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thelastdrop · 3 years

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Personal

The cameras snapped wildly as the celebrities came down the red carpet dressed in some of their finest clothes. This is your first major premier you’re attending as a lead journalist for your small entertainment news outlet. To say you were a little intimidated by the whole thing was a bit of an understatement. You’d always dreamed of being here, but with every reporter looking out for themselves it left little room to admire your surroundings.

So far many of the stars have arrived and you’d yet to get even a quote from any of them. Just some second hand notes you were able to take while overhearing them talk to other reporters. You know that going back without a single quote to bring to your editor would earn you an earful and probably put you at the back of the rotation for the next event.

Honestly though the best thing about this premier in particular is that one of the hottest up-and-coming actresses is in the supporting role for this film. Your first time seeing her on the big screen took your breath away. She possessed such natural beauty and had a smile that could light up a room. Not only that, but the range of emotions she was able to portray with such control astonished you. All you wanted was to have her wave in your direction and personally you could call it a successful day.

Just as the cameras died down the next car pulled up to the edge of the red carpet. The black limousine’s door is opened from the outside. Through the various heads of different people standing around you, a single long tan leg steps out from behind the door and onto the carpet below it. Almost as if you were in a movie yourself at this moment you see her head pop out giving everyone their first look at-

“IT’S YOO JEONGYEON!” you hear a female voice cry out from the collection of fans lining either side of the red carpet.

A gust of wind blows from behind you, feeling everyone’s attention be drawn to the stunning woman taking her first steps down the red carpet. A roar from the fans quickly erupts as they scream and yell things at the actress.

While every other actress you’d seen before her tonight was wearing a very gaudy and outlandish dress, Jeongyeon was wearing a very modest outfit compared to them. A white long sleeve button up shirt with a long black collar and black bow with two long ribbons rounded out the top of her outfit. Her bottoms were simply some high waisted shorts with six gold buttons on the front of them.

Smiling that bright smile you vividly remember seeing on the big screen she waves and greets fans, signing whatever they put in front of her. It is difficult to not want to sit there and admire her as she patiently and deliberately takes her time with the fans in attendance. All you could do was hope you’d get the same kind of attention when she finally reached the reports area right outside of the theater.

“Ah looks like we aren’t going to get a statement from her again this time.” you hear a male voice from behind you say.

“Fuck! I really wanted to get something from her I could bring back with me.” another male voice says in response to him.

You turn and face the two men behind you.

“What do you guys mean?”

“What is this your first premier with Jeongyeon?” the taller one on the right asks.

You nod your head in response.

“She barely has any time to talk with reporters because of all the time she takes mingling with her fans,” the other man says in an annoyed tone.

Damn. Looks like you aren’t getting that quote. You turn back and watch as Jeongyeon continues to make her way towards your group at a slow pace. While you’re sad you still find it incredibly endearing to watch her interacting with as many people as she can. If you’re going to write about anything tonight, it’s going to be that.

Finally Jeongyeon makes her way in front of the photographers and has her picture taken what seems like almost a million times in a few seconds. She then turns and walks in the direction of the reporters, looking down for a moment to recover from the barrage of flashes she just looked at. As she looks up, your eyes meet.

You’re positive she’s staring right at you and not someone around you. Those gorgeous dark brown eyes were locked onto you and your eyes were locked onto her. Just like they had been for the past 15 minutes. A small smirk creeps over her face and she pulls her straight brown hair behind her ear and turns to look forward, making her way past you all and into the theater.

Jeongyeon whispers something in the man’s ear that is walking beside her. With a quick nod he heads in a straight line towards our group and stops in the middle of everyone, so they can all hear him.

“Miss Yoo would like to say she thoroughly enjoyed working on the film. She was honored when she was chosen for the role and hoped she portrayed her character to the best of her abilities.”

Groans and moans of disappointment fill the gathering as they seem to once again have been shafted out of another chance to hear from Jeongyeon herself.

“I know, I know. I’ll be sure to tell her she should make more of an effort to come and see you all more often,” he jokes with all of us treating us like we’re some family member that doesn’t get enough attention.

The mood of the crowd lightens up quickly as the next limousine pulls up. Since you know Jeongyeon was your last real shot at getting a quote, you flip your notepad shut and begin to put it in your bag when you notice the same man walking in your direction now.

“Excuse me. Sir!” ye calls out in your direction.

You look around you and then point to yourself while looking at him.

“Yes you,” he says, stepping closer to you so you are next to one another. “Miss Yoo would like for you to have a one on one interview with her.”

“A-A what now?” you ask dumbfounded.

“A personal interview,” he says with a bit of a chuckle. “You know the thing where you ask her some questions and write down her response on your notepad. Don’t you do this for a living?”

“A what now?” you repeat yourself still in a daze at what he’s telling you.

“Listen, just go to this room,” he grabs your hand, puts a piece of paper in it, then closes it, “at the Steel Circle Hotel after the movie is over and knock. Tell her you’re the reporter she asked to do the one on one interview with.”

You look down at the papers crumpled up in your hand then back at him without making a sound.

“Well if you don’t have any questions for me I should really catch back up with Miss Yoo inside. Good luck later.” he says with a slight bow before turning and briskly walking into the theater.

You open your hand and see 3 numbers “829.”

A WHAT NOW?

---

825. 827. 829 here it is. You stand in front of the egg shell colored door and stand there for a moment. Your hands get a little clammy as you look at the looming door in front of you. Could this be some sick prank that Jeongyeon’s assistant is pulling on you? After all that was your first major red carpet event and you aren't sure if this is something that was normal.

Suddenly you hear the elevator doors ding down the hall. The noise causes you to reflexively reach out your hand and knock on the door. Fear washes over your entire body. Your heart starts to race as you wonder if you just made a grave mistake.

“Who is it?” you hear a gentle, feminine voice call out from behind the door.

You stand there and start almost running in place. You throw your hands over your face and drag them down, continuing to wonder if you’re making a huge mistake right now.

“Hello?” the voice calls out again.

“Duhh. Sorry. Hi, I’m the reporter Jeongyeon asked to have a one on one interview with.” you spurt out closing your eyes as you say the words.

You hear the lock on the door flip and the handle move. One eye peaks open and sees the stunning Jeongyeon standing in front of you. Both of your eyes slowly open as you fully take her and all of her beauty in from this short distance.

“You sure got here fast. I just got back myself.” she says with a smile while taking one of her earrings out. “Well don’t just stand there, come on in.”

Jeongyeon holds the door open with her body leaving you a space to slide by her and into the hotel room.

“Ugh, yeah sure. Excuse me.” you mumble as you sneak by her.

Once you’re in the hotel room, you look around and see some personal belongings strewn about the room.

“I’m gonna get a little more comfortable if you don’t mind waiting out here for a couple minutes,” Jeonyeon says as she reaches for her other earring and moves into the doorway of the bathroom.

“No not at all.” you say after clearing your throat.

Jeongyeon smiles and ducks into the bathroom. You hear the sound of the sink running and look for somewhere to sit down. With her clothes and luggage taking up most of the normal seats, you take a seat on the edge of her bed and pull out your notepad and a pen.

“If you wanted to ask me a few questions while I’m in here that’s fine. Just nothing too deep,” Jeongyeon calls out in a semi-seductive tone from inside the bathroom.

“Ugh okay then. Well first off you were great in the movie. I’d heard mention from a few people saying you have a shot at winning best actress in a supporting role this year as they were leaving.”

“Oh that’s such an honor to hear. I really thought the director made it so easy to understand my character and play her role out, so most of the credit goes to him.”

“Personally I wouldn’t be as humble as you. You seem to know just how good you are, but you always pass the spotlight off to someone else. Why is that?”

“Hmmm I’m not sure. I really don’t notice myself doing things like that so often.”

You hear the water stop and sit up straight in your seat.

“I was wondering if you’d like to change up the interview a little bit. I like being more personal in my interviews. It helps me get to know the reports I work with.” Jeongyeon says as she exits the bathroom and comes into your view.

Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you look at her. Jeongyeon stands before you in a set of green lace lingerie. She places a hand on her hip and lets you soak her in for a moment before walking over to you on her bed. Throwing one of her long toned legs over you, she straddles you while lightly placing her arms around your neck.

You can’t say anything as you look the breathtaking woman up and down while she grinds against your lap.

“Well it looks like somebody wants to have my type of interview.” Jeongyeon coos feeling your cock harding in your pants and pressing against her pussy.

You can’t control yourself any longer. Dropping your pen and notepad you dive into her cleavage, kissing and licking her soft, smooth skin. Jeongyeon lets out a fit of giggles as you wrap your arms around her torso and pull her body further against your own.

While you love how the lingerie looks on her, you need it off now. You pull yourself out of her heavenly cleavage and hook your fingers under her bra, lifting it over her head and tossing it to the ground.

Placing your hands under her thighs you lift her before spinning and dropping her onto the bed. Looking down at Jeongyeon hungrily, you make quick work of your already loose tie and shirt. Undoing your belt and dropping your pants you watch Jeongyeon run her hands up the curves of her body before grabbing her tits and arching her back off the bed.

“Hurry up slowpoke. I want to see what you’re hiding from me.”

“Take those panties off and I’ll do a lot more than show you.”

With a satisfied smirk removes her panties as you pull your remaining clothes off. Jeongyeon hums in satisfaction as she sees your cock standing tall. She opens her legs and holds them open, inviting you to enter her.

Crawling over top of Jeongyeon you capture her lips for the first time. Jeongyeon kisses you back and brings her hands to your head, running them through your hair and pulling you deeper in.

Guiding your dick into Jeongyeon’s wet cavern, the hopeless woman lets out a long, muffled moan as your cock stretches her out.

“Oh fuck baby…” Jeongyeon moans as you slowly slide in and out of her, reaching deeper into her with every thrust.

Her tits begin to bounce erotically in front of your face as your thrusts start to intensify. Wrapping a hand around one, you flick your tongue against her hardened nipple. Soon you feel Jeongyeon wrap her legs around your waist as she holds her body tightly against yours.

You release her nipple and hook your arms under her legs. Placing her ankles on your shoulders, you lean further into Jeongyeon to give yourself a better angle.

“What’s this big boy? You going to go deeper now?” she teasingly asks.

“You ready?” you say while smirking at the sexy woman.

“Fuck yes I’m ready, don’t hold back baby.”

With that said, you start rapidly pounding into her. Jeongyeon's moans get louder and she begins shuddering a bit as she nears her own peak. The sound of your hips hitting hers is music to your ears as you give one almighty thrust and bury yourself to the hilt, feeling her velvet walls tighten around your cock.

"Oh fuck!" she cries out.

With that, hot liquid rushes over your cock coating it in her love as she begins quivering.

You slowly roll your hips in and out of her while she rides out her orgasm. Once her high has subsided, you go back to pounding into her with the same vigor as before. It doesn't take long before the walls of her cunt recoats your dick with another fresh layer of love juice.

"Your pussy feels so fucking good Jeongyeon. It feels like you're milking me for all I've got."

"Don't stop, harder, faster, please. Don't stop."

Your cock grows even harder inside of her as you give her exactly what she desires. She begins clawing at your back and shoulders as you push yourself closer and closer to the edge. With a few more slams, you feel yourself reach your limit as you cum hard within her. Jeongyeon pants as you continue your relentless assault, not allowing yourself to stop until the last waves of orgasm leave you.

The two of you rest there for a moment, basking in the glow of your combined fluids before you slowly slide out.

“I hope you got some material to use.”

A/N - Sorry this one is a little later than the other 2, but it took me a while today to think of a good scenario. But I’m very happy with what I was able to come up with so I hope you all are too. I also once again may have gone a taaaaaad bit over the 2k mark lol. I also wanted to make sure I did Jeongyeon justice for locke since I promised him god knows how long ago I’d do a Jeongyeon piece. 3 down, 6 more to go. Hope you all enjoy reading it~

#twice smut #jeongyeon smut #male reader #reader insert #jeongyeon #twice #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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jaunes-erotic-world · 3 years

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Jaune Arc's Dragon Maid

"Ahhh," Jaune moaned as he felt rub her pussy against his shaft.

"Sit back and relax 'Master' and let your maid take proper care of you," she licked her lips and winked teasingly as she lined up to ram Jaune's cock inside her.

In the brief seconds before he lost his virginity Jaune replayed the events that led to this....

...........

It started out like a normal day until Yang decided to suggest a little contest with both teams, simple whoever scored lowest on the upcoming test would have to serve the person who scored the highest as their servant the whole weekend. Naturally the way she she expected it to go was Jaune serving Weiss but fate had other plans. Jaune spent all his free time studying so he could avoid last place he ended up scoring the highest barely doing better than Weiss. Conversely Yang spent so much time thinking of jokes to make she ended up getting the lowest score. Yang regretted all the stipulations she added that the loser would have to wear an outfit befitting the role, calling the winner Master or Mistress, and there was no retaliation allowed after so all orders were on the table.

Friday came and after class ended Blake and Nora escorted Yang to meet Coco who had made Yang's uniform and of course she made it skimpy. The outfit was a standard black and white sexy costume complete with stockings and garters. The skirt barely covered her ass. The corset pushed up her already huge tits making them pop out more as did that there was barely anything covering the top showing off insane cleavage.

"The hell," Yang said to Coco feeling embarrassed. The older girl shrugged saying that's the type of outfit she'd want a maid serving her in.

Yang got to the room where she would be serving Jaune and upon him seeing her his jaw dropped and he just drank in the sight of her for almost two whole minutes. Seriously regretting no payback stipulation. Things were calm for a bit Yang brought him drinks, made dinner, cleaned up.

However things changed when Yang bent over to pick some things off the floor. Due to the outfit having the garter belt that she didn't expect Yang couldn't wear shorts under the skirt, as a result Yang unintentionally showed Jaune her skimpy lace panties and her round curvy ass. Jaune instantly felt his pants tighten, he couldn't help himself he needed to see more. A few minutes later her threw something on the ground and got Yang to bend over and pic it up again this time her skirt flipped more and Jaune took a picture with his scroll, Yang heard the click but didn't say anything but did blush, she didn't think Jaune would have the balls. Things went on an Yang decided to get a bit flirty, touching Jaune, showing off cleavage, bouncing her tits and eventually posing for more pics voluntarily this time.

It became too much for Jaune and he called Yang to him and pulled her into a kiss, which she returned. She put her hand on his bulge surprised nervous and excited all at one due to the size.

"Oh my Master this seems to be in need of service let your humble maid take good care of you," Yang said pulling her top and letting her massive tits pop free. She pressed them against his chest and dragged them down his body as she got to her knees. She pulled down his pants his cock slapping against her. She licked her lips before she began to kiss the tip and lick the glands of his member. Precum dripped into the blonde brawlers mouth making her shiver, Yang then wrapped her mountainous milk tanks around the throbbing muscle and began to titfuck her Master.

"So good," Jaune groaned digging his nails into his palms.

"You honor me Master~," Yang no longer ashamed instead turned on by calling Jaune the name, "Only the best for you" She punctuated the statement by kissing the tip of his cock.

Yang continued to titfuck and suck his cock until, "I'm close," he groaned only for Yang to stop and gently push Jaune back into his recliner.

"As your maid I can't condone making a mess," she began to crawl atop him, "you'll need to cum somewhere else" She pulled her panties down and redid her garters

..............

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH SO FULL," Yang cried out as she plunged herself onto Jaune's cock

"Tight," was all Jaune could groan as Yang began to ride him.

The buxom brawler bounced wildly electricity surging through her as Jaune's dick slammed against her cervix and the shaft scraped her g spots.

Her soft round ass slapped against his muscular thighs and her huge knockers jiggled and shook all over before Jaune grabbed one and roughly pressed his mouth against the other.

"Ahhhhh yes Master play with my tits. They belong to you," Yang doubled her efforts of riding.

Minutes passed until finally both cried out as they climaxed together. They fell back onto the chair panting as they basked in the after glow.

..........

The next day they were with their friends Yang wearing a more modest uniform due to being in public. "So Yang I hoped you learned your lesson about acting smug and setting up bets like this," Weiss smirking.

"Maybe Maybe nnnnnaaaaaahhh," Yang clenched her thighs.

Six of her friends popped from their seats to see if she was ok, except Jaune who was messing on his scroll, Specifically the app to control Yang's vibrator.

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notnctu · 4 years

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nct 127 as cliche quotes❀

『 nct 127 as cliche quotes about love & some more 』 genre - pure fluff member x gender neutral reader (i tried my best ;-;) [a/n] hi yall this is author doie❀ i really ditched watching my lectures to write this so pls leave me feedback if u like dis bc would really appreciate it hehee i am now behind on school work hahaha i love bad decisions!!

➳ MOON TAEIL - ❝ i love you to the moon and back ❞

“sugar”, “my only one”, “bubby”, long phone calls, suffocating hugs, goofy dancing to loud music, jumping on the bed, picnics in the field, regular date nights, goodmorning/night kisses, food adventures, light snores, tiny grins at the mention of you, wherever he goes: the sun follows, you are his stars.

taeil has the whole universe to thank for your simple existence. he’ll take you star gazing and point out everything he loves about you. because if there is anything he loves more in the world, is how his night sky complemented you. His love for you runs deep and stretches far, resonating high in the galaxies. Incomparable lengths of love that cannot be expressed without metaphors. He’s constant reminders of how fitting you two are. he’ll make way for your shining light, even if that meant he disappears during the day. but he’ll always be there for your nights.

