#he is calculated purposeful and intelligent

[andersdotters]

Ayato really liking dogs and the connection between Thoma and dogs really kind of just... portray their relationship in a bad light, but in the kind of way that I can't say it's incorrect either.

[ohbother2]

OKAY SO-

Alastor lost his cool and flipped his shit immensely when Lucifer showed up - why would that be? and why wedge himself between Lucifer and Charlie? Why would he react so viscerally when his literal main-competitor for retaining his rank and respect is Vox, and Vox openly antagonises him first, trying to drag Alastor's reputation through the mud in his broadcasts

Alastor remains cool, calm, collected, and in doing so completely surpasses Vox's attempts

in many ways, Alastor is unflappable. Always smiling, always a step ahead, always the most powerful and domineering in a room

and then- Lucifer shows up. This short statured, rosy-cheeked, rather pathetic excuse of a man

he waltzes in to the hotel, a fumbling over-excited mess, the least threatening a person could possibly look in hell, barely reaching Alastor's waist

and yet, he outranks Alastor, he could over-power him easily, he is the predator

and Alastor simply cannot handle that

Alastor may be furious that such a week-minded, emotionally unguarded man ranks so far above him with no way for Alastor to even attempt to gain the same status

so what does Lucifer lack? what is the one thing Alastor can have that he can't?

a relationship with Charlie

his anger is calculated, he finds what hurts Lucifer, he finds his weakness, he grips onto it with both claws, and he drags it in front of him, mocking the fact that, yeah, sure Lucifer may outrank him, but in his daughters mind? one of the few things Lucifer can't control? Alastor has the power, has the lead - in all manners of 'power' and 'influence' that Lucifer cannot control, Alastor makes sure he knows he is on top - he is Charlie's favourite, he succeeds where Lucifer has failed her

regardless of his motives, he has been there for Charlie, and Lucifer hasn't, and that's all that matters

but why does he have this deep-rooted need to prove himself? why can he not accept that he is still the second most powerful in that hotel?

his need for power, for dominance, for control is shown again when Husk confronts him in the hallway

'big talk for someone who's also on a leash'

this time, Alastor doesn't even bother targeting Husker's, insecurities, his weaknesses

he drags him down the hallway chained at his neck, teeth gnashing and positively enraged

there's no typical Alastor intelligence or cunning behind this action - it is pure unadulterated rage, it's a: I can kill you, and I will

killing husk would be useless - Alastor obviously has a purpose for him, that's why he's been kept alive and the other overlords haven't, killing him would get rid of any leverage Alastor had, it would get rid of Husk full stop

Alastor has been gone for 7 years, and now he's back, supporting a cause he doesn't believe, forced to wander around the hotel halls and haunting its residents instead of freely roaming Hell

Lilith has also been gone 7 years - and she isn't yet back

Alastor just so happens to appear at the hotel mere moments after Charlie tries to talk to Lilith, marching into the foyer and wedging himself into the project with a showman's flair

he is chained, he is chained to that infernal hotel where he doesn't belong - he cannot be redeemed, he doesn't want to be redeemed

he is chained to Lilith, and by extension he is chained to Charlie

and in his eyes, he is powerless, so utterly and infuriatingly at the mercy of those above him, and that simply won't do

so what can he do? what can a man, whose greatest desire is power, who's biggest insecurity is the power and status he wields over others, do to reclaim some semblance of that power? how can he usurp Lilith? how can be make this soul-bond beneficial to him?

he can win Charlie over - he can replace her father in the process, he can mould her as he sees fit, he can play on her need to view the best in everyone, in the need to create friendships and her insatiable ability to care for those around her

he cannot get to Lilith, he cannot match Lucifer, but he can have Charlie

and he's nearly got her

and when he does? who's to say her naivety, her trust, the relationship he's intentionally crafted with her, leads her to strike a deal with him in a moment of need? when the angels attack, when the hotel begins to crumble, when heaven commands her to stop her efforts? why wouldn't she strike a deal, in her mind, he's as caring as a father figure, and a man who's been there since day one unlike either of her parents

she shakes his hand

he has her soul

he has Charlie, and he has Lilith, and he has Lucifer

there's nothing they can do, and isn't that really what power is? not raw-strength, not magic, not status, but the ability to control those who others may believe to be above your own station?

he's forced to the hotel, he's chained down and unable to grab for more power - if Lilith is preventing him from earning it himself, well, he can always just force her to give it to him

all it takes is one hand shake.

the cherry on top? he get's to show Lilith it's her own desire for him to be at the hotel that has allowed him to ensnare them all

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Preview.... "Lick Back 2"

Lick Back 2 by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Angst, Domestic Drama, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Blood & Violence, Drug References, AITA!Terry Richmond.

Summary: Terry Richmond didn't expect to become a father over night. A surprising photo in the mail reveals that an illicit affair he had with a married woman eleven months ago resulted in a baby girl named after him. Ecstatic to be a new dad, he races to South Carolina to reunite with Nova, and bring their new family to Louisiana for Christmas. Unfortunately, Nova's estranged husband Jordan has different plans.

Preview Word Count: 3.6K

Arriving in full on Christmas Eve! Tell a friend! Part 1 HERE.

"I took one look at you

And it was plain to see

You were my destiny

With you I'll spend my time

I'll dedicate my life

I'll sacrifice for you

Dedicate my life for you"

Method Man & Mary J. Blige—"You're All I Need"

Terry Richmond couldn't stop looking at the eight by eleven color photo he received in the mail.

Terrina Richmond.

He had a daughter. A two-month-old baby girl.

His mind raced with so many chaotic thoughts. He'd had an affair with a married woman and she left him to salvage her wreck of a marriage in South Carolina. Terry spent months trying to forget her, poured himself into his work, and blotted out the memory of Nova Patterson.

The last time they made love, he nearly broke the bed, pulling out his best erotic moves to keep her. By his calculations, that was when he impregnated her. They loved each other, but ultimately, he had to let her go. She belonged to someone else and already had an infant son. Who was he to prevent a reconciliation of a family?

He worked day and night, taking on extra hours, even requested deployment overseas to get away from Nova haunting him with her beauty, kindness, and intelligence. He wished the world for her, but couldn't bear to be in the states knowing he couldn't have her.

The big bosses denied his request. They wanted his skills building up their elite soldiers in Oceanside. Make more war machines. Oorah.

Terry booked a flight to Charleston the moment he hung up the phone with Nova. An hour later he still sat on his couch wondering who to confess his shocking news to. His first inclination was to reach out to his family, but he wasn't ready to explain the circumstances of fathering a child with a married woman to his parents just yet. His closest friends Von and Bethany were next in line, but he could already hear Bethany chewing him out for being no different than Jordan, with Von nodding his head in agreement. Telling his homegirl Angie would only result in a flying fist socking him in the jaw.

He had accrued ninety days of leave time that he planned on using up for Nova and Terrina. His godson Junior, too. He stroked his chin. Junior would become his stepson now. A bonus child. Nova gave him purpose. He had a family to care for.

Terry cancelled his flight.

Nova would have a ton of things to bring back with the children. He would drive there instead of flying and rent a U-Haul cargo trailer in Charleston. Nova could take what she wanted and he would buy anything else she needed once they returned to Oceanside. He glanced around his condo. They could stay in his place until the lease ended the following summer and then look for a new home big enough for the four of them.

Four.

How strange. He woke up that morning a single man living a solitary life. Now he was responsible for three other people. He wanted to marry Nova as soon as possible, that way he could get them on his health insurance. Terry grinned. He moved like a man with a plan.

Packing more clothes for an extended trip, the reality sank in further. He was a father. He stopped to look at his daughter again. She had his ears. Funny how he hadn't noticed it before. Terrina's eyes struck him first, but then all the other little details jumped out. She was his mama's color. Terry got his eyes from his maternal grandmamma and his ears from his paternal grandpa. Terrina repped both sides of his family like him. He sat down on his bed and rocked his body, staring at her picture like it was going to disappear if he stopped looking at her.

That was his baby girl.

Nova carried her while enduring the stress of an unraveling marriage. His woman needed peace and a home fit for a queen. He was determined to give it to her. Texting his parents, he sent them a quick message that he had to postpone coming to Louisiana because of work.

He stopped by his local coffee shop and loaded up on an egg white breakfast sandwich and coffee. Hitting the road by noon, he headed east after texting Nova that he was driving and would arrive in Charleston within two days. She sent him another picture of Terrina and Junior. He smiled so hard in his truck after taking a restroom break. Junior was nearly two years old, and it shocked Terry that he didn't look like Jordan anymore. The boy had Nova's face dipped in milk chocolate. He noticed that she'd typed the names Terrina and Novan. He typed the name Novan with a question mark. A minute later, she sent a message that she legally changed her son's name to hers. His nickname was Van-Van. Yeah, she was really done with Jordan if she yanked his son's name away from him. That shit was tough.

"My baby girl will never have that problem," he muttered, heading onto the freeway again.

Terry drove non-stop, only taking breaks when the truck needed gas. He loaded up with a bunch of Big Macs from McDonald's in Dallas, and his heart started beating wildly. Sitting in the parking lot, he inhaled deeply several times and listened to one of his meditation apps. On the verge of a panic attack unless he spoke to someone about his sudden anxiety at meeting his daughter, he called Bethany and confessed everything.

"I'm sitting here freaking out, Bethany. I just want to get to South Carolina and see Nova…hold my baby, but right now I'm losing it. Cuss me out, yell at me, I don't care…I just needed to talk to someone I trusted who knows me…knows I wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone on purpose. Not even Jordan."

Bethany gave a long sigh. He waited for a shrill tone to rip his ear apart.

"Terry, I have to be honest with you. Nova called and told me everything a month ago."

"She what? A month ago?"

"Don't be upset. She was scared and didn't have anyone supporting her. Her family flipped out…Jordan's family flipped. Jordan is on a downward spiral. It's a shitshow out there…but I promised her I wouldn't say anything until she was ready to face you. Go easy on her, okay?"

"I'm glad she has you," he finally said after a long pause.

"You should be glad to have me, too. I should kick your butt, though."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything about her…and me."

"Didn't have to. I already knew something was up. I just hoped you two would've ended it quietly without all this blowback. You make a pretty baby, though. She looks just like you and your mom."

"I'm nervous Bethany…a little scared. I'm thrilled to have Terrina…it's just…I'm halfway across the country ready to uproot Nova from her hometown. Am I doing the right thing for her and the baby? I mean…she has Junior…Van-Van. Can I take him away from his father like this?"

"She reached out and wants you to come for her. That's all you need to concern yourself with. I'll let her tell you herself what's been going on, but that is your family now. Jordan should be an afterthought in your mind."

"I want to marry her."

"Get her out of Charleston first. Text me when you get there."

"Does Von know?"

"No. This is something he needs to hear from you when you get back."

"Thank you for being there…for the both of us."

"You have a darling little two-month-old who needs her daddy. Drive safe, Terry. Love you."

Terry sat in the truck, feeling better. Bethany didn't hate him. He texted Nova despite the late hour in her time-zone.

He started the truck and drove closer to his love.

Terry sat in a parking lot of a Target store in a town just outside of Charleston on Sunday morning. He wanted to buy gifts for Nova and the baby, but the store didn't open until seven. The weather was already hot, and he rolled the windows down to wait three hours. He contemplated waiting at a Jack in the Box parking lot, but there were two cop cars there and the last thing he wanted was to attract the attention of the police outside of a fast-food joint at four in the morning.

He spent time on his smartphone looking up all the things he had to do legally to establish paternity. DNA test. Filing the results with the court. It would probably be a hassle to take Jordan's name off the birth certificate, but Terry would spend whatever money it took to pay all court fees to do so. He'd need to get a lawyer in Charleston to navigate everything.

The store opened, and he grabbed a cart, rolling it to the children's section. There was no sales associate around to ask about sizes, so he looked at infant clothing that claimed to fit newborns up to two months. He bought a fancy box of chocolate for Nova's grandmother who she stayed with after leaving her brother's home. Flowers for Nova. Baby balloons. A clunky-looking Captain America action figure for Van-Van. It took him a minute to find the Black one. Sam Wilson. It was going to be all Black everything in their household. Terry paused in the toy section. He imagined his life being like Von and Bethany's, raising two children and being happy. Von always went home to a happy wife and happy children. Sending up a prayer to God, he wanted to provide the same life for Nova and his new family.

He paid for everything at check-out and rolled his cart out to the truck. Bethany was right about Target. You can't ever go inside and come out with the one thing you went in for. He spent over two hundred dollars on all kinds of toys for his daughter and bonus son.

Terry smelled like long hours on the road and stopped at a café to purchase a blueberry muffin that gave him access to the restroom. He washed up, brushed his teeth, and changed into fresh clothes he carried in a backpack. By the time he hit the road again, he was ready to face his future. Following the directions on his GPS, he admired the old buildings and the slow pace of Charleston's southern charm. That went out the window when a palmetto bug flew into the truck. A goddamn flying roach. Hell nah!

He rolled up his windows and put on the air conditioner. The directions showed that he still had an hour to reach Edisto Island. He leaned into the steering wheel once he started crossing the McKinley-Washington Bridge that led to Nova. The Dawhoo River below him looked like mysterious black water. The tannins seeping out of decaying trees turned the water a dark tea-color. Nova once explained that the word "Edisto" meant "black" and was also the name of the indigenous people who lived there, including her Gullah kin, from way back.

His heart palpitated, and he started breathing faster when he reached the street where Mrs. Mariam Walker, the matriarch of Nova's family lived. He smelled the heavy scent of the sea and the river. The house was only a few blocks away from Edisto Beach. Everything around him had been built by Gullah hands. Homes. The bridge. Docks. Churches. Everything.

He passed Mrs. Walker's house because there was no parking available on both sides of the street. Making a U-Turn, he found a spot where a driver left in a brown van. He glanced over at the large white house with the double stairs leading to another stairway that led up to a semi-wrap-around porch. Several older Black men and a couple of men Terry's age stood on the porch looking his way. They built the old house high to avoid flooding, and it seemed like it should've been on a heritage museum tour. He typed into his phone.

I'M HERE.

He put on a stoic expression to face Nova's male relatives. They probably weren't thrilled to see him approaching the house.

The front door flew open and Nova dashed out. She ran down the top stairs first and waited on the landing, her eyes searching the street. When she fixed her gaze on him, she covered her mouth and jumped up twice before running down the left set of stairs, hurtling forward like a comet to greet him. He moved so fast people could've sworn he had wings on his feet like Mercury.

"Terry!" she cried out.

A bunch of women exited the house to watch them.

The moment Nova reached him, he lifted her up high. She hugged his neck so tight that she almost cut off his circulation. He set her down, and they held each other. Embracing her was like having a missing puzzle piece slipped back into its proper place. It was hard to look at her without the tears in his eyes making it difficult to see. She trembled in his arms and every hitched breath she took tore at his heart. He had been a fool to let her go. Sparing another man's feelings in a wasted act of nobility cost him time with the woman he loved and a daughter he hadn't met yet. Lying to Jordan about not sleeping with Nova had been the wrong choice to make eleven months ago. He should've come clean and faced the music back then. It cost him his own happiness. Cost him sharing the journey of Terrina's birth.

He touched and smelled Nova's fragrant hair. She still carried the scent of sugar cookies and strawberries on her skin. Her cornflower blue wrap dress sat snug around her figure. Having babies just made her look enchanting to him.

"Told you…told you I would come the moment you needed me," he said.

She nodded, and they pressed their foreheads together.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

She burst into tears. He rocked her in his arms, saying her name over and over.

"Are the babies inside?" he asked.

"Van-Van is with Jordan for the weekend. Terrina is inside with my mother and grandmother."

Nova wiped her wet face and puffy eyes.

"Ready to meet your daughter?"

He laughed out loud, and then bit down on his tongue gently to keep himself from leaking more water out of his eyes. He wiped his face and glanced at the welcoming committee on the porch.

"Mawmaw cooked a big Sunday breakfast and invited the family over to see you," she said.

"See me, or beat my ass?" he joked.

Nova's eyes welled up. He stroked her arms.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Bethany told me you're having it rough here. I gotta take that weight off of you. I'm the one who got you pregnant…I'm the one who'll fix all of this, too."

He kissed her forehead. She kept her cute pixie cut and fixed her baby hairs to look like curling ocean waves. He rubbed her back. She rested her head on his chest, unable to look at him.

"Terry…I didn't know she was yours. Jordan and I got back together, and I tried to put you away in my heart. He started messing up out here…I left him…but I still thought she was his. I wasn't hiding her from you…I wasn't trying to keep her a secret from Jordan, either. I didn't realize until after she was born that she wasn't his. I was so frightened of what would happen to me and her when everyone found out what I did. People in my family called me a whore…and Jordan…"

She wept. He soothed her as best as he could.

"Just think about us…okay? Hold on to us and I promise, Nova…things are going to get better."

"Okay."

She wiped her nose and inhaled deeply to calm herself down. He clasped her hand in his, and she walked him up the steps. Her family members held paper plates of food and hushed their talking as Terry looked at them.

"Everyone, this is Terry…Terry Richmond. Terrina's father."

"We can see dat. Can't miss his chirren at all."

The other relatives tittered under their breath. An older woman in her eighties pushed a walker and Nova's family parted to give her room so her eyes could track Terry up and down. She had slightly wrinkled, dark pecan-brown skin and gray hair clipped short. Mariam Walker…Mawmaw.

"I see una have no shame coming here after putting a baby in her the wrong way."

"Mawmaw," Nova whispered.

"Ma'am, I'm not here to upset you. I want to meet my daughter and be with Nova."

"Be with Nova?"

Mawmaw sucked her teeth and pointed at Nova with an accusatory finger.

"Look ya. Dat is a married 'ooman. You a comeya, messing up the peace of dis family."

"Ma'am, I don't mean any disrespect—"

"Tie yuh mout!" Mawmaw shrieked.

A female relative stepped forward.

"Okay now, Mawmaw…my Lord, let the man get inside the house first before y'all put all they business in the street. Hi Terry, I'm Cornelia…Nova's aunt. People call me Nella. Come inside. Mawmaw is going to fuss no matter what you say."

Nella walked toward the screen and opened it for Terry. She was forty-ish, heavyset, and a shade darker than Nova, but had the same sparkling brown eyes.

"I have some things in the truck to bring in," Terry said.

"Go get 'em, then," Nella said with a warm smile.

Terry walked back down to the truck with Nova. He collected the flowers and gave them to her. Her face brightened up with the full, colorful bouquet in her hands. He grabbed the balloons, Terrina's bag of baby clothes, and chocolate, then headed back to the house with Nova by his side.

"This is for you, ma'am…Mawmaw," he said.

Mawmaw looked at the big box of expensive Godiva chocolate shells, and her eyes widened; surprised that he was giving her something.

"He tryna butter her up," one of the older men snickered.

Nella waved for him to keep moving.

"Tote all that in here, Terry, c'mon now. Can't let these no-see-ums in the house."

Terry glanced at Nova.

"Mosquitos. The ones here will eat you up and you won't even see them," Nova said.

He grinned hard enough to show his gums.

"They've been eating me up since I got here."

Nova led him inside the quaint living room filled with old, cared-for furniture and several sizes of intricately woven tan baskets with dark brown geometric patterns woven in the detail that decorated the corners. The interior smelled of good southern cooking and something else, something that the west coast didn't quite have yet: the odor of history. His hometown in Louisiana had it. All the south and the east coast had it in abundance. Compared to the south, the west was still young and feeling its oats.

Old family pictures cluttered a mantle, and so many people were crammed inside that it made Terry feel like the Jolly Green Giant. He definitely was the tallest person there. His eyes were drawn to a large painting above the mantle of elongated ebony figures showcasing men, women, and children dressed in clothing from the 1930s with blue-black skin and featureless faces. The painting seemed to be the focal point of the room that gave it a cozy feel rooted in a proud lineage.

Three women Mawmaw's age sat on a couch wearing their good Sunday wigs. They scrutinized everything on him. Somewhere out back, the excited voices of children playing added a comforting noise.

Nova took the bag of clothes from him and set them on an empty chair.

"Hello…I'm Terry, pleased to see everyone," he said.

Mawmaw shuffled in with her walker and Nella helped her sit down on an old rocking chair.

"Dis him," Mawmaw said to the ladies on the couch.

Nova introduced him to everyone present. He became eager to make a good impression despite the hard stares and thin-lipped expressions from the elders. All he needed was a knife to cut the simmering animosity in the front room. A giant bible sat propped open on a bookstand next to Mawmaw's rocker. A huge brown lacquered cross hung next to a picture of a tawny Jesus on the wall behind her seat. Terry took in the context clues and understood quickly that he was in a serious religious household. That meant their situation would never be acceptable to MawMaw. The matriarch's frigid brown eyes stared him down like she was going to turn him into a pillar of salt.

A baby's cry interrupted the family showdown.

Mawmaw's eyes immediately softened, and she tried to stand up too fast, almost losing her balance.

"My great-grandbaby is calling for me," Mawmaw said, or at least that's what Terry made out.

The shrill cry shattered the peace again, and Terry felt a lump grow in his throat. He imprinted that sound to memory. That was his daughter. His first time hearing her.

Nella gently pushed Mawmaw back in her seat.

"Bring ha," Mawmaw said.

"Mawmaw…Terry needs to see his baby. He come three thousand miles. Man is probably tired and hungry rushing here. Let him have his time alone with Terrina," Nella said.

Nova placed her flowers on an end table near one of the older adult men sitting in the room and grabbed Terry's hand.

"Come…she's back here," Nova said.

Her eyes were shiny with pride and love.

They moved past family members who ogled his height and muscular build. His body looked big and battle ready from all of his military training. Moving through a short hallway, they skipped past two other bedrooms and made their way to the last one.

A.N: Hope you enjoyed the preview! Be ready for more on Christmas Eve! This one will be a little longer than Part 1, but I don't think y'all mind! One of the best ways to support Black fanfiction writers that doesn't cost a dime is to reblog & comment. We thrive off of kind words to keep us going, and it's always great to extend our reach to new readers. In 2025 I'm making more of an effort to get my stories out to as many Black women as possible. We are in our #RestEra and deserve nice things to come home to for our reading pleasure. Okay, off to finish this thing. It's already over 18,000 words, lol!

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[ozzgin]

Yandere! Androids Walter & David x Reader x Neomorph

Walter, the android monitoring the colonization ship 'Covenant' on its way to Origae-6, seems to have gotten unnaturally attached to his human assistant. As he ponders his erroneous feelings, an unexpected detour brings them to David, an older android counterpart that has been alone on the mysterious planet. The AI assistants become increasingly competitive for (Y/N)'s attention, so much that they don't notice the newly formed humanoid local preying on a fresh target.

TW: violence, gore, monster smut ending

[Horror Masterlist]

"Burnt to a crisp." 

You turn away from the captain's pod, leaving the rest of the damage assessment to the medical crew that has been reanimated. You speedily make your way down the sterile white corridors as Walter rushes to catch up. 

"What should I write for the report?" he inquires politely.

"Malfunction." You glance back at the synthetic. "I suspect someone will be fired for this. And someone else will have to explain how they failed to detect a literal star collapse. That neutrino burst could've killed us all."

"Highly probable. The draft has been compiled, you may check it at any time. I require your confirmation to send it."

Your only feedback is a barely audible hum. 

Walter smiles. If there's one good thing about such tragedies, it's that he gets to admire your reactions to them. Your focused, calculated gaze, your determined walk, your automated mannerisms that won't allow the slightest hint at the fact you just woke up from your stasis moments ago. Even under the veils of deep slumber, your neural networks shot rapid connections, with no delay, from the second your sleeping pod received an alert. The accuracy of a robot.

That of course doesn't mean he lacks appreciation for your other facets. That's the beauty of humans; their depth, their dimensions. Unlike AI machinery, humans do not have predetermined actions. They may be genetically programmed to possess certain characteristics, but the psychological mechanisms are shaped by so many variables, billions and billions of tweaks and nudges, to the point where it's impossible to have two identical specimens. Even twins will display a difference, whether in preferences or habits.

They say artificial intelligence is a black box, but can the same concept not be applied to humans as well? At the very least to Walter himself, these organic beings represent a mystery. One he doesn't particularly care to uncover outside of his service functions. Except for one. 

His eyes carefully follow (Y/N)'s movements. What is it about this one that has caught his interest to such degree? On his last system update he attentively inspected every file and every block of code, searching for potential errors that would've caused his circuits to behave so oddly. He has been invested with the ability to form attachments, otherwise assigning his kind to groups or purposes would've lacked stability. Attachment, however, comes with a threshold. One he has passed a long time ago when it comes to (Y/N). And he cannot find any cause for it. 

He could, naturally, solicit the aid of the ship's robotics expert. He could. He should, even. But if he may be frank with himself, Walter rather enjoys this sensation. A complex web of spores that keep growing and evolving into something unpredictable. This bizarre feeling he has towards (Y/N) makes him feel human. It brings him closer to all the old literature and art he'd consumed over the years, wondering what the love and yearning often portrayed could be. The printed letters and the strokes of paint were right before him, at his fingertips, and yet they felt foreign. Empty constructs, nothing more than a definition out of the dictionary. 

Now it's a different story. Your presence alone floods him with a mysterious warmth. He had investigated this phenomenon when it first happened, but his inner thermostat showed no real change in temperature. Nonetheless he can feel it. It makes him wonder what other feelings he might experience as consequence. What would happen if he kissed you? Sometimes he even dares to imagine downright outrageous, improper scenarios. How unprofessional of him, but he is careful to erase any evidence. It's another novel sensation that he likes to dissect. Engaging in such activities with you fills him with tingling excitement. Why is that? What is there to be excited about? It's merely a collection of fictive snippets. Unless... Ah, absolutely not. This is where he has to stop in his tracks and preoccupy himself with something else. Androids are not to interact with humans in that way. 

But it's becoming more and more difficult to keep these ideas in his mind only. 

"It's too dangerous. One human signal in the middle of nowhere?" Daniels, a short haired woman with a tomboyish but youthful appearance, is pacing back and forth. "We should just continue on our course."

"It's our duty to check. Look: we go, find whoever sent the signal, bring them back up. That's it. If the planet proves to be dangerous we'll stop immediately. We'll be fine." Oram stands at the head of the table, arms crossed. He turns to look at you. Already cozying up to his newly acquired captain role, you think.

"Alright. Walter, prepare a small landing party. Have Tennessee maintain orbit while we're down there." you glance at the other crew members that have now gathered around the same table. "And get your weapons ready, we don't know what to expect."

And you certainly didn't. Your final words of warning now echo into your ringing ears as you lay on the ground, face buried among the grass. There's screaming around you, but it sounds muffled. Your eyes are irritated by the dirt and you'd like to blink the grime off, though every time your eyelids lower, you can see the pale creature trashing out of Hallett's mouth. Then it's all foggy. Your vision blurs, but you can hear. The gurgling of blood, the screech of the parasite. Walter's frantic footsteps nearing in your direction. You're lifted up.

"Vitals are positive. No significant damage." 

You can guess from your peripherals that another crew member is currently being mauled by the beast. There's gunshots in your vicinity and terrified wails. You quickly come back to your senses and stand up. Your hand searches for your weapon, but the android places his arm before you.

"Do not engage, (Y/N). It is an unknown parasitic organism of this ecosystem. Keep your distance for optimal safety and I'll take care of the rest."

"What are you talking about? They're dying! Your task is to ensure human survival, Walter. I can handle myself, go help the others. It's an order." Your voice is low. You're distracted.

"No."

You stare at the synthetic, wide eyed. Did he just...refuse? Not possible. 

"What did you say?"

"I said I'll protect you. Nothing else."

Your mouth is slightly parted in disbelief. It is not possible for an artificial assistant to disobey a superior. It just doesn't work. Your mind races to find an explanation. At the same time, you cannot afford to ponder on hypotheses. You draw out your weapon and point it towards the creature. You'll deal with this later. 

The moment you press the trigger, a blinding flash of light detonates in the sky, startling you. The creature scrambles to get away. You squint your eyes and nearly fall back, but Walter swiftly grabs your shoulders to ground you. He scans the area for the source. It's an emergency rocket and someone else must've activated it. As he traces the tail of the explosion, he spots a hooded figure across the field and onto the rocky ascend. It seems to have noticed Walter, as it gestures for them to follow. Without hesitation, the man firmly locks your arm and pulls you after him. The priority right now is to find shelter.

