#v. for me to decide (time lord victorious)

[pandorxxx]

Wrong kind of training…

Neteyam (30) x Omatikayan fem reader (23)

Warnings: SMUT THE HOUSE, age-gap, breeding kink, impregnating, daddy kink, oral, p in v, squirting.

🔞Minors, do not interact🔞

Neteyam was finally crowned olo’eyktan, after Jake decided that it was his time to step down. He was the perfect man for the job, anyway. He was a great warrior that loved his people. He was a helping hand to the elders, and led the clans to victory. He was a great son; always respecting his fathers wishes even if he didn't have to anymore. A great brother; always looking after his siblings. In the end, however, he wished that he could be a great husband, and father.

Although Neteyam was sought after by almost every woman in the clan, he always claimed to be too busy for a mate, even though he longed for one. That all changed when he met you. You were a little younger, granted, but mature for your age. He liked that you could hold your own, yet you were very submissive. He liked that you had a mind of your own, and the way you spoke. He liked that you were nurturing, similar to a mother figure. He secretly thought about courting you, and what it would be like to have you by his side. He figured that you wouldn't want to mate with him, considering the age gap. Why would you want to mate with him when there were many fine young men your age? What would you two have in common? However, he was completely wrong…

“Would you just look at him, he's soooo dreamy!” Tirea sighed, gawking over Neteyam from a distance as he trained the new warriors. You shot her a confused look before going back to making Tuk’s bracelet that you promised her.

“He’s way too old for us, Tirea. Besides, he probably has women falling at his feet.” you explained, turning your head towards the huge man. You couldn't deny that he was definitely a catch. He had muscles for days, and a gorgeous face but it was more than that for you. You like that he was very kind, and humble. You liked that he was a helping hand, and a true leader. You liked that he was soft and gentle, but serious when it came to his people, almost like a father figure.

“Yeah, ok!” Tirea said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

‘You might actually have a chance y/n… the way he stares at you??? Lord have mercy!” you eyes widened as you turned to look at Tirea.

“W-what are you talking about?” you spoke nervously. You never paid attention to the way he looked at you. Why would you? What would he see in you? You were too young for him.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. Look behind you…” Tirea nudged your thigh causing you to turn around, and there he was. Staring at you from a distance. You two lock eyes for a moment, and smile at one another. Neteyam saw that as a sign to come over as he slowly started walking towards you and Tirea.

“Oh great mother, he's coming this way!” Tirea squealed, trying to hide her excited grin. Your eyes widened at her, as you purse your lips.

“Keep your voice down!” you hit Tirea in the arm, but before you knew it, he was towering over your sitting body.

“How are you, y/n?” a deep melodic voice spoke behind you, and you almost froze. You turned around, smiling up at him nervously before standing. You greeted him as you would your olo’eyktan, and he greeted you back.

“Hi, Sir.” you spoke, bowing your head. He shook his head with a light chuckle. He looked down at you, placing his huge hands on either sides of your shoulder.

“What have I told you? You can call me Neteyam.” he laughed before looking down at the unfinished bracelet in your hand. He sighed, and smiled before grabbing it.

“This is the fourth one in 3 days! You’ve got to learn how to say no to Tuk.” He grinned at the bracelet before handing it back to you. You chuckled lightly, grabbing the bracelet from him.

“I-its really not a problem, si- shit! Neteyam.” you fumble on your words, looking down at the moss underneath your feet, praying that it would just swallow you whole to rid you of this embarrassment. Neteyam chuckled at your nervous demeanor before placing his hand on your chin, lifting it up to face him.

“I'm up here, my love.” he spoke softly, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip. Your body immediately felt hot, and your gaze became heavy upon his beautiful face. He bit his lip before sighing, knowing that what he was engaging in wasnt the best choice. He let you go and backed away before speaking again.

“Listen, your father wanted me to talk to you about training.” he smiled sarcastically knowing what you were going to say. You weren't really the best hunter, and you damn sure weren't a warrior. However, your father wanted you to train so that you could have some experience in it, even if it wasn't much.

You snarled at Neteyams sentence, causing him to throw his hands up.

“I know you don't like hunting, but it is your father's wish. Just be a good girl for him, ok? Don't cause him any trouble.” Neteyam spoke with a loud sigh before placing his hand on your shoulder again. You looked up at him, nodding hesitantly.

“Ok good..” he stared, smiling down at you.

“ Come by the old shack, after eclipse?” he asked, nodding at you. You sigh, rolling your eyes before agreeing with him.

“Yes, si-, Neteyam! Sorry.” you shut your eyes from the immediate embarrassment. He shakes his head and throws his head down.

“I’ll see you tonight, my love..bye Tirea.” he grinned before walking off. You turned around to meet Tirea’s eyes glued to neteyam as he walked away.

“Byeee!” she spoke in a trance-like manner. You rolled your eyes before hitting Tirea’s leg to knock her out of her trance.

“Ouchhh! What was that for?” she shouted, rubbing her leg.

“He wants me to meet him at the old shack??? TONIGHT?? Why not tomorrow morning or something?” you asked Tirea with a confused look. Tirea grinned at you knowingly.

“Now you know exactly why he said TONIGHT y/n…” she started, looking around to make sure that no one could hear her next statement.

“He wants to give you that olo’eytkan dick, girl.” Tirea whispered, laughing right afterwards. You tried not to grin, but you couldn't help it.

“No fucking way! I'm too young for him…he doesn't see me in that way.” you shake your head, looking down into your lap.

“Suuuree, y/n, whatever makes you feel better. Let me know how the dick was tomorrow.” she spoke, getting up to walk away.

“There will be nothing to tell.” you shoo her off, before going back to the bracelet.

It was about 30 minutes to eclipse, as you waved your father off to go meet Neteyam.

“Father, im leavingggg!” you shout as you walk towards the hut door.

“Wait, y/n!” your father shouted, walking towards you with a smile. He stood in front of you, cupping your cheek.

“Thank you for not fighting me on this. I know you are not happy about training, but It will benefit you. You should be thanking Neteyam for helping you, he is a very busy man. He could teach you a lot, so learn well, y/n.” your father explained with a soft smile. You looked up at him, and sighed before shooting him a smile.

“Ofcourse, father. I must be going now.” you say, walking away.

“Be safe, y/n.” he shouted, waving you off.

“All the time.” you shout, running towards the forest.

You had been walking for a while, as you thought about your conversation with Tirea from earlier. Why would Neteyam bring you to a secluded part of the forest if he wasn't trying to make a move? Had you really been blind all this time, not seeing the obvious signs? Or were you blowing this entire situation out of proportion? He was olo’eytkan for crying out loud. Why would he want to court your young ass?

You were ripped out of your thoughts when you saw him. Sitting on the decomposing steps of the old shack, looking into the night sky. His freckles glowing in the moonlight. His long braids flowing down his back. His toned arms, and the way he held his bow. He made you melt, he was unbelievably gorgeous, you could stare at him all day.

He finally turned around to see you lurking in the shadows. He smiled, motioning for you to come sit next to him. You obliged, walking towards him, sitting next to his huge figure. He looked at the stars above you two.

“Isnt it pretty, y/n? The night sky?” he asked, before looking back at you.

“It’s beautiful, sir!” you look up in amazement, admiring the night sky before you feel a huge hand on your thigh, squeezing it tightly. Your eyes shot down to your thigh, as your breath started to quicken. You started shaking under his touch, and he noticed.

“What did I tell you about that, y/n?” he spoke, inches away from your ear. You hesitantly look into his eyes, mouth agape from panting nervously. He chuckled, noticing your nervousness, before throwing his head down, shaking his head.

“I-im sorry, y/n. Call me whatever makes you feel comfortable.” he gazed at you through his eyebrows, as he let your thigh go. You immediately felt cold without his touch. An overwhelming amount of confidence came over you, as you leaned in, kissing his lips passionately. His eyes widened before he started kissing back. His strong arms, pulled you ontop of him, deepening the kiss. His hands slid down to your ass, gripping it as he groaned in your mouth.

It felt so good, but Neteyam knew that this wasn't right. He was supposed to be training you, not mating with you. Your father entrusted him to teach and protect you. He pulled away from the kiss hesitantly, sighing loudly as he looked down, too embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“As much as i want to take you down, right here, right now.” he started, eyeing you up and down.

“We can’t, this would not work.” he explained holding your waist. you sighed, looking at him with desperate eyes.

“Why not? Have I done something wrong?” you ask, caressing his broad shoulders. He bit his lip at your innocent demeanor. The way you looked at him, and blamed yourself for absolutely nothing made his heart skip a beat.

“No, absolutely not! It is my fault for falling for you the way that I have. Your father told me to train you, not mate with you. I should know better.” he shook his head, pursing his lips. You blushed at his statement, not believing that this was really happening. All of the signs, and hints he threw your way, they were all real. All of the nervousness that you felt was masked by lust. You wanted him so bad, and now was your chance. You tilted your head at him, looking at his lips, then his eyes. He noticed the sudden change in you, and his eyes widened.

“Do you ever just…..let loose, Sir?” you asked, trailing your dainty hand down his abs. His breathing hitched, as he shut his eyes tightly.

“I know you’re a very busy man, and I appreciate you coming out here to train me. How about you train me in something a little more…” you finally reached his loincloth, slipping your hand in to grab his throbbing cock.

“Intimate.” you smile, watching his face contort in pleasure. He growled loudly as you started to jerk him off.

“y-y/n! We c-cant. I'm too old for you.” he says in between moans. You bring your forehead to his, staring at him through your eyebrows.

“Please, neteyam. I need you…” you plead with him, as you untied his loincloth. He looked down, and then looked back up at you. He sighed, looking around frantically before snapping his head back at you.

“I need you too, princess. You don’t know how bad I need you.” He confessed as his hands caressed the small of your back. You finally got his loincloth off to reveal his hug, veiny cock, springing up towards the bottom of your breasts. You look back to meet his eye, getting close to his ear.

“Oh, I think i know, daddy.” You whispered, letting your fangs graze his earlobe with every word. That sentence alone was enough to make him completely feral. He stood up, with you in his arms. He laid you on the moss, hovering over you with hungry eyes. He leaned down to your ear as he squeezed your small waist.

“Fuck “neteyam”, call me that from now on.” He whispered seductively, attacking your neck. You wrapped your arms around his broad back in hopes of bringing him closer to you. He pulled away from your neck going straight to your lips. He slid his hand down into your loincloth, massaging your clit. You moan into the kiss, biting his lip causing him to growl loudly. He pulled away from the kiss, sitting up to tear your loincloth off. He stared at your glistening cunt, licking his lips, then back at you with a small grin.

“I want you to sit on my face, right now.” he commanded before laying down next to you. You sat up on your elbows, eyes wide from his statement. Before you could answer, he was pulling you onto his face. You hovered over him, the rest of his body in your view.

‘Neteyam, I don't want to hurt you.” you whined trying to resist sitting on his mouth. He slapped your ass hard before speaking,

“Do it!” he said in a dark voice, pushing your hips down on him.Your legs finally gave out from his pulling, causing you to moan out loud at his tongue swirling around your cunt. You threw your head back in pure bliss, using his chest for leverage.

“You taste so good, princess.” he groaned into your cunt as he sucked on your clit. Your jaw dropped, as you gripped the sides of his waist.

“Neteyam, fuck!” You cried, trying to rise off of him, to no avail. He had the strongest grip on your tiny waist. He slapped your ass once more.

“Who?” he asked, kissing your cunt, sending volts of electricity through your entire body.

“Mmmm, i-im sorry daddy!” you whined, looking down at his hard cock in front of you, watching it pulsate and throb. You decided to go to work on him.

“Ohh shittt!” he groaned, throwing his head back onto the moss beneath him. You were bobbing your head on his hard cock, as you swirled your tongue around the tip. He went back to sucking your clit, as he thrusted into your mouth. His thrusts to the back of your throat made you choke, as tears ran down your face. He flicked your swollen clit with his pointed tongue, making the knot in your stomach build.

“D-daddy?” You whine, pulling away from his cock briefly.

“Mhhmm?” he mumbled, still attacking your clit.

“I-I’m” you stutter as your legs started shaking. You sit up, throwing your head back.

“You’re what, princess?” he whispered into you cunt, sending you over the edge.

“Mmmm im cummingggg!” you scream as your eyes roll to the back of your head, still shaking violently. He licked your juices up, as you desperately tried to catch your breath.

“So sweet, y/n!” he muttered, kissing your sensitive clit before patting your thigh, signaling for you to get up. You slowly raise off of him, taking a seat by his side. He sat up, watching you pant loudly. He chuckled, laying you back down onto the moss. He hovered over you, leaning down to your ear.

“Im gonna get you pregnant tonight. I need you to have my babies.” He whispered, massaging your clit with his tip.

“Mhmm, I want it all! give it to me, please.” You beg, spreading your legs wider, giving him easy access. He glanced down at your dripping cunt, making his mouth water, before looking back up at you, drunkenly.

He sat up, keeping eye contact with you. He grabbed your thighs pulling you close to him harshly, making you gasp. He spit on your cunt, tapping your clit with his tip. He bit his lip, glaring at you with low eyes.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit outta you.” He muttered, licking his lips before sliding into you slowly. You gasp at his size, gripping the moss under you.

“Fuck!” You yelled sharply, shutting your eyes. He finally slid all the way in, with a low groan as he threw his head back. You looked down at your stomach, noticing a huge bulge where his tip stopped. He looked down at you, completely fascinated by how big he was inside of you. He chuckled before pressing down on your lower abdomen, thrusting into you slowly. You moaned at the feeling of being filled to the brim.

“I’m gonna make you mine, baby.” He groaned as he picked up the pace, holding onto your tiny waist as he rutted into you.

“Ughhh daddy, it’s too much!” You whine, crawling back on your elbows. He titled his head at you sadistically, pulling you back down onto his cock. He leaned down, gripping your neck tightly, making you whimper.

“I thought this was what you wanted, princess? You’ve gotta take it now.” He explained through gritted teeth, as he picked up the pace again. All you could hear was skin clapping, and squelching noises. Your moans got caught in your throat as your jaw dropped.

“You have nothing to say now, huh? You like when daddy fucks you sensless?” He asked kissing your bottom lip lightly. All you could do was nod frantically, mouth still agape. You finally gasp loudly, crying out at the feeling of his cock drilling into you deep. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach, shutting your eyes immediately.

“No,no look at me when you cum, princess.” He grinned, gripping your neck tighter.

“Pleaseeee, I- I can’t!!!” You plead, eyes still closed.

“Yes you can, baby. Open your eyes.” He grunted, watching your face contort. You finally opened your eyes, looking down at the source of pleasure. You watched as his hips rolled into you slow and steady, making you lose it. Your legs started shaking, and your eyes rolled back.

“I’m cummingggg!!!!” You scream, squirting all over him as you but your lip.

“Yessss baby, give it to me!!!” He moaned, helping you ride out your high.

“Now it’s my turn…” he flipped you over on your stomach, pulling your hips up towards his pelvis as he pushed your head down onto the forest ground. He slid into you slowly, causing you to cry out.

“I know baby…be a good girl and take it, ok?” He said softly, thrusting into you hard and deep. He threw his head back, grunting loudly before gazing back down to watch your ass slap his pelvis repeatedly.

“You look so good like this, y/n!” he moaned, pulling you up by your hair, wrapping his giant arm around your small torso. Your soft moans were too much for him, as he felt the knot starting to form in his stomach.

“I’m gonna fill you up soon, baby, are you ready for me?” He grunted in your ear, grabbing you by the folds of your arms.

“Yesss daddy, I need you!” You whinned, gripping his strong arm as you felt your high coming for the third time.

He felt you clench around him, making him moan out loud as he shut his eyes tightly, leaning down to the crook of your neck.

“I want you to carry my children, right here.” He let out a breathy moan, pressing on your abdomen as he thrusted deep into you.This sent you over the edge.

“Daddy, I’m cumming againnn!!!!” You yelled as you convulsed in his arms, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your mouth flew open.

“Shitttt, me too baby!!” He groaned, as his eyes rolled back, shooting his thick load into your womb.

“Oh my God, yesssss!!!” You shouted as you felt his cum leak into your stomach. He thrusted into you slowly, watching his seed coat his cock with every stroke.

“Such a good girl, y/n.” He smirked as he pulled out of you, watching his seed leak out of you. He smacked your ass before flipping you over on your back. You gently caressed his cheek as he looked down at you.

“Thanks for the training, daddy.” You eyed him up and down, biting your lip. He grabbed your neck lightly, bending down to give you a passionate kiss.

“Anytime…”

Ok so this was the story that was most voted today. Really quickly, can we talk about how Neteyam was supposed to be training her, and he ended up mating with her, like sir????? What happened to the original plot??? Anyways, i hope y’all liked it as much as I liked writing it. Until tomorrow, love y’all!!🫶🏽😎

Outtie❤️🖖🏾,

Pandorxx

#avatar #avatar smut #avatar loak #avatar the way of water #loak x reader #loak headcanons #neteyam headcanons #neteyam fanfiction #jake smut #avatar headcanons #loak smut #jake sully #loak sully #loak x y/n #jake headcanons #neteyam smut #jake x reader #jake x y/n #loak #neteyam

[arcielee]

Only if for a night.

Summary: You find comfort in your husband's brother. Paring: Aegon Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 3750 Warnings: Just some smut. Smidgen of Targcest in the beginning, voyeurism, marital cheating, oral (f receiving, m implied), fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint. Author's Note: This was a request from my darling anon! This idea literally had me obsessed until I completed it, so please don't think this is the bar for my response time. 😂 Also, a big thank you to my kindred spirits who answered my v. important questions about Aegon's booty! (You know who you are and Ily 💜) Banners & dividers by @cafekitsune Update: This story has a pick your own ending. And you told me I should concentrate. [Aegon x you] But you came over me like some holy rite. [Aemond x you] Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @itbmojojoejo @lovelykhaleesiii @darylandbethfanforever9

You felt numb from the sight: seeing your husband on his knees and feasting between the plush thighs of the queen.

It formed a knot that choked you, but it did not stem from a lover’s jealousy–as you knew that you did not love Aemond and he, certainly, did not love you. You always knew your marriage was one of honor and duty, to solidify victory, a peace offering postwar.

You came from a house that was reputable and wealthy, bringing a sizable force to ensure that King Aegon II would remain on the Iron Throne. Your father boasted of marrying his only daughter into the Targaryen dynasty and you felt fortunate to be given a handsome husband, despite his scarred socket. 

Prince Aemond already had a fierce reputation that preceded before you met; your ladies-in-waiting tittered over his disfigurement, his sense of bloodlust, and their hushed whispers of kinslayer that haunted him still despite that the kingly decree his actions were that of a true dragon. He was a renowned veteran of the war that was won, that instilled his brother as king without question, and in return he remained prominent on the council, serving still as the Protector of the Realm. 

You were shy, intimidated even, when you first saw the severity that lined his features, the unabashed gaze with his sapphire stone that replaced the eye lost, but you decided he was handsome in a way that was uniquely his own. You also  found Aemond was respectful and kind, that he was intelligent, he was considerate, and you sighed your relief, knowing all too often how ladies would be knitted to cruel lords. 

For your bedding ceremony, the only glimpse of the dragon that thrummed beneath was how Aemond barked to dismiss the maesters, the Lord Hand, allowing you both privacy to complete the act. He seemed well aware of the discomfort a maiden could feel and treated you with the utmost courtesy, mindful of your sighs, your soft sounds to completion.

He was dutiful and he was diligent. It was not love at first sight, not like the stories told; there was no fluttering of butterfly wings throughout nor did your heart skip a beat at the sight of him, but you enjoyed his company, his consistency, and his consideration. 

In all, it was a formidable match and you were certain the marriage would be a success. 

Especially once you produced a silver haired royal babe. 

Which is why you were freshly bathed and dressed in silk, just the quiet echoes of your slippered footfalls against the cobblestone that led towards your lord husband’s quarters. You thought yourself fortunate no white cloak was perched outside his door, and you pressed close to listen before you carefully turned the gilded handle of the door. 

The room was cast in the amber glow from the hearth and tapers lit, and it was the lewd sounds that first caught your attention. You were rooted in the doorcase, your eyelashes fluttered at the view in front of you. 

Aemond was bare from the waist up, the peaks of the silver scars peering through his silver hair, and he was kneeled before the velvet settee at the end of his bed. You watched the muscled definition of his backside, the golden glow of the fireplace highlighting his bareness, as well as the elegant arc of a calf that was draped casually over his shoulder. 

Your eyes followed the milky curve of this limb to look over his shoulder and see the flushed features of Helaena. She was seated on the settee, her laces loosened which allowed the natural spill of her chest, with the peak of her areolas and the rose hues that stained the skin showing. Her skirts were rutted around her hips, the fabric spilling around, and her eyelashes fluttered with a silver glimmer, her head rolling back with a wave of her silver tresses. A smile curled on her kiss-swollen lips and there was a shudder of her pleasure that rippled viscerally over, her fingers curling against his scalp with the breathless whisper. 

“Aemond.”

The humiliation was hot in your veins and burned your cheeks; you willed yourself to move, but your eyes were rapt to attention, watching the frantic rise and fall of Helaena’s chest, her nipples pebbled, and the spilled moans from her mouth.

"Aemond, Aemond, Aemond…"

You left as quietly as you entered; your steps were soft, quick to take you back, with one hand lifting the silk of your chemise and the other wiping the tears that began to spill. 

We were not in love, you remind yourself, but it still pinched a nerve within your chest. He was still your husband and you were duty bound to bore him a child, a son if the Lord Hand could choose. The act itself was not unpleasant, but Aemond had never…

Your thoughts were interrupted with a singsong call of your name; you were quick to wipe your face before turning to see the king.

“Your grace,” you offered him a feeble curtsy and even weaker smile. 

Aegon moved with a grace, a sway to his steps; his brow furrowed above his wide, lilac eyes, and there was a genuineness to his question. “Sweet sister, it is late, what has you out of bed?” 

Before you had been sent to King’s Landing, your mother warned you of his behaviors; you were also told the tale of how the newly anointed Lord Commander and your lord husband had to drag Aegon from the streets of Flea Bottom and place him on the Iron Throne. 

But this notoriety of his youth seemed to dissipate with the placement of the Conqueror’s crown he now wore proudly on his silver waves. It seemed to kindle the royal ichor in his veins, and he moved with an elegance as he pressed closer, peering at you with his continued concern.  

“I… I was feeling unwell and thought that I would go for a walk,” you chose your words carefully, trying to mask the threat of emotion that brimmed beneath. 

His brow quirked. “Alone?”

You swallowed. In this moment, you wished to slip away, to return to your rooms and drown in your sorrow, your failures as a wife in light of learning your new husband’s infidelities, your self-loathing for craving the passion Aemond displayed, wishing it to be shown towards you instead…

The silence hung thick, too long for his liking, and Aegon reached to take your hand, placing it into the crook of his arm. “It is late,” he repeated. “If you are unwell, allow me to escort you back to your quarters.” 