➳ LEE TAEYONG - ❝ love is patient ❞

“darling”, “bub”, “angel”, 3am cuddles to calm your nightmares, hours of gentle whispers of sweet nothings, softest touches, nose kisses, quick pecks on the lip, afternoon naps, long walks in the park hand in hand, he is the light in your darkness.

taeyong would wait until the ends of the earth for your healing. for your journey to self love, he’ll be there every step of the way. he’ll make sure every hurt disappears, if that had to mean small sacrifices of himself. because to him, you always come first. he’ll listen to your complains, he’ll understand your burdens, he’ll remember your heavy sighs. he’s the first call you make in the morning. you are his last call he makes at night. he is meaningful talks and supportive words. he’s the reassurance that never falters. he’s the strength at your weakest.

➳ SUH JOHNNY - ❝ i love you, not only for you what you are, but for what i am when i am with you ❞

“hottie”, “tiny” (regardless of height), “babygirl/boy”, most comforting hugs, humbling conversations, piggy back rides, hand on your thigh while driving, comfy hoodies and pj pants, weekend adventures, long road trips, polaroids, subtle matching outfits, he makes you a better version of yourself.

johnny’s big heart had the ability to touch even the coldest of people. he’ll hold you in his lap and tell you to reach beyond the stars. he is your number one supporter in every aspect of life, the world’s best hype man. you complement everything. he’s lucky to have you. he wants absolutely no one else in the world, but you. you are an evolution to be explored. he has an attracting personality that you can’t get enough of. he’ll show you the world through his modest lens, correcting your ignorance in the most respectful way. role model, constantly improving. he is your guide through a complex world.

➳ NAKAMOTO YUTA - ❝ love has no flaws ❞

“cutie”, “love”, “your name”, intense admiring stares, a love that cannot be contained, cheek kisses, kissing to the sunset, happiness at your fingertips, constant teasing, small screams of excitement, honey dripping praises, you are his daydreams.

yuta acknowledges you for who you are, what you make up. there is no effort for change because he genuinely loves you for all of you. to him, you are the perfect human being, where flaws are seen as a part of your beauty. he loves you enough for the both of you. encourages, versus criticism. he has nothing but admiration for your physical attributes and stunning personality. all he needs from you is a simple loving gaze, or a comforting hold. you could do no wrong. you are excellence in your own uniqueness. you are the reasons behind his growing smiles. he never asks for more than needs, though over extends himself to you. he sees you truly for the real you.

➳ KIM DOYOUNG - ❝ actions speak louder than words ❞

“sweetie/heart”, “honey”, always reaching for your hand to hold, flustered compliments, nervous laughter, sweet red cheeks, dainty promise rings, comfortable silences, homemade dinners, reassuring hand on your knee, your favorite book of poems, thick skin, confused funny facial expressions, you are his comfort.

doyoung often times stammers over his thoughts. he is usually a collected person, but you always break his guard down. he is unspoken words, and sweaty hands. he’s tender touches and quiet looks. the mutual atmosphere of knowing you love each other. Sweet talks on your end, and shy, bashful smiles on his. he’s at your will and call. he’s drop everything for you. he’s daily gestures to minimize inconvenience. if his love for you is questioned, he’d respond with a snarky none of your business. because frankly, he didn’t need anyone else to know besides you how much he loves you.

➳ JUNG JAEHYUN - ❝ it was love at first sight ❞

“baby”, “princess/prince”, “my dear”, charming smiles, arm around the waist, bouquet of your favorite flowers just because, the sweetest love you’d ever find, shy gazes, butterflies in your stomach, comfort in his cuddles, blissful sugary kisses, don’t blink! or you’ll miss him: he’s every meticulous, beautiful detail of life.

jaehyun knew the moment he laid eyes on you that he wanted to spend his days with you. on the contrary, he loves your personality the most but never fails to boast about how you are the most beautiful person ever. you take his breath away. he makes your heart race. gets shy at the thought of you, but drones on for hours about how happy you make him. he’s every love language combined into one. he’s sometimes a timid character, a bit shy. you are the center of attention because he loves to see you glow. he knows he’s in love with you. he’s found the only you, who makes him fall in love with life. he’s a happily ever after.

➳ KIM JUNGWOO - ❝ opposites attract ❞

“bud”, “babe”, “pumpkin”, staying up and loving you until dawn, teary eyed uncontrollable laughter, loud confessions of love, a love so random that it keeps you on your toes, love bites that are purposefully hard to cover, gentle hand squeezes when he holds your hand, adorable sound effects, half of a whole: he completes you.

jungwoo loves your differences the most. it gives him another perspective to marvel in. bc it gave you two a stronger bond. he didn’t believe in a perfect love --- no --- he believes in hard work and dedication. he knew the day you two met, he was determined to make things work. because he fell in love with everything you were that he was not. you are the caution to his wind. unknowingly, you fill the rest of who he has always admired and wanted to achieve. and together, you two are unstoppable. you are his missing puzzle piece. he is the acceptance you needed. he’s an one in a million.

➳ LEE MARK - ❝ loving you is too easy ❞

“my person”, “best friend”, “love of my life”, truly a boy next door who falls for the person next door, always thinking of you, secret kisses when no one is looking, playful shared giggles, the widest smiles, never a doubt in mind, late night drives, you are his match made in heaven.

communication is your strongest asset in the relationship. the best parts of mark are his understanding and considerate nature. he gets you better than anyone you’ve ever known. he makes sure you’re seen, appreciated. you are everything he’s been searching for. you are the definition of an ideal partner. there’s never a question of your relationship, he makes sure you are loved. whether that be through grabbing you lunch out of his way. whether that be asking about your day. whether that be forehead kisses in the mornings. whether that be a long speech of why he loves you. he is the true meaning of good vibes. he didn’t have anything to dislike. loving him was the best and easiest decision of your life. he is the best you’ve ever had.

➳ LEE DONGHYUCK - ❝ love comes when you least expect it ❞

“wifey/hubby”, “my everything”, “soulmate”, the emotional 4am thoughts of self worth, a cathartic epiphany, a love that’s always been in front of you, light banter, snarky sly smirks, always holding you in some way, belting notes in the shower, late night serenades, cheek squishing, he’s a wish upon a star.

donghyuck has always been there for you and that is something unchanging. he’s bringing you dinner after long nights of studying. he’s showing at your door step when you need someone to comfort you. he is there for every lost cause of a relationship. the pick up the pieces and mend you back together. when you had given up on love, he never gave up on you. it took one fun drunk night and a lingering touch on your cheek for you to realize that his love for you had always been there. he wanted you more than any person in your life. all it took was him to realize that he was never going to leave you. he is the last person you would expect to be your’s. but you are the first person he wishes happiness for. he is a one true love.

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ka-za-ri · 4 years

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Some Diavolo x Sago bullshit drabbling because I kept telling myself I’d do it. Also an excuse to flesh her out a little more lmao. I’m a sucker for the red thread of fate stuff.

Diavolo’s world was made of an intricate web. One full of dark strings which he needed to pull to gain the power and the results he wanted. Thousands of connections created a complicated network that held together delicately. Should one of those strings snap, a hundred others could come loose and the web he created would quickly unravel. He played a dangerous game, continuously adding more and more strings to reinforce what connections he already had.

He always kept a running tally of connections whenever he held gatherings. It was necessary to ensure the fragile balance he had was maintained by pushing and pulling specific diplomats and powerful witches into his presence at precise times. It was something he had curated over thousands of years not without a few connections breaking or becoming tangled in his web, but he was in control of it all.

Parties were a way for him to keep tabs on those relations. Though he tried to maintain a proper cheerful mask, there were times where he had been tried and the pull of thousands of a thousand strings kept his emotions from slipping too far from his grasp. It was those times which always reminded him of how heavy his responsibilities were.

Diavolo was used to receiving lavish gifts whenever he hosted a gathering. Ornate baubles and curiosities from every corner of the realm decorated his castle. He cherished everything that was gifted to him regardless of how useful he found it to be in the end. He was used to receiving the best of the best and it almost became an expectation of sorts for guests to outdo the previous gifts they’ve given to him.

The human exchange student was unaware of this custom and was surprised to say the least to see a portion of the great hall dedicated to the gifts given to the prince. He expected nothing from her of course. She was his precious guest and he wouldn’t dream of subjecting her to provide something she had no means of acquiring. Still, it was endearing whenever she would present him with humble handmade gifts.

If anything, he cherished those presents the most. It was easy to scour the ends of the world for a rare treasure, but to create something unique was even more magical. He could feel the care and feelings exuding from each one of the modest offerings. He curated a small shelf in his office to house them all, often he found himself admiring the craftsmanship and effort that went into them whenever he needed a motivation boost to reassure him that his grand plan was indeed the right path to be taking.

The party he hosted today was no different from the others. The pile of offerings grew as the guests filtered in. His eyes scanned the visitors, a cordial smile plastered on his face as he admired the denizens of his realm and the fruits of his labor when he saw the human exchange student mingling comfortably. To say it had been a long and arduous journey to get her to be comfortable, but he was glad it was finally paying off as she flitted from person to person, chatting with them and laughing brightly at whatever jests she might have shared.

She perked up when she caught Diavolo’s eye from across the great hall. Sago grinned from ear to ear, excusing herself before hurriedly weaving between the guests to get to him. “I brought you a gift this time too!” She exclaimed happily, a bit breathless from crossing the hall so quickly. “Close your eyes and give me your hand!”

Diavolo’s brows raised in curiosity but he humored her, closing his eyes for the time being and held his hand out upturned to receive the promised gift. He heard the fabric of her gown rustling and she mumbled to herself as she fumbled for what she was looking for. He could hear the chatter of his guests around him impatiently waiting for a moment to speak with him. A part of him wanted to cheat and take a peek at what it was she was digging out of a hidden pocket.

“A hah there it is.” She exclaimed happily.

He felt her calloused hands turn his hand over and after a bit of mumbling to herself he felt something slip around his pinky. “Okay! You can open your eyes now!”

Diavolo looked down at his hand to see a thin red string tied around his finger. He blinked in confusion. Of all the gifts she had given him, this was possibly the most baffling. Upon closer inspection, it looked clearly homespun and colored.

“May the thread of fate that binds us tangle, but never break.” She said with the confidence of someone weaving a spell. As soon as those words left her lips, it felt as if a contract had been sealed between them. There was an air of seriousness in her mismatched eyes that had him solemnly swearing to never let this particular bond break.

And with a blink, Sago was grinning again, proud of her handiwork that was now tied to the Prince’s finger. “I collected a bunch of spider silk and learned how to spin! It’s pretty cool, right? Oh! And don’t forget to feed the slime mold I gave you the last time! You can’t let Barbatos do all the work for you!” She chided.

It looked like she was about to say something else, but her attention was taken away from him when one of the brothers had called for her. Turning heel to run towards the person hailing her, Diavolo noticed a familiar flash of red tied to her own pinky before she was no longer in his line of sight.

He smiled softly at that fact. Perhaps, not all threads in his web needed to be dark. Some could be a bright red tied to a carefree smile and mismatched eyes.

#OM! MC #My MC is pure chaos and I love her #my writing #I'll get back to reader-insert stuff soon I promise

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whenimaunicorn · 4 years

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Pretty Boy

Fandom: The Last Kingdom Characters: Uhtred x Reader Rating: Explicit

This is a request for @tephi101 - Happy Yule!!! I took a stab at enemies to lovers in 3000 words... ok 3059... I don’t think you’ll begrudge me the final 59 words though ;)

Your camp for the journey’s first night is secluded, in a small ravine far enough from the road that your warriors are not likely to be noticed by any passers-by. You are not yet in Earl Alfheim’s territory, but even here it would be better not to be seen; anyone might carry tales of armed men, and wonder where they are going. You sit now around a modest fire with your most loyal men: Burki, Thurgild, and Sigurd. A small goatskin full of ale, courtesy of Thurgild’s provisions, is passing around the group before you settle in for the night.

Raucous laughs drift up to your ears. “Curse them for fools,” you hiss.

The disturbance is coming from another fire, a separate camp set up just about a hundred yards away. Uhtred’s men.

Burki turns and spits in their general direction. “I don’t like working with Saxons.”

“Working for Saxons,” Thurgild corrects. “Most of the men he brought are as Dane as the rest of us. Funny how Alfred is getting so many of his enemies to do his bidding.”

You swallow a warm mouthful of ale, then pass the canteen along. “He gave us no choice,” you remind your crew. “And I’d much rather be smelling this cool night air than the stink of a Wessex dungeon.”

Sigurd tips the mouthpiece of the bag toward you in silent agreement before taking a drink.

A sour twist remains on Burki’s mouth. “Still, adds insult to injury to be partnered with the very man that tied you up and brought you in, don’t you think Y/N?”

You growl at the reminder. “Uhtred got lucky when he caught me, that was all. We’ll give him the slip just as soon as this promise is fulfilled. Then go somewhere far from the reach of Alfred and his hirelings.”

Sigurd finishes his lengthy swallow, then with a satisfied sigh and tosses the visibly lightened skin at Thurgild. “That’s the end of it.” He stands, ignoring the group’s groans of disappointment at such an early depletion of the ale. “I’m turning in. A lot of ground to cover tomorrow, before we can set to spying.”

Your other men stand too, with grunts of begrudging agreement. Only you remain seated, your mood blackened. You nod them off and scowl into the fire.

A moment later you whirl at the crunch of leaves to your right.

Firelight gleams off the fair face of Uhtred Ragnarsson, the traitor who now calls himself Uhtred of Bebbanburg. He tries a winsome grin as he approaches the seat beside you, so recently vacated by Sigurd.

“Watch it, pretty boy,” you say. Thurgild is still close enough to hear you, pausing on the way to his tent to look back. You wave him off and glare up at Uhtred. “What makes you think you are welcome by my fire?”

Uhtred tosses his twisted hair and sits down anyway. At least he still dresses as a Dane. “Since you called me pretty,” he smirks. He lifts a goatskin. “And because I have ale to share.”

You refuse to allow his sparkling eyes to soften your own scowl, but you reach out for the peace offering. He keeps a hold of it, sliding closer to you along the log, his expression playful and what some women might consider tempting. You huff and snatch the skin away from him.

The calculation in Uhtred’s eyes changes as he watches you drink and stare back at him flatly. He looks toward your warriors, disappearing into their tents. “Which one of them is your man?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as a better retort comes to mind. “They all are,” you deadpan, watching surprise make his cheeky confidence falter. “I sleep in Sigurd’s tent on Thor’s day, Burki’s on Freya’s day…” you trail off as Uhtred’s eyebrows climb. “You are surprised? What, do you not handle it this way with your men? Don’t tell me you all hump together, at the same time…” You scowl and give up the ruse as Uhtred’s brows crease in offense. “None of them is ‘my man,’ fool. I don’t need to share a bed with them to have their loyalty. They follow me because they respect me, as I am certain your men do too.”

Uhtred leans back, palms lifting. “I meant to imply no such thing.”

“You only wanted to know how I could possibly resist your charms, then.”

“Perhaps,” is all he says staring now into the fire. You definitely seem to have taken the wind out of his sails.

“We should make plans for how we will approach the fort tomorrow.”

Alone with Uhtred, scooting up a ridge on your bellies, you peer down at the fort to inspect its defenses. Apparently he, like you, would rather take the risk to see things for himself than try to piece together a plan from information reported by his men. Absently, you wonder how your two groups are getting along as they wait for their commanders to return.

A little checkpoint has been set up on the road below, and the guards change as you watch.

Uhtred leans closer than he needs to, making sure his voice won’t carry. His breath tickles your ear as he speaks with the barest rumble of vocalization. “Did you see the signal the man flashed as he approached?”

You made the same gesture with your hand. “They must not always know the faces of their replacements. We could use that.”

Uhtred seems likely to say something else, but you hear a crunching in the brush somewhere behind your position. It could be an animal, but better to be sure. Without wasting time on saying anything, you shove at Uhtred’s shoulder, rolling him under the cover of the bushes off to the right.

You wind up on top of him, pressed together from chest to knee as you share the tiny hiding space. His breath is warm on your cheek as you peer out from under obscuring twigs.

Uhtred chuckles, creating very interesting movements in the warm body beneath yours. “Y/N, if you wanted to roll around with me—”

You cut him off with a hiss and a glare. A dry branch snaps not too far away and Uhtred’s face goes serious too. He looks out toward the source of the sound and then neither of you move another muscle, other than the soft rise and fall of your chests, pressed together, breathing in sync as you listen.

Someone is stomping in your direction. You feel the flex of Uhtred’s pectoral muscle as he moves his arm carefully, quietly. A moment later he presses the hilt of a weapon into your hand.

The footfalls grow closer. Uhtred tries to signal something to you with his eyes, but you aren’t certain of his meaning. Only that he intends you to be ready to strike. You can see your opponent’s feet now, and they stop suspiciously near.

You hear the sound of steel clearing a scabbard. Uhtred’s arm whips up, and a stone clatters several paces away. He’s made a distraction, surely intending for you to roll out of the bushes and strike.

You launch yourself out from under the cover and make a sweep for the man’s legs. A single cry escapes his throat as he goes down, but you’re sure to silence him the instant his throat is within reach.

Uhtred remains in a crouch after crawling out behind you. He looks around warily, then flashes you a warm smile. “I knew you would make quick work of that.”