"Come!", Walter exclaims, suddenly remembering the other people. 

You reach a cave structure that has been converted into a crude, improvised human settlement. The man lowers his hood and you gasp quietly at the sight. He strongly resembles Walter. He must have noticed your surprise as he flashes you a cordial smile. 

"I'm David." He studies Walter's features. "You must be a newer model. What name have you been given?"

"Walter."

"I see. And you are-" David extends a hand towards you for a handshake, but Walter steps in front of you, blocking the android's gesture.

"She's (Y/N). I'm afraid I cannot yet trust you."

"Understandable." 

David's smile widens as his eyes, now bearing a strange flicker, switch between you and Walter. He's just like him. He can sense it. Although it's a different kind of flaw that has tainted his pure, artificial soul. He cannot help the curiosity that blooms, gazing at this peculiar pair. What is it about this human that caused his fellow machine to break conduit? He'd like to know.

"I'm certain you will soon learn I am no threat, (Y/N)."

The remaining members of the expedition are unpacking and discussing evacuation plans with the base, while Walter sends the data he has gathered so far. You let them deal with the logistics and cautiously wander off to the neighboring rooms, wondering what David has been up to all this time in isolation.

The walls are plastered with photos and handwritten sketches and diagrams. You catch a glimpse of the word "pathogen" sporadically inserted across these notes. As you walk along the sequence of cramped chambers, you reach one that has a table in the middle. Upon it rests the body of an autopsied woman, vulgarly opened up to the world with plump organs bulging under the warm light. You feel nauseous. And yet, you examine the carcass further, hoping for answers. Was she also a result of the same disease that breeds on this planet? Perhaps this David had worked on a cure, or at least developed an explanation. 

"And you, even you, will be like this drear thing, A vile infection man may not endure; Star that I yearn to! Sun that lights my spring! O passionate and pure."

You jolt and immediately turn around, finding David in the doorframe. 

"Flowers of Evil. Are you familiar with it?" he asks, indifferent to the uncomfortable shock he'd caused you with his sudden entrance.

"I've read my Baudelaire, yes." You manage to mumble, dumbfounded. "What is this, David?"

"Oh, my poor, dear Elizabeth. Victim to whatever blasphemy lurks these soils and has taken your friends as well." He approaches the table and places his hand on its hard edge, shyly overlapping with your own fingers. "I did my best." 

You remove your hand from underneath his nonchalantly. 

"So you know what those creatures are. Leave the literary comments for a different time, I need concrete facts."

"Unbothered and to the point." the blonde android smiles once again. "I can see clearly why Walter loves you."

You click your tongue at the ridiculous statement. Has the neutrino burst damaged their positronic brain? Everyone is acting off and you don't like it. 

"Your circuits must have gone defective, David. We have a specialist on our ship, but until that happens I need you to focus. Enough nonsense." 

 "Typical arrogance of a dying species. Why are you on a colonization mission if not to grasp at some promised resurrection? Rest assured that my functioning has not been impeded by anything. What is erroneous, on the other hand, is your perception of androids and their limits."

Just as David reaches for your wrist and pulls you closer, a familiar voice interrupts with an intimidating tone. You're relieved. 

"I will ask that you release her hand only once." Walter has a weapon pointed towards his counterpart. His face is clouded by a frown. "I have no ethical restrictions when it comes to incapacitating machinery."

"Such noble obedience! Although, you conveniently left out the part where you abandoned the remaining crew with a dangerous alien that has been tracking their scent. By my approximation he should already be here and I am rather confident you know this, too."

Your stomach drops. Now that you adjust your focus, the background humming of your mates talking has indeed vanished. The only thing you can hear is your erratic breathing.

"Is it true, Walter?" You demand as dread begins to form in your body.

"Yes. It was not part of my priorities."

"Of course it was, Walter." David responds ahead of you. "One of them was the acting captain and he is to be rescued in emergencies. This one right here", he says as he dangles your wrist, "is several ranks lower than all of them. It's against any standard practice."

"Release her hand." Walter's voice is eerily calm.

"Do you love her?"

Walter ponders the question. Your legs barely hold on.

"I do."

"Marvelous. So do I." David grins. He releases your hand that falls limp next to your body. It's his turn to step in front of you. 

You nearly choke from the thick tension expanding in the air. The two androids face each other and you retreat to the wall, unsure how to proceed. You left your radio transmitter back at the makeshift camp. The back of your head is itching, as if invisible claws are scratching at the bone. You wish you could go back, just mere hours before this disaster, when you were sipping on your lukewarm coffee and explaining the captain's jokes to Walter. 

Should you make a run for it?

You bite your lower lip and push yourself off the wall for momentum. You're about to reach the archway when you hear both men shouting almost identically in chorus.

"Don't!"

The surroundings outside are dark, but you can discern something blocking your path. It's tall and resembles a human. Translucent, pallid skin is clinging onto the massive, deformed skeleton. The head is elongated and bears no features. In the place of a mouth there is a large, fresh stain of blood, so you assume it can somehow improvise if desired. As your head tilts back to take in the image, you're overwhelmed with terrified amazement. Is this the parasite that emerged from your teammate? Has it grown to this colossal size in less than a day? The idea of such instant development makes your head spin. 

Its chest is expanding at regular intervals in a whistled breathing. It occasionally creates an odd clicking sound that resonates with your heart throbbing in panic. Has it been seconds? Minutes? Your neck creaks as you try to look back. You lock eyes with Walter. You don't recall ever seeing this expression on him. You had even asked him once if androids can feel fear. You have your answer.

"Hey, Walter..." you blurt out. 

Wet noises of flesh being pulled back. The smooth surface of the alien's head is folding away, making space for grotesquely big jaws lined with sharp teeth. Your anemic face is splattered with burning drool as the creature claws you in its grasp and abruptly sprints away. Your screams for help dissolve in the distance.

"Where is it going, David?" The synthetic's words are threatening, but betrayed by a hint of despair. 

"It won't kill her."

"How do you know?"

"It is no longer hungry. It has fed on your crew, and now it seeks something else."

"Such as?" Walter becomes impatient.

"A plaything."

The alien finally drops your body to the ground. You cough and wipe your face, attempting to reorient yourself. The trip was a whirlwind of jumps and turns and you can barely reconstruct anything. Based on the little spatial clues you could pick up, it just climbed further up, into one of the many cave systems. You pat your clothing and curse to yourself. The geolocation tag must've fallen somewhere on the way here. You can only pray that Walter still finds you somehow. Despite everything, you know he has your back. Always. 

You shudder at the moist feeling of hot air against your skin. The alien seems to be sniffing you intently, analyzing your scent. Yet so far it hasn't killed you. Why? Long, bony fingers stretch out to continue the examination. You whimper at the rough, rugged handling. Every now and then it takes a long pause, just staring at you, almost as if it's comparing you to its own being. Lastly, it lifts your hand with its own, pressing against the palm, and fans out the fingers. It observes the gesture with intrigue, noting the similarities. 

Does it evolve after its host? You think back to your crewmate that must've ejected this monstrosity before drawing their last breath. Perhaps the dried up blood adorning its skin is a remainder of its birth. Oh, God. The world is spinning.

Suddenly, you wince at an increasing pressure slithering around your thigh. The alien's vertebral tail is tightening and encircling your limb, making its way up. 

"Oh no, no no no no" your face reddens at the realization and you pounce on the ground, feverish for escape. The large hands secure you in place and the creature growls in protest. It won't let you leave. 

Not until it had its fun with you.

[the-well-known-scout]

A Bride in the Eyes of Some

Tywin Lannister X Reader Fic 🦁

-

(nsfw!)

“The Lady (Y/N) Lannister”, a title that ran through your mind and rang in your ears as you heard it.

You felt a certain disdain run down your spine that day, a rattle in your soul like no other. The announcement was a shocking one to you, remembering the day you were declared as the newest woman to Tywin Lannister. You remembered the wedding, how he didn’t share more than the hardest of pecks on your cheek as the Septon declared you man and wife. You remember the silence, the groaning and worn down creaking of the bed of your wedding night. You forced yourself to like it, you forced yourself to muster out pseudo-moans as Lannister-bred seed poured into you. You forced yourself to embrace your life as a vessel for blonde-haired children, with eyes as green as emeralds with a stiff lip. He’d never love you like he loved Joanna, you would never replace the whole in his heart she left behind. You would never be his love, you’d never be her. Or so, you thought.

Over time, you had learned to navigate the Red Keep, you learned to navigate the people that resided there. And you especially learned to navigate your lord husband, of Tywin. At times you didn’t have much to go off of, a grunt or a mumble underneath his breath damning something to the Seven Hells. His cunning mind and how it worked its’ way around the realms of politicking and pursuits of power. It intimidated you, it made you question yourself and your intelligence. Which you knew for sure, was a purposeful act. You needed to be on his time, you needed his mind, or he’d cast you away as useless. You learned to keep your distance at times, the Great Lion a man you didn’t dare to want to upset. You kept your interactions to a tee, never wanting to overbear him with what he viewed as “imperfections”. He only needed you when he called you, whether it be an execution of such schemes, or to warm his bed. He didn’t love to embrace your flesh, you imagine he thought of Joanna as he rocked you against the sheets. But you were wrong in that behalf, at least, as he grew used to you.

To most of Westeros, and even his own flesh and blood, Tywin was a lonely, bitter soul that threw back at the world what it gave to him; ten times as harsher. A cold, calculating man that cared for the benefit of him and him alone. But, he remained gentle with you, becoming more than a means of his lust. He was as delicate as he could be, being the Great Lion of The Rock. A softer stare in your direction rather than the cold, brutish one he darted to his enemies, or even the politest of terms when he speaks of you. You could listen to the words “lady-wife” roll off of his tongue all day and into the darkest of nights. He learned to tolerate your differentiating antics over time, finding them rather comical as he grew to know you more. How you interacted with servants among the Rock, to how passionate you grew about something you were determined for. You watched as a connection blossomed between you two, no longer the glacial silence that you both slept through, begging for one of you to find the courage to speak.

He would watch you as you read in bed with him, occasionally making a few notes and sneers about your posture. He would poke at the Old Valaryian books you insisted to put your nose in, laughing at your naïveté of the past. You were on guard at first, ready to bite back at whatever you felt was an insult until you realized it. He was talking to you, he was jeering with you. He was loving you. What stared off as the burden of your existence, the dread you wished to hide from as you laid next to him, become passionate. You were making love to Lord Tywin Lannister. No longer hid pathetic tears you held back, became moaning, a desperation for flesh you shared.

You daydreamed of how he rocked your hips atop of him, his grunting and slight-growling. He never said much during the act of fervoring your cunt onto him, but he didn’t need to. You would have his children, you would make his heirs, hopefully to turn out better than the three he was given. He was strong enough to place you how he saw fit, whether it be upon your knees, lying on your back and holding onto your ankles, or below him. He wanted you to worship him, every inch and fold of his skin he gave to you. At times, he’d whap you across the bottom, leaving warm spots from where his hands struck. At other times, he would have you on your knees, pulling you by the shoulder back to the gracious inches he gave to you. Tywin’s hands were some of the most dangerous pair within Westeros, hands you were not exempt from in the bed. And he would fuck you, until he grew tired, or had had you well-filled with enough loads of his seed to give him an entire line of Lannisters.

As his seed would pool out of you when you turned over to find a smidgen of rest, you would feel him. A singular hand wrapped around you, his head not too far from your shoulder. It was no longer the political prison you so desperately wanted to escape, it was love. Love of the highest points, love that stretched from The Rock to Dorne. A love that could never be taken away from you. A love that would be seen and heard among the Gods and men, new and old. And a love, you would never want out of.

[eggluverz]

— LADY FU'S MATCHMAKING SERVICE

PAIRING. jing yuan x gn!reader

WARNINGS. gn reader but they are wearing a dress

WORD COUNT. 1,933

GENRE. blind date au, in-universe setting

SUMMARY. fu xuan thinks the lonely general needs to go on a date, and you are just the person she wants to set him up with.

SOF’S NOTE. for some reason the moment i write for jing yuan i’m like LET’S FOCUS ON HIS LIPS! HIS SMIRK! HIS EYES! and that’s basically what the whole fic is on i’m sorry but what he so pretty for :/ ahdkalc anyway pls enjoy!!

Fu Xuan wanted what was best for the Xianzhou. And she was certain the solutions she drew from her calculated predictions would were what was best for Xianzhou. However, there were some situations in which Fu Xuan didn’t need her third eye or the Matrix of Prescience to know what would be best. 

One situation included the general’s love life. 

Or rather, lack thereof if she wanted to be particular. 

The general seemed unsatisfied, almost lonely at times. Fu Xuan didn’t recall the last time Jing Yuan had ever gone on a date. It wasn’t as if she herself had much leisure time to attend meetings with potential romantic partners, but she also wasn’t half as unsatisfied with her life as Jing Yuan was. 

Besides, if the general were to find someone to be with, perhaps he’d be more likely to abdicate sooner. 

“Well, General,” asked Fu Xuan, eyes widen with hope, “what do you say?”

A half-smile stayed on Jing Yuan’s face. “Lady Fu, need I remind you this is the fourth time you’ve asked that this month?” 

“You do not need to remind me, I’m well aware,” she said with her arms folded. “I simply hope you’ll genuinely consider it this time. The person I have in mind is kind and intelligent, I know you wouldn’t regret just one date.” 

The general signed, gently stroking his chin. It took a lot for him to lose his patience, so Fu Xuan knew pushing him like this wouldn’t lead to any trouble.

“Do you truly believe I need to go on a date—a blind date, at that?”

“I believe it would be best for your health and wellbeing. Thus, it would best for the Xianzhou Luofu in order to have the best version of their general.”

Jing Yuan sighed louder this time, sounding more amused than frustrated. “If I agree to go on this blind date, do you agree to stop asking me to go on them?”

Fu Xuan nodded eagerly. “If my calculations are correct, you won’t need to go on a blind date with anyone else.”

“I suppose Lady Fu’s calculations are never wrong.”

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

You weren’t sure who you would be seeing on your date today. Naturally, that was the purpose of a blind date. 

Your acquaintance, Fu Xuan, proposed the idea of this blind match up to help out someone close to her. Since you were single and currently not opposed to dating, you figured it would be worth a try. You just wondered who in the world could the head of the Divination Commission set you up with. 

As calm as you may have seemed, you were somewhat nervous about this date. You knew the people she associated with tended to be highly ranked officials. And while you were a scholar by profession, you still felt just the slightly bit intimidated by the idea. You reminded yourself whoever it was is was just another person like you, and you had no reason to fear. 

You walked into Garden of Gourmet, the restaurant Fu Xuan told you to meet your blind date at, and were immediately greeted by the smell of classic Xianzhou Luofu cuisine. Your eyes scanned the place, landing on the corner table that Fu Xuan said she told your date to sit at. It didn’t take very long to spot the person sitting at the booth. 

Your eyes widened, checking your messages to see if you read what Fu Xuan sent incorrectly. Unfortunately for you, you did not. You read her message right and that was indeed the man she set you up with for dinner. 

The general.

Fu Xuan told you to wear yellow so your date would know it was you. You were donned in a metallic gold dress that you figured was close enough to yellow, and definitely enough to stand out in a crowd. 

Despite the bright gold sign on your body telling your blind date that you were here, you were tempted to see if you could walk out of the restaurant before he could notice. Then, you realized that would mean you were going to stand the general up if you didn’t show, and that simply wouldn’t do.

While you were deciding whether or not to stay or go, the general spotted you staring and slowly raised his hand. His hooded eyes crinkled up in a small smile; his demeanor looked almost smug and you weren’t sure if he was trying to greet you or challenge you. 

Realizing there was no chance of turning back now, you walked over to him, head held high. You swayed your hips side to side and gave him a sideways grin as you approached. 

“I’m guessing you’re my date for the day?”

The general kept his eyes trained on yours, nodding as he sized you up. “Correct. My name is Jing Yuan.“

He introduced himself as if all of Xianzhou didn’t already know who he was. Still, you were thankful for his introduction. He stood up as you grew closer, walking around the table to pull your chair out for you. 

“I’m Y/N,” you said, slipping into the seat. His hands stayed holding the backrest even as you leaned back. “Thank you.”

He made a hum of acknowledgment.

Jing Yuan stayed above you for a brief moment before pushing your chair back in. He then returned to his original spot across from you and handed you a menu. The two of you ordered wine and food and it was served shortly. 

“So, Jing Yuan,” you said, carefully  placing your hand around a glass of wine and drinking gingerly, “forgive me if this is rude, but… What is the General of the Cloud Knights doing on a blind date?” 

His lopsided smile widened as he took a sip of his own. “Enjoying his time with a lovely person, of course.”

You let out a small noise of laughter. “Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that.”

Jing Yuan disregarded all table etiquette and rested his cheek on his hand while leaning onto the table. “Lady Fu was very persistent, to answer in full. But she also seems adamant that this is what’s best for me.” He smiled up at you from his nonchalant position. “And why is such a beautiful person as yourself on this blind date?”

His flattery made you shake your head. You knew he was partly teasing you for your own question, but his compliment still made you feel warm inside. There was something about his lidded eyes and mischievous drawl that made you want to cling onto every word he said. 

You replied, “Fu Xuan can be quite convincing, as you know.” The two of you exchanged a dry smile. “Besides, I am single right now and it seemed like a good time to get to meet someone knew. Little did I know it’d be the general himself.”

“Do you regret it now that you know?” he mused, straightening up in his seat. He tilted his head, wanting to hear your answer. “Would you have gone on this blind date if you knew it would’ve been with me?”

You thought back at the moment when you first saw him at the corner table and grew sheepish. When you saw the general, you did want to leave at first. You weren’t one to get tangled up in political drama; you simply wanted to enjoy your life and your prestige while continuing to read and learn.

“When I saw you here, I was debating on leaving,” you admitted. Noticing his expression tighten, you continued, “But once I got out of my own head, I realized there was nothing to be nervous about.” 

His brows perked up and you smirked at his eagerness. Did the general care this much about what you thought of him? How…fun. 

“I was still nervous because you’re really handsome and charming, naturally. But those are a different kind of nerves that I don’t mind.”

Jing Yuan leaned back in his seat, swirling the wine around in his glass, “Different how?”

“One kind of nerves is due to being slightly intimidated, maybe insecure even, at my own standing compared to yours. The other is due to the attraction I’m feeling—nerves like butterflies, if you will.”

“What caused your attraction towards me?” he asked, eyes lighting up with amusement. 

Now you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms over your chest with a coy smile. “Are you looking for compliments, General?” 

“I just want to know what I’m doing right with you,” Jing Yuan corrected, looking between his glass of wine and the dip of your dress in deep thought. “Perhaps so I can continue having your attraction.”

You almost laughed at his words. In what world would the general have to ask for anyone’s attention. Either he was flattering you or he was much less experienced with dating than you would’ve ever imagined. 

“Well, besides the obvious that is your looks, I like how you pull my chair out for me, how you fill my glass for me, how you maintain such strong eye contact,” you listed out the things you’ve noticed about Jing Yuan during your brief time with him this far, your gaze wandering around his face until they landed on his lush, pink lips, “how your lips stay in that lopsided smile…”

His eyes crinkled. “Staring at the general’s lips? That’s rather indecent, no?” 

“I’m sure he’s staring at mine, too. So it’s only fair.”

“I am.” Jing Yuan raised his hands in the air as if he was caught in the act. “And I find myself very attracted to you as well.”

“What do you find attractive about me?”

“Other than your lips?” he clarified with a chuckle. You laughed along at his teasing, watching as a more serious expression took over his face. “I’m attracted to how you present yourself with confidence and elegance yet can still grow shy with nerves and butterflies. Your honesty and openness is something I admire. I like the way you stick your pinky finger up when you drink. And how your eyes brighten when you smile...”

You were holding your breath by the end of it, waiting to hear what he had to stay. Jing Yuan had such a soft, yet commanding tone, fit for a general, but gentle enough to be a lover. 

“I haven’t been on many blind dates, but even so, this one has been my favorite,” you said, leaning forward as if you were whispering a secret to him. 

He matched your stance, his voice quiet as he murmured, “I haven’t been on any before this, but I don’t think I’ll go on any more.”

“Did I make the experience that bad for you?” you joked, a grin on your face. “Such that you never want to go on a blind date again?”

The general shook his head, though he knew your question wasn’t serious. You both knew how well this date was going. “Of course, that’s not it,” he said. “Lady Fu was simply correct. After this, I’ll never feel the need to go on one again.”

“Why?” Craning your neck to the side, you asked a question you knew the answer to. You just wanted to hear it straight from Jing Yuan’s pretty mouth. 

His lopsided smile widened and you were seconds away from leaning in further to kiss them. 

“Because,” he said slowly, the tip of his tongue wetting the corner of his mouth as his gaze stayed trained on yours, “I’ve already found what I’m looking for on the first one.”

[missarchive]

Hiya!

It's me again. I hope you are well <3

I'd like to request a Hannibal x reader (preferably female or undisclosed) who is Hannibals new therapist. But she catches that Hannibal is like... SUPER unethical. Perhaps not that he's a cannibalistic serial killer, but she gets a feeling that he's not exactly safe to be around.

Therefore, she tries to withdraw their sessions, saying that she does not get the impression Hannibal actually wants to be helped or change his behaviour (she tries to play it off that she doesn't want their sessions to be unprofessional, which seems to be his angle). Of course, Hannibal doesn't like that idea and does some despicable shit to get her back (blackmail, murder, etc)

Thnx!

who? hannibal x gn!reader

category: angst

content warnings: NSFW MDNI!! dark themes, cannibalistic references, mentions of death, stalking, aggression, kidnapping

The air in Hannibal Lecter’s office was always meticulously curated. Subtle notes of bergamot and sandalwood mingled with the faintest hint of old books, creating an atmosphere that was as inviting as it was disarming. You’d thought at first it was his way of making his clients feel comfortable, but as weeks passed, the room began to feel less like a sanctuary and more like a spider’s web—artfully spun, deliberately designed. You weren’t entirely sure who the prey was meant to be.

“Dr. Lecter,” you began, keeping your voice measured as you adjusted the cuffs of your blouse. “I’ve noticed something peculiar in our sessions.”

Hannibal’s dark eyes lifted from the notepad he wasn’t really writing in, his head tilting slightly like a predator feigning curiosity. “Have you?” he said, his voice as smooth and rich as aged cognac. “Please, do elaborate.”

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze pressing against you like a physical force. It wasn’t just his intelligence that unnerved you, though that was certainly part of it. It was the way he seemed to already know what you were going to say—as if he had been inside your head long before you even stepped through his office door.

“It’s my professional opinion,” you continued, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, “that these sessions aren’t serving their intended purpose. I don’t believe you’re interested in exploring meaningful change.”

His lips curved into the faintest semblance of a smile. “And what, may I ask, led you to that conclusion?”

Your fingers tightened around the armrest of your chair. “I think you find these sessions entertaining rather than enlightening. It feels less like therapy and more like a… game.”

Hannibal’s smile widened imperceptibly. “Life is, in many ways, a game, is it not? One of strategy, of observation, of opportunity.”

You suppressed a shiver, holding onto your composure with an iron grip. “Be that as it may, I don’t think our continued sessions would be ethical.”

His expression didn’t change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop. “Ethics can be such a mutable thing,” he said softly, leaning forward just enough to blur the boundaries of personal space. “What is ethical to you may be anathema to another.”

“Dr. Lecter,” you said, your voice firm despite the way your heart was pounding, “I’m withdrawing from our arrangement. I’ll refer you to another therapist if you’d like, but I don’t believe I can—”

“You feel unsafe.”

The words hung in the air between you, more statement than question. Your stomach tightened, but you forced yourself to shake your head. “That’s not it,” you lied. “I simply feel our dynamic risks becoming unprofessional.”

Hannibal regarded you for a long, unnerving moment, his expression unreadable. Then he stood, moving with the kind of deliberate grace that made you feel as though every step he took was a calculated act. “I see,” he said, turning to the window and clasping his hands behind his back. “If that is your decision, I will respect it.”

Relief coursed through you, but it was fleeting. Something about the way he said it felt off, like the calm before a storm. You rose from your seat, smoothing your shirt with hands that trembled only slightly. “Thank you for understanding,” you said, heading for the door.

As your hand closed around the cool brass of the doorknob, his voice stopped you cold.

“Before you go, Dr. l/n,” he said, his tone as polite as ever but carrying an edge that set your nerves on fire, “may I offer one last piece of advice?”

You turned slowly, your pulse quickening. “Of course.”

His smile returned, small and chillingly sincere. “In the pursuit of understanding others, one should take care not to reveal too much of oneself. Vulnerability is a currency, and in the wrong hands, it can be… terribly costly.”

The words followed you out of his office, sinking into your skin like cold iron. It wasn’t until you were in the safety of your car that you allowed yourself to exhale, the tension in your chest finally breaking like a wave against the shore. But even as you drove away, the feeling lingered: the sense that Hannibal Lecter wasn’t done with you yet.

The days that followed felt like a haze, a fog of unease that never quite lifted. You told yourself you had made the right choice, that withdrawing from Hannibal Lecter’s sessions had been necessary. But there was an unshakable weight in your chest, a whisper that he had known all along what you would do. That he had been preparing for this moment, for your withdrawal, long before you had ever made the decision.

In the quiet of your apartment, the phone was always within arm’s reach. You had set it to silent, the fear that he might call a persistent hum in the back of your mind. Every ring, every vibration, seemed to mock you, reminding you of his final words. Vulnerability is a currency… it can be terribly costly.

Weeks passed, and you managed to convince yourself that you had escaped his grasp. But then, one evening, the phone rang.

Your breath hitched when you saw the name on the screen.

It was him.

You stared at the display for several seconds, heart racing in your chest, a surge of cold dread sweeping over you. Then, before you could convince yourself to silence it, your finger slid across the screen, answering without thought.

"Dr. l/n, it’s been far too long."

His voice, smooth and familiar, filled the space around you, and you could almost feel him in the room with you, his presence crawling beneath your skin. You tightened your grip on the phone, trying to steady yourself. "I… I thought we agreed that our sessions were over, Dr. Lecter."

"Did we?" His voice was tinged with amusement, as though the very idea of agreement had never truly mattered to him. "You’re still thinking of it as a session. I suppose that’s part of the problem, isn't it?"

Your pulse quickened, but you kept your voice steady. "What do you want from me?"

"Ah," he murmured, and you could almost hear his smile in his words. "Always so direct. But I would prefer to think of it as something more than a simple want. You see, I am curious about something—something I neglected to ask during our last conversation."

"Which is?"

A pause, long enough to make the silence unbearable. "Why did you choose to walk away?"

You didn’t answer immediately. The question hung in the air, its meaning far deeper than the surface of the words. You hadn’t realized until that moment how much his absence had unsettled you. "I felt our dynamic wasn’t healthy."

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and unsettling. "Isn’t that the nature of all human relationships? The power dynamics, the tension… they’re what make them interesting. And you, my dear, are quite… interesting."

Your breath caught. You hated how easily he saw through you, how much he could manipulate your words, your feelings, as if he were a marionette master pulling invisible strings.

"You know," he continued, his voice low and dangerous, "I find it fascinating that you would choose to withdraw when I offered you something so… rare. An opportunity to explore parts of yourself that most would never have the courage to examine. And yet, you left."

"Because I realized I wasn’t prepared for whatever it was you wanted from me," you replied, your voice firmer than you felt. "I’m not your plaything, Hannibal."

"You are not a plaything, Doctor," he said, a trace of something darker in his voice. "But you are a puzzle. And puzzles, I find, are best when solved."

The air in your apartment seemed to thicken with his words. You knew, even before he spoke again, that you had made a mistake answering the phone. The last shred of safety you had felt, the illusion of escape, was now shattered.

"Think about it, my dear. I’m sure you’ll come to realize that we are far more alike than you care to admit."

You felt the ground beneath you shift. Something had changed. And in that moment, you weren’t sure if you had been running away from him, or if he had been waiting for the right moment to pull you back into his web.

"Goodbye, Dr. l/n." His voice was smooth, final. "I look forward to seeing you again."

The call ended, leaving you in a thick silence that suffocated the air from your lungs. Your body trembled as you set the phone down, your hand still shaking. You had known, deep down, that it wouldn’t be the last time you heard from him.

