emeraude: homeland 🇱🇧
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emeraude: homeland 🇱🇧
“ IT’S... ” a pause, dark brows furrow and scrutinize the open gash. the liquor in her system roared --- too much rum, she had drank too much rum. but she fought through this familiar haze often. it would be up to the princess to be the judge of how she’s doing. “ okay, it’s as bad as it looks. ” she finally admits. distantly amalia taste the liquor coating her tongue and the faint taste of pinapple and coconut ... dark gaze flickers up to the attention of the brilliant red hair. it was moving with the ocean breeze, almost like the flames of a fire. the spaniard huffs and blood leaks and trickles past a darkly drawn tattoo ( her skin is painted in ink ) “ can i borrow your shirt? ” she manages, knowing her poor excuse of a sports bra would do little effect against the gash. fia’s however ... “ i’m trying to get you shirtless. ” its a tease --- pearly whites against tanned skin arise as she grins, a soft chuckle following, before backside presses into the nearest wall to steady herself. * @ofviolentdelight
she finds herself RELAXING, after having helped around the island and whatever else that could be needed. a sigh of relief escapes her lips as the princess takes her shoes off and finally leans back against the sand eyes closed and enjoying the silence / the sun that hit against her skin, she forgets about everyone around her, it’s just her and the peace around - however, it is cut short by someone standing just close enough to block the light. eyebrows form into a sharp line, eyes unbothered to open and silence reigns for merely a moment before words come out ‘ you’re blocking my sun. ’
SHE STANDS FIRM ; seemingly unphased by the ever shifting sands ..... dark gaze glares down at her. hopefully its more intense than the sun that now beats down on exposed shoulders. she glistens beneath it --- sweat, oil, perhaps a mixture of both .... ? a dark painted nail loops into her belt loop, hand hovering near the gun at her hip. “ this isn’t vacation, princesa. ” the spainard shoots back. tone something between annoyance and bored. “ get up. you’re being relocated. vamonos ... ” *
RAFAEL.
Rafael looked affronted, unaccustomed to being accosted by random strangers. He had kept a low profile on the island deliberately. “Are you speaking to me?” he asked with some astonishment when it was clear she was, in fact, directing her remarks to him. He flushed uncomfortably under the pure disdain and dare he say it - hate - in her eyes. “I have done nothing to cause such offence.” he protested.
INSTANTLY ANNOYED WITH HIS LACK OF RESPONSE, SHE CROSSES HER ARMS OVER HER CHEST. her left palm swatting the air, muttering something inaudible in her native tongue. she burns with such hatred towards this man ... this royal. wishing to squash him like a bug and knowing she could do just that she begins to pace. only slightly. in a small, nonuniformed circle. she had orders, of course, so for now she settles with giving him a hard time and lifting her chin. swallowing her words of hate. ( to the best of her ability ) “ you have. and your country speaks for it. tu cerdo egoista. your homeland is rotting because of your inactions. ”
FINGERS TUCKED THE METAL MACHINE INTO A HOOP UPON HER HIP. “ if a single pistola is out of place ... ” aggravation is clear. giving a deep breath. she didn’t like sharing her space with him, but was doing so by some small fraction of good graces that were fading... they seemed to fill her villa with arguments verses a usual hum of silence. “ i will make sure i’m the last thing you see within your existence. ” a empty threat? maybe. possibly. she slinks down into a chair lifting her legs to set black glossy boots comfortably on the table. @mathieuism
CATALINA.
Kneeling in the sand, Catalina pressed the rosary in her hand against her lips. In Spanish, she spoke a soft prayer and tried to fight back the tears that built behind her lids. It was one of the few things she’d had a chance to bring with her. The princess didn’t want to show it, but she was terrified. He parents had begged her to quick sneaking out at night, especially with all the royalty disappearances, and she hadn’t listened. And now, she was on an island with a bunch of damn pirates. She swore she’d never disobey her parents again if she could just go home. Taking a shaky breath in, Catalina sat back and watched the sea for a moment. It wasn’t until a shadow fell over her, startling her, did she realize she wasn’t alone. “Dios mío,” she muttered, hand over her chest as she looked up at who had approached.