“I told you before, pretty boy, I’m better than you.” You wipe blood from the blade on the warrior’s coat and then toss Uhtred’s dagger back to him. “You only got lucky the day that you caught me.”

“I am beginning to believe it,” he answers, surprisingly humble. “I am glad that we are now on the same side.”

You force a small smile. Don’t be so certain of that. You kick at the body. “We’d better hide this and move on.”

Luck runs out as the day progresses. The next patrol that runs into you is dispatched too, but with much more effort, and you both take wounds in the process. That, and one of the horses spooks, so you are now left sharing a saddle as your remaining mount carries you both back to your hidden base. Still, Uhtred seems inexplicably cheerful. The music of laughter touches his voice as he speaks behind you. “Earl Alfheim will surely notice three of his patrolmen missing from his hall tonight.”

“So we’ve lost the element of surprise,” you grumble.

Uhtred’s arms squeeze once against your sides. He insisted he needed to lean against you for balance, holding on to the front of the saddle between your legs, but you suspect his wound is not actually that bad. “That is what he will think, yes. He will draw in his men, and lock his fort up tight, believing we made a mistake.”

“Didn’t we?”

You don’t have to turn to know that Uhtred is grinning. “Not necessarily.” His hair brushes your cheek, bringing with it the musky scent of a vigorous man. “He will retreat into his hole, expecting us to try to attack him there. Meanwhile, we will be stealing his cattle. Perhaps we’ll take the town, as well.”

You frown. “Do we have enough men to do that?”

“We don’t,” Uhtred says cheerfully. You feel like smacking the insufferable man. “Not to hold any of it. But if we annoy him enough, he will send his men out to take these things back, and in the streets of the town, or out driving cattle, each one of our warriors is worth three of his.”

“We barely took three of his today,” you remind him.

Uhtred waves his hand. The gesture is so close to your body that you are surprised with an involuntary thrill, a sudden wish that that hand had actually brushed up against you. “Only because we were trying to be quiet. They would be no match at all in open combat.”

“You plan to get lucky again, then.”

“Always.”

The rest of the ride back is excruciating, not because of the pain in your side, but because you keep expecting Uhtred to lay his hands on you and it never comes. His voice is sweet in your ear, his body warm and intriguing at your back, and the sway of the horse creates a friction of your haunches against his hips that you imagine has to be driving him mad. But not once do his hands creep to your thighs, nor do his lips brush along your neck, nor any of the other number of things you wait with baited breath for him to try on you. He had been so interested in flirting with you before. What had changed?

And so the ride is painful for you not physically, but in your soul. Because as Uhtred continues to not touch you, you are forced to realize how desperately you want him to. Working together today, with the respect he showed for your skill, and the ease with which you both took to coordinating in battle, it was as if you had danced together already. A glimpse that gave you confidence in how well your bodies would slide and fit together under the furs, as well…

You might have caught something in his eye just as you are dismounting, after returning to the camp. But his men are fussing over the injury in his leg, and Thurgild is ushering you off in the other direction so he can examine the gash across your stomach.

It’s nothing, really. A shallow strike, the bleeding easily stopped. But when Uhtred appears hours later with the offer of some magic ointment to soothe your wound, you don’t send him away. You beckon him closer, nestling back into your furs, and draw your tunic up and show him your bandage without a word.

There’s something heavy in his eyes as he kneels down beside you. You know how you must look, laying flat on your back with your trousers loose and belt-less for sleep, holding the hem of your tunic up just beneath your breasts. It’s hard not to flinch, to go rigid and ready for action, as this warrior who so recently hunted you down now looms over you. But it’s exciting, too. To expose your soft belly to him, to force yourself to remain completely vulnerable under his gaze.

There’s a sting as Uhtred removes the cloth bandaging your wound. You give no sign of the sensation other than holding your breath. He gives a satisfied nod at the state of your wound. “Not deep.”

“Not deep,” you agree. Thurgild only had to sew it together with a few stitches in the middle. You’ve had worse.

Uhtred opens his jar, scoops out a jellied paste with two fingertips. “This has a bite at first, but once it soaks in it will numb everything.”

“Good. That ache was starting to get annoying.”

He starts at one edge of your wound, working it in gently. The sting is immediate and your body twitches. Uhtred’s other hand comes down on your flank, steadying, soothing, and he makes a low humming sound under his breath. “Trust me.”

And you realize that you do. Somewhere during the wild engagement that got you this wound, Uhtred had earned your respect.

The fingers of his left hand continue to play over your skin, bared between hip and ribs, in silent distraction as he spreads the stinging ointment with his right. The edge of the wound he had started with is already sinking into blissful silence.

You arch your back just a little, not enough to disturb his work, only hoping to encourage that left hand. Uhtred’s calloused palm feels as good as you’d hoped, warm and strong as it conforms to your curves.

He finishes with the ointment, and wipes his right hand dry. He does not stop touching you with his left. You stare up at him from your pillow of furs, not saying anything, hoping the look in your eyes is enough. Your pride won’t let you admit out loud to this man what you want from him.

His thumb strokes your side once, twice more. He examines your face, his own expression unreadable, though his perfect lips are softly parted like they are readying for a kiss. Then he looks down at your belly, turns, and sets to work applying a fresh bandage.

He does not look back up at your face. But as you watch his eyelashes flutter, it feels that he is memorizing the sight of your curves under his hands. And when the bandaging is done, he does not rise, does not lift his hands from your body, does not utter a single word.

Uhtred leans in, long hair brushing against your flank, and presses a single kiss just below your navel. The sensation sends ripples through your entire being. The whiskers on his chin tickle your lower belly as he tips his face up to regard you with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “I can think of one other way to soothe your pain.” Cheeky fingers curl around the top of your trousers.

You groan a little at the way your body responds, a flash of heat stabbing through your core, but the look of triumph that passes across Uhtred’s face annoys you. “Humping seems likely to break open fresh wounds,” you point out. “Thurgild would have your head.”

“Not humping,” Uhtred responds with a grin. “We’ll save that until you have healed.” Then he starts drawing the fabric down.

He removes your trousers slowly, pausing to kiss each new inch of bared skin. Every press of his lips kills any protest trying to formulate itself in your mind. You will just have to trust that he’s up to something you won’t regret.

When he has your lower half completely bare, his lips do not cease their work, kissing your thighs soft and slow, melting the tension out of your legs with massaging hands. He settles his body between your knees, spreading you more and more open, until you feel the air against your cunt, wet and waiting.

His kisses travel in that direction, along your inner thighs, and you inhale slowly in anticipation. You had not expected Uhtred to be so generous a lover as this. But if he is this intent on proving why you should yield to him, you are wholly ready to lay back and enjoy it.

His finger slides along your slit, just before his tongue follows. He emits a soft growl as he presses your legs apart wider, almost impatiently, and then his hot mouth closes over the little bud of pleasure just above your opening.

You suck in air, fingers curling through the furs at your sides, as Uhtred takes you on the ride of your life. He wields his tongue even better than his blade, and you praise whatever woman must have taught this to him, so he has such skill to share with you now. You start to moan, desperate little sounds, as an answering pressure rises inside you; hot, liquid pleasure that feels likely to drown. And when Uhtred pushes two long fingers inside you, beneath his still-sucking mouth, you arch your back and choke off a scream.

His hand finds yours, fingers curling together, anchoring you as that pleasure explodes into something about to overwhelm your sanity. You feel no shame in sobbing his name as you climax, all pride vanished under this wicked tongue.

He licks you steadily as you shudder and unwind, holding your hand firmly, not relenting until you push him off and shut your knees against the sensitivity. Uhtred laughs and slides up to lay beside you, arm scooping in around your chest, mindful of your belly wound. The one you can’t feel at all anymore.

“I like the way you call my name,” he murmurs pridefully into your ear. He nips it playfully. “And surely your men must have heard that.”

You give him a lazy swat, already feeling too sleepy to engage him properly. “Surely, that was your plan all along.”

“Perhaps.”

Read more fics from the Let’s Be Danes For Yule event!

My TLK taglist: @ceridwenofwales @oddsnendsfanfics@laketaj24 @thewildbeauty @geekandbooknerd @therealcalicali @tiyetiye @pokeasleepingsmaug@goldentailedmermaids @sifshoney @titty-teetee @savismith @ariellostatci @perfectus-in-morte @axiseeu12 @kingofshadowalkers @glitta-killa @equalstrashflavoredtrash @inforapound @kawennote09 @fandomfic-galore

#let's be danes for yule #uhtred of bebbanburg #uhtred ragnarson #uhtred x reader #uhtred imagine

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lovesnightwriter · 3 years

Text

Monica and Darren - Epilogue

Epilogue

Monica closed the last box of dishes that lay open on the kitchen floor. The sun shined brightly across her slim brown face as she looked up from sliding the final strip of packing tape across the box marked “kitchen”. She could feel the beads of sweat forming on her hairline as she finished her work and silently cursed herself for not remembering to tie her hair down before she started packing. As she moved about the small kitchen floor she couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment from the scattered mini mountains of small boxes. All of these boxes meant a move was finally coming.

She got a job offer four weeks after finishing grad school and was leaving Columbus for the Chocolate City and all of the adventures it would bring. Not only was she starting her dream job but her finance, Darren, agreed to make the move with her. The timing couldn’t be better since he just finished law school and they were waiting on bar exam results to be released any day now. The paces of moving was a welcome distraction for both of them. Monica smiled with pride thinking about how Darren managed long nights in the library studying for the bar exam, working a part time job as a youth football couch and helping her maintain a sense of sanity through grad school.

“It’s all coming together,” Monica beamed and said to no one in particular.

For years she dreamed of having a career as a high powered lobbyist, a fine husband and beautiful babies. All of the boxes were getting checked and while things weren’t always fireworks with Darren she knew he was a solid guy. He was hardworking and committed. Dutiful and loyal to his family, friends and teammates. His loyalty was chief among the traits Monica loved about him.

Darren being a football phenom in the midwest regularly had ESPN pundits discussing his performance on the field. It helped that he was likeable with a magnetic personality and didn’t indulge in off-the-field antics like other high profile players in the Big 10 division. While he excelled on the field and earned notoriety for his powerful arm, off the field he laid low. He attended the occasional campus party and participated in program sponsored events, but other than that he was unusually focused on being a student athlete with hopes of playing in the NFL. That was the dream and the ultimate goal. And nothing came between him and the dream. Many of the other players, accustomed to the attention and privileges that being a star football player offered would secretly tease Darren about his straight and narrow ways when he wasn’t around. Nobody teased him or dared to bully him to his face because as a leader on the squad and one of the few students held in high regard with the coaching staff, being on his good side meant more playing time. He attended classes, never asked for any extraperks with professors and stayed away from the temptations that plagued other athletes. For years he planned on his ticket out of Ohio getting punched on draft day and he navigated the collegiate landmines with precision to ensure that it happened.

Tall and handsome Darren was the star quarterback at Ohio State but a career ending knee injury against Penn State ended his football dreams his junior year weeks before he was to declare for the NFL. Monica was in the stands for the powerful blindside that ended his football career and wanted to run to the field when she saw him laid out on the turf surrounded by coaches and team doctors. He had to be taken off the field in the medical cart since he was unable to walk. With a towel draped over his face to hide his tears of pain and knowledge of what had just happened, he didn’t need x-rays or doctors to tell him he was done playing football. The silence of the stadium was unlike anything either of them had ever experienced. Thousands of fans watching their star player’s career ending and all Darren had to hide his fear and tears was a small white towel.

Monica was there to help him figure out what life after the game looked like. After several late nights spent crying from shame and depression to Monica, he bought into her dream of them being a high-powered couple moving and making deals. Him as a lawyer and her as a savvy lobbyist. Thankfully his diligence in his course work would allow him to easily get into the University’s law school. With Monica’s masterminding, he released a statement officially retiring from football but remaining an active member on campus with hopes of graduation from the prestigious law school once he finished undergrad. He said he hoped to bring pride to the school in a different way and that he would need the support of the entire campus to help him get through these next few years as he transitioned from player to fan. University administrators ate it up and all but ensured his entrance into the law program.

That wasn’t so long ago, but seemed like a lifetime. Classes, hustling to keep money in their pockets, landing internships and graduating from their respective programs kept them busy. Over the years they’d had their fair share of disagreements when times were tense, but always came back together, literally and figuratively.

Speaking of coming back together, Monica could see his muscular frame just on the other side of their one bedroom apartment. He looked like a giant in the small one bedroom apartment and was making quick work of moving all of their boxes from inside to the moving truck two floors below. She wanted to go to him and make-up after this morning's dust up over misplaced toiletries but figured it best to wait until all of the packing was done.

While he wouldn’t say it, Monica knew he was excited about this move also. The days leading up to today had been strained, but Monica remained laser focused, avoiding potential arguments like active landmines and ensuring she kept Darren in a good mood or else they would start one of the countless “discussions” on why he should stay in Columbus for a little while longer until he was able to save money and “figure things out”. Any discussion with Darren, was the equivalent of arguing a case to Monica. He was always ready with a rebuttal and while his LSAT days were long behind him, Monica felt like she was the one having the logic games played on her whenever they had a difference of opinion. In retrospect, his constant need to defend his logic made her laugh often because he initially questioned a career in law. Monica always saw the qualities of a great lawyer in him, even if he couldn’t. To her, there wasn’t much to figure out. The odds of finding a law position were much higher in D.C. than Ohio, plus the experience would be invaluable to the trajectory of his career. He could always come back to Ohio after he stacked his resume with high profile D.C. positions. She had enough money from her bar waitressing gig to get them through the month it would take for her first payroll check to come through from her new job. The plan was already in motion and like a true mastermind Monica just needed Darren to move as she instructed.

Once the kitchen was packed, Monica walked out through the french doors and across the living room. All that remained was a small brown loveseat that was being left for her little sister, and two duffle bags of clothes with odds and ends to get them through the five hour drive comfortably.

“We had some good times in this place”, said Monica looking around the 800 square foot space.

“Oh, now you want to get all nostalgic on me,” Darren said back to Monica rolling his eyes.

“When we first moved in here you hated this place. You used to put toilet paper down to pee in your own apartment, no matter how many times I cleaned it” Darren stated not wanting to participate in her stroll down memory lane.

Monica chuckled, “Wow I forgot all about that, I just had to get comfortable in the space. You know how picky I can be about my space.”

Darren’s response was a simple passing glance and “hmph” as he lifted two boxes from the kitchen and made a beeline for the front door.

He was right. Monica hated the apartment when he first showed it to her online and even more when they looked at it in person. It was small and had very little natural light. The building smelled old and the place was a magnet for dust since there was no forced air ventilation system. But it was close to school and within their modest budget.

“Is this the last of it?,” Darren asked, doing a sweeping glance of the empty space of what used to be their home.

“Yep, that’s it” Monica replied with an eager smile.

The place felt barren, and while it was small Monica had worked hard to make it feel more grander than the humble bare bones apartment that it was when they moved in. All of the framed posters featuring replicas of fine art by Bernie Casey and Lois Mailou Jones had been taken down and gently wrapped for the journey to D.C.

To Monica the place didn’t even smell the same. The candles she left on warmers in various areas of the apartment were also packed, taking with them the familiar scents of warm spicy clove and mandarin orange. Darren used to complain about all of the different smells but eventually he let it go. He never said much about the effort Monica put in to decorate or make the space feel cozy. Monica often walked into their bedroom in the mornings to find the throw pillows on the floor or the duvet scrunched up at the foot of the bed with him long gone in the shower or getting ready for the day with little thought to put things back in order. The thought made Monica roll her eyes as she took stock of what little was left to pack. They were leaving this place as they found it. It was time for someone else to put their mark on the space. Monica felt hunger pain and snapped out of her thoughts of leaving the space.

“I was gonna go to Fernando’s to grab a pizza for dinner, figured we would end this how we started. A nice romantic dinner of pizza on the floor”, Monica said with a chuckle as she grabbed her keys and gave Darren a quick peck and walked out their apartment door.

As she walked out of the two-story building she realized she would miss this place. It was nothing fancy, and needed a lot of love but it was the start of she and Darren’s adult relationship. A place and space all their own.

*****

When Monica returned she smelled Darron’s body wash in the air and heard the stream of the shower. She set the pizza down in the kitchen and quietly walked to the bathroom where she found a naked Darron covered in soapy suds.

Thankful for her stop at the local beauty store to get a new bonnet and scarf on her way back from grabbing dinner she would need them sooner than she thought. Quietly she undressed, wrapped up her hair and covered it with the bonnet. It wasn’t the sexiest look but Darren grew accustomed to the site years ago and dared not ask her to remove it and potentially mess up her silk pressed tresses.

Monica slowly entered the shower behind Darron and caressed his back, making a mmmmm sound as she worked her hands over his broad shoulders.

He jumped briefly then realized it was Monica, “you can’t be walking up on people like that,” Darron said, only half joking.

“Well, I wanted to wash your back. May I?” Monica extended her hand for his soapy rag.

Monica scrubbed in an exaggerated fashion at first, earning her a low laugh and “alright now” from Darren. Then she turned him around so their bodies were front to front. She saw Darron’s gaze fall to her 34C breast and knew he wanted to touch them.

Darron was a body man. Most men had a preference between breast or butt on a woman. He liked to say he preferred ample amounts of TNA, tits and ass. Thankfully Monica’s 5’6 , 140 build gave him just enough of both to be satisfied.