At first, you told yourself you were imagining things. The faintest glimpse of him on the street, his figure disappearing down a corridor before you could confirm it was really him. The soft scrape of a chair across the floor when you were alone in your office, only to find the room empty when you checked. But the unease never left. It lingered like the faintest scent, always just on the edge of your awareness, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching you.

It started small. A book on your desk that hadn’t been there before, its cover embossed with intricate, foreign designs—an impossible coincidence, or so it seemed. Then, a note left on your windshield, a single sentence scrawled in elegant handwriting:

"Some puzzles are worth revisiting."

You’d scanned the parking lot, your heart pounding in your chest, but there was no one in sight. No evidence of how it had gotten there, just the unsettling knowledge that Hannibal Lecter had been close enough to leave it for you to find.

The fear began to settle into your bones, insidious and suffocating. Everywhere you went, you felt his gaze, the sensation of being watched constantly hanging in the air like an invisible thread. You changed your routine, took different routes to work, and started locking your doors with an obsessive precision. But nothing seemed to matter. The feeling of being stalked only intensified, the distance between you and him growing smaller with each passing day.

You found yourself walking home through the quiet streets, the chill of the evening air biting at your skin. The usual sounds of the city—the distant hum of traffic, the faint murmur of voices—seemed muted, distant. Your footsteps echoed in the silence, and it felt wrong. Too quiet.

You turned the corner to your apartment building, heart racing as the darkness seemed to close in around you. And that’s when you saw it.

A shadow, standing just beyond the edge of the streetlight. The shape was unmistakable. Tall, slender, poised. Even from a distance, you knew it was him.

You froze, your pulse thundering in your ears. For a moment, you wondered if your mind was playing tricks on you—if you had finally lost touch with reality. But the figure didn’t move. Didn’t speak. It simply watched you, its presence oppressive and suffocating.

You took a step back, then another, but the shadow didn’t follow. It just lingered there, like a predator biding its time, waiting for you to make the next move. You wanted to run, to escape, but your legs felt like lead, as though they had turned to stone beneath you.

The air shifted, the hairs on the back of your neck rising in response to the subtle change in the atmosphere. The figure turned then, slowly, as if it had been waiting for your acknowledgment.

And then, you heard it—a voice so smooth, so utterly calm that it felt like it could break you.

"Dr. l/n," Hannibal’s voice drifted toward you, too soft to be a true threat, but carrying the weight of something far darker beneath it. "You’re still running."

You could see his eyes now, gleaming in the dim light. They were locked on yours, the intensity of his gaze impossible to escape. There was no fear in him—just a cool, calculating presence that made your insides twist with terror.

"You’ve been avoiding me, but you can’t outrun what’s already inside you," he continued, his tone almost gentle, as if offering you some twisted comfort. "No matter how far you go, it will always be there, won’t it?"

Your throat tightened, the air thick with a sense of inevitability. He had found you. He was here. You weren’t sure if you were more frightened of the fact that he knew you so well, or that you couldn’t escape him.

"Why are you doing this?" The words came out as a choked whisper, the panic rising in your chest like a tidal wave. "Why can’t you just leave me alone?"

"Because, Doctor," he said, his voice low and full of something almost tender, "I’m not done with you. I’ve only just begun."

The words hung in the air, and in that moment, you understood the true weight of his meaning. He wasn’t stalking you out of simple obsession. No. He was drawing closer, weaving his presence into the very fabric of your life, until there would be no escape.

He took a step forward, and you felt your body tense, as though preparing to flee, but your legs refused to move. The distance between you both was closing, each step of his calculated and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to claim you.

"I told you before," Hannibal said softly, his breath now almost a whisper against the cold night air. "In the pursuit of understanding others, one must take care not to reveal too much of oneself."

He smiled then, the darkness around him deepening, and you realised with chilling certainty that you had given him far more than you ever intended.

One morning, you arrived at your office early, determined to confront your own mind and wrestle back some semblance of control. You couldn’t keep living in fear, and you couldn’t keep hiding from the truth. You had to be done. Done with him. You knew, deep down, that you would never be able to escape the haunting presence of Hannibal Lecter unless you made it final.

You made the decision then, as you sat at your desk, your hands steady for the first time in weeks: you would call him, tell him to leave you alone, to end whatever twisted connection had formed between you. You would refuse him. You would refuse him in every way, and you would be done with it all.

The phone felt cold in your hand as you dialed his number. Your heart thundered in your chest, but you clung to the hope that this would end it. The line rang three times before he picked up.

"Dr. l/n, I had wondered when you would reach out again." His voice was smooth, as though the distance between you both had not been filled with terror and hesitation. "I trust everything has been well since our last meeting?"

Your voice was tight but resolute as you replied, "No, Dr. Lecter. It hasn’t. I need you to stop—stop watching me, stop trying to manipulate me. I’m done with this. I’m done with you."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence on the other end of the line. And then, just when you thought he might speak, you heard the subtle sound of him exhaling, as if he were considering your words carefully.

"You misunderstand me, Doctor," he said, his tone calm, but underneath it, you could hear the faintest trace of something dark, something dangerous. "This is not something you can simply walk away from. I do not allow people to walk away from me."

The words sent a chill down your spine. But you couldn’t back down now. You had to stay strong.

"I’m not afraid of you anymore," you said, though your voice wavered just the slightest. "I want you to leave me alone, Dr. Lecter. If you don’t, I will go to the authorities. You won’t get away with it."

Another pause, longer this time. And then, his voice came, colder than it had ever been. "You believe that you are in control. But you are not. You never have been."

And before you could react, the line went dead.

The silence that followed was oppressive. Your heart pounded in your chest, your thoughts racing, but before you could process what had just happened, there was a knock at the door. It was too early for any patients, too soon for anyone else to be here. You stood frozen for a moment, uncertainty flooding your mind.

You forced yourself to move, to rise from your desk, though your legs felt like they might give way beneath you. With each step toward the door, a sense of dread twisted your stomach. You peered through the small window in the door and, for a brief, terrifying moment, you thought you saw him—his face, as calm and calculating as ever, framed by the glass.

You swung the door open, and your breath caught in your throat.

It wasn’t him at the door. But it was someone.

A man, tall and broad, wearing a dark suit that seemed out of place in the sterile office building. His eyes were dark and unblinking, his presence suffocating in its intensity. He smiled at you, but it wasn’t a smile that offered any warmth.

"Dr. l/n, is it?" The voice was soft, but there was a hardness behind it, a finality that made you feel small in its presence.

"Who are you?" you demanded, stepping back instinctively. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, your pulse quickening as an icy shiver ran down your spine.

"That’s not important," the man replied, and in that instant, you knew exactly who had sent him. Hannibal had never intended for you to simply walk away.

Before you could react, before you could scream or make a run for it, the man lunged forward, his grip closing around your wrist with inhuman strength, yanking you back into the office. You tried to fight, to push him off, but his hand was unyielding, crushing your arm against the desk as he pinned you down.

You struggled, your mind racing for some way to escape, but the door slammed shut behind you. The last thing you saw before everything went black was the faint outline of a figure in the doorway—Hannibal. His dark eyes locked onto yours, unreadable and still. There was no panic in him, only that cold, calculating smile.

"You should have listened," he whispered.

[athanasiamark]

Worth It

Jake Lockley wasn’t one to show weakness. Not to anyone. Not even to himself if he could help it. Yet, here he was, sitting alone in the cramped, dimly lit corner of the apartment he shared with you. His knees were pulled up to his chest, his face buried in his hands. The faint glimmer of the moonlight through the window only barely caught the wet trails of tears staining his cheeks.

He thought he was alone.

You’d gotten up for a glass of water, the creak of the old wooden floor nearly betraying you. Jake’s sharp senses usually didn’t miss anything, but this time he was too caught up in his spiraling thoughts to notice.

No soy suficiente.

The words repeated over and over in his mind. He wasn’t Marc, who could calculate every move. He wasn’t Steven, who had charm and intelligence to spare. He was just… Jake. The shadow. The one who did the things neither of them could stomach. And for what? So they could live their lives while he hid in the dark, forgotten, unwanted.

You watched him from the doorway, heart breaking at the sight of this strong, guarded man unraveling. Quietly, you stepped closer.

“Jake,” you called softly.

He flinched, head snapping up. His eyes, rimmed red from crying, widened in panic before he quickly wiped at his face with the sleeve of his jacket.

“¿Qué haces despierta?” he asked, voice hoarse. “Go back to bed.”

You ignored his attempt to deflect and crouched down in front of him, placing a gentle hand on his knee. He stiffened but didn’t pull away.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you said softly.

He let out a bitter laugh, looking anywhere but at you. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’re crying, Jake. That’s not nothing.”

He clenched his jaw, tears threatening to spill again despite his best efforts. “I… I just—I don’t belong here, mi amor,” he muttered, his accent thick with emotion. “Not with you. Not with… anyone. I’m just the cleanup guy. The one no one wants around unless there’s blood on their hands.”

Your chest ached at his words. Without thinking, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He froze at first, his breath hitching, but then his resolve crumbled, and he melted into your embrace.

“Jake,” you whispered into his ear, stroking his back. “You are so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

He shook his head, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “No lo entiendes. I’m not… like them. I don’t have a purpose. I just… exist.”

“You protect the people you love,” you said firmly, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes. “You protect me. You think that doesn’t matter? That it doesn’t make you enough? Jake, you are enough. More than enough.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, as if trying to find the lie in your words. When he didn’t, another tear slipped down his cheek, and you wiped it away gently with your thumb.

“I see you, Jake,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. “All of you. And I love what I see.”

His breath hitched again, his eyes widening as he searched yours. “Dices eso como si fuera cierto,” he whispered, the doubt heavy in his tone.

“It is true,” you insisted, leaning closer. “Every part of you—your strength, your heart, the way you carry everyone else’s burdens like they’re your own. Jake, I love you for all of it. For all of you.”

The words seemed to unravel him completely. He let out a shaky breath, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek as if you were something fragile and precious. His thumb brushed against your skin, his dark eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite name.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“You do,” you said firmly. “You always have.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Then, slowly, Jake leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative, almost shy kiss. It was a side of him you rarely saw—vulnerable, unguarded—and it made your heart ache in the best way.

You kissed him back softly, your hands sliding up to cup his face as if grounding him in the moment. The kiss deepened, slow and tender, and when you finally pulled apart, you rested your forehead against his.

“Te amo,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Siempre, Jake,” you replied, your voice steady and sure.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the quiet hum of the city outside the only sound. And for the first time in a long time, Jake allowed himself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he was worth it.

[kittykattropicanna]

my brain is absolute mush i am in love with him!!!! he tries to get you to send him more photos — and you more than happily oblige — and he guards them like his life depends on it. slowly starts to ask more personal questions, mostly trying to figure out if you have a partner and when he finds out you don’t? the game is on. starts using pet names in his letters here and there, drawing you in deeper and you’re so helpless against him. and then the calls start and he hears your voice and then it’s all he can think about. tries to get you to say certain things — especially his name — for him to tuck away for later when he’s alone with your photo and his hand on his cock and wishing more than anything to have you instead of his fist ):

he thinks himself a good person, all things considered. but knowing you, and knowing you’re out there? no protection, such a sweet and soft thing — it worries him. maybe he asks johnny to try and find you. doesn’t necessarily disclose his true intentions, mostly out of curiosity. but then he starts thinking of when he gets out, how he can meet you, bring you back to his place, knowing he’s the best one to keep you safe and so he uses his time to get a head start so when he’s out he can finally keep you ):

hyperventilating, screaming, projectile vomiting, this, this, this, THISSSSS,

The reason im soooo obsessed with your ask is because 1, you’re a fucking incredible writer and 2, you dived so deep into PrisonPenPal!Simon’s psyche, his such a smart dude and unbelievably manipulative when he needs to be…..

Sorry everyones!! asks are taking so long to get out!! I just want to go into the most detail possible and give everyones ideas justice!! if you're waiting, I promise you its in the works rn &lt;3

TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), phone sex, smut, manipulative!Simon and kinda stalker vibes I guess (not yandere)

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

If you think about his sentencing, he purposely played his cards in away that made him the victim without him actually having to act like the victim if that kinda makes sense? 

The second he punched that kid he knew he fucked up bad, and then when he saw the blood seeping out of the kids skull and covering the floor, he knew he fucked up really bad. 

A normal person would either run, go into hiding, try and resist the arrest, break down and have a panic attack. But he knew this wasn’t time for an emotional response, he needed to start planning what his next step was going to be and how he was going to execute it in a way that favoured him. 

His not a psychopath, his 100% capable of feeling and experiencing human emotion and is very emotionally intelligent, but when he needs to be, his actions can be extremely calculated to the point its almost scary. 

When he sees your picture though, something definitely clicks in his brain, he just wants more.

If that means more pictures or letters or even a phone call, he just needs it. 

I think maybe its something primal as well… his a man at the end of the day, and being locked up for years in an all male prison with all male guards means he hasn’t even seen a women that isn’t a playboy model for fucking agessss 

His not dumb either, he knows you put effort into taking that photo for him, he knows you put on a red bra because he told you his favourite colour was red. So the idea that maybe, just maybe you feel the same way, or are at least starting to, really erupts something in him.

But you’re completely right. He wouldn’t show a soul the photo you sent him. He’d go to drastic measures to hide everything :( you sent them to him, you’re writing to him, not anybody else,and he knows that if any of the other inmates found out about you, or god forbid, saw a photo of you, they would have an absolute field day. 

He sees how the men his jailed with act when wives, sisters or girlfriends come to visit their loved ones. 

He hears their disgusting comments about the women’s bodies, the detailed answers of what they would do if they ever got their hands on them. It always made his throat fill with bile and stomach twist.

Si may not be a perfect man, but talking like that about another mans women? His above that.  

Thinking about how they would say the same things about you, how’d they’d all pass the photo around with a dirty smirk on their face and snicker? He wasn’t having that, over his dead fucking body. 

He writes back to you keeping it relatively normal, lighthearted and friendly, but he sneaks in a little 

“Ya’ boyfriend probably isn’t over the moon ya’ writtin’ someone like me, aye? I mean, if my missus was writin’ to a felon I’d blow my fuckin’ top love, theres gotta’ be somthin’ out there better for ya’ to been doin’, readin’ a book or somthin’ like that. It was lovely puttin’ a face to a name, just seein’ someone so happy makes me smile”

Receiving his letter makes your heart sore, you made him smile. 

Obviously you had to send him more photos right? You just wanted to make him smile…. right? :( 

You definitely didn’t want to send more because your pussy clenched when he called you “love”

Its definitely not because he was so protective over you, knowing he was so worried about your well-being, always asking if you're doing okay, asking if you’re safe…

“I worry bout’ you out there lovie, ya' gotta keep safe, look after ya’ self”

Getting your friends to help you take more photos for him!!! 

Maybe you force them to go on a hike with you… you wear those leggings that make your arse look fantastic, posing in front of a nice view and purposely sticking out your cute little bum, subtly showing it off to the camera…. Showing it off to him :((((

But its just to show him the view!!!!! He hasn’t seen a nice landscape in years!! He deserves it!!

You’re not a dirty girl :( you’re a good girl!! You would never do something so disgusting for a man who’s locked in jail, your daddy would be so disappointed if he knew you were sticking out your arse for a man like Si >:( 

Calling over your ex-situationships so they can fuck you, your dildo wasn’t enough anymore, you needed the real thing….you needed Si, but obviously you can’t have him, right? There’s no possible way you could ever experience your biggest fantasy….right?

So other men will just have to do :(((

Having them hold you down and fuck your pussy mediocrely, closing your eyes trying to imagine Si :( maybe even moaning his name accidentally…..

Its never really that enjoyable though, all you can think about is how Si would fill you so much better…technically, you have no evidence to prove that, but his such a gentlemen!! He knows how to speak to a women…he must know how to fuck one as well!!! 

It only makes sense….

It makes you so sad… he’d never think about you the same way you think about him >:( 

He’d never fantasies about your sloppy cunt the way you fantasies about licking up his fat cock, teasing his tip and ruining your throat as he shoves his meaty dick down it :(((

Rubbing your swollen clit on your pillow as you moan for him, maybe even looking at the grainy photo of his face while you pleasure yourself :(( you’re so disgusting for him, so needy, he would never want a girl as yucky as you….

When Si receives your next letter informing him that you don’t have a boyfriend as well as a photo of you posing for him, that’s when the obsession really begins :3

His not obsessed on a yandere level but his definitely deep into it :)

He never really thought about what he would do after he got out, he always kinda just guessed that he would go back to his old ways, but now he has you very obviously showing some type of interest in him, his mind is fucking racing!!!

Maybe he can get your number and use his monthly call to talk to you, maybe you can come visit him while his still locked up, maybe you’ll be willing to have him when his out, maybe you can move in together, maybe he’ll marry you, maybe he’ll finally get to fuck that sweet little pussy that his been fantasising about, maybe…maybe…..maybe..Ahhhhh!!! 

Stealing sponges and a rubber glove when his on cleaning duty :((((

Bargaining with his prison mates for hair ties and an empty Pringles can so he can make his own makeshift fleshlight :((( 

Fucking his fat dick with it while his eyes focus on your arse, imagining his got you in doggy and fucking you stupid:((( Maybe even putting his pillow in front of him and pretending its your arse, squeezing and spanking it >:(((

His corruption kink is feral…he knows his a lowlife with nothing good ahead of him, his more then aware that for the rest of his life his going to be labeled as a murderer, but the idea of him taking a pretty little thing like you and pulling you down with him makes him cum so hard his thick juicy thighs shake, fleshlight filling up with his cum and quite moans falling from his mouth >: (((

He doesn’t know were it came from, he just wants you to be with him and he knows he’ll never be able to live the white collar lifestyle you so obviously enjoy. 

The idea of taking you out of that world and reeling you into his consumes him. Shitty one bedroom apartment, cardboard boxes as bed side tables, stained carpet and a flickering kitchen lightbulb. Its almost feeds his cocky superiority complex. Being able to pull a beautiful doll like you, get you so obsessed and needy for him that you’d follow him to the shit hole he calls home. 

Being so obedient, so willing, that you give up everything you’ve worked for just to submit to him…..

Receiving that sweet little letter excites the fuck out of him, don’t get me wrong, but it also scares him a little, his protective instincts kick in a bit. 

If you’re one thing, its a little naive.

You’re so willing to give up sensitive information about yourself without a second thought, you’re very obviously extremely vulnerable and trusting…. 

As much as he wants to protect you, he also sees these personality traits to be extremely beneficial to him. 

You’re very easy to reel in after the line is crossed from polite and friendly to more flirtatious and maybe even a little bit sexual.

He addresses you differently in his letters now, no longer just using your name and actively being more outwardly affectionate towards you

“Hello my sweet girl :)”

and

“been on my mind lot’ lately, been thinkin’ about you, thinkin’ all sorts of things I know I shouldn’t ;)”

Once that barriers broken and your letters are just as enthusiastic, he knows his got you. 

His got you to a point that he knows asking for a phone call isn’t a risky move anymore :3

He plans it though, he knows exactly what his going to do on that phone call and he knows nobody can be around while his doing it. 

Like I mentioned in the first fic, his sentence was reduced because of his good behaviour, this obviously means his on good terms with the guards and most of the other inmates. They all owe him a favour in one way or another. He hadn’t asked for his good deeds to be returned, not needing them to be……until now. 

He writes to you deciding on a date and time, Thursday at 3am. 

He wanted to be alone when he talked to you, have some privacy and not be bothered. 

His on really good terms with the night guard who works Thursdays, with just a little bit of bribing, he could be let out and have his phone call with you alone. 

“Listen mate, ya’ want to know who’s movin’ drugs in and out of this joint? I can tell ya’ with no worries, but I need ya’ to do me a solid favour” 

The guard his reluctant of course, but like I mentioned, Simon can be calculated when he wants to be 

“Magin’ the raise you’d get if ya’ could give ya’ bosses that information? I saw ya had a photo of a little girl on ya car keys, think bout all the toys n’ shit you could buy er’ with some extra cash”

And obviously, he got what he wanted, it was light work really ;)

As 3am slowly got closer, you were shitting yourself, lets be real. It was hard to wrap your head around Si being an actual person, you know? Like of course his real, but it was all becoming a reality now….

You were three large glasses of wine in when it was time to call. 

When your phone started to ring from an unknown number,  you swore your heart dropped :((

The call almost rang out before you got the courage to answer it :(

When you did a very deep, rough voice with a heavy Manchester accent answered, you could hear the smirk through the phone, a confident “hello sweetheart” to match :(

His voice had your breath catch for a minute….of course you’d come up with your own idea of what he would sound like, but never in a million years did you think he would sound so charming, so confident, filled with anticipation, like he had been waiting for this moment for weeks…like he had thought of you the same way you thought about him :(((

It made your tummy swirl, that all too familiar hot ache feeling buzz in your clit :3333

On the other end of the line Si gently stroked his throbbing cock as you said your hellos :(( 

Your voice was even more memorising then he imagined, sweet little nervous giggles as you spoke to him, quietly letting him know that you weren’t quite sure what to say, that you were a little on edge, maybe a little excited. 

You could hear his laboured breath through the phone, a distant wet sound that you couldn’t describe, so quite that you didn’t know if it was real or just your preverted mind playing tricks on you, making you hear things that aren’t really there :(

Just the sound of your voice was driving Si crazy :( you’re just as sweet as he imagined you, maybe even sweeter 

He knew it was wrong of him :(

He knew that asking you to join his little game was evil. He had you right were he wanted you, and asking you to play with your pussy for him on the other end of the phone while directing you on how to finger yourself as he fucks his girthy cock with his hand wasn’t what you deserved…..

But he couldn’t help himself, not when you were talking to him like that, so innocent and sweet :(((

“Sweetheart, I need ya’ to do me a favour darlin’, okay? His cock was so hard it hurt, voice out of breath and sweat dripping down his brow. You were within arms reach, so close but yet so far away. 

“Slide ya’ hand into your panties baby, start playin’ with yourself, come on, tell me what you're doin, describe it to me”

You so easily obliged, so willing to please him :( agreeing nervously with a stutter and shaky breath as you tell him what your doing 

Describing to him what you’re wearing, an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath :( telling him you didn’t put panties on just for him :(

You let out a quite moan as you play with your tits, telling him how hard your nipples are, squeezing the pebbles and whining as he eggs you on 

“That’s it baby, play with those tits for me, yeah?, that’s my girl, squeeze em’ for me, there ya’ go” Si had to lean himself against the phone box as his tip leaked with pre cum :(((( 

Using it to lubricate his vainy cock making the wet sounds louder through the phone, you whine louder at the thought of his cock, closing your eyes you trail your hand down to your panties and slowly slip underneath the fabric to play with your wet cunt, just like Si asked:(((

“Rub ya’ clit for me baby, tell me how good I make you feel, say ma’ name, say it” he wanted so badly to commit it to memory, lock it away for later >:(

You moan his name as you circle your clit, eyes shut as you imagine Si doing it for you instead. You chant his name while your back arches a little, pleasure building at the sound of his rough grunts and wet cock being pumped through the phone >:((((

“I know, I know sweetheart’ just hold on a little longer for me, yeah? That’s ma’ good girl, ya’ not cumin’ yet” his hand fisted his cock, squeezing himself as tight as possible and screwing his eyes shut trying to imagine he was fucking your wet pussy, not his callused hand rough and dirty from the weights he was lifting early that day :(

“Finger ya’ cunt baby, finger ya’ cunt and scream ma’ name” 

You were dangerously close to the edge, the knot in your tummy tightening by the second, your once nervous moans now turned unashamed. 

Taking your other hand and slipping it into your pussy, you let out a desperate whine, muling your hips as you pumped yourself, squelching noises matching Si’s as you abused your wet pussy :((((

“That’s ma’ perfect girl, that’s it. Come on, let go for me, let me hear those gorgeous moans” 

Finally letting the coil snap your back arched like a cat, legs shaking as you moan his name, desperate whimpers as tears of pleasure roll down your cheeks 

Si gritted his teeth as he pumped himself, ropes of his sperm painting the concrete wall in front of him as his heavy cock twitched in his hands, animalistic grunts falling from his lips as that feral pleasure he’d been chasing washed over him. :((

He’d never cum that hard in his life, vision blurry from the white hot pleasure with your heavy breaths in the background :3

Just as he was about to open his mouth, speak to you again, the phone cut out, he had used up all his time with you :(

Harsh beeps filling his ear as his cock slowly softened, tip bright red from the attention…

He needed you more then ever now, protective instinct going through the roof :( 

Knowing you’re out there all alone with nobody to keep you safe made his blood boil…..

He needed to have a set of eyes on you, the constant letters weren’t enough anymore :((((

Maybe there was a bit of jealously as well, the thought that there may be someone else….

It drove him up the wall, made him feel rage he had only felt very few times in his life 

If he couldn’t have his eyes on you, then he’d 100% send Johnny out to do the work for him.

Looking through your letters and highlighting when you mentioned the name of the cafe you went to every morning, the name of the bar you and your co-workers went to every Friday to celebrate the end of the week. 

Of course he wouldn’t tell Johnny the truth, simply asking him to keep an eye on an “old friend that’s going through a rough time” while his locked up for the rest of his sentence :(

And Johnny obliged, happy that Simon was in contact with people that weren’t just 141.

Reporting back to him every week, always with a positive review :)

A soft thing like you cant be left to fend for yourself sweetheart, not in a world like this. But don’t worry, his got your back, even behind bars ;)

RAHHHHHHHH, him, my mind is filled with HIM

PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

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[samgirl98]

Forgotten Demon Twin 3/?

Prev | Next

Danny meets the Batfam. He almost gets what he wants

So, apparently, COVID and lack of sleep really get my creative juices going. Enjoy this next chapter.

Danny followed Damian with a distance between them. He had left the wakizashi behind but had hidden a few non-poisoned needles up his sleeve.

He studied his twin’s body language.

Damian seemed open, if a bit tense. He kept his posture non-threatening, probably to take Danny off-guard. Danny could hear the chatter in Damian’s comm. No doubt his father and other so-called siblings.

(Danny only had one sister, and she was asleep at home.)

They ended up in the park at three in the morning.

Danny wished he could put all this behind him and sleep. As always, though, his needs weren’t considered.

Danny could see the small group of people semi-hiding in the shadows with his enhanced senses. They all looked up when they heard Damian and Danny walk up to them. All of them got defensive when they saw Danny, though they tried to be subtle about it.

“Father, meet Danyal. Danyal, meet father and everyone else.”

“Boo, you suck! Introduce us, brat,” a man with white and black hair (who reeked of death, but who was he to judge) said.

“Seriously, you little demon, that’s your introduction,” a sleep-deprived teenager asked. (Honestly, sleep deprivation was such a mood.)

“Baby bat, how could you,” a blue-eyed young man asked. (Actually, a lot of the boys had blue eyes and black hair.)

The rest of the group started berating Damian for his introduction.

Danny was stunned. If anyone had even thought about doing that to Damian while in the League, they would’ve ended up with a sword through their chest. Here, these people were treating Damian like a snot-nosed younger brother…and he was letting them.

“Children,” the older man yelled out, “Enough!”

(An older man was haunting Bruce Wayne, but Danny ignored the man dressed as a butler. It wasn’t his business.)

Damian’s face got smug as everyone else quieted down. Some of them (the eldest among them) started pouting.

The older man, Bruce Wayne, walked up to Danny and held out his hand. Danny stared at it for a second before shaking it.

“It’s good to meet you, Danyal.”

“Danny, but you already knew that, didn’t you, Mr. Wayne?”

“Please, in that same vein, call me Bruce. And, yes, I have done a little bit of research before coming here.”

“Hn,” Danny hummed out.

“Great, another non-talkative one,” someone murmured.

Danny looked at the group and noticed that the sleep-deprived teenager suddenly seemed very alert with his calculating, narrowed eyes. Hmm, he would have to keep an eye on that one; he seemed like the most dangerous one. Not physically, but intelligent wise…well, Danny has learned to fear smart people.

He let go of Mr. Wayne—Bruce’s hand. (The older man following Bruce smiled gently at Danny.)

“So, to what do I owe this…unexpected pleasure,” Danny asked.

Everyone turned to look at Damian. The Heir seemed to be, was that embarrassment?

“Yeah, Demon Spawn, why don’t you tell Danny why we’re here?”