You fell in step, peering at him. Aegon was handsome, as your supposed all Targaryen men seemed to be; your eyes admired his silver tresses that curled at his shoulders, that showed golden with the lights that lined the corridor, casting a gold ring that reflected in the lilac of his eyes that flitted over you; his lips were rosy, an upwards curl when he noticed your stare. “You seem so solemn tonight,” he tried again. 

The proximity allowed you to smell the long day on him, mixing with the scents of lavender and tea tree oils, a regal musk that called to you to nestle your head against his chest and cry. “It is only that I am feeling unwell,” is what you said instead. 

His eyes were wide and watchful, but he did not argue and instead allowed the silence to envelope as he walked with you. Before you could wish him goodnight, he pushed into your room, ordering your handmaidens to fetch something to eat, as well as red wine to help settle your stomach. 

They jumped with his command, quick to listen, and soon enough you were sitting on the terrace that overlooked the coast of Blackwater Bay, holding a goblet that brimmed with a Dornish wine that stained your lips with each polite sip. Aegon sat across from you, a boyish grin as he dismissed your handmaidens for the night, before reaching to break the bread for you both. 

The silence followed from the corridor, settling over in a way that was not at all uncomfortable; you peered again at Aegon, a choked cry in your throat as you watched him take care to slice the cheeses and the olives for the bread, before offering it to you. 

It was a simple, sweet gesture and you chewed, forcing down the bite with the wine. Whereas conversation had to be dragged from your husband, you found his brother’s tongue would not idle; perhaps it loosened from the wine, but it was not a mindless filler in a way that words are used as though silence were a threat, but you found Aegon to be cheerful, witty, as he shared stories from his youth. 

Aegon glowned from his narration, from the silver light that poured over; the night sky was empty with the clouds rolling over the black water, the air cool and salty. Your cheeks were rosy from your drink and your laughter, and when your cup emptied, he was quick to refill it. 

He pressed for your turn and you shared about your life before coming to King’s Landing. Aegon was an attentive listener, with sighs punctuating; you looked to see that his cheeks were pink from the wine and the wind, a curl returning to his lips. “My brother is fortunate to have such a pretty and witty wife.” 

Those words were the unknown catalyst broken; you did not sob your sorrow but instead there were large tears that rolled down your cheeks. You did not realize you were shaking until you felt his fingers, his touch warm, soft, wrapping gently around your wrist. You allowed him to pull you from your seat, towards him–now standing–and enveloping you into his arms for a moment before he sat back down, pulling you onto his lap. 

Your mannerly upbringing roared in your ears, this was wrong, this was improper, to be pulled into an unchaperoned embrace of your husband’s brother–the fucking king of the Seven Realms. But instead you curled against his chest, that regal musk soothing, his warmth pleasant against the nip of the air. You indulged in his comfort–his palm rubbing slow circles along your spine, his other arm across your lap, his hand gripping into your thigh. 

His touch grounded you, allowing you to compose yourself and share with him what you had found in Aemond’s quarters, making sure to elicit a detail that Aegon freely supplied.

“He was with Helaena, right?”

You looked at him. “You knew?” Your voice cracked, incredulous. 

Aegon only hummed, continuing his soothing ministrations, his hand rubbing your backside. “I thought you did as well,” he admitted. “Our status within the Seven Realms… requires certain duties to be fulfilled. We are honorbound to these obligations, to ensure peace amongst the kingdoms. But it is just a role to be played for the public.” 

You knew this in part already; you were always aware of the duty of your marriage, the child that you were expected to bring into the world. But still, the truth spoken brought a new wave of tears that he consoled. Your body burned with his touch, his finger curling and his thumb pressing into your chin to bring your watery eyes to his own. “Is it that you love him?” He asked with a curiosity that could not be helped, in light of your reaction. 

You did not, and would never, certainly not after this night. The tears that spilled came from something deeper, something that licked your belly when your eyes lingered in Aemond’s room, and your voice quavered, hiccupping to explain this. 

Aegon had an almost kingly glow in the moonlight, with its silver light reflecting in the stubble that spread across his square jaw, framing the mischievous grin that curled on his wine stained lips. “Is your husband,” he speaks of him like he is apart from Aemond, not knitted within the same womb, with the same dragon’s blood thrumming in his veins, “not fulfilling his marital duties?” 

You stammered with your response. This was not what you meant, as Aemond was courteous to his completion, but it was never like what you spied tonight. You flushed remembering the shades of pink that plumed against Helaena’s porcelain skin, how her back arched with her cries, his name a fervent prayer spilling from kiss-swollen lips… 

"Aemond, Aemond, Aemond…"

Aegon’s timbre brings you back out to the terrace, with his continued soft circles on the outside of your thigh. “You would know if he had,” he spoke so casually, almost flippant with the subject. 

How would you know? And you regret your question, your naivety apparent with your words. 

The same mischievous smirk returned to his lips, and as the moonglow spilled over him something glimmered, something knowing from how his brow quirked with your question. Aegon tilted his head up slightly, his lips now close to the soft divot beneath your ear, grazing your skin with his whisper, “I could show you.” 

Your lips part in shock, your eyes wide to look him over and see the flush of color that stained his cheeks, the wine that stained his lips. 

And you dared to kiss him. 

Your lips are shy to touch, almost chaste with your action, but Aegon responds, quick, his fingers curling at the base of your neck and his other coming around your waist. His lips are full, soft, warm with the hint of the sweet wine to taste when his tongue runs your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from you. He deepened the kiss, his tongue clever, careful, as he drew the very breath from your lungs. 

The spill of silk showed your shoulder and you gasped softly when he broke away, his mouth ravenous to capture the skin now exposed, with a wake of love bites from his open mouth kisses, and a warmth began to bloom within you. You touched his chest with a gentle push to stand and he lets go, his lilac eyes wide and wanting; your hands trembled slightly as you reached to pull him to stand, boldly leading him within your chambers. 

Aegon stopped you in the archway, and you turned to see the smile on his lips as he pressed against you, his thigh spreading your legs and his hands trailing your curves, settling and gripping onto your hip bones. His mouth captured yours once again, and your arms wrapped around his neck to bring him closer. 

You almost whined when he stopped the kiss, his eyes glassy and their color swallowed by pools of black. “My brother is an idiot,” is all he said. 

Before you could breathe a response, he pulled you into the room and back against his mouth, moving with the flutter of kisses along your jawline, nipping into the curve of your neck. His palms are still on the small of your waist, with guiding steps back towards the bed.

Clothes are removed with a passion, leaving a trail behind. “Lay back,” he coaxed, his hands warm against your bareness, careful to press until you laid against the mattress. Aegon followed after, climbing on top of you to meet with another kiss, with his sweet murmur, “Let me show you.”  

It is a tickling sensation, the mixture of his stubble with the softness of his lips against the curve of your neck, trailing to your chest. Gooseflesh rippled over, your nipples peaking from the warmth of his touch; his palm cups one breast while his hot mouth latches to the other, teeth and tongue teasing. 

You squirmed beneath him; his chuckle was low and warm against the valley between your breasts, from shifting his focus from one to the other. “So impatient,” and his hot kiss sends shivers down your spine, with an intensity that you know will mark you. 

You shivered again with that thought.

This reaction encouraged a tensity shown to your nipples, his tongue swirled and another crest of pleasure rippled over, your hand moving to cover your mouth to muffle. Again, his fingers curled around your wrist, pulling your arm down to your side and pushing up to find your lips. “None of the that,” and his lips curled into an almost wicked smile, “your king wishes to hear you.” 

Satisfied with the crimson that flooded your cheeks, Aegon moved towards your core with sporadic kisses trailing, a warm tickle of his exhale as he nestled between your thighs. 

Your heart fluttered with the intimate kiss he placed, something that sparked a warmth that began to spread out towards the apex of your thighs and beyond. Your hips buck slightly from the sensation and you can feel him grin against your cunt. 

“So eager,” he breathed, a warm thrill against your slick slit, his tongue flitting with a precision that had you panting. “Yes, just like that,” he praised, his fingers now pressing within your velvet walls and stretching as one curled within, then another. 

His mouth, his touch was practiced, pulling something to blossom within the pit of your stomach, a fluttering sensation that built with the tandem of his fingers and his tongue.

You gasped, peering to see the top of his head, the spill of his silver waves as he moved, ravenous, determined. You writhed, a pitiful mewling sound, and his one hand moved to curl underneath your thigh, holding you in place with his continued sinful motion, your arousal spilling onto the bedsheets. 

It was too much, and you whimpered, “A-Aegon,” as your hands balled to grip the linen. 

“Just like that,” he purred against, his rhythm building still, a pressure threatening to burst within you. “Come for me, sweet girl.” 

It engulfs you as though you had been dropped into Blackwater Bay, a rush that spilled with the come hither curl of his fingers, pressing his lips against the sensitive bundle of nerves above. You see the stars when your eyes flutter closed, the spill of tears that pearled in the corners of your eyes, your chest heaving to catch your breath and your thighs trembling. 

His praise was low, husky. “You are so beautiful like this.”

You slowly propped yourself onto your elbows, flushed, and reached towards him, but he stopped your hand. “Next time,” Aegon promised with a cheeky grin. 

You are flushed from his actions, from his words, your heart rate picking up again as Aegon climbed on top of you, nestling into the cradle of your hips. His expression was smug, his lips and chin slick, and you kissed him, hungry for him, curious of your own taste; you enjoyed the salty sweetness from the Dornish wine that mixed. His hand dipped between, lining himself with your entrance, and you sighed into his mouth. 

Aegon has girth, a thickness to him that stretches your walls. You gasp, then another whine that spilled as he pushed to sheath fully within you; Aegon swallowed your cries with his kisses, his hips still to allow you to adjust to his size, checking before he began his slow rut against your hips.  

You pant against his chest, your fingers digging into the twin divots on his lower back as he filled you with each thrust, a bruising pace that began to spark in front of your eyes. You cling to him with a desperation, still sensitive from your first release and flustered from the touch of his bare skin against your own.  

There is the sudden emptiness when he pulled away, positioning himself on his knees, his palms wrapping around your ankles and pulling to place your feet against his chest; your hips cant up, allowing him to be swallowed by your warmth again, a guttural groan that reverberates through when you clenched.

This new angle sparked another cry, lights dancing across your eyes with his pace; he was grinning down at you, pausing to turn his head with a quick kiss to the arc of your foot, and you giggled. 

His large hands moved to press onto the mattress, caging you, and he rolled his hips against your own; the wet squelch with your soft cry as he bruised within. You mewled his name when his pace quickened, pistoning his hips against. 

There was the returned flutter of pleasure and Aegon lifted one hand. “Open,” and you obey, your tongue touching the pad of his thumb, swirling to coat it with your saliva. When he pulled back, a bit of spittle broke off onto your chin, and his hand dipped to press against the bloom above, his touch soft, searching. 

Yours cries are unbridled at the touch of your pearl, and his satisfaction was apparent on his flushed features, his hips finding a new pace with his new ministrations. Your muscles tightened in response, your back arching against, and it comes, a tidal wave, an intensity that shudders throughout, rattling your bones beneath. 

Aegon continued through your peak, his thrusts growing sloppy to chase after his own release before melting against you, with a low groan into the junction of your neck that rumbled pleasantly through you. 

You both lay there in an intimate tangle of bare limbs until your breathing evened. Aegon rolled onto his side and reached to touch your hip, his lilac eyes roaming over you, admiring you. “Beautiful,” he declared, then leaned closer for a gentle kiss. 

You giggled again, pulling away to clean up. Aegon allowed it, but was adamant that you remained bare, pulling you back to bed after and curling up against, his face nuzzling into your neck; your skin rose in response. 

“For duty, for honor,” he murmured, moving to pull you until your head rested on his chest; his soothing scent and musk of sex now clung to the linen. “A silver haired child all the same,” and he kissed your hairline with his confession. “The twins, Maegor, I am not even certain they are mine or not, but I love them nonetheless.” 

“The blood of the dragon,” you whispered, tilting your head back and allowing him to kiss you once again. 

You felt a new satisfaction, a new understanding of your role within the Targaryen dynasty. The thought warmed you, I love them nonetheless, as you nestled against his chest, allowing the rise and fall to lull you to sleep. 

arcie's masterlist

#hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon x you #aegon x reader #this was also inspired by the tag #aemond aemond aemond #only if for a night #update 9/27

[queentala]

No hush Ur amazing also oops 😭 I totally thought u wrote guys my age for a good sec anyways😂, here’s a situation i dreamt up for the whole Yandere Gavriel thing Long story short he's been obsessed with you since he saw you on Aedions arm at a ball thrown by none other than her Majesty Aelin to celebrate their victory over the valg 

he would abuse his easy access to your rooms in a deranged attempt to learn everything about you

 he was on edge around you to the point you thought he disliked you eventually relaxing when he realized you and Aedion were simply friends 

he felt his control slipping like blood on the dungeons harsh stone floors after seeing ur underthings thrown haphazardly around your bedchambers 

 eventually he couldn’t contain himself slipping into your room in the dead of night his face inches from yours as he took your pink silk underwear and wrapped it around his length trying his hardest to imagine it was you

you swore you heard growls following you around whenever you left the castles secure walls to explore the markets 

I was also imaging y/n training with the young guards and Gavriel losing his shit over their pathetic attempts at flirting and him doing something idk also getting chased through the woods would be really cool because their relationship is  giving me Beauty and the Beast energy ✨but these are all just long ass suggestions whatever you do will be cool asf but pretty please 🥺can they have a chase through the woods 🧚scene my uterus would be utterly destroyed 🥵🌸🥵

ps whats ur favorite song at the moment?

mines nectar of the gods by lana del rey

O ma faking god, GAVRIEL MASTURBATING WITH YOUR LACE!!! That is AMAZING! Love it 💥l o v e i t

And no, because imagine:

Gavriel and the cadre are on a war, burning kingdoms for Maeve and this shit. And you happen to be one of the victims whose city was burned. So as soon as you see enemy soldiers, you run.

But then Gavriel sees you. And he just falls, in that exact moment deciding you're the one for him. He chases after you, not knowing your name, not knowing anything about you at all, just that he wants, NEEDS, you.

You hear the footsteps, lungs burning as you ran as fast as you can. But it was not enough.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into harn chest as you both stop suddenly. You're panting more from fear now than exhaustion, but Gavriel only caresses your cheek gently, wiping the tear that escaped your eye without you knowledge.

"Shh, now angel. You're not in danger anymore. Not with me. I'll take care of you from now on, and no one will ever touch you again."

....

It's the most perfect thing I've ever come up with. I just know the moment I write this, I will become a god.

Ah, and my favorite song. It's kinda impossible for me to choose. Right now I'm in love with Work Song from Hozier, but my all time fav are Meet Me in The Woods, by Lord Huron, and Way Down We Go by Kaleo

#gavriel x reader #gavriel #throne of glass

[saintsenara]

Heyy!

I saw Tall Tales for Remarkable Riddles on your Halloween game and I think it might be the Bellamort parent trap one?

anon, you legend! you've absolutely smashed both your work in progress tag game choice and got a halloween guessing game answer absolutely bang on correct!

because you are absolutely right... tall tales and remarkable riddles (by delphini, aged nine) is indeed the product of me losing my head when i saw the week for rebels and renegades on the @ladiesofhpfest schedule and deciding that the thing the world needs at this dark time is - obviously! - bellatrix lestrange and lord voldemort becoming victims of the parent trap.

the other twin is nagini.

i am on the record as being a genuine delphini stan - and i will defend to the death the idea that her existence makes sense within both voldemort and bellatrix's canonical arcs - but my engagement with her in my writing so far has always been along the lines of how she comes to terms with her outrageously messy heritage once both her parents are dead.

this time, however, we're having a little look at what things are like for delphi in a world in which voldemort won the battle of hogwarts.

[he keeps harry's skull on his desk and doesn't entirely appreciate the irony of still being continually run rings around by a child.]

thinking about how bellamort cope in a voldemort-wins-au is something which i spend more of my brainpower on than i should, seeing as i'm a doctor... but i am completely obsessed with the idea that there's going to be a pretty enormous shift in their relationship once neither of them is having to constantly fight a war. because he's turned from a terrorist kingpin into a [occasionally] benevolent dictator and she's gone from being his best lieutenant to... well, what?

so bella's feeling lonely and disjointed, lord v's accidentally gone and got himself a desk job, and poor delphini has found herself stuck between two warring parents whose oddly functional partnership was absolutely tanked by her father's victory.

unfortunately, they're too busy kicking off at each other to notice that their daughter is a prodigious reader who spends a lot of time immersed in stories of cunning child-heroes and happy-ever-afters.

and who - in the time honoured tradition of all rebel girls - decides to take matters into her own hands and sort everything out...

by tricking them into falling in love.

is she going to be successful...? well, her attempts to lock her parents in the same room, force them to enjoy a romantic dinner, and get stuck in a place in which there is only one bed will - regrettably - flop.

the other scheme on the list?

ah, now that remains to be seen.

[where is rodolphus in this story...? don't worry about it! lord voldemort definitely didn't kill him!]

#work in progress ask game #asenora fics #tall tales and remarkable riddles #delphini riddle #i am a delphini stan account #and what of it #bellamort #nagini is just along for the ride

[minimoefoe]

doctor who rewatch thoughts (eleventh doctor)

for each episode there is:

for each episode there's two things I like (✅️) and one thing I dislike (❌️) (sometimes more/less) and general thoughts overall along with a rating out of five stars

there's a quick list of ep ratings and average series ratings at the bottom of the post

🍎 5.01 the eleventh hour

✅️ not to be dramatic but 'why did you say five minutes' gives me literal chills every time I watch it ✅️ the scene on the roof, seeing all the prev doctors, 'im the doctor. basically, run.'

I just love it so much like... how can you not stan

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🐳 5.02 the beast below

✅️ the whole 'old, last just made it kind' thing is my fave thing ever and I love that amy figures it all out ❌️ I've always liked liz 10 but she made me cringe a bit this time round rip

overall love it a lot, the smiler things are creepy, the resolution is cool, I love star whales

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🪠 5.03 victory of the daleks

✅️ eleven losing it and attacking the dalek lmao ❌️ why is he best buddies with winston churchill

it's just a bit boring like.. I literally sometimes forget this ep exists

⭐️⭐️💫

🪖 5.04 the time of angels

✅️ eleven's attitude towards river, like annoyance but also intrigue idk ✅️ amy rubbing her eye and dust falling is v cool ✅️ eleven's lil speech at the end and the music

love it a lot, cool vibes, I'm a big weeping angels stan

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🪨 5.05 flesh and stone

✅️ amy and river's dynamic is cool, I kinda wish I could watch without knowing they're mother and daughter ✅️ the doctor losing it a lil bit and shouting. mixed feelings about it, could be a negative on a different day but rn I think it's good ❌️ I understand that amy has been through a lot and her feelings for the doctor are confusing but how hard she goes tryna kiss him is insane. like attempt once, get rejected, move on. we didn't need all of that

idk which part I ike more, they're both bangers

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🐟 5.06 the vampires of venice

✅️ rory's first proper adventure, him clocking and calling out the doctor instantly, you love to see it ✅️ the moments where eleven and amy just get really excited about the stuff that's going on ❌️ amy thinking its weird for the doctor to be seen as her brother but not rory. dumb as hell

overall it's a decent ep. not obsessed but also don't hate it. has some good moments

⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🥶 5.07 amy's choice

✅️ when rory dies and amy shouts at the doctor and then decides that world is the dream ✅️ the dream lord being the doctor is very cool and idk I like seeing how the doctor really thinks of himself ❌️ far too many jokes about amy being big like.. planet? having rory call her chubs? not my fave

this is a great ep for getting clarity on how strongly amy really feels for rory, it's a shame the show back tracks and continues doing 'ooh who does she really love' moments

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🌏 5.08 the hungry earth

✅️ I like all the side characters ✅️ the doctor talking to/shouting at the silurian

overall a decent ep, not much to scream about but I like the vibes idk

⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🦎 5.09 cold blood

✅️ them talking about how they could try and make humans and silurians live in peace was interesting ✅️ the doctor silurian guy was cool ✅️ nasreen

a decent ep, don't have much else to say. rip rory

⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🌻 5.10 vincent and the doctor

✅️ how much vincent likes amy ✅️ the end scene with vincent at the gallery, obviously

the end doesn't get me quite like it used to, presumably bc I've seen it so many times, but it's a certified banger ep despite the mild sadness it causes

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🏠 5.11 the lodger

✅️ no companion (kinda) eleven is fun and I like seeing him trying and sometimes failing to be normal ✅️ I like craig sorry ✅️ the scene where eleven gibes craig all the info about who he is and why he's there ❌️ telling craig he looks like his sofa is a bit gross innit

overall a fun ep that I like a lot

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🛸 5.12 the pandorica opens

✅️ eleven realising rory is back ✅️ amy and rory chatting, amy crying, cut with river telling eleven what she's finding out and the kinda creepy music that plays

I don't think I praise this ep quite like some ppl do but I do like it. I've always just felt like there's a lot going on that my brain for some reason no matter how much I watch it, cannot fully take in so it feels a bit messy

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

💥 5.13 the big bang

✅️ obsessed with eleven hopping back and forth with the vortex manipulator ✅️ eleven punching rory ❌️ amy tryna kiss eleven at her wedding. literally piss off

there's something about the s5 finale where my brain refuses to retain whats going on. I mildly understand it but I couldn't explain it and anytime it's been explained to me I forget it pretty quickly afterwards. based on vibes and what I do know tho, it bangs

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🦈 a christmas carol

✅️ I love seeing the doctor interact with kids, especially eleven bc he basically is a kid lmao ✅️ silence is all you know is a BANGER ✅️ the idea of the doctor re-writing someone's life and that person watching it happen is pretty cool ❌️ idk if kazran and abigail really needed to get together, it's not the end of the world but does feel a lil weird that she's seen him grow up and then suddenly is like damn

overall a solid ep, always been a mild fave of mine. I like the music, I like the vibe, I like the story (for the most part), shoutout dumbledore

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

👩‍🚀 6.01 the impossible astronaut

✅️ the whole beach and initiations thing ✅️ river talking about how one day the doctor won't know who she is ❌️ americans

I feel like this is never really an ep I think much about but then when I watch it I'm like wait this does slap, ppl are right

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

📺 6.02 day of the moon

✅️ the resolution with the message within the moonlanding is cool ✅ river and the doctor kissing and river being sad when she realises it’s the doctor’s first time kissing her ❌️ the bit where they try and make us think amy might be talking about the doctor and not rory, literally stfu !!

preemptively gave it four stars when I still had like ten mins left, but there was some cool stuff in that last ten mins so

