three horses tied to the trees and you let go of Tovar’s hands to let the men know that you have arrived. Tovar clenches his fist tightly, already missing the touch of your palm against his own and how safe he felt with you at his side. He clears his throat and walks awkwardly towards the horses, pretending to check on the pouches hanging around. 
“Oh lovebirds, you should have stayed on your honeymoon.” Your smile falters as soon as the man and his friends remove their weapons and surround you. Turning around, you catch Tovar's eyes before he’s running towards you, his sword in one hand and his expression holding a thousand emotions. William whistles from behind you and you immediately hear the faint sounds of horses galloping through the woods. Unsheathing your daggers from their holsters, you plant your feet to the ground and dare one of the men to come forward. 
By the time the rest of the company arrives, you’ve already killed two of the men and are finding it difficult by the moment to fight the one in front of you. There were more of them than there were of you, something you hadn’t anticipated when you accepted this bounty. You’re trying your hardest not to get distracted but it has been a while since you’ve seen Tovar fight and as much as you hate to admit it, he looks absolutely breathtaking, with his eyes full of rage and his lips glistening from sweat and from how hard he’s biting them. 
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not w-want. He makes me lie down in green- green...GOD, green pastures. He leads me besides the still waters. He- he...William watch out- he restores my soul, he leads me in the paths of righteousness. For His name’s sake.” You’re reciting your prayers to ground yourself, swearing when you throw one of your daggers towards one of the men about to attack William from behind. You’re still trying to hold off one of the larger thieves from killing you when you spot the main bounty treading towards Tovar with a large dagger of his own. 
“No, Tovar!” You’re not thinking clearly as you manage to slit your attacker’s throat before running towards Tovar in time to catch the sharp edge of the weapon into your shoulder. Falling back onto the ground, you look up at the man and find him smiling disgustingly at you, already bringing out his other sword as he chases after you. You can’t find it in yourself to stand up and look away, silently praying to God in anticipation of what’s to come. 
“Yea, though I walk through the- the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with m-me. Your rod and...and- Your staff, oh God...they comfort me.”
But nothing ever happens and you reluctantly look up in time to see Tovar holding a knife to the man’s throat. 
“Drop the knife amigo, or I will make you taste your own blood.” Tovar snarls out, all the while looking at you with something in his eyes that you're not quite sure of. The man listens to Tovar’s warning but doesn’t drop his smile, looking at the wound on your shoulder before turning to Tovar just as he ties his hands to his back.
“You are not truly married are you?”
“Cállate...hijo de puta madre.” You struggle to get up, frowning when Tovar swears at the man as he swiftly wraps his arms with rope, perhaps harder than needed. 
“This should be fun then.” You ignore the man’s remarks and look around, finding most of the wanted men either dead or tied to some tree. You catch William’s eyes and nod when he asks you if you will be alright.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to accompany you to the sheriff, William. Perhaps it’s best that you leave me here.” You groan in pain and ignore the way Tovar’s eyes are sweeping over your form. 
“It will take me a day’s journey. Tovar, you will stay with her.”
“No, William that’s not necessary. Please, I’ll- I’ll be fine.” You respond immediately, completely missing the deeper frown that takes over the Spaniard’s features. 
“We’ll be in the inn. See you amigo.” Your eyes widen in surprise at the response but you say nothing, instead walking around to collect your weapons in order to place them on your horse. Within minutes, the company is leading away whoever is alive and taking note of the few that were killed. You remain standing against a tree, holding onto your shoulder as you pray softly for relief. 
“You cannot ride to town like this. Come here.” Tovar grabs your wrist and brings you to a large boulder, pushing onto your other shoulder until you’re sitting down before he brings a small pouch from his horse.
“This will hurt a bit querida.” Tovar gently speaks to you, completely throwing you off with the tone of his voice and distracting you enough to pull out the knife. You scream in pain and reach for his thigh, digging your nails into the muscular flesh just as he throws away the dagger and takes out the wineskin.
“I do not need such vile drinks.” You spit out at him in anger, unable to hold back from crying as he murmurs something before he pours the expensive alcohol on your shoulder. You’re turning away from him and sniffing violently, trying to hold back from swearing at how rough he’s being.
“Vindicate me O Lord, for I have walked in my integrity, I have also trusted in- in...please, no more, it hurts.” You start praying but can’t continue when you feel Tovar ripping a part of your shirt in order to wrap the clean gauze better around your shoulder.
“Cállate...or better yet, keep praying for your God hermosa. Maybe he’ll reach down and help stop the bleeding. We both know you won’t thank me for this.” Tovar is trying his hardest to ignore the way you’re marking his thighs and he shakes his head when his thoughts become more unholy by the second. He imagines you sinking your nails into his skin under other circumstances but he’s brought back to the moment when you obey him and resume your prayers. 
“I have also trusted in the Lord, I shall not slip. Examine me, O- O Lord...and prove me, try my mind and my heart. Ahhh careful!” You’re crying again and it breaks Tovar’s heart to know that he is the reason behind your pain. He wants nothing more than to ask you why you stepped in front of him and took the dagger into your shoulder but he knows you’ll either lie or ignore his question should he inquire. He’s trying to finish swiftly so you aren’t left in the wood alone, or at least that’s what he says to himself so he doesn’t think of how soft and sweet your skin looks beneath his touch
“Stop your whining and take it. We wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t- hadn’t...mierda. No importa.” He grumbles again and looks up at you momentarily, only to find you staring at him with doe-like, innocent eyes. He swears he sees some form of affection pass through them but the expression is gone as soon as it comes and he forces himself to focus on your shoulder once more. He’d already cleaned it and wrapped the gauze around it, but he wants to make sure that the knot isn’t too tight or too loose. 
“For, for your lovingkindness is before my eyes...do not gather my soul with sinn- nghhh-” You moan in pain when he swipes his fingers over your bruised clavicle and the sound shoots straight to Tovar’s cock, causing him to clench his jaw tightly to prevent himself from acting on his desires. His eyes unintentionally hone in on the rosary around your neck and he gulps when his mind instantly imagines his hand wrapped around your throat and grasping onto the beaded chain as he fucks into you mercilessly until every living thing around knows who’s making you scream with pleasure.
“Lo siento.” He whispers to you as he meets your eyes again, and there’s a multitude of confessions in those two words but you choose to ignore them. You choose to ignore the way he looks at you with those hopeful eyes. You choose to pretend that you aren’t wishing for him to lean over and mold his lips with yours. You choose to ignore...so you wouldn’t have to leave him forever. 
“Redeem me and be merciful to me...be merciful to me. Be...be merciful to me.” Your repetition doesn’t go unnoticed by Tovar and he clears his throat before he stands up and helps you back onto your horse. The two of you ride back into town in silence, with Tovar occasionally slowing down to ensure that you aren’t close to unconsciousness. When you reach the edge of the forest, Tovar hops off of his horse and removes his belongings, taking the leather of his saddle and handing it to you before he speaks.
“I will find some lodging with the innkeeper, sí? And you can look around for someone to keep these two until William returns.” He rubs anxiously at his beard and waits for your response, nodding when you look around before replying to him.
“Yes.”
The Spaniard turns around and he only walks ahead ten feet before you’re calling for him. He turns around at the sound of his name and raises his eyebrows.
“Thank you. For caring for me.” You gulp at the intensity of his gaze and barely manage to hold contact with his brown eyes as he flashes you a quick, shy smile. You hadn’t expected to be at the receiving end of such an expression and you held onto the leather between your fingers tightly to try and ignore how fast your heart began to beat. How had you never noticed those dimples before? 
“De nada hermosa.” Tovar is backing away immediately and trying to ignore how his heart is violently beating at his chest from your words. He never thought the day would come where you would thank him for anything and hold such an amount of affection in your tone. But he quickly remembers the events of the last hour or so and shakes his head in irritation.
Why had you taken the dagger instead of him? 
You continue to watch him until he enters the inn, sighing heavily when it finally occurs to you that you might be having dinner with him alone tonight. Slowly making your way through the town, you thought of who you could possibly ask to care for your horses when you spotted a barnhouse just behind the church. When you reached the open door and looked inside, you shut your eyes in gratitude before getting off the horse and approaching the priest brushing a horse.
“Good afternoon Father,” you smile when the older man turns around and nods towards you.
“Good afternoon.” He says nothing else and you wait until he is finished with the task at hand before asking him if you could tie the two horses in the corner.
“My name is Y/N, and I am a- well, coin for hire...Father. And I was wondering if you would be kind enough and direct me to someone who could care for my friends here until the rest of my company arrives?” You nervously pick at the rosary around your neck when you notice him looking at the bible peeking out of your satchel.
“There’s no need, child. You can leave them here and I shall care for them.”
“Oh Father I couldn’t possibly ask you to-”
“Good thing you are not asking then.” He cuts you off with a smile before leading you out of the small barnhouse. 
“Are you otherwise occupied at the moment?” You ask him just as he moves to enter the church.
“I am not.”
“I- I wish to confess.” The older man notices your nervous stance and nods gently before asking you to follow him into the church. You follow behind him, not realizing that Tovar has already made reservations for the both of you and has come out in search of you. He spots you right before you enter the building, his eyes hardening almost instantly when he sees the priest speaking to you before you are both gone out of his sight. 
He walks towards the church but refuses to enter, instead waiting outside until you are finished. Not a few minutes pass and his patience wears out and he murmurs something beneath his breath as he enters the house of worship. You are nowhere in sight and he can’t help but marvel at the religiosity of the space, his eyes shifting instantly to the large cross hanging above the altar. Clearing his throat, he quietly makes his way to the front of the hall and looks up, taking a deep breath and shutting his eyes as he reluctantly falls to his knees. 
It has been long since Tovar spoke to the Almighty but he forces himself to ask for His guidance, if he can call it that, and hopes that he would one day be able to receive it. The moment ends as soon as it begins, however, when Tovar hears the faint sound of sniffling coming from the confession cubicle followed by the familiar sound of your voice. 
He knows he shouldn’t go near the private room. He knows that he has no business listening in on you confessing your deepest thoughts to the holy man. But he can’t stop his feet from carrying him towards the cubicle.
“I- you must know by now what I am required to do in my line of work Father.” Pero hears your soft voice through the quiet sniffles and he clutches the strap around his shoulder to prevent himself from walking into that room and pulling you into his arms. 
“Yes, but you know as well as I that you must voice your sins to me so God could forgive them.”
“I know. I am not sure where I could begin if I am being honest. I do not claim to have any excuses but I want you to know that I try not to kill anyone, not unless I have to. I have killed three men this morning. They were poor souls that stole and killed and needed to be stopped. It does not excuse what I have done but it is what happened.” 
“Let me ask you this, child. Do you kill out of anger? Out of jealousy? Out of hatred?”
“No, no never. I have never hurt anyone in my anger, at least I hope I haven’t. I killed them because they were going to kill me and my friends. I- it...it couldn’t be avoided.” Tovar wants to laugh at your innocence but he remains silent as he listens to the older man guide you through your troubles. If he had a priest like him back home, maybe he would have never strayed from God. 
“Then you have not sinned in the eyes of God. As long as you know the difference, then you are safe from the powers of satan...what else do you wish to confess?”
“There is...there is this man.” At that, Tovar’s eyes widen and he steps closer to the wooden panel to listen more closely. “And I- I have...I have dreams of him. Wicked dreams, images that do not escape me even when I wake.” Tovar bites into his lower lip when he feels his cock harden beneath his breeches and he fixes his clothes quietly before leaning his ears into the flimsy barrier.
“I dream of him almost every night Father and I pray to God every waking moment so he could take them away from me. But they only increase, so much so that I wake up sweating and heaving throughout the night. I do not wish to have such thoughts of him because-” You halt in your words and Tovar hates that even in your confession, you are choosing your words carefully.
“I do not want these dreams and I do not wish to think of him in the ways that I do. But I- I cannot help it Father. I don’t know what more I could do.”
“St. Paul writes in his first letter to the Thessalonians, ‘For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you should abstain from sexual immorality.’ My child, sexual immorality does not only cover the physical actions of the body but the emotional and mental thoughts as well. It is better for you to come forward to this man than to remain in this sin.” Tovar almost growls at the response, hating how the priest validates your beliefs further. 
“That is not possible Father...as much as I wish it, I cannot.” 
They both remain quiet for a few moments and Tovar almost loses his mind when the silence extends. He shuts his eyes and clenches his fists tightly before running out of the church to the barnhouse, multiple curses falling through his lips when he realizes that he will never have a chance with you, especially now that he was certain you were thinking of another man. Unable to hold back any further, Tovar throws his things to the ground before moving to the back of the barnhouse. He stands behind a large tree and makes quick work of his breeches, hissing in anger when he finds himself painfully hard and already leaking precum. Throwing his head back, he spits onto his hand before taking his cock roughly in his palm. Pero moans when he squeezes the crown of his hard dick, his mind finding it much easier to conjure up images of you writhing beneath him in bed now that he knew of your dreams. 
He wishes you had been more detailed, no matter how wrong and inappropriate that would have been. He pictures you sweating and heaving on your hands and knees as he drives his cock deeper into you with every thrust. Tovar’s groans grow louder as he increases his pace and he shivers in need when he imagines you begging for him to take you, to touch you and kiss your tits and perhaps fill you with his seed. The thought of you letting him rule over your body brings him closer to his pleasure and he cries out pathetically as he cums onto the ground, your name like a sweet benediction on his lips as he continues to rub his cock. Pero finally opens his eyes and looks to the blue sky, hissing in regret and feeling a sense of disgust settle into his stomach. He quickly fixes himself and silently asks for your forgiveness, for violating you in his mind and for listening to your confessions. Breathing in the clean scent of the grass, he moves back to the barnhouse and washes his hand quickly before taking his satchel and walking to the shop in front of the church to wait for your return. 
Unbeknownst to Pero, the priest in fact chooses to ask you a more personal question than necessary, inquiring after your strange answer as to why it was not possible to approach this man you speak of.
“He does not love me as I love him. He- he cannot stand the sight of me. I am not sure what I had done to deserve such hatred from him but- it is what it is, Father.”
“You love him.” It was more of a statement than a question and the priest can’t help but shake his head in sadness as he continues to listen to you.
“I do. I love him dearly.” You wipe the tears as they fall down your cheeks, looking towards the light coming through the small window before returning your gaze to the ground again. 
“Hmm...Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.” 
“Father?” You look towards the barrier between you and the priest quizzically, hoping he would explain his response further.
“I will give you an absolution Y/N, but- I cannot help but think that you may have been asking God for the wrong thing. You ask Him to take away these dreams yet you never pray that this man returns your love or, at the very least, become less hostile towards you?” There is almost a humorous tone to the older man’s words and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity because he was right. Granted, it is the last comment you expect from a man of God but it wouldn’t hurt to listen to him.
“N-no.”
“You are correct in wanting to rid yourself of these thoughts, for they are most unholy and they will only lead you to eternal hellfire. But you might find it in your best interest if you pray that God opens the eyes of this man. Ask to know the truth of his feelings and why he chooses to be the way he is. And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” You wait for a few moments before you ask him to give you the absolution. When you walk out of the church a few minutes later, you find it much easier to breathe and you can’t help but think about the priest’s suggestion. Maybe you have been going about this all wrong?
You spot Tovar in the shop in front of the church, but not wanting to bother him, you turn around and move to the barnhouse to brush your horse. Leaning against your horse, you kiss its neck and comb through its hair as you try to push the pain in your shoulder aside. Ignoring the sting of your muscles, you pick up the brush and proceed to massage your horse all the while replaying the priest’s suggestions through your mind. 
When Pero looks up and sees the priest standing at the front of the church and speaking to a young girl, he lets go of the cloth in his hand and moves out of the shop, scanning the street for you. When he doesn’t find you anywhere, he slowly approaches the priest and waits until the young girl leaves before he clears his throat.
“Padre.”
“Yes?”
“There was a woman who entered the church a while ago. She is dressed like me. Have you seen where she went?” Pero is uncomfortable but he tries his hardest to not turn away from the priest’s piercing gaze. He is unsure how you managed to speak to him but he quickly remembers of the barrier between the two of you. But he frowns when the priest doesn’t respond and instead stares at him for a while.
“She is in the barnhouse.” The older man narrows his eyes at Tovar before he turns around and walks back into the church. Tovar is confused and a tad bit annoyed but he thinks nothing of the weird interaction. He scratches his beard as he approaches you, about to let you know that your room would probably be prepared when he finds you whispering to the large animal. He stands at the foot of the door and leans back, finding it calming to watch you interact with the horse.
“He shall send from heaven and save me, he reporaches the one who would swallow me up. God shall send forth His mercy and His truth. My soul is among lions, I lie among the sons of men…” Tovar sighs in irritation when his mind chooses to misunderstand your words yet again and he shakes his head as he swears at himself. 
“My soul is bowed down. They have dug a pit before me, into the midst of it they themselves have fallen. My heart is steadfast, Oh God, my heart is steadfast...ahh, ah- gah…” Pero snaps out of his haze when he hears your cries right as you drop the brush from your hand and fall to the ground. He is beside you in an instant, turning you around and resting you against the wall. 
“Pero…” His expression eases almost instantly when he hears his name on your lips. You’ve rarely used it and he finds himself wishing he could ask you to repeat it over and over again.
“Let me look at the wound-” He asks as he tries to loosen the knot to check on the wound but he senses a shift in your demeanor as soon as his fingers trail over your skin. You gasp at the touch of his hand and move away from him, unable to control the stabbing sensation in your stomach when you feel heat radiating off of his body. Tovar misunderstands your reaction and he looks away shamefully before he steps back. 
“How can I help?” He tries to remain neutral but he is hurt that you think he would ever touch you inappropriately without your consent. 
“I- I umm, the- the lodging.” Your throat suddenly feels dry and you look up in time to see Tovar’s eyes taking in your heaving chest. Struggling to stand up, you grab your belongings and tighten your hold around the small Bible in your satchel, unsure of what to say as the man in front of you continues to stare at you.
“Sí,” Pero responds quietly before he moves out of the barnhouse, ignoring the sounds of harsh breaths emitting from behind him as he makes his way to the inn. You try to catch up with him but eventually fall behind, and you can’t find it in yourself to ask him to slow down so you opt to keep your eyes on him as he moves through the crowded market. When it becomes too difficult to walk, you move towards a stand and rest on it, finally realizing that the dagger must have been laced with a poison. You’re not sure how long you stay leaning against the wall until a pair of hands shake you to consciousness.
“Hermosa, can you hear me?” You open your eyes and find Tovars’ handsome features laced with worry. It occurs to you that the poison might have a hallucinogen because there was no way on earth that this man would ever feel such worry towards you. 