“ LEVANTATE. ” she stands tall now above the girl, firm. her words weave into amalias skilled hearing and she looks nothing less than impressed. though --- secretly --- excited at the idea of someone of her fellow tongue. though she notes the geographic difference of her words. mexico. the spaniard lifts a brow, challenging her to disobey the command. “ o sufrir el castigo. ”
Emeraude Toubia photographed by Prince Royce.
female awesome meme [1/5] warrior characters >> isabelle lightwood
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Group 9 [Dungeons]
Running a hand roughly through his hair, Elias became annoyed at how realizing just how wet he was. It looked as if he stepped into a shower. His clothes were soaked, clinging to his body and his shoes were filled with water. The pirate’s eyes drifted towards the people who were in the dungeons with him and saw they had the same idea as him; seeking shelter in this room.
“Anyone else see this god awful storm comin’?” The man crossed his arms over his chest. Due to his military background in the Navy, Elias was used to being this wet while wearing clothes. They had prepared him for such a thing. Becoming more annoyed, Elias takes his shoes off and dumps the water out of them.
HE ENTERS WITH THE ECHO OF SLOSHING SHOES. water-logged, she believed they called it. and amalia being ever so not sane loved storms. the rawness. the power behind them. because each day when she sun rose and set it was survival of the fittest ... and amalia succeeded. as she would of the storm turned worse. head lifting, she pushes off the wall she has been propped against to greet the sopping fellow gunner. “ apparently not. no preparations were made. or maybe they did? ” she hums, reveling in the chaos before them all. “ looks like you’re going to have to get naked... you know, wouldn’t want you sick or anything. ” shes not really teasing. “ ven, i’ll help you find something. ”
— GROUP 9: DUNGEONS !!
" well if you really think about it, this PLACE is serving it’s original purpose. “ the man began, pausing for a second as he looked around. in truth clarke avoided the dungeons as much as possible, punishment wasn’t exactly a method he resorted to using unless of course you counted the infinite amount practical jokes he and luna played on each other as any sort retribution. “ you know keeping us all TRAPPED in here with each other. “ his tone was light despite the inappropriate topic of conversation he’d decided to start. he’d looked around with every intention of finding a familiar face but the ones he’d been looking for weren’t there.
which made him wonder what could william be doing? having a melt down probably, the man could not survive an hour without him, let alone a storm. he then concentrated on luna, praying that she wouldn’t end up in trouble he’d have no way of getting her out of it while stuck down here. reaching into his pocket, he grabbed whatever it was that he’d been carrying and sighed. there really wasn’t much that fit into his jacket pocket and in truth a crumpled sheet of paper and a blue crayon were not his idea of survival help, but at least he did have a small packet of instant tea which was saved for emergencies. “ you wouldn’t know of someone who’d have boiling water handy would you? — it would soothe my nerves tremendously. “
AMALIA COULD FIND FUN IN THE CURRENT SITUATION --- IF IT WASN’T FOR CLARKE’S INTRUSION. her gaze hardens and narrows on polished black combat boots, a arm lazily draped around her knees as they’re hugged at her chest. his wording buzz’s around her busy mind like a annoying fly she just wants to swat away. “ your comedic timing is only very off, clarke. ” his name is spoken with her thick spanish accent. especially in her annoyance, it seemed to flare up. she craves chaos, destruction.... but with people she liked. and in some twisted form, she liked clarke. liked he was different. at times seeming more royal than pirate with his education and arrogance... with a roll of her eyes and shake of her head, tanned fingertips are left to clutch at black skinny jeans. if things got worse with the storm she only hoped she’d be selfish enough to save her own ass and not him, too. “ no one gives a mierda about your tea time. ” she scoffs. and in her own immature way, she’s pouting with puckered red lips, chin resting on her knee. “ i’m more worried about surviving off flavored lube and edible panties. ”
“ YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED, SU ALTEZA. ” for some reason, the prince rubbed her the wrong way. probably because she herself grew up in immense poverty. and being he was a fellow latina... the state of his country was a joke. like the fiery spirit she is, dark gaze locks onto him, angry ... hateful. “ you are a joke. a fraud. you deserve to die here. ” @rafaelxdiaz
10 Favorite Disney Villains: ↪(#9) Helga Sinclair “And relax, he doesn’t bite… often”
ROWE.