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

⚫️ 6.03 the curse of the black spot

✅️ rory high on siren song is funny ✅️ eleven has a lot of funny moments, specially early on, idk I like his vibes

I was not looking forward to watching this ep but it was fun actually, maybe I stan

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🦴 6.04 the doctor's wife

✅️ amy and rory running round the tardis is fun bc seeing more tardis is cool and it's also kinda creepy at points ✅️ the end where idris dies and eleven cries

funny, spooky, emotional. it has the range

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

😠 6.05 the rebel flesh

✅️ rory is so nice, I love him ✅️ the gangers have a couple of spooky moments and I like the cliffhanger ❌️ amy is mildly annoying

good ep

⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

👬🏼 6.06 the almost people

✅️ the doctor(s) ✅️ more spooky moments ✅️ the moral stuff idk ❌️ I get feeling weird about the gangers but amy comes off as really nasty with the 'don't call me that please' bs and her general attitude in both eps. glad she changes her opinion in the end but making her be that strongly against them was defo a choice and makes rory look wayy better than her bc he accepts them as ppl almost instantly (which tbf didn't work out amazing for him but yknow)

I find eps with difficult moral questions really interesting but also really frustrating. overall a good ep but felt like it went on a bit

⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🪖 6.07 a good man goes to war

✅️ vastra and eleven's mildly awkward chat about melody etc ✅️ the reveal that river is melody will get me every time ❌️ the fat and thin husbands moment was a bit weird

this isn't an ep I really think too much about spare for the river reveal but it is good idk. everyone coming together to save amy and the baby is cool

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🪼 6.08 let's kill hitler

✅️ the reveal that mels is river ✅️ the doctor and his cane, falling all over the place ✅️ river finding out who she is and saving the doctor ❌️ mels is really cringe and annoying sorry.. other than her final moments I am not a fan of her vibe at all

there's defo stuff going on in this ep that I'm not obsessed with but overall I do like it a lot, I think more than most ppl

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

😨 6.09 night terrors

✅️ rory being like 'oh my god we're dead aren't we' ✅️ eleven interacting with kids is always cute

actually better than I was expecting (last time I watching this ep I got bored and ended up skipping most of it) and is kinda creepy, but idc that much idk

⭐️⭐️💫

🤚🏻 6.10 the girl who waited

✅️ rory getting mad at the doctor ✅️ amy and amy talking to each other ✅️ rory and old amy talking at the end ❌️ amy pressing the red button.. embarrassing

overall I stan. obviously a great amy ep but also a great ep for rory too

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🦍 6.11 the god complex

✅️ rita, the fact the doctor instantly likes her and their interactions throughout the ep ✅️ the ppl who'd seen their rooms being all weird was cool ✅️ the reason they're there being bc of amy's faith in the doctor and rory being immune

an absolute banger, love it all, no choice but to stan

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

👶🏻 6.12 closing time

✅️ eleven interacting with children is so cute, I love him and alfie ✅️ the love confession distraction

there's actually so many small funny moments in this ep and i love craig and eleven as a duo, it's great idc

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

💍 6.13 the wedding of river song

✅️ amy killing madam kovarian ✅️ the wedding and river talking about how ofc ppl would be willing to help the doctor

an ep i've always had a love-hate relationship with bc there's aspects I enjoy but generally I thought it was just a bit odd. there's still a mild vibe there that i don't looove but I liked (and probably understood) it a lot more than I usually do

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🌲 the doctor, the widow and the wardrobe

✅️ eleven and the kids ✅️ the power of being a mother??? kinda cool ❌️ some guy following you home 'every day til you marry him' is a bit weird actually

I was not paying attention for most of it but the stuff I did pay attention to was fine

⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🥛 7.01 asylum of the daleks

✅️ owsin ❌️ 'it was a phase' comment

I have mixed feelings about some of the stuff going on in this ep, and there's a couple things I straight up dislike, but overall it's fine idk

⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🦕 7.02 dinosaurs on a spaceship

✅️ brian is such a legend ✅️ amy, nefertiti

don't have much to say but it's a fun ep. I like amy and eleven's chat too

⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🌵 7.03 a town called mercy

✅️ the doctor losing it and tryna kill that guy and amy being the voice of reason ✅️ the ending

a solid ep

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🕋 7.04 the power of three

✅️ amy and eleven's talk about if her and rory are gonna leave etc ✅️ the doctor's dodgy heart ✅️ brian!!

like this ep a lot for the emotional stuff and I think it's really cool to see eleven hanging around. the cubes are cool but idc about the ppl ngl idek what they were doing I wasnt paying attention. also shoutout kate

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🗽 7.05 the angels take manhattan

✅️ when the doctor reads the chapter title and loses it a bit ✅️ amy and rory's 'deaths'

love this ep a lot!! thought I was kinda desensitised bc I've seen it so many times but turns out it still makes me sad as fuck

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

⛄️ the snowmen

✅️ clara and the doctor's general vibe ✅️ clara and vastra ✅️ clara first seeing the tardis then getting dragged out

good ep

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

💻 7.06 the bells of saint john

✅️ the scene where elevens outside the house and clara is talking to him out the window ✅️ eleven's weird little dance when he's telling clara she should be doing 'young ppl stuff' ❌️ clara's clearly empty mug that she waves about on the plane and tardis annoys me

I am not that passionate about the villains of this ep, they're fine idk, but I love clara and eleven's vibes a lot

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🍁 7.07 the rings of akhaten

✅️ the long song is a certified banger and low-key makes me wanna cry ✅️ the doctor's speech

cool vibes, I like seeing all the aliens, the kid was good, clara and eleven are cute as usual and I liked her kinda calling him out at the end

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🥶 7.08 cold war

✅️ eleven and clara are cute

was not paying attention icl

⭐️⭐️⭐️

🏚 7.09 hide

✅️ clara getting freaked out in the tardis about her dead body probs being out there and the convo they have ✅️ 'every lonely monster needs a companion', eleven putting his arm around clara, it's a love story !!

there's a lot of great moments in this ep, I like it a lot

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🔥 7.10 journey to the centre of the tardis

✅️ seeing more inside the tardis is always cool, need more of it tbh ✅️ when the doctor freaks out at clara and she obvs don't know wtf he's on about ❌️ the doctor slapping clara's ass, and the fact she doesn't react at all, is kinda insane

I'm too stupid to understand how that 'big friendly button' actually reset stuff and idrc about the brothers but there's some stuff in there that I like for sure and the vibes are cool

⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🟥 7.11 the crimson horror

✅️ eleven and clara had some good moments ✅️ ada ❌️ eleven kissing jenny and being generally creepy

wasn't as painful to get through as I was expecting but still wasn't that great idk like I just don't care

⭐️⭐️💫

🏰 7.12 nightmare in silver

✅️ clara being in charge ✅️ everything with the cyberplanner ❌️ the tight skirt comment

the kids are mildly annoying but overall I think this is a pretty decent ep, a mild banger

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🪦 7.13 the name of the doctor

✅️ the doctor crying when clara mentions trenzalore ✅️ clara going into the timestream and the montage/narration ✅️ river, eleven seeing her ✅️ war doctor reveal

literally a banger idgaf

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

🖼 the day of the doctor

✅️ eleven, ten and war all meeting each other ✅️ all thirteen!! ✅️ the curator

there's just so many good moments in this ep like woah I have to stan. funny but also emotional, changes something big without taking away from what came before, love it a lot

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

🕛 the time of the doctor

✅️ eleven and clara's vibe ✅️ the timelords giving him extra regens ✅️ the regen speech !!

best regeneration episode by a mile I fear

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

series five episode ratings:

the eleventh hour - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the beast below - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 victory of the daleks - ⭐️⭐️💫 the time of angels - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ flesh and stone - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the vampires of venice- ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 amy's choice - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the hungry earth - ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 cold blood - ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 vincent and the doctor - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 the lodger - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the pandorica opens - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the big bang - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 a christmas carol - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

series five average rating:

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ | 4.1428571429

series six episode ratings:

the impossible astronaut - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 day of the moon - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 the curse of the black spot - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the doctor's wife - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 the rebel flesh - ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 the almost people - ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 a good man goes to war - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ let's kill hitler - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ night terrors - ⭐️⭐️💫 the girl who waited - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 the god complex - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ closing time - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the wedding of river song - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the doctor, the widow and the wardrobe - ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

series six average rating:

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ | 4.00000000

series seven episode ratings:

asylum of the daleks - ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 dinosaurs on a spaceship - ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 a town called mercy - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the power of three - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the angels take manhattan - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the snowmen - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the bells of saint john - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the rings of akhaten - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 cold war - ⭐️⭐️⭐️ hide - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ journey to the centre of the tardis - ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 the crimson horror - ⭐️⭐️💫 nightmare in silver - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the name of the doctor - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 the day of the doctor - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the time of the doctor - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

series seven average rating:

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ | 4.00000000

#doctor who #nataliechats

[daisylikesmedia]

Holiday Special 6: The Waters of Mars

OKAY IT’S TIME I can’t wait for the overview to say this, this is my favourite episode of Doctor Who. I’m so excited to talk about it with y’all so let’s go!! (fair warning, this review is a lil longer than my others, but I hope it's worth it to show y'all how much I love it.)

This is one of the last episodes where I’ll be able to reference my experiences as a child watching the show, but this context do be important. My biggest fear as a kid was water. Getting any kind of water on my face was a no-no, and I hated being in pools/at beaches and the like. The reason this context is important is because the villain of this episode IS water, and damn that freaked me out. My worst nightmare was conjured up into an alien parasite slaughtering a crew of heroes. Naturally, this makes me love them slkdfjhg. I like alien threats that aren’t fully explained, as I feel the lack of that knowledge adds to the horror, and with the already existing fear of water, having no knowledge on how we defeat them bar escaping/blowing the base up makes them soooo scary. As The Doctor says, “Water is patient, Adelaide. Water just waits. It wears down the clifftops, the mountains, the whole of the world. Water always wins.”. My personal experiences definitely lend to me loving this villain, but cmon can you blame me :3.

Another thing this episode does really well is give us characters to care about. The whole premise of this episode falls apart if we don’t like these characters/think they’re worth saving, and so I’m v happy they nailed it here. For the small amount of screentime these characters get, you can see how much they’ve sacrificed to go on this mission. There are several scenes where the crewmates are talking to/watching their family back on Earth, longing to be back there. It shows how far the crew is willing to go in order to further human exploration across the stars, and no character encompasses this more than Captain Adelaide Brooke. Her motivations are so clear, and her leadership within this group is so apparent. You fully believe she is one of the most important people in human history, and she commands that respect from you. The only time she loses control is at the crucial point in the story where The Doctor decides to save them, and even then she doesn’t let him get away with that scot-free. What an amazing one-off character that manages to truly challenge The Doctor as he goes off the rails.

And now, we get to talk about the main plotline of the episode. The spooky water aliens and amazing side characters help enable this plotline, but it is what makes this episode my absolute favourite. This is a Doctor Who episode where you *don’t* know whether he should save the humans. And not based on them being bad people, or because of a sympathetic villain. Because the rules of the show thus far have told us to respect fixed points (see Fires of Pompeii), with the crew destined to die on Mars, with their deaths inspiring their families to go and explore the cosmos. The Doctor, and thus you as the viewer, spend the episode weighing up whether The Doctor should stay or should go. He leaves just as the crew’s situation becomes the most dire, as half of them are taken by the flood. As he listens to their cries of desperation over the radio, visions of his past play in his mind, reminding him he’s the last of his kind. That his people, who governed the laws of time, aren’t here anymore. And with no-one left to stop him, in The Doctor’s own words: “The laws of time are mine, and they will obey me”. This is The Doctor at his most arrogant, and his most powerful point in his life. He saves the remaining crew members, and takes them home to Earth, where instead of the typical jubilation, the remaining crew are disgusted by his existence. As Adelaide puts it, “No-one should have that much power.”, and The Doctor, as the time lord victorious, responds “Tough”. Adelaide, in response to this, walks into her house and kills herself to put history back on track, and The Doctor realises just what kind of monster he has become. It’s chilling, he becomes jittery and manic, and The Doctor runs away like a coward as his death looms over him. What a turn. This is a story that takes our hero, and turns him into a monster. It shows just what kind of power The Doctor has, and what happens when he decides he wants to play God, and I love it. You may have noticed a theme, with me liking episodes that challenge and change The Doctor’s character, and no episode does this more than The Waters of Mars. I could go on and on, but this is who the 10th doctor becomes, when there’s no one there to stop him (You can go back to The Runaway Bride to hear Donna talk about this, this character arc has been building for YEARS and it’s so satisfying to see it executed so well).

TL:DR/Overview: Great villains, a fantastic cast of characters who command respect on screen, and a massive step in The Doctor’s character arc. This episode is not afraid to be critical of our hero, and turns him into a God we should fear. The deification of The Doctor is something I’ve mentioned in several of Tennant’s episodes, but this is the one where all those moments where The Doctor has shown his power come to fruition. This moment has been building and building since Series 2 and seeing it executed on screen feels so immensely satisfying. The ending to this episode is perfect to me, and from concept to execution this episode is original, unique, and tailor-made to fit this incarnation of The Doctor. I give you all, my favourite episode of Doctor Who.

P.S: Apologies for the length on this one, this is me holding back lmaoo I can talk about this episode for hours and hourss. I hope I was able to show y’all just exactly why I love this episode <3

#daisy reviews media #doctor who #10th doctor #the waters of mars

[theothershin]

More Fic Writer Asks

(Using it for original works and fanfics, since OP said that's okay)

the last sentence you wrote "Raising his hands in surrender, Gunther said, 'Take me to Arthur.' " - Heroically Foul

a character whose POV you’re currently exploring "And so he was loved because he was good at operating the kingdom, but only we know his black heart and dark ambitions." - Preservation of Those Three: Tybalt Arthur Verrell

how you feel about your current WIP Confidant. I feel like I'll get this done in a year or two, and well. There'll need to be rewrites and edits, but not much. Excited to put my thoughts down and share it with the world.

a story idea you haven’t written yet What if Romeo left Juliet, and she decided to marry Paris, and discovered he isn't all that bad after all?

first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP "But how to get to him?" - A Dream, a Heroically Foul side story

the word that appears the most in your current draft (wordcounter.net can tell you) More, been, and one. Not very interesting, but then again, I just barely began.

your preferred writing fonts Lobster for titles; Bad Script for chapter titles; Architect's Daughter for narration.

if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for… Help, video game fandom Aragami 2. it's a very in-depth and detailed version of one of the quests in the game where you play the main character, Kuro, or Warrior, going mad with anger and the desire for revenge - but you have lots of freedom. I took away that feeling of freedom, to show that he was doing what he was doing automatically, out of obligation, rather than because he really wanted to. I would write a sequel and even prequel cuz the game has great moments that would be great if narrated.

start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted? A little under a week, I believe.

what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it? Years. Let's leave it at that, yeah?

a WIP you’d like to finish someday Previously called My Lord, now renamed A World of Shadows, and more names pending, the fic is for the fandom, The Saga of Darren Shan/Cirque Du Freak, by tween Master of Horror Darren Shan. In the original book, two sides are fighting a war, and the fate of both sides lie with the main character, Darren Shan(has the same name as the author), and his friend, Steve "Leopard" Leonard. Darren, warned that his victory would eventually cause him to stray from righteousness in arrogance, sacrifices himself to kill Steve. In my fic, he kills only Steve - not himself. It explores Steve's mentor, Gannen Harst, as he tries to deal with his friend's death, his allegiance, losing the war, and his own brother - all while Darren slowly begins to lose himself to the dark side.

a trope you’re really into right now Medieval power struggle. Yes, I know. I told my sister just the day before writing this, "They're annoying in real life, but..." and then realised that isn't true. Sure, they can be annoying, but they interest me. Look into the morality/psychology, especially when there's sour kings who've gotten the wrong hand and are right but also wrong.

a fandom you’re thinking about writing for The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. The lore is vast and endless, and in a story where the main character's personality doesn't already exist yet they aren't just a blank-looking person and there's space to build a unique personality for them and act on it, there's lots of space for a fanfic.

where do you get your inspiration? Everything - literally.

favorite weather for writing Spring weather - it's ample time to sit down and write, but the weather itself is lovely. The birds are chirping in the sky, and sometimes they swoop down for a few seconds to grace you with the sight of their feathers; the ocean waves(I especially would love to write by the waves) crash against the rocks and sometimes splash on your face - but that's okay, because it feels good, and the bright, warm sun dries your book - and the sounds of nature helps you think.

favorite place to write I'm generally not allowed to sit and write when we're out and about, so on my desk. There's the most privacy, and I've written there so much that there's a vibe.

talk about your writing and editing process It changes over time and depending on which story it is and what type of story it is. I write fanfics between my originals - in school, between chapters, during writer's block for a specific story - and for originals, I write them every chance I can. I write down ideas for them whenever I can and have the notes stored away. When the time comes, I take out the notes and pour over them, changing them according to what I believe should be different and so on... I write down most of the events(then gradually all of them) and write them out of order(choosing from writing prompts), then put them together and read them in order. Then I edit them in order.

if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic I don't keep them, though it would be cool to be able to look back at it. I sort of keep originals, but I haven't published any yet.

the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic Prison. In my fanfic, Timeline, the main character goes to jail and rots away there until the end of his life.

in what year did you publish your first fic? 2021

when did you publish your most recent fic? 6 Jan 2024

do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that? Sometimes I worry, sometimes I don't. I write for myself. I got upset by some hateful comments once upon a time, and told my sister about it after following the criticism that they were saying, and she told me that they were wrong, and that they were only being hateful. I realise that since then, if the comment isn't nice, I block the comment and decide whether I'll adhere to it or not. I'm not a popular writer so I barely get comments and/or kudos, but when I do, it strengthens my resolve to be a great writer, but I don't let it affect me beyond that.

pick three keywords that describe your writing Messy but Organised

how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative? Organise notes. Read stuff. Play games. Do anything but be creative.

besides writing, what are your other hobbies? Reading novels and non-fiction. Playing games.

are you able to write with other people around? No. I don't know why. but the words fly away from me.

your favorite part of the writing process When everything's clicking together and my creative drive is never-ending and I get into flow.

your least favorite part of the writing process When the creativity dries up.

how easy is it for you to come up with titles? Not easy at all. I do it as I go along, but usually I get the right one when I'm done writing it.

share a fic you’re especially proud of Talk, for the novel series The Demonata by Darren Shan. It was inspired by Zukos_Honour and it's simple, to the point and savours the slowburn-one shot feels.

#writing #answering author questions #author questions #answered #originals x fanfics

[yhwhrulz]

Today's Daily Encounter Wednesday, March 27, 2024

Abandonment Issues — Resolved!

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?… those who seek him shall praise the Lord! May your hearts live forever!1

There is a seventeen-year age gap between my youngest brother and me. My mom had in me a built-in babysitter and so, my baby sibling and I became very close. However, a year later, when the time came for me to leave home, my brother, who had become very attached to me, found it hard to let me go. Years later, due to the fact that my family was serving in a church in Mexico, I decided to return to my parent's home during my pregnancy to receive maternity care in the States. My brother, now grown, approached me one day and told me how much he enjoyed having me home again, but wasn't sure he could handle it if I abandoned him again! He was joking, of course, as he went on to tell me that he had suffered "abandonment issues" and it was all my fault!

This cute little analogy led me to think of real "abandonment issues," like those our Savior faced on the cross. As he hung there feeling hurt and alone, Jesus lifted His eyes to the sky and yelled out to His Heavenly Father, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" Those words were filled with anguish at the thought that He must die alone for the Salvation of all mankind. He felt abandoned, forsaken; those who, only a week ago, had sung His praises, now all turned their backs on Him. Even God felt unreachable.

In Psalm 22, David also felt the bitter anguish of abandonment. Feeling as though God was far from him, David cried out: "O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest." (Ps. 22:2) But by the end of the chapter, David comes to the realization that God had always been there and he changes his tune a bit. He begins to point out God's goodness and eventually finds himself praising the God who is King over all the nations. (v.28) David's honest cry of abandonment was not the end of the story, just as Jesus' death on the cross was not the end of His story. And praise the Lord for that! Because, just like my brother can always count on me, even when I am far, we can rely on the Lord and live with the assurance that He is always with us! No abandonment issues here! They were resolved the day our Lord rose from the grave. What a Glorious Day!

Suggested Prayer: Heavenly Father, thank you for loving me so much that you allowed your Son to give His life for me. Thank you for being so good that even when I am far from You, Your Spirit is always with me. Thank you for being so mighty that, even in death, You rose victorious! In Jesus' name, Amen.

Psalm 22:1a & 26b (ESV).

Today's Encounter was written by: Veronica B.

NOTE: If you would like to accept God's forgiveness for all your sins and His invitation for a full pardon Click on: http://www.actsweb.org/invitation.php. Or if you would like to re-commit your life to Jesus Christ, please click on http://www.actsweb.org/decision.php to note this.

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[blowflyfag]

Pro Wrestling Illustrated: 1995 THE YEAR IN WRESTLING. March 1996

INSPIRATIONAL WRESTLER OF THE YEAR BARRY HORROWITZ: 22,361 votes

One year ago, Barry Horowitz was having a hard time inspiring even himself. Caught in the dreaded WWF shuffle. Horowitz was stuck at the very bottom of the rankings, and his prospects definitely did not look good. His chances of rising above prelim status in the WWF looked bleak.

Clearly, much has happened since then, enough to make our readers vote Horowitz Inspirational Wrestler of the Year.

“I'm so proud of Barry!” gushed Lisa Jourdan of Palo Alto, California. “He’s a winner. He’s really making a name for himself in the WWF now, and the way he did it is very inspiring to a lot of us who love a good underdog story.”

The good things started happening for Horowitz when Chris “Skip” Candido came to the WWF. Accompanied by his cohort Tammy “Sunny” Fytch, Skip decided to make Horowitz his first casualty in what he hoped would be a quick rise to the top. Barry didn’t cooperate, though, and scored a big upset over Skip at A TV taping on June 28. As Skip was doing pushups and showing off, Horowitz rolled him up and pinned him. He followed that up with another victory over Skip a few weeks later. For that match, Skip said all Horowitz had to do was last 10 minutes without getting pinned and he’d be the winner. Mission accomplished for Horowitz.

He proved the first two wins were no flukes when he pinned Skip at SummerSlam. In very dramatic fashion, at the most important card of the summer, Horowitz went from being one of the WWF’s biggest losers to one of its most celebrated and popular winners.

“What’s inspiring to me,” wrote Abdul Mohan of Tampa Florida, “is how Barry stayed around so long without giving up. When the chance came, he was ready to take advantage of it.”

Fans have rewarded Horowitz for his persistence by proudly sporting T-Shirts with his likeness on them and cheering him on as he attempts to prove that he belongs among the big boys. He’s now trying his hand at  tag team wrestling with Hakushi as his partner.