Before Darron could reach out and begin fondling her, Monica dropped into a squat balancing on her toes, careful to keep Darron’s body in front of the hot stream of the shower head and to avoid getting her hair wet. She took Darren’s semi erect penis in her mouth and groaned in pleasure. Within seconds Darren was fully erect and Monica could taste a small trickle of pre-cum in the back of her throat.

Monica loved how Darren tasted, loved how the head of his dick would fill the back of her throat as she sucked him off. Slowly, Monica started to take Darren further into her mouth, while she sucked she made sure to use one hand to massage his sack and the other to stroke his dick as she sucked. Monica could feel Darren’s body relax. That was the goal, she knew he was stressed about the move and wanted to take his mind off of things. All of the “what if’s” and questions about how it would all come together. Once Darren was nice and hard Monica looked up and asked Darren, “What do you want to do?”

“How would you like to cum.”

The words dripped off of Monica’s lips like thick syrup. Eyes locked in on Darren she smacked his dick on her outstretched tongue and let a pool of saliva sit on her tongue creating the perfect “splash” so spittl would land around her mouth as she softly bobbed him up and down on her tongue.

Hearing no request she decided for him, pearl necklace it is.

Monica went from a squatting position to a full two-point kneeling position. It was tricky in the tight shower but she made it work.

She started to suck harder, using both hands to massage Darren as she sucked, being mindful to put on a show as her head bobbed up and down his hard shaft. Monica gagged and her eyeliner began to run as she massaged and sucked. Monica secretly relished being on her knees, or back or any other position that allowed her to have his hard dick in her face. Several times she wondered if she was obsessed with him but chalked it up to him being the person she’d ever been with. She didn’t know anyone or anything else.

As the saliva gathered in the corners of her mouth, Monica continued to suck until she could feel Darren’s body tense.

“Ugh, I’m not done yet”, Monica thought to herself.

Down on the floor of the shower she was an ameature pornstar, staring in her own dirty flick. She wasn’t a polished and buttoned up co-Ed. No, in these moments she wanted to be his fantasy. She wanted to go further, get nastier. In her mind, Darren would grab her face and fuck her mouth making her gag and hold the shower wall to keep from falling as he rammed himself into her hungry mouth. Or maybe rub his hard dick all over her face asking her if she deserved a taste—make a mess of her minimal makeup while cum and gag tears ran down her chin from the act. Any form of him taking control of her, showing her how he wanted to meet his release. But none of that happened.

Monica massaged and sucked until she felt the hot stream of cum in the back of her throat. Darren quickly pulled himself from the warmth of Monica mouth and emptied himself into the stream of water at the bottom of the tub.

“What a waste,” said Monica. “ I was hoping for a new pearl necklace.” She quipped with a naughty smile.

After Monica stood she washed herself, dressed in a nightgown from one of the two duffle bags and made a picnic style set-up while Darren blew up the air mattress they would sleep on in their last night in Ohio. While Darron wasn’t looking ,Monica pulled out a bottle of Darren’s favorite wine from her duffle bag, and two paper cups. While she wasn’t particularly fond of the bold red wine, it was his favorite. His taste in fine wine was compliments of many of the University Boosters. It seemed a crime they were drinking such a fine blend out of paper cups but this was a moment to celebrate.

“To us!” Monica proclaimed as she thrust a cup into Darren’s direction just as he finished working with the mattress.

“What’s this?” , Darren asked with a curious look.

Monica showed Darren the bottle of Catena Zapata Nicasia Malbec. The look she received took some of the wind out of her celebration.

“Monica, I really hope that fell off the back of a truck and you didn’t spend unnecessary money on this wine.”

Monica didn’t let the question bother her, she told a little white lie to avoid it. “Well I purchased it when you first passed the bar and forgot I hid it. I found it when we were packing and thought it was a great time to open it.”

“So what do you say? Cheers to new beginnings.”

#romance #interacial #lovestory #romancenovel

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bluepenguinstories · 3 years

Text

Happiness Overload Chapter Sixty-Four

I bobbed my head to and fro. Then I decided to practice my speech in front of the designated villain:

“So you have me in your sights. Nowhere for me to run. You can complete your goal, become all-powerful, and more than anything, be satisfied.”

“Something doesn’t feel right,” he muttered as if he were in a Tom Waits song. “I’m supposed to work for this. You’re just giving in.”

“Are you mad that I haven’t experienced the full extent of despair and hopelessness? But you should have known that me having Euphoria within me, that it would be impossible for me to feel anything other than happy.”

“That’s not it. I need to earn it.”

He spoke with such clarity as if all of his jumbled thoughts had been formed because during every moment of his existence, he longed for the one he found himself in.

“You have! You’ve worked very hard and your efforts should go rewarded! You should know, vore isn’t one of my fetishes, but I’m open to try new things.”

“Heh,” his smile once again rest plastered on his face, and I could make out a faint whiff of a chuckle. “It’s as if our personalities have reversed.”

“Not at all! I am, after all, the blank slate!”

“I don’t get it. I must have won. I already know you won’t try to resist. I’ve done everything up until this point and once I devour you and take your power, I can finally rest. But then...why does it feel like I’ve lost?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I almost wanted to shout with glee, but it wasn’t quite time yet.

“I’d say ‘sometimes you just gotta take that L’, but...it’s not really like that. As we speak, The Flashbulb is dissolving. They were an enemy of yours, weren’t they? And if not for the events which you orchestrated, their plans for this world wouldn’t have been foiled. So you won.”

In fact, seeing as things were about to end, I was more than a little curious how things were going back there now that I wasn’t able to support Velvet or any of the other friends I might have made along the way.

That was it, huh? Blanc was gone once again, and in their place was the reality of the situation: that things weren’t quite over yet. No, I already knew that. I was a fool to believe that things would be so easy. As soon as Blanc left, the fight was back on, with a glint of smugness in the eyes of the Flashbulb members. I knew I had to act, but I was still trying to process everything. My friend, gone once more. How many times has it been? Hell, it didn’t even matter. The impact was the same each time.

“Now that that’s out of the way, let’s go ahead and turn back time,” Dr. Humble declared, and that was the moment when I was broken from my trance. I jumped in front of the two Flashbulb members, and whether they were in charge of the whole operation or not didn’t matter much to me. In its own twisted way, it seemed like every member was equal measure all powerful and powerless against the other members. Less a check and balance and more two magnets in the same direction, unable to connect.

Look, the metaphor was better in my head.

Either way, I snatched it out from Dr. Humble’s grasp, and while Dr. Asparagus (or Modest. Potato, tomato. Same difference) tried to fight back and restrain me, I fought back and shoved my elbow into his stomach and stomped on his shoe. Both of them gasped now as I held their device in my hands, and I retreated back toward Coriander.

“What’s the deal?” Dr. Humble protested. How ironic, considering the position of power they held.

“You said yourself that you couldn’t turn back time until the ‘celestial’ or whatever you wanna call it this time is dies along with Earth!” I fired back at them. I didn’t know how to use their time travel device, nor did I care to. Perhaps if my endeavor proved fruitful, however eventual, Coriander and I could work together to find a new purpose for the device. As much as I didn’t want to fixate on it, there was a certain air that things were much less certain ever since Blanc departed.

“Please, that world of yours will come to an end whether we create a new timeline or not, so why not just start now?” Dr. Asparagus argued, his voice with the same smugness one would expect from a moldy piece of asparagus.

“I’ll be the one to decide that!” I declared, and maybe I didn’t have a reason to and maybe he was right, but damn it, this wasn’t just a battle over time preferences, but a battle over power.

When Coriander finally spoke, having been in the background the whole time, motionless, just as dazed as I was sure that I was, she sounded the least confident of all.

“What are we supposed to do now?” She asked. “I wanted to be able to return to the world.” She sounded like she was about to get choked up.

Now’s not the time to lose confidence, I wanted to tell her, but it wasn’t like I was any more hopeful.

“Velvet?” Her voice came in once more.

As soon as Coriander said that name, a screen popped up in the air with my likeness, as well as a series of writing.

“Ah, so that’s who you are,” Dr. Humble was now the one to sound smug. Quite a big deal of humblebragging, I’d say. “You’ve been a nuisance throughout your adult life, haven’t you? Governments have embellished stories of you, making you out to be some larger than life threat, when really, you’ve just spent much of your time with reckless impulses. All of your feats seem to be nothing more than lucky breaks. So insignificant to us, that when figured into the dangers of humanity, you’re not even a thought.”

Sheesh. You get your own Wikipedia page and all of a sudden everyone thinks they got you figured it out. Much of what that profile says about me could be applied to The Flashbulb themselves. Embellished? Check. Larger than life? Check. Nothing but lucky breaks? Also check.

“Is any of that wrong?” He asked me, as if he already thought himself correct.

“I mean, sure, I’ve definitely thought that way about myself,” I shrugged. Maybe it was the whole “nothing left to lose” attitude, but hearing such an amusing report gave me quite the ego boost. “People thinking I was some badass secret agent, when really, I just got where I was through a series of fuck ups. It could be that everything that has brought me here was due to countless lucky breaks, as well.”

They both laughed. I didn’t dare look through the corner of my eye, but I suspected there was a great fear and apprehension from my dear lover.

“I can’t believe this! We were scared over nothing! Nothing!” Both of the two men began to cackle, less like witches and more like they just discovered fire. An ever-widening crooked smile crept on Dr. Humble’s face as he spoke: “I’ll tell you two, hell, if Dr. Katsushika can hear us, I’ll tell that damned wild card as well! We as an organization are eternal! Countless others before you have tried to defeat us, all ending in utter failure to the point where we started to view having enemies as routine! And with that in mind, you thought you had a chance?”

True, they had an impressive track record against their opposition, but something about their speech of villainy just irked me.

“You’re right on that count, too,” I conceded. “We may not survive, either. Hell, I’m willing to bet our chances are slim to none.”

“Velvet!” Coriander scolded. Or maybe that’s what I interpreted from her tone. My head could be a real mess sometimes. But I knew why she would have scolded me, if that was the case. I mean, she didn’t want to die. Nor did I. Plus, it probably sounded to her like I was giving up or admitting defeat. Easy mistake to make, especially when I was less focused on communication and more focused on what should come next.

“That said, even with low chances like those, I’m still going to try and I’ll keep trying so long as I live. You’re probably thinking that all my luck has run out, but I have to ask: are you willing to test yours?”

Without so much as a reaction, Dr. Mumble (err...not Humble, but the other one) reached for one of the buttons on their console and spoke into it.

“Guards, dispose of these two intruders at the front.”

“Loud and clear,” a guard at the other end responded. At once, my heart both ceased to beat, for even just a second, and then it beat way too fast.

“It shouldn’t take them more than a few minutes to get here,” Dr. Microbe (like hell I was going to dignify that Flashbulb goon with their name) explained. “Especially with their numbers. You made a valiant effort, but when all is said and done, it won’t be so much as a footnote in a small section of our history.”

“How?” I balled my fists. They shook and I had to be careful not to crush the time travel device I held in my hand. It wasn’t like I knew how to use it, nor would I turn back time. As lucky as I may have been at times, I still preferred to do things on my own terms. “Popsigirl should have disabled all communications!”

“You’ll find that much like the code to Dr. Etna, much of our system constantly rewrites itself and corrects any errors along the way. Even if communication was temporarily cut off, it was never going to last long.”

Tenser than before, Coriander once again asked, “what do we do now, Velvet?”

I turned to her. As I did, I noticed something else. Call it keen eyesight, or potential for yet another lucky break, but I had to take any chance I could.

“I’m not going to ask you to trust me,” my words were just as shaky as hers had been. “Not when things are looking the way they are. But I will ask for you to check that wall next to you. If you find a panel, well, you know what to do.”

At first she gave me a baffled look, like “English, motherfucker!” But then she nodded.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“You’re as capable a hacker as I.” While I knew her specialty was more hardware than software, there was a certain amount of blind faith that I had to employ. Not to say I doubted her abilities, but that I had my doubts that anything could have helped us at that point.

While Coriander got to work with visible frustration, it appeared that Humble and Modest (screw it, just this once) weren’t living up to their names.

“Even if you two manage to figure a way out of here, what then? Like always, the predator becomes the prey, and here you are, on the defensive,” one of them spoke. Did it matter which one? I sure as hell didn’t think so. “Even if we were to lose all of our members, we could just recruit new versions of those same people in another timeline! You could kill us right now, in fact, and so long as one of us lives to bring new members in, what can you do? You’re fighting a losing battle!”

Talk it up. Every second you guys waste running your mouths gives me that much more time.

“Got it!” Coriander declared. I turned to see an opening beside us. Hell, as soon as I saw that, I couldn’t help but show off a sly grin.

“Well, not to be as cliché as you guys have been, but as they say, ‘we’ll deal with you later!’”

I shoved the time travel device into my pocket and ran into the opening along with Coriander. As we did so, the wall closed behind us and the two of us were surrounded in darkness. I’ve spent many nights by her side with the lights off, so that moment seemed like nothing to me.

“Good job, bae,” I put my thumbs up. Being as dark as it was, I had to be careful not to stick my thumb up her nose on accident.

“I’m surprised I managed to figure out something, I mean, it was tricky and even then, if we hesitated even just a second more, it might have closed on us.”

“Ugh,” I felt nauseous with what I was about to say next.

“What?”

“It really is the case that every second counts,” I said, just as I knew I would. Oh, the cliché. Oh, the disgust that was mediocre dialogue.

“Oh yeah. Gross,” she dismissed. “I think we’ve got more on our plate than rhetoric.”

We continued to move forward as we spoke. Any second, those guards would enter the room, and I was sure that both her and I knew that it would only take an instant on their end for that same wall to open up for them. We had to be on the move and figure out a strategy. I was aware of the real possibility that they could hear and catch every word we said, but I think our greatest asset was that we didn’t really know what we were going to do next. Really kept them on their toes.

“We can’t return to the world we knew,” her worries spilled forth. “It will still end, regardless of what we do. We can’t even get rid of the angel without having the world be destroyed in the process. I can’t stop thinking about this. How there’s nothing we could do. Bitterly, I already knew that, but I wanted so bad to believe there was a solution where we could reverse course and come out victorious. So what now?”

I gulped. My, how easy it was to give in to despair. I didn’t think she was quite there yet, but I wouldn’t have blamed her if she was.

“It’s easy,” I spoke up, at last thinking that I had an answer. “I know we didn’t get the most satisfying outcome, so now we try for the next best thing.”

I couldn’t tell whether she nodded in agreement, or if my words didn’t inspire much confidence, as with the total darkness, there was any number of ways one could interpret silence. Regardless, we continued to move forward.

We were on our way to bear the bad news when we both heard the announcement. It meant nothing to me, but it shook Dr. Hepburn to her core. She did a little jig, then turned to me and began poking my shoulders with such intensity and I was left wondering why I kept letting her.

“Hey. Psst! Hey.”

“Yes, HR lady?” I smiled. I couldn’t help but imagine that if I were in her position, I’d act the same way.

“You know that feeling when you go around giving people false hope but then you find out that hope is even more false than you realized?”

I shook my head.

“That’s how you’re feeling right now, huh?” I replied.

“Yeah!” She pumped her fists. “Everyone wants to be Grandmaster Flash, but there is no Grandmaster Flash, so everyone’s been vying for a false position at a false top!”

“Right, and I only like true tops,” I joked.

“Sorry,” she looked down and shook her head. “I’m not a fan of hierarchy. In fact, in some ways, this is quite a relief to me.”

“How so?”

“Because now everyone’s morale will be shifted from super low to super high...in your guys’ favor! They’re probably all pissed right now, like they’ve been cheated! Well, the ones who weren’t driven to despair, anyway.”

“Hmm...that’s one way to look at it, I suppose,” I wasn’t sure if that’s how things worked with people, but it seemed like a possibility.

“You know, I was always rooting for you guys,” she snapped her fingers.

“You were?”

“Well, once it turned out you guys were winning, anyway. If you guys were on the losing end of things, I’d be like ‘I wish they’d protest in a way that didn’t affect us’.”

“Gee, thanks,” I scoffed.

“Don’t mention it!” She held her thumb up and grinned.

Soon we entered a room and Dr. Hepburn had me sit next to her as she addressed a group.

“Greetings, I hope all of you in the Design Department are well,” she began. “I regret to inform you that going forward, your department will be laid off. The Flashbulb wishes you all the best in your future endeavors.”

All around the room were blank stares. I’m pretty sure I could be counted as one of those blank stares.

“All right, Hepburn. Cut the bullshit,” one member finally spoke up. Some gruff guy with a gray pompadour haircut.

“No, no, she’s serious,” I waved my hands out. That proved to be a mistake as the guy turned his attention toward me.

“First of all, no she isn’t. Everyone knows none of us get fired or laid off here. We’re stuck here ‘til the day we die, which usually entails us getting killed by someone. Second, who are you?”

Before I could answer, Dr. Hepburn tapped her pen away at her clipboard until his attention turned toward her instead, to which she took over.

“She is my auntie assistant,” she explained.

“What kind of sick roleplay…” I heard him muttered. I wanted to defend myself and go, “It’s not sick! It’s perfectly healthy!” But why would I when it wasn’t even roleplay?