“T-tovar...I- I’m not feeling too good.” You whisper right as your eyes flutter closed but you’re instantly awake once more when you feel Tovar lean down and take you up in his arms. You’re struggling to breathe but force yourself to look at the Spaniard as he rushes through the street. 
“Stay with me querida, por favor.” His voice is frantic yet caring and you don’t take notice of what you’re doing until you feel his eyes on you again as he comes to a halt. 
“Why- why do you hate me?” Pero can’t breathe for a second, not when your hand is skimming over his cheek while the other one rests above his heart, the same one that breaks when your question finally hits his ears. “I- I wish you didn’t...so I could show you how much I- oh, n-no...so we would-” You don’t get to finish your sentence though and Pero watches as you clasp onto your shoulder when it begins to bleed again.
“Mierda,” he hisses as he resumes running towards the inn, not bothering to provide an explanation to the innkeeper as he rushes up the stairs and into the room reserved for you. The man comes behind him and quickly asks him how he could be of service when he sees Tovar undoing the gauze and swearing when the wound appears more inflamed than before. 
“Do you have a healer in this town?”
“Right away sir.” Pero wets a towel before bringing it to your forehead just as the innkeeper fetches a young boy to call for someone. You’re writhing violently and Tovar blames himself for not being careful earlier in the day. It feels like hours have passed by when a knock sounds through the door and in comes the priest.
Anger rises in Tovar’s chest as he walks up to the priest, prepared to draw his sword and kick him out. 
“I did not ask for you, I need a-”
“I am a healer son, of all ailments. Please let me pass or your friend will not have much time.” The priest speaks with patience and he waits until Pero moves to the side before he brings out his tonics and ointments. 
“What caused this?” The priest asks as he removes the gauze completely and attempts to clean around the wound before he decides which ointment was best. 
“A dagger, we were...after some men and I- I was not...she took it instead of me Padre.” The priest grows silent at the odd remark. He is about to ask if the weapon was laced with anything when he notices a strange green substance forming on the edges of the wound. He instantly recognizes the poison and shakes his head. 
“S-save me oh God, for- for the waters have come...come up to my neck. I s-sink in deep mire where- where...where there is no standing. I have come into d-deep, oh god...deep waters. Where the floods overflow me.” You whisper through a haze, vaguely aware of a gentle hand treating the wound on your shoulder before it ceases to move. 
“May god have mercy on your soul…” Pero almost loses all control when he hears the priest’s prayer. 
“Will she die?” He steps forward and asks just as the older man begins to apply a heavy tonic onto the wound. You’re hissing and groaning for a few moments before your frown relaxes just as the priest applies new gauze to the wound. 
He waits until you’ve calmed down before he collects his things and asks Tovar to meet him outside. When they both leave and lock the door behind them, the Priest looks away from the angry Spaniard.
“Padre, please, tell me. Will she die?”
The priest is about to answer when he hears you crying through the door.
“My eyes fail while I- I...please, God...while I wait for my God. Oh God...my sins are not hidden from You, oh Lord...my prayer is to You. Oh God- please...T-tovar- I need...please...deliver me out of the mire and let me- not...not sink. Hear me Oh Lord…”
Pero tries to ignore your cries but he feels his heart give out with each whimper that escapes your lips. And then you call his name and ask for him and he all but loses it, hands shooting to the knob to turn it. He stops, however, when he feels the Priest pull him back.
“It is not wise to go in there my son.”
“Let go of me.” Tovar snaps at the older man, rolling his eyes when he feels the hold around his shoulder tighten.
“There will be many consequences to your actions if you go in there...the dagger that she was stabbed with...it, well, it held a dangerous...aphrodisiac.” Pero’s eyes widen in surprise and shock when he registers the words of the priest and he steps back from the door while looking to the floor.
“If you can go in there and care for her without touching her, then by all means,” Tovar gulps when the priest motions for him to walk right through the room, eyebrows furrowing in frustration when he listens into your pained noises, “but I must warn you to not lust after her beauty in your heart...not let her allure you with her eyelids.”
“Take your proverbs elsewhere Padre, they will not find seed in this heart. How dare you think me of such actions when she’s not aware?” Tovar angrily points at his chest as he continues to pace back and forth, trying to calm himself down as he continues to hear you moaning through the door. 
“Draw near to my soul and redeem it...deliver me because- because...oh Pero. Pero, please. I need you, please. I want you...I crave your touch...your- your lips. I need to feel your skin against mine. Please...pl- oh God, please.” 
“If not for your sake then for hers. You shall not commit adultery. She is a child of God.”
“Was it not her God that allowed for this?” Pero yells at the priest as he moves across the hallway and kicks the wall. He waits for the priest to respond and huffs sarcastically when he doesn’t and remains silent. 
“Answer my question Padre, will she die if- if she remains untouched?” 
“I am not certain...but you must think of your soul as well, no? Whoever looks at a woman to lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” The priest approaches Tovar reluctantly, immediately stepping back when he sees his shoulders tense at his words. 
“Padre, for your sake, I need you to reserve your gospel for someone else. I do not care for my salvation, and if you must know, I have committed adultery a thousand times with her in my heart. I have no need for your absolution nor do I seek God’s forgiveness.” He isn’t sure what brings him to such a confession but he watches the man of God nod silently as he moves away with disappointment written on his features. 
“Then there is nothing more for me to tell you except this...if you do not walk in there and- aid her, she might not make it through the night. But, if you do, then you will have to live with the consequences of your actions. I cannot give you, nor her, my blessings for such immoral activities. May God have mercy on your souls and guide your heart.” Tovar turns away when the priest walks past him and down the stairs. He grasps his sword tightly to try and ground himself, but then the faint groans ringing through the small room bring him back to reality. 
He’s ashamed of how many times he’s thought of this moment. But not once did he think he’d ever refuse to lay with you. Yet here he was, forced to make a decision that would ultimately hurt both of you. If he doesn’t help you, he might lose you forever and he would never forgive himself as long as he lives. But if he does help you, he’d risk losing your trust and your company, and would perhaps never see you again. He’d have to live with the knowledge that you hate him. But you would be alive and well...
There was no doubt in his mind what he needed to do. 
Tovar looked down at his hands and blinked in regret. The last thing he wished to do was to willingly hurt you. But he couldn’t let you die, especially when it was him that the dagger was meant for.
Taking a deep breath, he musters up enough courage to turn around and unlock the door, not bothering to look at you as he enters the room and shuts the wooden barrier behind him. Taking his weapons off of his person, Tovar clears his throat and slowly turns to look at you, his eyes taking in your desperate form as you fisted your hands into the sheets and stared at him with heavy-lidded eyes. 
“P-Pero...god, I- you’re here. Please, I n-need you. You- you’re too far, please, need you, want you...want to feel you. Your- oh Christ, your skin, your l-lips...your tongue- your hands...need you, inside me...please.” Pero almost chokes on his saliva when your desperate words hit him and he remains grounded in his spot as he licks his lips. His cock twitches in his breeches when he notices your disheveled clothing, and he realizes that you must have tried to take it all off but couldn’t tug hard enough. He looks at your exposed neck and clenches his jaw when he sees the rosary nestled perfectly between your sweaty breasts.
Fuck. He knew he didn’t have a chance in heaven but looking at you now, with your body calling for him, he realized there was no chance in hell for him either. Not with what he was thinking of doing to you.
Slowly approaching you, he stood above your shivering form and gently brushed your hair aside, hissing in anger when he found you hot to the touch. There was so much he wanted to say and he figured this was his chance considering how you would probably not recall this night when you wake up the following day.
“Hermosa, I- perdóname. Forgive me for everything I have done to you...and for everything I will do to you tonight.” Tovar’s heart clenches when you take his hand and bring it to your mouth, kissing and nipping and the skin of his palm and wrist until you couldn’t take it anymore. It breaks him knowing that those gentle touches are born out of a hazed necessity and not because you wanted to kiss him. 
“Please...be merciful to me.” Your words echo from earlier through the tense silence and Tovar hates how he longs to hear you pray for him instead. Stepping away from you, he holds his hands up and shushes you as you start to whine again, whispering sweet words down to your aching soul as he strips himself of his garments. You find it difficult to wet your throat and attempt to take off your clothes as well, almost breaking into tears when you continue to struggle with the long-sleeve shirt and your trousers. 
“Here, let me.” You feel your skin crawl with ants when Tovar begins to undo the laces and buttons of your garments, and you find it hard to look away when all you are met with is gentleness and determination. At some point, you swear his hands are shaking and your hazed mind mistakes it for rejection but there isn’t enough consciousness left for you to apologize to him so instead, you grasp on his forearms and dig your nails into his muscles as he rids you of the dampened fabrics hugging your shaking body.
Tovar tries his hardest to not pounce on you as soon as more of your skin is revealed to him and he silently prays for patience when your touches turn rough. He throws everything onto the chair near the bed and returns to you, inhaling deeply when he sees how soaked your chest band and undergarments have become. He’s standing in nothing but his own breeches and he can’t help it when he fixes himself through the fabric, smiling to himself when you whine at the not-so-subtle movement and mirror his actions. He growls when he sees you cup your mound and rub harshly to try and relieve some of the pain. 
“No.” The single command shoots straight to your aching cunt and you instantly remove your hand from your heated skin, looking up at him and silently begging him to take you right then and there. “No, you do not touch yourself when I am here. Your pleasure belongs to me. Your noises...they belong to me, your arousal...every last drop of it, belongs to me. Sí?” You nod frantically and sigh in relief when he moves onto the bed, a little annoyed that he is yet to take off all of his garments. He gently parts your thighs and kneels between them, smiling to himself when he sees your flesh responding so easily to his touch. A part of him feels horrible for what he is thinking but he can’t help but fill his chest with pride at the thought of knowing that no one else has touched you like this, let alone seen you so wrecked and positively...sinful.
“Magnífico,” your hold on the sheets beneath you tighten as more words of his mother tongue roll off of his lips and you bite down on your hand when he pushes your legs up towards you to open you up for him a little more. It’s absolutely filthy what Tovar is doing and he is aware that he should be more gentle with you, perhaps move slowly since you have never had such contact with a man before, but he can’t bring himself to hold back, not when you were looking at him with those pleading, innocent eyes. 
He leans down and shuts his eyes as he pushes his nose into your undergarment, moaning lewdly when he fills his nostrils with the scent of you. 
“Dios mío...your smell querida, it’s as sweet as honey.” Tovar mumbles against your heat, smiling devilishly when he notices your eyes widen with embarrassment at his comment. In the blink of an eye, he’s fingering the edge of the flimsy material and violently pulling it off of you, throwing it behind him haphazardly before he sinks in between your thighs again. He doesn’t give you enough time to prepare for him as he hungrily licks at your wet pussy. You briefly think you should feel ashamed for what he’s doing to you, or perhaps beg him to not be so forward and filthy with his sounds. But the thoughts roll away when he growls against your slit and your back arches painfully off of the bed when you feel his tongue licking into your heat. You aren’t sure how to convey to him the immense pleasure he is bringing to you so you settle for grabbing his hair and screaming his name over and over again. The sting his scruff is offering you soothes the pain in your muscles and you silently pray for him to become a little more aggressive with his touches. 
Tovar becomes a crazed man when he hears the way his name falls from your tongue like a prayer and he grabs your hips harshly before bringing you closer to his mouth. He continues to look at you as he tongue-fucks your cunt, unable to comprehend how this moment was real. He closes his eyes again to savor the taste of your juices flowing so easily into his mouth and moves one hand to your backside, squeezing and slapping your ass as he zeroes in on that bundle of nerves. Your hold on his hair tightens but Tovar enjoys being at the receiving end of those rough touches. He continues to lap at your cunt, occasionally switching to sucking on your little nub until you let go of his hair and grab at the sheets. 
Pero feels you coming on his tongue but he can’t find it in himself to stop, wanting to commit every single moment to memory. He momentarily moves away to nip at your thighs and just as you’re beginning to come down from your high, he shoves two fingers past your slit and returns to mouth at your clit. 
You try to sit up on the bed but one hand across your navel pushes you back down again. You aren’t sure if you want him to stop or keep going but you feel that familiar tug at your lower stomach again and before you know it, you’re hitting that delicious peak once more. You aren’t aware of what happens when you fall back down again though. All you can feel is your body shaking and your chest heaving as Pero refuses to let you close your legs. 
At some point, he finally shows you mercy and removes himself from you, and it takes you a few moments to open your eyes and will yourself to look at him. Your lips part in shock when you see Tovar licking his arms like a starved man, not realizing what has happened until you look down and see the soaked sheets beneath you. You’re mortified and attempt to close your legs but Tovar stops your movements with a dangerous smirk, raising an eyebrow as he looks down and sees his chest also soaked with your juices. You turn away from him and try to hide behind your arm but he’s falling on top of you and removing your hand before he turns your chin so you could finally meet his gaze. 
“My delicious little princesa...don’t shy away from me cariño. I want you, all of you...whatever you wish to give me.” A small part of you is aware that he is only speaking those words to put you at ease and help you through your predicament, but a more desperate corner of your mind tells you that he meant every word he said and that you should trust him. You’re aware of how dangerous this could be but you can’t find it in yourself to care as you lean up and kiss his chapped, plump lips. Tovar is taken aback from your forwardness but he meets your motions with as much vigor, lapping and sucking on your tongue until he feels your hips meet his shallow thrusts. You moan lewdly when his clothed cock pushes against your heated core and Tovar takes this chance to shove his tongue into your mouth, not caring for how messy and how unskilled you were. He would teach you tonight, even if it was the only night he would spend with you. 
When your fingers tangle in his hair and pull it on, Tovar growls and pushes up away from you. You have a few seconds to prepare for the onslaught of his hands as he attempts to rip the chest band off of your body. He is silent when you are finally naked to his eyes and you feel self-conscious from how quiet he’s grown. You move to cover yourself but Tovar is taking hold of your wrists and slamming them above your head, eyes boring into your hazed ones before he descends on your breasts. You throw your head back when you feel his tongue swirling roughly around your nipple, arching your back further into him when he pinches and twists the other one between his calloused fingers. You’re torn between begging him to slow down and screaming for him to take whatever he wants. It seems that Tovar knows what you crave though because he nips at the hardened peaks until you’re writhing beneath him. He looks away for only a second to take in how absolutely wrecked you look before he takes the other nipple in between his lips and sucks on it, groping the other and not caring for how wet and messy he’s left you. 
His treatment of your body only makes you more needy for him and as you’re about to beg him to give you his cock, Tovar pulls off of you before swallowing your moans again, keeping both of his hands on your tits and playing with them as you gave yourself over completely to him. It creeps up on you without warning and you’re screaming his name as you feel your cunt clench around nothing. Tovar pulls off of you and watches as your body shakes with pleasure at his ministrations, smirking when he sees the rosary sliding against your heaving chest. It’s almost taunting how it looks back at him but he pays it no mind. He swears in his mother tongue when he looks down and sees your cunt contracting violently and gushing more arousal. You’re finding it difficult to breathe as his fingers trail down to your thighs and push them further so he could take a better look at you.
“Did...did you just-” Tovar isn’t able to finish his question because the look you’re giving him is anything but innocent, and your little nod is the perfect boost for his ego because he’d just managed to make you cum from only touching your tits. He’s distracted when he sees your hands inching towards the tent in his clothes and he doesn’t stop you when he feels the warmth of your palm seeping through and engulfing his cock. You’re tugging and squeezing with curiosity in your eyes and Tovar loses his patience, slapping your hands away as he just manages to take the last article off. He’s kneeling in between your legs and smiles to himself when he sees your widened expression at the size of him. 
“Don’t worry princesa, I’ll go slow...for now.” Goosebumps erupt on your skin at the implications behind his words and you’re snapped back to reality when you notice that Tovar stretched his hand and kept it against your lips. 
“Escupe,” you have no clue what he just said but when he opens your lips and shoves his fingers into your mouth, you get an idea of what he wants. Reluctantly, you spit in the palm of his hand and grip the sheets tightly when he keeps his gaze on you and spits on the same palm as well right before spreading the mixed juices across your slit. You’re turned on by his forwardness and brace yourself for what’s to come, already feeling your stomach burn with need when he takes longer and touches himself. You watch as he coats his cock with your juices, mind slowly falling into a haze when you see how he tugs and rubs the aching tip of his dick. 
“Are you ready for me mi amor?” He’s massaging your inner thighs, eyes keeping you captivated as you nod and inhale deeply in preparation for him. Tovar sighs as he takes your hand in his before he slowly inches his cock into your cunt. The two of you are hissing and Tovar thinks he’s died and gone to heaven with how tight you feel around him. He nudges further into you and continues to whisper in Spanish when he feels your muscles tense.
“Relax for me querida, please. I could make you feel so good. Relájate. Don’t want to hurt you mi cielo.” He leans down and gently rubs at your neck, licking and kissing down your shoulder until he feels you ease around him. Moments later, he can feel you twisting beneath him and he realizes that you’re telling him you’re ready. Without a warning, Pero snaps his hips and sheathes himself fully inside you, his cock twitching at the whines and whimpers you were whispering in his ears when he broke your barrier. He’s trying his hardest to remain still so he doesn’t hurt you but then you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and molding your lips with his. It should not have been like this, he thinks. But he let’s his selfishness take over because if this were to be the only time you’d ever let a man touch you, then he was glad it was him and not someone else. Someone whom he knew would never feel this deeply towards you. 
“Please...move, I need- I want...it hurts. I want you to move Pero...oh god, Pero..Pero, you’re so...so hard for me. Feel so full, oh Christ, feels so good.” There’s something about hearing you moan his name along with the name of your God that makes him feral and he sits back up again, taking hold of your hips and ensuring that your eyes are on him before he pulls out and thrusts his cock back in. You dig your nails into the bed when you feel every ridge and vein passing against your walls, biting into your lower lip to stifle your moans. 
“Fuck...eres perfecto.” Tovar wanted to savor every moment, to commit this to memory so he would revisit this night time and again until his life on earth was finished. But he couldn’t hold back, couldn’t go slow even if he tried, not with how tight you were clenching around him and how wet you became the harder he filled you with his cock. You were a sight to behold, face scrunching up in pain and pleasure, some drool rolling from the corner of your lips as you sighed and begged him to take whatever he wanted from your body. 