When Skip heard that Horowitz had won this award, he vowed his foe would not inspire anyone else at his–Skip’s–expense. If Horowitz keeps winning, you can be sure he’ll continue to be an inspiration to a lot of people.

RUNNERS-UP

SABU: 16,126 votes

First runner-up: In 1995, Sabu expanded the definition of the term “wrestling hurt.” He broke several vertebrae in an ECW match against Chris Benoit this spring, than wrestled two weeks later wearing a neck brace. Then he cracked his tailbone in a match in September and took no time off! Disagree with his tactics, but admire his dedication!

ANTONIO INOKI: 14,237 votes

Second runner-up: The Japanese legend continues to amaze. Over the past 18 months, he has defeated Lord Steven Regal, Sting and Ric Flair, the victory over Flair coming last April in front of 190,000 fans in North Korea. For a 52-year-old man, even one of Inoki’s caliber, these are remarkable accomplishments. 

DAN SEVERN: 12,109 votes

Third runner-up: For those who wonder whether wrestlers really have any guts, Severn had an answer: Stop wondering! By winning Ultimate Fight Championship V, Severn, the NWA champion, approved to the skeptics that pro wrestlers are the toughest athletes alive. Terrific wrestler, tremendous all-around athlete, that’s Dan Severn. 

VOTES FOR OTHERS (9,312)

Some of the top vote-getters who did not capture a runner-up spot include: Bob Backlund, Diesel, Bret Hart, Hulk Hogan, Jeff Jarrett, Lawrence Taylor, and Savio Vega.

#Barry horowitz #wwf #world wrestling federation #pwi #pro wrestling illustrated #magazine transcript #magazine scan

[drwilfredwaterson]

It's Too Late for Simpering Senile Snake and Diarrhea Dentures Dumb Chump donald j. trump. He's Been Fatally Poisoned by the Lies of Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey. And The United States of America Remains Great Without him. Part 1/4.

Earthquake: 04:54:56 GMT+3 Jerusalem, Israel, 01:54:56 UTC, 2023-12-07 17:54:56 PST Local Time

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English) Page 280: Numbers 1:54 The Israelites did accordingly: just as the Lord had commanded Moses, so they did.

Luke 1:54 He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful

John 4:54 This was the second sign Jesus performed after coming from Judea to Galilee.

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English) Pages 611 and 612: 1 Samuel 17:45 David replied to the Philistine, "You come against me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come against you in the name of the Lord of Hosts, the God of the ranks of Israel, whom you have defied. 1 Samuel 17:46 This very day the Lord will deliver you into my hands. I will kill you and cut off your head; and I will give the carcasses of the Philistine camp to the birds of the sky and the beasts of the earth. All the earth shall know that there is a God in Israel. 1 Samuel 17:47 And this whole assembly shall know that the Lord can give victory without sword or spear. For the battle is the Lord's, and He will deliver you into our hands." 1 Samuel 17:48 When the Philistine began to advance toward him again, David quickly ran up to the battle line to face the Philistine. 1 Samuel 17:49 David put his hand into the bag; he took out a stone and slung it. It struck the Philistine in the forehead; the stone sank into his forehead, and he fell face down on the ground. 1 Samuel 17:50 Thus David bested the Philistine with sling and stone; he struck him down and killed him. David had no sword; 1 Samuel 17:51 so David ran up and stood over the Philitine, grasped his sword and pulled it from its sheath; and with it he dispatched him and cut off his head. When the Philistines saw that their warrior was dead, they ran. 1 Samuel 17:52 The men of Israel and Judah rose up with a war cry and they pursued the Philisines all the way to Gai and up to the gates of Ekron; the Philistines fell mortally wounded along the road to Shaarim up to Gath and Ekron. 1 Samuel 17:53 Then the Israelites returned from chasing the Philistines and looted their camp. 1 Samuel 17:54 David took the head of the Philistine and brought it to Jerusalem; and he put his weapons in his own tent.

Strong's Concordance #56 abal: to bewail -- lament, mourn. Original Word: אָבַל

“I believe with complete faith in the coming of Mashiach. Though he tarry, nonetheless I await him every day, that he will come.”

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English): Page 1616: Proverbs 10:28 The righteous can look forward to joy, But the hope of the wicked is doomed. Proverbs 10:29 The way of the Lord is a stronghold for the blameless, But a ruin for evildoers.

3000+318…JC Sam & Dave - Hold On I'm Coming

Published: October 29, 2018 (302nd day) Duration: 2:32 (152 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vsJuhJJCdoI vsJuhJJCdoI cdhijjjosuv 3+4+8+9+600+600+600+50+90+200+700=2864. 2864+152=3016. 3016+302=3318.

Strong's Concordance #3318 yatsa: to go or come out, appear, bring forth, break out, escape, carry out, lead out, grow, spread out, be risen Original Word: יָצָא

Anton LaVey's Death: Wednesday, 29 October 1997 = 28th of Tishrei, 5758 Parashat Noach כ״ח בְּתִשְׁרֵי תשנ״ח Parashat Noach is the 2nd weekly Torah portion in the annual Jewish cycle of Torah reading. Torah Portion: Genesis 6:9-11:32 Noach (“Noah”) begins as God decides to destroy mankind with a flood. At God’s command, the righteous Noah builds an ark, where Noah, his family, and select animals survive the flood. Noah’s children bear children, and several generations develop. God confounds the speech of people building the Tower of Babel.

Anton LaVey's Black House Demolished: Wednesday, 17 October 2001 = 30th of Tishrei, 5762 Parashat Noach כ״ח בְּתִשְׁרֵי תשנ״ח Parashat Noach is the 2nd weekly Torah portion in the annual Jewish cycle of Torah reading. Torah Portion: Genesis 6:9-11:32 Noach (“Noah”) begins as God decides to destroy mankind with a flood. At God’s command, the righteous Noah builds an ark, where Noah, his family, and select animals survive the flood. Noah’s children bear children, and several generations develop. God confounds the speech of people building the Tower of Babel.

Strong's Concordance #6114 etser: to inclose, to restrain, restraint, detain, shut (up), stop. Original Word: עֶצֶר

The Black House was a building that formerly stood at 6114 California St. in San Francisco, California, in the United States. The house was used by Anton LaVey as the headquarters of his Church of Satan from 1966 until his death in 1997. LaVey conducted Satanic seminars and rituals at the house; one of the most notorious such rituals was the Satanic baptism of his daughter Zeena Schreck in 1967, punctuated by LaVey speaking the words "Hail Zeena! Hail Satan!" over the nude body of a female acting as the 'Satanic Altar'. Public ceremonies were performed at the house until 1972. LaVey lost ownership of the house in 1991 as the result of a court settlement resulting from his separation from Diane Hegarty, but LaVey was allowed to reside at the Black House until his death as a completely disempowered, non-magical, non-deity pathetic loser from absolute helplessness, powerlessness, weakness, severe poverty, poor health, increasing paranoia, and a pulmonary edema on October 29, 1997 at St. Mary’s Medical Center in San Francisco, CA. (Wikipedia) Following LaVey's death, members of the Church of Satan unsuccessfully attempted to raise funds to repurchase the house, and it was demolished on October 17, 2001. A duplex now stands in its place. (Wikipedia)

“if life teaches anything at all, it teaches that there are so many happy endings that the man who believes there is no God needs his rationality called into serious question.” ― Stephen King, It

“The timing was just right enough so that things worked out wrong for everyone.” ― Stephen King, It

“If there are ten thousand medieval peasants who create vampires by believing them real, there may be one—probably a child—who will imagine the stake necessary to kill it. But a stake is only stupid wood; the mind is the mallet which drives it home.” ― Stephen King, It

“Someday you're just going to go too far and that will be the end.” ― Stephen King, It

Trump Claimed ‘Magical Authorities’ Allowed Him to Do Illegal Things, Says Former Deputy Blasting Trump for "actively doing damage to our security," a former high-ranking Homeland Security official announces he is endorsing Joe Biden Tom Dickinson Rolling Stone August 18, 2020 Perhaps most alarming, Taylor says that Trump was undeterred by warnings that his chosen policy objectives were illegal: “He didn’t want us to tell them it was illegal anymore,” Taylor recalls, “because he knew that there were — and these were his words — he knew that he had ‘magical authorities.'” In the two-minute video, Taylor describes Trump not only as lawless, but as cruel and vindictive — alleging that the president sought to withhold FEMA aid to victims of wildfire in California because he was incensed that the state had voted against him, and that Trump wanted to restart the family-separation policy “to show those parents that they shouldn’t come to the border in the first place.” People who are still serving in this administration have said to me, 'Just wait until the second term. It’ll be no holds barred. It’ll be shock-and-awe. We’ll do what we want.' Given what I’ve experienced in the administration, I have to support Joe Biden for president. And even though I’m not a Democrat, even though I disagree on key issues, I’m confident that Joe Biden will protect the country. And I’m confident he won’t make the same mistakes as this president." https://www.rollingstone.com/politics/politics-news/trump-magical-authorities-miles-taylor-joe-biden-endorsement-1046114/

In me you will come forth, Lord: בֵּי תפֶּלֶ ט אַדּוֹן

Strong's Concordance #1046 Beth Palet: From bayith and paliyt; house of escape; house of output/production; house that delivers results; House of "Building Back Better"; a place in S. Judah Original Word: בֵּית פֶּלֶט

Strong's Concordance #114 Addon: powerful, lord, master, owner; a place in Babylon Original Word: אַדּוֹן

Anton LaVey believed in the imminent demise of Christianity. In addition, he believed that society would enter an Age of Satan, in which a generation living in accordance with LaVeyan principles would come to power. LaVeyan Satanism places great emphasis on the role of liberty and personal freedom. LaVey believed that the ideal Satanist should be individualistic and non-conformist, rejecting what he called the "colorless existence" that mainstream society sought to impose on those living within it. He praised the human ego for encouraging an individual's pride, self-respect, and self-realization and accordingly believed in satisfying the ego's desires. He expressed the view that self-indulgence was a desirable trait, and that hate and aggression were not wrong or undesirable emotions but that they were necessary and advantageous for survival. Accordingly, he praised the Seven Deadly Sins as virtues which were beneficial for the individual. The anthropologist Jean La Fontaine highlighted an article that appeared in a LaVeyan magazine, The Black Flame, in which one writer described "a true Satanic society" as one in which the population consists of "free-spirited, well-armed, fully-conscious, self-disciplined individuals, who will neither need nor tolerate any external entity 'protecting' them or telling them what they can and cannot do." See: the lawless cult and criminal organization of donald trump's MAGA/Christian Identity movement. Anton LaVey supported eugenics and expected it to become a necessity in the future, when it would be used to breed an elite who reflected LaVey's "Satanic" principles. In his view, this elite would be "superior people" who displayed the "Satanic" qualities of creativity and nonconformity. He regarded these traits as capable of hereditary transmission, and made the claim that "Satanists are born, not made". He believed that the elite should be siphoned off from the rest of the human "herd", with the latter being forced into ghettoes, ideally "space ghettoes" located on other planets. (Wikipedia)

Scientific racism misapplies, misconstrues, or distorts anthropology (notably physical anthropology), anthropometry, craniometry, evolutionary biology, and other disciplines or pseudo-disciplines, in proposing anthropological typologies supporting the classification of human populations into physically discrete human races, some of which might be asserted to be superior or inferior to others. Scientific racism was common during the period from the 1600s to the end of World War II, and was particularly prominent in European and American academic writings from the mid 19th century through the early 20th century. Since the second half of the 20th century, scientific racism has been criticized as obsolete and discredited, yet has persistently been used to support or validate racist world-views, based upon belief in the existence and significance of racial categories and a hierarchy of superior and inferior races. The Nazi Party and its sympathizers published many books on scientific racism, seizing on the eugenicist and antisemitic ideas with which they were widely associated, although these ideas had been in circulation since the 19th century. Books such as Rassenkunde des deutschen Volkes ("Racial Science of the German People") by Hans Günther (first published in 1922)and Rasse und Seele ("Race and Soul") by Ludwig Ferdinand Clauß [de] (published under different titles between 1926 and 1934) attempted to scientifically identify differences between the German, Nordic, or Aryan people and other, supposedly inferior, groups. German schools used these books as texts during the Nazi era. In the early 1930s, the Nazis used racialized scientific rhetoric based on social Darwinism[citation needed] to push its restrictive and discriminatory social policies. During World War II, Nazi racialist beliefs became anathema in the United States, and Boasians such as Ruth Benedict consolidated their institutional power. After the war, discovery of the Holocaust and Nazi abuses of scientific research (such as Josef Mengele's ethical violations and other war crimes revealed at the Nuremberg Trials) led most of the scientific community to repudiate scientific support for racism. Although the child was "the most important treasure of the people", this did not apply to all children, even German ones, only to those with no hereditary weaknesses. Nazi Germany's racially based social policies placed the improvement of the Aryan race through eugenics at the center of Nazis ideology. Those humans were targeted who were identified as "life unworthy of life" (German: Lebensunwertes Leben), including but not limited to Jewish people, criminals, degenerate, dissident, feeble-minded, homosexual, idle, insane, and the weak, for elimination from the chain of heredity. Although they were still regarded as "Aryan", Nazi ideology deemed Slavs (i.e., Poles, Russians, Ukrainians, etc.) to be racially inferior to the Germanic master race, suitable for expulsion, enslavement, or even extermination.  Adolf Hitler banned intelligence quotient (IQ) testing for being "Jewish". Beginning with the invasion of Poland during World War II, the Nazi regime set up ghettos across German-occupied Eastern Europe in order to segregate and confine Jews, and sometimes Romani people, into small sections of towns and cities furthering their exploitation. (Wikipedia)

LEGEND: Anton LaVey presented himself as a loving family man.

REALITY: Anton LaVey violently beat his wife Diane throughout their marriage. In 1984 a police report was made describing Diane being strangled into unconsciousness by Anton LaVey, who was in such a murderous rage that his daughter Karla had to pull him off Diane and drag her outside the house to save her life. Anton LaVey routinely physically beat and abused those of his female disciples with whom he had sex, forcing them into prostitution as part of his "Satanic counseling" and collecting their earnings. In 1986 Anton LaVey was a passive witness to the sexual molestation of his own grandson by a longtime friend who was later convicted of sex crimes with minors. In 1990 Anton LaVey informed a mentally-ill stalker of his daughter Zeena of her whereabouts and the time & location of a public appearance she was scheduled to make, deliberately endangering her life.

SOURCES: San Francisco Police records of ASL attack on Diane LaVey, Zeena LaVey, Diane LaVey, Stanton LaVey.

LEGEND: Anton LaVey had a deeply affectionate relationship with Togare, his pet lion.

REALITY: While Anton LaVey was always careful to portray himself to the public as an animal lover, in private he was cruel to and neglectful of his pets. When he was given Togare as a cub in 1964, he was ill-equipped to deal with such an exotic, wild animal despite his pretensions as a circus lion-tamer. As Togare became larger and more unruly, Anton LaVey frequently used an electric cattle prod to hurt and frighten him into submission. Many animal-rights proponents, including Togare's final owner Tippi Hedren, agree that it is detrimental to a wild animal's development to be raised in a domestic environment. Anton LaVey was arrested due to Togare's unruly behavior, and Anton LaVey was ordered to donate him to the San Francisco Zoo. After complying, Anton LaVey made only two visits to Togare. Due to the trauma of his early life, Togare needed special care at the Zoo and at every animal-care facility in which he subsequently lived.

SOURCES: Jack Castor (Lion Keeper, San Francisco Zoo), Diane LaVey, Zeena LaVey, Tippi Hedren (The Cats of Shamballa, McGraw-Hill, 1985).

LEGEND: Anton LaVey had a deeply affectionate relationship with his other pets.

REALITY: In the late 1960s Anton LaVey acquired a Doberman Pinscher (Loki) as an accent to his "sinister" image. Anton LaVey never took the time to housebreak or train Loki, and relegated him to the overgrown and unkempt backyard of the house, regardless of weather. If Loki ever tried to slip into the house for shelter, Anton LaVey routinely used Togare's cattle-prod on him to terrify him back outside. In his old age Loki developed such severe arthritis that he could not climb the stairs to the back door to eat, and began wasting away from malnutrition. Anton LaVey then gave him to one of his prostitute "students", who at least saw that Loki had a warm, inside home until he died a few months later. During her young childhood Anton LaVey's daughter Zeena once awoke late at night to hear slamming sounds and the shrieking of her German Shepherd puppy. Running downstairs, she saw Anton LaVey savagely beating the cowering, cornered dog with a wooden plank. When Zeena begged Anton LaVey to stop and asked him what the dog had done to deserve such treatment, Anton LaVey screamed, "She won't listen to me! I'm going to force her to obey me!" Anton LaVey continued beating the dog until her face was covered with her blood, then dropped the plank and left the dog quivering in the hallway, so injured and frightened that she wouldn't let even Zeena come near her. This incident left the dog traumatized for a long time afterwards.

SOURCES: Diane LaVey, Zeena LaVey.

LEGEND: On Anton LaVey's original death certificate the date of his demise was recorded as October 31, 1997 (Halloween).

REALITY: An official investigation by the City of San Francisco determined that Anton LaVey's actual date of death was October 29, 1997 and that the "Halloween" date had been illegally written on the document.

SOURCES: Death Certificate #380278667, San Francisco Department of Public Health; Dr. Giles Miller (attending physician at Anton LaVey's death), Physician's Amendment to Death Certificate, 11/26/97.

Source: https://thevital.livejournal.com/23483.html

Oh yeah, clearly no one has done more for modern feminism and female empowerment than Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey, right? It's undeniable, unmistakable, and irrefutable, right?

Aleister Crowley lived a completely disempowered, non-magical, non-deity, helpless, powerless, weak, and pathetic hand-to-mouth existence and was dogged by poor health, largely caused by his heroin and cocaine addictions. The fraudulent, uneducated, unsophisticated, uncivilized, unintelligent, and simple-minded freeloader Aleister Crowley believed that in order to discover the True Will, one had to free the desires of the subconscious mind from the control of the conscious mind, especially the restrictions placed on sexual expression, which he associated with the power of divine creation. He identified the True Will of each individual with a "demon infestation" (see: heroin and cocaine addictions and preying upon and defrauding others in order to fund those addictions) unique to each individual. The spiritual quest to find what you are meant to do and do it is also known in Thelema as the Great Work. Crowley believed a "demon infestation" would empower and entitle the "demon infested" individual to "Do what thou wilt" irrespective of any laws or what anyone else thought or felt about it. Crowley believed that for each "demon infested" person, this was defined as a self-proclaimed right and entitlement to: live by one's own law; live in the way that one wills to do; work, play, and rest as one will; die when and how one will; eat and drink what one will; live where one will; move about the earth as one will; think, speak, write, draw, paint, carve, etch, mould, build, and dress as one will; love when, where and with whom one will; and kill those who would thwart these rights irrespective of any laws and/or what anyone thinks or feels about the "demon infested" individual engaging in these indulgent, chaotic, indulgent, uncivilized, and criminal behaviors and actions. Crowley believed that the only real definition of a "Crime" is described as being a violation of one's True Will and that the "demon infested" individual has a divine right and responsibility to the world, humanity, and the Universe to kill those who would thwart a "demon infested" individual's True Will rights. Crowley encouraged religious diversity as long as it only includes wicca, gnosticism, satanism, setianism, luciferianism, alchemy, astrology, qabalah, tantra, tarot divination, yoga, Taoism, Hinduism, Buddhism, and hermetic qabalah. As expected, this is how all of that turned out for him: in need of money, Aleister Crowley launched a series of court cases against people whom he believed to have libelled him. He gained much publicity for his lawsuit against Constable and Co for publishing Nina Hamnett's Laughing Torso (1932)—a book he claimed libelled him by referring to his occult practice as black magic—but lost the case. The court case added to Crowley's financial problems, and in February 1935 he was declared bankrupt. During the hearing, it was revealed that Crowley had been spending three times his income for several years. (Wikipedia)

"I knew how fond Crowley was of pulling the legs of people whom he suspected of being rich and influential. It was a curious kink that he had which had lost him many opportunities and people that would have been useful and friendly to him. It was a kind of schoolboy perversity. A friend of mine introduced him to her and she asked him to her house to lunch to meet some distinguished and rich women who were longing to have their horoscopes read. I was not at the luncheon party, but Crowley, I heard, had a great success and told them all kinds of things about themselves that they were dying to hear. He looked at the Countess and said, " I have met you in another life." She was naturally very intrigued and asked him when and where, and he said that, in fact, he had written a story about her that had been published and that he would send her a copy. This he eventually did and to her horror when she read it, it was a perfectly monstrous story, about a perfectly monstrous and disreputable old woman bearing, of course, no resemblance to her. She was naturally furious and refused to see him again." - Nina Hamnett (Laughing Torso)

On 1 December 1947, the completely impoverished, powerless, helpless, weak, non-magical, and non-deity pathetic loser and fraudulent freeloader, Aleister Crowley, died at Netherwood of chronic bronchitis aggravated by pleurisy and myocardial degeneration, aged 72.His funeral was held at a Brighton crematorium on 5 December; where only about a dozen people attended. (Wikipedia)

Monday, 1 December 1947 = 18th of Kislev, 5708 (the Almighty Abrahamic G-d turns curses into blessings to save and redeem His people) Parashat Vayeshev י״ח בְּכִסְלֵו תש״ח Parashat Vayeshev is the 9th weekly Torah portion in the annual Jewish cycle of Torah reading. Torah Portion: Genesis 37:1-40:23 Vayeshev (“He Settled”) begins the story of Joseph, describing his rivalry with his brothers, slavery in Egypt, and imprisonment after his master’s wife frames him in response to Joseph’s refusal of her advances. It also contains the story of Tamar, her husbands, and her father-in-law, Judah. (HebCal.com)

Boleskine House: New fire rips through Aleister Crowley's former home Published: 31 July 2019 Firefighters have tackled another blaze at the ruined former home of notorious occultist Aleister Crowley. Boleskine House, overlooking Loch Ness, was badly damaged by a blaze in 2015 and the ruin was sold earlier this year. Crowley was said to have performed occultist rituals at the property when he lived there between 1899 and 1913. The B-listed Georgian building was later owned by musician Jimmy Page, of Led Zeppelin. The Scottish Fire and Rescue Service said the alarm was raised shortly before 16:00 on Wednesday and two appliances were sent to the property. Police Scotland said it believed the fire was started deliberately and has appealed for witnesses. The Friends of Boleskine House later posted on Facebook that the coach house had been saved but what was left of the roof of Boleskine House had collapsed. https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-scotland-highlands-islands-49186622

I will give you to G-d (Hebrew), All mankind is with G-d (Yiddish): אַלְ מָנ וּת אֶתְ נָהאֲ בִ י אֵל

491 Strong's Concordance #491 almanuth: widowhood, discarded, forsaken Original Word: אַלְמָנוּת

866 Strong's Concordance #866 ethnah: the wages (of a harlot/prostitute), Athena Original Word: אֶתְנָה

22 Strong's Concordance #22 Abiel: "El/G-d is my Father," from 'ab and 'el; father (i.e. Possessor) of G-d; an Israelite name Original Word: אֲבִיאֵל

Aleister Crowley was even more beastly than we’d imagined. His magick and grandiose, self-awarded titles were a lot of nonsense, but his sexual adventures had a very dark side, Phil Baker reveals From magazine issue: 20 August 2022 I have never had much time for Aleister Crowley. Magic(k) is nonsense; the mystical societies he founded were simply pretexts for him to take as many drugs and have as much sex as he could. And he was a second-rate writer at best. When the novelist Arthur Calder-Marshall said he had gone ‘from Great Beast to Great Bore’, I thought it a fair summing-up. Crowley initiates were some of the dodgiest people in the western world – either frauds or hucksters themselves or the most gullible of fools. In the end I don’t think it matters. There was plenty of this stuff around at the time. W.B. Yeats (who hated Crowley) was mixed up in it too; a hodge-podge of half-baked, pseudo-religious imagery and bad Latin which Crowley used in order to find sexual partners and pay for his drug habit – cocaine and heroin mainly. The fine dining can’t have been cheap either, but to Crowley’s credit he had a knack of being paid for by whoever he was with at the time, when he wasn’t (allegedly) doing a runner from the restaurant itself. It is all fun and games, just about, until we get to page 109 and his encounter with Leah Hirsig (‘Alostrael’). I shall spare you the details of what he got up to, or claimed to have got up to, with her. Suffice it to say that Baker makes this comment: ‘Trying to have sex with a goat (after which Crowley cut its throat) seems innocuous enough’ by comparison. ‘It doesn’t sound either allegorical or pure fantasy,’ he adds, of Crowley’s account. https://www.spectator.co.uk/article/aleister-crowley-was-even-more-beastly-than-we-d-imagined/

Was that Aleister Crowley sexual encounter supposed to be the "Greatest Of All Time" "darkest fantasy" of all modern feminists and empowered girls and women that "liberates them from societal expectations and oppressive patriarchy" by tricking the simple-minded, uneducated, vulnerable, and timid into blackmail traps from the first moment they meet their future blackmailer, slavemaster, and extortionist? And how did Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey use that blackmail and extortion against all girls and women? They "put them "in their place" as sex, breeding, domestic slaves and prostitutes via extreme physical, sexual, mental, and financial abuse that stressed erasing their embrace and usage of the "I" pronoun and sense of self, individual identity, and human and civil rights (see: donald j. trump's and his MAGA cult's anti-female agenda). Wow, that Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey farm animal face, though… I mean, it really does say so much about any and every woman and girl who makes it, doesn't it? Oh, that Age of Horus and devil-infested tongue petting zoo farm animal face that donald trump and all of his fellow incestuous, pedophile, groomer, serial rapist, and habitual offender filth would LOVE for all girls and women to make as they're permanently enslaved to all males, though… Pathetic.