“Anyway, I don’t know why you’re wasting your time with such an excuse when we already know the big secret. Hell, now that the cat’s out of the bag, a big lot of us are asking ourselves, ‘what was ever the point?’ I mean, the obvious point should have been, ‘to help each other improve one another’, but with this sham of a competition, it’s clear we’ve not really been a help to anyone, let alone ourselves.”

Hepburn’s tapping continued with such a frenzied intensity that I imagined she would make a great drummer, if she wasn’t already one to begin with. Maybe if I got the chance, I could convince her to take up the drums. But then maybe she wouldn’t be into that sort of thing. It’s the thought that counts, anyway, right?

Then the tapping stopped and she smiled a big smile.

“Good! Now you know why you’re being laid off!”

“Oh for crying out loud!” He got up from his chair and flew into a rage.

“Anyway, now that you’re no longer with the company, wanna burn it down?” Dr. Hepburn suggested.

He froze in place.

“You know what? Yeah. I do. I’m sick of all the micromanaging and the way every department can’t seem to help but do more harm than good. Worse, I’m sick of hearing ‘Grandmaster Flash told you to’ when no, no they didn’t. That’s just an excuse to make me do something you didn’t want to do.”

I was glad he seemed to be on our side. Now there was just the matter of the rest of the Design Department…

I shot my hand up.

“Hey, is there someone here named Dr. Oz?” I looked around and asked. One of the members, a sheepish looking young man with mutton chops and a wool sweater turned to me.

“That me,” he bleated. I couldn’t help myself, I was beaming at the prospect that I could be a matchmaker.

“I met Dr. Phil!”

His eyes widened, like he had just seen a wolf. Jeez, I didn’t mean to put him on the spot like he was some sacrificial lamb.

“Did he say anything abaa-t me?”

“Yeah! He said that he thinks it would be great if you two worked together to rally up more departments! He said his department’s sick of this shithole and he bet he isn’t the only one!

“Did he really say that?” The pompadour guy interrupted, ever the skeptic.

He said some of those things. Look, I’m improvising here.

“Sure did! Who are you, anyway?”

He grunted. “I’m Dr. Toto. What about you? No more games, either.”

I bless the rains down the yellow brick road – no, now’s not the time for that. I have to think of how to answer. Probably not a good idea to make something up, but what else can I say?

“Dr. Hepburn, go ahead and tell them the truth. I’m still a little shy,” I tugged on her sleeve.

She looked down and smiled. She must have known just what to say.

“The truth is, Juniper is best girl.”

I just about fell back in my chair. I was rooting for you, Dr. Hepburn! We were all rooting for you! “Back in her original timeline, there was a contest all around the vote all around the world, and it was decided at the end that she was best girl. The company caught wind of this and just had to find out what all the hype was about, and so she was brought here. There was a raffle in the cafeteria with the grand prize being to meet her. Needless to say, I won.”

That had to be the among the top ten most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard.

“Yeah, okay. Seems legit,” Dr. Toto grunted as he nodded.

There were two other members of the Design department, one of which had long, flowing fuchsia hair, and the other had short, iridescent indigo hair. Both of them were pretty, but if I had to choose one over the other...no. That wasn’t what I was there for.

The one with fuchsia hair turned to me.

“How did you do it? Become best girl?” Fuchsia’s voice was soft and soothing.

Way to put me on the spot, Hepburn.

“By starting a revolution!” I declared. Hey, if Dr. Hepburn was going to make a bold claim, so was I.

“Cheers, sis, I’ll fucking drink to that,” Indigo added, and if Fuchsia’s voice was beautiful, then Indigo’s voice was hot, with the way it was husky and self-assured. Still, I didn’t mean to compare the two.

“Anyway, we gotta get a move on and lay more people off. If you guys can work on getting the word out, we should at least have a few more departments on our side,” I explained. Dr. Hepburn gave me a pat on the head.

“You did well as an auntie assistant,” she told me.

“Thanks,” I blushed, though really I didn’t want my hair messed with.

As we left the room, we heard the siren call of an alarm.

“The guards…” I heard her mutter, and before I could react, she took me by the hand and we ran.

Well, wasn’t that just swell?

I mean, I should have expected it, really. If it happened just as planned, then I wouldn’t have found it to be such a masterpiece, just a simple work of art, instead. So revise, improvise. After all, you couldn’t spell painting without ‘pain’ and you couldn’t spell drawing without ‘aw’ and without a doubt, you couldn’t spell revolution without ‘vore’.

Once the alarms outside of my head went off, the alarms inside my head did as well.

Soon, I could hear the click-clack approaching the door to the command room I was in. Which command room? Did it matter? Why did we have so many command rooms? Beats me, but I was sure going to miss this place once it was all over. Which, ‘over’ was just an anagram of ‘vore’. I felt that was worth pointing out.

“Wah! Ha! Ha!” I let out a proud laughter as the door to was busted down and fine chiseled armored specimen stormed in with their suits of shiny metal and their heavy weapons. Each of them fell before they could even pull their itty bitty triggers. Turns out I was right to hold on to Cilantro’s laser backpack. That thing could pack a PUNCH with a capital ‘UNCH’.

As the three guards lay on the ground, I stood over them in triumph and announced:

“It’s just like the tools of the ruling class to be anti-creator. Well I’m here to tell you that I’m pro-creator, and I plan to procreate for as long as I live!”

I couldn’t just stand there over them, as much as that would have made for a fine work of art, as I wasn’t quite sure if they were dead. Yes, I could have fired another shot or three, just to make sure, but there was a beauty in the uncertainty of it all that I just had to relish in. I sniffed the air, which mostly smelled of the smoke produced from that laser blast.

“I was really hoping to catch the whiff of a charred corpse,” I sighed with disappointment. That mood didn’t last, and soon I was back on the drawing board. “Anyway! As they say in Spain, Seeyanara!”

If my calculations were correct (and while some may have thought calculus not to be my strong suit, they would be wrong, as not only was I not good at calculus, but calculating was an art, so being good or not was irrelevant) then Velvet and Lil C should be close. Good! I could return the cute backpack to its rightful owner.

We were still alive, but at a disadvantage. Sure, I could hack into stuff as well, although if someone were to ask me, Velvet was still better in that department. She could roll with the punches and think fast on her feet. Me? I needed total concentration.

At the moment, as we moved forward in pure darkness, concentration was the one thing I did NOT have. It’s not like I wanted to admit it, but it was the reality we were in: at any moment, the walls we found ourselves between would be blasted open and the two of us, shot down. It got me thinking about what our impact would have been. The “close, but not cigar” in terms of success stories of those who went against The Flashbulb? The little clone that could, until she didn’t? It’s not like I cared how I was remembered, if I was remembered at all, I just expected a little more.

Well, my worst fear came true: in front of us, a blast tore through the walls and we both jumped back.

We’re gonna get raided and we’re gonna get shot down without so much as a fight and we aren’t going to have any romantic last words between us it’s just going to be violent and bloody and –

Instead of an army of guards, only one figure entered, one who I wished I didn’t have to see again so soon: that mad artist.

“Smart thinking, you two! Making out while the enemy’s looking for you!” Were her first words upon us meeting, and I was not amused. In fact, I’m pretty sure I growled without so much as a word.

“Ha. I wish,” Velvet joked back, though by now I could tell that was just how Velvet acted when she was tense.

“Anyway, you two should get out of there. Don’t worry, I took care of the guards that were after you. Though there’s going to be a buttload more.”

“Is that the scientific term or…?” Velvet shot back.

Disregarding the useless small talk, we walked forward, through the new hole that was formed. Velvet first, me just behind her. There was no way I was going to trust that popsicle stick lover. Then again, she hurt Velvet before, too. Ugh. Just the thought of either of our wounds was enough to send shivers.

Light illuminated us (get it? Because...oh, who gives a shit?) as we stepped out. I still wanted to keep as much distance from that...you know. I selfishly wished that Velvet would do the same.

“Jeez, I can’t believe you guys didn’t defeat the bad guys yet? How hard could it be?” You-know-who (or you don’t, and if you don’t, lucky you) began questioning. Although not quite accusatory and more playful in tone.

“Gee, I don’t know. Army of guards, code that self-corrects, time travel devices, the list goes on,” Velvet was incensed, no longer playing around.

I didn’t look that artsy fartsy helper in the eye, but I was still compelled to speak up.

“I-It’s not just that!” My fists were balled. We didn’t have time to stand around and argue, but dammit, someone had to set the record straight gay. “So long as one Flashbulb members wishes to stay in power, then we may as well consider the whole thing a loss! They can always go back in time! This is the problem with the organization as a whole! Those guards may as well be members too, because even if they aren’t official members, they have a vested interest in killing anyone who threatens their power! What’s to stop them from forming a new Flashbulb? We can’t just go 75%!”

I began to huff and puff. Hyperventilate. Even though I didn’t see her face, as I refused to, I could just tell that she smiled in return.

“I see your point, and that’s why I’m saying, it’s easy to beat them! You just gotta send them back to their own time and leave them nothing in their possession! I don’t see what’s so hard about that!”

I didn’t give her a reply. I never wanted to speak to her, or around her again in the first place. But I spoke once and that was already too much.

“Now, this is a big organization, so there’s bound to be plenty of departments that don’t care about the lack of a Grandmaster Flash. In fact, they might have been elated when they heard that! You guys will probably have to deal with them. Well, you guys, or the ones who defect. I suspect there’s been a few departments who have been unhappy with this company for a while now, and probably want to tear the whole thing down. So you got that going for you.”

I heard every word, but none of them meant anything to me. Maybe they held significance, but I just let them flow in and out.

“I’ll be real with you guys, you’ll probably still need to kill some guards, unless you can strip them naked and send them flying to some deserted island. Either way, their bodies will have to go somewhere. I’m going to go help out these other departments who are on your side! I’ll be sending plenty of doctorates flying home!”

I looked down and noticed Velvet reach into her pocket and pull out the time travel device that she stole from Dr. Humble.

“I see what you’re saying, but I don’t even know how to use this thing,” she must have pointed to said device as she told Dr. Popsicle.

“Well gee, I’d help you figure it out, but I can already tell there’s more guards approaching.”

That was weird. I didn’t hear any. But then, I heard a little tap-tap sound in the back of my mind, and that could have been them in the distance.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’re good at figuring things out under pressure. In fact, you should go back in that room you were in and kick those two men out.”

“Really? After we just left with our lives?” Velvet interrupted.

“What better way to practice a craft? As for you, Coriander…” Popsigirl spoke, and I felt like screaming for her not to say my name, but instead I said nothing. “I’ve come to return your backpack.”

I didn’t take it. Instead, Velvet took it and handed it to me. For what seemed like an eternity, I stood in place. Then, arms wrapped around me, the familiar arms that I’ve felt many times before, and I looked up.

“I get it,” Velvet whispered while still in her arms. “She’s gone now. You’re safe.”

“Right,” I nodded. “Let’s just go back there and show those two what’s what.”

At least if Twee-humble and Twee-modest wanted to put up a fight, I could fire my lasers. So for their sake, they should have played nice if they knew what was good for them.

In all my years, I never understood the hype with Audrey. Katharine, however, she was worth all the hype and then some. Really, where was the Katharine fandom when you needed them? If they wouldn’t show up, I would just have to be Special K.

Okay? Okay. Focus. OK? Right. Rikki-tikki...tic-tactile.

My auntie (no relation) assistant, Dr. Not-a-Doctor Juniper was right beside me as someone who just happened to be right beside me. Where were we? I think we were in hiding. In a closet or a broom room. Something about guns and guards and not wanting to die. That sounded about right.

“You look scared!” Junie B. Jones commented. Really, I heard that name somewhere before. Probably in a newspaper somewhere during some time period.

“I’m more than scared,” I assured her. “They probably don’t like traitors, just like they don’t like intruders.

“Well...that makes sense, I guess,” she gave it some thought. “I’ll be honest, I wish I had some kind of plan. I thought things were going pretty well back there with the Design Department, but now I’m losing hope again.”

“I know what you mean. It’s like a civil war here. Flashbulb vs. Flashbulb. It’s like we’re trying to pin each other down, but neither of us wants to be underneath the other.”

“...Did you have to phrase it that way?” She sounded concerned. I didn’t understand, and more than that, I didn’t think there was any other way to phrase it. It was just the reality of the situation.

Even in the darkened room, I could tell Juniper was sullen.

“The truth is...it seems like everyone’s doing their part, but I feel like I haven’t really done anything.”

“Don’t think of it that way! You came up with suggestions that probably wouldn’t have been implemented! I can tell you have a desire to help others, and sometimes that desire is good enough!”

“Gee, that’s real nice of you to say, but…” she looked away. “Is that really enough?”

I shrugged. “Who knows, but sometimes it is, so maybe one of these days, it will be!”

I pressed my ear against the door. From the sound of things, it seemed like all the commotion died down. Though the alarm kept sounding, there was nary a threatening aura to be heard.

I opened the door.

“I think we’re safe for now,” I told her.

Then, as if I just tempted fate (which hey, if I did, that’s pretty cool, I mean, it would have been bad for us, but it would also be just like one of those ironic lines in a movie), other faces met ours.

“Dr. Phil?” Juniper noticed one such face. Some chubbyish guy who looked ready to hit the hay. That was, until he smiled a big smile and right next to a human-shaped hay pile was Dr. Oz.

“Hey! Dr. Juniper! Look! Dr. Oz and I are a couple now!”

Dr. Phil and Dr. Oz shared a passionate kiss and everyone in the Marketing and Design department cheered.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” Dr. Oz reassured us. “In fact, Dr. Phil and I have been spreading the word, just like you suggested, Juniper! We’ve got the Agriculture, the Housing, and the Clothing Department coming over to help us with possibly others on the way!”

Juniper smiled and I thought I saw a tear roll down her cheek, but she wiped it away, whatever it was she wiped away.

“I’m glad for you guys. I’m glad to have made some friends, even when I thought I’d make enemies and be scared for my life.”

I watched as those two departments and Juniper shared a hug with one another. Meanwhile, I had a No. 1 pencil in my mouth (a rarity. Most of them had been eked out of existence in favor of the inferior No. 2).

“Yeah, yeah, soak it in,” Dr. Toto cut the heartwarming moment short with a cross of his arms. “But we still gotta deal with those guards, as well as the departments that don’t want to defect.”

“Right. Good thing Dr. Glinda and I have constructed a shield to block any artillery,” Dr. Ozma declared.

“Dr. Glinda?” Juniper asked.

I pointed my tender pencil at the member of the design department with fuchsia hair.

“Oh! Fuchsia! So who is indigo?”

I wanted to burst into laughter. I never thought to call Dr. Ozma ‘Indigo’ before. I couldn’t help but think, “my name is Indigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to –” but I didn’t know where I was going with that.

“That’s Dr. ozma, Junebug.”

“Oh! Junebug! That’s a cute nickname!” Juniper grinned. With much brighter spirits, we charged on. I thought to let everyone know that it seemed like none of us had a clue where we were going, but I kept my mouth shut because nobody liked a buzzkill.

Anyway, things seemed to be going pretty fine and dandy. Some guards rushed in and after warning us to go back to our departments. Dr. Glinda and Dr. Ozma raised the protective barrier around the two groups. The next logical thing was the guards opening fire, but after their artillery was depleted, Juniper seemed to gain a new set of confidence and declared:

“We have gay and anime on our side!”

Those same guards ran up to us and tried to break the shield down by bashing their weapons against the shield. It seemed like that was actually working as I noticed our shield start to break. But before it broke fully, each of the guards fell to the ground. Dr. Toto looked confused, but once everyone saw who had taken the guards down, we all froze in fear: the dreaded Dr. Katsushika stood, with several giant marionette dolls beside her.

“Who let her out of her cage?” Dr. Glinda asked as she trembled.

“Coming out of my cage and I’ve been...doing...just…” Juniper muttered, her teeth chattered. Must have been a nervous tick of hers. Cute.

“Nice revolution you have there. Shame if something were to happen to it,” Dr. Katsushika grinned. We all got ready to scream and run, until that same artist laughed. “I’m just messing with you guys! I’m on your side! Let’s go!”

Relieved, we followed behind her. I recall Juniper asked Dr. Katsushika something like, “why’s everyone so scared of you?”

To which Dr. Katsushika replied, “People tend to think I’m evil, that’s all.”

“Aw, I’m sure you’re not that bad. You’re probably just misunderstood.”

“Right!” Dr. Katsushika agreed. “Just give me five, no, ten years, and I’ll be a full-fledged artist!”

It was really nice to see everyone come together, even if it was for the purpose of making us all break apart. Would our organization really be no more? And if so, what would that make me, then? That thought was fraught with a frailty I couldn’t fathom. Some eternal entity, falling. I hoped at least one of us could see the end, if not me, but for the moment, I chose to close my eyes and wait for whatever outcome.

Two figures sitting. Both of us humanoid. Both of us eager for it all to end. Neither of us human. Well, one may be, but at times I knew better. Then at times I knew worse. Even to the bitter end, I couldn’t keep myself consistent.

“I never really cared whether The Flashbulb was defeated or not,” I said once I managed a split hair of clarity. “I always considered them too easy a target. Anger was fine, but anger wouldn’t last me. My true frustration was finding something that would.”

Breakfast, lunch, dinner, or none of the above, looked down on me. Not with pity, not in contempt, but just because they sat on a rock while I sat on a flat surface.

“Is it frustrating?”