“Better than any fucking dream hermosa...mierda, I- I could spend an eternity between your thighs and never wish to leave. You’re, fuck fuck ah f-fuck...you’re so much better than what I imagined. So sweet, so warm...and so- goddamn- tight.” He pronounced every word with a harsh thrust of his hips and you cried out as he took his pleasure and coaxed another orgasm out of your pussy. You grabbed his forearms when you felt your stomach flutter, and threw your head back when Tovar noticed you coming undone once more. He picked up his pace, switching his attention from your facial expressions to where you were joined. Letting go of one hip, he spat on his thumb before laying it on your clit and rubbing furiously to prolong your peak. You barely managed to open your eyes, turning to look at him as he continued his assault on your skin. Your chest tightened at the thought of never being with him again but you forced yourself to not think of the following day. There was tonight, and you would take everything and give him all that he wanted. After all, there was no truth behind his words, just the heat of the moment. Or perhaps it was him speaking of his triumph over you, someone he’s loathed for wasting her time on what he called a ‘false God.’ 
“P-pero...yes, oh- Pero, Pero...fuck, please.” 
Pero held your gaze as he let go of your waist and fell on top of you, one hand quickly wrapping around your throat as he pushed agonizingly slowly into you. There was something different in his eyes and you weren’t sure if it was affection or despise but you looked away from him instantly, afraid he’d see how you feel about him. Tovar misunderstood your fear for disgust and he snarled in anger as he tightened his hold around your throat until you turned to him again. He met your lips with an aggressive kiss and continued to push his cock deeper into you until he felt your nails digging into his back. He swore when they trailed down his muscles to his backside, forcing him to thrust a little quickly. 
“Who knew princesa...that you were nothing but a filthy fucking whore. Begging to be fucked...to be filled over and over again. Shit, this cunt, so tight and wet for me...you’ve no idea how much I craved this...craved you, to touch you, kiss you, mark you as my own...my whore, my innocent whore.” His words should have hurt, but you found yourself growing wetter just from hearing him call you his. But it was the twisting of the knife to hear him confess of how he craved you. You knew as well as he that this was far from the truth. But you found yourself ignoring the heartache just to enjoy him and the sensation of his skin sliding against yours in the throws of passion. 
“You’re getting close again cariño...fuck, I could- ahh ahh, could feel you swallowing my cock sweetheart. Come on, cum for me. Cum for me one more time, let me feel you coming on my cock like the good little girl you are. Please, mi amor…” It was almost as if your body had a mind of its own because at his words, the familiar knot in your navel untwisted and you arched into him as you came with a silent cry, hand grasping to the one holding your throat and pushing down on it to make him grip you tighter. 
Tovar shuts his eyes and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, refusing to reveal any more of himself to you. You’ve rejected him several times and he couldn’t bear the thought of thinking him more of a monster as he reached his pleasure. 
“Oh god, oh fuck, I- mi amor. Te amo más de lo que nunca sabrás. Ah, god f-ffu…” Against your better judgement, you let go of his hand and push them into his hair, forcing him to look at you right before you met his lips. He’s growling and almost sobbing with want as he fills you with his seed, never once halting in his movements as he pushes his cock deeper inside you. You lose yourself into the kiss, unable to put together a coherent thought as you feel warmth spread where you are joined. This kiss is more desperate, and you’re not sure if it’s because of Tovar or because of you. 
His chest tightens painfully when he looks at you and sees tears in your eyes. He’s not sure if you’re crying because of him and he’s about to ask when you push him off of you and onto his back. Maybe you’ve finally come to your senses and wanted him t-
Tovar chokes on air when you slither between his legs and take his cock between the warmth of your hands, not giving him a chance to say anything as you lean down and take him in your mouth. “Hermosa, you- oh fuck, you don’t have t- oh gah.” He’s twisting your hair in his hand when you try to take him as far back in your mouth as you could. It’s messy and filthy and you’re inexperienced but he finds your attempts to pleasure him the most beautiful sight in the world. He can see cum and saliva rolling down the corners of your mouth and he grows harder at the thought of you tasting yourself and him on your tongue. 
He swears you might be the devil incarnate when you take him out of your mouth and kiss the underside of his cock. It’s such an innocent gesture but his cock twitches, and then you’re licking across the protruding veins and he all but loses it. 
“Shit, you l-look so beautiful mi amor, mouth full of my cock. Can you taste yourself? Go on, tell him how we taste...please, tell me.” You continue to mouth and nip at him, occasionally massaging the base of his cock and biting into his thighs when his hold tightens around your hair. 
Tovar feels his cock harden the more you give it attention and he begrudgingly pulls you off so you could answer him. 
“Tell me mi amor.” 
You’re not sure why you choose those words and you hope he understands the implications behind him without you needing to bare your soul to him any further
“As tempting as death…” 
The words are an arrow piercing his heart and he shuts his eyes for a few moments to collect his bearings before he’s roughly pulling you off of him and bringing you to his lips.
“Ven aquí y bésame! I want to taste us.” He shoves his tongue into your mouth and hums in approval when he can vaguely taste his seed and your arousal mixing with your scent. He’s not sure what brings him to do this but Tovar pulls back far enough and he maintains eye contact as he spits into your mouth, biting into his lower lip as he watches you make a show of swallowing his spit. You part your lips and breathe in his natural musk before you lean over and kiss his jaw. Momentarily distracted by your sudden need to show him affection, Tovar doesn’t notice you moving up his chest until your lips are trailing up the scar across his eye. He shakes in need when you kiss it over and over again, whispering quick apologies and wishing you could have been there to prevent him from being hurt. 
Tovar is no longer able to discern what it is you’re feeling. One minute you’re hiding yourself and turning away from him, and the next, you’re worshiping his cock and his scars as if he was yours. He decides to blame it on the poison and the wound-
The wound.
Pero pushes on your neck harder than he intends and he apologizes when he’s met with a shocked, hurt expression.
“Lo siento mi amor…” He whispers kindly to you as his eyes take in the wound on your shoulder, sighing in relief when he sees that the Priest covered it well. Little amount of blood managed to seep through the coverings but it wasn’t enough to alarm him. “I needed to ensure you aren’t hurt, forgive me hermosa.” Tovar explains again and watches as you visibly relax against him. 
“Come here,” you obey him as he pulls you into his arms and lays behind you, telling you to rest before the poison takes hold of you once more. You feel rejected, wishing you could tell him that the fire in your stomach and your lungs is returning already. But he’s done so much for you throughout the night and he deserved more than this. More than you. It wasn’t his duty to aid you through such a circumstance and yet he took it upon himself to do so.
Tovar wraps his arms around you and hopes you don’t pay any mind to his already hardening cock. He wants to slide into your cunt again and fill you up, but he doesn’t want to take more advantage of you. Not when you were hurt and vulnerable.
You try to get some shuteye, and you do for a little while, but you’re no longer able to quiet down when you begin to feel your skin crawling with ants. You’re sweating again, and your breaths are coming in quickly when you finally wake up and feel the pins and needle pain jabbing in your lower stomach. It’s your little whine that breaks Tovar’s daydreaming and he’s turning you around to take a better look at you.
“What’s the matter mi amor? Did I- did I hurt you?” You’re shaking your head violently at him as you’re turning in his arms and before he could try to figure out what it is you want, you’re getting on your hands and knees, ass in the air and face turned to him with an expression that he’s never seen before. 
He gulps at the sight before him and looks at you, rubbing at the scruff of his beard before his eyes widen in shock when he sees your hand reaching down and swiping across the mess seeping out of your cunt.
“I need you Pero, need you to- fuck me. Please, fuck me. Mark me and fill me up with your seed. Want you to use me for your pleasure, use me however you want. I- I can take it. Just- need your cock.” The sound of your pleas is music to his ears and Tovar is moving to kneel behind you in the blink of an eye. He kisses your lower back as his hand pushes down between your shoulder blades until your face is flush against the dampened sheets. You shiver when he trails his fingers up and down your back, smiling when he nips and kisses your round ass cheeks. Tovar bites into the skin of your backside and lightly spanks you when you try to jump away from him.
“My pretty girl wants me to fuck her again. You’re so wet for me hermosa, so ready and needy. Tell me, tell me how much you crave my cock.” He takes hold of his dick and swipes it between your slit, chuckling to himself when he sees the way you’re looking at him.
“Pero, don’t- please don’t tease. I burn for you, ‘ve dreamt of- oh I, I need your cock inside me. I really need you to fuck me, to- to-” You’re tripping over your words and Tovar knows he shouldn’t blame you for your lack of coherence but he’s living for how crazed you are. He pushes his cock into your fluttering walls and doesn’t miss how awfully tighter you feel around him this time around. You’re shaking with lust but only scream his name when you feel the palm of his hand landing on your ass one time after another as he fucks you without remorse. You lose count of how many times he spanks your ass and you don’t care because as soon as he stops and slips his other hand down to your clit, you’re seeing stars and groaning as pleasure courses through your veins. 
Tovar hisses at how tightly your cunt clenches around him and he’s suddenly in need of feeling your skin against his. Shoving his hand into your hair, he violently pulls on it until your back is flush to his chest. 
“That’s it querida, scream for me. Scream my name mi amor, so- fuck ah ah shit, so everyone knows who fucks you like the filthy whore you are. Go on cariño, sing for me. Feel me, pray for me. Dios mío, I’m- I won’t last mi cielo. You’re too good, too sweet, my heaven. Everything my heart desires...yearns for, lives for. Oh fuck, oh god- go on mi amor, cum for me. One more time, please. Need to feel you squeeze my cock one last time...just once, please. Fuck ah fuck I-” Tovar bites down on your shoulder as he thrusts into you, his rhythm forgotten as he fills your womb with his seed. You’re a quivering mess in his arms, relishing the harsh touch of his scruff on your heated skin. He moans your name when he feels you contracting around him, one arm wrapped around your chest and cupping your tits while the other is twirling around the rosary on your neck. 
You lose all sense of reality and time as Tovar slowly pushes you to your side, his cock somehow still hard in your cunt. You’re both heaving when Tovar takes the rosary from around your neck and holds it in the palm of his hand. 
You’re dozing off again but a harsh pinch to your nipples brings you back and you’re turning around just in time to see Tovar licking the beads that go around your neck before he drags the rosary down your skin. You’re not sure what he’s playing at until you feel the individual beads twirling in the mess of your combined juices. He’s rubbing your slit with the necklace and collecting your mixed arousal and your eyes widen in horror at the filthiness of the action. Tovar’s hand moves from your breast to your neck, aggressively turning your head around so you’re looking into his eyes as he brings the rosary back to your mouth.
“Open your mouth querida...and taste us.” You silently obey him and let him push the holy object into your mouth. You’re unable to hide how thoroughly you’re enjoying this and Tovar leans forward to lick in your mouth, smiling devilishly when you try to chase his lips as he tries to pull away.
“Sleep mi amor, you need to rest.” Tovar takes the rosary from your lips and throws it around his own neck. You turn in his arms and nuzzle into his chest, silently praying that he doesn’t regret this the following day. 
“Please be here when I wake up.” You murmur in your sleep and Tovar’s heart breaks into a million shards when he realizes that things will be different once the two of you awake the following morning. 
He’s not sure how much time passes but he spends every second looking at you, memorizing your calm expression and how at ease your muscles feel under his touch. He doesn’t want to go to sleep, not when he knows this would be the last time he’d be able to be near you in such a manner. When he tries to move to get a drink of water, your arms wrap tightly around his chest and bring him closer to you. He’s smiling to himself and brushing your hair aside to kiss you, laying his head back in irritation when he notices that the darkened skies are turning a lighter shade of pinks and blues. 
Tovar shuts his eyes and doesn’t bother to wipe the tears away when he remembers the events of the night. He’s torn himself into bits to ensure your safety and although he was of sound mind when he walked into this room, he never thought it would hurt this much to leave you. 
When the chirping of the birds rings through the morning light, Tovar takes a deep breath and turns to you, kissing you one last time on your forehead before he loosens your hold on him. You frown for a moment in your slumber but remain unmoving as he dresses and leaves the room. He’s holding fast to the rosary around his neck as he walks to the barnhouse when he sees the Priest unlocking the doors of the church. 
The older man takes one look at Tovar and nods in understanding. 
“Is there anything I can help you with my son?”
“Thank you but no Padre.” Tovar walks to his horse and whispers his good mornings to the animal, sighing deeply when he hears footsteps approach him.
“Is there anything you wish to confess?” Tovar snorts a laughter before he turns around and attempts to hide his sarcastic remarks. “How long do you have Padre? Because I assure you, I have not confessed since I was a little boy.” Tovar is thankful that the priest understands the implications behind his words because he smiles and pats him on teh back before heading towards the church.
“My door is open should you change your mind.” Pero nods at the older man before he returns to attend to his horse, his mind recalling every second he spent worshiping your body and how sinful his name sounded falling from your lips.
It’s not until the sun is shining in the middle of the sky that you finally come to your senses. You open your eyes and look around the room for a moment, unable to recollect how you became in this room. When you take in a deep breath and smell the musky and heavy scent of something alien to your senses, memories of the previous night come crashing into your mind and you sit up instantly. You’re frantically looking around but there is not a single sign of Tovar. Removing the sheets, you flush at the sight of the mess that meets your eyes before you cover yourself once more.  
It was no dream then. He was here, in your bed, pleasuring you all night long.
Images of the Spaniard hunched over you and driving his cock into your cunt flash into your mind’s eye and you’re hiding in your pillows when you remember what he’s said to you and what you moaned for him in return. 
But not everything that comes through your hazed memories was pleasant and you remembered some of the things he’s whispered to you, and the last request you asked of him. You wished him to be here, even told him so and he was gone. He chose to leave you alone after laying with you. 
A loud knock came through the door and you tiptoed to the barrier to ask who was calling on you.
“Miss, I was told to bring you a hot bath. You want me to come back another time?” A young girl half-yelled from the hallway and you thanked God you didn’t have to walk around the rest of the day with the stench of sex and god knows what else sticking on your skin.
“No, no. Now is perfect thank you. Just, please give me a moment to collect my bearings.” 
Tovar remains in the barnhouse all day long, not trusting himself to leave for fear of seeking you out. He dozes off at some point, and dreams of your sweaty skin sliding deliciously against his as you ride his cock and cum around him. He dreams of your lips softly caressing his own as you beg him to take you over and over again. He dreams of your soft hands massaging the pain away as he kisses every inch of your skin. He dreams and dreams until the neighs of the horses wake him from his sleep. He sits up immediately to inspect them only to find your beast beating down its hooves as it nudges its head outside the barn windows. Looking outside of the door, Tovar is planted in his place as he watches you make your way into the church. There is a hurry in your footsteps and he can barely make out the expression painted on your beautiful features. He ceases to breathe when he notices your furrowed eyebrows and the way you wipe frantically at your cheeks.
You’ve been crying. And he is sure he is the reason for your tears. For your regrets. And for your broken vows. 
Tovar is incapable of moving a muscle and he knows very well he is the last person you probably wish to see. Grabbing his belongings, he struts back to the inn and ascends to his room, pausing for a moment to look at your door before he pushes into the one across and slams the wooden barrier behind him. 
Back in the church, the Priest can only stand aside as you kneel at the altar, crying and begging God for forgiveness. 
“For...for I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. Against You, You only, have I sinned, and done this- this...oh Christ, this evil in Your sight. Hide Your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. Do not cast me away from Your presence, and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me. Please...my Lord, my God...a broken and a contrite heart, these, O God, You will not despise. Forgive me, have mercy on me. I have sinned before You and I- I have no one else to comfort me. Oh God, I- from the depths of my heart, I beg for Your forgiveness and I ask for Your guidance. I cannot lie to myself any longer, nor can I hide from him. He is my...my everything. Forgive me, f-forgive me.” You’re openly weeping in your hands as you stand and move towards the exit, coming to a halt when you see the Priest standing near the candles.
Walking towards him, you wipe the tears away and look to the floor as you come to a stop in front of him.
“How are you feeling this morning?” His voice is kind and calming and you silently thank God for sending you such a messenger. 
“I cannot lie to you Father, I have seen better nights.” You smile nervously at him and he returns the gesture, nodding in silence before he asks you to walk with him. 
“As much as it pains me to admit this to you, I- I cannot bless your relationship with this man.” You nod in affirmation as he brings you to the door of the church and stops. “I understand that last night was a difficult trial for you, and in a way, for him as well. But you know now, that it has become a temptation...should you, should you choose to go to him.” You can tell he is both sad and uncomfortable by the words he’s speaking to you. 
“I understand Father. But, I- if there is a slither of a chance that I could be with him, I must take it. I must. Forgive me.” You gulp nervously before you move past him and out the church, wiping the tears from your eyes as you make your way back to the inn. As soon as you walk in, you head to the innkeeper and ask him if he’s seen Tovar. He trips over his words and avoids your gaze, quickly telling you that he saw him ascend to his bedroom not too long ago. You thank him before heading up to his chambers, silently begging for your heart to slow down before you knock on his door. 
Taking a deep breath, you raise your hand and knock three times, furrowing your eyebrows when you are met with silence. Knocking once more, you wait with patience and begin to feel nervous when Tovar doesn’t respond. You’re about to try one last time when the door swings open and causes you to almost trip as you back away. 
Tovar’s furious expression melts away at the sight of you, and he barely holds back from pulling you into his arms and comforting you. 
“What do you want?” You wince at his tone and feel your chest tighten when he doesn’t move to let you in. 
“I- I wish to s-speak with you. If- I mean...if that is alright with you.” You’re stuttering again and Tovar finds it endearing that you’re somehow nervous in his presence when, not hours ago, he was pulling the most beautiful sounds from your mouth. Reluctantly, Tovar steps aside and lets you into the room, waiting for you to halt in your steps so he could remain as far away from you as possible.
“Speak,” he knows he should be more kind, a bit softer at least. But he can’t bare his heart to you again, not when you’ve come here to reject him, or perhaps tell him that you couldn’t remain in the company anymore. 
“I- about last night...I wanted to- that is, I’ve been...I was wondering if you- oh God.” Tovar can barely understand a word you’re saying and his impatience is growing by the second so he does the only thing he is capable of.
“You don’t have to say anything princesa, I know.” He pulls you away from your thoughts with a gruff response.
“Y-you do?”
“It was nothing, a mistake. We will not speak of it to anyone, sí?” Tovar snarls the words at you and it takes everything not to break down in front of him. So he’s known of your feelings, and he called what you’ve done last night a mistake. Who knew that rejection could hurt this much.
“Oh. I- I see.” Your voice breaks as you continue to ring your fingers nervously, unsure if there was anything left for you to say. Tovar is confused by your body language and he almost steps towards you to take your hands in his own and comfort you, but he stops himself. 