Not the cats!?!?! Fascinated by the O.T.O's emphasis on sex magic, Aleister Crowley devised a magical working based on anal sex and incorporated it into the syllabus for those O.T.O. members who had been initiated into the eleventh degree. Cecil Frederick Russell often argued with Crowley, disliking the same-sex sexual magic that he was required to perform, and left after a year. Arriving in New York City, Crowley moved into a hotel and began earning money writing for the American edition of Vanity Fair and undertaking freelance work for the famed astrologer Evangeline Adams. In the city, he continued experimenting with sex magic, through the use of masturbation, female prostitutes, and male clients of a Turkish bathhouse; all of these encounters were documented in his diaries. Crowley offered a libertine education for children, allowing them to play all day and witness acts of sex magic. He occasionally travelled to Palermo to visit, rent boys, and buy supplies, including drugs; his heroin addiction came to dominate his life, and cocaine began to erode his nasal cavity. A young Thelemite named Raoul Loveday moved to Crowley's Abbey with his wife Betty May; while Loveday was devoted to Crowley, May detested Crowley and life at the commune. She later said that her husband Loveday was made to drink the blood of a sacrificed cat, and that they were required to cut themselves with razors every time they used the pronoun "I" (indicating that they still considered themselves to be human beings, not farm animals, worthy of being treated as human beings, and connected to human society with human laws that applied to Crowley). Raoul Loveday drank from a local polluted stream, soon developing a liver infection resulting in his death in February 1923. In August 1931, Crowley took Bertha Busch as his new lover; they had a violent relationship, and often physically assaulted one another until Crowley left her and returned to London. (Wikipedia)

Are goats the smartest animal? While goats have proven that they are by no means duds in the smarts department, they probably won't be outwitting dolphins, elephants, chimps or other exceedingly brainy furry or feathered competitors anytime soon. (SmithsonianMag.com)

Are goats or pigs smarter? Now we come to the smartest of all farm animals, and that highest honor is reserved for the pig. (Grit.com)

Pigs are gentle creatures with surprising intelligence. Studies have found they're smarter than dogs and even 3-year-old children! In the wild, pigs form small groups that typically include a few sows and their piglets. (HumaneSociety.org)

Everyone who's ever witnessed Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey-level domestic violence and abuse against women and girls knows exactly how, why, and how often they call women and girls pigs. Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey took it even lower than most abusive misogynist trash by manipulating women and girls into calling themselves inferior to pigs in every way while expecting, wanting, needing, and demanding to be treated as such via the Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey farm animal face expression. Pig (slang): If you call someone a pig, you think that they are unpleasant in some way, especially that they are greedy or unkind. (Collins Dictionary) Pig (slang): A dirty, gluttonous, or repulsive person. (Merriam-Webster) Pig (slang): An unattractive, unappealing, immoral and shameless woman. (Merriam-Webster)

Fraudulent freeloaders seem to find it easy to make excuses and dismiss any criticism of Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey because they died as they lived: a couple of completely non-magical, non-deity, helpless, powerless, worthless clowns, pathetic losers, and fraudulent freeloaders who contributed nothing of value to the human race. But when you evaluate them through a modern lens and overlay their lives, worldviews, and complete self-implosions over the lives of people you do know, well, suddenly there's no dismissing and excusing how pathetic and worthless their "contributions" to the human race actually were, and are to this day, and why everyone who embraces those worldviews always implodes in the(ir) end.

And since Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey pushed the idea(s) that the "Age of Horus" would usher in the "Age of Ma'at," here's even more proof of how pathetic, uneducated, unintelligent, and unsophisticated those two pathetic, non-magical, non-deity, fraudulent freeloaders and sexual predators, domestic abusers, child abusers, and animal abusers actually were: The 42 Laws Of Ma'at are sometimes referred to as "The Negative Confessions" or "The Declaration Of Innocence." I have not committed sin. I have not committed robbery with violence. I have not stolen. I have not slain men or women. I have not stolen food. I have not swindled offerings. I have not stolen from God/Goddess. I have not told lies. I have not carried away food. I have not cursed. I have not closed my ears to truth. I have not committed adultery. I have not made anyone cry. I have not felt sorrow without reason. I have not assaulted anyone. I am not deceitful. I have not stolen anyone’s land. I have not been an eavesdropper. I have not falsely accused anyone. I have not been angry without reason. I have not seduced anyone’s wife. I have not polluted myself. I have not terrorized anyone. I have not disobeyed the Law. I have not been exclusively angry. I have not cursed God/Goddess. I have not behaved with violence. I have not caused disruption of peace. I have not acted hastily or without thought. I have not overstepped my boundaries of concern. I have not exaggerated my words when speaking. I have not worked evil. I have not used evil thoughts, words or deeds. I have not polluted the water. I have not spoken angrily or arrogantly. I have not cursed anyone in thought, word or deeds. I have not placed myself on a pedestal. I have not stolen what belongs to God/Goddess. I have not stolen from or disrespected the deceased. I have not taken food from a child. I have not acted with insolence. I have not destroyed property belonging to God/Goddess. https://dailydish.co.uk/the-42-laws-of-maat/

Without exceptions, every last person on earth who embraces, embodies, promotes, and glorifies the pathetic, worthless, fraudulent, unsophisticated, weak, powerless, delusional, and abusive trash that Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey peddled has absolutely nothing to do with anything real, authentic, or empowering; and is, instead, completely detached from reality, facts, truth, sophistication, civility, and true and lasting spiritual, intellectual, emotional, physical, and material empowerment. Aleister Crowley, Anton LaVey and donald j. trump were/are obviously and undeniably the absolute antithesis of the 42 Laws of Ma'at, so no one other than the uneducated, unintelligent, unsophisticated, uncivilized, simple-minded, weak-willed, lazy, and cowardly would ever believe, for more than the literally few minutes it takes to fact-check their con-artist filth, that those three worthless, powerless, and helpless pieces of dung could/would say or do anything to empower anyone other than themselves.

No educated, intelligent, sophisticated, and civilized person on earth should be supporting, enabling, promoting, glorifying, or fundraising for donald j. trump or any of his anti-female, anti-human, anti-humanitarian, anti-American, anti-education, anti-civility, anti-integrity, anti-peace, and anti-prosperity MAGA Nazi cult members, followers, and allies in any way, ever.

For every action, there's always an equal and opposite reaction. Those who embrace, promote, and glorify the Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey agenda(s) of destroying all true knowledge of the Abrahamic G-d and Abrahamic scriptures of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity are so unintelligent, uneducated, unsophisticated, feeble-minded, simple-minded, cowardly, and weak that they can't even understand any of the concepts and ideas of reciprocity, or "Karma," math, science, language arts, literature, politics, or history. The Abrahamic scriptures of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity advise that such people have always existed, always will, and should be expected to live alongside the peoples of the Abrahamic faiths. No one who has ever been so stupid as to attempt to destroy and erase the Almighty Abrahamic G-d, the Abrahamic scriptures, and the Abrahamic peoples has turned out any better than Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey at the ends of their pathetic, powerless, and completely worthless lives. Dumb Chump Diarrhea Dentures donald j. trump clearly won't be the exception, either.

Strong's Concordance #52 Abishay: from 'ab and shay; father of a gift (i.e. Probably generous) My Father is The Giver; "my father is Jesse," an Israelite name Original Word: אֲבִישַׁי

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English): Pages 870 and 871: Isaiah 11:1 But a shoot shall grow out of the stump of Jesse, A twig shall sprout from his stock. Isaiah 11:2 The spirit of the Lord shall alight upon him: A spirit of wisdom and insight, A spirit of counsel and valor, A spirit of devotion and reverence for the Lord. Isaiah 11:3 He shall sense the truth by his reverence for the Lord; He shall not judge by what his eyes behold, Nor decide by what his ears perceive. Isaiah 11:4 Thus he shall judge the poor with equity And decide with justice for the lowly of the land. He shall strike down a land with the rod of his mouth And slay the wicked with the breath of his lips. Isaiah 11:5 Justice shall be the girdle of his loins, And faithfulness the girdle of his waist. Isaiah 11:6 The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, The leopard lie down with the kid; the calf, the beast of prey, and the fatling together, With a little boy to herd them. Isaiah 11:7 The cow and the bear shall graze, Their young shall lie down together; And the lion, like the ox, shall eat straw. Isaiah 11:8 A babe shall play Over a viper's hole, And an infant shall pass his hand Over an adder's den. Isaiah 11:9 In all of My sacred mount Nothing evil or vile shall be done; For the land shall be filled with devotion to the Lord As water covers the sea. Isaiah 11:10 In that day, The stock of Jesse that has remained standing Shall become a standard to peoples--Nations shall seek his counsel And his abode shall be honored.

#holy bible #tanakh #christianity #judaism #christian faith #jesus christ #bible study #bible scripture #bible verse #christian living #christian life #messiah #antichrist #donald trump #trump 2024 #gop #republicans #evangelicals #aleister crowley #anton lavey #Youtube

[christian-perspectives]

Why Question God, He Is The Lord

Isaiah 45 begins with this statement. This is what the Lord says to Cyrus, his anointed one. A person might be tempted to question God because He anointed this ungodly king. How terrible it would be if a newborn baby said to its father, ‘Why was I born?’ or if it said to its mother, ‘Why did you make me this way?’”  . . . “Do you question what I do for my children?    Isaiah 45:10, 11 Sometimes we know God’s reasons for His actions. Other times He chooses not to reveal them to us. As far as God anointing Cyrus is concerned, here’s what Isaiah told us. - God empowered Cyrus and granted him authority over other kings. v.1 - Cyrus would find treasures hidden in the darkness—secret riches.v.3 - God revealed Himself to Cyrus so he would know who the Lord was. v. 3 - God anointed and revealed to Cyrus His purpose. v.4 And why have I called you for this work? Why did I call you by name when you did not know me? It is for the sake of Jacob my servant, Israel my chosen one. Isaiah 45:4

God Trusted Cyrus

God trusted Cyrus to complete the work He needed done. Then the Lord declared His authority and He equipped this anointed king for the task at hand. I am the Lord; there is no other God. I have equipped you for battle, though you don’t even know me, so all the world from east to west will know there is no other God. Isaiah 45:5-6

As God declared Himself again, He sent a reminder of some of His creation and abilities. I am the Lord, and there is no other. I create the light and make the darkness. And I send good times and bad times. I, the Lord, am the one who does these things. Isaiah 45:6-7 So because of God’s anointing, Cyrus this ungodly king enjoyed fame, wealth, and victory. Actions that brought the created to argue and question God, the creator. What sorrow awaits those who argue with their Creator. Does a clay pot argue with its maker? Does the clay dispute with the one who shapes it, saying, ‘Stop, you’re doing it wrong!’ Does the pot exclaim, ‘How clumsy can you be?’ Isaiah 45:9 When the religious leaders questioned Jesus, He usually answered with questions. If we decide to question God, we should expect the same response. This is what the Lord says— the Holy One of Israel and your Creator: “Do you question what I do for my children? Do you give me orders about the work of my hands? Isaiah 45:11

When You Decide to Question God

So, when you get a hankering to question God, don’t! His superiority far exceeds our understanding as seen in the next verse. I am the one who made the earth and created people to live on it. With my hands I stretched out the heavens. All the stars are at my command. Isaiah 45:12 God without question will use anyone He chooses because His knowledge goes deep within our hearts. And, it really doesn’t matter to God how we feel about His choices. You see when the Lord chose Cyrus, it had nothing to do with the king. But it had everything to do with God’s people. I will raise up Cyrus to fulfill my righteous purpose, and I will guide his actions. He will restore my city and free my captive people—without seeking a reward! I, the Lord of Heaven’s Armies, have spoken!” Isaiah 45:13 Take the time to read all of Isaiah 45.

A Prayer from King David

Are you ready for God to choose you to fulfill one of His purposes? Are concerned about what God will see deep in your heart? If so, then pray this prayer that David prayed. Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a loyal spirit within me. Do not banish me from your presence, and don’t take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and make me willing to obey you. Psalm 51:10-12 Check out this related post called Do You Question the Commands of God? Read the full article

#BibleStudy #Devotions #Evangelism #Isaiah

[morizoras-cave]

Drink (Request)

Ryan Reynolds x teen!daughter!reader

Genre: angst, fluffy ending

Request Description: Could you maybe do a Ryan Reynolds x teen!reader where the reader maybe goes to a party and something gets slipped into her drink but she calls Ryan and says she doesn’t feel well and he gets her and looks after her? Only if this is okay for you to write and you feel comfortable doing it. I love you work so much🥺 Thank you!🤍

Warnings: attempted rape, drugging, language

(A/N): this is my first ryan reynolds post. v excited. reading this back, i realized that this could be taken as victim blaming. the beginning part where ryan is talking about how his daughter “shouldn’t wear that dress out” was more of a “awww look hes a protective and good dad”. i dont believe in victim blaming at all. (off topic here) also i wrote the last part of this drunk af. anyway i hope y’all still enjoy. now smell you later losers!! break begun!

“Y/n, you are not going to a party in that outfit!”

You glared at your dad, who was both shaking his head and wagging his finger in disapproval. 

“What’s so wrong with this dress?” you protested, crossing your arms. 

“The boys and the girls will be after you in seconds! I will not have some sweaty teen thinking something nasty about my daughter!” his voice was high (as always), as he squealed his argument. You rolled your eyes. 

Your mom walked into the room to grab something from the fridge, but stopped and looked at you. “Nice dress, N/n, you going to a party?” 

“Don’t encourage this!” Ryan hissed and you smiled scornfully. Blake’s laughter came throughout the room and she stopped beside you with her glass of milk in her hand. 

“Calm down, Ryan. She’s growing up!” 

“Nuh uh!” your dad looked away, still unsatisfied. You couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Y/n, just go to your party. I’ll deal with the grump lord,” your mom pushed you towards the entrance. Ryan’s face twisted into that of someone betrayed by his closest. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Grump lord? I have a code name? In my own house?” 

You skipped to the entrance room, sliding on your jacket and your shoes, smiling playfully. “Wait!” your dad yelled and footsteps nearing you, as he jogged to the entrance. You looked at him. 

“Just.. Call me if you’re in trouble. Anything at all,” he knew he was defeated. Although, you loved basking in the glory of victory, you couldn’t help but smile at your dad’s kind words.

“I will,” you promised.

The party was loud and booming. Every inch of the house was hot (in an uncomfortable way) and crowded, teenagers rubbing against each other and dancing. You found yourself with your friends in the living room, dancing to the sound of a Nicki Minaj song. 

“I’m gonna go get a drink!” you yelled over the music. Your friends, extremely intoxicated and doing ‘the stanky leg’, gave you a mindless thumbs up, and continued to dance. You giggle was drowned out in the music. 

You squeezed your way past different people, finally making it to the table with all the liquor. The boy who was hosting had miraculously bought enough for there to just be an all-you-can-drink table. 

The unnerving feeling of someone watching you became immediately clear. You looked around, finding the person fairly quickly. It was a boy, maybe a couple of years older than you, with a drunken gaze and tousled hair. He was smirking at you. You rolled your eyes and poured yourself a gin and tonic. 

The moment the drink was finished, someone poked your shoulder. You looked up. It wasn’t the same boy as before. This one was bigger and broader. He had the same knowing smirk on his face. You felt unnerved.

“Hey. Is this your friend over here? They look pretty smashed, you might want to check on them,” he pointed to somewhere behind him, taking all your attention from your drink to your idiot friends. You told them not to drink too much.

“Can you show me where they are?” you mumbled and the boy nodded, pulling you away from your drink. He led you to somewhere entirely different in the house, where a girl you’d never seen in your life was doubled over, puking on the poor host’s carpet. 

“I don’t know this girl,” you explained and the boy’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape. He sighed and then shrugged.

“Sorry, I thought I saw you talking earlier. Sorry to bother you,” then he walked off. You shook your head at the weird incident and walked back to you drink. You started gulping it down hungrily, deciding you were definitely too sober to be at this party.

 Almost immediately, you started feeling extremely drunk. Extremely. Which was weird, you thought, but it was hard to concentrate on it, when the environment was so loud and your thoughts were so blurry. 

Then, slowly, you realised that you didn’t usually feel like this when you were drunk. You tried to rationalise it. Maybe you just put too much gin in your drink? Maybe you had forgotten that you’d drunk something? Whatever the case, you started feeling weird. 

Everything was spinning. You wouldn’t have been able to find your friends if you wanted to. Then, in your chaotic state, your eyes passed someone else’s eyes, and you recognised them. It was the boy from earlier, the broad one, smirking at you. This time, his smirk felt alarming. Chilling. 

That moment was when the penny dropped. Your head snapped to the other boy, the one who’d just watched you. He gave you a grin. 

You were shaking, blinking away tears. You realised the position you were in. You were prey. And you were vulnerable. You took a few shaky steps, trying to make it seem like you hadn’t just realised you’d been roofied. 

When your back was turned to them, and you were stood behind a wall of dancing bodies, you pulled out your phone from your bag. You couldn’t tell if it was your vision, or if your hands were shaking, but everything was buzzing, unable to keep still. 

Your finger hovered over his number. What if you weren’t roofied? What if you were just drunk and silly? How embarrassing would that be? You felt tears prick your eyes. 

His voice echoed in your head. “Call me if you’re in trouble. Anything at all.”

You pressed down on his number, bringing the phone to your ear. You could hardly form a sentence. Everything was moving and it was so loud. 

“Hello?” Your dad’s voice was like cutting open this hellspace to some sort of heaven. It felt safe. You closed your eyes, a tear running down your face. 

“Hi, dad,” you had to yell, “can you- can you come pick me up?” 

There was a moment of silence from the phone, before he said: “Sure, why? You’re at Erik’s house, right?” 

“Yeah, Erik’s house. Let’s talk about this later!” then you hung up. It almost felt like your heart was shaking in your chest. It was too much, all of it. You could hardly walk, but you took a step towards the door, then several more. 

You feverishly grabbed the door handle, trying desperately to open the door, but you weren’t strong enough. It was a chilling realisation, that you weren’t even strong enough to open a door. 

“Do you need a help?” 

You jumped and shrieked, but it was drowned out by the music. No one noticed. You looked up and you had to stand there for a moment, before you realised that it wasn’t any of the boys you’d seen before. 

This boy looked concerned. You couldn’t even process how you must look, tear-streaked face, ruined makeup, shaking and helplessly grasping a door. You didn’t care. 

“Here,” he mumbled and opened the door for you. You whispered a ‘thank you’, and wobbled out on the street. You heard the boy leave, but you kept standing there, waiting uncomfortably for your dad to show up. 

Eventually, you saw his car pulling up in the distance. You breathed out in relief and dashed to his car, opening the door and sitting down beside you dad. He was looking at you, brows furrowed in concern. 

It was a scary thing. He was always afraid of seeing you like that. Seeing you scared and drunk and desperate. As you sat down his hand grasped yours. 

“Are you okay, Y/n? What happened?” 

You shook your head. You felt so unfocused. It was impossible to understand everything that was going on. You missed being sober. “My- My drink,” you mumbled senselessly, unable to speak normally. 

“What about your drink?” Ryan pressed, squeezing your hand. You were his child. He loved you. He was worried. Beyond belief.

“I-I think someone.. I think someone put something in it..” you mumbled, head swinging. You were far from the normal you. Everything was swinging right by you. 

“You think someone..?” Ryan trailed off. You saw his knuckles turn white as he grasped the steering wheel angrily. “Did they- Did they touch you?”

You shook your head. You saw your dad breathe out in relief, his hand never leaving yours. 

“Alright, I’ll just drive you home. It’ll be fine,” he mumbled (mostly to himself) as he started the car and drove away from the booming, partying house. “It’ll be just fine, N/n.”

He kept mumbling to himself, but you fell asleep in the car. Eventually everything was too much for you, so you just decided to close your eyes. It was a good decision. Sleep was so peaceful. 