“I can’t...be happy...if I don’t find something...that will last me...until death...but...being immortal...makes things...all that more...difficult.”

I didn’t need to space out all of those words. I think I just wanted to for dramatic effect.

“I see, then!” That bright light beamed.

I couldn’t help but smile, even after everything that happened. All that I caused, and all that I didn’t. What I let happen and what I perpetuated. I still never found what I thought to be happiness. Soon, even the dissatisfaction would be gone.

#happiness overload #penultimate chapter #woo #writing #scifi #action #drama #comedy #reference overload #fiction #stories

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wedreamedlove · 4 years

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I'd love to know what you headcanon Xu Mo's mbti as! I've seen a lot of INTJ and INFJ but I feel like you've done so much research into his character (which I am a HUGE fan of by the way, your character studies are top notch honestly) that you'd have a good grasp on what his is the closest to 😊

first, thank you for enjoying my character studies! i feel like i spammed the tag by throwing in everything all at once, haha, oops.

second, before i get into this, i should disclaimer that i actually don’t know much about mbti apart from being intimately familiar with my own. which leads into the next part.

third, i’d definitely label xu mo as an intj which just so happens to be what i am. (funny enough, he’s also a sun scorpio when i’m a moon scorpio which, overly simplified, means we feel and approach things similarly but he does it publicly while i do it privately).

the reason i don’t think he’s an infj is from these sources: 16personalties and type in mind. i’ve put links for those who want to do their own reading but i’ll sum it up below.

basically, infjs are compassionate in their idealism and their second and third dominant function in approaching the world is external feeling and internal thinking. infjs are talented with connecting to people and want to do it warmly. they think the world is filled with inequity when it doesn’t have to be and will work to fix that.

this is the opposite of intj who have external thinking (objective decisions; efficiency in all things) and internal feeling (mull over details; slower to process emotions) as their second and third dominant function, respectively. sounds more like xu mo just from these words, right?

in the glimpses we get of xu mo’s childhood, there’s an impression that he was an isolated child who didn’t care for connecting with others, and he had a single-minded focus:

[Lucien Nightmare SR Rumors and Secrets: Lion Slumbering in the Dorm] shows that he was a quiet kid who minded his own business and was studying advanced topics because he was focused on a goal.

[Blossom Date] supports this too when xu mo says: “Yes, I skipped grades […] Silly, you want to hear about everything, don’t you. It’s the same as how you were before you took your entrance exams, there were things I needed to do.”

[CN Character Profile] there’s a testimony from someone who knew xu mo as a child: “Xu Mo? We’ve only seen one side, but he looks a lot like the small boy I knew when I was young, but Xu Mo’s attitude is much more modest. If that boy is still alive, I hope he’s living like someone as likable as Xu Mo.” — Fan Zihang

xu mo’s idealism is based on cold logical utilitarianism. you see this in the news conference [Chapter 16] when he talks about necessary sacrifices for the advancement of humanity, including himself. [Firefly Date] also has him asserting his belief in mistaken darwinism: survival of the fittest.

the world is full of inequity and he’s not going to change that. the bigger picture is for humanity to ascend with the least amount of casualties, meaning sacrifices have to be made willingly or not.

his ideals, and his methods (creating the virus and then changing his mind in Chapter 16), are pretty much the epitome of: “you were so busy wondering if you could that you never questioned if you should”.

this sort of detached chessboard outlook, not leaving things to chance, massive ambition, the ability to cut off and drop their emotions if it gets in the way, and the intelligence and logical paths to reach that goal is pure intj.

however! i think some people get mistaken in believing intjs to be cold robots and that’s why there may be opinions about xu mo being something else (because he’s socially savvy, right?).

imo it’s a misconception that intjs are robots when it’s just because intjs start off life with underdeveloped emotions. this just means that, in order to fully mature as a person, intjs have to put more effort into developing their emotional side. so ideally adult intjs should be more in touch with their emotions and interacting socially than adolescent intjs.

this is where the type in mind comes in handy again. there are some key quotes in there like:

When NiTe’s are younger, they don’t have enough past experience in various areas of life to pull from in order to know which reactions would be appropriate in social and relational settings. Their safest bet is often to try a small tweak to see if it makes a difference, rather than trying an entirely new approach.

remember fan zihang’s testimony? the present xu mo is more modest and humble than the child version, and he’s clearly more personable than how he was during his high school years (girls love him at the research university). he’s clearly worked on his social skills.

not to mention, it’s not a coincidence that a lot of fictional villains are modeled off of the burning drive and cold logic of intj but still having massive amounts of charm (ex. moriarty and hannibal). intjs, being all about efficiency, can easily put their scary intelligence to use in studying social interactions and mastering that.

but, anyway, to move on a lighter note there’s other smaller traits xu mo exhibits that point him strongly towards being an intj, like having encylopedic knowledge on a ton of things (an esoteric knowledge too, not just science-related).

his extreme curiosity towards things that would push him to do unusual things like watching cartoons to understand human nature [CN Character Profile].

his natural confidence and lack of a need to demonstrate it unless you ask him directly about something (i strongly believe li zeyan is an entj so he and xu mo share a lot of similar qualities too, like this one). they know they’re smarter than a majority of people and they’re so used to this that it’s not a point of pride or anything. just a fact.

xu mo also has an open mind which shows when he listens to whatever MC says without judgment. he takes things in like a sponge and then vigorously tests it in his mind with the tried and true “does this make sense?” “will it work?” and then he’ll gently guide the MC to a better and more efficient path, if he believes there is one.

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc xu mo #love and producer #love and produc(ing) meta #answered asks

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blindwyrm · 4 years

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Notes on Magic

Notes On: The Elements of Spellcrafting by Jason Miller Key 2: Stop Making Crappy Goals Set a long term goal for something you want to change with Magic. Analyze it through these steps. Impossible and Highly Improbable Goals There are no spells that are going to make you invisible. Put off your plans of magical bank robbing. You can’t change your appearance to look like Sailor Moon or create a girlfriend like in Weird Science. These are impossible goals. It’s not that miracles never happen or that paranormal phenomena do not ever manifest, but you shouldn’t ever bank on them as a life plan. Highly improbable goals are also crappy. This doesn’t mean hard goals, but highly improbable goals, like winning the lottery or casting a spell to get someone struck by lightning. It’s not worth spending a lot of time on. The Lame Goal This is the opposite of the improbable goal. It is uninspiring and barely worth the effort. A good goal is inspiring. It lights a fire in the belly. It is a reason to charge into the temple at dawn or head to the graveyard at 3 A.M. Just because we are not going for the impossible or highly improbable does not mean we can’t strive for greatness. We should not limit ourselves. This is not true only of material success, but spiritual goals as well. We may think we are being humble by saying we only seek modest attainments, but examples of great people exist to inspire greatness. In stories of the great Sorcerer turned Saint Milarepa, his attainment and wisdom seemed so far beyond his students that they insisted he must be the incarnation of some powerful Holy Man or Buddha. He scolded them and said that to insist that they were incapable of the same results showed a lack of faith in the teachings which promise enlightenment to any who dutifully practice. Even if we don’t become millionaires or celebrities, deliberately cutting ourselves off from that right at the start is no way to live your life. Vague and Immeasurable Goals The next type of crappy goal to avoid is the vague and immeasurable goal. Things like “I want wealth,” “I want to be healthy,” and “I want to be enlightened are all noble, but vague and immeasurable. Take “I want to be rich” for example. If you evoke Tzadkiel, the Angel of Jupiter, and say “I want to be rich,” what is the metric he’s going to use? Maybe he looks on the world and sees that people who make over $40,000 a year are in the top 1% of the world and then looks at your $60,000 and decides “you look pretty rich to me already.” However, if you ask to get promoted to a position where you are making $100,00 a year, as well as boost sales on your side business website by 30% this year, this is something specific he can grab onto. It’s also something you can measure yourself against. If you want to lose weight, then you need to know how much you want to lose. If you want to make money, you need to know how much you want to make. If you want to have a fulfilling romantic life, you need to know what you want out of it. If you want to reach spiritual enlightenment, you need to know how you are going to measure it. Whatever it is you are looking to do with your magic, you should be able to measure it somehow. Setting Goals is Not an Accomplishment Did you set a good goal? That’s awesome! But you haven’t done squat. The last type of crappy goal is one that is not acted on. If you really take the time to examine your life, discover a lot of the self-sabotaging and negative inner scripts that you have been running, and take the time to figure out where you really want to be spiritually, materially, romantically, or socially, it can be a hugely satisfying and uplifting experience. It provides direction where formerly there was none. Avoid fetishizing your goal.Your goal does not need to be written in a Moleskine bought specially for that purpose; it just needs to be accomplished. Sigilize the goal for a working, but don’t obsess over it. So, What is a Good Goal? Pretty much anything you want to do with Magic that avoids these traps. Your goal is difficult enough to warrant using Magic, but not so improbable that it would need a miracle; important enough to warrant action. A great goal seems to have its own gravity that pulls you towards it. Lastly, it’s measurable. It’s something you can look at and say “That worked!” or “That didn’t work. Time to try something else.” A rule of thumb that will always keep your goal on track: Make a plan that can happen without Magic. Then use Magic to make sure it does. The Take Away Three suggestions after setting your goal: 1. Take action immediately after setting your goal. What is the first step? 2. Plan out the next several steps that you need to take after that first one, and assign them dates and times. If it doesn’t have a date and time, it’s not a real step. 3. A week later, look at your steps. If you did not do them when you said you would, you need to examine why. It usually is either a) you realize that you don’t want this right now as much as you say you do, or b) you need to figure out some way to keep yourself to it using pleasure/pain principals because will power alone isn’t cutting it.

#notes #magic #elements of spellcrafting #witchcraft #witchblr #jason miller #bos

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sunbirddtellsstories · 5 years

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Fourteen Facts About Clay (from Monkey Wrench!)

He gets one extra fact because he’s my favorite :)

14 Facts About Clay From MW!

1.) Clay’s parents are named Clifford ‘Cliff’ Bailey and Judith ‘Judy’ Bailey - and they are divorced. He has a baby sister named Jessamine ‘Jessie’ Bailey and a younger brother named Patrick ‘Patty’ Bailey. Right now Patrick lives at the Bailey Ranch with his Pa and Grandpappy Bailey, and Jessie is low key feral and moves around a lot with the Black Vipers all over the American Southwest. She does however technically live with her mom in their modest little trailer in town, and despite the sometimes troubled relationship they have it is a place she is comfortable with hanging her hat.

2.)The Bailey ranch is located 20 minutes away from the small town of Rockwood, Texas. There’s paranormal activity everywhere but otherwise it’s tiny and hot and boring af and everybody knows everybody else and nothing ever truly changes. At times that’s cozy and comforting, especially around the holidays, but other times it sucks. The most exciting thing to do in town is go to the diner, go to the drive in for movies from three decades ago, or go ghost hunting. A lot of the teens that live there are bored out of their skulls.

3.) Clay gets along best with his grandfather Grandpappy Bailey. The two have been close since Clay was a baby and they hold a very special bond. Besides being a pillar of wisdom and love and good humor, Grandpappy is tied with one other person as Clay’s number one confidante and the one he goes to when he’s in need of advice.

4.) The other person mentioned above is Clay’s mom, Judy. She’s strong, loving and the right balance of “Warrior woman who takes no shit” and “motherly matron who makes everything better.” Despite her somewhat tumultuous relationship with her ex-husband, she still is in good standing with Grandpappy Bailey, who often invites her over for cards and dinner when Cliff is out of town. Judy loves each of her children dearly, and wants them to grow up strong and happy and good. Clay is a total momma’s boy and writes and calls her often, and she sends him plenty of postcards from places she visits and little care packages full of stuff from home.

5.) Clay and Jessie are still working on patching up their relationship, but it’s on a much healthier level than it was before. They call each other often and Clay even has a pleasant (if a little shaky) relationship with the rest of the Black Vipers. Jessie still doesn’t like visiting the ranch anymore, but she’s reconciled with her Dad enough to come over for dinner every now and then. They still fight sometimes though, mostly over her future and what she wants to do with her life. (The thought is kind of scary to her)

6.) Clay’s relationship with his brother Patrick, on the other hand, is very, very tense. There’s a lot of pain, bad memories, and old grudges between them and Clay doesn’t like to talk about it. It hurts too much, and if you try to bring it up, he’ll shut down completely and won’t talk for a few days. The two brothers don’t even speak to each other anymore. It’s gotten that bad.

They weren’t always like that though. They used to be quite close, think Stan and Ford from Gravity Falls as kids. Total partners in crime. But as the years went on, their relationship became more and more strained until a certain incident over a certain girl just...broke them apart.

FYI, Clay wants to make up, but Patrick does NOT.

7.) Clay knows how to play the guitar. It’s a side hobby of his and he’s very good at playing and even singing. But nobody really knows about this because he’s so, so shy and is terrified about performing in front of others. Telling people about his love for guitar would mean they’d ask him to play music for them and he doesn’t want that. His music isn’t for other people - its for himself. And he would prefer to keep it that way.

At this point he’s trying to write his own songs, but he knows plenty by heart. The only others he’ll perform in front of are animals right now.

8.) Clay is a total Agent Mulder and believes in the existence of aliens, ghosts, demons, supernatural beings, angels, cryptids, etc. He absolutely believes in the Mothman, Bigfoot, chupacabras etc, and in addition to studying animals and their behaviors, he studies cryptozoology, demonology, ufology and general occult stuff. He’s not as vocal about it as Jessie is, but it is a big interest of his.

9.) When it comes to being the most religious of the Dragons, Clay and Omi are tied for number one. Rai is a little more casual with his Catholicism and Kimiko doesn’t emphasize or think about her beliefs much, but Clay and Omi are pretty serious and devoted. Not overly so, but they definitely say prayers before meals and bed and never ever skip special days of worship.

On that note, Clay is very open minded and respectful of what others believe and how others choose to live their lives. He only gets upset when people choose to live their lives in a way that hurts others.

10.) Clay’s biggest hobby is learning about animals, all animals, on all levels. This is because he has always jived more with animals than people. This is partly due to his shy nature, but also because Dragons Of Earth have always been natural animal magnets.

11.) Clay truly loves Daddy Bailey and Daddy Bailey truly loves Clay. But there’s a lot about Clay’s personality, opinions and interests that Clay keeps hidden from his father because he’s terrified of disappointing his father and getting reprimanded for just being himself. To this day, Clay still has a hard time denying either of his parents anything.

12.) If it wasn’t already clear, Clay’s family is moderately dysfunctional. It does get to him a lot, especially after holiday visits with the family, but he won’t talk about it with others, not even his own team, and often stays silent because he was raised to keep that stuff inside. It has really affected him. Because of his dysfunctional relationships with his dad and siblings, Clay has a tendency to stay overly humble, downplay his strengths, make a visible effort to not stand out and take responsibility for any failures, even if they’re not his fault. The condition of his family weighs heavily on his shoulders.

There are two other Dragons in MW! that Clay could really connect to and find kindred spirits in when it comes to family issues like this. It’s not that hard to guess who they are.

Maybe they’ll all talk someday. I would like to think they’d support each other as close friends when it comes to that stuff.

13.) Growing up, Clay was THE ACE in his small town and was really loved and respected by the community for being so multitalented, earnest, kind and all around awesome. He always made an effort to make others proud and live for other people because he wanted them to know they could rely on him and that he’d never let them down.

So you can imagine how much it hurt when his actions were never good enough for his dad and when those same actions drove his siblings away because they triggered their own insecurities and jealousy. And that really got to him.

Deep down, Clay resents himself. Sometimes those feelings are almost non-existent. Other days they fill up his whole head. Change is hard and healing isn’t linear, even when you’re surrounded by loving, supportive friends.

14.) Clay, like Kimiko, is still at Wudai status and is still working to become a Shoku Warrior. The attainment of Shoku Warrior status is heralded by the attainment and mastery of one or more Shoku powers. You’ll see Clay’s start to show up pretty soon ;) I hope you guys like it! Here’s a hint:

Time.

#xiaolin showdown fanfiction #xiaolin showdown monkey wrench #monkey wrench!#xs monkey wrench #xiaolin showdown monkey wrench!#xiaolin showdown clay bailey #clay bailey #sunbird writes headcanons

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lilyheardjamesfall · 5 years

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Blinded

Chapter 4: Sweet Talk

Lily Evans was not easily intimidated. She was made of stern stuff, and felt that her character aided her greatly in overcoming almost any obstacle that came her way in social situations. She easily laughed off her own embarrassment, and would be the first to admit that she was not the prettiest face in the room. This is not to say that she was falsely modest, but that she was realistic and recognized the importance of other aspects of a person rather than their perceived attractiveness. In short, Lily Evans was an indomitable woman who was not easily cowed. That being said, she nonetheless was ready to quit Diagon Park the next morning.

It wasn’t that she had been ill-treated or made to feel a burden. In that regard, Lily had to admit that she had been pleasantly surprised at the hospitality, albeit with an air of haughtiness, that the London crew had offered. She had discovered a true kinship in both Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin, though it had been modulated carefully. She had enjoyed browsing Mr. Black’s library. Even her conversations with Mr. Potter and Miss Black, though not changing her opinion on them, were interesting. She just felt exhausted. Having to always be on her best behavior made her feel slightly paranoid. It was somewhat odd for Lily to try so hard at manners, but she did so for one reason and one reason only - her dearest sister Marlene Evans. If the budding romantic interest between Marlene and Mr. Black proved to have a firm foundation, she did not wish to cast any doubts on her own sister’s happiness or somehow sully her name with her own atrocious manners. So she smiled, she used correct language, and spent most of her time biting her tongue and trying her best not to let her attention drift. Only time would tell if her efforts would be for naught, but for now the objective of transferring back home was desirable above all else.