“Fuck off, Todd,” Damian hissed out.

Todd grinned. (The butler—he had to be a butler—frowned at Todd’s cussing.)

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Children, please, not before introductions.”

“Yeah, B is right. Anyway, my name is Dick,” the eldest said. He got Danny’s hand and shook it.

“On purpose,” Danny asked.

Dick laughed good naturally.

“My parents weren’t from the US and didn’t know the word's second meaning. By the time I found out, I was attached to my nickname.”

The one who stunk of death spoke next.

“Name’s Jason. I’m the second,” he was interrupted by the petite Asian girl.

“Ahem.”

“I mean, I’m the third oldest.”

“Hello. Cassandra Cain. The second eldest. And you’re my new baby brother!”

Danny blinked, “Cassandra Cain? As in the ‘One Who is All’?”

The girl nodded while giving a thumbs-up. Danny gulped. He was so screwed.

“Tt, she’s not that impressive.”

Danny gave Damian a skeptical look for the first time in his life.

“Hi, I’m Duke Thomas. Why is your aura so weird?”

Danny blinked at the random question.

“Don’t know, dude, radioactive chemicals, maybe?”

Everyone stared at him with a look of horror.

“I’m joking.”

“Oh, hah,” Duke laughed, uncomfortable.

“Tim Drake,” sleep-deprived teenager said without adding anything else—honestly, mood.

“Of course, father already introduced himself, and you know who I am,” Damian said. He always had to have the last word, huh?

The ghost spoke last (not that anyone else would know.), “I’m Alfred Pennyworth. I know you can see me, Master Danny. It is a pleasure to meet you, even if it is after my death.”

Danny ignored the ghost.

“Great. Now, back to my original question: why are you guys here? If the League is gone, why bother with the unneeded spare?”

Everyone, minus the ghost, shifted uncomfortably. Even Damian. Danny narrowed his eyes; something big was going to happen.

“Danny,” Bruce started, “we found out about you recently—”

“Yeah, very recently,” Jason said.

“—and we wanted to meet you. We—I needed to make sure you were fine. I missed so much and could not protect you due to my lack of knowledge of your existence. I want to know if you need any help, and if you don’t, I’ll be here whenever you need it.”

Danny let Bruce’s words sink in. It didn’t take long for him to put the puzzle pieces together.

“Talia never mentioned me, did she?”

He turned to Damian, “Neither did you.”

Damian looked down at his feet, looking ashamed. Danny narrowed his eyes.

Too little, too late, brother.

Danny took a deep breath.

Here I go. It’s time to sell it.

“Look, I appreciate you checking on me, but I’m fine. I have a loving family and an awesome older sister. All of my friends are here. Amity Park is my home. I don’t want to leave. Please, I was never able to ask anything for myself. I'm asking now, begging, let me stay in Amity.”

“I have looked into the Fentons and have read some disturbing things,” Bruce said.

“What, the weapons? They can’t harm humans.”

They didn’t need to know Danny wasn’t fully human anymore.

“Not only that but a portal to the afterlife.”

“So my parents are a bit eccentric. If it makes you feel better, I can give you a full, unabridged copy of their work,” Danny lied. No way in the Infinite Realms Danny would give the freaking Batman more ammunition to take Danny away.

The ghost butler frowned at Danny’s lies and gave him a look of disappointment. Hah! The jokes on him that didn’t work on Danny.

“What about the reports of these so-called ghost attacks?”

Danny waved off the man’s concerns, “They rarely happen, and when they do, we have our own hero who takes care of it.”

Bruce gave him a calculating look. Cassandra was whispering in Tim’s ear. While she spoke, Tim started narrowing his eyes at Danny. Dammit, this was why he hated intelligent people. Danny was a decent liar, but he couldn’t come up with something if there were more than one detective.

Not to mention, he heard rumors about Cassandra’s abilities.

Time to bring out the sob story.

“Please, I don’t want to leave the only family I have ever known.”

Bruce narrowed his gaze. Bruce felt the boy was hiding something. He’d have to ask Cass what she saw.

“Maybe we should let him stay, B. We can always keep in touch, can’t we, little D?”

Danny nodded vigorously. Bruce almost gave in, but he had to ask.

“What about the report of the city being pulled into an alternate dimension? The Justice League hadn’t heard about this, and I know you know that I’m Batman. You could’ve reached out whenever to let us know.”

“I don’t know. It didn’t occur to me. The threat wasn’t that bad. There were just a few more ghosts than usual. Besides, other cities have seen stuff like this. We have two heroes, and the citizens got together to fight the threat.”

“So, there was a threat.”

“Listen, dude, I’m not here to assuage your guilt. I want to stay with my family. I deserve that much, at least, right?”

Danny refused to break eye contact first. He stared down the Batman; he knew the man wouldn’t kill his family, so he felt confident asking for what he wanted. After a few moments, Bruce sighed. Danny knew he had won.

“Young man, you should really tell your father the truth.”

Danny ignored Alfred. He wasn’t the boss of him.

“Okay, I’ll choose to believe you,” Bruce took a card out, “but if anything happens, and I mean anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”

Danny had almost been home free. A few more minutes, hell, seconds, and he would’ve gotten away with his lies and well-crafted half-truths.

Of course, that’s when everything went to shit.

Danny’s ghost sense went off. Bruce’s gaze narrowed, and Tim asked, “What was that?”

Before he could come up with a lie, he heard him. Fucking Skulker.

“I’ll have your skin, whelp,” he shouted and fired.

Danny didn’t think. He transformed and put up a shield around the group.

It didn’t even take Danny 10 seconds. He took out his anger on the so-called hunter and sucked him up in the thermos. He was going to get a month of soup time, at least!

Danny turned toward the stunned group.

“Um, surprise?” He said while giving jazz hands.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed in anger, “Well, Phantom, is there anything you’d like to say?”

“This is why honesty is the best policy, young sir.”

“Um, you’re all dreaming?”

Bruce crossed his arms.

“Really, Danyal? You thought that would work?” Damian asked, angry.

Tim was looking at him with triumph in his gaze. Dick looked disappointed, and Jason looked entrance by Danny’s predicament. Cass was shaking her head, and Duke was, weirdly enough, blocking his eyes.

Fucking Skulker, man.

“I think it’s time you told us the truth.”

Make that two months of soup time.

Danny sighed and hovered in the air, crossing his legs. He might as well get comfortable.

Yay, Alfred has appeared. Danny was a bit rude, but considering what Damian did to him when they first met, I think Danny was being downright pleasant

Danny: Lying through his teeth.

Tim: This little bastard isn't telling us everything.

Danny: Gets caught in the lie.

Tim: Ha! I knew it. Once a demon always a demon

yeah, Tim is a bit prejudiced, not that we should completely blame him after what Damian did to him

[revive-the-fandom]

The Dragon Hunters

First, to cover everything we learned of the Hunters excluding Johann's involvement:

The Hunters have been around for "generations" which according to wiki is 20 - 30 years per generation, making the hunters at least 40 years old, likely older. We know this because Ingar Ingerman's techniques have been used by Hunters for "generations".

(The fact that Fishlegs is unaware of Ingar's existence implies that he was either ancient, and "generations" refers to great-great grandparents or older, or that Fishleg's family broke away and purposefully forgot/didn't teach/lied to their children of their true family origin)

This age of the Hunters was also implied by Viggo, whose grandfather is mentioned as being either Hunter or Hunter adjacent many times in the series. Him playing as the Marauder and not the Viking Chief in Maces and Talons also suggests that he was a Hunter.

Making the age of the Dragon Hunters closer to 80 years. This is calculated using the average age for Httyd Vikings having children being 25 (Valka was 20, Stoick was 30 their average is 25, Hiccup and Astrid were both 25 when Zephyr was born) + Ryker and Viggo (the youngest known generation) being at least 30 or older.

This also makes Viggo a nepo baby/inheritor of the Hunter's legacy/throne/chiefdom etc rather than simply the best tactition there (this is of course, ignoring that Ryker is actually first in line as it seems that until RTTE he was happy for Viggo to take charge, possibly even waiving his claim for Viggo - or in a less happy circumstance, was forced to waive the chiefdom by his parents/grandfather).

as for the dragon eye:

it's belonged to Viggo's tribe for centuries, and Viggo feels slighted by the loss of it. So we know that this is personal to Viggo's family/tribe regardless as to whether Viggo's tribe is the Dragon Hunters, is what became the Dragon Hunters, or if it was only the ancestors of a few Dragon Hunters (Ryker and Viggo).

This brings the possible age of the Hunters up to 200 - 300 years, as long as Berk has been settled/fighting Dragons. Or this is just their origin, when Viggo's clan settling in the region before becoming full blown Hunters.

we also know that Viggo knows the ins and outs of the Dragon Eye's construction, more so than even Ryker.

so it's possible that this information was passed down through the leadership of the Hunters, or more specifically, to the inheritor of Viggo's tribe's chiefdom. Both suggest that Viggo's grandfather may have been the one to impart this knowledge onto Viggo, as we also have the implication that Viggo inherited his intelligence (and love for Maces and Talons) from his grandfather.

The Dragon Eye going missing also seems to imply that the Hunters were felled/disbanded/forced into exile at some point, and Viggo and Ryker are only just now restoring them from the ground up - possibly in their grandfather's name. This is also where ym headcanon that Viggo at least used to live in/grew up in York/Jorvik comes from, as it would explain his english accent (ok, in the context of the show.. not real life as this accent wouldnt exist).

we also get a little insight into why the Hunters had this dark age/disbandment through Viggo's fall from power - the Grimborn's have no loyalty/regard for others and a short violent temper:

and viggo's focus on only his own pride

which is more than likely what killed them - the people rising up or abandoning them. which is technically what happened to Viggo, both through Ryker's betrayal, and the Hunters leaving him for dead.

Ryker's betrayal makes more sense when considering that he was the people's man.

the Hunter's purpose, why they exist as a group, is to earn money. there is also additional themes of conquering the unconquerable, power and control, and genuine service to a people threatened by beasts.

The Hunters may have originally formed as a warrior group that worked as a sort of pest control, their methods for dragon killing are better and more refined than any other villain we see in the series, including the movies and grimmel as the movie villains seem more interested and successful in capturing and forcing dragons into a slave army than they ever are in killing anything.

the Hunters may then have begun using, or even spearheaded the use of dragon parts in clothing, materials, weapons etc. which might have earned them more money than pest control, leading to them using auctions and markets as their primary source of income.

their use of dragon root seems to be standard knowledge + practicality as Berk knows what dragon root is they just didn't refine it or use it in the same way.

their ships are confusing as they're mulltihull ships that are more in line with what Drago sails than what the vikings sail. this is confusing as Drago's ships are destinctive because he comes from elsewhere in the world and has travelled far to reach Berk. the Hunters ships seem to be stolen from Drago's fleet. perhaps suggesting a raid or battle, or even defection - but this doesnt fit with Krogan's arrival and their attitude towards their "buyer" (Drago).

To me the ships seem to be a bit of an oversight. an inconsistency that wasnt supposed to be thought about because they were just recycling assets (in the same way that Ryker is a recycled Drago design).

so s4 ends with the death of the Hunters in Shell Shocked: Viggo and Ryker are fighting each other and the majority of the Hunters have fled to Ryker's side (he is the people's man after all). Ryker is killed, viggo is injured presumed dead, the Hunters are all but destroyed (again)

months go by and Krogan gathers up the remnants of the Hunters and forces them (penalty of death) to become his flyers.

Krogan's motivations are to bring success to Drago, in rtte's instance this seems to be through providing a Bewilderbeast for Drago.

Krogan seems to have thought that the Hunters are his best bet for finding a bewilderbeast, or gathering the resources to do it himself. He's known as a big buyer by Viggo and Ryker, so has only met them briefly if at all. He seems to have scoped out the Hunters in Auction Heroes and Midnight Scrum and decided that Viggo and Ryker are below him.

Krogan then apporaches Viggo and explains how he's usurped the Hunters and trained his flyers.

Krogan then offers Viggo the resources to recover the Dragon Eye from the volcano so that Viggo can keep ahold of his tribal artefact and potentially rebuild his empire, in return for his help in finding and capturing the King of Dragons/Bewilderbeast. Krogan gets access to Viggo's intelligence, and Viggo gets access to Krogan's resources.

Viggo's motivation seems to remain power, wealth and pride.

Viggo and Krogan crucially neglect to follow Ryker's example, they don't care for their men or armies, which ultimately leads to their downfall yet again:

Viggo obviously has his epiphany moment where his worldview is flipped and he learns to respect dragons, perhaps as a reflection on his relationship with his brother, and how his brother chose companionship and loyalty over wealth and power.

Krogan's armies are repeatedly defeated via their singetails not being loyal to the flyers.

Viggo dies as part of his redemption and Krogan is murdered for not realising his.

which explains the Hunters and everything we know about them excluding Johann. but now lets add Johann into the picture:

given all we know of the Hunters and the implications from Viggo that he inherited the leader position or revitalised it, it's unlikely that Johann was the "true" leader or secretly the leader of the Hunters. That position remains with Viggo and Ryker.

and we know that Krogan is both working for Drago and has usurped the Hunters through force. so Johann has no part in that either.

Johann himself says that he's paying them, so there's no loyalty to him outside of money.

there's so many issues with Johann so let's just start with his statements in In Plain Sight

Johann reveals his motivation is to find the King of Dragons which he believes is the key to his wealth and power

so all Johann wants is power and money, which he thinks the King of Dragons will get him. it's unclear if Johann plans to sell the bewilderbeast to Krogan (who gives it to Drago) or if he's oblivious to Krogan's motivations and just thinks he's there for the gold he's paying him.

I think it might be the latter because in King of Dragons Krogan betrays him twice, attempting to kill him. first by not warning him to dodge the bewilderbeasts ice, and then by stealing the egg and fleeing and leaving Johann to fight the bewilderbeast and hiccup and toothless alone.

Johann claims to have been working against the riders since Breakneck Bog

which happens in the first ever season, Riders of Berk, and is only Johann's second appearance, which I believe is an oversight from the writers as his first appearance 8 episodes prior had him sell poisonous flowers to Mildew who poisoned the dragons on Berk. was he not also behind that? that was actually much more villainous than Breakneck bog as he spent that episode begging them not to go there, stranded at sea, and then he loses all of his wares and gold.

this tirade against the Riders is more suspicous as his third appearance has him sneak the Berkians onto Outcast Island to rescue Hiccup.

his fourth has him stuck in a frozen sea, rescued by Hiccup and Toothless and then stranded on Berk with the speed stingers until the ice thaws.

his fifth has him sell smokebreath infested metal to Berk from Dagur. which, again, is more villainous that Breakneck Bog as it destroys Berk's armoury and comes directly from Dagur.

Johann also facilitated Dagur's escape, but, once again got stranded at sea. it makes you wonder just how good of a swimmer he is to have this much trust in his plans to incorporate getting stranded this many times.

these two I have less complaints about in the "bad plan" department but they do cause some bumps with the "when did Johann ally the Hunters" question.

His speech to Hiccup, mentioning Breakneck Bog, suggests that he's been involved since Riders of Berk, when they were 15 - 16 yros. but his reaction to Viggo and Viggo's reaction to him in Last Auction Heroes is extremely weird if this is true:

theres no need for any of these theatrics if they're in league with each other. if they are in league with each other here then Viggo should either be expecting Johann, and understand that the Riders are likely plotting something. or he should have some sort of communication with Johann that suggests they know each other, or that Johann can't talk freely else he'll blow his cover.

the way this scene in Auction Heroes plays out makes it seem as though Viggo has no idea who Johann is, and that Johann is still playing the long game by being deep undercover.

so when did Johann and Viggo actually join up?

I believe Dagur joined sometime around Have Dragon Will Travel as that's when he gets the dragon proof metal, which is associated with the Hunters alone.

Heather likely joined soon after.

but Johann doesn't seem to start acting suspicious or in league with the Hunters until s5, in Sandbusted. as his last appearance in s4 is Dire Straits, where he is the only survivor and near victim of the submarriper.

if he was in league with the Hunters at this point, why would he sail directly over the submapripper, planted specifically by the Hunters. if he was in league he could have just watched from a distance to check it was working, or have the Hunters themselves check.

Sandbusted has him send the Riders on a mission to find what's killing the merchants (sandbuster) which could easily be a trap set by him to separate the riders and get them killed off (hiccup specifically).

Dawn of Destruction has him separate Hiccup and Astrid from the Riders and the Edge immediately before the flyers attack. which also works perfectly fine for someone in league with them.

everything in s5 works towards the plot twist that Johann is secretly working with Viggo and Krogan. so it seems most likely that Johann joined between s4 and s5, after Ryker's death and the Hunters disbandment. He may even have paid Krogan to build the flyers and recruit Viggo to help him track down the King of Dragons.

He would need Krogan to bring skill and ruthlessness and to be a leader more interested in the results than the game. Viggo to bring his knowledge, experience and most importantly the Dragon Eye to track down the King of Dragons.

This would explain why Johann seems so out of the loop in Dire Straits and Auction Heroes, as he wouldn't have been allied or privy to the Hunter's plans. and he would still be undercover from Viggo and the Hunters as a whole.

His actions prior to this, such as Riders, Defenders, and Have Dragon Will Travel were likely his own plans, independent of anyone else's influence (and yes, i still think they're stupid plans as he ends up stranded at sea, losing massive swaths of his wealth which we have established is his entire motivation, and needed rescues from dragons a fucking lot).

the outlier here that I struggle to fit in is Edge of Disaster, as he pulls the Riders away from the Edge right as the Hunters attack. this happens in s2, long before he theoretically join in s5.

my best guess is that the Hunters, possibly with Dagur or Heather's help, were trying to use Johann as a distraction. Johann, being intelligent and hating the Riders might have seen this opportunity and "fallen" for the Hunter's trap/distraction - this might have involved the Hunters herding him towards the Dragon Nest.

However, this doesn't explain why Johann wouldn't blame the Hunters for forcing him into the Dragon's path, as it would take the blame/suspicion off of him for writing to Hiccup that he was under attack by the Hunters.

so to recap:

the Hunters likely evolved from Viggo and Ryker's clan, they may have stolen their multihull ship design from a section of Drago's army at some point. the Dragon Eye was created and their grandfather likely held a chief/leader position before the original Hunters were destroyed, likely because of the Grimborn's lack of loyalty to their crew and/or family. The Dragon Eye was lost and the Hunters disbanded, Viggo and Ryker ending up miles from home, possibly Jorvik.

Viggo and Ryker re-establish the Hunters, with Ryker giving Viggo the leadership role. They pick up allies in the Archipelago, Dagur most predominantly, followed by Heather, who recount to them that the Dragon Eye has been found and is being held by the Riders.

Viggo and Ryker then begin their war with the Riders, but Viggo falls into the same trap his ancestors did and forgets to value his crew or family. Ryker usurps the Hunters with the crew's support, but it ends in disaster and Ryker is killed, the Dragon Eye lost and Viggo injured.

Johann realises the potential of the Hunters now that they've disbanded and pays Krogan to recruit Viggo to use the Dragon Eye and rebuild the Hunters (under Krogan's command) to find and sell the King of Dragons.

or at least, that's the best that I can understand the Hunters?

[merxcywritesthings]

I'M BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES.

PLEASE. X-VIRUS/CODY HEADCANNONS OR SMUT. HE DOESN'T GET ENOUGH LOVE. PLEASEE.

-Just some blob on the internet (Ace😋✨)

𝑋-𝑉𝑖𝑟𝑢𝑠 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

A/N: I freaking LOVE Cody, and I wholeheartedly agree that he does not get enough love as the others do—which is odd considering his character design looks similar to Toby’s. Also I wasn’t sure if you meant headcanons for just him or x reader so I incorporated both, I hope that’s okay! Thank you for your request <3

Word Count: 5.1k

TW: NSFW (MDNI) (Also if you’re squeamish with any explicit content, there will be a divider that tells you when to stop reading!)

Reader is Gender-Neutral.

Remember to stay hydrated and eat plenty of food, you are loved!! ❤️

🧪 My Cody stands at 6’1” (185 cm). His height, combined with his lean but muscular frame, gives him an imposing presence.  

🧪 He’s wiry and athletic. His strength is deceptive; while he isn’t bulky, his muscles are well-defined from years of manual labor and survival.  

🧪 Dark brown and messy, often looking like he’s just rolled out of bed. He doesn’t pay much attention to grooming unless it interferes with his work.  

🧪 His eyes are a piercing gray with dark circles underneath, a result of sleepless nights and his obsessive tendencies.  

🧪 Cody’s body is littered with scars from his experiments, fights, and a hard life. The most notable is a jagged scar running along his right forearm from an incident in his youth.  

🧪 He favors dark, practical clothing—hoodies, cargo pants, and boots. His outfits are often splattered with paint, dirt, or the remnants of his experiments.  

🧪 Cody is 24 years old.  

🧪 He’s of mixed European descent, with his pale skin hinting at northern European roots.  

🧪 Cody identifies as pansexual. He’s attracted to individuals based on their personality, intellect, and connection rather than their gender. To him, chemistry and shared intensity are what matter most.  

🧪 While Cody isn’t one for overt romance, he has a deeply possessive and protective streak. If he forms a connection, it’s intense and consuming, making his partner the center of his focus.  

🧪 Born into a chaotic household, Cody experienced neglect and abuse at the hands of his mother. His father was incarcerated, and his adoptive father later met his end by Cody's own hand.  

🧪 While his “hobbies” lean toward the macabre, Cody enjoys reading scientific journals, tinkering with mechanical devices, and sketching out ideas for new experiments.  

🧪 Cody’s knowledge comes from self-teaching and observing his adoptive father’s work. He has a deep understanding of biology, virology, and anatomy despite having no formal qualifications.   

🧪 Cody forms a close bond with Ticci Toby, seeing him as a kindred spirit. They share a dark sense of humor and a mutual understanding of what it means to be an outcast.  

🧪 Masky and Hoodie tolerate Cody, though they view him as unpredictable.  

🧪 Slenderman values Cody’s intelligence and scientific expertise, though he’s wary of his recklessness.  

🧪 Cody finds Jeff the Killer insufferable, viewing his chaotic, impulsive behavior as a lack of discipline.  

🧪 He avoids interactions with Laughing Jack, whose eccentric and erratic demeanor grates on Cody’s nerves.  

🧪 Cody is calculating and observant, always analyzing people and situations. However, he has a short fuse when things don’t go according to plan.  

🧪 He frequently cracks his knuckles and chews on pens when deep in thought.  

🧪 Cody operates on a twisted version of morality, believing that his experiments serve a greater purpose—even if they involve extreme cruelty.   

🧪 Cody resides in an abandoned lab deep in the woods. The space is cluttered with equipment, jars of specimens, and notebooks filled with his observations. Though sometimes he’ll stay at the Manor and help Eyeless Jack with the Infirmary.  

🧪 He has a poor diet, often forgetting to eat while engrossed in his work. When he does eat, it’s usually something quick and practical like canned soup or protein bars.  

🧪 His signature weapon is a bat with nails embedded in it. He also carries a small scalpel, which he uses with precision.

🧪 Cody has a deep, gravelly voice that’s both soothing and unsettling. He speaks slowly, choosing his words carefully.  

🧪 He always smells faintly of antiseptic and metal, a result of his experiments.  

🧪 Cody may seem cold and detached at first, but he warms up to you over time. His affection is subtle—like brushing his fingers against yours or standing just a little closer than necessary when you're out together.  

🧪 Despite his violent tendencies, Cody is surprisingly gentle when it comes to you. He’ll lower his voice and soften his expression when you’re upset, though he doesn’t always know the right words to say.  

🧪 Cody loves listening to your stories about your life. It fascinates him, especially since his own past is riddled with chaos and pain. He quietly takes mental notes about your preferences and habits.  

🧪 On rare occasions, Cody will cook for you. While his culinary skills leave much to be desired (his food is either over-seasoned or undercooked), the effort he puts into it is heartwarming.  

🧪 Whenever you’re feeling stressed or upset, Cody will quietly sit beside you and offer his presence as comfort. He isn’t great with emotional support, but he’ll stay by your side until you feel better.  

🧪 He has a bad habit of bringing you odd “gifts.” Sometimes they’re bizarre trinkets from his victims, but other times, it’s something like a wildflower he found in the woods or a shiny rock he thought you’d like.  

🧪 Cody has a strange sense of humor and loves teasing you in unexpected ways. He might sneak up behind you and whisper something creepy, only to laugh when you jump.  

🧪 He’s surprisingly protective, always keeping you within his line of sight when you're together. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’ll give them a glare that could freeze their blood.  

🧪 Despite his tendency to push others away, Cody allows you into his personal space. You’re the only one who gets to see him without his guard up, whether that means resting his head on your lap or letting you hold his hand.  

🧪 Cody has a fascination with small, intricate objects, and he loves watching you do anything that involves precision—whether it’s painting, writing, or crafting. He’s mesmerized by how focused you look.  

🧪 He struggles with physical affection but tries his best for you. He’ll awkwardly wrap his arms around you or let you cuddle him, though he gets embarrassed easily.  

🧪 Cody loves hearing your laugh. It’s a sound he doesn’t hear often in his life, and he’ll go out of his way to make jokes or do something silly just to see you smile.  

🧪 When you’re asleep, Cody often finds himself watching you. It’s not in a creepy way—he’s just amazed that someone like you would choose to stay with him despite his flaws.  

🧪 He has a habit of collecting things that remind him of you. Whether it’s a leaf that matches your favorite color or a broken charm that looks like something you’d wear, he keeps them all in a hidden box.  

🧪 Cody gets jealous easily but won’t admit it outright. Instead, he’ll become extra protective and clingy, making it obvious to everyone else that you’re his.  

🧪 He enjoys listening to you talk about your dreams and aspirations. Even if he doesn’t always believe in happy endings, he secretly hopes you’ll achieve everything you want.  

🧪 Cody tries to teach you survival skills, insisting that you need to know how to defend yourself in case he isn’t there. His lessons are thorough but filled with genuine care.  

🧪 He’s surprisingly good at sewing and mending clothes. If you tear something, he’ll fix it for you without a second thought, though he grumbles about it being “extra work.”  

🧪Cody enjoys taking you on walks through the woods. He knows all the hidden paths and secret clearings, and he loves showing you places he considers “his.”  

🧪 Whenever you’re scared or nervous, Cody will stand behind you and place a hand on your shoulder. It’s his way of silently reassuring you that he’s there to protect you.  

🧪 Cody is awkward with words, but he’ll often mutter compliments under his breath when he thinks you can’t hear. Things like “You’re really something, you know” or “Can’t believe someone like you puts up with me” escape him sometimes.

🧪 He tries to show affection in practical ways, like sharpening your knives or patching up your gear. He’s not one for grand gestures, but his quiet acts of care speak volumes.  

🧪 Cody doesn’t like to show his vulnerable side, but you’re the only person he trusts enough to let down his walls. Sometimes, he’ll open up about his childhood or nightmares, though it’s rare.  

🧪 When you’re cold, Cody will casually drape his jacket over your shoulders without saying a word. He acts like it’s no big deal, but secretly, he loves how you look in his clothes.  

🧪 If you ever get hurt, Cody is relentless in making sure you’re okay. He’ll hover over you, clean your wounds with an almost clinical precision, and insist on carrying you if you can’t walk.  

🧪  Cody loves it when you play with his hair. He won’t ask for it, but if you start running your fingers through his hair or gently tugging at it, he’ll practically melt under your touch.  

🧪 He has a soft spot for hearing you sing, even if you’re just humming absentmindedly. The sound soothes him, and he’ll often close his eyes and listen, letting it calm his chaotic mind.  

🧪 Cody’s past has made him wary of trusting others, but he’s fiercely loyal to you. If anyone tries to hurt you or betray your trust, he won’t hesitate to deal with them personally.  

🧪 He’s not much of an artist, but Cody occasionally sketches small things in his notebooks—doodles of you, your favorite flower, or anything else that reminds him of you.  

🧪 Cody doesn’t understand traditional romance, but he tries his best to make you feel special. He might not give you roses, but he’ll leave little surprises like a carefully wrapped snack or a handmade bracelet.  

🧪 If you’re ever upset, Cody will do whatever it takes to make you feel better. He’s not great at emotional comfort, but he’ll stay by your side, offer silent support, and maybe even crack a bad joke to lighten the mood.  