“So all of what- what you said to me was, it was just in the heat of the moment?” You can’t stop yourself from asking him as you look at him with hope in your eyes. There must have been some truth to them. There had to be. You don’t realize you’re stepping closer to him until the next few moments pass by. 
“You, I- I gave you everything that I am. Everything that I’ve kept for- for decades. And you’re telling me there isn’t a single ounce of affection in that god-forsaken cold heart of yours? I- what more do you want from me? I have nothing else that isn’t yours. Please, I- oh god...” Tovar is shocked at the turn of events and he doesn’t stop you when you begin to beat his chest until he sees how much you’re hurting your own hands. 
“Hermosa what-”
“I’ve given you my body, my- my heart...my soul. And you- you stand there and mock me with how little I matter to you.” You know you shouldn’t admit any of those affections to him and yet you’re incapable of hiding any longer. Tovar’s arms are suddenly tightening around your shaking form and you find yourself calming when you breathe in his scent. 
Tovar wholeheartedly believes he is dreaming because he is sure you would never say such words to him. He gives you all the time in the world to take your frustrations out on him, softly shushing you and rubbing at the back of your neck when you begin to sob again. You’re not sure how much time passes and when you finally pull away, you’re met with a soft pair of brown eyes that carried the weight of so many secrets in them. 
“Hermosa, I-”
“I’m sorry, that was...you didn’t deserve this. I- I should go.” You’re about to slip from his arms when Tovar pulls you back in and molds his lips with yours in a chaste kiss. You let him walk you to the bed and sit you down, never once letting go of him as he keeps his skin on yours. 
You want to ask him a million questions when you finally pull away, but your eyes shift to the beaded necklace around his neck and you recognize it immediately. Rubbing the rosary between your fingers and his chest, you look into his eyes once more and understand what he was silently telling you. What’s been hidden in those venomous words he’d thrown at you ever since you joined the company. 
“Pero.”
“Mi amor, forgive me. I never wished to hurt you so. I- I hoped that you’d one day return my feelings but- I...mierda. I tried to come to terms with your vows and I failed. I’ve been selfish and… last night was, it was- it was the best night of my life. But I knew that you would regret it once you woke up and I couldn’t be there when you looked at me with mistrust. I wish I could tell you that I regretted it...you weren’t yourself and it was, it was against your will. But I wouldn’t take back a single moment. Not one. You were finally in my arms querida and it was everything I’ve prayed for.” Your heart is beating violently at your chest and you swear he can probably hear it.
“Pero, I- I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long. I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t you.” Your confession is enough to break down all of the walls he’s built ever since you came into his life and he’s smiling at you before he remembers how you came to this moment. You frown when you watch his smile fade and he turns away from you.
“No hermosa. I- I cannot do this to you. Last night was...forced. I cannot tempt you to break your vows again. I love you Y/N. More than you will ever know. I cannot be the one to come between you and your God again.” You cease to breathe when you hear him admit that he loves you with immense ease. And you decide then and there what you want. 
“Pero, I do not see a life for myself where you are not in it. Where I am not sleeping in your arms every night. I cannot lie to myself anymore. I- I love you. You have my heart. Believe me when I tell you that I choose this for myself.” Your words ignite a fire in Tovar’s chest and he almost cries at what you were willing to do for him. 
Silence grows between the two of you before Tovar breaks it. 
“Marry me.”
“W-what?”
“Marry me hermosa. Marry me and you do not have to disobey your God, and I- I will be with you until the day I die.” His exclamation is beyond shocking and you’re not sure what to make of it because as far as you can tell, he is right.
“Tovar, I- you must understand that you need to be baptized to marry me?” You’re not sure why you ask him such a question but you want to be certain he understands what he is walking into. 
“No I do not cariño, I’ve already been baptized when I was a young boy.”
“You’re Catholic?” 
“By birth...but you know as well as I that I have not practiced in a long time. I- I can try to if you wish me t-”
“I could never force you to do something your heart does not long for. As far as I know, and in the eyes of the church, you need only be baptized.” You shrug, your mind already running with thoughts of how the Priest in the village would react when you return to him alongside Tovar. 
“So you will marry me?” Tovar is beaming with joy at your rationale and he’s squeezing your hands, praying you would end his agony and agree to become his wife. 
“Yes, a thousand times yes.” You jump into his arms and meet his lips once more, savoring the natural taste of them and moaning against him as he deepens the kiss and twists his tongue across yours. You feel his hands skimming down your form and you sigh when he grabs your backside and pulls you into his lap until you’re straddling him.
“Tell me mi amor, is it a sin if I make love to my future wife?” He’s kissing down your chin and nipping at your neck, making it difficult for you to form a coherent thought yet again. 
“Hmm, I’m not- oh God...I don’t know Pero. But- I...I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t confess about later.” You squeal when Tovar turns the two of you around and pushes you beneath him. There is a dangerous glint in his eyes and you twist your fingers in his hair to bring him closer to you. 
“In that case,” Tovar looks up towards the ceiling and you raise a curious eyebrow at him before he returns his attention to you once more, “forgive me Father, for I am about to sin.” 
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Translations (please message me to correct the Spanish): Princesa - Princess ¡Váyase! - Go away! Buenas noches - Good night. Mierda - Shit Cállate - Shut up. Hijo de puta madre - Son of a bitch. Querida - Sweetheart Hermosa - Beautiful No importa - It’s not important or it doesn’t matter. Lo siento - I'm sorry. De nada - You’re welcome. Padre - Father Sí - Yes Perdóname - Forgive me. Magnífico - Magnificent Dios mío - My god Cariño - Dear/Honey Escupe - Spit (imperative form) Mi amor - My love/My sweetheart Relájate - Relax (imperative form) Mi cielo - My heaven Eres perfecto - You’re perfect. Te amo más de lo que nunca sabrás. - I love you more than you’ll ever know. Ven aquí y bésame! - Come here and kiss me!
Biblical References (because I can’t not footnote and I am shameless) Matthew 6:14-15, Psalm 6, Psalm 121, Galatians 5:17, 1 Corinthians 3:16-17, Psalm 3, Psalm 23,  Psalm 26, 1 Thessalonians 4:3, Matthew 7:7-8, John 8:32,  Psalm 57,  Psalm 69, Proverbs 6:25, Exodus 20:14, Matthew 5:28,  Psalm 51
Tagging some people who showed interest in this fic: @blueeyesatnight @purple-mango @mouthymandalorian @namay @kesskirata @starlightmornings @pedro-pastel @the-ginger-hedge-witch @pedropastelpascal @mothandpidgeon @romanosgirl1978 @littlebopper96 @fan-of-encouragement @feelmyroarrrr @metalarmsandmanbuns @tremistqueen @sebastianruinedme @im-not-great-at-making-up-names @a-bang-for-your-bucky @queensoybean @kat-r-in @blackmarketmummy @fleurdemiel145
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emmys-grimoire · 3 years
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Lesson 52 analysis + 53 predictions
Turning this into a routine thing now! They’re fun to write and they’re popular (moreso than my actual commentary posts lmao).
Y’all like my ramblings.
Things guessed correctly from prior lesson
The House of Lamentation was an illusion produced by the fairies
The arc culminated in the completion of the Trial of Patience (star received via Simeon)
The illusion did a number on Simeon's feelings as well due to his fondness for Lucifer and the brothers
They shoved Mammon and Luke off to the side and plopped them back in only after the Satan/Simeon arc was complete. There was no arc for Luke. To be fair, though, they did get more content than I expected even so.
Things guessed wrong
The banshee didn't show up at all. It was a red herring.
There was no significance to the geranium found in the mysterious book
Our adventure also completed the Trial of Generosity. (I incorrectly attributed this to Diavolo, who actually gave us the Star of Gratitude)
Still ???
Whether or not there is some kind of transfer of memories/experiences going on between the brothers' past selves and present selves due to our meddling in time. We've confirmed that past angel Beelzebub has turned into a glutton in between the time we last saw him and now, but we haven't confirmed if it *is* our meddling that has induced that. Currently, no change has manifested in the present brothers, nor has the timeline of events seemed to have significantly changed.
Whether or not present Lucifer becoming more "angelic" in season 2, in lieu of past angel Lucifer's growing doubt, will be a significant plot point. The parallels are getting stronger, though. (This is elaborated on further down)
It feels like 50/50? I’ll probably keep a list like this going for future analysis/prediction posts just so I can keep track of how right/mistaken I am throughout the playthrough. Might help me make less mistakes in my analysis!
As a general rule I try not to meander too far off into symbolism or out-of-game lore because what I write begins to sound like this:
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And this is an otome game that is light on writing and plot. Nine times out of ten, it’s not going to be that deep. So I work with the details given and the plot points shown and try to draw connections within the framework of the story, in an attempt to try to deduce where the devs are taking the plot. Unfortunately for me, the devs like red herrings, and red herrings are designed to mislead you. With me, they are quite successful! I’d like to get better at spotting them.
The book was consequential -- it’s used to imprison Satan later -- but that’s the end of it’s meaning. Maybe the Bible verse had something to do with it, too -- those were some weird ass numbers to just throw in the title -- but maybe not. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. 
But enough of that, onwards! We have a lot of points to go over that may be interesting to note, right or not.
Satan the Memory Thief
Back in 50-B we learn that it was Michael who taught the brothers the stories behind the human world constellations. 
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When we’re tossed back in time-dreamland (?) again, it is Satan who takes the opportunity to teach the brothers the human world constellations. The room had just been remodeled: Michael hasn’t had the opportunity to give them tours yet. Lucifer mosied into the room so he and the brothers can get the first glimpse.
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Sooo if in a future lesson we ask them about where they learned the constellations in the present timeline and they say “oh a guy named Sully, who suspiciously looked just like Satan, taught us!” then we know our meddling is having significant consequences.
It IS worth noting that unlike the prior dream sequence, Satan and Simeon remember what they just went through. This particular time-dream could very well just be an illusion meant to give Satan/Simeon some kind of emotional resolution and nothing else. This is kind of why I hate that they’re bring time travel back into the story: it makes stuff like this confusing and borderline inconsistent. Some sequences may have effects and others may not. 
The chat between Lucifer and Simeon could also be consequential.
“Do you *really* mean that?”
There is a parallel at play here!
After you wake up after dozing off, you go off to find Lucifer and Simeon conversing in a forest clearing, evidently unaware that you’re eavesdropping on them. Simeon says although he knows it is just an illusion, that he was glad to see angel Lucy once more. Angel Lucy is predictably confused, and reassures Simeon that they’ll remain like this forever.
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Simeon, of course, knows better. He tells Lucifer that he knows he’s been meeting with Diavolo and he’s having doubts about his place in the Celestial Realm -- and if things really will remain the same. Lucy is caught off guard, and starts to explain with some clear hesitation... and of course we pass out before we could hear his answer.
There’s creepy loud heartbeats when it fades out. Normally I associate them with tense, pivotal decisions -- but it could also just be related to us waking up and returning to reality.
If Simeon ends up being wrong -- and there will be real world consequences to this conversation -- they could be very significant consequences. We’re not sure if the conversation continues for a bit longer after we pass out, but Simeon already woke up before we come to.
Obviously the brothers still fell (they’re still demons in the present), but I wouldn’t underestimate the potential of a butterfly effect changing the circumstances of the Great Celestial War. I kind of hope they don’t do that, though, because they haven’t even begun to explain the present details of that event. We know only the broad strokes. Suddenly changing them to make the resolution between the demons and angels more smooth will feel really forced.
And that parallel I mentioned: Diavolo expresses similar worries and doubt in Lucifer’s conviction in season 2.
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I have no doubt Lucifer actually means what he says to Diavolo, unlike his dialogue with Simeon, but Diavolo is aware of just how far Lucifer will go for the sake of his family -- and he’s probably #2 on the priority list, when push comes to shove. Lucifer forsaking the Celestial Realm for Lilith was the thing that brought him to Diavolo in the first place.
Of course, this lesson has Simeon suggesting that Diavolo’s influence on Lucifer was significant prior to all that unfolding, and it may have eventually happened regardless. It was only a matter of when, not how.
Still, Lucifer be writing checks he may not be able to cash. We also get this foreboding warning from Barbatos in Season 2:
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As I’ve said before, the inevitable conflict the story was hinting to at this point doesn’t happen in Season 2. Lucifer isn’t forced to make a choice like this. The Night Dagger didn’t demand it.
I’ve also expressed my belief that Season 2 and Season 3 were likely written back-to-back due to the small window of time between their releases, so I believe details overlooked in Season 2 may suddenly become more relevant in Season 3.
It’s worth remembering Diavolo’s growing feelings for MC -- and Lucifer’s inner conflict about it -- were hinted at early in Season 2, as well. It doesn’t really get going until the conclusion of Season 2, leading into Season 3.
Do I have any clue of what this is actually leading up to? Not at all! If it mirrors Season 2′s format, though, it’ll suddenly come to a head in the last 3-5 lessons. I remember feeling equally clueless then, and Season 2 had a lot more foreshadowing...
... a lot of which actually didn’t pan out! But it might now. 
Guardian Angels
Another smaller, but interesting detail. Guardian Angels are indeed a thing.
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I think they’re gonna become a thing soon. The devs very sneakily changed a small detail in Season 2, suggesting they might have realized that it may interfere with their plans for later seasons. 
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Old version.
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New version.
I’m thinking they may have decided giving Michael guardianship of an entire swath of the population was cheating, and they may be individualizing the role of Guardian Angels.
Which leads me to who I think Michael’s chosen human squeeze is:
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My man has been scoping him out long before we came around.
It makes sense, too. We know Michael gave his Ring of Wisdom to Solomon, which seems to have kickstarted his career as a demon-pacting sorcerer (though he clearly was a sorcerer before this).
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This is a very powerful item, described as the Ring of Light’s counterpart, that would be very useful for a high-ranking angel to possess. I don’t think Michael would fork it over to just anyone, particularly when we remember how he felt compelled to interrogate us via dream hi-jack before the Ring of Light fully came into our possession.
Solomon also makes Michael angst in a way a well-meaning but misbehaving child would make their parent angst:
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Solomon also really doesn’t seem to regard Michael like some distant, all-powerful alien being who could smite him out of existence.
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Contrast this with how he responds when he’s forced to hang out with Diavolo for a day (he gets more comfortable, but he initially wants to punt the responsibility back to Lucifer ASAP).
And he knows a surprising amount of small details about the guy:
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I think Solomon is a significant part of Michael’s long-term plans, but he may not even be fully aware of how. Or he is, and they’re in some kind of mutually beneficial agreement -- possibly related to cross-realm peace -- that we simply haven’t been made aware of yet.
Personally, I think Simeon should be made MC’s ‘official’ Guardian Angel if they’re gonna be a thing with official mechanics behind them. I know Michael is supposed to be the Big Cheese and ridiculously hot, so it may make sense to have him linked to the MC of an otome game because they’re super special too, but Michael may already have Solomon. He shouldn’t get to hog everything. It’s not like assigning Simeon to do job would really inconvenience him, either: MC is Solomon’s apprentice. He can easily work with the arrangement.
Luke may feel left out but he’s a kid so...
Seven Brothers Constellation
We learn there’s a constellation representing the brothers in the Celestial Realm. Everyone there knows the legend, but Luke doesn’t know what the three stars ‘watching over them’ represent. 
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He, Mammon, and Satan begin to theorize and Satan suggests they may represent the three realms. The other two like the idea, and Mammon insists the ‘human’ star represents MC. 
He’s probably right, but I’m willing to take it a step further: it represents MC, Diavolo, and Michael. The three “guardians” of their respective realms, and the brothers. Season 3 has been repeatedly beating us over the head with how much Michael still cares for the brothers and his relevance to their upbringing, and likely their future.
It bears repeating: Diavolo and Michael are aiming towards the same goal, though their visions of what peace and harmony looks like may be very different.
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Solomon could also qualify as a self-appointed guardian, but I think he lacks the connection to the brothers MC obviously has.
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Still, he has the same resolve, and he’s not leaving the story any time soon.
Predictions
I sniff out even the smallest Michael details because he’s clearly the key to whatever is gonna blow up.
This might give us some insight on how the initial dealings with him may unfold:
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It’s hard to deduce just what this actually means. Either Michael tends to overthink things that just aren’t that deep (can empathize) and that in itself leads to needless complications, or he’s apt to misread situations and as a result gives poor advice. Or a combination of both.
My initial read on him makes me think that he thinks the best of humans/angels but the worst of demons. He is very, very complimentary towards MC as soon as they start answering his questions.
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Am I now? Really?
It could just be the game making characters butter up the MC to make the game more enjoyable for the player of a self-insert character, but dude we just met.
When you tell him you did what you did out of love for Lucifer:
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That’s a very telling pause/ellipsis. It’s like his brain momentarily short-circuits and he needs to regain his composure before he continues, and he still doesn’t sound entirely sure of what you just said lol
He also just outright admits he initially thought you must be wicked just because the brothers liked you, and this is a guy who is still fond of them himself. I think he’s having a very hard time with it.
So the inevitable bumps in the roads ahead with him will likely be a result of this, and/or his dad being an asshole. Neither he or Diavolo are actually in charge of the realms they’re overseeing -- they’re both de facto leaders -- so maybe the parents will suddenly barge in and try to knock over their sand castles for whatever reason. It is kind of weird that the exchange program has been agreed to in the first place, particularly on the Celestial Realm’s part.
Regardless, I have no clue what the next arc will be. I know we still have three trials left, but they could combine two again to leave more room for the actual storyline to progress. The climax is going to be the last trial of our sorcerer’s exam, or something happening afterwards. Not sure which one I’m willing to bet on yet: I remember Simeon’s play and the silly Blood Moon contest in Season 2 were what kept use preoccupied for Season 2 until SUDDENLY LUCIFER GETS AMNESIA AND THE WORLD IS IN DANGER AND WE HAVE TO STAB HIM TO SAVE EVERYONE. But they did heavily foreshadow that in the very beginning lol. They just didn’t fill in the blanks until much later.
I wonder what the trial of chastity is gonna be like and how hard we’ll actually fail and the game will need to overcompensate for that
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azure-steel · 2 years
Note
AU where instead of whittling wood at the bar, Cloud does tattoos for Tifa's clients.
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HC/AU Asks - ALWAYS ACCEPTING @ivory-paragon
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Okay, so let me start by saying that when I received this, I was sitting in the studio like a sack of shit just idling through my phone after finishing for the day. And I HOWLED like a dog when when I saw it xD
Secondly, if we're going to try and apply my rendition of Cloud's artistic talent to an occupation like tattooing.. oof... are his clients going to be in for a bad time! But anyway, let's just imagine that this AU could possibly be a thing~
Tattoo Artist AU? Are you kidding?? xD
So I think it's safe to say that tattoo artists definitely exist in the FFVII verse, given that massive monstrosity of a thing Barret is brandishing on his arm. Fight me if you want, the thing is AWFUL and I (as a tattoo artist) would have done my best to try and talk him out of it, gun hand swinging in my face or no.