Ryan drove you home, carrying you into their house and into your room. “What’s wrong with her?” Blake would yell, confused and scared, but Ryan would just focus on getting you to bed. 

“She was roofied. Someone put something in her fucking drink! She could’ve been- She could’ve been fucking raped!” he ranted to his wife, whilst you slept peacefully in the other room. 

Needless to say both your mom and your dad were much more overprotective after that, both with parties and with boys. But it was okay. You woke up safe and sound, and you were happy your dad had gotten you before something awful happened.

Honestly, you didn’t oppose their overprotectiveness, because after that night you felt like you needed it. No matter what way you twisted it, that night fucked you up. You weren’t as reckless or careless after that. And you got help from a professional, but still. It was an awfully traumatising experience. 

You were just happy your dad had been with you that night. And that he cared for you. Of course, he would. He was your dad. He loved you more than anything else in the world. You had no reason to worry, not when you had your dad by your side. 

___________________________

Tag List:

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#ryan reynolds x reader #ryan reynolds x daughter!reader #ryan reynolds x teen!reader #deadpool x reader #deadpool cast x reader #marvel cast x reader #mcu cast x reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers cast x teen!reader

[anakinisvaderisanakin]

Introductions (AU; the government are introduced to the Emperor’s right hand man)

Emperor Palpatine sat at the helm of the table, his expensive ornate satin cloak pulled up to cover his deformed features. He had made a rare exception to the never appearing in public rule, if only to summon his little group of closely affiliated followers for a less than chummy supper. The Coruscant sun had already begun to set, its pinkish rays disappearing behind the skyscrapers visible from the large single viewport of the Emperor’s dining hall. Two months had passed since the fall of the Republic. Two months since the war came to an end, two months since the Jedi were declared traitors and executed en masse. Two months since Palpatine declared himself dictator, since his regulations had begun being pushed onto all known systems. Two months, and Governor Tarkin had thought himself to be lucky with his role.

A few faces, he recognized. Former admiral Wullf Yularen was a welcome addition despite being a bit below the required rank, fighting the just fight against outliers and naysayers. Orn Free Taa was a more unfortunate case (he had likely invited himself by flattery and empty promises), while Vizier Mas Amedda was an obvious presence. Sate Pestage, Janus Greejatus, Ars Dangor, Kren Blista-Vanee and Verge’s smug faces had Tarkin fighting the urge to roll his eyes at their insipid subservience. Artist Eveli Charis was, Tarkin figured, the most surprising member of the meeting - serving as the only female face of the small crowd. Her aside, and finance minister Gagh rounded off the gathering. 

These people were - each in different ways - the most influential people of the new Empire.

“I have not gathered you simply for the sake of sharing a dinner in the wake of our victory. Indeed, I have been wishing to relay to you my plans for the grand future of our Galaxy,” said Palpatine suddenly, his voice gravelly and his gnarly hands reminiscent of claws where they rested against the table cloth.

Tarkin thought he could see a pair of golden eyes gleaming beneath the shrouded darkness of Palpatine’s hood, but chalked it up to a trick of the light. Instead, he focused on the hand stitched embroidery of the Emperor’s burgundy robes. The man had always had an affinity for fancy dress.

“It is clear that you shall provide eyes and ears for me, and I trust you to fulfill your duties towards the Empire, and subsequently to me. However, I’m afraid I must offer you a small surprise.”

“Another, Your Highness?” Tarkin said with an amused smile, and he couldn’t help but feel triumphant when Palpatine let out a pleased cackle in response.

“I’m afraid so, Governor. Surely, you shall all take this little revelation in stride. Are we not in dire need of powerful allies?” he responded, gesturing with one clawed hand towards the Vizier who stood poised by the doorway.

On each side of the hydraulic sliding doors themselves, a royal guard clad in crimson stood at a patient salute. The Emperor’s personal bodyguards, their faces cloaked and hidden from view much like Palpatine himself. Their presence was an odd mixture of reassuring and oppressive, Tarkin had decided. But he saw no reason to fear them, given his own standing with the Emperor. If anything, he benefited from their presence as protectors.

“Will you reveal to us this secret, Your Highness?” asked Charis, her expression curious and incredulous at once.

“My child, have you not been taught the virtue of patience?” was Palpatine’s response; a thinly veiled insult that put her in her place, as she shrank back in shame and lowered her head in an obedient bow.

“Forgive me my insolence, Your Highness,” she offered, apologetic and the Emperor simply shrugged her words off.

“Think nothing of it. You are correct, it appears to me that I have unfairly omitted mentioning this to either of you. Alas, it is time I remedy this arrogance.”

Tarkin noted how the Emperor turned his head briefly, giving the Vizier a barely perceptible nod and the man stepped back. On cue, the guards uncrossed their electro-staffs and parted to the sides. Confusion seemed to overtake most of the party’s faces, as the doorway slid open with ease - only to reveal a man. Clad in black armour with red and silver accents; broad shouldered, tall and visibly disdainful towards his company. He stalked wordlessly up to Palpatine’s right hand side, where he lingered - gloved hands folded in front of his hips, legs wide apart. His eyes were glowing, an amber shade to their irises, a bloodshot sclera. The man’s face was scarred, rugged; and the only visible emotions seemed to be anger and resentment. One single dark blonde curl fell over his creased forehead.

But that wasn’t the oddity. Someone in the company - Tarkin suspected it to be Yularen, judging by the tone - gasped.

Indeed, it was difficult not to recognize the young man by the Emperor's side - the Emperor, whose features had twisted into a toothy grin. The man said nothing, taller than Tarkin remembered him. Something warped and cruel and twisted distorting his rather handsome features into something unrecognizable, all charm vanquished. He was pale, peering in distaste down at the dining party as if they were beneath him. It didn’t sit right with Tarkin, given that they all knew who he was and what his past profession up until about two months ago would have been.

Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker had joined them for supper.

“May I introduce to you Lord Vader,” said Palpatine, breaking the eerie silence. “Some of you may believe you are familiar with this man. I assure you, you are mistaken. The man whom you may recall is long gone. Lord Vader has seen the error of his ways, and accepted the Jedi traitors for what they are. He came to my aid during the assassination attempt ordered by master Windu.”

Tarkin listened closely, but he was not the only one who seemed unable to tear his gaze from Skywalk-- Vader’s stern features. He looked so much older than his age, as if he had seen a million lifetimes of suffering pass him by. His hollow eyes seemed haunted, but their inherent glow was more reminiscent of a predator locked in a cage. Simply biding his time, waiting for the opportune moment to pounce. Still, he made no move and did not utter a single word.

“Lord Vader has turned out to be, much like you, one of my most trusted advisors. He is my right hand man, and while I have neglected to provide him with an official rank - he outranks every single one of you. It is my belief that only he has the means to do what needs to be done,” the Emperor continued.

Yularen seemed to shift uneasily in his seat, his eyes wide and a blunt disbelief etched into his aging features.

“You wish to speak, Colonel?”

Tarkin heard himself say; wondering if they were the only ones present - apart from the Emperor himself - who had maintained some sort of personal relationship to the man Palpatine had renamed and retooled so viciously.

“No, Governor. I--” he began, but was immediately cut off by Palpatine.

“You are wondering how the man you knew as a Jedi could turn on his own kind, is that not so? You are surprised to see that his loyalty towards the Empire could outweigh his loyalty towards his kin. Am I correct, Colonel?”

Yularen seemed to pause a bit longer than required, but gave a curt nod as he found the voice to speak up.

“Yes, Your Highness. I am merely… surprised, as you put it,” he said as a manner of surrender.

“It is understandable that you would be shocked. Should you like to speak of your own decision, Lord Vader?” the Emperor drawled, his voice menacing and sing-songy at once as he gestured to offer Vader the opportunity to speak.

“No,” the young man simply said, standing so still that his lips barely even seemed to be moving; his gleaming eyes scanning each and every person present before it landed on Tarkin - the only man who’s amusement outweighed the concerns. “I believe my actions will speak for themselves, as will your evident trust in me, my master.”

The voice was a bit deeper and gruffer than Tarkin recalled it - but that could be maturity - but its monotone quality was new. Vader spoke as if the words held no meaning to him, as if whatever he said was pointless and a waste of breath. As if his words were unbefitting of anyone but the Emperor. Yet, at the same time, he was matter of fact and to the point. A quality Tarkin had enjoyed in the past, and one he presumed Yularen had as well.

“Oh, I implore you to amuse this unspoken inquiry, Lord Vader,” Palpatine pressed, and as much as it came off as if being in good faith, it was an obvious demand no loyal servant could ignore.

“As you wish, my master,” Vader simply obeyed, his burning eyes still holding Tarkin’s in a cold, disgruntled stare. “I was the single man to commandeer the troops as they marched on the Jedi temple. I surveyed the situation, and I made sure not a single soul present escaped their fate. I am prepared to do whatever it takes to serve my Emperor, and I will not be frowned upon by the likes of you.”

The last word was delivered with such pure, unbridled loathing that it seemed to lower the temperature of the room by several degrees by proxy of mere intent. Vader nonchalantly folded his arms over his chest, lips drawn into a thin line and the perpetual scowl of his forehead had already begun to carve out fine lines in their wake. Palpatine was still sneering, grimy teeth bared in a ferocious grin.

“As you can see, Lord Vader’s conviction is admirable and undeniable. He has proved himself worthy of my trust, and so, I expect you to follow my example accordingly. I expect you to show him the reverence he requires,” the Emperor concluded, that odd glow to Vader’s eyes mirrored by his as he briefly peered up from beneath his hood - this time, it could be no trick of the light.

“I trust your infallible judgment, Your Highness,” Tarkin finally said, being the first to accept the new norm. “I may not be completely assured of Lord Vader’s motives as of yet, but he shall gain my respect when he has proved himself worthy of it.”

“My friend, you need not fear. However, I understand your concerns, and I have no doubt that you will come around quite soon,” said Palpatine, and while there was malice to the tone, he was also unusually honest and benevolent.

Tarkin suspected that was entirely on him, and their long history as colleagues and friends. He nodded, glancing over at Vader whose eyes regarded him still. Their gaze was arduous, and heavy, and vile - but that seemed to be their natural state, rather than any personal vendetta.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” was Tarkin’s only reply, and he shot a defiant glare back at Vader. “You are much too gracious.”

“Will you cease your repulsive display?” Vader snapped, and while Tarkin at first almost expected Palpatine to defend him; he found that the Emperor seemed humored enough by the obvious insult to allow the man to finish his trail of thought. “The Emperor will offer you no favours based on your fawning. You embarrass yourself, Governor.”

“Now, now, Lord Vader. I believe such childish bickering belongs elsewhere,” he finally shushed, as Vader relented like an obedient school boy fearing punishment. “However, I must agree. It would serve you well to evolve your attempts at flattery into a less… tacky matter.”

That triggered a reaction from Vader, as one corner of his lips twitched briefly upwards in a mocking, superior half smirk. He said nothing, but the triumph in those golden eyes spoke for itself.

“Now, with this out of the way, I wish to return to the matters at hand - but there is one more thing I wish to clarify. Lord Vader will not tolerate any mentions of the man you might recall him to be. He is no longer the naive child of yesterday. There will be a penalty for such insolence - no matter whom it may derive from. Lord Vader is a reinvented man. You shall address him only as such, and by no other name. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” was the singular response - and a brief hint of delight, and perhaps relief, crossed Vader’s scornful face.

“Very good,” said the Emperor with a cackle.

__________

I am not generally a fan of suitless Vader, but this idea came to me and it kinda required that so I went with it for once. Enjoy!

Ao3 link below:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029582

#darth vader #anakin skywalker #darth sidious #emperor palpatine #sheev palpatine #grand moff tarkin #wilhuff tarkin #star wars #au #suitless vader #the empire #wullf yularen #post order 66 #post rots #pt #prequel era #the bad batch era #empire era #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #fic #fics #my stuff #vader #lord vader #anakin #skywalker #skyguy

[bbrandy2002]

Happy Birthday Burnsy!

The Country AU -- I'm Gonna Live Where The Green Grass Grows

Pairing: Drake x Alyssa, Liam x Riley, and a whole host of other TRR characters.

A/N: This was a silly little idea I had months ago for an AU built around the places and people where I grew up. I never had plans to actually write it, but I mentioned it to Burns, and well ... she wanted it lol so here we are. And she’s already read half of this and is the one who made the mood board for it and the song inspo hahaha. Thank you to @mskaneko for the edits of our OTP’s, and @charlotteg234 for pre-reading the first half of this.

Trigger warning: Gun usage, hunting, mild language ... I think that’s it

@burnsoslow

My dearest friend, when I think back at where we were one year ago, I can’t help but be reminded of the vastly different world we live in now. On February 5, 2020, there was no covid keeping us sheltered and fearful, families were complete, jobs were stable, and so many of the things we worried about then simply pale in comparison to now, Life wasn’t so bad. But here we are with all these new changes and mindsets. Through it all, one thing remained consistent: YOU. You have been my strength, my rock, the anchor that grounded me. We have cried together, laughed a lot together, worried for each other, and celebrated those small victories that were important to each other. And I get so happy when someone comments about how much they love the friendship between Riley and Alyssa because it's the most real part of Fearless. If anyone ever wanted to know what we’re like, it's all written out in that story. I’ve got your back, and you have mine. You’re my best friend and I just love the hell out of ya! I hope your birthday is amazing and that this fic is everything you wanted for this AU.

------------------------------------

On Sunday mornings in southern Georgia, you did one of two things: You woke up early for church services or woke up late to watch NFL football.

Some people figured out a long time ago how to do both.

Sitting in the back pew of the First Cordonian Church of Everlasting Peace, Alyssa Walker sat quietly with the sweetest southern belle smile, nodding her head along to the beautiful words spoken during Pastor Hakim’s sermon and hiding a pair of earbuds lodged in each ear. 

She and her husband, Drake, had laid claim to the pew when they were teens trying to sneak a kiss or two during prayers. After ten years of marriage, they no longer needed to sneak kisses but stayed in that same seat, believing the biggest sinners should stay as far away from the minister as possible. Why be the barrier that may prevent the spirit from reaching the rest of the congregation? The couple felt it was the least they could do.

They were actually pretty good folks and well respected in their community. Alyssa had taught first grade for eight years at the local elementary school, where her two children, nine-year-old Audrey and six-year-old Patrick, also attended. Her best friend since third grade, Riley, was the art teacher there. 

Drake worked nearby as the lead mechanic at Rys and Sons Chevrolet out on North Ramsford Avenue. Constantine had owned the auto dealership for 35 years before passing it down to his sons, Leo and Liam, when he ran for and became the town's mayor. Leo peaced out, heading to South Florida, while Liam took on the sole responsibility of ownership himself. 

And while most people in this sleepy little town of Cordonia were Falcons fanatics, Alyssa grew up rooting for the team where her parents were born and raised before settling in Georgia as newlywed lawyers: The Chicago Bears.

With the game against the Packers blaring into her ear, she kept a keen eye on the rest of her fellow parishioners. When they clapped, she clapped. When they sang, she sang. She raised her hands in hallelujahs when they did. She had learned to read lips and could “Amen” and “Praise God” right on cue with the rest of them. All the while, she sat in contentment, listening to her weekly football games. 

“The score with 14 seconds left in the second quarter is Chicago -- 14, Green Bay -- 17. The Bears have the ball on the 5-yard line. It’s third and goal. If Trubisky can score here, they’ll go into the locker room at halftime with a lead for the first time in this game, or possibly tie it all up with a field goal after this down. This is a huge, HUGE play, Jim ...” 

Alyssa twined her fingers together and lowered her forehead onto them as she waited with bated breath for the announcer to call the play-by-play. As far as anyone else knew, she was praying fervently for the Hebrews crossing the parted Red Sea away from Pharoah's army that the pastor was chronicling.

“And here comes the snap. Trubisky backs up. He tosses to Robinson in the end zone. OHHH! So close… batted away by Alexender …”

“JESUS!” Alyssa yelled out in anger. With earbuds in, she didn’t realize how loudly that just came out of her mouth. Drake nudged her in the thigh. She glanced over at him for a second before he nodded to the 123 pairs of eyes that had all turned at once in her direction. It instantly dawned on her that everyone in the congregation heard the outburst.

Feeling the color drain from her face, Alyssa placed a hand over her chest and addressed, “I am soooo into this sermon, Hakim. Woohoo! Go, Jesus, go!” She pumped her fist in the air like she was rooting him on.

Drake dropped his face onto Patrick’s shoulder, who was sitting on his lap, to cover the incessant laughter that threatened to spill out of him. He was doing a terrible job of it, as a momentary burst of muffled snickers could be heard through the sound of the game playing in Alyssa’s ear. Her husband was nothing but a big kid himself -- she wouldn’t change that for anything.

“Mommy,” Audrey whispered next to her. “It’s about Moses. Not Jesus.”

Alyssa smiled, patting her daughter’s knee. “Same thing, baby. They both performed miracles.” She cut her eyes to the phone hidden under the cardigan draped across her thighs. “And the Bears need a miracle right now, guys,” she muttered, “Part those shithead Packer’s defensive line, Lord. It’s time to help my Bears get to the promised land.”

“Going for it on fourth down, Trubisky drops back. The Packer defense is putting a lot of pressure on the Bear’s offensive line. Every man is covered in the end zone. He has no one to throw to, Jim. They’re running out of time. Four seconds left. And, NOOO, they sack Trubisky on the 10-yard line … WAIT THE BALL IS LOOSE … THE BALL IS LOOSE ... he fumbled the ball. The Packers are scrambling to get it. There are green and white jerseys all over that ball. BUT LOOK … Green Bay’s Klark picks it up. He’s running the other way … and he just slipped … he just slipped, and the football fell right into the hands of Chicago’s Robinson --”  

Alyssa grabbed Drake’s thigh, her fingers digging deeply with hope and panic. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” her stressed words weren’t audible to the crowd, but they were speaking volumes in her heart.

“--Robinson’s on the 20, now 15, he’s sweeping past the defense to the 10 -- 5 -- TOUCHDOWN, CHICAGO!!!”

"FUCK YES!" Alyssa jumped up, her arms outstretched in a V shape. “Hallelujah. Holy shit. Thank ya, Jesus.” She let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling nothing short of elated, not concerned in the slightest by the heads that twisted around again.

Hakim stood slack-jawed from the raised platform for a moment, his tallish physique slouching on the pulpit, before adjusting the microphone and clearing his throat deeply. "I'm certainly glad, Sister Alyssa is ... feeling the spirit this morning."

"I am feeling it, Brother Hakim," She shook her head profusely. "I. Am. Feeling it." She shot him a dimpled grin.

Drake snorted loudly, covering his face with one hand and grabbing the side of her dress to pull her back down with the other.

They turned to each other, neither one able to control the snickering and shaking of their bodies. Drake lifted a sleeping Patrick over his shoulder while Alyssa grabbed Audrey's hand; the Walker couple decided they were too immature for church this morning.

They laughed all the way to the parking lot.

"It's never a dull moment with you, baby girl," Drake chuckled, turning over the ignition.

"You know me …” She blew on her nails before rubbing them against her chest. “... just doing the Lord's work." 

--------------

It was customary in Cordonia for families to gather together each week for a big supper after church. 

The Walkers traditionally took turns hosting with Liam and Riley, and Constantine and Regina. This week's meal was at the elder Ryses.

Sitting down at the dining room table, everyone licked their chops, hungry and ready to dig into all the made-from-scratch southern goodness Mrs. Regina had prepared: Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, green beans with hamhock, corn-on-the-cob, deviled eggs, biscuits, sweet tea, and coffee. It was all accompanied by two containers of broccoli salad, Alyssa picked up from the Piggly Wiggly deli after church, and Riley's lopsided carrot cake.

There was always a lot of food, a lot of love, and what would it be in a small town without a little gossip here and there.

"Regina, you've outdone yourself on this meal," Liam raved while placing his five-month-old son in a high chair and fastening the clasps. "If it tastes as good as it smells, we're all in for a big treat."

Everyone agreed as she sat down, Constantine pushing her chair in with a peck to the top of her head. "Thank you, Liam." She looked up at her husband with a sincere smile, rubbing his arm. "Only the best for our family."

She meant every word of that as she and Constantine glanced around the table at all the cheerful faces of the people they loved most — that included Drake and his family. 

Drake's father had been the sheriff for many years before his untimely death, while the younger Walker was a teen. Connie had never met a braver, more hard-working man than Jackson; the now mayor stepped in after that death to be the father figure in Drake's life. Drake was already best friends with Liam, and over time, the family just considered him one of their own. Drake and Alyssa's children referred to them as Mamaw and Papaw Rys.

As everyone settled in and passed the food around the table, the doorbell rang; 7-year-old Ellie -- Liam and Riley's oldest -- jumped up to answer it. With everyone focused on getting their helpings, Riley leaned over and whispered to Alyssa, "Any more scoop on Savannah?"

Alyssa passed the potatoes to her and answered in a hushed tone, "I drove past her house yesterday ... Chuck was there. His big rig was backed right up into the driveway. They're not even trying to hide it anymore."

"I knew it." Riley slapped a scoop of potatoes onto her plate, passing them across to Liam. "When does Bertrand get back from that Bankers Convention in Atlanta?"

"I think Max said on Tuesday. And I guarn-damn-tee, Chuck will be there until then."

"Of course he will. Have you told Drake yet?"

Alyssa shook her head, peeking over at her husband, who was in hog heaven, dousing everything on his plate with white gravy, blissfully unaware of their idle chitchat. She turned back to Riley. "Not yet. You know how protective he is. I'll need to hide the gun cabinet keys when he finds out ... if he finds out. You remember how upset he got when Bianca got caught at the Love's Truck Stop with Landon Ebrim over the summer. His mama can do what she wants, but not with a married man."

Riley agreed with a nod before taking a sip and swallowing her sweet tea. "Ya know, I've never seen sweet Emmaline that angry."

"Yeah, me neither. She sure whopped ass that day." They both giggled lightly. "Landon's dentures flew clean across that truck lot."

"I saw her the other day at the Food Lion, grinnin' like a baked possum. Got that ol' dog for everything he had."

Alyssa huffed, "Cept' his nuts."

Ellie ran back in and hopped in her chair. "Miss Olivia is here!"

Alyssa stiffened, clutching her fork a little tighter before letting out a faint groan. Not that she didn't like the Assistant Principal of Cordonia Elementary -- she was her boss, after all, and they grew up together -- she could just be a little off-putting, sometimes with her treatment of Drake. In light of Olivia's recent divorce, she had, however, started directing most of her scorn on her ex-husband, Anton.

Everyone greeted Olivia as she strolled in behind the youngster, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it on a counter with her purse. "I smelled your chicken and taters all the way from Lythikos Drive, Regina. You know how I love a good rib stickin' meal."