It was decided that Marlene would travel back by the Floo Network so as not to succumb once more to illness, but Lily insisted on taking the walk once more, saying that she had longed the past few days for a long stroll as she was in the habit of doing so often at home. Though her stubbornness was met with some initial skepticism, in the end Lily won out. After seeing her sister safely departed, the London quartet escorted Lily to the front door and bid her farewell. They all shook her hand. Mr. Black was truly sorry to see her go and commented that he would miss her wit and liveliness. Lily was flattered, but had to admit that she would also miss Mr. Black’s good sense of humor and cheeriness. Mr. Potter came last and spoke only a few terse words to her, but his handshake seemed to linger, and Lily felt queer at the feeling of their bare palms touching. She realized they had never touched before, and for some reason she felt a heat stain her cheeks. Her eyes snapped up to Mr. Potter’s hazel eyes, flickering with surprise before they shuttered over into an unreadable expression. Though she had much to reflect on during her walk home, her mind kept returning to the look in his eyes when their hands met. She felt it was the first time she had a genuine encounter with the man.

Upon Lily’s arrival at home, she was quickly filled in by her mother and Petunia on the latest gossip on the regiments in town. Lily had quite forgotten that there were regiments in town, for they were not a common topic of conversation at Diagon Park. This was most likely because no one there was interested in eligible and handsome young men. Lily had yet to see any of the regiments, but she found herself not much looking forward to the prospect. While a change of society was always welcome in the lull of the countryside, she felt that their company erred on the silly side of things, and she didn’t much feel the urge to laugh as she had before. She was most likely just tired. As she was about to excuse herself, Mr. Evans walked into the room with a letter in his hand.

“Mrs. Evans, I hope you have a good dinner prepared today. I have reason to expect company,” he said, his voice grave. The four women looked up at him curiously, sensing the seriousness about him.

“Why who could it be? It certainly isn’t Mrs. Prewett for she would have called or written to myself,” Mrs. Evans retorted.

“The person in question is a stranger and a gentleman,” Mr. Evans stated, a mischievous twinkle returning to his eye.

“Why you mean Mr. Black! Marlene, how lovely it will be to have him for dinner. Heavens! I must get to town and get a fine cut of meat! The fish that I have surely isn’t fine enough for him.” Mrs. Evans made to bustle out of the room, but was impeded by Mr. Evans.

“It is not Mr. Black. In fact, it is someone I have never seen in my whole life.” This got the desired reaction and all four women began exclaiming at once. “I received a letter from Mr. Frank Longbottom, who you remember will inherit when I am dead and may turn you out and do as he pleases!” Mr. Evans explained.

Immediately Mrs. Evans interjected. “Do not mention that odious man’s name in this house!”

“Ah, but Mrs. Evans. You ought to read the letter he has sent me.” He handed the letter to Mrs. Evans, who was obliged to read it aloud.

Dear Sir,

The disagreement lasting between yourself and my late father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have always wanted to heal the rift. For some time I was kept back by my own doubts, afraid of whether or not that would be disrespecting the memory of my own father and also how you would react. But my mind was changed as I recently received a parsonage under the patronage of the esteemed lady Druella Malfoy widow of Cygnus Malfoy. As a clergyman I feel it is my duty to promote and establish a lasting peace within all families within my influence. As the division within our Wizarding Society are deepened by the erroneous rebel that shall not be named, it is all the more important to put disagreements behind us and present a united front. If you are not averse to the idea, I would most kindly ask your permission to visit you the Saturday a fortnight from hence. I offer my greetings to Mrs. Evans and your daughters and eagerly await your response.

Respectfully yours,

Frank Longbottom

No one knew what to make of the letter, but there was little they could do besides ensure that the dinner went well, and so they set about preparing the house and their spirits for the impending visit of Mr. Longbottom. Mrs. Evans’ nervous chatter escalated throughout the day as everyone else’s patience shortened. It was all Lily could do from bursting into one of her tirades on the idiocy that solely male inheritance produced.

Mr. Longbottom produced himself on their doorstep promptly for dinner, and though there was the expected stiltedness on new acquaintanceship, Mr. Longbottom clearly did his most to put them at ease in his own manner. He was a sturdy man of seven and twenty, dressed in the black that his profession favored. He was not displeasing to look at, but did not possess a memorable face. His eyes skittered often over the company, as if studying them carefully, and his manners were relatively sober and grave. Lily reflected privately to herself that these manners are most likely what endeared him to entering into life as a pastor.

Mr. Longbottom did not wait long to shower them with praise, complimenting Mrs. Evans on the beauty of her daughters. “I had heard that your daughters were the most beautiful in all of Cokeworth, but I must say that in this case the rumors do not quite do them justice,” he stated, albeit it with little warmth, his eyes fixed on Marlene, who quickly looked down. Lily couldn’t tell if it was from modesty or to hide the sardonic smile that Lily knew to be there. The compliments were not terribly pleasing to anybody but Mrs. Evans who found herself liking Mr. Longbottom despite her firm resolutions all day not to do anything but continue to find him odious.

After dinner was announced, Mr. Evans finally engaged Mr. Longbottom in conversation over a topic that he thought was relatively safe - that of Lady Druella Malfoy. Mr. Longbottom could not find enough words to express his adulation of Lady Malfoy. She was his most esteemed patroness, a noble witch of incredible status that did not make her overly haughty. He admitted that there were many who thought her a touch too self-important, but he personally had been invited by her to dine at her manor several times, and he found her to be just as proud as she ought to be with her impeccable magic bloodlines. She had not only humbled herself to visit him in his parsonage, but also approved of his modifications and hinted at the hope of Mr. Longbottom soon having a wife who could appreciate them. It was clear that no one quite knew the appropriate response to his enthusiastic praise of Lady Malfoy.

“I am sure that she is all that you say and more,” Mrs. Evan stated. “It’s a pity that more great ladies aren’t more like her. Does she live near you?”

“The garden in which my parsonage is located is only separated by a lane to her estate, Grimmauld Park.”

“Does Lady Malfoy have any children?” Mrs. Evans asked. Lily glanced at her warily, knowing that the conversation would tend towards matchmaking if the lady had any male children.

“Lady Malfoy has been blessed with only one daughter, who will inherit everything when she dies,” Mr. Longbottom stated, as he cut his meat into very precise and similar sized segments.

“How fortunate for her!” Mrs Evans exclaimed. “And is she handsome?”

“She is a charming young lady, and blessed with excellent manners. Unfortunately, Miss Narcissa has a sickly constitution which has prevented her from pursuing many accomplishments, and her mother even had her discontinue the study of magic when it was clear that it was taking a toll on her. But Lady Malfoy has often made clear that had her health allowed it, Miss Narcissa would have been a formidable witch.”

“Has she been presented? I do not recall ever seeing anyone of that name at court.” Lily could not recall the last time she had participated in conversation quite this dull. She had spent the last few days with people who were haughty, yes, but they had redeeming qualities and for the most part did not dominate the conversation. Lily shook herself. Was she truly yearning for their company in the presence of Mr. Longbottom? That was utterly preposterous. She forced her mind to return to the matter at hand.

“Regrettably her health does not allow her to travel far and she has therefore not spent much time in town and has not been presented at court. Though I have often observed to Lady Malfoy that she has deprived the British Court of its brightest ornament. Her ladyship was very pleased with the idea and has often repeated it. I am more than happy to offer these little compliments that are so acceptable to ladies.”

Lily met Mr. Evans eyes over the table and hurriedly returned to her potatoes for she didn’t know if she could hold a straight face at the expression on her father's countenance. “It is happy for you that you possess the talent to flatter with such delicacy,” Mr. Evans pursued, picking up his glass of wine with a studied air. “I must ask - are these pleasing attentions fruit of the moment or are they the result of previous study?”

“They often derive from what is passing at the time, but sometimes I like to amuse myself by composing such elegant little compliments, but they must always be given with as an unstudied air as possible.” As if to prove his point, Mr. Longbottom studied his plate of carefully cut meat with an air of satisfaction before delicately setting down his knife and beginning to eat his meal with the dedication of a man who eats for sustenance and not out of gusto.

Mr. Evans expectations were fulfilled - his cousin was as odd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with earnest enjoyment, not having witnessed such a spectacle in a while. He maintained the most resolute composure, though he often glanced at Lily in shared, yet carefully concealed, merriment. After the dinner had been cleared away and Mr. Longbottom had given his predetermined compliments, Mr. Evans suggested that they pass the time by having Mr. Longbottom read to them. He agreed, though he objected to the novel that was initially brought forth. After much deliberation, he decided upon Fordyce’s Sermons and read to them in a monotone voice that allowed Lily’s mind to wander.

Was this to be their lot? To have their entire estate, living, and money passed on to this earnest and slightly ridiculous man? And all for what reasons? The delicacy of a female constitution? Lily chafed at the idea. But she knew there was little to be done. Though it would scandalize her family if they knew her plans, she was all the more determined to embark on her path towards becoming a Healer. Once her sisters’ futures were secured and the question of their marriages settled, she would proceed with her path. She did not want to hurt their opportunities in finding good matches and being comfortably taken care of, but she would rather work for her money. The evening passed and Lily was relieved to beg an early evening from the exhaustion of her move from Diagon Park that day and beat a hasty retreat to her chamber and her own thoughts.

Mr. Longbottom was a man of contradictions. Though he had studied extensively, his manner was reserved, stiltedly formal, and insipid. The humility of his office counteracted the pride that very position instilled in him, leading to a most strange existence in social circles. Mr. Longbottom had set for Cokeworth with the intention of finding a wife, for he now had a good house and an adequate income to provide for her, as well as the blessing of Lady Malfoy, who directed his life in more ways than one. He had hoped to secure the hand of one of the Evans girls, for it would be most convenient for both parties and ease many tensions that still lingered between the two families. His evening with the Evans family pleased him immensely, and from the first his intentions rested on Marlene, for she was the oldest, and therefore made the most sense for Mr. Longbottom when it came to inheriting the estate. The fact that she was also the loveliest of the three only strengthened his intentions to do right by his family.

The following morning, he brought the matter to the attention of Mrs. Evans, who was most pleased at his agreeable manner. She found it incumbent upon herself to hint that she believed that Miss Evans was soon to be engaged, but alluded to the fact that her other daughters were without obstacle. Without a fuss, Mr. Longbottom transferred his intentions to the second daughter, Miss Lily Evans. He had no qualms about her, for she had an intelligence about her, and though her allure was not the classic beauty found in Marlene, she had a different sort of charm - the beauty that one noticed immediately due to it being striking - from her coloring and her manner, she stood out, and was therefore beautiful. Mrs. Evans treasured the hint that Mr. Longbottom would pursue one of her daughters, and the thought of two of her daughters married contented her so much that the man of whom she could not speak of the day before was now high in her good graces.

Petunia intended to walk into town that day, and both of her sisters were eager to escape the house and the prospect of some entertainment in town. Mr. Evans bid Mr. Longbottom to join them so that he could have a few hours of peace, for Mr. Longbottom loved the sound of his own voice. He joined them gladly, and the party set off to town, attending to Mr. Longbottom’s inane chatter and giving the required encouraging responses when necessary. Once they arrived in town, however, the attention was drawn from Mr. Longbottom. The prospect of officers was much more interesting, and even the most studied of compliments could not distract the girls’ attention from them.

Their attentions were soon rewarded for they had the pleasure of encountering a fine young man with a gentlemanlike countenance and genteel manners, introduced to them by Mr. Cattermole. The young man's name was Mr. Severus Snape, and he had just joined the regiments the day before. This delighted the girls all the more, for a handsome young man is completed by his participation in the army and the colorful array of buckles and ribbons that entailed. After their introduction, Mr. Snape drew them into conversation so engaging that they barely noticed how much time had passed. They were drawn from their conversation only by the arrival of Mr. Black and Mr. Potter on horseback. They joined the conversation, the principal characters being Mr. Black and Miss Evans, who felt it had been too long since they had seen one another. Mr. Black stated that they had been on their way to Spinner’s End now to pay them a visit. Mr. Potter agreed with a bow, and was beginning to determine to not fix eyes on Miss Lily Evans when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of Mr. Snape. Lily, quite by chance, observed Mr. Potter’s face as they saw one another, and was astonished to see that both changed color - one paled, and the other went red. After a few moments Mr. Snape touched his hat, and Mr. Potter returned the gesture - stiffly - and turned his horse the other direction, plodding off. Lily was puzzled. It was impossible to know what the meaning of what had occurred was, but it was equally impossible not to long to know. Mr. Black left shortly after Mr. Potter, not realizing what had happened.

Upon their own exclamations at the lateness of the hour, Mr. Snape asked if he could have the pleasure of accompanying them part of the way home. They all agreed readily, and during their walk back, Lily and Mr. Snape ended up trailing the group and conversing easily. Lily was burning with the desire to ask about his encounter with Mr. Potter, but was unsure as to how to bring up the subject. Luckily, Mr. Snape did it for her, enquiring how long Mr. Potter had been settled in Diagon Park.

“About a month,” Lily responded, but was unable to move on to the next subject, and felt obliged to add something in a similar vein. “He is a man of very large property in Godric’s Hollow, I have heard.”

“Indeed,” Snape replied. “His estate is quite noble. It is clearly ten thousand annually, and you could not get your information from a more reliable source, for I have been connected with the Potter family from my infancy.”

Lily was astounded, and she could not hide her emotions quickly enough, for Mr. Snape smiled wryly at the expression that crossed her face. “Yes, Miss Evans. You are no doubt surprised by the statement given how coldly we greeted each other earlier. Forgive my impertinence in asking, but are you much acquainted with Mr. Potter?”

“As much as I could ever want to be. I spent four days in the same house as him and find him to be a most disagreeable man.” Lily thought back to the dance and his haughtiness at refusing to dance with her. But it was more than that particular slight, she knew so.

“I have no right to give my own opinion for I have known him too long to be impartial when it comes to him. I am surprised, however, at how confidently you speak your opinion. Mr. Potter is generally well-liked.”

“Well, most of Cokeworth thinks him too proud. He is not seen too favorably here.” Lily could say that with certainty, for she had heard several people besides her mother mention Mr. Potter in low and alarmed tones.

“I cannot pretend to be sorry. I wonder if he is to remain in the country much longer.”

“I cannot say that I know - I have not heard anything regarding his plans in the countryside. But I do hope that your plans will not be affected by his presence.” She sincerely hoped that he would not leave Cokeworth because of the presence of Mr. Potter. His company was most pleasing to Lily, and she found he was the distraction that she had been looking for. Her normal company was not nearly as interesting as the colorful Mr. Snape.

“Oh, it is not for me to be driven away,” Mr. Snape replied, somewhat forcefully. “If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on good terms, and though it pains me to see him, I have no reason to avoid him. Oh, had you known his father, Miss Lily. He was the best man that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had. That is what pains me so in being in the presence of Mr. Potter. His manner towards me has been scandalous, but what hurts me the most is the way in which he dishonors his father's memory.” There was a faraway look in Snape’s eyes, and Lily knew he must be recollecting the late Mr. Potter.

Lily felt her curiosity grow even stronger. Mustering up her courage, she asked Mr. Snape. “Forgive me, but what is the nature of how Mr. Potter has disgraced himself? I have heard nothing of it here.”

Mr. Snape stopped walking for a moment, his eyes flicking to her, studying her. He seemed to come to a decision and continued walking, his hands clasped behind his back. “A military life is not what I had intended to do with my life, Miss Lily. Like your Mr. Longbottom, I was also to have a profession within the church. The late Mr. Potter left me the next post in the best parsonage in his living. His kindness was insurmountable. He meant to provide for me, but when that pastor died, the parsonage was given to someone else.”

“Merlin! How could that be? How could his will be ignored? Why did you not seek legal counsel? Lily could not hide her astonishment, or the burst of anger that unfurled in the pit of her stomach.

“There was informality in the terms of the will which meant that the law would not aid me. A man of honor could not have doubted the late Mr. Potter’s intention, but Mr. Potter chose to doubt it - or to treat it as a recommendation. He claimed that I had forfeited my claim by extravagance and imprudence, or any excuse that he could fall back on. Certain it is that the living became vacant two years ago, and certain it is that I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man. And it is no less certain that I cannot accuse myself of having done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm and unguarded disposition, and I may have perhaps spoke my opinion of him too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But it remains that we are very different as men and he hates me.”

“This is shocking! He deserves to be publicly exposed!” Now that Lily was past her initial shock, she had to say she saw nothing in Mr. Potter’s character that contradicted what Snape was saying.

“Some time or other he will be exposed - but it won’t be by me. I could never betray his father, for his memory is stronger to me than any hurt his son may have caused to me.” Lily felt that this utterance only proved how gallant he was, and found him all the more handsome for those feelings.

“But what could his motive have been?” Lily asked after a moment of silence. For that was the only thing that was unaccounted for in the story, and she still could not grasp the utter cruelty that Mr. Potter had exhibited.