So yeah, there are tattooists in that verse, though whether they are proper establishments or these people are working out of the trunk of their car is anyone's guess... so if Cloud was to take up something like that, even as a hobby, I would like to think that he didn't just buy a cheap machine from some back alley shop and start carving into his mates, but received some proper training on how to use his machines, power supply, stencil application, blending techniques so on and so forth (Please believe me when I say that if you don't know what you're doing with these things, you have the potential to cause some quite substantial damage to your client. It's a lot more technical than some folks believe or understand, bear with me on this... xD)
But... in all honesty, Cloud's style would possibly be quite basic. A bit of old school 90's Tribal, some blackout shading, maybe even a skull here and there, or a flower or two. But if he's any tattooist (Hobby or no) worth his salt, he won't be scratching them out in a bar room setting!!
>>Also, you're really not suppose to tattoo someone who's already had a skinful of ale!! Alcohol thins the blood and it can get VERY MESSY. Plus the risk of the client passing out or getting sick in the chair would be much higher. I've had someone throw up on me at work too... it's... it's not good, man.<<
Maybe, let's have him convert a section of his garage into a clinical clean room, set up an autoclave, an ultrasonic cleaner, room for inks, power supply, and of course comfy chairs for he and his clients.
Maybe the chairs are shaped like mini Fenrir's, like those novelty kiddy chairs you see in the hair salon, now wouldn't that be super neat??? (Where can I buy me one of those...?)
But... even with all that, I'm not sure if Strifey would have the patience for something like this. Tattooing is quite a slow process depending on the design and the complexity of the piece, a piece of solid black tribal can look simple enough but I've done plenty which has taken me up to 6 hours which only fills the top of an arm, not to mention each area of the body has different skin textures which can make that process easier or extremely difficult (For example, the neck, ribs, sternum and the back of the thigh can be quite difficult area's to work on)
Not only all that, but he's so very heavy handed. If you let this boy loose on your skin, you gonna wish he went back to working with wood xDDD
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msommers · 2 years
Text
just sitting here thinking about how i’ve managed to connect so many of my da ocs no matter how quick the interaction just because it’s fun. like this is so silly
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meredith:
met mila when she visited kinloch hold during the events of dao, they had a handful of conversations during her time there before the warden’s party departed. she likes mila’s vibes bro, they’re kind and entirely without bullshit. she’s firm in her defense of the mages without being overly aggressive about it and that’s smth she’d respect. also the potential there for mila to be a mage that meredith specifies if she has to contact kinloch hold sometime in the next 5 years (before mila escapes) for any reason.
met jorina during the denerim alienage quests in dao, though their interactions then were somewhat brief between all the work meredith was doing and how shy jorina was. meredith and alistair helped jorina in convincing her siblings to be brave enough to run to safety before the darkspawn attack on the alienage as they had been frozen in place beforehand. jorina took up the crown’s offer for an education sent to anyone in the alienage who would like it and they had many encounters after that during jorina’s teachings and then further when she became a cartographer, and meredith was also the one to suggest jorina join the inquisition as a scout. not Quite an older sister energy, but hovering close to it. 
mila:
is the mother of jaime, though the templars took him away from her before the night she gave birth to him was over. finds him 16 years later sometime during the events of dai :’)
met jorina when the warden gang travels to skyhold in search of jaime and other warden objectives probably. i’d say they were acquaintances at most but if aleksi and gwyn discover their shared family ties then there might be more time spent together between these groups and they could get to know each other a little more
met greer the same way as jorina while at skyhold. some details could change depending on if greer’s the inquisitor or just a companion, but they’d still end up building a connection because of greer and jaime’s relationship. add on top that i think mila would find greer’s Passion for the mages cause very admirable and it would help to inspire the old feelings she used to have before they were slowly dulled by the years of circle life, they would bond over having lived in those spaces.
jaime:
greer was one of the first mages, or The first mage he met after being brought into the circle and she took him under her wing to protect and teach him. they’re very close after spending many years together in the keep and then sticking together afterwards during the mage-templar war. he was brought with her to join the inquisition, though he took more of a passive and supporting role by hanging back at the bases to make potions and help the wounded. 
met jorina after joining the inquisition. i don’t think they’d be particularly close but they certainly would have interacted plenty of times because of working for the inquisition, between him giving potions to groups for their travels, the times he’s healed her or her friends’ injuries, and some occasions of ending up spending downtime in the same places. (nobody tell him that i told you but he also prolly thinks she’s kinda cute. don’t TELL him i said that tho he’s babey and would be embarrassed) 
greer: 
would meet jorina at haven during dai events. they’d probably be closer in verses where greer’s a companion, though they’d still know each other decently well when she’s the inquisitor as well. a lot of their interactions happen during war room meetings our out in the field when jorina’s giving her reports on the lands and whatnot, though i could see them on other occasions holding conversation during downtime and the like. greer really likes her scout reports because they have a fantasy tldr at the top so she doesn’t need to spend forever reading through the pages if she doesn’t have the patience or time
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rosemaidenvixen · 3 years
Text
In the Fullness of Time
Chapter 4: Years Past
Ao3
Content warning: Classist language, Violation of bodily autonomy without knowledge or consent
Merlin swore as the carriage went over yet another bump.
“A thousand pardons Lord Merlin sir!” Galahad called from outside “Road’s a bit rough out this ways,”
Rough, that was a gentle way to put it. Was this an actual road or were they driving over a legion of troll remains? This was no way for a Master Wizard to travel, but where he was going his preferred forms of magical transportation would not be...well received “How much longer Galahad?”
Without warning the carriage jerked to a stop, Merlin letting out a whole string of curses as he was nearly thrown from his seat.
“We’ve arrived! Mind your boots, ground’s a touch muddy,”
“...Thank you for the warning,” Merlin grumbled, getting to his feet and opening the carriage door.
If anything Galahad had understated the conditions. The road, if one applied the term quite loosely, was nothing more than a coarse dirt track that went from the larger, more maintained road to their destination. Thoroughly churned by countless wagons and boots until it was a quagmire of mud and rubish, reaching ankle deep in places.
Merlin let out a sigh, resigned himself to the inevitable filth, and stepped down, grimacing as his boots sank into the muck. The small company of knights around him dismounted with a clatter of metal and leather. Galahad himself hopped off the front of the carriage and jogged up to face Merlin “What are your orders sir?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Merlin said while gracefully stepping around the knight “You and your men may stand down, I shall deal with this myself,”
Moving with surprising speed, Galahad ran forward and once again blocked his path “With all due respect, I cannot do that, the king’s orders are that all unregistered magic users be investigated by a company of trained knights, no exceptions,”
Merlin barely suppressed a grumble, it was rather impressive how Arthur managed to be both brilliant and a fool “Very well then, set up a perimeter around this…” he glanced warily at the buildings ahead of them “village...don’t want any surprises coming in or getting out,”
“Right on then,” Galahad turned towards the knights “You heard the man, spread out and surround the village! No surprises in or out,”
The knights all rushed to obey, Galahad joining them, as Merlin walked up the road straight into the thicket of buildings. He could have easily handled this by himself, no need for busybodies gumming up the works. But Arthur insisted on the knights’ presence to...what was it? Reassure the masses…
Merlin spared a glance at the people of the hamlet as he passed through. 
Men and women in clothes just as patchy and ragged as the buildings around them lined either side of his path. As soon as they noticed his presence they parted like all of the sea, ducking inside buildings and hurrying down alley ways. Some peeked at him out of cracked windows and doors while speaking to each other in hushed whispers. A precious few stood their ground, glaring openly at Merlin as he passed by, nearly drawing a laugh out of the Wizard. 
Ignorant rabble the lot of them. 
Fools who spent their lives with noses buried so deep in the dirt they couldn’t be bothered to look up at the stars.
There had been a time in his youth that he longed to teach people like these. To use his powers to help those that lacked the tools to help themselves. To bring enlightenment to those that clung stubbornly to the dark.
Had he ever really been that young?
Merlin shook his head to dispel the daydreams. 
More likely than not this so-called sorcerer was someone that happened to swear right as a pitcher of milk was falling to the floor. Soon enough Merlin could clear this all up and be on his way. As it was all he wanted was to get back to Camelot and have his boots cleaned to a polish. 
A space opened up in front of him as he reached the heart of the village, Merlin paused and glanced around. Most decent sized settlements surrounding Camelot had a central building of sorts, usually used for storage and official gatherings. Even smaller communities had squares that served much of the same purpose.
This town, if it was large enough to truly be considered that, had neither of those things. The only sort of central feature present was a modest stone well, which a large crowd was gathered around.
“--which is why we need to burn him!” a woman’s voice screeched “We cannot tolerate this evil blight in our midst!”
“And anger the demons who made him? Are you mad!? No, we have to sink him in the bog, give him back to his own,” 
“I’m not touching him! You know what Fae do to those who mess with them and theirs, best to wait for the king’s men to come, let them deal with--”
“We’re wasting time! Just give me a barrel and a cartful of peat and I’ll do the job myself!”
Merlin cleared his throat softly, just loud enough to make the gathered crowd turn in his direction. Upon sighting him nearly every one of them gasped and staggered back in alarm. Only three held their ground, two men and a woman, the one who so fiercely advocated for burning if he remembered right.
He allowed his face to mold into the placating smile he so often used when discussing magic with those who hadn’t the slightest idea how it worked “Good morrow to you folk, I am Merlin Ambrosius, here on behalf of the king. Now I understand you’ve been having trouble with a sorcerer?”
One of the men, the one in charge if his slightly cleaner coat and trousers were anything to go by, stepped forward and stammered out a response “Y-- yes, we have him locked up for now, but there’s no telling what kind of curses he’s brewing,”
Even with all of Merlin’s considerable patience, he was barely able to keep from rolling his eyes. These simpletons wouldn’t know a curse if he conjured one up right in front of them.
Well time to go clear this up and let the village goat herd or whoever it was out of wherever they’d penned him up “I promise you have nothing to fear, a squadron of the king’s best knights are here with me and they will allow no harm to befall you. Now take me to this sorcerer of yours and I will deal with him myself,”
The crowd visibly relaxed at his words; or more precisely, upon learning of the knights’ presence, the village headman slowly nodding at him “Follow me then,”
Merlin allowed himself to be lead to the far side of the village, with the rest of the group trailing behind. No doubt curious about his powers as much as they feared and despised them. The headman stopped at the edge of the buildings, pointing into the trees beyond “He’s in there,”
A cave barred with a wooden door was built into a hill a short distance away from the village proper. A space no doubt ordinarily used for storage now converted to a makeshift prison cell.
The headman twisted his cap in his hands “So...how long will it take you to--”
“That will be enough,” Merlin waved him off “I’ll take care of everything from here on out,”
The headman swallowed hard but still stepped aside to let Merlin pass, striding towards the cave. None of the villagers followed him, of course not that he expected any of them to.
Reaching the cave door, he opened it a crack and poked his head in. It was too dark to see the contents of the cave, the light of the open door doing little to penetrate the gloom.
“Hello?” Merlin called into the dark cave “Anyone in here?”
No reply from within the cave was forthcoming. Merlin remained standing in the doorframe in silence for a few moments. 
His patience was rewarded when a soft sniffle broke through the silence.
Merlin blinked in surprise. Well that was...unexpected.
He opened the door all the way, banishing some, but not all of the shadows. Allowing for his eyes to adjust just enough to see a small figure huddled in the far corner of the cave.
A child, dark haired, a boy by the looks of it, sat curled up on the floor of the cave. And by the look of how dirty and disheveled he was, he had been in here for some time. Clear tracks ran down his cheeks from where tears had cut through the dust. The child wasn’t crying at the moment, though whether that was due to exhaustion or dehydration remained to be seen.
Merlin strode over, slowly as not to startle him, and got down on one knee a few feet in front of the boy “Hello there,”
The child said nothing but followed him with his eyes, clearly trying to gauge how much of a threat the Wizard was.
Merlin gave his best, non-threatening, smile “Let’s lighten things up a bit, shall we?” he held out his palm, and with the barest breath of effort a green witchlight flared to life there before floating up to the cave ceiling, filling the small space with emerald light. 
A parlor trick by his standards, but it served as a good example to those not versed in the subtleties of Wizardry.
The child lifted his head to stare at the witchlight as it ascended to the roof of the cave, mouth open and eyes large with wonder.
“Now tell me young one…”
Aware he was being addressed, the child tore his gaze away from the ceiling to stare back at the Wizard, wariness coming off of him in palatable waves.
“Can you do anything like that?”
Merlin expected the child to shake his head, or at the most mumble a soft no. So it came as no small shock when the child raised his own tiny palm and stared at it with furrowed intensity.
His astonishment was even greater when cerulean sparks flared to life in the boy’s hand.
They flickered for a few seconds before going out, the boy letting out a small puff of exhaustion as they did.
This was no charlatan or victim of coincidence, this boy had actual power. And for someone of his age to even attempt to mimic a spell after only seeing it performed in front of him once…
This boy had potential.
And Merlin would be damned if he let such potential waste away in a dank cave.
Merlin got down on both knees “What is your name young one?”
“Hi-- Hisirdoux,”
“Well then Hisirdoux, what do you say we go outside and discuss things further?”
“I...I can’t…”
“Of course you can, others may not like what you can do but if I say you can leave no one will stop you,”
“But…” Hisirdoux raised one of his arms ever so slightly, a soft clink of metal accompanying the action.
A sound no louder than a cricket’s chirp, deafening to Merlin’s ears.
“Boy, show me your hands,”
Hisirdoux complied, stretching both arms out in front of him, allowing Merlin to see crude iron shackles wrapped around his wrists, sloppily fastened to heavy chains bolted into the cave wall.
Merlin had been millenia old even before Camelot was founded. He’d watched empires rise and crumble. And he’d seen every manner of cruelty that humans could inflict on each other. By now there was no atrocity that was capable of shocking him.
This however, gave him pause.
“Hold still Hisirdoux, let me get those off you,”
Merlin moved closer, raising a hand over Hisirdoux’s wrists, gently probing into the shackles with his magic. 
Elemental iron was the antithesis to magic and could impede it in any form, from raw ore to rusty nails, but it’s true power of binding lay in its shaping. Molding the earth and bending it your will, ingenuity triumphing over the unknown. And a clever and experienced Wizard such as himself could see through the patterns of iron’s construction and unravel it.
It was not difficult, these shackles were especially crude. Hastily hammered together from materials never intended to bind. Probably why Hisirdoux was still able to manifest some power. So it only took a minute, then a flick of his fingers and the shackles fell to the ground.
However the damage had been done.
Hisirdoux whimpered, gently poking at one of the angry red burn marks with a wince. 
Merlin laid both hands over the boy’s wrists.
“Sana et integro,”
Bands of green light bloomed to life and wrapped around the burn marks, slowly fading as they sank into the skin, taking some of the bright redness with it. It wouldn’t heal Hisirdoux completely, but it should end his pain for now.
However he would carry the scars with him for the rest of his life.
Had his neighbors known how badly the iron would injure him, a young child fresh into his magic, or had they merely been concerned with sealing his power away at any cost?
The real question was if any of them bloody cared.
“Better?”
Hisirdoux nodded with a sniffle.
“Good,” Merlin reached over and gently cupped his chin, the boy flinching at the contact, tilting his head up to look him in the eye “Hisirdoux, what I can do and what you can do is called magic, the ability to channel the arcane energies of the universe to bend them to your will,”
Hisirdoux said nothing, merely stared up at him with wide, but not frightened, eyes.
“You are capable of so much more than you know, and if you become my apprentice, I can teach you how to wield your powers to their fullest potential,”
“B...but I don’t want to be an apprentice, I want to stay here with mother and father,”
Merlin held back a sigh of disappointment. Hisirdoux might not have realized it yet, but he had no home here, not anymore. No matter, that truth would make itself known soon enough, the only thing to do was get it over with as quickly as possible. no reason for Merlin to prolong the inevitable.
“Very well then,” Merlin stood and extended his hand “I will take you to them,”
Even though he was far from being moved by such things, sentimentality being something he’d abandoned centuries ago, seeing the flash of hope on Hisirdoux’s face and knowing how unfounded it was hardly felt pleasant.
Hisirdoux reached up, tiny fingers grasping his own, and pulled himself to his feet. Following along as Merlin stepped out of the cave, wincing as they stepped into the bright sunlight.
How many days has his parents sat back and allowed him to be locked away in the dark?
Merlin wasn’t overly fond of the sensation of the tiny, grubby fingers grasping his own, but it was the best way to keep Hisirdoux from running off. If their talk of burning earlier hadn’t convinced him, seeing Hisirdoux’s condition in the cave cinched it. 
The boy was not safe here.
And sure enough, as they approached the village, Hisirdoux brightened, and started to pull away “Mother! Father!”
Merlin kept his grip on Hisirdoux’s hand firm, not letting go as they stepped up to the gathered villagers, despite the boy’s attempts to pull away. Steeling his expression when he saw the mother and father Hisirdoux was looking at.
Hopefully Hisirdoux never had to learn that his mother wanted to burn him alive.
The tell-tale clatter of plate armor came up from beside him, and Merlin turned to see Galahad rapidly approaching. 
“How goes it finding the unregistered sorcerer, any luck?”
Merlin paused and greeted the knight with a nod, ignoring Hisirdoux’s attempts to break free and run to his parents “As a matter of fact I have, he right here,”
“Where? All I see is some waifish…..” Galahad trailed off, eyes going wide from behind his bushy brows.
Good to see Merlin wasn’t the only one appalled at how these villagers had treated their ‘sorcerer’. 
And speaking of a crowd was starting to form around them, drawn by Merlin’s appearance and Hisirdoux’s shouts. 
Merlin straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders.
Time to reset the wound as quickly as possible.
“False alarm everyone,” he gestured towards the squirming Hisirdoux with one hand while looking around at the gathered villagers “This boy does have magic, but he is of no threat to you, you can all go back to your ordinary lives,”
Hisirdoux strained as he continued to try and escape Merlin’s grip and run to his parents “Mother! Mother! I can come home now!”
The mother in question stepped up close and glowered down at him, expression hard enough that it caused Hisirdoux’s brightness to dim “That’s not my boy, not any longer, that child is tainted by darkness, he has no place in my house or in this village,”
No one else around them spoke up, either in agreement or objection, although based on the looks on their faces they hardly disagreed.