"Is Travis and Waylon here?" Patrick piped up eagerly from the children's table, hoping to have some boys to play with rather than the three little girls who kept ganging up on him.

Olivia pulled out a chair and started loading her plate down. "They're with their daddy this weekend, sugar. I'll tell them you asked about them."

Drake lifted his coffee mug, not making eye contact with anyone. "Speaking of ... I saw Anton yesterday at the Dollar Tree ... with someone." He smirked into his drink. While everyone else knew who and was trying to avoid the elephant in the room, he owed her for years of squabble.

"Who? Madeleine?" Olivia spat, adding heaping spoonfuls of sugar to her already overly sweetened tea. "Bless her rotten heart, he was seeing her before our break up. Moved in with her right after the divorce was final, so I hope she's enjoyed cookin' and cleanin' after my youngins' all weekend, cause she's gonna be doin it a hell of a lot more now that she got herself fired."

Madeleine was a bank teller in the drive-thru at First Cordonia and also Leo's ex-fiancee. 

"Madeleine got fired?" Alyssa asked in surprise. "She's been there for years."

The redhead swirled the sugar around in her tea with a spoon before licking it off and continuing, "Mmm-hmm. Bertrand caught her on video, stuffing her gaudy drawers into the vacuum tubes at the bank and sending them to that bastard when he drove through to make a deposit. He was making deposits alright. Right between her scrawny, cankled ass --"

"Olivia!" Liam quickly interjected, knowing once she got going, it would likely turn R-rated with several little ears listening. "I'm dying to hear how the Christmas Festival for next Saturday is coming along." He shot a look across the table at Drake for getting her worked up. Drake simply grinned.

By late afternoon, supper had been eaten, dishes cleaned, and pants unbuttoned. After a couple of hours of chatting on the back porch and watching the kids play, the two younger couples packed up leftovers Regina insisted they take home and were ready to hit the road. 

Liam and Riley lived next door and walked out with the Walkers who were making their way to the Tahoe parked on the street.

Alyssa bounced and cooed over baby Jacob before handing him back to Riley and getting into the vehicle's passenger seat. 

Liam was leaning into the driver's side window, having a casual discussion with Drake about the opening day of deer season next Saturday and asking what time he wanted to head out.

Alyssa was half-listening and half-working the stereo when an idea popped into her head. "You know what would be fun?” Both men stopped talking and glanced over at her. “We should all go?”

Drake knit his brows. “Go where?

“Hunting. We can make it a double date. You and me, Riley and Liam. The great outdoors. Some quality time together. I’ll even make snacks for everyone. It’ll be fun,” her voice was chipper. She was excited about it. 

She was also deadly serious. 

So were the dubious looks Drake and Liam gave each other over the thought of taking their wives on the most important hunting event of their year. Not that either didn't enjoy spending time with their significant others, but hunting was a whole different world. It was a one-person sport where you spent the day away from reality and responsibilities and just enjoying the great outdoors —a place to be alone and experience the thrill of a good hunt.

“Guys, I’m serious. We go fishing together, and I’ve shot targets plenty of times. I really wanna go hunting with you. Riley wants to go too, don't you?” She cast an inquisitive glance out her window at Riley, who glared back with the biggest what-the-fuck look she'd ever made. “See, she wants to go too.”

“Baby,” Drake began softly, giving her knee light squeezes. “I don’t mind taking you, but this is opening day. We’ll be in the woods for hours, in the cold. It’s not really what someone would consider a ‘date.’ And we’re going to the Festival that night … we’ll get a chance to spend time together there.”

She held his gaze as her lips began to quiver. “I understand. You .. you need time to be away from me, and it was a dumb idea anyway --”

“No,” Drake cut in. His heart plummeted from the sadness in her voice and eyes. “That’s not it at all. I love spending time with you. And if you really want to do this, then … let’s do this.”

“Really? We can go together?” Drake nodded with a smile before she squealed in his ear and pulled him into a tight hug. “I can’t wait! Thank you!”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Liam let out a heavy breath as he looked over at Riley -- The woman he knew would not be a fun hunting partner next week -- still standing on the sidewalk, appearing like she might faint. “Yeah ... I can’t wait either.”

---------------------

Saturday. 5:15 a.m. The cellphone alarm on Drake’s bedside table let off a series of rhythmic beeping sounds and vibrations. 

The alarm wasn’t needed. The man had been awake for hours, listening to his wife's gentle snores; the anticipation of bringing home at least a 12-pointer keeping him from falling back asleep. 

Letting out a ferocious yawn and a hearty stretch, he picked up his phone to dismiss the alarm and rolled over to wake Alyssa.

With her ass perfectly curled into the space between his stomach and thighs, his hands settled on her curvy hip, jostling her slightly. “Time to get up, my little peach. We gotta get crackin’ before all the good deer are gone.”

“I just need one more hour, okay? Thanks,” she protested with a drowsy murmur, pulling the pillow over her head.

Drake chuckled, rubbing soothing circles over her back. “No. We have to get up now. We’re wasting time, sleepyhead. Unless … you don’t want to go.”

Alyssa’s heavy eyes stung as she tried to peel them open one at a time. “No, I wanna … go ...” she trailed. Her eyes slowly shut again, and she was out.

On a day like today, Drake was usually up and ready in ten minutes. Once he could finally get his wife out of bed, dressed, and back awake again from where she fell asleep on the toilet, it was close to 45 minutes. 

Maxwell, who was also a childhood friend and the music teacher where Alyssa taught, rented the room over their garage. He agreed to come down that morning and watch the kids while the pair spent their morning in the woods. Bianca used to help out in that regard, but the kids complained she slept the whole time, and Alyssa was pretty sure her mother-in-law smoked pot around them.

Drake loaded up the truck, placing his rifle and a smaller .22 caliber for Alyssa behind the seat. Dragging herself slowly to the vehicle, the night sky still pitch black and her breath turning to thick vapors in the frigid air, she listlessly tossed a Taylor Swift tote bag on the floorboard and climbed in.

Drake looked at his phone after everything was packed up to see if Liam had sent a message about being late. It was unusual for him not to be there already. Typically, his best friend was up and at his house before Drake was even ready. He sent off a quick text to check.

Drake: Where you at, man?

Liam: Running late. Riley had to put makeup on and do her hair. 

Liam: I’m having so much fun already 😑

Liam: snark

Drake: Lyss couldn’t decide which gloves looked the best with her orange vest. I guess she wants to impress the deer before she kills them.

Liam: We’re not catching deer today. We’ll be lucky if we catch a cold. Be there in 10.

Twenty minutes later, Liam’s gray Silverado pulled onto the Walker’s gravel drive. Riley had wanted biscuits and gravy from McDonald's, and she had to run back inside to pee, so that set them back. But, with everyone now there, they were finally ready to head out.

Just down the rural road from where Drake and Alyssa lived, the current sheriff of Cordonia, Bastien, owned several acres of unoccupied land that he used for recreation. He had been a close friend of Drake’s dad and agreed to let Drake and Liam hunt and fish on his property whenever they wanted.

Turning onto the dirt road and opening the gate, the four friends arrived at their spot just as dawn was breaking. 

No one spoke much as they trekked through the mud, sticks, and brittle fall leaves that littered the path to the deer stands. Riley and Alyssa were too exhausted to say anything. Drake and Liam just weren’t used to talking at all.

"Riley, love,” Liam whispered softly. “Can you watch how you’re walking? The noise is going to scare the deer away.”

“I can’t help it if … " She reacted loudly in frustration before Liam placed a finger over his lips, and she resumed speaking more quietly. “I can’t help it if there're leaves everywhere. I’m walking on them as delicately as possible.”

“How much further? I think my toes are frozen and I need coffee.” Alyssa bemoaned while walking on the balls of her heels. Drake was basically dragging her sluggish body by the hand. Her eyes were still drooping from exhaustion with every careful step.

“Just over yonder of that fence row is our stand.” He pointed out.

Alyssa aimed her flashlight around the woods in several spots. "And where do we pee at?"

Liam lightly snorted as Drake answered matter-of-factly. "Just over yonder of that fence row below our stand."

"Oh ... " her tone was small and apprehensive, "... I guess that's ... okay." She glanced back timidly at Liam, who was following close behind.

He shielded his eyes from the beam of her flashlight in his face and frowned. "I'm not going to watch you pee, Alyssa."

Riley gasped, "Eww! I don't want Drake watching me pee either." 

"Shhhhh." Liam was quick to remind her again of the volume of her voice.

"Stop, shushing me, Liam! Those deer don't know I'm out here."

Drake grunted, then whipped around to face the three of them. "Would you keep your voices down? No one's watching anybody take a piss," he whisper-yelled. "Lyssa and I will be at least a hundred yards away from ya'll. Riley, I promise you can piss your little heart out, and I won't see it."

"We're separating?" Alyssa asked wistfully. "What if I need to ask Riley something, and she can't hear me yelling across to her?"

"You'll just have to ask her when we're done, baby girl. And ... please don't yell questions to her while we're out here. Low voices."

They continued on with their noisy hike.

"Having so much fun," Liam grumbled to himself.

-------------------

Liam and Riley headed to their tree stand as Drake helped Alyssa climb up the ladder to theirs. 

The stand and ladder were made of plywood -- chipped and faded from years of exposure to the elements -- and were attached at the apex to an oak tree about twenty feet off the ground. At the top it had enough room to take a step onto, with a wooden seat just wide enough to accommodate them. One plank rail came out on both sides. 

Alyssa plopped down onto the seat, clutching her tote bag of goodies on her lap. She lifted the brim of the orange beanie she borrowed from Drake -- that smelled of animal carcass and gun powder -- above her eyes and peered out to the wilderness spread monumentally below. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the fresh, dewy air, taking in the sounds of twittering birds, branches clashing from the nearby squirrel frolicking on them, and the rippling of a bubbling brook streaming down the hill. 

A pleasant warmth overcame her as Drake's much larger body sat down next to her and protected her from the frosty wind blowing in from his side.

Alyssa wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into him. "I can see why you like this so much. It's so quiet and peaceful ... look how purty it is out here, Drake. It's just real purty, isn't it?"

Working diligently on getting their gear together, he stopped briefly to look out; affection glowed in his eyes. “It sure is, darlin’. Almost as purty as you ... and notice I said 'almost.'” He winked, and Alyssa blushed, feeling that same love trickling up inside her she'd had since they were teenagers. Drake could charm the pants off a chipmunk, but she was thankful he only used that gift on her.

"Sooo ... " She drawled in her thick Southern accent. "How long will it be before the deer start coming out?" 

Drake drew the barrel of her gun back after loading it with shells and explained, "Don't know. It could be minutes. It could be a few hours. Just whenever they head this way, I reckon."

Perplexed, Alyssa nodded slowly. "A few hours? I s'pose that's okay. What do you do while you're waiting?"

He shrugged, passing a gun to her. "You just ... sit here."

"You just sit here and do what?"

Drake leaned over to kiss into her orange cap and replied, "Wait."

"Wait." She acknowledged. "I can do that. I'll just sit here ... and wait."

Several minutes had passed, and Alyssa was already bored with listening to nature, Drake's gurgling stomach, and sitting quietly with nothing to do. Every so often, a shotgun blast was heard in the distance, signifying either someone out there had gotten their prize or Riley had driven Liam insane. It was the only break from the monotony that came with the boredom of sitting in a tree for who knew how many hours.

Letting out a giant exhale that caught Drake's attention, she propped her rifle against the railing and pulled the cloth tote that was sitting between her boots into her lap. Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out her phone and began thumbing out a message.

Drake furrowed his brows and asked, "What're you doin'?" 

"Just texting Riley,' she answered dismissively. He shook his head and leaned it back against the tree while she formulated her message.

Alyssa: You still alive over there? How's it going?

Riley: This is boring as shit.

Riley: And now my texting is apparently scaring away the deer. F the deer Liam. F all the damn deer!!!! What were you thinking, Lyss?

Alyssa: I was thinking we could spend quality time with our husbands. The men we love and cherish with all of our hearts. I’m having a great time with Drake so far 😍😘

Alyssa: And no one twisted your arm to come bitch.

Riley: Liam's just staring through binoculars. He hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes except to tell me to point the gun away from him or to quit moving. Let’s go get our hair did at Adelaide's.”

Alyssa: OHHH Yes! And get Chinese food ... CRAB RANGOONS!! I'll have Drake drive us back. Girls Day Out. Love you!

Drake let out a belch and blew it away when Alyssa turned to him with a dazzling smile and a sparkle in her blues. "Can you drive Riley and me back to the house?"

"What? Right now?" he shrieked. She answered him with a cheerful nod. "What happened to all that talk about wanting to spend quality time with me?"

"I still do. But ... we're just sitting here, not really doing anything. I could be getting my hair done for tonight's festival. I also have a ton of laundry to do, some papers to grade, and I’m supposed to be making the Devereaux’s famous peach cobbler for the raffle. If I leave now, I’ll have time to do all of it.” Alyssa knew she probably wouldn’t do half of that, and Audrey would likely make the cobbler, but it made the situation sound more urgent.

"It's opening day, baby. I'm not leaving this spot." He reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out his keys. "If you and Riley wanna take my truck, I'll ride back with Liam."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I don't know my way back to the truck. And I sure as hell know Riley doesn't."

He smirked, stuffing his keys back. "Then you're stuck."

The next hour was brutal. Alyssa texted Riley to alleviate the boredom for several minutes, but there had been no responses in a long while. She wasn't aware that Liam tossed her friend's phone over the hill when she started making TikTok videos of her plight -- Liam took his deer hunting seriously: No noise meant no noise.

Drake wasn't much better; he was quieter than his usual self. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could at least talk. An occasional whispered word was not going to cut it.

Alyssa sighed heavily. She wiggled around for comfort. She unwrapped a Nutty Bar. She crunched. She opened a can of pop. She tapped her fingers. She flipped the pages of a magazine. Each one got that look from Drake that let her know it was too loud. If she ever made it out of there, she planned to jabber and stir until she couldn't do it anymore.

After another half-hour of stewing quietly in her thoughts without a sign of a deer anywhere, Alyssa decided now was the time to finally just talk. 

"Do you ever think about having another baby?" It was a topic that had been on her mind for a while. To her surprise, Drake didn't give her a look or even freak out the way she anticipated. Despite his own rule of silence, he even responded in kind.

"Yeah. Kind of a lot."

Her right brow darted up. "Really?" 

Drake took a breath and shifted the gun across his lap. "I mean, of course. It's always been my dream to settle down and have a bunch of youngin's with the woman I love." He studied her lit-up face; he'd swore she'd gotten more beautiful with age. That's why he hesitated when he added, "But ... "

Her shoulders slumped at his words, and a deflated look impressed upon her face. "But ... " The word barely made it past her lips.

Drake reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. "Lyssa, we have so much going on right now. You're working on National Boards, Audrey has piano recitals and basketball, Patrick has peewee football and Boy Scouts. We barely have time -- except for right now -- for just ... us. I'm not saying,"never"... just that right now ... isn't a good time."

"I understand that, but ... we've always made it work. And don't you miss those tiny little fingers wrapped around yours? And the way they smell fresh out of the bath? And those chubby little cheeks pressed up against yours?" she goaded.

“Of course I do. I remember the first time I held Audrey and PJ in my arms -- there’s just no better feeling in the world than ...to look down ... " Drake paused as his voice cracked, and his brown eyes glistened like glass. " ... and to see someone so small ..." When she sniffled, it made it that much harder for him to speak. "... that you created with the woman you've loved since you were 16 years old. But I like who they are now, and watching them grow, and doing things with them ... And, well ... there’s no shit clean up.”

“You obviously haven’t washed Patrick's clothes in a while,” Alyssa retorted with a chuckle that brought out one in her husband.

"I’ll have to talk to him about that." He gazed deeper into her eyes. "But I do love you ... more than all the peaches in Georgia, Lyssa Claire.”

Alyssa smiled.“That’s what you said to me when you promised to marry me when we were teens.”

Drake returned his own smile. “I did. I remember like it was yesterday too. Sitting in your parent’s basement, watching Friends reruns, eating pizza, making out. And hell, it’s still as true today as it was then. Somehow, even more."

Their cold lips parted and joined halfway for a fervent kiss, with Drake's hand meandering around the subtle groove at the junction of her waist. Just as it became more intense and desirous, a rustling of twigs off in a nearby thicket caught Drake's ear, and he broke away, his eyes scoping the perimeter. Alyssa wasn't offended, she heard it too, and her heart raced with excitement.

Lifting the binoculars hanging from his neck, he spotted two deer eating from a blackberry patch some thirty yards away. He pointed in their direction; Alyssa gave a quick thumbs up, letting him know she saw them too.

Drake carefully lifted the rifle resting in his lap as Alyssa leaned forward and squinted to get a better visual. "Is that a buck and a doe?" she whispered, not moving an inch.

"Sure as fuck is." He mounted the stock of his .30 caliber, Winchester, just beneath his collarbone;  the rush of this moment coursed ravenously through his body. He lined up the scope and placed a steady finger on the trigger -- his thumb pulling the hammer back.

“Wait.” Alyssa loudly whispered. “You can’t shoot him.”

"I'm gonna. Better cover your ears."

"No, Drake. There's a doe with him. What if that's his wife? You can't just leave her all alone without him."

"Lyss, this is the whole reason we're out here."

"So you can make a widow out of her?"

"No ... so I can make deer chili out of him."

Alyssa's mouth flew open. "No. No. RUUUUUUUUN! RUUUUUUN!"

Drake pulled his face away from the scope and fired her a look. "What the hell are you doing? They're getting away!"

She tilted her chin boldly. "I don't care. That was her husband, and they're in love, and you can't take that away from them. I would be so sad if we were just out eating berries and someone came up and shot you, ALL SO THEY COULD EAT DRAKE CHILI!". 

Drake dropped his head. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. As long as he’d known her, she was stubborn, and at that moment, she was dead set in believing those two deer were living out the greatest romance of all time. Nothing he said or did would change her mind on that. 

A thought emerged while he attempted to comprehend the logic of the situation. Those deer ran off in the direction where Liam was set up. Maybe if he could give his friend a heads up, it was still possible at least someone would leave those woods with the prized buck.

Turning his back from Alyssa so that she couldn't stop him, he pulled a small walkie-talkie from his pocket and radioed Liam. Alyssa knew what was up and jumped to her feet, thrusting her arms around him in an attempt to stop the travesty.

"You can't do this, Drake," she hollered, "That’s her soulmate. And why don't I have a walkie-talkie? I want a walkie-talkie!"

While seated next to Liam, Riley was swinging her legs, purposefully making the soles of her boots scrape against the platform. Liam tried to ignore her; maybe he had been a little too uptight about every little noise and utterance she made. But this was playing a whole different ballgame now: she was now making it her mission to piss him off.

Prepared to pound his head against the tree, Liam gritted his teeth, skimming his eyes in her direction. "Love, do you have to do that?"

"Did you have to throw my phone in the woods?" She spat back.

Liam rubbed his hand over his face. "No, and I am sorry that. I apologize for all of eternity. I promise I will get you another one as soon as we get back, okay?”

Riley huffed. "Fine, but that phone had all of my contacts on it. It had our babies' pictures and videos on it ... our vacation photos. I can't get those memories back ever, and I have to find it, and God only knows where it landed. It could be ..." She stopped rattling on when she caught sight of the distressed look Liam was giving her. Knitting her brows, Riley asked, "What?"

"Nothing ... just ... can you lower your voice a little? You're gonna scare the deer away," 

He regretted it as soon as it came out. 

“LIAAAAM!”

He saw the steam gushing out of her ears. There was no time to answer the incoming call on his walkie-talkie from Drake.

Belting out a furious screech, Riley jumped up and tried to jerk the gun from his hands. There was no question she wouldn't shoot him, but she'd sure as hell shred his favorite gun apart piece-by-piece and toss them all the way to Portavira Lake on the other side of town.

Riley tugged with all of her might. "I have HAD IT with being quiet for those damn deer, Liam. HAD IT!"

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down ..." He stood up in front of her, pulling back on the rifle even harder, surprised -- and not pleasantly so -- his considerably smaller wife had this much struggle in her.

"Don't you sweetheart me. You have shushed me for the last time, Liam Preston Rys!"

“Okay, I’m sorry! But can you at least admit us fighting over a gun is dangerous? Somebody is going to get seriously hurt, and I don’t want it to be you, Riley. Please. I won’t shush you anymore, I promise.” His face softened, eventually adorning a loving smile at his wife, who, with a sigh, was unable to resist that handsome face and relaxed her grip. 

Riley gave him a half-smile in return. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve ruined your hunting trip.”

“Yes ... you did.” Liam agreed, dodging the playful slap she nearly made to his upper arm. “But I don’t want to fight anymore.”

With the War of the Ryses finally over, they went in for a makeup kiss until Drake’s voice called out to Liam again through his walkie talkie. Liam set the gun down on the bench and leaned it against the tree before he started digging into his pocket to answer the device. Riley dropped down onto the seat, her elbow brushed against the rifle and caused it to slide away until the barrel end hit the railing and set off a powerful blast.

When the ringing in both of their ears subsided, and the smoke had cleared, Liam and Riley collected themselves from the sudden spine-gripping explosion that shook them both. While Riley explained to Liam what happened, a hysterical sounding Drake came back over the walkie-talkie, wailing, “Alyssa’s been shot! Alyssa’s been shot! Help me!”

__________________

Later that evening, in the courthouse square, the street was lit up with zig-zagged rows of red, green, and white lights. Strands of garland were wound around every lamppost in perfect spiraled loops, and red bows hung and waved with the wintry breeze.

With traffic rerouted away from the area, vendors lined sidewalks selling local goods to put the town's citizens in the festive spirit. What would this small town in Georgia have been without boiled peanuts, low country boil, fried green tomatoes, barbecue, and peach everything? 

Once Constantine had lit the 30-foot spruce, surrounded by hundreds of merry people from all walks of life that made up this small community, the festival was officially kicked-off.

In a large tent set up on the square, Liam and Riley laid out styrofoam containers and drinks they’d purchased from a barbeque vendor on one of several picnic tables inside. With their two young daughters munching away on their meal, and the stroller with their sleeping son beside them, they both sat down with heavy hearts and restless minds.

Liam bit into his barbecue sandwich, noticing Riley only prodding at her mac-and-cheese while staring off into the distance. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong; he knew what happened that morning was bothering her with guilt and worry. It wasn’t every day she accidentally shot someone.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Riley shook her head slightly with a sad look. “No. It’s just not the same without Alyssa here. You know how much she loves Christmas and the festival. She was so looking forward to it too, until --”

“You shot her.”

“Yeeeeeesssss,” she cried out. Liam reached across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze, his thumb caressing her smooth skin. Riley continued to sniffle as she grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the barbecue sauce off Liam’s sticky fingers that were now smeared all over hers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear it. And the way … and the way Drake cried. It broke my heart. Now he has her on bed rest AND house arrest. He won’t let her take calls. I’ll never see or hear from my bestie agaaaain.” The tears continued to flow in steady streams.