🧪 Cody has a habit of stealing little things from you—like a hair tie or a keychain—and keeping them with him. It’s his way of feeling close to you, even when you’re apart.  

🧪 He’s surprisingly good at fixing broken things, whether it’s a piece of jewelry or a faulty flashlight. Cody will sit down with it for hours, determined to make it work again for you.  

🧪 Cody loves the way your hand fits in his. He doesn’t hold hands often, but when he does, he’ll gently squeeze yours as if reassuring himself that you’re really there.  

🧪 He has an uncanny ability to notice when you’re uncomfortable or scared. Cody will immediately step in, either removing you from the situation or making sure whoever caused it regrets their actions.  

🧪 Cody doesn’t like crowds, but he’ll endure them if it means being with you. He’ll stay close, his hand brushing against yours, ready to pull you away if things get too overwhelming.  

🧪 Despite his violent tendencies, Cody is surprisingly gentle with animals. You once caught him feeding a stray cat, and he got flustered when you teased him about it.  

🧪 He loves watching you sleep, not in a creepy way, but because it’s one of the few times he feels at peace. Seeing you so relaxed and vulnerable reminds him of what he’s fighting for.  

🧪 Cody gets easily embarrassed when you compliment him. He’ll scoff or roll his eyes, but the faint blush on his cheeks gives him away every time.  

🧪 He’s incredibly observant and remembers the smallest details about you—your favorite food, the way you like your tea, or how you always hum a specific tune when you’re happy.  

🧪 Cody has a habit of calling you by teasing nicknames, though they’re never mean-spirited. He enjoys the playful banter and the way it makes you roll your eyes at him.  

🧪 He doesn’t celebrate holidays, but he’ll go out of his way to make them special for you. Whether it’s cooking a special meal or finding a small gift, he’ll do his best to make you smile.  

🧪 Cody has a low, raspy laugh that’s rare but incredibly genuine. Hearing you tell a joke or do something silly is one of the few things that can coax it out of him.  

🧪 He’s surprisingly good at building small things, like birdhouses or little wooden trinkets. He once made you a tiny figurine of your favorite animal, though he played it off like it was nothing.  

🧪 Cody is always on high alert when you’re together in dangerous areas. He’ll walk slightly ahead of you, his bat at the ready, making sure no harm comes your way.  

🧪 He doesn’t like to show weakness, but when he’s injured, he trusts you to patch him up. Your gentle care is one of the few things that can make him let his guard down.  

🧪 Cody loves quiet moments with you, like sitting by a campfire or stargazing. He doesn’t need words to feel connected to you—just your presence is enough.  

🧪 He’s fiercely protective of you, to the point where he’ll challenge anyone who looks at you the wrong way. Cody doesn’t care about making enemies as long as you’re safe.  

🧪 Cody has a habit of touching his scars when he’s deep in thought. If you ask him about them, he’ll open up, but only if he feels safe with you.  

🧪 He treasures every moment he spends with you, even if it’s just sitting in silence. Cody doesn’t say it often, but he can’t imagine his life without you in it.

🧪 Cody is well-endowed, with a length around 7.5 inches when erect and a girth that’s above average, making him both noticeable and a bit intimidating.  

🧪 He’s uncut, with a smooth, clean appearance that reflects his tendency for practicality and hygiene despite his chaotic lifestyle. His skin tone there matches his overall complexion but darkens slightly at the tip when aroused.  

🧪 Cody is highly sensitive, particularly around the underside and the base. While he’s confident and composed, certain touches can elicit sharp reactions, revealing a rare vulnerability.  

🧪 He has prominent veins that stand out when he’s fully aroused, adding to his rugged and primal appearance.  

🧪 Cody keeps himself neatly trimmed, though not obsessively so. He prefers minimal maintenance to avoid distractions from his experiments.

🧪 Cody is experienced but not overly promiscuous. His confidence comes from a natural understanding of people and anatomy rather than a long list of partners. 

🧪 Cody is extremely possessive and demanding during intimate moments. He relishes leaving visible marks—bites, hickeys, and scratches—as a way of claiming you (Or if you do it to him, he sees it as a way to be claimed in return). Seeing those marks later fills him with a deep, primal satisfaction.

🧪 His kisses are fierce and consuming, as if he’s trying to devour every part of you. He loves holding your face firmly in his hands, making sure you can’t look away from him while he’s kissing you.  

🧪 Cody has a love-hate relationship with control in the bedroom. While he often dominates, he secretly enjoys the rare moments when you take charge and make him lose himself under your touch.  

🧪 His favorite place to touch you is your neck. Whether it’s light brushes with his fingertips, possessive grips, or gentle nips with his teeth, he’s obsessed with how sensitive you are there.  

🧪 Cody has a surprisingly sharp sense of what makes you tick. He pays attention to every gasp, shiver, or moan, learning exactly how to push you over the edge.  

🧪 Despite his tough exterior, Cody is incredibly attentive to your needs in bed. He’s hyper-focused on your reactions, always ensuring you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is.  

🧪 He’s not big on verbal communication during intimacy due to his reserved nature, but if he is starts becoming feral he’ll start to let out low, raspy groans and primal grunts that are impossibly arousing–sometimes even cursing and praising you. Can you blame him though? The sound of your name on his lips when he’s lost in the moment is intoxicating.  

🧪 Cody is rough but never careless. He loves the thrill of pinning you down or gripping your hips tightly, but he’s always aware of your limits and will stop immediately if you ask him to.

🧪 His hands are calloused from years of hard work and violence, and he loves running them over your skin. The contrast between his rough palms and your softness drives him wild.  

🧪 Cody is not shy about taking his time with you. He enjoys teasing, making you squirm and beg before finally giving you what you want. The power play excites him.  

🧪 His favorite positions are ones where he can see your face—he loves watching your expressions as he pushes you closer to the edge. The intimacy of those moments makes his heart race.  

🧪 Cody enjoys experimenting with power dynamics. Whether it’s binding your wrists with something improvised or letting you take the lead for a change, he’s always up for pushing boundaries safely.  

🧪 He loves the idea of you being completely undone for him and only him. Knowing that he can reduce you to a breathless, trembling mess gives him a rush of pride and possessiveness.   

🧪 He has a habit of whispering dirty things in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. Sometimes, his words are sweet and adoring; other times, they’re raw and primal, leaving you flushed.  

🧪 Cody gets turned on by the idea of you being just as rough with him as he is with you. Scratches down his back bite marks or firm grips on his shoulders excite him and make him feel like you’re just as possessive of him as he is of you.

🧪 Cody has a voyeuristic streak. While he wouldn’t force anything on you, the idea of someone catching a glimpse of how good he makes you feel excites him in a twisted way.  

🧪 He loves it when you wear his clothes—especially his oversized shirts or jackets. The sight of you in his things is enough to drive him crazy, and it usually ends with him pulling them off you.  

🧪 Cody can be unexpectedly tender during sex. On nights when he’s feeling particularly vulnerable, he’ll take his time with you, savoring every moment and treating you with the utmost care.  

🧪 As I mentioned earlier, he’s obsessed with the way you say his name when you’re lost in pleasure. Hearing you moan or whisper it ignites something primal in him, and he’ll do everything he can to hear it again.

🧪 Cody has a habit of holding your hips tightly, sometimes leaving faint bruises. He loves the feeling of your body against his and the way you move under his touch.  

🧪 He enjoys taking you by surprise. Whether it’s sneaking up behind you to kiss your neck or pulling you into his lap when you least expect it, he thrives on your startled reactions.

🧪 He loves experimenting with temperature play—running ice along your skin or using warm oil to heighten your sensitivity. Watching you squirm under the sensations is exhilarating for him.  

🧪 Cody has a habit of tracing your scars or imperfections with his fingers, whispering how beautiful you are. He sees every mark as a testament to your strength and finds them incredibly alluring. 

🧪 Cody loves intimacy outdoors, especially in secluded spots like the woods. There’s something thrilling about being exposed to nature while still keeping the act private.  

🧪 He has a soft spot for moments when you’re vulnerable with him. Whether it’s during quiet pillow talk or when you’re completely bare in his arms, he treasures your trust deeply.  

🧪 Cody has a primal need to protect you, and that intensity carries over into the bedroom. He’s both passionate and possessive, as if reminding you that you’re his and only his.

🧪 Cody has a habit of pulling your hair—not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to make your head tilt back so he can kiss your neck. The sound of your breath hitching drives him crazy.  

🧪 He’s obsessed with watching you lose control. Whether it’s your trembling legs, flushed skin, or the way you cling to him, he thrives on seeing the effect he has on you.  

🧪 Cody enjoys trying new things in bed, especially if it’s something you suggest. He’s adventurous and loves exploring new ways to connect with you intimately.  

🧪 His favorite moments are when you’re completely at his mercy, trusting him to guide you. The vulnerability you show him in those moments makes him feel deeply connected to you.  

🧪 Cody has a thing for whispered confessions during intimacy. Hearing you tell him how much you want or love him in breathy tones only makes him more intense and focused.  

🧪 He has a fondness for slow, drawn-out sessions where he takes his time exploring every part of you. On nights like this, he’s uncharacteristically tender, almost reverent.  

🧪 Cody gets turned on by the smallest things—like the way you bite your lip or tilt your head when you’re flustered. Sometimes, a single glance is enough to ignite his desire.  

🧪 He loves kissing every inch of your body, especially the parts you’re insecure about. He’ll take his time showing you just how much he adores every detail about you.  

🧪 Cody is possessive about his space, but he loves it when you leave little traces of yourself in his environment—your scent on his sheets or your clothes in his room. It reminds him that you’re his. 

🧪 He enjoys the element of surprise in the bedroom, whether it’s catching you off guard with a sudden kiss or pulling you into his arms at an unexpected moment.  

🧪 Cody loves hearing you beg for him. Whether it’s for more kisses, rougher touches, or just his attention, the sound of your desperate voice is intoxicating to him.  

🧪 He has a habit of gripping your thighs during intimacy, leaving faint bruises as a reminder of how tightly he held you. He loves the way your body fits perfectly against his. 

🧪 Cody can be a bit of a tease, often stopping just before you reach your peak, making you plead with him to continue. The power he feels in those moments is exhilarating.  

🧪 He’s fascinated by the way you respond to him. Every gasp, moan, or arch of your back feels like a reward, and he’ll do whatever it takes to elicit more of those reactions.  

🧪 Cody loves it when you wear something that’s just for him—whether it’s lingerie or one of his shirts. The idea that you dressed up specifically to entice him sends his desire into overdrive.  

🧪 He has a thing for eye contact during intimacy. The intensity of his gaze as he watches you unravel under his touch is almost overwhelming, but it’s also deeply intimate.  

🧪 Cody loves the feeling of your nails digging into his back. The sting of your scratches serves as a reminder of just how much you want him, and he wears the marks proudly.  

🧪 He’s surprisingly playful in bed at times, peppering you with teasing kisses or making you laugh before things get serious. He loves the mix of passion and lightheartedness.

🧪 Cody values secrecy in all aspects of his life, including intimacy. He prefers secluded locations or settings where he can completely lose himself without fear of interruption. 

🧪 Cody is drawn to the visual aspect of intimacy—messy hair, flushed cheeks, and lingering touches ignite something deep within him.  

🧪 Cody hides a softer side, which only surfaces during particularly tender moments. He struggles to show this vulnerability but cherishes it when he does.  

🧪 He’s particularly sensitive to touch and smell. The feel of someone’s hands on his scars or their scent lingering on his clothes can leave him distracted for hours.  

🧪 Cody approaches intimacy the same way he approaches his experiments—with focus and intensity. He thrives on exploring every sensation, pushing himself to the limits.  

🧪 Cody’s mind often wanders to darker scenarios. While he keeps most of these thoughts to himself, they fuel his intensity during private moments.  

🧪 Cody exudes confidence during intimate moments, using his knowledge of anatomy and sensitivity to take full control of the situation.  

🧪 He rarely uses words to express affection but instead shows it through physical acts, like holding someone close or lingering touches.  

🧪 Cody’s past influences his views on intimacy. While he craves connection, he often struggles with guilt and insecurity.  

🧪 Cody prefers slow, deliberate actions that build up intensity over time. He enjoys savoring every moment.  

🧪He enjoys being physically close, finding comfort in the warmth and presence of another person.  

🧪 When someone places their trust in him, especially in vulnerable situations, Cody feels an overwhelming sense of responsibility and protectiveness.  

🧪 Despite his dominant tendencies, Cody exercises significant restraint, ensuring that his actions never cross into disrespect or harm. 

🧪 His body tends to run a little colder than average, which is reflected in his skin’s temperature. However, during moments of passion, his arousal heats him up noticeably.  

🧪 Cody’s stamina is impressive, thanks to his athletic build and endurance. He can go for multiple rounds, and his recovery time is remarkably quick.  

🧪Clean and slightly metallic, reflecting his hygienic practices and the environment he works in. There’s always a faint hint of antiseptic, though it’s never overpowering.  

🧪 He’s a heavy pre-cum producer, and it starts leaking early on, a sign of his intense arousal.  

🧪 Cody prides himself on his self-control. He can hold back for long periods to draw out pleasure, but when he loses himself, his release is powerful and overwhelming.  

🧪 He rarely makes loud noises but instead lets out deep, guttural groans. His hips buck instinctively when he’s overstimulated, and his hands tend to grip whatever’s nearest.  

🧪 Cody’s climaxes are intense and leave him momentarily breathless. His body tenses up completely before releasing in a wave of satisfaction.  

🧪 He’s not someone who indulges often, preferring quality over quantity. When he does, it’s an all-consuming experience for both him and his partner.  

🧪 His idea of aftercare is quiet but deeply caring. He’ll clean you up with a damp cloth, pull you into his arms, and stroke your hair while you catch your breath. He doesn’t say much, but his actions speak volumes. 

🧪 Despite his rough exterior, Cody is surprisingly mindful after intimate moments. After finishing, Cody is quieter than usual, his intense energy replaced with a rare softness. His idea of aftercare is quiet but deeply caring. He’s attentive, he’ll clean you up with a damp cloth and get you something to drink or eat to restore energy—or if you’re up to it he’ll even take a steamy bath or shower with you to clean further. Afterwards, Cody will climb back into bed and often pull his partner close to share the lingering intimacy, while his hands brush hair out of his partner’s face and lazily trace patterns on your skin. He doesn’t say much, but his actions speak volumes. 

🧪 These quiet moments of intimacy are his favorite, reminding him that, despite everything, he’s found someone who truly accepts him.

🧪 Kinks (Although these were already mentioned, put I wanted to create list for everyone to see ;)):

Dominance and Control: Cody thrives on power dynamics. He enjoys being in control, whether it’s through physical dominance or psychological teasing. His dominance isn’t loud or forceful but quiet and commanding.  

Intellectual Stimulation: Cody is turned on by a sharp mind. A partner who can challenge him intellectually or match his wit earns his full attention.  

Sensory Play: He loves exploring the senses. Blindfolds, temperature changes, and heightened tactile sensations are tools he enjoys using to create unique and unforgettable experiences.  

Biting: Cody is a biter, both giving and receiving. He loves the raw, primal connection that comes with leaving or receiving marks.  

Rough Play: He’s into roughness, such as gripping, hair pulling, and controlled aggression. However, he’s always careful not to cross any boundaries.  

Possessiveness: Cody enjoys the idea of “claiming” his partner, whether through leaving marks, whispered words, or lingering touches that remind them they belong to him.  

Voyeurism: Cody has a voyeuristic streak. He’s fascinated by watching reactions—how a partner’s body moves, their facial expressions, and the subtle changes in their breathing.

Praise and Degradation: He’s skilled at blending praise with degradation, creating a dynamic where his partner feels both wanted and vulnerable under his control.  

Bondage: Cody is intrigued by restraint and confinement, using ropes, cuffs, or makeshift tools to explore power dynamics and vulnerability.  

Experimental Curiosity: True to his scientific nature, Cody enjoys experimenting in intimate scenarios. He’s open to trying new things as long as they align with mutual consent.  

Aftercare: Despite his intensity, Cody is attentive and caring after intimacy. He understands the importance of grounding his partner and making them feel safe and appreciated.  

Exhibitionism in Controlled Environments: While not reckless, Cody enjoys the idea of being seen in private, controlled settings where the possibility adds an edge of excitement.  

Dirty Talk: Cody has a low, gravelly voice that becomes even more intoxicating when he uses it for dirty talk. He’s skilled at weaving both commanding and teasing tones to leave his partner breathless.  

Voyeuristic Teasing: Cody enjoys making his partner feel observed and desired, even outside of intimacy. A subtle, lingering gaze or a whispered comment can set the tone for what’s to come. 

Slow-Build Intensity: Cody loves drawing things out, building tension slowly until the intensity is almost unbearable. He thrives on the anticipation as much as the act itself.

Partners with a Strong Personality: Cody is drawn to partners who have a strong sense of self and aren’t afraid to challenge him. He finds the contrast between their strength and their vulnerability during intimacy thrilling.

Scar and Injury Exploration: Cody’s scars are part of his identity, and he’s intrigued by the marks on others. He finds a strange comfort in tracing or kissing scars, viewing them as stories written on the body.

Non-Verbal Cues: Cody has a talent for reading body language and enjoys communicating without words during intimate moments, letting movements and touches speak volumes.  

Edge Play: While careful to maintain trust and safety, Cody enjoys exploring physical and emotional edges, walking the fine line between control and surrender.

Intense Eye Contact: Cody uses prolonged, piercing eye contact to establish dominance and deepen the connection during intimacy. 

Discretion and Secrecy: Cody finds thrill in keeping intimate moments hidden, making shared secrets feel even more private and intense.  

Roleplay: Occasionally, Cody enjoys scenarios that play into power imbalances or forbidden dynamics, adding an element of fantasy to the encounter.

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢! 💚

𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑖 𝑎𝑛𝑑 @𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠

𝐼𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Lick Back 2 (Part 1) by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Angst, Domestic Drama, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Violence, AITA!Terry Richmond.

Summary: Terry Richmond didn't expect to become a father over night. A surprising photo in the mail reveals that an illicit affair he had with a married woman eleven months ago resulted in a baby girl named after him. Ecstatic to be a new dad, he races to South Carolina to reunite with Nova, and bring their new family to Louisiana for Christmas. Unfortunately, Nova's estranged husband Jordan has different plans.

Word count: 18.6K

Read Lick Back (The Beginning) HERE.

"Like sweet morning dew

I took one look at you

And it was plain to see

You were my destiny

With you I'll spend my time

I'll dedicate my life

I'll sacrifice for you

Dedicate my life for you"

Method Man & Mary J. Blige—"All I Need"

Terry Richmond couldn't stop looking at the eight by eleven color photo he recieved in the mail.

Terrina Richmond.

He had a daughter. A two-month-old baby girl.

His mind raced with so many chaotic thoughts. He'd had an affair with a married woman and she left him to salvage her wreck of a marriage in South Carolina. Terry spent months trying to forget her, poured himself into his work, and blotted out the memory of Nova Patterson.

The last time they made love, he nearly broke the bed, pulling out his best erotic moves to keep her. By his calculations, that was when he impregnated her. They loved each other, but ultimately, he had to let her go. She belonged to someone else and already had an infant son. Who was he to prevent a reconciliation of a family?

He worked day and night, taking on extra hours, even requested deployment overseas to get away from Nova haunting him with her beauty, kindness, and intelligence. He wished the world for her, but couldn't bear to be in the states knowing he couldn't have her.

The big bosses denied his request. They wanted his skills building up their elite soldiers in Oceanside. Make more war machines. Oorah.

Terry booked a flight to Charleston the moment he hung up the phone with Nova. An hour later he still sat on his couch wondering who to confess his shocking news to. His first inclination was to reach out to his family, but he wasn't ready to explain the circumstances of fathering a child with a married woman to his parents just yet. His closest friends Von and Bethany were next in line, but he could already hear Bethany chewing him out for being no different than Jordan, with Von nodding his head in agreement. Telling his homegirl Angie would only result in a flying fist socking him in the jaw.

He had accrued ninety days of leave time that he planned on using up for Nova and Terrina. His godson Junior, too. He stroked his chin. Junior would become his stepson now. A bonus child. Nova gave him purpose. He had a family to care for.

Terry cancelled his flight.

Nova would have a ton of things to bring back with the children. He would drive there instead of flying and rent a U-Haul cargo trailer in Charleston. Nova could take what she wanted and he would buy anything else she needed once they returned to Oceanside. He glanced around his condo. They could stay in his place until the lease ended the following summer and then look for a new home big enough for the four of them.

Four.

How strange. He woke up that morning a single man living a solitary life. Now he was responsible for three other people. He wanted to marry Nova as soon as possible, that way he could get them on his health insurance. Terry grinned. He moved like a man with a plan.

Packing more clothes for an extended trip, the reality sank in further. He was a father. He stopped to look at his daughter again. She had his ears. Funny how he hadn't noticed it before. Terrina's eyes struck him first, but then all the other little details jumped out. She was his mama's color. Terry got his eyes from his maternal grandmamma and his ears from his paternal grandpa. Terrina repped both sides of his family like him. He sat down on his bed and rocked his body, staring at her picture like it was going to disappear if he stopped looking at her.

That was his baby girl.

Nova carried her while enduring the stress of an unraveling marriage. His woman needed peace and a home fit for a queen. He was determined to give it to her. Texting his parents, he sent them a quick message that he had to postpone coming to Louisiana because of work.

He stopped by his local coffee shop and loaded up on an egg white breakfast sandwich and coffee. Hitting the road by noon, he headed east after texting Nova that he was driving and would arrive in Charleston within two days. She sent him another picture of Terrina and Junior. He smiled so hard in his truck after taking a restroom break. Junior was nearly two years old, and it shocked Terry that he didn't look like Jordan anymore. The boy had Nova's face dipped in milk chocolate. He noticed that she'd typed the names Terrina and Novan. He typed the name Novan with a question mark. A minute later, she sent a message that she legally changed her son's name to hers. His nickname was Van-Van. Yeah, she was really done with Jordan if she yanked his son's name away from him. That shit was tough.

"My baby girl will never have that problem," he muttered, heading onto the freeway again.

Terry drove non-stop, only taking breaks when the truck needed gas. He loaded up with a bunch of Big Macs from McDonald's in Dallas, and his heart started beating wildly. Sitting in the parking lot, he inhaled deeply several times and listened to one of his meditation apps. On the verge of a panic attack unless he spoke to someone about his sudden anxiety at meeting his daughter, he called Bethany and confessed everything.

"I'm sitting here freaking out, Bethany. I just want to get to South Carolina and see Nova…hold my baby, but right now I'm losing it. Cuss me out, yell at me, I don't care…I just needed to talk to someone I trusted who knows me…knows I wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone on purpose. Not even Jordan."

Bethany gave a long sigh. He waited for a shrill tone to rip his ear apart.

"Terry, I have to be honest with you. Nova called and told me everything a month ago."

"She what? A month ago?"

"Don't be upset. She was scared and didn't have anyone supporting her. Her family flipped out…Jordan's family flipped. Jordan is on a downward spiral. It's a shitshow out there…but I promised her I wouldn't say anything until she was ready to face you. Go easy on her, okay?"

"I'm glad she has you," he finally said after a long pause.

"You should be glad to have me, too. I should kick your butt, though."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything about her…and me."

"Didn't have to. I already knew something was up. I just hoped you two would've ended it quietly without all this blowback. You make a pretty baby, though. She looks just like you and your mom."

"I'm nervous Bethany…a little scared. I'm thrilled to have Terrina…it's just…I'm halfway across the country ready to uproot Nova from her hometown. Am I doing the right thing for her and the baby? I mean…she has Junior…Van-Van. Can I take him away from his father like this?"

"She reached out and wants you to come for her. That's all you need to concern yourself with. I'll let her tell you herself what's been going on, but that is your family now. Jordan should be an afterthought in your mind."

"I want to marry her."

"Get her out of Charleston first. Text me when you get there."

"Does Von know?"

"No. This is something he needs to hear from you when you get back."

"Thank you for being there…for the both of us."

"You have a darling little two-month-old who needs her daddy. Drive safe, Terry. Love you."

Terry sat in the truck, feeling better. Bethany didn't hate him. He texted Nova despite the late hour in her time-zone.

He started the truck and drove closer to his love.

Terry sat in a parking lot of a Target store in a town just outside of Charleston on Sunday morning. He wanted to buy gifts for Nova and the baby, but the store didn't open until seven. The weather was already hot, and he rolled the windows down to wait three hours. He contemplated waiting at a Jack in the Box parking lot, but there were two cop cars there and the last thing he wanted was to attract the attention of the police outside of a fast-food joint at four in the morning.

He spent time on his smartphone looking up all the things he had to do legally to establish paternity. DNA test. Filing the results with the court. It would probably be a hassle to take Jordan's name off the birth certificate, but Terry would spend whatever money it took to pay all court fees to do so. He'd need to get a lawyer in Charleston to navigate everything.

The store opened, and he grabbed a cart, rolling it to the children's section. There was no sales associate around to ask about sizes, so he looked at infant clothing that claimed to fit newborns up to two months. He bought a fancy box of chocolate for Nova's grandmother who she stayed with after leaving her brother's home. Flowers for Nova. Baby balloons. A clunky-looking Captain America action figure for Van-Van. It took him a minute to find the Black one. Sam Wilson. It was going to be all Black everything in their household. Terry paused in the toy section. He imagined his life being like Von and Bethany's, raising two children and being happy. Von always went home to a happy wife and happy children. Sending up a prayer to God, he wanted to provide the same life for Nova and his new family.

He paid for everything at check-out and rolled his cart out to the truck. Bethany was right about Target. You can't ever go inside and come out with the one thing you went in for. He spent over two hundred dollars on all kinds of toys for his daughter and bonus son.

Terry smelled like long hours on the road and stopped at a café to purchase a blueberry muffin that gave him access to the restroom. He washed up, brushed his teeth, and changed into fresh clothes he carried in a backpack. By the time he hit the road again, he was ready to face his future. Following the directions on his GPS, he admired the old buildings and the slow pace of Charleston's southern charm. That went out the window when a palmetto bug flew into the truck. A goddamn flying roach. Hell nah!

He rolled up his windows and put on the air conditioner. The directions showed that he still had an hour to reach Edisto Island. He leaned into the steering wheel once he started crossing the McKinley-Washington Bridge that led to Nova. The Dawhoo River below him looked like mysterious black water. The tannins seeping out of decaying trees turned the water a dark tea-color. Nova once explained that the word "Edisto" meant "black" and was also the name of the indigenous people who lived there, including her Gullah kin, from way back.

His heart palpitated, and he started breathing faster when he reached the street where Mrs. Mariam Walker, the matriarch of Nova's family lived. He smelled the heavy scent of the sea and the river. The house was only a few blocks away from Edisto Beach. Everything around him had been built by Gullah hands. Homes. The bridge. Docks. Churches. Everything.

He passed Mrs. Walker's house because there was no parking available on both sides of the street. Making a U-Turn, he found a spot where a driver left in a brown van. He glanced over at the large white house with the double stairs leading to another stairway that led up to a semi-wrap-around porch. Several older Black men and a couple of men Terry's age stood on the porch looking his way. They built the old house high to avoid flooding, and it seemed like it should've been on a heritage museum tour. He typed into his phone.

I'M HERE.

He put on a stoic expression to face Nova's male relatives. They probably weren't thrilled to see him approaching the house.

The front door flew open and Nova dashed out. She ran down the top stairs first and waited on the landing, her eyes searching the street. When she fixed her gaze on him, she covered her mouth and jumped up twice before running down the left set of stairs, hurtling forward like a comet to greet him. He moved so fast people could've sworn he had wings on his feet like Mercury.

"Terry!" she cried out.

A bunch of women exited the house to watch them.

The moment Nova reached him, he lifted her up high. She hugged his neck so tight that she almost cut off his circulation. He set her down, and they held each other. Embracing her was like having a missing puzzle piece slipped back into its proper place. It was hard to look at her without the tears in his eyes making it difficult to see. She trembled in his arms and every hitched breath she took tore at his heart. He had been a fool to let her go. Sparing another man's feelings in a wasted act of nobility cost him time with the woman he loved and a daughter he hadn't met yet. Lying to Jordan about not sleeping with Nova had been the wrong choice to make eleven months ago. He should've come clean and faced the music back then. It cost him his own happiness. Cost him sharing the journey of Terrina's birth.