Restless and hit with a sudden bought of insomnia, Rowe left her villa for a midnight walk on the beach. It must have been nearing the new moon or perhaps it was an exceptionally cloudy night, because the entire island was pitch black. It was like something out of a dream. It was so soothing and peaceful that the sudden movement was extra jarring. Her sleep deprived mind clocked the outline of another person and she moved on instinct, taking the knife from it’s sheath in her boot. Rowe lazily stabbing it into the trunk of a nearby coconut tree, piercing through hem of the mystery person’s shirt and pinning them in place in case they were trying to use the darkness to their advantage. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
A AUDIBLE GRUNT IS GIVEN AS THE THIN FABRIC OF HER SHIRT IS PINNED TO THE TREE. “ lucky shot, ” she grumbles, eyes narrowing at the captain. with a swift movement that’s possibly unseen shoulder is jerking forward and fingers curling around the handle of the knife. she twists the weapon within skilled fingers and huffs. her flashlight lifting to reveal rowes face fully. she sends the knife forward and it lands with a audible thud at her feet. amalias skin slick with sweat from the islands humidity. she moves her flashlight from her face. “ i was scouting. my captains orders. ” she comments, aggravated from the knife being able to land the blow. “ shouldn’t you? ”
Ask the muse! You are allowed to ask any question and the muse has to answer with 100% honesty.
a light growl escaped the red head’s lips, pouting slightly as she watched the raven haired beauty move around her. “ it’s not fair… “ she mused, giving her the best doe eyes she could possibly muster. “ you’re far too PRETTY — if only you’d listen to my suggestion of practicing with a bag over your head. “ she teased the other, before quirking her brow. “ and if i re-call, fast is exactly how you like it. “ she finished her sentence, this time reaching for the gun that was now in the spaniards possession, but instead of grabbing for it, she wrapped both hands around the other’s wrists, inching closer before ghosting a kiss over red colored lips. “ or was it rough? i can be that too you know… “
“ ALL SUGGESTIONS GO INTO CONSIDERATION HERMOSA... ” she hums in reply. calm. cool. collected. she watches james with interest. like a cat admiring a tweeting bird. the girl kept her on her toes --- and in turn, she kept her around. teaching her. refining her. into something better : something stronger. eyes follow her movements, always one step ahead, but allowing the touch. dark gaze admires the paleness of her skin against her rich coloring. she thinks its beautiful. marvels at it. lust twisting eagerly into her mind at the thought of the red-head naked, beneath her, where she belonged. petite form grounds herself, heels pressing into the bare flooring beneath them, gaze flickering to her. lips part, puckered from the chaste kiss. “ i do. ” amalia replies quieter. accent thicker with fast approaching desire. she doesn’t make a move to pull away. a small smirk finds her matte red lips. “ you can--- and will be whatever i want you to be, james. ” amalia answers darkly, without missing a beat she twists herself within james grasp, skillfully twisting her smaller frame behind the girl in a elegant and swift blur. forcefully, the spaniard surges forward, pressing james into the wall before them. the gun and her lesson long forgotten. amalia easily distracted, obviously. amalia presses her frontside into james’ backside in turn, releasing the girls hands. a swift slap is given to her ass, hard, blunt. the click echoing through the armory room. hand snakes up her backside dangerously fast grabbing a fistful of red locks and yanking down. forcing the girl to look upward, but all the while exposing her neck to amalia. the creamy flesh is all to tempting, and lips press feverishly into the skin. her kisses are laced with hunger, teeth occasionally nipping and grazing. that was them though, who they were. primal. weaved from a similar web. “ isn’t that right? ” she murmurs quieter, lips retracting from their assault to now hover by her ear. her free hand swooping greedily forward to clutch at her right breast possessively. james liked being dominated... she knew that, and used it to her advantage.
adrianna-at-sea
“Here here!” She laughed in agreement before getting serious again, “Well he better get used to a woman in power because he has none while here and I do.”
A SMILE IS GIVEN. her attention given fully to adrianna. “ he will learn. or suffer the consequences... ” she agrees. “ tell me about him adrianna? ”