Hisirdoux froze, expression beginning to crumple “But moth--”
“Don’t you dare!” the woman shrieked, the sheer venom dripping from her voice enough to cause Hisirdoux, some of the villagers around her, and even Galahad to recoil “Don’t you dare address me as your mother! You’re a curse, a demon, you dare to call yourself our child, deceiving us and hiding your true nature so you can bring ruin to us all--”
“Beloved enough,” the man next to her put an arm around her waist and gently pulled her back “I know this is a trying time for you, but you must not lose yourself in such wrathful displays,”
He put both hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye “Our child may be tainted by Fae magics, but all is not lost, soon the evil will be gone. And there will be more children between us,”
She sighed, slumping in his grip “You are right, soon our village will be godly once more, and we will have more children to replace the one we lost,”
Hisirdoux had gone completely still, staring up at his parents with an utterly horrified, heartbroken expression. 
His father turned back towards Merlin “My wife speaks true, that’s no son of mine, either you take care of him or we’ll do it ourselves,”
An unfortunate but not unexpected response “Very well then,” he gave a gentle tug on the fingers still clasped in his “Hisirdoux?”
The boy looked up at him, eyes brimming. 
“My offer still stands, do you wish to become my apprentice?”
He gave a terse nod, tiny faced pinched in the effort to hold back tears.
“Then let us go and--”
“Hang on,” Hisirdoux’s father cut in “You can’t just carry my son off,”
Merlin raised an eyebrow “I thought you said he was no son of yours?”
The man flushed but held his ground “I sired him, raised him, and fed him. Can’t just let anyone go carrying him off with nothing to show for it,”
The sheer audacity of this man stopped Merlin in his tracks “How are you to demand such a thing when you’ve made it quite clear you’re not interested in taking him back?”
A triumphant glint entered the man’s eyes “You seem fairly interested in him, wouldn’t want to leave him and have something happen now would you?”
Merlin’s expression darkened, disgust he’d thought himself long past feeling slowly trickling into his chest. He’d seen poor reactions to people discovering their child was touched by magic many times before, this was far from the first time Merlin had witnessed parents proclaim their child dead while they stood living before their eyes. But never in all his centuries had he witnessed any cling so greedily to the corpse “You presume much if you think you can command me to--”
“It’s not as though you can just carry him off,” the the man said, unnervingly calm “The king wouldn’t be happy to hear of his Master Wizard carrying off children from their parents. So you can either pay my price or I’ll find someone who will,” 
Around him the other villagers, his wife included, were murmuring in agreement. Mentions of prices or even other options should Merlin prove unwilling to pay floating up in hushed bits of conversation.
Hisirdoux glanced back and forth between the two men. As young as he was he couldn’t possibly understand the intricacies of the situation surrounding him. But he clearly understood something, some base instinct informing him of the peril he was in, that he stood at the crossroads of danger and safety. His tiny fingers gripping Merlin’s hand with all the feeble strength he could muster. 
The disgust filling him deepened into a rage the likes of which he hadn’t felt in decades. Merlin had to make an effort not to shatter Hisirdoux’s fingers in his grip. From off to the side he could see Galahad watching the entire exchange with his jaw hanging open.
These people, who owned little more than the clothes on their backs, had been blessed with a child with immense magical potential, who possessed the power to potentially build their hamlet up to a kingdom in its own right, and this was how they treated him? They didn’t even afford him the dignity that they would a rat or a wolf, to them Hisirdoux was merely property. Blighted property that they had no desire to keep, but every right to sell to the highest bidder.
These fools had done what in a single afternoon what beings far greater than them had spent years trying and failing to accomplish.
They had made Merlin angry.
He let out a sigh and hung his head “Very well, name your price,”
The man grinned victoriously “Eighty pounds and not a pence less,”
“Fine,” Merlin said coldly.
The man blinked, clearly expecting some haggling involved.
“Galahad,” 
The knight jerked towards him, startled out of his stupefied state.
“Write up a contract stating that these two,” he inclined his head towards the couple in front of him “Are to receive eighty pounds in exchange for signing over their son to be a ward of the crown,”
Galahad nodded slowly, pulling open his bag of parchment and official seals “I’ll get right on that,” he glanced down at Hisirdoux, tears now openly rolling down his small face “How about you two go ahead and wait in the carriage, I won’t be but a minute,”
Merlin nodded, turning and tugging Hisirdoux after him as he headed away from the village and back towards the awaiting carriage.
He waited until Galahad and the crowd of villagers were far out of earshot before starting the chant. Hisirdoux could no doubt hear him, but he would neither remember the words or understand their significance.
Merlin preferred not to use blood magic, both due to the impracticality and the immense risk, but today he would make an exception.
Hisirdoux’s parents, with a complete lack of understanding of magic and how it functions, had declared their child tainted and cut him out of their hearts and community. Deciding to either sell him to offset their so-called loss or kill him and be done with it.
Well if that was the way they treated their firstborn child, Merlin would ensure that there would be no more children after Hisirdoux, for either of them.
From now until their dying days Hisirdoux’s parents would never again bear children, neither with each other nor any other partner.
The words felt cold and slimy falling from his lips, the magic they invoked soft and subtle. Slowly creeping into the bodies of Hisirdoux’s mother and father, altering them just enough to accomplish his goal.
Of course the blood magic curse would only affect those two, the rest of the village, the ones who had been complicit at best and gleeful participants at worst, would not share its effects.
But they would see Hisirdoux’s parents, see what the curse did to them without ever knowing the cause for certain. And they would wonder, and they would be afraid. 
He completed his curse just as the carriage and the rest of the knights came into view, falling silent as he stepped up to them, from far behind he could feel the last traces of magic settle into place and the curse take hold.
Merlin helped Hisirdoux climb the steps into the carriage, from behind him he heard Galahad come up and call to the rest of the knights.
“Alright we’re burning daylight, let’s get a move on!”
A quick glance to the west revealed just how right Galahad was, the sun was now far lower in the sky and they needed to hurry if they wanted to make it to safety before the darkness came and brought trolls with it. Moving swiftly, he stepped into the carriage and shut the door behind him, lifting Hisirdoux up onto the seat and sitting himself beside him just as the carriage pulled to a start.
Hisirdoux remained silent the whole while, had been ever since he’d heard what his parents truly thought of him, eyes locked on the small window, watching the village that had been his home slowly fade into the distance. 
“Hisirdoux,” Merlin spoke softly “I know you must be dealing with quite a lot right now, but you need to understand that there is nothing inherently wrong with your abilities. They are a tool like a sword or a hammer that can be used for good or for ill. They are not evil or corrupt they simply are,” 
The boy refused to look directly at him, eyes bright and lip trembling.
“How your village reacted to your abilities isn’t a reflection of your faults, but of theirs,”
Hisirdoux didn’t react aside from a sniffle, small shoulders starting to shake.
Years from now Hisirdoux would look back on this day as nothing more than a faded scar, a memory of a wound long since healed. But the future was far away, and today the wound was still fresh and raw. Merlin had said and done all he could for now; some wounds could only be healed with time. 
Settling back in his seat, Merlin turned to glance out his own window, prepared to spend the rest of the trip in silence.
Without warning something abruptly pressed into his side.
Startled, Merlin glanced sharply down, only to see Hisirdoux clinging to his torso, openly sobbing against him.
The sight was so baffling that Merlin didn’t know how to react. 
What on earth did this boy think he was doing? Merlin was a Master Wizard, not some nursemaid Hisirdoux could cling to whenever he wished. Merlin’s duty as his master was to instruct him in the ways of magic and that was it, he’d hire a nanny for everything else. If Hisirdoux was going to be his apprentice the boy needed to bloody well learn the difference between the two straight away.
He raised a hand to push Hisirdoux away, but paused just before it could touch him. Keeping it poised in the air for a few seconds, Hisirdoux’s weak sobs echoing in the small carriage, before dropping it with a sigh. Lowing his hand to softly pat Hisirdoux’s back instead.
Perhaps some indulgence was in order, the boy had just been cast out of his home and family. Granted it didn’t look like either of those had been worth very much, but still they were all that he had ever known.
This couldn’t be a regular occurrence, as soon as they got to Camelot Merlin would arrange for a proper nanny to handle caring for Hisirdoux. As master and apprentice, Merlin was responsible for Hisirdoux’s education and nothing else. But just for today, he would make an exception.
As their journey went on, the carriage rocking along as it carried them down the rugged road, Hisirdoux’s sobs gradually softened into sniffles, Merlin rubbing his back all the while, eventually he quieted altogether, though still remaining curled up against Merlin’s side.
“Hisirdoux?” Merlin said quietly.
No response.
He glanced down, glimpsing shut eyes and a slack face, a soft snore escaping him.
For a moment Merlin just stared incredulously. 
The child had fallen asleep on him, of all the impertinent-- good lord what if he started drooling on him?
Merlin briefly considered trying to move him, before settling back in resignation. If he tried to move the boy chances are he would wake up, and after being locked away for days with hardly any food or water and his wrists wrapped in iron...Hisirdoux needed a good rest.
And while Merlin wasn’t smitten with the idea of being drooled on, at least while he was sleeping Hisirdoux would be quiet and out of the way.
Tilting forward as much as he could without disturbing the sleeping child, Merlin peeked out his window, and again out the opposite one. Seeing no knights riding near enough to see inside, he swiftly snapped his fingers. A blanket on the opposite seat becoming sheathed in green light, leaping over and tucking itself securely around Hisirdoux’s sleeping form, the light around it vanishing just as quickly as it appeared
Satisfied that the deed had gone unwitnessed, Merlin leaned back and gave Hisirdoux one more soft pat on the back as the carriage continued on down the road.
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deathdippedinarc · 2 years
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SEND ❔AND ILL THROW SOME MUSES AT YOU
Status: Accepting
@hammurabicomplex said: i am once again hitting you with❔
— Pat/Vera: The dynamic we had for them many moons ago where they were girlfriends (the ✂️✂️🥰 kind) and helping each other get through their divorce was *chef’s kiss* and I loved it so very much, still do, BUTTTT I think having the two of them interact as teenagers somehow someway would be super interesting too. They can bond over teenage stuff and their similar trauma experiences, or potentially fight you know how teenagers are.
— Pat/Arturo: She’s been in kahoots with all the Mendozas so why not throw her at him! I do think their relationship would be really hostile because when Angel wanted to take Pat in he had to go through Arturo and Arturo was very adamant about not having her around, but Angel fought hard anyways ! He thinks of her as a burden and doesn’t trust her so things can get yikesy.
— Pat/Xavier: I really miss the Witness Protection verse we had with them, it was so interesting and I feel like a lot more can be done with it since they’ve both developed as OCs so much.
— Pilar/Cynthia: I can see Cynthia coming to Pilar and begging to help her take her lab back from the grasp of the cartels Leonel basically gave it away too and because they’re both intelligent women and Pilar is in a powerful position, they might just be able to do it! That is if Pilar decides to help.
— Pilar/Oscar: These two have only interacted once, but that thread alone and the patience she had with Oscar and him feeling comfortable enough to be witty tells me that they’ve most likely known each other for a couple of years. Probably a “I know your husband, he’s a good friend of mines, so I’m going to make sure you and your children are protected while he’s away!” Type thing.
— Pilar/The Mendozas: They’re destined to cross paths or probably already have crossed paths and been to a dinner or two with each other. Eliana thinks she’s neat, that’s all that matters truly.
— Roman/Chris: Yeah Roman has ridden in airplanes with drug lords who can kill him at any moment only a couple of feet away, but has he ever been in a plane with a narcissistic serial cheater? Chris can be the annoying “comedic” relief character in his life.
— Other pairings I see possible: Laura/Kiki, Laura/Juniper/Malachi, Lupe/Destiny, Lupe/Marcellus
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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years
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Eskel SFW Alphabet
Affection (how affectionate are they, how do they show affection)  He is very affectionate when you aren’t around other people. He puts his hand on your thigh or he laces your fingers together and brings your hand up to kiss your knuckles. He likes to leave kisses on your nose and cheeks and whisper to you how much he adores you. But when you are around other people, his signs of affection are less noticeable. He always has to be touching you though. 
Best Friend (what would they be like as a best friend, how would the friendship begin) Eskel is a supportive best friend but he’s definitely the mom of the group. He doesn’t let you do anything stupid (unless Lambert is involved and in that case, Eskel has little to no control over what you do). 
Cuddles (do they like to cuddle, how would they cuddle) Eskel loves nothing more than cuddling with you. He’ll hold you close so your body is practically molded against it, tuck his nose into your neck and listen to you giggle when his breath tickles you. Sometimes you’ll be sitting up in bed reading and he will clamber into the bed and lay himself between your legs. He’ll put his head on your thigh, one arm curling around your leg. Your hand will find his hair and you’ll start to read out loud to him. 
Domestic (do they want to settle down, how good are they at cooking and cleaning) Eskel always wanted to settle down but it was unrealistic. He couldn’t properly do his job if he stayed in one place for too long. But when he met you, he realized settling down and finding a home away from Kaer Morhen was possible. Yes, he came and went when he needed, but he always had you to fall back on whenever he needed. When you first met, he didn’t know how to cook but he was rather well versed in cleaning. He explained that keeping their bunk tidy at Kaer Morhen was something each young witcher was expected to do. He picked up rather quickly on how to cook and bake. He watched you carefully and listened to every instruction. Now when he’s home, you’ll wake up to the smell of cookies at some ungodly hour before the sun is up. He likes to bake when he can’t sleep. 
Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it) Eskel would be a nervous wreck. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, but he knows breaking up with you will hurt you a lot less than being with him in the long run. He could never give you the life you deserved, a family and a stable environment. He was always gone and you never knew when he’d return—if he’d return. He tells you he loves you and there’s nowhere else in the world that he’d rather be than by your side. But your well-being is more important to him than his happiness. He can’t stand to leave you so anxious and worried for months on end. He fits the tears in his eyes as you start to cry. He reminds himself constantly that this is best. This is what is needed. 
Fiance(e) (how do they feel about commitment, how quick are they to want to get married) Eskel isn’t fond of commitment but if he’s in a relationship, he knows it’s expected. He knows it isn’t ideal to have something (or someone) that could potentially tie him down. But you are the smile that takes his breath away when he fears the darkness clouding his mind. You are what drives him to be a better man, a better person. You give him reason, more so than just being a witcher. You bring him unadulterated happiness. But it takes him a while to convince himself he should marry you. He doesn’t think it’s necessary at first, but then he overhears you talking to one of your friends about how you’d like to be married someday. You were okay with things how they were with Eskel. As long as you had him, you didn’t need marriage. But he wanted to give you everything you ever wanted. 
Gentle (how gentle are they both physically and emotionally) Eskel is a gentle giant okay. He’s so soft and sweet and he’s afraid to hurt you so he makes sure that when he lays his hands on you, he’s careful. He treats you as if you’re made of glass. 
Hugs (do they like hugs, how often do they do it, what are their hugs like) Eskel loves hugs, but only from those close to him. His hugs are always suffocatingly tight but always so warm and comforting. He holds you so close each time, resting his chin on your head after giving you a kiss. He exhales softly then inhales, taking in your scent that is intoxicating. He hugs you every chance he gets. 
I Love You (how fast do they say it) Eskel is very timid to be the first to say something that carries such a heavy weight. He doesn’t want to feel like he expects too much out of you, but he also doesn’t want to be the only one feeling that way in a relationship. He doesn’t want to feel stupid letting feelings be known that are unreciprocated. It takes him a good while but when he does, you promise him you feel the same. 
Jealous (how jealous do they get, what do they do when they are jealous) Eskel doesn’t really get jealous. He trusts you and he knows that you love him, but his insecurities lie within himself. He doesn’t believe he deserves you, or that you should be with someone like him. He wholeheartedly believes you are too good for him. 
Kisses (what are their kisses like, where do they like to kiss, where do they like to be kissed) Eskel’s kisses are always gentle and tender but so full of passion. He loves to kiss your temple, to pull you close and hold you. His favorite place for you to kiss him is his neck. He loves how carefully you brush your lips down the column of his neck, ghosting over his pulse. It makes him shiver and his skin tingle. 
Little Ones (how are they around kids) He’s timid around kids. He’s fearful that somehow he’ll hurt them. He isn’t a small man. He’s rather tall and bulky with muscle. Not to mention he’s covered in scars. He’s actually had children cower away from him before so he’s very on guard around them. But he doesn’t mind them. 
Mornings (how are mornings spent with them) Mornings are quiet and content. He is always up before you. He keeps quiet and does his best not to move so he doesn’t wake you. However, he does watch you and that often wakes you up. He brushes his fingers through your hair and watches the way your brows crinkle together just slightly or the way your lips move in your sleep like you’re trying to speak. Eventually, your eyes flutter open and you rub them. He quietly wishes you a good morning and you smile at the sound of his voice, snuggling close to him to bury your face in his chest. 
Nights (how are nights spent with them) Nights are just as quiet as the mornings. After a long day of working out in the garden or finding little things to fix, he settles down with you. Oftentimes you lay on a blanket in front of the fire, reading a book. He’d come and lay alongside you. He brushes his fingers over your arm. He’ll ask you to read to him. Eventually, you’ll move into the bedroom to cozy up beneath the many blankets and furs you have on your bed. 
Open (when would they start revealing things about themselves, do they say everything at once or do they wait a while and reveal everything slowly) Eskel has walls of stone so thick that you fear you’ll never see the man he truly is. He’s on guard constantly and he’s very short with his answers. For a while, you think that maybe he just doesn’t want you to know about his life. But 
Patience (how easily angered are they) Eskel has all the patience in the world. It takes an awful lot to get him angry. He’s always calm and quiet and collected. 
Quizzes (how much do they remember about you, do they remember every little detail you mentioned in passing, or do they kind of forget)  He remembers everything. There isn’t a moment of your relationship that he doesn’t recall. He values you and the time you spend with him so much because he doesn’t feel that he deserves it to be honest.
Remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship) His favorite memory of your relationship is definitely the first time he told you he loved you. It wasn’t a good memory, but it solidified your relationship and proved to him that you truly loved him no matter his flaws. It was a chilly autumn night. Eskel had spent most of the night with his head in your lap while you read in front of the fireplace or sat on the bed and stitched holes in your clothes. He had fallen into a rather deep sleep, which was uncommon for the witcher. The next thing he knew, you were pinned beneath him on the bed, his hand around your throat. When he realized what had happened, that a night terror had caused him to put his hands on you, he immediately fell back on to the bed, tears springing to his eyes as an apology tumbled from his lips. You assured him that you were okay, that no harm had been done. He covered his face with his hands, sobbing as he told you how sorry he was, how he never wanted to hurt you. He was terrified you would kick him out, that you’d scream at him and tell him you never wanted to see him again. But you didn’t. Instead, you wrapped your arms around the witcher as best as you could, comforting him and whispering to him. You kissed his head and then his shoulder, reminding him that you loved him. He murmured them back, voice raspy and weak. He had never returned the sentiment before, and you never pressured him to do so. All in all, the memory was bad and he wished he could reverse time. But after you calmed him down, you stayed up with him, holding him, consoling him. You were there for him. 
Security (how protective are they, how would they protect you, how would they like to be protected) He is very protective of you but he makes sure he’s never overbearing. He watches from a distance when the two of you go to town to the market. He can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. 
Try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks) He puts all he has into dates-even if it’s just the two of you staying at home. He remembers every first in your relationship and he always makes sure you know that he appreciates you and loves you. He puts a lot of thought into his gifts, though he doesn’t get you many. You don’t like the idea of him spending what little coin he already has on you. Sometimes, however, the stubborn witcher finds something that catches his eye and makes him think of you.
Ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs) He has a very bad habit of feeling as though he doesn’t deserve anything good. He thinks he deserves only the bad and ugly that the world has to offer. You do your damnedest to prove otherwise but sometimes he's just so stubborn. 
Vanity (how concerned are they with their looks) Eskel isn’t necessarily concerned about his looks in the sense that everyone else is about their own. He’s very self-conscious and very shy when it comes to his scars. He keeps his hair longer than Lambert’s (but not as long as Geralt’s) to hide his scars as best as he can. You always reassure him that you love him and that the scars don’t make him the monster he thinks he is. They make him who he is and you love him. 
Whole (would they feel incomplete without you) Eskel feels like a piece of himself is missing when he’s away from you. He can survive without you, he doesn’t have to be around you twenty-four, seven. But having you around makes him feel like he’s got everything he needs in life. 
Xtra (random headcanon) You can tell when something bothers him. He’ll rub the scarred side of his face and his brows will draw together. He’s more silent than usual and distances himself from you. You can coax him into telling you what’s bothering him with soft kisses and holding his fingers. 
Yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, whether in a partner or in general) He doesn’t like loud noises or too quick of movement. From the trauma he’s endured and the lifestyle he lives, he can’t stand to be in loud environments. He doesn’t like when someone moves too fast, he stiffens up and watches them carefully, thinking that maybe they could be up to no good. 
ZZZ (what are their sleeping habits like) Eskel sleeps worse than a cranky newborn. He’s always the last one of you two to fall asleep and the very first to wake up. He gets a couple hours of decent sleep every night, but the rest of the night he stays up wide awake, staring at the ceiling or watching you. Sometimes you can coax him to sleep like a toddler. You brush your fingers through his hair and hum or read to him. It normally takes a couple hours, but he sleeps pretty well on those nights.
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fillingthescrapbook · 3 years
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Rewriting The CW's Kung Fu, Part 9: Reflections and Moving Forward
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And we have reached the end of our Kung Fu journey. If you haven't seen where we began, here's a handy guide to the previous posts:
Part 1: The Characters
Part 2: The Pilot
Part 3: The Mythology
Part 4: The Story Map
Part 5: Act I
Part 6: Act II
Part 7: Act III
Part 8: The Finale
Before I start with the lessons I learned and my other reflections, I want to thank @flailingbloo for all of her help and support in this endeavor. Without her to talk to and commiserate with, I would probably have gotten stuck in Act II forever and everything I've written would've been riddled with spelling errors and grammatical mistakes. So my eternal gratitude to flailingbloo. And now, we begin:
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Lessons.
Going into this writing exercise, I already knew it was going to be hard. Writing stories is time-consuming, it's nerve-wracking, and it takes a lot of research...and patience. Writing, especially for television, is also not a solitary task. I mean, sure, the writing itself needs to be done alone--but everything that comes before, during, and after the writing needs input from so many people.
Although I have a lot (and I mean A LOT) of complaints about how The CW's Kung Fu was handled and written, I do have a lot of respect for the work that the writers put into their scripts. And I do appreciate all that they have done to have a show like this produced.
Doing this rewrite, I learned that it's really important to make the main character likeable. Like, every episode I broke down, I had to ask myself: is Nicky likeable here? Is she someone who viewers would want to root for? Like, for me she is, but only people who read what I wrote can say for sure. My perspective is now a bit skewered because I have bias.
Second, story maps are very helpful. There were times, especially during Part 6 (where I wrote breakdowns for Episodes 6 to 9) where I kept getting road-blocked by where I want the story to go. So I went back to the story map over and over again, to remind myself--where does the story itself need to go? How do I help the characters get to the point where they're ready for what needs to happen? (This is also where flailingbloo helped the most for me. Like, she really reminded me why I was doing this rewrite in the first place. Because I care about Nicky and the show. I wouldn't have funneled so much of my time and effort into this if I didn't.)
Another thing I learned, or rather re-learned, is the art of letting go. I created the character of Stanley to recur throughout the series as a reminder of who Nicky was and who she is becoming. And then I finished writing the first act without even mentioning him. By the second act, I was ready to use him finally--but, after multiple false starts, I realized Stanley was one of the reasons why I was having a hard time pushing Nicky's story forward. Because I kept trying to go back to the past. So I decided in the writing of the second act to shelve Stanley completely, only to find him popping up in the second to last episode in a, at least I hope, more organic way.
The last thing I learned in this exercise was that, whenever a new character needs to come in, I have to look at my existing characters first to see if any one of them can fulfill the role I needed for the story. Like, creating new villains for Nicky was fun, sure--but, at the same time, I realized that there were already existing villains that could recur. Like the Triad, who played villains in two more episodes after the pilot; and Henry's martial arts class at the community center became the source of two existing storylines from the actual show.
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Reflections.
Do I think what my rewrite is better than the show? To me, yes. But, again, I am very biased. That said, I am proud of how I utilized the characters that the show created and didn't really give much importance to. Dennis, when he was introduced, felt like a rich character that could provide a very different point-of-view from the Shen siblings--but he was mostly relegated to being eye-candy. And I thought I gave him more meat by making him more involved in Althea's sexual harassment storyline, while also involving him in Nicky's stories.
That said, I also realize that I wasn't able to play up Nicky and Evan's past relationship as I was writing the episodic breakdowns. I was able to give them a lot of opportunities to explore their chemistry together, as I did with Nicky and Henry, but I kind of dropped the ball as a writer on guiding those planted moments into something more significant. Granted, I only wrote breakdowns and not actual scripts. Maybe I could've explored the romance angle more with a little sprinkle of direction and dialogue.
As I went deeper into the rewrite, I do see how easy it is to fall in love with characters as you write them. It's very easy to trap yourself into wanting villains to be more well-rounded. I keep having to remind myself that I don't have to redeem everyone. Just Nicky. Which became harder and harder as I went further and further into the story.
Another thing that became difficult as I went on? Keeping the mythology from just bursting open. That's how Henry, as I wrote him, evolved into becoming the son of a guardian--just so there's a reason for him to be so invested in Nicky's quest, while also having someone who can explain things to our main character. I'm actually really proud of that evolution.
All that said, I also have to recognize that I rewrote the show with the benefit of hindsight and the lack of budget constraints. In the real show, there's a group of writers who each have their own ideas of what the show should be. (This is where a head writer--not a show runner--would come in handy, so they could reel in the story to what needs to be told.) With more writers comes more chances for inconsistencies to happen. (And this is where a script supervisor, or a writing assistant, could come in handy.) And then there's production notes and budget. Not to mention, you know, the whole pandemic that's still happening. I didn't have to think about those things while doing this rewrite.
So, again, I want to give the writers kudos to actually producing scripts. I hope they haven't lost their minds--or their will to write--just because there are people like me who nitpick at everything. That's what people who love things do. We nitpick because we care.
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Moving forward.
I do plan to stick with the real show for Season 2. I hope it's planned better. I hope they get researchers (plural!) and a writing assistant to help in the writing room. I hope the writers would sit down with the cast to discuss and develop the characters more. And I really hope they hire a better fight choreographer and fight director for the second season. (Like, rehire the people who choreographed and filmed the flashback scene in... Episode 11? The one with Nicky's maternal grandmother and Pei-Ling's own mother?)
I hope that the Nicky-Henry relationship gets explored realistically, and if a potential new love interest is ordered, they get introduced in a way that isn't antagonistic. Make them more well-rounded characters too, please. Make us want to root for their success. And while I think Nicky doesn't have an iota of chemistry with Evan, I do like Evan himself as a character. So I hope they get him more involved in future storylines--as an outsider looking in, sure, but also as an honorary member of the Shen family.
With regards to the Shen family, I do hope that we get to explore their relationships and dreams more before the show drops the reveal about Mei-Xue's daughter. I want Althea to have a cohesive storyline that doesn't pause for no reason. I want Ryan to explore being Asian AND gay as a first-generation Asian-American. And give the Shen siblings some recurring friends. They don't have to be semi-regulars (unless there's a story that can be explored) but let's not keep the Shens in a bubble. It was weird in the first season. Especially for Althea whose friends only showed up for her bachelorette party and never again. Not even when she was panicking about wedding preparations, which, considering how rich Dennis's parents were? They wouldn't let Althea be in charge of anything. They would hire a Chinese wedding coordinator. And an expensive and hard-to-book one at that. They donated an entire hospital wing, for crying out loud.
I want Jin to have an actual character, and not just be the supportive dad who loves his kids very much (admittedly my own rewrite also made this same mistake). And I want Mei-Li to be consistent as a character. Like, no more surprise twists about being the descendant of a legendary warrior without proper foreshadowing and plot-planting please.
Dennis shouldn't just be eye-candy. The same applies to Kerwin. Sure, I get that shirtless men are a must in a CW series, but please give their characters some meat too. Dennis's nerd-side was never showcased in the show, and Kerwin had that poor little rich boy background that didn't get explored either. Because the show was too busy keeping him and Zhi-Lan tearing each others' clothes off--when they're not tearing other people down.
Also, don't drop the ball on the tease that Bian-Ge is now everywhere. If I understood correctly, Bian-Ge is Kung Fu's version of Qi. If yes, then I hope they treat it respectfully as a force of nature--and not just the source of magic. The flowers from Bian-Ge itself can be magical, sure, I have no problem with a fictional flower being a McGuffin.
Finally, I hope the show also explores other Asian communities and cultures. Like, Kung Fu is great--but imagine if Nicky had to face someone who is versed in Silat Melayu? Or someone who uses Arnis? Someone who practices Kalaripayattu or Lathi Khela? Or Kuntao? Imagine Nicky having to use Wing Chun against someone who uses Karate or Krav-Maga? Asia is a big continent and there are so many different types of martial arts found from the Middle East to Southeast Asia. Kung-Fu is an umbrella term, so it'll be great to see the different styles found under it.
... This went long again. Sorry about that. Funny thing is, when I started this whole rewriting plan? I thought it would take three posts, tops. And look at us now. Nine posts deep, and it seems I still haven't run out of things to say. So I'm cutting myself off before I completely wear out my welcome.
But if you've read all my Kung Fu posts, please do reach out. Let's discuss the show and what it can do to produce a better second season.
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ink-and-flame · 4 years
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Kinktober Day 1: Intensity Challenged
Kinktober Day 1 Prompts: Sexual deprivation (long term) ~ Orgasm control ~ Competitions (with other Subs) Fandom: Original Tags: Exophilia, Sexual deprivation, Orgasm control, sub competition, angst, hurt/comfort, F/F themes, dom/sub themes, bondage Pairing(s): Orc(m)/Human(f), Darnok/Lia, Human(f)/Human(f)
[Authors Note: Welcome back to another Kinktober. I hope to do better this year than last because I have a lot of stories mapped out, especially for these two. Originally I had not planned for the competition to go this way and was not intending a mixed scene with both m/f and f/f elements. Hopefully it doesn’t come across as too muddled and unfocused.]
Lia was going to get to see Darnok again soon and they had the opportunity to enjoy the V.I.P. access. Slipping the card into her wallet Lia sent a message to Darnok, checking to see if he received his own invite. She was worried that he hadn’t and worded the question in a way that made it seem like she had not received one. Lia was relieved when he had also received the invite and informed him of her own. Their plans were changed to be more casual since it would be best to explore the lounge and what their new access had to offer as opposed to doing a complex scene. 
The night arrived and Lia was both excited and a little worried. She wasn’t sure what would happen and decided not to bring anything extra with her. She dressed a bit nicer than she usually would when going to the club, not wanting to upset Darnok by picking out something inappropriate. The drive felt like it took longer, though rationally Lia knew that it took the same amount of time it always did. 
She walked up to the club and showed her new ID card to the bouncer who waived her through with a smile. She headed to the main area of the club to wait for Darnok, not wanting to enter the V.I.P. area without him. Sipping on a drink her eyes lit up when he arrived, holding out an arm to her and escorting her to the Lounge. The V.I.P. area was named Destiny’s Lounge, but most just called it the lounge as that was simpler.
“I hope you aren’t too disappointed about not doing a scene tonight. I know we haven’t really had a chance to have a good one in a while and I wanted to make sure that was ok with you.”
“It’s fine Darnok. I think this is a better plan. See what is offered, and that might help us plan our next scene. I can be patient, can you?”
Darnok laughed and headed to the lounge with Lia holding onto his arm. They were allowed in after showing their cards and walked into the small foyer that granted access to the full V.I.P. area. The lounge had a sign over the door, a soft glow coming from within. Quiet music could be heard as well. There was a bar off to the side, separate from the lounge with plenty of seating for an intimate crowd. There were other areas to explore, but that could come later. The lounge itself seemed like the best place to start. 
They had not been there long when they were approached by someone Lia did not recognize, though he seemed to know Danrnok as the two shook hands. The man was unusual looking. Sharp features, horns curling up from his head, eyes that seemed to glow. Lia noticed his hand had dark claws, she wasn’t sure if he looked demonic or draconic as his skin had a somewhat dusty grey hue.
“Well, are you going to introduce me, or are you going to be rude?” The tall horned man was looking at Lia.
“Right, of course, how dare I be rude. Lucien, this is my sub Lia.” Darnok glanced down at Lia to check on her. 
“Well, Lia, as Darnok said, I am Lucien and I am quite pleased to meet you.” Leaning down he grasped her free hand, kissing it softly. His eyes shifted color as he winked at her. “I hope my appearance doesn’t frighten you too much.” He stood up straight releasing her hand. 
“No Sir, I am not afraid.” Lia knew she had to be extra polite. She didn’t want to embarrass or upset Darnok.
“Oh I like her, my friend, do let me know if you plan to ever share.” He gave Darnok a look and then addressed them both. “Well I must be going. I have some things to tend to and the grape vine is singing. Morwenna is looking for you both.” With a slight bow Lucien left.
Darnok looked down at Lia. “Lucien is an old friend of mine. He has been trying to get me V.I.P. access for over a year now. His sway isn’t as strong as Morwenna’s and my schedule prevented me from being able to attend some key events. I am glad that the owners were willing to overlook the past when considering me.” Darnok led Lia over to a couch with a table she could set her drink on. 
There were no worries about drugged drinks as the lounge was heavily surveilled and had security on premises. Everyone knew the punishment for such behavior and it was unpleasant and possibly illegal if Lia thought too hard about it. She relaxed into the couch, leaning into Darnok and observing the people. There was a good mix of races, just like with the rest of the club. She saw other orcs, some elves, a couple of goblins, and plenty of humans. Though some of them might not be human at all. 
The comfortable silence did not last long as Morwenna came into view. She seated herself next to Darnok with a smile and waved over a server ordering herself a drink. She looked Lia over with a smile before turning to Darnok.
“I am glad to see that you were finally able to get access to the lounge. It will be so much more fun with all the new blood coming in. The gala saw more invites than usual as there were exceptional performances and behaviors by both dom and sub alike. The owners are not usually so generous, but I am glad for it. We always need new and interesting people.”
Darnok nodded. “I am just glad they are still picky and stuck to their original model. Not letting people buy their way in or otherwise force their way in. It keeps the undesirables out. Having to earn it, means you will respect the privilege more, at least it should anyway.”
“Yes, well, not everyone does and sometimes after they get comfortable they get cocky and I have seen a good number of access privileges revoked over the last year. Not sure why, maybe something in the water? Either way, now that you are here why don’t we discuss that wager I mentioned” When her drink arrived Morwenna took a delicate sip and continued. “I am eager to play with new blood. So how about a two part competition?”
Darnok raised a brow. “A competition? Of what sort?”
“Your sub verses one of mine. A test of endurance, patience, and control.” Morwenna was smiling behind her glass.
“I’m listening.”
“Good. Part one is sexual deprivation. The subs must go without sex and release for as long as possible. That includes masturbation, but no one will be disqualified for any nocturnal releases. During this time the sub must perform sexual acts for their dominant. We shouldn’t have to suffer, this isn’t testing our abilities but theirs.” 
Darnok looked thoughtful. He had a better chance to win since he wasn’t able to see Lia regularly, something Morwenna wasn’t aware of. It did prevent him from keeping an eye on her, but he trusted Lia. “Ok, that seems fair, what is the second part?”
“Ah, the second part is more fun. Orgasm control. After the deprivation, someone one will of course either lose part one or we call it a draw after hmm, three months? Is that too long, yes probably, 37 days, how is that. A little more than a month. So after 37 days if no one breaks, we move to part two. This will require them to control their orgasms. That part of the competition we will need a room for. We will tease and pleasure our subs and it is their responsibility to hold off as long as possible. Whomever’s sub orgasms first, loses.”
Glancing at Lia Darnok looked back at Morwenna. “I could be on board with this. What does the winner get?”
“Aren’t gloating rights enough?” Morwenna laughed lightly. “I jest. We both have the funds for a substantial prize. Loser buys the winner and their sub an all expense paid trip to an island getaway. It would be just in time for the worst parts of the season and I do like warmth.”
“You speak as though you are going to win.” Darnok did some mental calculations and knew he could easily afford it. Though it would be nice and he could frame it as a business trip when he won. 
“Oh Darnok, you know I always get what I want. I rarely, if ever, lose. Still, you do have some advantages. I know you, but not your sub. So I am going in a bit blind. I am still willing to take the chance. So, do we have a wager?” Morwenna held out her hand to Darnok.
Shaking her hand Darnok smiled. “You might want to go ahead and book those tickets now. Save yourself a little money.” 