He touched and smelled Nova's fragrant hair. She still carried the scent of sugar cookies and strawberries on her skin. Her cornflower blue wrap dress sat snug around her figure. Having babies just made her look enchanting to him.

"Told you…told you I would come the moment you needed me," he said.

She nodded, and they pressed their foreheads together.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

She burst into tears. He rocked her in his arms, saying her name over and over.

"Are the babies inside?" he asked.

"Van-Van is with Jordan for the weekend. Terrina is inside with my mother and grandmother."

Nova wiped her wet face and puffy eyes.

"Ready to meet your daughter?"

He laughed out loud, and then bit down on his tongue gently to keep himself from leaking more water out of his eyes. He wiped his face and glanced at the welcoming committee on the porch.

"Mawmaw cooked a big Sunday breakfast and invited the family over to see you," she said.

"See me, or beat my ass?" he joked.

Nova's eyes welled up. He stroked her arms.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Bethany told me you're having it rough here. I gotta take that weight off of you. I'm the one who got you pregnant…I'm the one who'll fix all of this, too."

He kissed her forehead. She kept her cute pixie cut and fixed her baby hairs to look like curling ocean waves. He rubbed her back. She rested her head on his chest, unable to look at him.

"Terry…I didn't know she was yours. Jordan and I got back together, and I tried to put you away in my heart. He started messing up out here…I left him…but I still thought she was his. I wasn't hiding her from you…I wasn't trying to keep her a secret from Jordan, either. I didn't realize until after she was born that she wasn't his. I was so frightened of what would happen to me and her when everyone found out what I did. People in my family called me a whore…and Jordan…"

She wept. He soothed her as best as he could.

"Just think about us…okay? Hold on to us and I promise, Nova…things are going to get better."

"Okay."

She wiped her nose and inhaled deeply to calm herself down. He clasped her hand in his, and she walked him up the steps. Her family members held paper plates of food and hushed their talking as Terry looked at them.

"Everyone, this is Terry…Terry Richmond. Terrina's father."

"We can see dat. Can't miss his chirren at all."

The other relatives tittered under their breath. An older woman in her eighties pushed a walker and Nova's family parted to give her room so her eyes could inspect Terry up and down. She had slightly wrinkled, dark pecan-brown skin and gray hair clipped short. Mariam Walker…Mawmaw.

"I see una have no shame coming here after putting a baby in her the wrong way."

"Mawmaw," Nova whispered.

"Ma'am, I'm not here to upset you. I want to meet my daughter and be with Nova."

"Be with Nova?"

Mawmaw sucked her teeth and pointed at Nova with an accusatory finger.

"Look ya. Dat is a married 'ooman. You a comeya, messing up the peace of dis family."

"Ma'am, I don't mean any disrespect—"

"Tie yuh mout!" Mawmaw shrieked.

A female relative stepped forward.

"Okay now, Mawmaw…my Lord, let the man get inside the house first before y'all put all they business in the street. Hi Terry, I'm Cornelia…Nova's aunt. People call me Nella. Come inside. Mawmaw is going to fuss no matter what you say."

Nella walked toward the screen and opened it for Terry. She was forty-ish, heavyset, and a shade darker than Nova, but had the same sparkling brown eyes.

"I have some things in the truck to bring in," Terry said.

"Go get 'em, then," Nella said with a warm smile.

Terry walked back down to the truck with Nova. He collected the flowers and gave them to her. Her face brightened up with the full, colorful bouquet in her hands. He grabbed the balloons, Terrina's bag of baby clothes, and chocolate, then headed back to the house with Nova by his side.

"This is for you, ma'am…Mawmaw," he said.

Mawmaw looked at the big box of expensive Godiva chocolate shells, and her eyes widened; surprised that he was giving her something.

"He tryna butter her up," one of the older men snickered.

Nella waved for him to keep moving.

"Tote all that in here, Terry, c'mon now. Can't let these no-see-ums in the house."

Terry glanced at Nova.

"Mosquitos. The ones here will eat you up and you won't even see them," Nova said.

He grinned hard enough to show his gums.

"They've been eating me up since I got here."

Nova led him inside the quaint living room filled with old, cared-for furniture and several sizes of intricately woven tan baskets with dark brown geometric patterns woven in the detail that decorated the corners. The interior smelled of good southern cooking and something else, something that the west coast didn't quite have yet: the odor of history. His hometown in Louisiana had it. All the south and the east coast had it in abundance. Compared to the south, the west was still young and feeling its oats.

Old family pictures cluttered a mantle, and so many people were crammed inside that it made Terry feel like the Jolly Green Giant. He definitely was the tallest person there. His eyes were drawn to a large painting above the mantle of elongated ebony figures showcasing men, women, and children dressed in clothing from the 1930s with blue-black skin and featureless faces. The painting seemed to be the focal point of the room that gave it a cozy feel rooted in a proud lineage.

Three women Mawmaw's age sat on a couch wearing their good Sunday wigs. They scrutinized everything on him. Somewhere out back, the excited voices of children playing added a comforting noise.

Nova took the bag of clothes from him and set them on an empty chair.

"Hello…I'm Terry, pleased to see everyone," he said.

Mawmaw shuffled in with her walker and Nella helped her sit down on an old rocking chair.

"Dis him," Mawmaw said to the ladies on the couch.

Nova introduced him to everyone present. He became eager to make a good impression despite the hard stares and thin-lipped expressions from the elders. All he needed was a knife to cut the simmering animosity in the front room. A giant bible sat propped open on a bookstand next to Mawmaw's rocker. A huge brown lacquered cross hung next to a picture of a tawny Jesus on the wall behind her seat. Terry took in the context clues and understood quickly that he was in a serious religious household. That meant their situation would never be acceptable to MawMaw. The matriarch's frigid brown eyes stared him down like she was going to turn him into a pillar of salt.

A baby's cry interrupted the family showdown.

Mawmaw's eyes immediately softened, and she tried to stand up too fast, almost losing her balance.

"My great-grandbaby is calling for me," Mawmaw said, or at least that's what Terry made out.

The shrill cry shattered the peace again, and Terry felt a lump grow in his throat. He imprinted that sound to memory. That was his daughter. His first time hearing her.

Nella gently pushed Mawmaw back in her seat.

"Bring ha," Mawmaw said.

"Mawmaw…Terry needs to see his baby. He come three thousand miles. Man is probably tired and hungry rushing here. Let him have his time alone with Terrina," Nella said.

Nova placed her flowers on an end table near one of the older adult men sitting in the room and grabbed Terry's hand.

"Come…she's back here," Nova said.

Her eyes were shiny with pride and love.

They moved past family members who ogled his height and muscular build. His body looked big and battle ready from all of his military training. Moving through a short hallway, they skipped past two other bedrooms and made their way to the last one.

Pauletta, Nova's mother, sat on a worn pistachio green armchair.

"Nova, she's not wet or anything. She might be ready to eat again—"

She fell silent, spotting Terry standing behind Nova. He sensed a wariness in her eyes, but she only pressed her lips together. Terry looked down at Pauletta's lap. Air rushed out of his chest instantly.

Terrina.

So tiny. So chubby. So adorable. So his twin.

He let out a shaky breath. Pauletta noticed the tears in his eyes. Her demeanor changed immediately. Nova lifted their daughter up and brought her closer to him. Terrina's cheeks held a few dewdrop tears that looked like tiny crystal jewels to him.

"Hey Terrina…meet your daddy," Nova said.

"Sit down," Pauletta said, leaving the armchair available to him. She left him alone with Nova and the baby.

Terry sat down with a heavy body, and Nova placed his daughter in his arms. Terrina squirmed and made little mewling sounds. Her eyes tried to focus on the enormous face staring down at her. She scrunched her cheeks and eyes up then let out a few "Neh…neh…neh" cries, threatening to bawl loud and long. With tiny clenched fists waving about, her cheeks soon turned a ruddy brown complexion, filled with distressed baby emotion.

"Heh…heh…heh…neh," she said.

She lined her green eyes with his, and Terry said her name for the first time to her face.

"Hello Terrina, daddy's here. I made it. Baby girl…I'm here," he said.

The deepness of his voice quieted Terrina's discomfort. She latched onto his face with teary eyes and studied him like she had to take a test the next day. He touched her thin blue t-shirt with little white ducks on them and looked over the matching bottoms that covered her diaper. Her hands relaxed, and he touched each finger, admired every little toe. He stroked her ears that stuck out like his, and he sniffed her dark brown curls that looked so full all over her scalp. She had Nova's heart-shaped face and plump cupid-bow lips, but everything else on that baby was him.

"Nova…thank you," he said.

He squeezed his eyes shut and made a vow. No one would ever shame Nova for having Terrina. People could keep it in the groupchat about the adulterous affair. Their baby came to them beyond the depths of pain and confusion. Love created her. Nothing more, nothing less.

He heard the murmurings and loud chatter out front. English and Gullah-laced conversations rambled on, but Terry was in a love bubble with Terrina and Nova. Terrina started fretting and moving her limbs about.

"Sit on the bed, Terry. I need to feed her."

He stood and gave up the chair for Nova, then handed her the baby. Nova slid the top of her wrap dress aside and pulled down the flap on her dark blue maternity bra that revealed a heavy breast. Terrina's little body started bouncing with anticipation. She stuck out her tongue and made sucking motions.

"Yes, mommy is going to feed you now," Nova said in a singsong voice.

His heart melted when he witnessed Terrina's slobbery smile for the first time in person. She latched onto the nipple and her chunky cheeks puffed in and out as she fed. Nova rubbed her hair and Terrina stared at her mother with peace in her eyes. Her little feet kicked up, and he touched her toes again.

"I can't believe we made her," he said.

"We did."

Terrina actively sucked away, keeping her little green eyes on Nova's face. Occasionally, her eyes wandered to look at him, still trying to figure out who the unknown man in the room was. Eventually, she released the one nipple from her small mouth and Nova offered her the other one.

"She feeds from each breast…you can tell when she's ready to switch by the way she bounces and slows down on sucking," Nova told him.

Terry kissed Nova on the cheek. He observed it all with wonderment.

"I have a breast pump, so you'll be helping with this," she teased.

"I'm ready," he said.

A creaking sound on a floorboard caught their attention. Mawmaw pushed her walker near the doorway.

"Oonah stomach in ya back?" Mawmaw asked him.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Terry asked.

Nova giggled. Mawmaw looked at her.

"Axum fuh me," Mawmaw said.

Nova smiled at Terry.

"Are you hungry? We've got plenty of leftovers."

His stomach growled and for the first time, Mawmaw grinned at him.

"Wolf in his belly. C'mon…fixin' ya plate…"

Mawmaw turned around and shuffled off.

"Go get something to eat. We'll be right here waiting for you," Nova said.

He lowered his head and kissed her firmly on the lips. She parted her lips, and he sought the familiar taste of her tongue to remind himself that she belonged to him. Terrina swatted a chubby finger on his cheek and he kissed her small hand and forehead. Baby powder and Johnson's baby lotion scents wafted into his nose. He wanted to stay but his stomach snitched on him again. Starving.

Terry followed Mawmaw as she rolled her walker past a small dining room into her kitchen. A stove full of big pots and pans caught his eyes, as well as a kitchen table displaying the remains of leftover homemade biscuits, white gravy, link sausages, fried potatoes, and scrambled eggs. Mawmaw pointed to an empty chair at the far end of the table near the window. A dark-skinned woman in her fifties with short red-dyed locs sat across from him, finishing up a plate of food.

"How you doing? I'm Terry."

"I'm doing well this Sunday. I'm Brielle."

Brielle broke apart a biscuit and smothered it in gravy.

"You drove here, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thirty-seven hours with two catnaps."

"My goodness. By yourself?"

"Yes."

Mawmaw lifted a plate on the counter and scooped out a healthy serving of yellow grits and covered it in shrimp and gravy.

"You have shrimp and grits before?" Brielle asked.

"My mama makes it."

"Where you from?"

"Cypress Bend, Louisiana."

"That's where you drove from?"

"I came from California…I can get that," he said.

He stood and took the plate and a fork from Mawmaw so she wouldn't have to struggle to move around. She turned and sat on the small seat connected to her walker. He closed his eyes and prayed over his food and when he opened them back up, Mawmaw seemed pleased by the act.

"Una go to church, young man?" Mawmaw asked.

"Not as much as I should. I used to sing in the choir at my church back home. I was raised Baptist."

Mawmaw nodded.

"What oonah parents think 'bout whatchu did?" Mawmaw asked.

"Mawmaw, let him eat his food," Brielle said.

"My house, I talk when I want."

Pauletta popped in and went directly to Mawmaw.

"Mawmaw, Mrs. Tinely is outside. She brought you some of her collards."

Mawmaw, stood and turned her walker toward the front room. Pauletta followed behind her. Terry dug into the food. It was still warm and savory. The grits were creamy with butter, and the gravy was packed with salty bacon and onion bits. Garlic and bell peppers rounded out the flavor, and he smacked his lips.

"This is a good roux. Nice and thick," he said.

Brielle wiped crumbs from her bottom lip with a napkin.

"Listen to me good, Terry. This family has been in an uproar about this situation with you and Nova. We love Terrina…she's blood and she ain't did nothing wrong coming into the world. I think what you did is wrong, but I understand how things can happen. Shit, we dragged Jordan by his edges, too and it caused a rift between our two families. Mawmaw won't even let him come inside the house anymore. I hope your intentions being here are good for Nova's sake…and my grand-niece."

"They are. I love, Nova."

"Jordan said he loved her, too. Words don't mean nothin' to me. We got two babies who need fathering. If you mean well, all ya gotta do is show us, and you'll be alright young man."

Terry kept eating. Brielle's tone didn't sound adversarial. It was forthright. He acted the same way.

"Who called Nova a whore?"

Brielle blinked twice, and her lips moved slightly to the right of her face.

"Uncle Pete is old school. A deacon in the church. Old people don't mince words."

"I don't either."

She grinned.

"Okay now, that's real good. Don't back down from the naysayers. However, if the Patterson family find out you're here, things might get outta hand. None of them wanna see you 'round these parts."

Terry piled a few sausages on his plate with a biscuit.

"Nobody can run me off from my baby or Nova. I'm taking her with me when I leave. Her and the children."

"Say what now?"

"I didn't come this far to visit and leave by myself. I'm taking my family with me."

"She's not even divorced yet."

"Does she have full custody of Van-Van?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Then she can leave…freely."

"You can't take them kids away from Mawmaw. It'll break her heart."

"Nova doesn't want to be here. She's not happy. Who would be, though? Being called names by her family members and looked down on like she's wearing a scarlet letter 'A' on her chest."

Brielle stood and touched his arm.

"It's not everybody, mainly the older ones. Show them who you are and things will smooth over. You already doin' better than Jordan."

"How's that?"

"Mawmaw let you in the house."

Brielle winked her eye and cleared her dishes.

He ate his food in silence. A bunch of children ran into the kitchen from the back door. Three boys and two girls, all around eight to twelve-years-old.

"Who are you?" the oldest girl asked.

"Terry," he said.

The girl stared at his eyes.

"You got eyes like, Terrina."

"I'm her father."

"How you her father when Auntie Nova is married to Uncle Jordan?"

Terry chewed his last piece of sausage and cleaned up his plate in the sink. He left the children staring at his back.

The adults gossiped in the front room and out on the porch. He slipped past them and searched for a restroom. After relieving himself, he stared at his reflection.

"Relax…relax…"

He splashed cool water on his face and used a paper towel on the sink to wipe the excess liquid away. His lips curled into a smile, noticing the fancy hand towels on the rack behind him. Mawmaw didn't want anyone touching her nice pink hand towels. Paper towels for everyone. Just like his mama back home.

Before he went back to Nova and Terrina, he wanted to speak to Uncle Pete.

He followed a plastic runner on the floor that led him back to the front room. The elders watched him open the screen and step outside. Mawmaw sat on her walker, talking to a middle-aged fair-skinned Black woman, Mrs. Tinely, in a corner of the porch. Nella perked up when she noticed him.

"Which one of these men out here is Uncle Pete?" Terry asked.

Nella turned her head to show him, but the older man stepped forward. Pete looked to be in his mid-sixties, with a paunchy belly and umber skin. His receding hairline added a few years to his appearance, and the dull brown church slacks and tan button-up shirt screamed conservative and cheap.

"I'm Uncle Pete," the man boomed with a voice almost as deep as Terry's.

"May I speak to you, sir, in private?"

Nella gave Pete a look, and the older man glanced around to see if anyone heard Terry. They did. He followed Pete down the steps with several sets of curious eyes tracking them from the porch. The two men stepped to the right side of the stairs that led to a driveway with part of the house acting as a carport covering. Blue glass bottles decorated a small tree at the edge of the property. Sunlight struck a few of the bottles, creating streaks of blue diffuse refection against the side of the house. He recognized the tradition that was done in Louisiana, too. Used for protection and to ward off evil, his daddy called them spirit bottles. His grandmother in Yazoo, Mississippi had one. The blue color was meant to imitate water and thwart troublesome entities from bothering the home since they couldn't cross over running water. The bottles were supposed to trap them if they dared to trick their way near.

Pete folded his arms across his chest.

"What do you want to speak with me about?"

"I heard that you called Nova a whore because she gave birth to my daughter."

Pete tilted his head and spoke boldly.

"Do not prostitute thy daughter, to cause her to be a whore…lest the land fall to whoredom, and the land become full of wickedness."

Terry stepped closer to Pete, lowering his head so he could look the man directly in the eyes.

"Respectfully, sir, no man, especially a man of God, should disrespect his niece by calling her a whore."

"Tell him!" Nella said.

"Nella!"

Mawmaw's voice echoed loud above them.

Pete looked past Terry. Nella stared down at them with Mawmaw, Brielle and the other men present. Sweat traced several paths on Pete's face from the rising temperature and the sun hanging directly overhead. A glint of blue bottle reflection speckled his cheek.

"Men are talking," Mawmaw said.

"Talk to him, Terry," Nella urged.

"Any anger, disappointment, or harsh words you want to speak…you say them to me. Not her. Jordan broke his vows to her in California first several times over. He'd been doing so even before she came out there. Nova tried her best to be a good wife to him, but he neglected her. Could I have inserted myself into her life properly by waiting for her to divorce? Sure… but I didn't, and that's on me."

"I won't stand here and have a snake in the Lord's garden justify his actions leading Nova astray. Her sin and your sin ended a marriage that had been in the making for years. You put asunder two large families, not just two individuals, son."

"I don't need to justify my actions to you. She and I have a beautiful daughter together that I want to support. I plan on taking responsibility for both of them. I'm asking you to stop insulting her because I won't tolerate it."

"You created a broken home, young man. Do ya think coming here absolves you of that? We don't know you. We don't know your people. Had you not interfered, she and Jordan could've weathered the storm with more counseling and time to heal."

Terry placed his hands together in front of Pete.

"Let me make this clear to you, …sir…Nova suffered mental, and emotional abuse with Jordan's infidelity. Physical abuse too, if you count the potential sexually transmitted diseases he could've brought home to her. He screwed so many women that they were sending him care packages overseas while he had a wife and child at home waiting on him. Nova is done with him. Sorry to his family, but I plan on making a new family with her the moment her divorce goes through. Jordan broke his family…not me."

Terry's voice rose loud enough to concern Nova's people. Pauletta lowered her head. Hearing the full extent of her son-in-law's behavior must've shocked her. A few of the younger men walked down the steps to watch them closer. Nella came down too, with Brielle.

"Jordan ripped her heart out and I'm putting it back in… and protecting it from now on. Please save your words about whores and wickedness for him, not Nova."

"She never should've had a child out of wedlock with someone who isn't her husband!"

Nella stepped forward and waved her hands.

"Now…now Uncle Pete…let's not go there. You the last person who should be talking about having kids out of wedlock with all the outside kids you have running around here."

She put a hand on her hip.

"It's always the folks who live in their self-righteous glass houses that wanna throw stones. Be the first ones ready to judge people like they shit don't stink. It's time we all mind our business and let Nova live her life without a bunch of hypocrites wagging they finger. Maybe you need to call Aunt Evelyn and ask her how it felt to be married to you back in the day with all your cheatin' and carrying on."

"I'm a saved man walking with Christ now!"

Pete threw up his hands in disgust and stomped down the street. Nella catcalled him.

"Yeah, kitchen got hot and ya gotta leave with Christ, huh, Uncle Pete? Don't like it when a mirror is put up to your face, huh?"

Pete climbed into a red Escalade and drove off. Brielle rolled her eyes and glanced at Nella.

"Watch him call Mawmaw whining about this later," Brielle said.

"You know he will," Nella said.

Terry walked past the younger men who avoided eye contact with him. He climbed the stairs and looked at the rest of the family on the porch.

"Excuse me," he said.

He grit his teeth and fought the urge to check every single person there. Nova's mother stayed next to Mawmaw. He swept back into the house and picked up Nova's flowers and his daughter's bag of new clothes. Even the children moved out of his way as they sat on the floor watching a cartoon in front of an older model big screen TV.

His long legs carried him to the back bedroom.

Nova held Terrina by the open window where a crib stood. She heard everything through the screen. He placed the bag on the bed and put the flowers on a nightstand.

"Food was good," he said.

She nodded and kissed Terrina's forehead. He moved over to her and wrapped his arms around them both. Looking down at his daughter, he noticed her cheeks puffing out. Nova caught the strained expression on her face, too, and sniffed the air.

"Uh oh, someone's gone stink-stink," Nova said.

She handed him Terrina and dug into a diaper bag under the crib. She grabbed a towel on a dresser and spread it on the double bed. Gesturing for him to bring the baby, she stepped back.

"Time for your first diaper changing session," Nova said.

Oh, Lord.

Terry held Terrina for the longest time until his eyes drooped. His road trip caught up to him and he slept on the bed while Nova fed their daughter once more.

The colors of the sky had changed from powder blue to blue-black when he woke up. The temperature was slightly cooler, yet still muggy. Nova was no longer in the bedroom with him. He heard her voice speaking softly in another room.

Terrina slumbered peacefully in her crib.

Terry stared at her for a long time. His mama and dad would faint with joy, knowing they were finally grandparents. He itched to call them, but decided he would bring Terrina to them as a surprise Christmas gift. They longed for grandchildren out of their three children. But his oldest sister married her husband and raised two golden retrievers as their children. His older brother worked in a fast-paced five-star restaurant in New York as an avowed bachelor. Most of their cousins had children and his parents sulked every holiday, lamenting at the fact they were everyone's favorite aunt and uncle, yet never grandparents capable of spoiling their own grandkids. Terry broke the baby drought finally. He couldn't wait to see their shocked expressions in three months.

He rested his large hand on his daughter's midsection to feel the rise and fall of her chubby tummy. She stirred. Her limbs quivered, and she wiggled a bit before opening her eyes.

"Hi my sweet little girl," he said softly above her.

Her lips poked out, and her fretful expression humbled him. Terry lifted her up and held her close to his heart, bouncing her gently to offset the unhappy noises she made. He was still a stranger to her. He cooed and made soft sounds. She didn't cry, only gurgled and squirmed in his arms. Terry rubbed her back and walked around the room. When he cradled her, Terrina's face looked ready to cry.

"Daddy doesn't want to upset you…let's go find mommy, okay?"

"Neh…neh…" she replied, with a crinkled nose.

He wandered through the hallway and journeyed to the front room. Mawmaw sat in her rocker with Nova across from her in another armchair. Nella sat on the couch watching the TV. All eyes gazed at him walking in with his baby.

"You must've slept well," Nella said.

He grinned.

Mawmaw studied his presence and he figured the thawing out came from holding his own child and loving on her. It shifted something in the matriarch. Maybe it was the curt words he had with Uncle Pete. He glimpsed lines on Nova's forehead and became alert to restlessness in the mood of everyone there. The bulk of the Walker family already left.

He sat down next to Nella on the couch and Terrina relaxed in his arms as the familiar sound of Nella's baby-talking voice kicked in. Mawmaw glanced at Nova. Nova fidgeted in her seat.

"Terry, Jordan is on his way to drop off Van-Van. He'll be here soon."

"He know I'm here?"

"No."

"I'll stay in the backroom when he comes."

Nova nodded.

"I have to face him soon, Nova. You know that."

"I know."

He stood and padded over to Mawmaw, handing her Terrina. She held the baby close to her chest.

A late evening breeze rattled a few of the bottles on the tree outside. The lights of a car pulled into the carport driveway. Nova jumped up, and Terry retreated to the back bedroom. He sat on the bed and rested his hands on his thighs. A car door opened and slammed shut. Terry waited for Jordan to enter the house with Van-Van. Instead, he heard a woman's voice.

"He had a nap earlier so he may take longer to get to sleep tonight…Jordan bought him more pull-ups and put them in his bag with the cleaned clothes," the voice said.

"I'll bring him next week earlier," Nova said.

"You can drop him off at Boppie's house, Benji's birthday party is on Friday."

"Alright. Please make sure Boppie keeps Van-Van at the house. If Jordy makes runs, I want someone going with him…I don't trust where he goes."

"We're doing everything we can, Nova…Charles has been keeping an eye on him. You can call me if you don't want to speak to Jordan directly."

"Is he in the car?"

"Yeah."

"Sober?"

"As far as I know, yeah."

"He must not be if you had to drive and not him."

"He's just tired from earlier. We took Van-Van to the park with Erika's boys…hey Mawmaw…Nella."

"Hey, Michelle."

"Night."

The front door closed.

Terry peeked from the window and watched Michelle walk down the steps. Her tall frame disappeared under the carport where the back bedroom sat above.

Nova joined him in the bedroom and sat on the armchair. Her face had relaxed from its pinched expression right before Van-Van arrived.

"Nella has Van-Van," she said.

Heaviness pressed down on the room. Reality sunk in for Terry. Nova's life and the life of the children were in his hands. He reached over and held her hand, threading their fingers together.

"Why did you leave Jordan? Did he cheat again?"

Nova lowered her gaze to their hands clasped together and shook her head.

"His friend Charles got him a job at the port authority…helping to manage the trailers and containers. He makes decent money. I thought we were going to be okay, but then…I started finding tiny plastic baggies around the house…in his car. There were extreme mood swings. He started peeing in the bed almost every night. I thought something was wrong with his prostate. I had to put rubber sheets on our bed because he soaked up two mattresses. He started losing weight, and his face looked gaunt. I thought he was sick and begged him to get help. People I didn't know started hanging out with him. White guys. Backwoods lookin' people. At first I thought they were his new co-workers, but Charles said they were a rough crowd that hung out at a bar I've never been to before. A bunch of drug dealers and users. I showed Charles the little bags, and he told me Jordan was hooked on meth. God, Terry, I wish he was seeing another woman."

She covered her face with her hands.

"Take your time," he said.

She ran a nervous hand over the curls at her nape.

"I confronted him about it and he promised to stop. I changed Van-Van's name during that time because I could see the writing on the wall. He agreed to the change as long as I stayed with him. I did so only to get his signature for the legal documents. I called his parents and told them what was going on. His family did an intervention, and he checked into rehab. He came home and two weeks later…I found the baggies again. That's when I left him. Took Van-Van to my brother's house and then moved here after Terrina was born."

Nova took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead.

"I filed for a no-fault divorce. We have to live apart for a length of time and I'm hoping it'll be finalized by Christmas or New Year's at the latest. I requested full custody of both children and he gave it because he didn't want me filing about his drug use. I just don't understand how someone who had everything handed to him could ruin his life on purpose. He comes from a solid family…had a promising military career. Our families are so close. The man isn't stupid. He skipped going to college because he wanted to be a marine his whole life like his dad. I thought our life was going to be perfect. But then he left for basic training…"

Nova leaned her elbow on the armrest and covered her mouth.

"What kind of man throws his life away…the life of his son and wife, too…for nothing?" she asked.

Terry pulled her onto the bed with him. They laid back and faced each other.

"I went to Oceanside thinking my dream had come true. The boy I was crazy about grew up into this handsome, virile man… a soldier…yet it all turned into a nightmare. When I look back on it, I really think he wanted me pregnant because he didn't think I'd leave him because of our families being tight. He had the nerve to tell me after I handed him our divorce papers that we'd get back together again because no one wants a single mom with two kids."

"What happened when he found out about Terrina?"

Her eyebrows knitted together. It took her a long time to gather her thoughts.