Liam stiffened, feeling the eyes of everyone in that tent, gawking at his overly-dramatic wife breaking down. He started to tell her to lower her voice, but after the gun battle in the woods, he thought better of it. “Riley, darlin’, you know Drake is really overprotective of Alyssa. And as scary as what happened was, she only needed the one stitch and band-aid for her graze wound. Something tells me Drake won’t be able to keep her down long.”

---------------------------

Liam was right. As much as Drake tried to keep her in bed so he could wait on her hand and foot, protect her from the careless friends of the world who could inadvertently do his baby girl harm, and check to see if she needed a new band-aid every few minutes, he could not keep her down. She had been far too excited to hang out with the people she loved so much and celebrate at one of her favorite festivals.

Maxwell had left for the events with Audrey and Patrick an hour ago; they were part of the children’s caroling group and needed to be there early. Against Drake’s wishes, Alyssa showered, got dressed, and made sure he knew in no uncertain terms would he be able to prevent her from going. The only thing he knew to do was to go, follow her around the entire night, and make sure she wouldn’t get shot again.

They circled the block where everything was held several times, but spaces to park were impossible to find. Three blocks away was the church where they attended, and the parking lot was completely empty. Drake didn’t like the fact that Alyssa would have to walk so far in her debilitated condition and was prepared to haul her piggyback style if he had to, but this was the best spot he could find.

Drake moved the gearshift into park and reached over to grab Alyssa’s arm, who was already bounding out the door. He pulled Alyssa back inside, the chilly air blowing through her open door swept her straighten hair this way and that way. 

She cocked her head to the side and exhaled, “Drake, I can open my own door. I’m not broken. It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.”

“I know.” He smiled that tenderhearted smile only Alyssa had ever seen. The same one sending a shudder through her already chilled body. “I changed my mind,” he replied simply

Alyssa slammed her eyes shut and groaned. “I just told you I was fine --”

“No, no,” He shook his head. “About having another baby. I want to start trying.”

Saddled with curiosity, she slid back into the truck and shut the door. “But, I thought you said we didn’t have time for that --”

“Yeah, I did say that. I still believe it. But … today made me realize that yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today …”

Alyssa’s hand flew to her mouth as she laughed out loud. Drake gave her a confused look before chuckling awkwardly to himself, “What’s so funny?”

She lowered her hand, still laughing. “You got that saying from a quote on a poster in my classroom. You’re the one who hung it up for me.”

The memory dawned on him, and he lowered his head, attempting to cover the guilty grin that spread over it. “Well, hell. Here I was trying to make you think I was all insightful and smart and stuff.”

Alyssa’s hand splayed across his rugged chest as she leaned over to kiss him.“You are very insightful and smart. You know I never settle for anything less than the best.”

“I s’pose.” he said, forking his fingers through his hair. “But … I guess what I wanted to say was … I know that bullet missed you, barely … but what if it hadn’t? What if I’d left those woods without you today? Just like you were afraid that doe might. Time wouldn’t matter anymore. There will NEVER be enough time with you. You’re my life, Alyssa Claire. You’re my lover, my friend, my heart, my confidante, my soul, my everything … my little peach. I want to experience all that life has given me with you as my wife … and forever make time with you.”

“DRAAAKEY!” she bawled, spreading her tiny arms wide around his bulky body. Alyssa drew him into her so hard it nearly crushed the wind right out of his lungs. “I -- love -- you -- so muuuch!” Drake patted her back and kissed into her hair as she sniveled into his shirt. He hated when she cried, but damn if this didn’t feel good to him. Anytime she was happy made him that way too. 

They took a moment to kiss and pet each other a little before Alyssa sat up and asked, “So … when do you want to start trying for a new baby Walker?”

He shrugged. “Whenever you want, baby.”

Alyssa looked through the back window of the truck and scanned the parking lot. She bit her lip and looked back at him impishly. “What about … now?”

Drake’s eyes flew open wide. “In the church parking lot?”

Pursing her lips, she affirmed, “Yes. We’ve done it behind the Piggly Wiggly plenty of times. And let's not forget the ‘Great Ass Blow-out of 2019’ in the Atlanta Convention Center parking garage.”

“I will never forget that.” Drake shook his head as that momentous sexual experience replayed in his mind. “Mmmm, you performed magic that day, woman.”

She raised a brow and coaxed him on, “So? What’dya say?”

Drake took a tentative look around at the dark, empty lot, then back at her. “We’re so going to hell, but I’m in.”

“Eeeeeee,” she squealed, jerking his arm around in excitement. “Try to keep your ass out of the window this time, okay?”

Thirty minutes later, Pastor Hakim pulled into the church parking lot with Mara, the game warden, following behind in her truck. There had been several reports from passerby’s of loud animals howling and screeching behind the church. The stray cat population was out of control in that area, and several cats had burrowed their way inside the church on occasion. 

Hakim parked his car, with Mara pulling in beside him. They both got out simultaneously and listened quietly to see if they could decipher where the commotion was coming from. 

Within seconds, a load moan roared out, followed by several consecutive whimpers that were hard to make out by the duo.

Mara listened intently, then gestured with her flashlight to an area near the back of the lot where clusters of shrubs and dry brush bordered. Hakim ambled behind her, the noise getting closer and closer until the pastor's brow furrowed at the shaking of a nearby truck.

“Damn, teenagers,” he grumbled as they tipped toed discreetly.

Mara crouched down by the truck's tailgate, Hakim bending over while she duck-walked toward the driver's side door.

The game warden turned to the pastor and instructed, “On my three. 1 -- 2 -- 3.” They both jumped up at the same time, flashing the light inside the cab. “HAHA Caught ya! OH MY GOD!”

Alyssa, who was on top of Drake, completely naked except for the band-aid on her left arm, looked up in utter humiliation and shock. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her breast, feeling like she might faint. Not knowing what to say at that moment to rectify their actions or why those two were still staring inside the truck, Alyssa smiled sheepishly. “I’m still feeling the spirit, Hakim.”

---------------------------------

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#drake x alyssa #Liam x Riley #gun usage #hunting

[subbing-for-clones]

The New Apprentice Part 8

Maul x Sith!reader 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Yall it has been a God damn week I'll tell you that. So sorry it has taken me so long to get this out. Fair warning, had to do some already known stuffs to move the story along the timeline and I just wasn't feeling it while writing, but it's important to the timeliness nonetheless.

WARNINGS: 18+ P in V sex, unprotected sex, Canon violence. Kinda angsty at the end? Idk.

PREVIOUS         NEXT          MASTERLIST

       The following morning you awoke alone in your tent. The cool morning air aiding to shake the fog from your mind as you thought of the previous night. A smile twitched on your lips that was soon replaced with a heavy eye roll. One of your pant legs had been torn up the seam by the medic who worked on you. Shrugging, you ripped off the tattered fabric and did the same to the other to match. Sliding on your now short one piece you pulled on your boots, hung your sabers from your hips and left your little shelter.

    You knew why Maul left; he didn't want anyone to think the two of you were involved until the situation was less vulnerable. You were thankful he waited until you were asleep before he absconded into the darkness. Maker, you had to stop thinking about it lest you rile yourself up again. It was time to go to work, continue to prove to your master that you deserved to be at his side. That he needed you there.

    You were relieved that Savage followed behind you a few minutes later. At least you weren't the last one up. Pre and Maul strode through the camp with you and Savage following closely behind.

"We will need an army if we are to successfully take back Mandalore." Your master rumbled.

"The people will support us once we remind them who they are." Pre retorted.

"Perhaps... but the Black Suns will be able to provide us with resources beneath the attention of the Republic."

"They're a crime syndicate!"

"Yes, and a powerful one that will lead to our victory. We have but one chance to pull this off."

      Boarding a Mandalorian starship with your Master and Savage was quiet. You had decided to keep your mouth shut and revel in Maul's ability to command and scheme. You stood at Savage's side with your hands clasped behind your back, back straight and chin high. Your weapons dangled dangerously at your hips. Every so often a Mandalorian would look at you curiously through their visor to which you responded the same every time. You gazed into their black where their unseen eyes lay behind, unblinking with a straight lip and an air of importance until they turned away. Savage quirked a lip slightly every time.

When you were alone he rumbled quietly.

"You make them uneasy. Much more than I do I think."

"I hardly doubt that my friend." Your voice soft and cold in the off chance someone could hear you.

"Possibly... they fear us."

"Good. Then they will stay in line under Lord Maul. A warrior should never show fear. They may be strong but they've shown a vital weakness we will exploit in time if necessary."

    Maul was the only one within ear shot and he silently listened to your words. Although he didn't show it at the time externally, his chest swelled in pride.

    After landing on Mustafar they were greeted with a battalion led by a tall Falleen male by the name of Vigo Ziton Maj. He chuckled when your master harshly requested an audience but he led Maul, Savage, Pre Vizsla and yourself inside the fortress anyway.

    Five more men sat at a long black table upon your entrance. When demanded that they join you, you were met with exclamations of amusement and they attempted to call for your deaths.

    Without hesitation you and Savage each tossed a spinning lightsaber in their direction. Effectively beheading each and every one of the leaders in single mirrored motions. After seeing first handedly that denial of an alliance would lead to death, Moj, the next in line to lead agreed to join your cause without hesitation.

    The Pykes practically handed themselves over to you once news about the Black Suns had reached their ears. The offer of their alliance was a grateful surprise to you. Recognizing the slow shift in universal power only spurred your attraction to your master. Visions of you riding his throbbing cock permeated your mind and drifted to his.

    On the ride to Nal Hutta these thoughts only grew in intensity as your sinful need grew. It had been days since he had last touched you and although you maintained an outward composure, your mind reeled. With only a few hours until your arrival, Maul strode past you, pausing momentarily to give you a knowing glance and ever so slight nod of his head. You waited a minute before following his force signature until a supply closet door hissed open. He grabbed you almost violently, pulling you within the small enclosure. He listened to be sure you weren't followed before he turned to you.

"My my what devious thoughts you project little one." He cooed as he pulled you into his embrace. With your back to his chest, he lowered his face into the crook of your neck, planting gentle wet kisses to your sensitive skin and lightly nipping at your ear. You took his hand and covered your mouth to stifle a whimper as he ground his hardening cock into your rear. You could feel the heat of your core as his velvety voice hummed in the ear he was toying with.

"Now, I'd much rather take my time with you but it seems you need some tension released. I'll need you clear headed on this venture. I believe the Hutt Clan will give us the most trouble in forming an alliance. Would you like my help my sweet little apprentice?"

    You nodded fervently, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he slid your one piece down until it pooled on the floor. He bent you over infinitesimally, just enough to grant him entrance. He prodded his hot, firm erection against your folds letting out a silent groan feeling how wet you already were.

"God's I've hardly touched you and your soaking wet you naughty little girl."

    Without warning he slipping inside you, biting one of his fingers to keep from crying out. He thrusted into at a brutal pace, sinking to his hilt with every rut. It didn't take long before you were fluttering around him and tears streamed down your cheeks.

"Maker, you're going to cum for me.. I can feel it... Let go my dear. Cum all over my cock."

    The command he soothed had you unraveling faster than you thought possible. The excitement of the risk at being found out only encouraged your orgasm. Still shaking from the aftershocks, your master bit your shoulder as he throbbed and filled you.

    You hastily cleaned yourself, getting ready to leave before you were caught but Maul grabbed your wrist and brought you back into an embrace. Gently pressing his forehead to yours and wrapping his arms around you.

"Soon you'll be at my side at all times my dear. Would you like that?" His glowing amber eyes meeting yours.

"Yes Master, of course."

    You pressed your lips to his and trying to calm your flush you left the small enclosure with newfound resolve undoubtedly spurred by your bliss.

       Maul had been correct as usual. The Hutts were in fact quite resistant. After hearing that they wouldn't be paid and that the deal was an alliance for their lives, five bounty hunters and the whole guard rushed the room. Desperate for some leverage you deflected the barrage of incoming blaster fire along with your master while leading them slowly out to the landing platform.

Finally, she's good for something you thought as Bo Katan fired rockets into the fortress, effectively killing most of the guard.

    You gave chase back into the fortress and fought the remaining bounty hunters. Unwillingly admitting that they were giving you more trouble than you would've hoped. Darting away from a purple woman with orange hair you kicked a dog off of your master while the bounty hunters made their retreat. Maul was convinced that they wouldn't be a further threat so you let them escape with their lives and empty pockets.

    You ended up having to travel to the gods awful desert planet of Tatooine for Jabba to finally agree to your terms.

       Back on Zanbar you and Savage shared a meal while Maul oversaw the organization of the troops and mixed crime syndicates.

"You seem restless." Savage noted.

"Duuuh." You exasperated. "All this planning and waiting and organizing. Ugh, I wanna go fuck shit up. We've been so busy with the boring shit I haven't even had time to train. Aside from that bounty hunter scuffle."

"Worry not little one, you'll be terrorizing the Mandalorians planet side with everyone soon enough." You scoffed at his response to which he cocked his brow.

"No, I'm not. Master wants me in the shadows. Something about the people recognizing me later on being a problem with his grand scheme."

"He has a habit of only telling half of a truth. Trust comes slowly to him. You know this." You sighed, pushing away your plate and pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Yes, I'm well aware. More so than he would like I'm sure."

"He cares very deeply for you."

"And I him but all this sitting around will get me nowhere. I told you about what happened on Malachor... for the first time since I've joined you two it feels like my feet are taking me some where I'm not supposed to go... it's been weeks and the only thing I've learned in that time frame is how to take his cock in secret, away from prying eyes."

    Savage nearly choked and also disregarded his food and sat looking at you with a pained look in his eyes.

"What will you do then?"

"Honestly? I haven't the faintest idea. All I know is that I'm supposed to 'extinguish the fear but always remember that 'the shadow cannot exist without the light' whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean."

"If you don't know what it means how do you know you're on the wrong path?" You paused at his question.

"Jedi and Sith both always say to trust in the force... I need to meditate on this."

    Savage nodded as you stood from your seat walking back towards your tent. Your master was a strong force user and ever since that night you two had opened up your minds to one another, truly lay bare before the other, it was damn near impossible to keep him out. When you passed him and Vizsla you had known they couldn't hear your conversation but the way that his eyes followed you. A specific crease in his brow. You had no doubt it had anything to do with Vizsla's ramblings, you realized he probably felt your conflict.

    Disappearing into your canvas enclosure you tried to push the thought of your lover, no, your master; down and away from the forefront of your mind. Gods above though, he was your lover. You loved him, so much. What if he was guiding you away from the place you needed to go? Everything felt right before you allied with the Death Watch. The weeks you spent training and traveling to Malachor felt right. But this, this felt like it was his path not yours. If your destinies didn’t cross would he abandon his to join you? Could you abandon yours to join him? You knelt in the center of your tent and straightened your back, closing your eyes. Allowing your mind to rest, allow the wild eradications to still and drift away. This was important. This was your destiny. You suddenly realized why, although you'd never admit it, the Jedi forbid attachments in their freakish cult.

#maul x reader #maul smut #darth maul #sith apprentice #savage opress #platonic savage #maul fluff #sith warrior #starwars au #star wars au #star wars #swtcw x reader #swtcw smut

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 4

A/N: ensue cute lil fight scene; this is short but the next part is... v long >:)

part 1 | part 3 | part 5

And then there were three. 

Zuko met Y/N on the steps away from the house. He had a single bag slung over his shoulder. Birds chirped off in the distance and if Y/N really listened she could hear the ocean slapping against the sand. 

“I’m glad I don’t have to convince you that coming back is the right thing to do.” The corner of her mouth turned up. This was the first time she had directly addressed him in three years. “Where’s Iroh?” Y/N asked. 

Zuko picked at his tunic. He had yet to meet her eyes.“He’s not coming.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. Azula said that Zuko and Iroh had been inseparable since Zuko’s banishment. She couldn’t go back to the ship with only one of the captives.  “What do you mean?” 

Zuko sent a look back to the house and started down the stairs that led down the mountain. “Let’s get going.”

Y/N huffed out through her nose and jogged to catch up with Zuko who’s pace was frighteningly fast down the steep stone stairs. “Why doesn’t Iroh want to come back?” 

He kept his eyes trained on the ground as he answered. “He says he’s never known my father to regret anything.”

“I was there when he told Azula. He does.” The lie slipped off her tongue easily. 

Zuko’s eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks. He didn’t say anything but his eyes asked the question his mouth couldn’t form: Really?

He’d always wanted to make his father proud, ever since they were children. Even after all that the Fire Lord had done to him, he was still so desperate for his approval. 

Y/N spoke the words she’d practiced in the mirror before heading up the mountain. “It’s very important to him that you come home, Zuko.” Y/N couldn’t stomach another lie. And technically, this one wasn’t a lie. It was a half-truth. It was important to the Fire Lord that Zuko go back to the Fire Nation, even if it was under the guise that he’d be welcomed back with fanfare. 

Zuko turned to look out at the sea of cherry-blossom trees and rocks to the ship on the water. The ship that he thought was god-sent. 

“Wait! Don’t leave without me!” Iroh shouted as he came down the stairs. 

“Uncle,” Zuko beamed up at him. “you’ve changed your mind.”

“Family sticks together, right?” Iroh asked as he placed a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. 

“We’re finally going home,” Zuko murmured under his breath in amazement. 

The sight of them both staring out onto the water made Y/N bite her lip. She wanted to tell them that they needed to turn back and run but she kept her mouth shut. It was her duty.

“Finally going home,” Iroh repeated as Zuko stepped away and resumed heading down the mountain. He looked to Y/N who worked to keep her face neutral. He didn’t look as fooled by her as Zuko was. 

In front of them the guards lined up on either side of the dock. They stood at attention with their traditional helmets and masks on. Y/N walked ahead, they were almost home free; just a few more steps before she hit the ramp. She walked to stand next to the ship’s captain as Azula addressed them. She was smiling at her victory already.

“Brother, Uncle, welcome” Azula bowed deeply which Iroh and Zuko returned. “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

The captain faced Y/N and nodded at her to go up the ramp first. Excitement burned in her chest as she squinted through the sun at Azula and made her way back to the ship. 

“Are we ready to depart, your highness?” The captain asked. 

“Set our course for home, Captain.”

“You heard the Princess! Raise the anchors,” the captain shouted from behind her. “We’re taking the prisoners home.”

Y/N had just reached Azula. Their faces mirrored one another from shock to outrage. Y/N whirled around on the captain who looked like he wanted to die on the spot. “You idiot,” she growled. She landed a swift kick to his stomach, effectively pushing him off the ramp and into the water. Her cheeks heated up in anger. Had he just shut up, Zuko and Iroh would be on the ship and in cuffs down below deck. It would have been easy for Y/N to get over her guilt about capturing them if she didn’t have to look in their eyes and face them. Now there was going to be a fight. 

Iroh had already turned on the guards around him, dodging fireballs and knocking them into the water with the grace of a much younger man. 

There was no one between Zuko and Y/N on the ramp. Y/N still hadn’t pulled her sword. It wouldn’t have been much good against his firebending anyways. “You lied to me!” he bellowed. His eyes burned into hers like he was shooting flames out of them. Y/N felt like she couldn’t use her voice, it had suddenly disappeared between the mountain and the dock. 

It didn’t matter, Azula assumed he was talking to her and answered for Y/N. “Like I’ve never done that before.” She grabbed Y/N’s arm and wrenched her back onto the ship, leaving Zuko to fight the guards that had just been flanking her. Azula gave her a little push to the upper deck and when she removed her hand Y/N realized her arm was burning where Azula touched her. She was geared up for a fight all along. 

Zuko’s anger fueled his fight. He stood on one foot and kicked one guard in the chest and punched the other, flames cracking as they left his hands and feet. Y/N stood on the upper deck watching it all unfold below her. Zuko ignited two knife-like flames from his hands. Azula’s back was still to him and Y/N knew immediately that whatever Zuko had planned was no match for Azula’s fight.  

“Zuko! Let’s go!” Iroh shouted from the dock. 

He ignored his uncle and began attacking Azula with fervor. He punched and kicked and sliced with his fire but each strike just missed Azula by a hair. She weaved around him like cat-snake in the reeds. She blocked a downstroke and pushed him away. 

“You know Father blames Uncle for the loss of the North Pole,” she taunted. “And he considers you a miserable failure for not finding the Avatar. Why would he want you back home except to lock you up where you can no longer embarrass him.” For a moment, Y/N thought that Zuko might surrender, or at least run from Azula and her guards. 

Instead he attacked again. 

Just as before, Azula evaded every strike and she had yet to throw any fire against Zuko. But Y/N was sure that wasn’t because she didn’t want to hurt him, she was just waiting for the right moment. They slowly made their way up the ramp to the upper deck. Y/N held her ground, she wasn’t afraid of a little heat. 

Suddenly Azula grabbed Zuko’s wrist, Zuko tried to jerk away at the last second, knowing what she was going to do, but she held fast. She shot a line of blue fire just over his head as he rolled backwards down the ramp. Y/N caught his expression when he landed in a crouch. Shock. He’d never seen her make blue fire before.

Zuko was still as Azula swirled her arms around her body creating a circle of energy. Lightning crackled around her, ready to be released. 

“Azula, don’t!” Y/N yelled. She didn’t know what made her do it but Y/N couldn’t watch as Azula killed her brother with that stupid fucking lightning. 

Her voice was enough to make Azula falter. The lightning faded for a moment before coming back stronger than before. Y/N drew her sword and started towards Azula unsure of what she was going to do to stop Azula, but Iroh got there first. As she pointed her lighting at Zuko, Iroh grasped her hand and Y/N watched in horror. Surely he would die from that. 

But he didn’t. Azula’s lightning traveled through his body and out his other hand straight into the side of the cliff, exploding rocks everywhere. He had redirected it. He twisted Azula’s arm around and kicked her in the chest, over the edge of the ship.

And then there were three. 

Y/N was caught in a stare down between the two men. She, the only non-bender on the Agni-damned ship, was the only one left standing to fight. But...Y/N realized she didn’t want to fight them. Any adrenaline she’d mustered up to go to battle evaporated. Slowly, without taking her eyes off of them, she let the tip of her sword fall. She watched as Iroh helped a still stunned Zuko to his feet and together they ran off the ship and into the cherry blossom forest. She swore Iroh had thrown a wink back in her direction...

Later, Y/N would tell herself that it was all a defense tactic; that the only reason she let them go was because she didn’t stand a chance against two fire-benders, one of them being the Dragon of the West, a man who could redirect lightning. She would absolutely deny any claim that she let them go because she didn’t want to see either of them imprisoned. That was absolutely untrue. 

A/N: how do we feel about Y/N lying to Zuko’s face? Letting Iroh and Zuko go? 

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