“Oh I do so love it when you are cocky.” Standing up, drink in hand, Morwenna smiled at them both. “The competition starts tomorrow. I suggest you enjoy your evening while you can, I know I plan to.” 
Lia watched the woman walk away and felt a lump in her throat. They had not planned to have sex and now she was going to have to wait over a month to do a scene with him? Or was it more she would have to wait to be allowed to enjoy it? Looking at Darnok curiously, she decided it was best to let him lead on this. Maybe he knew something she didn’t.
“I know I should have asked you before agreeing, but this is a perfect opportunity for us. Not only would it give you a chance to prove yourself as a sub, but a nice trip to an island, a resort, maybe a private bungalow. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a dream to me.” Darnok stroked Lia’s cheek. “I know we can do this, our schedules will make this an easier competition for us, at least, the first part.”
 Those words hit deep, prove herself, that was something she wanted. She needed to prove to Darnok that she was perfect for him. If they won, a weekend together away from everything could change their entire relationship. It could potentially give Lia what she wanted, or at least put them on that path. There was the possibility of it going wrong, but she had to have faith that it wouldn’t.
“Ok, I am on board with this. I mean I am the sub so I know I don’t get a choice, but I also know you would give me an out if I really didn’t want to do it. How do we make this work though?”
“That will be the easy part. We already are not scheduled to see each other too much over the next month or so. For the scenes we do, I can help you work on your control. I suggest you also practice edging yourself just be careful. Sometimes you can trigger an orgasm without meaning to, and your body has always been quite responsive to my touch. This will take some practice on both our parts. I have to find ways to cool you down while I work you over, to help you keep from hitting that edge.” Darnok slipped an arm around Lia. “I have a hotel room, I wasn’t sure what tonight was going to be like. I suggest we leave now and make full use of it.”
She couldn’t help but laugh a bit and finished her drink. “Well, I can’t say no to that. No practicing, just driving each other crazy tonight ok?”
“That sounds like the most excellent of plans dearest Lia.”
Darnok’s stamina was put to the test as he and Lia chose to make the most of the evening, and into the early hours. Neither wanted to sleep, for different reasons, but the goal was the same. Close to check out time Lia was laying in the bed sore and completely exhausted. Though if she was honest she had been exhausted for hours. Maybe there was a thing as too much sex, but she refused to beleive it and just chalked it up to her body not being used to this sort of thing. 
“Well, I am pretty sure that will help keep me from wanting to have sex again for a while, and I am too sore to masturbate.” Lia admitted as Darnok walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom fully dressed. 
He was chuckling as he sat down and put on his shoes. “The shower is yours if you’d like, and I agree. I probably wont need sex again for a while, but I will contact you with instructions after a couple of days.”
Lia showered, dressed, and walked out with Darnok. She hugged him before getting into her car and heading home. There was a nap in her future, her very near future and she had to figure out just how she was going to deal with the next 37 days. Lia got the impression that this was going to be much harder for her than Darnok, but that was the point. She was the one trying to prove herself, not him.
The first week was easy, Lia had no desire to masturbate at all, and the idea of sex didn’t appeal to her. It took about that long for her to no longer be sore. Perhaps Darnok had been a little over zealous, but then that may have been the plan. If she was too sore and exhausted to orgasm, then they had this competition in the bag. Of course that didn’t last, but one week down was a pretty good start.
Even after the first week Lia was doing ok, she had gone longer without masturbating before, but now that she knew she couldn’t, the temptation was a lot stronger. It was during the second week that Darnok began instructing her on how she should edge herself. How to bring herself pleasure without release. He wanted to teach her to control her pleasure, to not get lost in it the way she sometimes did. He wasn’t worried about the first part of the competition, it was the second part he feared losing, and he expressed that concern to her more than once. 
Their first scene since the wager began was nothing like what Lia had experienced before. It was pure torture. Darnok drove her almost to the edge over, and over. Teasing different parts of her body. Showing her how to take pleasure, let it build, and then let it fade. He practiced a few techniques on her to try and calm her down while still bringing pleasure. There were a number of close calls that had him backing off and letting her cool down completely before he felt safe touching her again. 
He could see the frustration in her eyes, her desire for release, and knew to stop pushing. Instead he pleasured himself in front of her. Something he had never done, at least not all the way to completion. Seeing her covered in his seed only made him want her more. A temptation he struggled to resist. It would be too easy to fall victim to his own lust, and if he was inside of her, he would not stop, and he wasn’t sure Lia could resist at that point. As it stood he felt a little bad finding his own release when she could not. 
Carefully Darnok cleaned his sub, he praised her and comforted her. The aftercare was most important, not only to help her calm down, but to reinforce their bond. This was the only way to keep the experience from feeling unbalanced. Darnok had to let himself care for her, cherish her, treat her with love and reverence. Something he had been avoiding since things had become complicated in his life. 
The third week brought with it some relief. Lia’s hormones shifted and she simply had no desire to seek pleasure. She was still warm from the last session with Darnok. While the experience had brought her to tears, the aftercare had filled her heart even more than it had been before. He had never treated her so lovingly and if this was what it took to feel that, then she would gladly forego the pleasure of her body to have this with him. 
Once her hormones had cycled back up, resisting became much harder, especially since she had been practicing edging again. She was focusing on different forms of stimulation, the ones she knew would get her there quicker. She had to practice resisting that pleasure for as long as she could. Many days Lia found herself breaking out a toy multiple times, only to not let herself reach satisfaction. It was getting to the point where she did not want to keep going and just wanted release. 
Thankfully Darnok was there to soothe her frayed nerves with his deep calming voice. Their phone calls became more frequent as Lia needed the extra support to get through this and they needed to discuss their next session. This one would be harder than the last. Lia would have to resist even more because Darnok anticipated that simple teasing would not be enough and that Morwenna would expect him to penetrate her during the second part of the competition. This session was to help both of them resist becoming lost in the moment. 
When the session began, Lia was nervous, more so than the last time because she could see that Darnok was nervous as well. The time was almost up and Morwenna had not indicated that her sub had lost, that meant tonight could break them both if they got too caught up in everything. Something that was a very real possibility for them both. 
Darnok started slow, easing them both into the session. He treated it as a rehearsal for the real thing. Starting with simple touches, using his hands and mouth to push Lia to the edge of pleasure over and over, only backing off when he could sense her body tensing. When it was time for penetration Darnok talked Lia through it, explaining how he would move to keep from overwhelming them both. He held his body in a way that the pressure would not be on her clit, anything to give them an advantage. 
At first it was easy, he could go slow, roll his hips, they both enjoyed it but it wasn’t enough stimulation to get them to release any time soon. Gradually he sped up, his control slipping until his tusks were scratching her shoulder and he could feel himself on the edge. Pulling out quickly Darnok came on Lia, covering her slick folds, stomach, and breasts with his seed. He looked at her worried that she had reached completion as well as her body was shaking. 
“I… I am so close….” Her voice was small. “Darnok please…” 
The begging almost broke him, but he was so proud of her. He lost control, but she didn’t. His smile lit up his face as he shook his head. “Oh Lia, you have never made me prouder, please do not give in. We have come so far, you have done so well my dearest.”
Sucking in a breath Lia nodded. She focused her breathing and relaxed the tension in her body. The needy, pulsing, ache that filled her slowly faded in intensity. She was still filled with need, but she could handle it now. She wasn’t in danger of going over the edge unexpectedly. Darnok let her rest for a good while as he carefully cleaned her, not wanting to stimulate her too much and send her over the edge accidentally.
It was much harder to calm down this time and Darnok did his best to care for Lia, to bring her back to a more neutral place. He worried about overworking her body, taxing her mind, nothing was worth bringing her actual harm. He whispered words of praise and encouragement until he felt her relax in his arms. This session was shorter, he could not risk pushing for more, he did not trust himself to not give into her pleas. 
Lia’s frustration was turning to anger and she was glad the time was almost up for the first part of the wager. It was beginning to affect her day to day life. She was snapish, terse, and short with people more frequently now. Explaining it off as bad days was becoming harder and she had to be careful that she wasn’t risking her job. 
As the 37th day arrived and passed Lia was curious when she did not hear from Darnok. She had managed to survive the first part of this challenging wager, it was the second part she feared. Being this keyed up for so long meant that she could lose control more easily. Lia was ready to be done if she was honest and wanted nothing more than to go back to exploring this aspect of her life with Darnok, without all the restrictions. Maybe they could revisit this again, but on their own terms. 37 days did not sound like a lot until she had to experience it, and it was just too long. 
When Darnok finally called Lia was relieved. It seemed to have been a draw. Something that didn’t really come as a surprise. While Lia did not know Morwenna or her sub, she knew how to recognize a competitive streak when she saw one and the domme was competitive. Darnok scheduled their next play session for the weekend. They would be utilizing one of the larger rooms as all four of them would have a play session together. Lia wondered how much cross over there would be, or if they were just sharing space. 
The night finally came and Lia dressed comfortably. She packed a spare set of clothes and some other essentials. She was going to be spending the night at the hotel with Darnok afterwards. Lia had the feeling she was barely going to be able to move and that the after care would take the rest of the night. 
Heading into the club she saw Darnok waiting for her close to the entrance. He guided Lia towards the back rooms as they were the only ones open and big enough for all four of them to have enough space to enjoy themselves. Morwenna was already there when Lia and Darnok arrived. Her sub was naked, blindfolded, and bound to one of the small beds. 
“I wanted to save a little time and get my sub prepared. She has been, a little difficult to handle these last few days. I am sure we could have timed this better, but I did not let her cum, even after the 37 days were up. I wanted her prepared for this and eager.”
“Lia has been a dutiful sub and has not orgasmed either. Even though I never said she couldn’t, she chose to continue the deprivation of her own volition. I could not be more proud of her, or more eager for this wager to be complete. I miss scening fully with my sub and while this has been excellent practice and has given me some interesting insight, my pleasure comes from the pleasure of my partners. This was no easy task for either of us.”
“Shall we begin?” Morwenna asked her hand sliding slowly along her subs body, teasing the bound woman's nipple gently.
“Give us just a moment to get ready.” Darnok helped Lia onto the other bed, stripping her of her clothing. He would not use bonds to hold her, he needed to be able to read every movement of her body. Stripping down to his pants, he nodded. “We may begin.”
Darnok’s focus was on Lia, he could not allow what was happening next to them to become a distraction. He started slow, his hands roaming over Lia’s body, massaging her muscles, her breasts, hips, and thighs. He carefully avoided her hot spots, wanting to warm her up slowly, get her used to his touch, let her sink slowly into the sensations. When she was relaxed enough he began to tease her, attaching the little bell nipple clamps to her now pert nipples. Smiling as they made light sounds with her subtle movements. “So beautiful my little Lia.”
Lia was torn between focusing on Darnok and being distracted by the scene happening next to them. Morwenna had a similar approach, starting slow, but she was teasing her sub more with her mouth than her hands. Lia became curious about how different it might feel, having a soft feminine touch as opposed to Darnok’s firm and more masculine one. She loved the way Dar made her feel, but that didn’t mean she could not be curious about the touch of others. 
When his lips kissed over her inner thigh Lia refocused on Dar. This was a competition and she needed to remain relaxed and concentrate on controlling her pleasure. Even though the sound of the other sub’s moans tickled at her ears, Lia had to stay focused on her own pleasure. Making sure it didn’t overwhelm her or catch her by surprise. When his thick tongue pushed into her, she arched with a cry. It felt incredible, not enough to bring her to release, but enough to make her want more. He hands went to his head holding him in place. She knew that this would push her to the edge faster, but she had been practicing with tug signals.
Lia hoped that Darnok remembered and would ease up when she felt herself spiraling. His finger pushing into her was almost too much and she tugged his hair a bit sharply, it was a little too soon for penetration and she needed to calm down. Especially since it seemed the other sub could handle quite a bit. Morwenna was copying Dar, her face between the other woman’s thighs. If the sound was anything to go on, the efforts were quite enthusiastic indeed. Hearing the other sub moaning, seeing her arch and writhe, the way Morwenna delicately sucked and lapped at what little Lia could see. It only aroused her more. Now she understood why the sub was blindfolded. Yes, it increased her senses, but it prevented her from being aroused by the sight of what was happening in the room. 
Gasping Lia arched harder against Darnok, tugging tightly at his hair. She had almost lost focus and cum right then, it wasn’t going to happen so fast. She did not get this far for it to happen this fast. Panting and whimpering she tried to calm herself down but it wasn’t working. Thankfully Darnok stopped and stood up looking down at her. She could see the bulge in his pants, the dampness on his slacks, he was intensely aroused. 
“Oh Lia, I have missed your taste, your body, taking you the way I want to. I must have you.” He stripped the rest of his clothing, climbing onto the bed with her. He wanted it to seem like he had less control than what he actually felt, but the truth was, his control was already being tested. The cries of both women were getting to him and he knew that the sights were arousing Lia. 
Hovering over her, he slid himself against her, not penetrating, taking his time, letting her cool down some, but still teasing her. “I cannot wait to be inside you, to feel you hot and tight around me.” His voice was a deep gravelly growl.
Lia noticed the other subs cries getting louder when he spoke. Perhaps the blindfold helped with the sights, but not the sounds, so maybe she wasn’t at as much of a disadvantage as she thought. Then again, Darnok’s voice affected her too, so it wasn’t without issue. If he spoke more she might lose control, his voice always did something to her she couldn’t quite explain.
Turning her head she saw Morwenna pulling on a complicated harness. It looked like she was using a strap on, but there were modifications that allowed her to be stimulated, at least it looked like there was a part that went inside once it was buckled on. This excited Lia, having never really seen this kind of thing up close. Her eyes were locked on the Domme, and how she moved over her sub. Untying the bonds holding her down and giving her more freedom of movement. Lia was entranced by the sight of their intimacy. The way their bodies moved together, their breasts pressing into each others. It was beautiful.
“Please, Dar, I need you inside me.” She whispered, knowing that he would hear her, but that it would be hard for anyone else too. As an orc his hearing was far better than a humans and it allowed her to speak to him in low tones when she didn’t want to be overheard. All she received in response was a low, deep growl, and the sensation of his thick cock pushing into her. She hiked her legs over his hips, pulling him into her faster. Her control was slipping and they were at risk of losing. 
Maybe making it this far was enough. Lia wanted this, she wanted to cum, and she could not look away from the women next to them. Her face was forcibly turned by Darnok, who gave her an amused look and leaned in nipping her neck. Lia knew he was trying to keep her present, keep her from slipping and going over the edge too quickly. The nip helped ground her a bit, but also riled her. The feeling of him thick and hot inside of her was almost too much to take and she couldn’t resist another look at the couple next to them. 
Morwenna was clearly skilled if the noises her sub was making was anything to go on. The way her hips moved enticed Lia and she found herself spiralling towards that edge faster and faster. Lia simply could not look away, finding the women beautiful in ways she hadn't really thought of too much before. She had always had an open mind, but this was something different entirely. 
Turning to Darnok, it was his eyes that captured Lia. He had been watching her, watching them, but also glancing at them and it was taking its toll. She could see his control slipping, that slightly feral glazed look in his eye that he got when things were about to get rough and more of his orcish nature would come out. His hips moved faster as he thrust deeper and harder into Lia, filling her body in ways no other man ever had, or ever could. Her pleasure spiralled higher and higher, her body tense, the wager forgotten. She no longer cared. She needed release, craved it, and would no longer be denied. 
A sharp cry filled the air as pleasure had culminated in a powerful release of sheer orgasmic bliss, the other sub had broken first. Lia’s cries quickly followed not seconds after as her own orgasm overtook her. The pleasure she felt was so intense it bordered on pain, it almost wasn’t enjoyable it was so intense. Never before had her body reacted this way, the most powerful orgasm she had ever had, a gush of cum squirting out of her and soaking herself, Darnok, and the bed beneath them. Lia was shaking, tense, her body bowed as she rode out the blinding pleasure that tore through her. 
It took several moments for her to begin to relax, a foot had cramped because her toes curled so hard. Lia was not sure she ever wanted to hold off from orgasming that long again. The experience was simply too intense for her. She was panting, her vision blurry with little dots floating around when she blinked. It was a while before she came back to herself, seeing the worried look on Darnoks face. He had been speaking, she had not responded, she had not even realized he was talking.
“Lia, are you ok?” His tone was worried as she had not responded.
“Do I need to call the medic.” Morwenna’s voice sounded far away. 
“I am not sure. Lia, Lia sweetie you need to respond.”
“ok” Lia croaked.
Darnok breathed a sigh of relief as he slowly pulled out, a gush of fluid following the action. Slowly he stroked his hands over her body. “Tell me what you need.”
“Foot cramp” Lia whimpered as she began to come back to herself. 
She smiled weakly as Darnok moved off of her and started massaging her foot and calf, switching to the other leg once she had relaxed. He was talking quietly with Morwenna, both of them clearly worried about her. She raised a hand and waved it at them a bit.
“M’fine.. Think i saw god… or the devil, not sure”
Morwenna laughed heartily. It was the most warm sound Lia had ever heard the woman make. It was so genuine and somewhat contagious. Lia turned and looked at her. Disheveled, soaked in sweat, her hair a mess, clearly she had reached completion with her sub. For the first time, she actually looked human to Lia, and that only  made her more curious about the intense and aloof woman. 
“I like her, I really do Darnok. Are you sure you wont share?” Morwenna was tending her own sub now that it was clear Lia did not need medical intervention. She had removed the girls blindfold and was holding a water bottle for the sub to sip from. “Slowly dear. I will get you a blanket in a moment, you need fluids first.”
The aftercare was soft, gently, the subs being pampered by their doms with the utmost care. Both couples ended up on the couch. Lia wrapped in a blanket curled on Darnoks lap, and Morwanna’s sub was burritoed and draped across her Domme’s lap, hair being stroked softly.
“You won, but barely. I suppose a deal is a deal. Let me know the dates and I will get the tickets as agreed. I do hope we can do this again sometime. Well, maybe not this exactly, but it would be nice to play again. Maybe with a little more interaction?”
“We will see, I would enjoy that, but I have a few scenes planned out that I would like to get through first. I will need to check my calendars and get back to you on the rest. I am honestly surprised we won. I could feel Lia losing control beneath me and I hit a point where I no longer cared about winning.”
“I think we both hit that point. I got caught up in the moment just as much as you did. We all did, and I think that is what made this so much fun.”
Lia did not remember falling asleep or how she managed to get to the hotel. She woke up in Darnok’s arms, resting against his chest. He was deep asleep and she just watched him for a while. Wondering what tomorrow would bring. 
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