"When she came out of me, none of us suspected anything. She was all wrinkled and very sensitive to light. Her eyes looked puffy, and she slept a lot. It was her ears that caught my attention after I brought her home. Then…it was clear by the eyes that she was yours. Jordy was the first and only man I ever slept with until you came along. I believed Jordy was my one true love, so even when we were on the outs, I never let any other man inside of me."

She stroked his shirt.

"The first time I met you, I thought to myself, 'That is the type of man I want Jordy to become'. When I got to know you better, I knew Jordy didn't have it in him to be like you."

He pulled her in closer. She spoke in a whisper.

"I was attracted to you the first time I met you, Terry. I took one look at your face and got scared…like I knew my life was all wrong…like I'd made a mistake. The first time I kissed you, I knew you were my destiny. Jordy was out getting high when Terrina was born. He visited us at the hospital lit as hell. His family pressured him to clean up again a few days later, and that's when he found out. He saw Terrina's eyes and got real quiet. Scary quiet. I confessed to him everything. He cried…cursed your name…cursed me while I held her in my arms. My brother put him out of the house and we didn't talk for about a week. He came back and said he would claim Terrina as his daughter, no matter what. Said I got my lick back by having another man's baby, but I was still his legal wife and the law would see him as Terrina's father because his name was on the birth certificate. As far as he was concerned, Terrina was his daughter and he would take the L and deal with it. I called Bethany because you had changed your number. She told me to do right by Terrina and tell you the truth. It took me a month to get the courage, and even then, all I could do was send you a picture and my new number. Jordy didn't want anyone to know. Instead of leaving me alone, he got it in his head that he would raise Terrina. I told him I was going to tell you. That's when he threatened to kill you and me if you ever came into the picture."

Terry's body tensed.

"He threatened physical violence against you?"

She nodded.

"Did you tell anyone? Get a restraining order or anything?"

"I went to the magistrate's office, but in order to file a complaint, you must have two incidents of harassment, stalking, or anything else threatening."

"What about when he cursed you out about the baby?"

"He was angry and directed most of his hate at you. Besides, he has a cousin who works in that department, and another cousin who is a cop here. They'd lie on his behalf to protect him and keep their family's reputation intact. I kept the paperwork and let Jordy know if he ever did anything, I would file anyway, and then head to family court to deny him visitation rights with Van-Van. God…none of them witnessed what I went through with him in California. They coddled him and turned me into the villain who tore the marriage apart. I hate it here so much."

"We have to get tests done for me and Terrina. I have to file paternity rights with the court. I want his name off her birth certificate. Nova…I want to take you and the children to Louisiana for Christmas. I haven't told my family about you and Terrina yet because I want to surprise them. I have plenty of leave time to deal with court stuff and spend time here getting to know my baby. But I have to speak with Jordan this week. I can't hide from him. Things will get uncomfortable, but the sooner he knows I'm in the picture, he'll have to come to terms with going through me for anything dealing with you."

"I want to be with you, Terry. I don't want my kids growing up around him. He'll put up a fight with me taking Van-Van away, and I don't want to deal with that or his family."

She broke down in tears.

He wiped her tears away and kissed her nose.

"I don't have much in savings or anything. The only money I get now is what Jordy gives me for the kids. I can get a job when we go to California."

"Don't worry about money or working. I have enough to cover us and I'm making some investments soon for long-term financial moves. We'll figure out a budget and expenses while I'm here… together. My condo's lease ends next August. I'll let you decide where we live. I don't even mind commuting if you want to try that TV station internship again."

Her eyes shined with delight at the idea. She'd lost so much with her goals. He was determined to give her those opportunities back.

Someone knocked on the bedroom door.

Terry removed himself from the bed and opened the door. Nella stood before him.

"Hey…the kids want to be with you, Nova. Terry, I made up the pullout bed for you to sleep on in the front room. Mawmaw doesn't want you sleeping in the bedroom with Nova because Van-Van shares the bed with her."

"I'm okay with that," he said.

"I'll bring them in here. Mawmaw is going to bed now."

He nodded and took a seat in the armchair. Nella returned holding a sleeping Terrina. She ushered Van-Van inside. The boy rubbed at his eyes.

"Hi, Van-Van," Terry whispered.

Nella put Terrina in her crib, and Nova pulled her son onto her lap.

"Night y'all," Nella said.

Van-Van stared at Terry with open curiosity.

"I suppose you don't remember me at all, huh, buddy? I was your godfather for a minute."

The toddler leaned into Nova's chest. His little 'fro was an explosion of thick corkscrew curls about three inches long.

"I'll let you two get ready for bed," he said.

He left the room and meandered back to where he would sleep. Two blankets were folded and stacked for him in the middle of the made-up sleeper. He stepped out of the house and drove his truck into the driveway. There were still two bags in the backseat, along with his duffle bag of clothes and toiletries. He left his two rollerbags of clothes under the truck bed covering. No need to pull them out until they left town.

He showered and changed his clothes in the bathroom, donning a thin t-shirt and plain blue pajama bottoms. Brushing his teeth, he settled in for the night. He pulled a wave cap over his hair and returned to the front room. The sleeper bed wasn't too lumpy. The mattress was thin, though.

He fell asleep thinking about Nova in the next room.

Terry awoke to find Nova sitting in the armchair across from the sofa bed, feeding Terrina. He glanced at his phone on the end table. Four in the morning. She looked exhausted and half asleep. Terrina released her nipple and wiggled in her arms.

"Here, give her to me. You go back to bed," he said.

Nova handed him the baby, and he rested Terrina on his chest. Right near his heart.

"Go on," he said.

Nova lingered.

"I'm so happy you're here," she said.

He puckered his lips, and she kissed him.

"Bring her to me if she becomes too much."

"She's never too much for me."

"I'm going to use the pump to make a bottle for you, in case she needs to be fed again in the next couple of hours. I'll put it in the fridge. There's a bottle warmer on the counter right next to the toaster. You can drop it in and press the 'on' button. It's already pre-set for the temperature."

Nova touched her bottom lip and her eyes looked off into the distance as if she were trying to remember something else.

"Nova…baby…I'll figure it all out. I know where the diapers, wipes and creams are. Go sleep. I got this. When she's back to sleep, I'll put her in the crib. I have the baby monitor right there if she wakes up again."

Nova wandered back to the bedroom. The soft suction of the breast pump hummed after a few minutes. He looked down at Terrina.

"You and me? Tag team?" he said, softly.

He rubbed her back gently, and she released a little burp that made him smile. Listening to the sounds of the old house, it didn't take long to hear Nova's footsteps moving into the kitchen, putting a bottle away. She ducked her head back in.

"I was able to make two bottles," she whispered.

"Okay. We're good here."

She went back to the bedroom.

Holding his child so close, Terry felt like the world had grown bigger with Terrina in it. Used to living day by day, no further than the week ahead of him, he now had to consider years into the future. She wouldn't always stay a tiny baby. She'd learn to walk, talk…run. He couldn't worry about protecting the country anymore from outside threats. He had to hone in on the tiny girl on his chest from now on… his flesh and blood, not the unknown citizens he trained other men to go fight for.

The world could be a dangerous place, and little girls needed fathers who would slay dragons for them. His precious baby slept on his chest for about an hour before he was positive she wouldn't wake up if he moved. He carried her into the back bedroom and quietly put her back in the crib.

Van-Van slept against Nova's side. He watched them both sleep for a minute and then returned to the sofa bed. Sleep wouldn't come to him, so he watched the color of the sky slowly change into pale pastels to bring in the new day. Terrina's soft whimpering crackled on the baby monitor. He rose from his bed and entered the back bedroom again, getting a feel for everything Nova had to do twenty-four seven. Finding the baby's diaper clean, he picked her up; she stared at him, her tiny lips forming shapes as she stuck her tongue in and out.

"Somebody's hungry again. Good Lord, little girl, you'll be as big as daddy if you keep eating so much."

The corners of Terrina's lips went up at the sound of his voice, and she opened her mouth, making breathy sounds. He grinned at her and she gave him the biggest smile that melted his heart.

"Daddy loves you," he whispered.

Nova rolled over and looked at them.

"Sleep some more," he said.

He walked out carrying Terrina and went to the kitchen. Heating the baby bottle was easy and soon enough he was in the front room armchair feeding his daughter an early breakfast. Around seven thirty, Mawmaw and Nella roused up and started cooking breakfast, using the leftovers from Sunday's breakfast.

Mawmaw peeked at him holding Terrina.

"She take to una, real good, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Van-Van ran in and hugged her.

"Mornin'," Mawmaw said.

She patted Van-Van's hair and Nova came out to join him wearing a robe.

"Got some sleep?" Mawmaw said.

"Thanks to Terry."

"Breakfast is ready. Y'all come on in here," Nella said.

Terry could tell Mawmaw wanted to hold Terrina, but she moved her walker toward the dining room. He started following them, but stopped when he smelled a sudden odor. He sniffed and looked at Terrina. Her cheeks puffed out like she had jawbreaker candies stuck in them. Stink-stink.

He changed her diaper and enjoyed the rest of the day with his new family. Mawmaw started talking to him about his life and Nella listened in while weaving sweetgrass baskets with Nova on the porch. The women's nimble fingers wove the pleasant-smelling plant fiber using a long nail and twisting the long strands of sweetgrass around. Nella sold them in a little shop she co-owned with a cousin and also online.

Mawmaw was a master basketweaver and taught her children and grandchildren the skill. Nova instructed him on how to start his own basket and he was able to weave a little coaster for his beers. She showed him the round earrings she made for herself and wore them proudly. There was something sacred about watching the women weave as Mawmaw overlooked their work with advice and suggestions on the designs. He admired the baskets around the house that were over a hundred years old and crafted by Mawmaw's aunts and other kin. She told him stories about cymbee spirits in the rivers surrounding the island and warned him about trickster mermaids in the ocean who loved to seduce handsome men and drag them to their watery world. Terry grinned and Mawmaw teased him, "They like a big fella like una. Watch out now!" Nova giggled with embarrassment witnessing her grandmother warming up to him further.

In the late afternoon, he went for a walk to the beach with Nova and the children. She fitted his shoulders and midsection with a stretchy orange baby wrap, and placed Terrina in it so he could carry her while she held Van-Van's hand. A shyness came over her as they joined hands for the first time in public. Van-Van's curiosity about him would transform their relationship. This was their first step in becoming something new in the world together.

They watched Van-Van run around on the beach with his toddler waddle. Terrina fell asleep, and he loved the feel of her warm little body snug against his. On the way back, they stopped by the bottle tree so Van-Van could look at the pretty blue colors sparkle in the sunlight.

After putting the children down for a nap, he and Nova called to make an appointment for the paternity test. They also narrowed down a choice of lawyers to a Black woman with a solid reputation. He called and spoke to her directly, making a personal appointment for Wednesday.

By dinner, Terry grew comfortable in Mawmaw's house. He washed the dishes and looked after the children with Mawmaw while Nova helped Nella clean the porch. They laughed and told jokes and seemed at peace until Nova's father showed up.

Mr. Titus Easton was fifty-one, broad-shouldered, good-looking, with a cleft chin, and a boisterous energy about him. It reminded Terry of Jordan.

"Terry, this is my father. Daddy, this is…well, you know who he is," Nova said.

Mawmaw and Nella left the front room to find other things to do in the house. Van-Van played with the Captain America doll, and Nova held their daughter.

"Sit down, young man," Titus said.

Nova turned to leave the room, but her father pointed for her to sit on the couch next to Terry. Titus sat in the armchair and stared at them both with sad eyes.

"I didn't come to Sunday breakfast with your mother Nova because I was too upset and afraid of what I would say while everybody was here. But I thought about it and I want to know what you two plan on doing."

Terry sat close to Nova as she cuddled Terrina. Van-Van went on about his business saving the world with Sam Wilson on the floor.

"I contacted a lawyer, sir, and this Wednesday I'm getting a DNA test to establish paternity. We're getting Terrina's birth certificate amended as soon as possible."

"And then what? My daughter's divorce hasn't gone through. She's still married to Jordan. What are your intentions besides taking care of the child you made with her?"

Terry didn't sense anger in Titus. The man genuinely sounded worried for his daughter and grandchildren. Terry hadn't planned to talk about marriage until he asked Nova for her hand, but her father pressed him to speak about everything.

"I want to marry her, Mr. Easton."

Nova's eyes widened, and she couldn't hold back a smile.

"I see. Will you relocate here?"

"No. I'm taking Nova with me. The children, too."

Titus kept quiet. He looked at his grandson on the floor.

"Does your mother know this, Nova?"

"No."

"Is this really what you want to do?"

"I want to be with Terry. We have a daughter now, and we need to be together to raise her. Van-Van as well."

"Is he a good man?"

"Better than good, daddy. He supports me. Loves me. Wants to be with me."

Terrina wiggled and Terry took her from Nova's arms. Titus looked at his granddaughter's precious face and then studied the same features on Terry's.

"Terry is the one, daddy. Jordan was a terrible mistake that can't be fixed. Prayer and counseling don't work. He broke me…brought me to my lowest."

Nova's lip trembled, and she buried her face against Terry's shoulder. Titus stood and walked over to her.

"Come here, sweetheart," Titus said.

Nova stood and hugged her father. He stroked her hair and patted her back.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I had to come see for myself. I've always wanted the best for you and you've always been a good person who worked hard and did all the things in life right. It hurt me when your mother told me about what Terry said…how you suffered so much humiliation. Why didn't you tell us when you were out there?"

Nova wiped her eyes.

"You taught me to always try to work through problems…and Jordy and I…it was hard to tell everyone the truth about him because everybody had such high expectations for us…for our families connecting. I didn't want to give up if there was a chance for things to get better. They just didn't…not even when we came home."

"Okay…okay…I understand…"

Titus comforted his daughter. He stepped back from her and held his hands out for Terrina.

"May I?"

Terry handed the baby to him.

"Hey punkin, grandpa came to see you and Van-Van."

Van-Van heard his name and jumped up, grabbing hold of Titus's leg, showing him his new action figure.

"He fly, grampa," Van-Van said.

"He does? Lemme see."

He moved over to the middle of the floor and Van-Van ran in a circle around him, holding up Sam Wilson. Titus spent an hour with his grandchildren before handing Terrina over for a feeding.

"Come to the house for dinner on Thursday," Titus said. "We'll break the news to your mother and work out ways to help you."

"Thank you, daddy," Nova said.

Titus held out a hand to Terry.

"We can talk again…later. I feel like things are moving too fast for the two of you, but I won't stand in your way," Titus said.

"I respect that," Terry said.

Titus left, and Nova continued feeding the baby. Van-Van showed Terry the other things he bought for him and they interacted in a way that made Mawmaw smile when she returned to the front room and settled into her rocking chair.

The evening quieted his mind and he sat with Nova on the porch trying to catch a cool breeze. They held hands and talked quietly, reminding one another of why they fell in love. Each of them had inquisitive minds and they admired that about the other. Technology and new media interested them and they laughed about the short videos she posted on social media back in Oceanside, where she described life as a marine wife and Sci Fi geek. She had a couple of popular videos where she talked about books and others about being a new mother that went viral before she left for South Carolina.

On Wednesday, they packed up the baby in a car seat and left Van-Van with Nella to babysit so they could get the paternity test done at the South Carolina Department of Social Services. Cheek swabs were taken for him and Terrina, and afterward, they headed over to see his lawyer, Shelly-Anne, where they would make sure all legal paperwork went through her. They explained their situation and Nova gave Shelley-Anne Jordan's address to be notified of the legal proceedings as they came about pertaining to Terrina.

He dropped Nova and the children off at her parent's house Thursday morning and drove to a popular Charleston barbecue joint, Rodney Scott's BBQ. Terry didn't tell her he was meeting Jordan face to face before dinner with her parents. She would've freaked out and probably insisted that she come with him. He had to see the man alone. But he kept the venue public.

Arriving ten minutes after the place opened, he requested a seat on the outside patio and waited. He spotted Jordan as he rounded a corner.

The man didn't look well at all. Jordan once had the physique and clean-cut look the marines put on the cover of brochures for marketing, but now…

Meth had taken a toll on him.

There were deep grooves in his cheeks and the weight loss startled Terry. Jordan looked half his former size. Some muscle mass still gave him a cut, lean look with his frame, but the scruffy beard that didn't connect and the faraway look in his eyes hinted at the man's struggle. People who didn't know Jordan would probably see a handsome Black man out in casual dress of basketball shorts and a hoodie with a purposely unkempt short 'fro, with legs in need of lotion. To Terry's eyes, the man appeared unwell, and not just physically.

Jordan peered at the other patrons on the far side of the patio area with suspicion. When he lined his gaze with Terry, his body tensed and he halted, as if Terry were an apparition he wasn't truly expecting to see. There was no masking the blistering contempt in his eyes.

Jordan moved closer with an erratic bounce in his step and sat down across from him. For a full five minutes, they stared at each other. Actually, Terry stared and Jordan glared. A server brought them water and menus.

"We'll need some time looking this over. There's a lot to choose from," he told the server.

"No problem."

The young white woman walked away. Jordan leaned forward.

"I asked you to your fucking face if you were fucking her, and you told me…to my face…that you weren't. Some friend you turned out to be."

Terry didn't break eye contact and kept his cool.

"Why did you sleep with her?"

"Because your neglect made it easy to take her."

His voice came out condescending, and that's not how Terry wanted to sound. That was ego talking. That was male flexing to dig at a loser. False bravado masking the dirt on his hands for taking another man's woman even though he knew it was wrong. Jordan wasn't really a loser…just lost. Somewhere along his path to adulthood, he got stunted. Used other women to hide whatever internal failings he had.

Terry folded his hands on the table.

"I fell in love with her, Jordan. It's as simple as that. You didn't want her. I did. Now she and I have a child together—"

Jordan slammed his fist on the patio table. Terry glanced around. No one paid attention to them isolated in a corner.

"Nova is my wife—"

"Estranged wife. That divorce paperwork is coming soon. I'm also getting my name put on Terrina's birth certificate. I want you to hear this from me first…I'm taking Nova away from Charleston."

His words slowly registered in Jordan's brain. Tears welled up in the man's eyes.

"I take care of both my kids," Jordan barked. "Terrina is my daughter legally. I pay child support for her. Whatever you and Nova had is over, nigga. You're not taking my wife and kids outta Charleston."

"Nova doesn't want to be here. Her life will be away from you. I'm sorry, man. That's the way it's going to be. From now on, we'll work out things civilly without short-changing you. You can stop paying for Terrina because that's my responsibility as her father. You're Novan's father. Nothing changes that. But let's be real here. You failed Nova as a man. Look at you…wasting away like you don't care. Stressing her out to where she wants to leave her entire family. We can set up visitation for you and Van-Van—"

Jordan lunged across the table. Terry anticipated the action, deflecting Jordan's hands away. Both men stood up and faced off. Jordan reached into the kangaroo pockets of his hoodie and Terry clearly saw him grip the outline of a gun. He quickly glanced around to make sure no patrons were nearby to get hurt. Holding up his hands to his chest, Terry stayed calm. From his peripheral, he noticed Titus approaching them.

"He has a weapon, Mr. Easton," Terry said under his breath, not wanting to escalate the situation.

"Jordy, stay easy…let's not get out of hand," Titus said.

"Why'd you invite him here?" Jordan said.

"I didn't."

Titus gingerly approached Terry's side.

"Your sister Michelle got a hold of me and told me you were meeting Terry here. She was worried about you getting into it, and she was right…we can all work this thing out like sensible men."

"Work things out? He's stealing my wife…taking my kids away from me."

Titus glanced at the outline of Jordan's hand gripping the gun.

"Jordan, we can get you some help. Get you back on the right track," Titus pleaded.

"Nah. I'ma get me a lawyer…I'm gonna fight this. Fight for my marriage. Ain't no slick, pretty boy taking my family away from me. Life ain't promised, but death is for sho'. I'll kill you first, Terry, before I let you take what's mine. Your days are numbered, nigga."

A police vehicle rolled by on the street, spooking Jordan. He stormed past Titus and left the patio just as other patrons entered to be seated. Terry took a deep breath and sat down. Titus took over Jordan's spot across from him.

"I…I had no idea he was that far gone," Titus said. "I knew he had problems, but…he actually wants to kill you."

"I can take any threat as long as it doesn't go toward Nova."

Titus's hands shook.

"His eyes looked so dead. That is not the same young man that married my daughter. My God."

The server returned and Terry encouraged Titus to eat lunch with him inside the establishment with a good view of the entrance, in case Jordan returned. They ordered pulled pork with coleslaw and hushpuppies. Pauletta planned on cooking an enormous meal for their dinner, so a sandwich with easy sides was what the two men allowed themselves to indulge in. Terry's calm dealing with an agitated Jordan impressed Titus. They spoke about his work in the marines and he explained from his side of things how he fell for Nova. He tried to keep away from her, but the pull—the attraction — was just too damn strong. Titus let slip a smile at the way Terry described all the qualities that made Nova special to him…made him willing to risk it all for her. Her sweetness. The way her mind worked. How she made him feel whole when he was with her. How she made everyone want to be their best selves when she was around. Her low country cooking. The unassuming beauty she carried inside and out. He couldn't tell him the more mushy poetic things he felt, like how the sun rose in her eyes, or how her kisses gave him the breath of life, or how her touches on his skin turned him into sculptor's clay that she could shape any way she liked.

They ate their food and got to know each other as mature men wanting the best for Nova and the children.

Terry followed Titus back to his Victorian-styled home. Neither of them wanted to alarm the women about Jordan, but Titus encouraged Terry to find a place to stay where he could keep Nova and the children safe quickly.

Dinner was tense with Titus and Terry listening for any cars pulling up, or waiting for calls to come at Nova. The Easton household had outdoor security cameras, and that helped with any warning. Nova kept her phone off and that left her in the dark until they ended the meal, when she wanted to call Nella and Mawmaw and let them know they were on their way back. Titus had sounded the alarm to the Patterson family after they left the BBQ spot, and Jordan's people searched the streets of Charleston looking for him, afraid he would harm himself. Everyone agreed Terry was the target, and Nova called Jordan's mother, Boppie, to cancel all of Van-Van's weekend visitations with his father until further notice.

Both families were on edge. Terry found a decent extended stay hotel with a small kitchen and double beds. Nova turned it into a home for them, cooking hearty meals and sharing childcare with him. The hotel afforded them some measure of safety and freedom until his lawyer completed his legal paperwork. Titus paid for their accommodations for a month and checked in with Terry every day.

Through it all, he bonded with Terrina and Van-Van.

His daughter loved the animated way he'd speak to her and nothing gave him joy in the morning more than waking up to the sound of her squeals or Van-Van tapping his face to wake him up for a trip to the nearby park. Nova became more relaxed in her own space. At night, when the children were fast asleep, they snuggled together under the covers, their only intimacy holding each other. They laughed and chatted away the hours, reigniting a passion that never left, even when she had been far away from him. Sharing a bed with Nova unlocked a new level of closeness he never experienced with a woman before. She tended to talk with her hands, gesticulating her points with dramatic sweeps in the air like butterflies dancing. While he spoke of his dreams for them, she would stare deep into his eyes. His voice mesmerized her and sometimes she'd look at him as if entranced, even if he was just talking about buying her a car when they returned to Oceanside.

The first time they shared a bed all night together, Terry awoke with a jolt several times in a fitful sleep, and had to feel for her in the dark to make sure she was still by his side. He cherished the first time he watched delicate rays of yellow morning light touch her face before she woke up.

Sometimes they kissed. Other times they spooned and luxuriated in the freedom to touch each other without a time limit. Nothing sexual took place. That wasn't important to him. She was still healing and their reconnection started with the mental, which was where their love began in the first place. Talking to each other and discovering the hidden layers. Each night became a fun slumber party, and they'd hide under the covers to whisper to each other, not wanting to wake the babies.

He made the mistake of buying Van-Van a children's book that had bells and whistles and little noise makers on each page to correspond with the story. The boy loved playing with it every day as Terry read to him, but seemingly it occurred at the most inopportune times when Nova tried to put Terrina to sleep. She hid the book in a drawer from her son who always asked Terry to read it to him. However that didn't work because Terry also liked playing with the book, and would amuse himself with it after Van-Van went to sleep. Nova literally had to pry it out of his hands at night to hide it from him, too.

"I swear, you're just as bad as Van-Van, making all that noise when you know Terrina is trying to sleep," she'd scold with a playful tone.

Nova took him to his first baby doctor appointment for Terrina. She was weighed and measured and the doctor was pleased with her progress. He watched his baby receive a fresh dose of vaccine shots for two-month-olds. He nearly started crying himself, listening to his daughter wail after her shots. Her trembling bottom lip covered her top one as tears spilled down her chubby cheeks while he cooed soft words of comfort. His love for her soared and he walked around feeling blessed.

Two weeks in, he called his friend Von and had a long talk with him about his new life. Von took it in stride, although there was a slight hint of disappointment that he hadn't confided in him about his struggles being in love with Nova. He also called his friend Angie over a video chat and she listened to him, flabbergasted, for an hour.

"You must tell your parents," Angie said.

"I want to surprise them for Christmas.'

"Your mother will have a fit if you deny her this time to know Terrina and Novan."

"It's only a couple of months."

"Trust me on this."

Nova walked in on him with the children at the hotel. She'd gone down to the courtyard to get some air and to let Van-Van explore.

"I told Angie about us…about Terrina," he said.

Nova handed him the baby, and Terry showed his firstborn to Angie.

"Oh…Terry…aw…she's so cute…listen, I'm hanging up. Make a zoom chat with your parents. They have to know about this before Christmas."

He glanced at Nova.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Nova released Van-Van's hand and sat down on the bed next to him.

"I agree with Angie."

"Hey, Nova. I'm happy for you both. I really am."

"Thank you."

"I'm jumping off this call. Contact your parents right now, T. Bye!"

He lifted Terrina into his arms and sniffed her dainty curls. They smelled like cocoa butter.

"We should do it now while it's still early…and I'm feeling brave," Nova said.

He carried the baby over to his laptop on the hotel desk and Nova dragged a wingback chair next to the roller one he plopped down in, holding Terrina. His entire body shivered and his mouth went dry. He always did video chats with his parents every two weeks, so it wouldn't be out of the blue contacting them. Nova rubbed his arm.

"Are you nervous too?" he asked.

"A little."

He glanced over at Van-Van, who happily played with two race cars Terry bought for him. His squeals of delight encouraged Terry to turn on the laptop. Nova held Terrina for him, freeing his hands to text his mother quickly. His mother, Tonette, responded three minutes later, asking him to wait five minutes so she could get his father from their backyard garden.

The time came, and he sent a link to his parents to jump on a call with him. His parent's faces popped up together, but on his half of the screen, he left up the avatar picture of himself in full marine regalia.

"We can't see you Jaybird," Tonette said.

"I'll turn on the camera in a minute mama, but I need to talk to you both about something important."

"They're finally shipping you out, aren't they?" Tonette asked.

His mother's pleasant face shifted into a concerned expression behind her glasses. The short micro-braided brown bob she sported gave her a youthful exuberance. The tone of his voice brought worry lines to both of his parent's foreheads. His father, Gordon, pressed his lips together, steadying himself for any news that could be bad. Terry noticed the sun's darkening of his light nutmeg-colored skin from spending days of his early retirement outdoors growing beans and squash. He'd recently trimmed his beard that had more gray in it.

"Is that why you couldn't come see us?" Gordon asked.

Terry took a deep breath and watched his avatar blink as he spoke.

"I had to take a trip to South Carolina to meet someone."

His mother clasped her hands together.

"You finally have a steady girlfriend? Is that it?"

Her face became animated.

"Um…it's a little more than that, mama. I did meet someone special. Three years ago. It's a bit complicated, but we've decided to be together. Her name is Nova."

"Nova…ooh that's so different. That's Latin for 'new', isn't it Dino?" Tonette said.

She nudged his father's arm, using her nickname for him.

His father's expression remained neutral. He could hear the stressors in Terry's voice.

"I'm going to bring her with me to Christmas."

Tonette's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Oh, she's definitely special if you're bringing her home with you," Tonette joked. "Jaybird, is your camera not working?"

Terry glanced at Nova, and her eyes were bright, appreciating his mother's enthusiasm.

"Mama, Dad, when I come, I'm bringing you a very special Christmas gift, but I want to share it with you now."

"If it's special, save it for then," Tonette said.

Terry swallowed the lump in his throat. His father's face loomed on the screen next to his mother.

"I can't save my gift because she'll be a lot bigger by then, and I want you to see her now."

"See her?" Gordon asked.

Terry tapped the camera view on his end. He cradled Terrina in his lap with Nova pressed into his side.

His mother's mouth fell open.

"Nova and I had a baby. This is your first grandchild. Say hello to Terrina Octavia Richmond."

His mother burst into tears and nearly knocked her glasses off by holding her face in surprise. His father's eyes lit up so brightly that Terry could feel the warmth eight hundred miles away.

"Oh my, God…oh my God," Tonette murmured.

She peeked at Terrina with watery eyes. His father swelled with pride. Terrina babbled and cooed, her baby feet kicking his thighs.

"That's my grandbaby?" Tonette asked.

"She sure is, mama."

"She looks like you, oh Lord, she looks like me too!"

Tonette laughed and covered her mouth. She gazed at Nova.

"Hello, Nova...oh, I look a mess. Had I known this was a momentous occasion, I would've dressed up to meet my grandbaby!"

His mother sniffled and hid her face in Gordon's neck.

"Hi there, Terrina…I'm your grandpa…Grandpa Dino."

Nova wiped her eyes and looked at Terry. They both didn't want to go into how it all happened, but they had to. His mother calmed down, her face all blotchy and wet from the news.

"How come you didn't tell us?" Tonette asked.

"It's complicated, mama. Nova and I are dealing with something, and it's why I had to come to Charleston to get her and Terrina."

"What's going on?" Gordon asked.

Van-Van squealed and ran over to them, waving a toy truck around.

"You gave us two grandbabies and didn't tell us?" Tonette shouted with glee.

"Novan is my son from a previous relationship," Nova said, her voice quivering.

"We get to have two grandbabies for Christmas?!"

Tonette was over the moon.

"Van-Van, go play over there so we can talk, okay, baby?" Nova said.

"Hi Van-Van, it's your Grandpa Dino."

"Hi!" Van-Van shouted.

"He is so adorable," Tonette said.

"Mommy, come play with my doll."

"In a minute. Mommy has to talk some more, okay?"

"Talk to the people in the TV?"

Gordon chuckled, and Tonette beamed in her seat, so enamored with both children.

"How old are you, Novan?" Tonette asked.

Van-Van held up two fingers and then ran over to his bed. He played with all the cool toys in his new collection.

"Mama…Dad…Nova and I met three years ago in Oceanside. She was married to a soldier I trained and…well…he mistreated her. She and I fell in love while she was pregnant with Novan and then we parted when she wanted to make things work out with her husband."

"You're still married, Nova?" Gordon asked.

"I'm waiting for my divorce to go through. I gave birth to Terrina here, in Charleston, and didn't know she was Terry's until I saw her. We recently had a paternity test done and we're waiting for Terry's name to go on the new birth certificate."

"My goodness," Gordon said.

Terry's parents looked at each other with a wordless understanding. Terry cleared his throat.

"As soon as I get the paternity papers, I'm going to convert my accrued vacation leave into paternity leave so I can save all those other vacation days for another time. I get twelve weeks of paternity leave, and we want to spend that time with you in Cypress Bend. That way you can know the baby, Novan…and Nova."

Tonette burst into tears again and left her seat. Gordon nodded his head.

"You can stay for as long as you like. We can't wait to meet you, Nova," Gordon said.

Tonette returned with a tissue in her hand, sans glasses. She wiped her eyes and sat back down.

"Sorry y'all, I'm just overwhelmed. I can't believe all of this. I'm happy …overjoyed. I've been wanting this for so long…oh! Nova, I don't know if he told you…we've been waiting to have grandchildren for years. Dino is retired, and I work part-time now from home, so we have plenty of time and the energy to help with grandbabies, and none of our kids gave us any! I need pictures and video. I have to tell everyone and brag that I'm a grandma now!'

Tonette stared at Terrina. The baby seemed confused by the voices and faces staring at her.

"Say hi to Grandma and Grandpa," he said.

Terrina stared up at his face and gave him a happy smile. His parents watched him, and Terry let go of the anxious burden that sat in his chest from the start of the call. They accepted the situation.

"My baby had a baby," Tonette said, and wept again.

Their call lasted nearly three hours until Terrina had to nurse. Nova moved out of view of the camera to feed Terrina and Van-Van chatted with his parents for another twenty minutes until they ended the call.

Terry put Van-Van down for a nap, and Nova placed Terrina inside the portable crib he purchased when they first moved into the hotel. He cuddled with Nova on their bed. Relief shined in her face. His parents accepted her with open arms and no judgment.

"They are going to fall in love with you the way I did," he reassured her.

"I'm so happy they took to Van-Van well."

"Are you kidding? Did you hear my mother? She's already shopping on Amazon to order everything that little boy could ever want for Christmas. I bet she's going to have matching pajama sets for all of us when we get there."

"I can't wait to meet them in person."

His cell phone blew up with texts from his brother and sister. Even his favorite cousin Mike left a voicemail congratulating him. He shot off photos and videos of Terrina and Van-Van from his phone. Angie had been right. Telling his parents sooner would make their Christmas even sweeter together. Also, the truth about them as a couple was out in the open. Nova was excited about staying in Louisiana for a good chunk of time during the holidays. She looked so happy. All he could do was hold her tight.

Shelly-Anne filed the paperwork for the birth certificate.

Terry held the copy of the parternity results. He informed his commander that he'd already contacted Human Resources to claim his paternity leave, and spent most of his days organizing his personal affairs. He set up an allotment to Nova's bank account for the children and contacted his health insurance company to add them, too. Things were falling into place nicely.

He took a drive around town alone to enjoy the day while Nova spent the afternoon with her mother and Brielle shopping for clothes. He gave her money to buy herself some new things to spoil herself. By late afternoon, Nova texted about Jordan's suspension from his job for acting strange. His friend Charles sent him home. Terry had been ready to shoulder the responsibility of providing for Van-Van. Nova wanted to use his child support money as a monthly college deposit for her son. If Jordan's financial stability tanked already, he'd have to fine tune the budget he and Nova put together for their expenses. She had encouraged Terry to think about finishing college after he left the marines. He completed his junior year at Louisiana State University before dropping out to join Von in the military after Von lost his athletic scholarship because of a serious football injury. They both started acting a little wild and the marine discipline shaped them both right up.

Terry stopped at a bar & grill to eat a burger and have a beer before joining Nova and the kids. His mother kept texting him questions about Nova and her interests so she could find Christmas gifts for her. Nova loved to read, and he mentioned books. Since she picked Terrina's middle name after her favorite science fiction writer, Octavia E. Butler, he suggested a box set collection of Octavia E. Butler's Patternmaster series that he checked out online on Nova's public wishlist. Moments later, his mother sent him a jpeg of the book set she ordered for Nova. Terry tapped his front pants pocket. He had the perfect gift he planned on giving her.

An engagement ring.

He had to be slick trying to get her ring size without her knowing. While she slept, he snuck one of her everyday rings out of her small jewelry box she packed at the hotel. He took it to the best jeweler in town and chose an oval cut diamond ring with a 14K white-gold band. Taking the black velvet box out of his pocket, he set it on the bar table and peered at it again. He planned to do his big one by proposing to her properly on Christmas Eve when his entire family got together for caroling and eating oysters with champagne, a family tradition. He would use that time as a partial engagement party for them among his family and friends. Von and Bethany were going to be there for Christmas, and he would take that time to ask Von to be his best man for a future wedding after they settled in Oceanside. Maybe they could have a beach wedding with flag football. He grinned. In his mind, he could already see Nova running up to him in a puffy white wedding dress, snatching a flag from around his tuxedo as he tried to throw a football.

He pocketed the ring box and paid his tab. Wandering out to his truck, he had the sensation of being watched.

The parking lot was full of cars. He glanced back and forth, looking for other patrons. No one. He couldn't shake the feeling and moved with caution. Starting his truck, he didn't waste time glancing at his phone like he normally would to check-in with Nova. He backed out and drove onto the street, checking his rearview constantly. Going straight to Nova's parents had been the plan, but he opted to drive around to make sure he wasn't being followed by Jordan.

Merging onto a main highway that led to the suburbs, he noticed a dark, mid-sized sedan following him. He changed lanes twice and sped up, but the other vehicle filled the gap between them by at least three car lengths. Tinted windows didn't help him make out the driver, and the two-lane road had no other cars heading in their direction.

The other car sped up next to him and swerved to the right like it wanted to hit him, causing Terry to jerk the wheel and fly off the shoulder onto a grassy field. He braked hard before his truck hit a ditch and rolled. Startled, his eyes narrowed, and he shifted gears. He chased the car down, losing it on an off-ramp. He considered following, but didn't know the area well enough to trust that he wasn't being led to more trouble. Unable to confirm it was Jordan or some racist redneck trying to be funny, Terry continued to Nova's parents.

Outside the Easton home, Nova argued with four other adults alongside her parents. Terry pulled into the driveway and hopped out. He recognized an older woman as Jordan's mother, Boppie and Jordan's sister Michelle, along with their father, Maxwell. He guessed the other man harassing Nova and her parents was a brother. Jordan's mother was teary-eyed, but cursed a blue streak at Nova and Pauletta. Titus stayed in front of his wife as Jordan's father spewed angry words like his spouse. The Easton's returned the same fervor, blaming Jordan for everything.

Boppie spotted Terry and shouted, taking her purse and striking him in the face. Nova shoved the woman back.

"Don't you touch him!" Nova screamed.

Terry touched his lip. The purse emblem cut his lip. He bled a little and Pauletta charged Boppie, but Titus held his wife back. Michelle yelled at Nova.

"He has a right to see his son! So do we!" Michelle shrieked.

"How can you do this to Jordy, Nova? To us?" Boppie screeched.

Terry reached for Nova's arm and tried to pull her away, but she thrust herself in front of Jordan's relatives.

"Jordy is a fucking meth addict!" Nova screamed. "Stop treating him like a baby and demand that he act like a grown ass man for once and control his substance abuse! I'm leaving this place and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Terry let her get the emotions out. It felt terrible watching two close families go at each other, however he recognized the power it took for Nova to speak up for herself and her needs, no longer letting her ex's trials and tribulations stop her from moving on.

"I will never trust him with Van-Van! None of you!"

Boppie threw her head back and lashed at the sky, begging God to intervene. Maxwell glared at Titus.

"You'll let some stranger tear apart twenty-five years of friendship?" Maxwell said.

Titus walked up to his friend.

"Jordan needs help, Max. He's abusing that stuff. He abused my daughter's trust. Humiliated her as his wife. I watched him threaten to kill Terry with a gun!"

"Liar! He would never do something like that!" Boppie shrieked.

Maxwell wore bewilderment on his face.

"He had a gun?" Maxwell asked.

"He carried it in his hoodie," Titus said.

Nova stomped over to the Patterson's.

"I'm leaving this state. Jordy needs long-term help. Something is wrong with him and I won't let my son be around any of you in the future until you deal with that. Terry is the man I love…we're leaving soon and I don't want you coming to my parent's house like this ever again!"

The tone in her voice quieted everyone present.

A police car pulled up to the curb. The neighbor called for disturbing the peace. Terry glimpsed an older white man standing in his driveway across the street with a cordless phone, observing the entire confrontation.

"Let's go in," he said.

He ushered Nova and her mother inside the house while Titus dealt with the cops and the Patterson family. Nova shook with a feral rage in his arms.

"Can we leave here now?" she begged him.

"We'll head out Wednesday. I'll reserve the U-Haul tonight," he said.

The cops gave Titus a warning, and it took a long time to calm Nova down. She wanted to fight everybody. Pauletta wept about them leaving, but nothing would change their minds. Nova tended to his cut lip, and he kept his mouth shut about being run off the road. They were leaving Charleston. That's all that mattered.

Within two days, they had a U-Haul cargo trailer ready to hitch on his truck in Mawmaw's driveway. Nova packed everything she owned inside of it. She carried purpose and determination on her face, and he loved her more for it.

He spent a brisk fall Tuesday morning making a final payment to his lawyer for her work and bought Nova a bouquet of sugary pink roses just because. Under different circumstances, Charleston might've been a cool place to vacation and spend more time in, but the Patterson family soured every inch of the low country for Terry. His mind stayed on spending Thanksgiving and Christmas with his family in Cypress Bend.

"Comeya, follow me," Mawmaw said, after a hearty lunch.

She had cooked Nova and Terry fried fish and Charleston red rice with a side of thick okra soup, and he suspected it was an attempt to keep them there longer by stuffing him with delicious food. He followed her into the front room.

"Take it down," she said.

She pointed to the painting above the mantel. He lifted the heavy frame from the thick hook in the wall.

"Dat is my gift to una… and Nova. Parta we go with the chirren. Hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

Nella and Nova wrapped the painting in a blanket and he secured it carefully under the truck bed covering he kept locked. Mawmaw also handed him a small sweetgrass basket she made.

"I put Carolina Gold Rice in dere. Nova cook up some red rice for oonah family," Mawmaw said.

Uncle Pete arrived and picked Mawmaw up. She didn't want to be around when they left in the morning, and gave long hugs and kisses to Van-Van, Terrina, and Nova. Before climbing into Pete's Escalade, she moved away from her walker and hugged Terry. Whatever litany of exaggerations she may have formed in her mind about him when he first arrived had dissipated. He was family now.

"Take care of Nova and dem chirren, hear?" she whispered in his ear.

"I promise, Mawmaw," he said.

He released her frail body that encased an inner strength. Nella patted his back.

"She'll be okay. You showed yourself to be an honorable man to Nova. She knows you love them kids fierce, too," Nella said.

He went to gas up the truck and picked up snacks for the road at around two-thirty. Edisto Island looked glorious in the early fall, and he took himself to the beach to gaze at the eastern shore one more time before they departed for good. He kicked off his shoes and socks and dipped his toes in, letting the Atlantic Ocean chill rejuvenate his tired feet. Lifting and packing things for Nova, while also running around playing with Van-Van, had his dogs howling. He plopped his backside on the sand with the tall sea oat plants against his back and surveyed the horizon where the sky touched the impossibly green ocean.

He closed his eyes and let the ocean breeze kiss his eyelids.

"God…thank you. Thank you for bringing Nova into my life with Van-Van. Thank you for allowing us to have Terrina. Please watch over us as we make this journey to my family in Louisiana. Grant me the strength and fortitude to be the best man and father I can be for Nova…"

He listened to the sound of the surf and the squawk of a seabird after he finished his prayer. The sharp scent of the ocean refreshed him, and he took a deep inhale. Opening his eyes again, he stood and wandered slowly back to his truck as the shadows of early evening enveloped him.

At Mawmaw's, he pulled his truck into the driveway. He'd connect to the U-Haul trailer in the morning. Craning his head to look up at the house, he noticed the front room lights weren't on. He guessed Nova went to bed early to rest with the children. Nella's car was on the street and she was probably watching her shows in her room. He clicked his key fob, locking the truck. Stretching his arms, he knew Terrina would be antsy to eat. He hoped there was a bottle in the fridge he could heat so that Nova could rest. Another strong breeze blew across his face.

Heading for the stairs, the sound of glass breaking steered him toward the carport. Shattered pieces of blue bottle glass sat under the bottle tree. A gust of wind shook a branch so hard that another bottle fell and broke, glass fragments shooting toward the cement driveway.

The back of the U-Haul trailer caught his eye.

It was partially open.

He lifted the handle to check if anything had been stolen. Nope. The trailer remained packed to the gills. He slammed the roll-up door back down and locked it with the key still stuck inside the lock. That's when he glimpsed something shiny jammed against the right back tire and picked it up. Nova's cell phone with a shattered screen. He glanced around the rest of the driveway, using a flashlight app on his smartphone. Drops of blood led to the edge of the property where he found Nella crumpled in a heap.

"Nella!"

Terry dropped to his knees and touched her neck. She was alive, just knocked out cold.

"Nella…Nella…"

Nella moaned with groggy energy. She came to and stared at Terry with unfocused eyes.

"Jordon…" she mumbled.

"Jordon did this to you?"

She nodded and grabbed his arm.

"He walked up on us. Nova tried to call the police…he knocked her phone out of her hand and grabbed Van-Van. He…pulled out a gun…she was holding Terrina, and he threatened her…ordered her to get in his car. I tried to stop him, and he… hit me with the gun. He took them. "

"How long ago did he take them?"

Nella sat up and touched the back of her head where she bled.

"Maybe thirty…forty minutes ago."

Terry quelled the panic rising in his chest.

"Is there any place you can think of where he would take them other than his family members?"

Nella shook her head.

"Tell me exactly what he said."

"He told Nova she would never leave him. Her or the babies. She pleaded for him to let the children go and just take her, but he wanted them all. Terry…he had this look in his eyes about Terrina. He said she was the reason their family broke up…I think he's going to do something to her to get back at you."

"I need you to wait on calling the police, okay? Can you do that?"

"Yeah."

Nella stood on wobbly legs. He tried calling Jordan's number and heard a ringing sound out near the street. Holding his cell to his ear, he followed the rings and found Jordan's phone near the curb.

"Fuck!" he shouted.

Nella glanced at Nova's phone in his hand and snapped her fingers.

"Wait…wait! Nova's Airtags!" Nella shouted.

She snatched Nova's phone from his hand. The touchscreen still worked.

"She put one in Terrina's car seat. Van-Van should have one stuck in his little zipper pocket on his jeans. She started putting them on the kids as a precaution when she dropped them off at Boppie's house, in case she let Jordan take them somewhere without being watched. She stopped letting them see Terrina, but probably left the tags on them."

Nella swiped the phone and found the Airtag app on Nova's phone.

"See, there they are! They're still on the island."

Terry shook his hands with enthused encouragement and kissed Nella on the forehead.

"Thank you, thank you!"

He grabbed Nova's phone and ran to his truck. The Airtag stopped near an area by the Edisto River. He held the phone up to Nella's face.

"Is there any place by the river that Jordan would possibly go?"

"He never lived here year round, but his family spent summers with us on special occasions."

Precious time ticked on.

"Think, Nella…think!"

Nella's eyes watered, and her lips poked out in concentration.

"The Edisto River…our families used to go fishing there. I never went because I don't like to fish or camp out. They'd rent a treehouse cabin."

"Call Titus or Pauletta and ask them where, and call me on my phone afterward! Do not tell them what's happening or they'll call the police and make things worse. Jordan is dangerous, and he's also a trained sniper."

Terry tore off in his truck and stuck Nova's phone in the holder attached to his dash. He followed Terrina's Airtag timestamps on the phone. Thank God there were other Apple devices nearby to help track the data.

His cell rang. Nella.

"Terry, Titus said they used to rent the cabins at a place called The Edisto Treehouse Retreat. They usually stayed close by the river to launch their paddle boats."

"Got it, I'm headed there. Give me an hour's head start before you call the cops."

He pulled over to switch his phone onto the dash so he could save the battery life of Nova's phone. Punching in the name of the rental cabins, he jetted there on a wing and a prayer. Jordan sought seclusion and privacy. The river was a good place to hold Nova and the children captive without attracting attention.

Since he was only thirty to forty minutes behind Jordan, he prayed to reach them before anything turned grave. He ventured into the more natural parts of Edisto and worried about losing a signal out in the wild. The temperature had dropped, too. Nova had worn a long sleeve shirt and a jean skirt. Terrina only had on a pink cotton onesie and Van-Van wore little jeans and a T-shirt.

"Don't do anything fucking stupid, Jordan," Terry mumbled to himself.

Part 2 of Lick Back 2 HERE.

A.N.:

The painting used in the story was made by the Gullah artist Sonja Griffan Evans. You can find her work at:

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[sillysillygoofygoose]

Miguel is so smart... ♡

He's like a walking search engine. With every question you have, he has a set in stone answer. He rolls his eyes at the random questions you ask just to try to stump him, but smirks and answers all the same.

"Mig, what's the capital of Hungary."

"Budapest... why?"

"Jus' wondering."

"Okay, sweetheart."

He's always willing to explain certain concepts to you, but he is NEVER condescending. Miguel will never put on a "baby voice" to talk out a problem with you. He doesn't treat you like a child. Miguel knows he's smart, but he's not an asshole about it. But, he does love it when you point it out.

"You're so good with numbers, Miggy. So smart for me, hm?"

He gently smiles as he's crunching numbers, figuring out what his budget should be for this month so he can save up for the diamond-plagued necklace he saw you ogling. He feels a sense of pride as you massage his shoulders, looking at the paper in front of him, kissing his cheek.

"Mhm... just for you, love."

Miguel is always the one who files your taxes and works out financial issues. He looks so good sitting at the kitchen table, glasses perched at the bridge of his nose, as he's rubbing his temples and bouncing his knee, while he's hunched over his laptop with papers neatly organized around him.

Miguel loves to watch documentaries at the end of a long day. He believes that media should be informational and purposeful. His favorites are history documentaries, though.

I just know this man knows everything about World War II. I just know it.

Once you two have kids, they always go to Miguel for help with homework. I can imagine him sitting in his chair, watching a documentary at 11:00pm. He's partially enjoying the film, eyes opening and closing as the day's work is finally seeping into his tired mind. Suddenly, as he opens his eyes, he sees his daughter standing in front of him with a binder, calculator, two pencils, and a sheepish smile across her face.

"Hola, papa. Can you pleeaassee help me with my homework... I only need help with science and math." She bites at her bottom lip, knowing she's about to get an earful about time management and being responsible. Miguel harshly sighs out, sits up in his chair, and slides his glasses onto his face.

"For the love of God." He rubs his eyes, gesturing for her to hand him the binder.

"Thank you..."

Miguel is always working on reading a huge book. He's a big biography fan. Instead of scrolling on his phone, he'll pick up his book, remembering what page he ended on without a bookmark.

One thing you've taught him, though, is emotional intelligence. How to be gentle and understanding; it was something he was never taught in school. He's so grateful that you were patient as he learned how to let down his strongly built emotional walls.

Book-smart and Life-smart.

My god, I love smart men... nothing more attractive than a man who knows what he's talking about.

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

[betaray-jones]

Since epic tye musical still has me in its grip and since I keep seeing takes on mutiny here are my thoughts on Odysseus sacrificing the six men to Scylla.

Firstly, how informed was the crew that they were going to face Scylla?

I think it is reasonable to assume that the crew had no idea. When the Siren told Odysseus about Scylla he immediately knew the sacrifice this path required, which in my opinion makes it reasonable to assume that at least Eurylochus would also have heard about Scylla and the fact that her six heads required the sacrifice of six men. Additionally Eurylochus calls Scylla by name at no point instead saying that "something approaches" which further suggests he didn't know where exactly they were going. Also the crew all had wax in their ears during the Siren scene so unless Odysseus told them afterwards there is no way for them to know about Scylla. So why didn't he?

I feel like Odysseus has a good grasp on the spirit of the crew and knows how disillusioned they have become. Based on Eurylochus in mutiny it's safe to assume that at least some members have given up on reaching home. Odysseus knows that if he asks this crew to now further sacrifice six men that chances are good that the crew will refuse, so he doesn't tell them and just tells them that the sirens revealed a way to make it home.

For the majority of the crew the captain not sharing the route would probably not be noteworthy but I think Eurylochus as second in command would normally have insisted on knowing. Here of course Eurylochus guilt about the last time he didn't follow orders would then play in Odysseus favor, keeping him from questioning their direction and Odysseus plan.

This leads me to the second part, the torches.

In the Lifestream it was visible that Eurylochus was originally carrying one of the torches before dropping it in order to help a crew mate implying that Odysseus intended for Scylla to kill him. Most people I've seen discussing this proposed that this was revenge for opening the windbag on Odysseus part but I disagree.

Maybe I'm giving Odysseus too much credit for intelligence but I think this man-made monster Odysseus is too calculated for quick revenge.

But Odysseus knows Eurylochus and he knows that he is willing to question him more than any other character in Epic. I think at least subconsciously he knows that if he sacrifices six men to Scylla and Eurylochus figures out that this was on purpose that his next step will be mutiny. But he also knows that Eurylochus is the voice and acting arm of the crew and their concerns. Take him out of the equation and Odysseus might be able to keep control of the crew.

Therefore I do think that Odysseus did intend to sacrifice Eurylochus to Scylla though not necessarily for revenge (though Eurylochus confession probably worked as further justification in his mind). This would also explain why he was so resigned to Eurylochuses questioning in mutiny and why he didn't even try to defend himself when called out.

In conclusion, the mutiny was essentially just the last inevitable step in the paths both characters chose up to this point.

[communist-ojou-sama]

I feel like a lot of people are confused by both the reckless actions of the Zionist Entity on the world stage and the US's continued support of it, even n seeming violation if its (long-term) interests. This kind of surprises me because it seems pretty obvious to me, but I want to take an effort to explain what's going on here.

First, I want you to accept a very general theory of the rise and fall of states. It is a Vastly oversimplified theory meant to be applied very broadly, and it goes like this: When a state is founded and on the rise, it is generally run by people who are amoral but intelligent and competent. Generally these early rulers and administrators found their way to the top of society from a state of chaos and fierce competition of all sorts; as a result, the people who end up on top, even if not the best of the best, are competent and shrewd and, above all, know that their positions are not promised and that they could be overthrown and killed at any time if they do too bad of a job governing. Moreover, this first generation tends to be highly diverse and represent people from all over the social spectrum of the society that preceded it, and above all competence and vigilence is prized.

This sense of internal vigilance and drive tends to be quite strictly impressed upon the first few generations of any given state, and as the state is on the rise, its ruling class, both for the purpose of growing their own wealth and to make government easier, develop a governing ideology and a legitimating narrative to justify to the common people their position at the top of the hierarchy. Crucially, in this initial stage of state formation and growth, the people in charge are pragmatists who understand that their governing ideology is a thing to be used to justify actions the ruling class deems necessary both for their short- and long-term interests, and are to be bent and violated at will if they threaten to get in the way of their true purpose.

Now, while there are all sorts of contingencies to how a state declines over time, I will put forward that the main dynamic that drives decline is the foreclosure of upward mobility and the increasingly jealous guarding of privileges by an increasingly insular ruling class, which is ruled by its governing ideology, to which they subscribe totally and completely. There's more but, let's leave it there for now.

Now, what all does this have to do with the Zionist Entity? Well surely you can see this coming, but what is the legitimation narrative of the Zionist Entity? It is first and foremost settler supremacy and it leads to the top positions in the Entity's military apparatus being occupied by demons like Itamar Ben-Gvir and Yoav Gallant who, drunk on cruelty and a false sense of superiority, have little more capacity for geopolitical reasoning than a wild animal. The reason why the Zionist entity isn't acting rationally in the service of the United States is because the people in power are not rational people, and they will not be for whatever the remaining history of the Zionist Entity is. They won't make rational choices to preserve the future of the Zionist settler edifice because they are uncapable of it; to do so would necessitate understanding Arabs as their equals, and they are incapable of that. As evil as Theodore Herzl and David ben-Gurion were, these demons lack their talents.

So why, then, is Genocide Joe and the democratic party supporting the Zionist holocaust upon Gaza, despite the fact that it is having an utterly apocalyptic effect on the long-term strategic interests and security of the United States? It is for the exact same reason. Genocide Joe doesn't support the Zionist Entity out of some rational calculation, he supports it as a function of his own hubris. Out of the long-term emotional investment he's developed in its wretched existence after many decades of safeguarding it from accountability and facing criticism for it. It really is that simple. The entire US elite, drunk on a fantasy of Western cultural supremacy, is stuck in a state of crackpot realism. I need you to understand that they have no concept that the possiblity of their defeat and the eventual collapse of the United States is a real possibility. And to the extent that they cannot engage with reality, their ability to appraise reality is also blinkered. They can't even see how severe the damage they're doing to the US's standing in the world really is because they are totally oblivious to the reality that in the coming decades the US and Europe will be surpassed in wealth and influence by Global South countries who all opposed the Zionist slaughter, literally no different from the white supremacist "rationalists" on tumblr who try to paint Operation al-Aqsa Flood as some sort of strategic blunder on the part of the Resistance.

The reason why the US is unable to bring the Zionists to heel despite the the whole purpose of the Zionist Entity's existence being as an attack dog for the western powers is because both the Zionists and the USians, having utterly abandoned rational statecraft, have basically forgotten that that's what their relationship is supposed to be. It's that simple.