“A determined dislike of me,” Mr. Snape responded. “I cannot but imagine that his dislike stems from jealousy. Had the late Mr. Potter loved me less, Mr. Potter may have liked me more. I believe that his father’s attachment to me irritated him throughout life. His temperament does not do well under the threat of competition, and his father often showed preference to me.”

Lily remained incredulous. At last Mr. Potter’s character flaws had been revealed. She couldn’t help but remember when he had recounted his own faults to her not four days ago at Diagon Park. He had never mentioned jealousy, but perhaps it was intertwined within his pride, which he readily owned to. “I had not thought Mr. Potter so bad as this. I never liked him, but I thought that he just despised everyone in general. This act of revenge and maliciousness however, I did not expect from him.”

“I cannot trust myself on the subject. I can hardly be just to him,” Snape replied in clipped tones.

“How strange! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Potter has not made him just to you! For this pride should have made him too proud to be dishonest, for dishonesty I must call it.”

“Almost all of his actions may be traced to pride and pride has often been his closest friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling. But none of us are consistent, and in his behavior to me there were some stronger impulses even than pride,” replied Snape.

“Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”

“Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride and filial pride, for he is very proud of what his father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from popular qualities, or lose that influence of the Godric House is a powerful motive. He also has brotherly pride, which with some brotherly affection makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister. You will generally hear him cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers.”

Lily had to admit that since she had heard of Mr. Potter’s sister, she had remained somewhat at odds with the image of Potter as a brother. He seemed so reserved she couldn’t really picture him within a family, and so she was all the more curious about this sister. “What's sort of girl is Miss Potter?”

“I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Potter. But she is too much like her brother, very very proud. As a child she was affectionate and pleasing and extremely fond of me. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl about fifteen or sixteen, and I understand highly accomplished. Since her father's death her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and oversees her education.”

“I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Black. How can he seems good right itself, and is truly amiable, be in friendship for such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Black?”

“Not at all.” His tone expressed that he was not interested in getting to know him either, for there was a first undertone of dislike in his reply.

“He is a sweet tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Potter is.” Of this Lily was convinced. Mr. Black would never have formed an attachment to Mr. Potter had he known any of this. Perhaps he was more like Marlene than he thought - he may only see the best in anyone, and never see the faults in their character. Still, Black didn’t seem stupid or easily duped. Mr. Potter must have been very persuasive.

“Probably not. Mr. Potter can please where he chooses. He does not want the abilities. He can be a pleasant companion if he thinks it is worth his while. Among those who are all his equals in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is less prosperous. His pride never deserts him. But with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honorable, and perhaps agreeable, allowing something for fortune and figure.”

Changing the subject, Mr. Snape enquired after the parsonage that Mr. Longbottom was installed at. “Mr. Longbottom received his living from Lady Malfoy. I do not know how they were introduced, but they have not known each other long. He has taken up the position quite recently.”

“You know, or course, that Lady Malfoy and Mrs. Euphemia Potter were sisters. Lady Malfoy is the gentleman’s aunt.”

“I had not known that. I had never heard of her before the arrival of Mr. Longbottom. But do not fear, since his arrival I have heard of little else.” Lily did say that despite all of the terrible things she had just heard, the thought of Mr. Longbottom had a smile playing about her lips.

“Her daughter, Miss Narcissa Malfoy, is heiress to a very large fortune and estate, and it is thought that the cousins will marry and unite their lands and their money.”

“Mr. Longbottom speaks highly of Lady Malfoy, but I believe that it stems mostly from gratitude of his position. From what I can surmise, she sees to be just as prideful as her nephew.”

Mr. Snape grimaced. “I have not seen her in many years, but from what I remember you are most certainly correct. She is excessively authoritative and insolent. She believe herself to be clever and accomplished because of her rank and enforces her opinions on anyone who interacts with her.” Lily was not surprised that such a person would be related to Mr. Potter, and prayed that she would never have the misfortune to cross her path. She took her leave of him as they were approaching her home, but found that her head was still full of him long after he was gone.

That night, she related a shortened version of the information she had heard to Marlene. She listened with concern and astonishment. She did not know how Mr. Potter could be so unworthy of Mr. Black’s friendship, for he was the most charming and gentle young man. Yet it was not in her nature to question the veracity of a young man with such an amiable appearance as Mr. Snape. The possibility of him having endured such unkindness and hardship was enough to engage her tender heart. For Marlene, then, nothing remained but to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident or mistake, whatever could not be explained.

Lily could not help but laugh at her sisters’ stubborn need to believe the best in everyone. “Laugh all you like Lily, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lily, do consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr. Potter, to be treating his father’s favorite in such a manner, someone his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for character could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so deceived? I should think not.”

“I can much more easily believe in Mr. Black’s being imposed on, than that Mr. Snape should invent such a history himself as he gave. Facts, dates, everything he mentioned without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Potter contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks.”

“It is most distressing. One does not know what to think.”

“I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think,” Lily retorted, torn between frustration and amusement at her sister’s adamant belief in the best of everyone. Marlene shrugged, and turned to blow out the candle by their bed. Marlene fell asleep quickly, but Lily’s mind kept racing, keeping her long from the comfort of sleep. Her thoughts were all a tangle, but she hoped that in the morning with the brightness of the new day, she would be able to solve the conundrum.

James was shaking. He registered the fact blankly, as he paced the library at Diagon Park, the only place he knew no one would disturb him. Well, perhaps Lupin, but he had gone out on an evening stroll with Miss Black. James needed to be away from prying eyes and put his own chaotic emotions back into order; he hoped that he hadn’t seemed to out of sorts this afternoon. He had been snippy with Black, but hopefully he put down to a bad mood and not to the bizarre encounter he’d had to day with Severus Snape. He stopped by the fireplace, placing his hand over the mantel and leaning against it, his posture slumped as he gazed into the crackling flames.

Snape’s face beside that of Miss Lily Evans sat before him in his mind, and his chest burned. How had they met one another? What was Snape doing here? What kind of lies was he telling her? He felt incredibly helpless, which only made him all the more angry. Every time he saw Snape, bad news quickly followed. He wished that Snape would stop appearing in his life, especially as he was just getting comfortable with it. He wondered whether Snape had followed him here, or whether it had just been fate. He had to have followed him here. Was he to have no peace in his life?

His rage had not subsided, but it had become less blinding and morphed into a pragmatic anger that was simmering in the back of his mind as he considered his next steps carefully. His thoughts turned to Lupin. Should he tell him that Snape was here? He was bound to discover it eventually. He took a few deep breaths and squared his shoulders. He would have to tell Lupin. Perhaps Lupin would quit the countryside and James would most likely follow. It was for the best that he leave, especially since his feelings were leading him to wish to stay. But he would not think of that now. First he had to break news to an old friend and to collect his own composure. But even with these steps decided upon, the pit of dread in his stomach remained, and James feared that sleep would not come easily that night.

AO3 I Fanfiction

#Blinded #my writing #Pride and Prejudice AU #lily #jily #James Potter x Lily Evans #harry potter

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hellomissmabel · 6 years

Text

Exotic part 2

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x siren!reader, Steve x siren!reader and Tony x siren!reader

Warnings: Talk of rape and mentions of a suicide attempt

Word count: 3k

Summary: When you get to Wakanda, things take an interesting turn.

A/N: CLEANING UP MY GENERAL TAG LIST. IF YOU ARE ON THIS LIST AND WANT TO STAY ON THIS LIST, SEND ME AN ASK. IF YOU WANT ON THIS LIST ALSO SEND ME AN ASK. You can still get tagged in Exotic too but I accept asks only.

Series masterlist can be found here

Link to the dresses (skip this part if you wanna read the fic straightaway)

Reader’s dress:

Raegan’s dress:

Nakia’s dress:

The fic continues here...

The king is waiting for us at the Heli carrier platform, dressed in a smart, tailored black suit. His dark brown eyes follow your every move as soon as you exit the plane with Steve hot on your heels. You haven’t spoken a word to one another every since he confronted you about Bucky.

Approaching T’Challa with a steady gait, you stop right in front of the king with a tight-lipped smile and an extended hand. Aware that this gesture might be considered bold and too forward for a guest of the king of Wakanda, but honestly you couldn’t care less. All you cared about now was Bucky.

“Miss Y/L/N,” the king addresses you in a polite tone, his eyes just as sharp as the blade you carry underneath your tactical gear.

He shakes your hand firmly before turning his attention to the blond standing next to you. “Captain Rogers.”

Steve nods and shakes his hand as well, his broad shoulders towering of you as he rest his palm on the small of your back. “Follow after me, please,” T’Challa bids courteously as he shows you towards the main living room. There are three glasses of water and four glasses of champagne waiting for you on a table and you raise an eyebrow at the fourth glass of champagne.

Following your eyes, the king smirks a little at your puzzled expression but doesn’t address the matter. He prefers to leave you pondering for a little longer. “I hope you had a pleasant flight.”

Inwardly, you roll your eyes at his attempt at small talk, accepting a glass of water from Steve as he finishes his own. The king takes the third glass of water and raises it slightly. “To my friends, Captain Rogers and Agent Y/L/N.”

“Doesn’t champagne fit much better with a toast?,” you question T’Challa as he sips from his glass of water.

“You are absolutely right. My apologies, but I thought you must be very thirsty from your travels,” is his simple reply.

Steve feels the mood has shifted and the tension is almost palpable. “So,” he decided to break the uncomfortable silence, “T’Challa, would you be so kind as to inform us on the progress regarding Bucky’s awakening?”

“Of course,” he king nods as he puts down his glass and a gorgeous dark-skinned woman enters the room, carrying herself in the same regal manner as T’Challa. “Meet Nakia, my trustee. She is also a member of the Dora Milaje.”

The name rings a bell and you recall the all-female special forces of Wakanda that also serve as bodyguards to the king. It does not surprise you that Nakia is a part of them as the air radiating off her is a true symbol of strength.

Nakia hands T’Challa a folder that contains all the relevant information on Bucky and his recovery. Turning it over to Steve, he scans the pages and agrees to go ahead with the plan. You feel a little hurt that you’re being left out but keep you head held high, even when Nakia gives you a condescending look.

As if sensing you are displeased with the current events, T’Challa excuses Nakia and passes on a glass of champagne to both you and Steve before taking one for himself. “Let’s keep the business for later. Let us now focus on pleasure first. I am hosting an intimate dinner this evening and I would like to invite you, Captain Rogers, and you, Agent Y/L/N for these humble festivities. Once Sergeant Barnes awakens, he will no longer be chained to the trigger words Hydra enslaved him with.”

The blonde shoot T’Challa a gratuitous smile, pleased to hear the lies T’Challa is feeding him, although not on purpose. Both men are ignorant of the true extent of which Bucky was turned into the Winter Soldier, and you’re here to make sure that they don’t fuck up and forever send Bucky spiralling down the black hole Hydra kicked him in.

Someone coughs at the other end of the room, and a white-haired woman appears at T’Challa’s side. Instantly you recognise her frail frame and delicate eyes. But much unlike before, she is wearing a subtle, soft pink lip stain and winger eyeliner, a loose fitting blue dress with a choker and moderately high heels in the same colour as her dress. She looks nourished and well taken care off.

At first, she only acknowledges you, casting her eyes downwards when Steve takes a step forward to introduce himself to her. But instead she takes a step away from him and closer to me, smiling timidly as she recognises me too.

“Raegan,” I whisper her name very softly, “Raegan, meet Steve Rogers. He’s Bucky’s best friend.”

The woman fails to look at Steve when she shakes his hand but once she does, his breath gets caught in his throat. Never would you have pegged Steve for the kind of guy to fall for a woman like Raegan. But then again, Steve’s got a major saviour complex and Raegan seems like the type that needs saving, even if it is from an organisation that is no more.

“Steve Rogers, ma’am,” he mumbles a little clumsily and it prompts a smile from Raegan’s lips.

“Nice to me you, Steve,” she says all too sweetly, pursing her lips in a tender smile as she gazes over at you from the corner of her eye.

T’Challa hands her the fourth glass of champagne and she thanks him kindly, her voice having grown a little stronger now she’s managed to charm Steve. Seducing Steve isn’t part of the agreement and you’ll have to give her a stern talking-to when you finally get her alone.

“Miss Raegan here has been so kind as to help us identify the inner workings of Hydra.”

“I’m sure she did,” you coo just as amiably as Raegan spoke to Steve earlier.

Your change in tenor rings an alarm bell in the king’s mind and he gently puts down his glass of champagne, intending to show you your rooms instead and offering you his arm to take. With a cautious smile, you accept the king’s arm.

Steve is engaged in a light conversation with Raegan as you she guides him towards his room as well, following a couple metres behind you and T’Challa. When they’re out of earshot, the king leans in and voices his suspicions. “I didn’t not expect you to get along smoothly with miss Raegan. I didn’t however not expect there to be some king of competition between the two of you.”

Facing the king, you grant him with an innocent grin. “It’s not a competition. It’s just a lack of trust.”

“We are here,” you can hear Raegan tell Steve, glancing over your shoulder at how she holds open the door for him to enter and then closes it behind her again, her gaze locking with yours as she smirks with a wink.

Turning back to T’Challa, he also stops when you have arrived at your room only a few doors removed from Steve’s. “Follow me,” you mumble under your breath as you enter the room and motion for the king to do so as well.

You pay no mind to the lovely yet modest interior of the room, warm colours like forest green and brown clay blending effortlessly with the jungle at the other end of the window. Immediately jumping head-first into the attack, you lean against the mahogany desk with your arms crossed over your chest. “Is Raegan your guest or your prisoner?”

“Neither,” T’Challa answers while sitting down on one of the chairs on the other end of the room. Somewhat surprised by his reply, your face does not fall instead your stern no-nonsense expression stays put like a mask. “Raegan will be incarcerated a few weeks from now.”

“What are the charges against her?”

“How much do you know about her extraction?,” T’Challa diverts your question with another one.

“Nothing. Steve never said anything about it and Tony keeps his files under lock and key.”

Humming in understanding, the king links his fingers and leans his elbows on the armrests before speaking in a steady, noble tone befitted of a king. “Before Steve brought Bucky to Wakanda, Bucky gave us the names of the last locations of Hydra, including army bases and test labs such as the one they kept you and Raegan. I sent my best soldier, Nakia, along with other SHIELD operatives. They found Raegan in a pool of her own blood. She had sliced her wrists.”

Swallowing thickly, you can feel your blood rush in your ears and your heart pump in your shaking fingertips, trembling with the memories of your own suicide attempts. “We nursed her back to health yet despite our best efforts, she was showing some very concerning behaviour, extending to her personality.”

With a sigh, the man locks eyes with you, piercing eyes burning straight to your soul. At a moment like this, you’re afraid he will see your soul for what it truly is, pitch-black. “I’m talking about dissociative personality disorder, Y/N.”

You’ve read enough books at the compound to know what it means, your bones popping as you stretch your muscles as if preparing for battle. A psychological battle nonetheless. “Raegan continues to be a point of concern here at the palace. She has her freedom but she also has her limitations. She will always be escorted wherever she goes. She will never be left unattended, as are my orders.”

“Good,” you say with a strained voice, “Is there anything else I should know about?”

Pursing his lips in thought, T’Challa oversees the possibilities in his mind, weighing the pros and cons of your presence here in Wakanda and the information warranted for the safety of his people and that of his friends. “Yes,” he concludes after a heartbeat of silence. “You might find it difficult to… connect with Bucky once he wakes up.”

Knitting your eyebrows together in confusion, you tilt your head to the side as you gaze intently at the king. “How so?”

“You were the siren that kept him under control,” T’Challa continues as his eyes wander to the clock, noting that it is almost time to join the others for dinner. “He projected all his carnal needs on you to a point where you weren’t just an object of his desires but an actual subject. He grew fond of you. The Soldat grew fond of you and that is why he saved you. But the Soldat is not Bucky, and Bucky does not know you. Bucky knows Raegan, or rather, he knows the other girl inside of Raegan.”

The vase next to on the desk collapses into a million shards on the floor, your hand having flown to push it aside in a fit of rage. T’Challa is caught of guard by your unexpected outburst, the anger clearly visible in your troubled eyes. “How is this possible?!,” you exclaim in a fit of rage, rolling in thick waves off you.

Standing up from his seat and walking towards you as he keeps a calm composure, T’Challa rests a hand on your shoulder, his comforting presence halting your erratic actions. “Raegan, or should I say, Aria, will be attending dinner as well. I advise you to take a long, hot shower to collect your thoughts and reflect on your feelings. The girl you used to know is no longer. The man you used to know is no longer. But you are still the same woman, and so it is up to you to decide how to handle the situation.”

Squeezing your shoulder once, he exits the room and leaves a heaviness hovering over your head like the sword of Damocles. Nevertheless, you do as the king suggested and take a shower and inspect the closet for an appropriate attire for such a formal event. There you find a showstopper of a dress with a kind note attached to the clothes’ hanger in elegant handwriting.

“Compliments of your ally, the king.” It reads ally and not friend, leading to assume that a common enemy has made you allies after all.

Steve softly knocks your door, intending to escort you to dinner and stealing a moment of your time to talk things through. He feels he should at least apologise for being so rude to you yet he is fully aware that you’re not one to dwell on the past. When you first started the process of rehabilitation, Steve was the shoulder you’d lean on when the memories would haunt you at night and the cuts and bruises would bleed again.

But along the way he found you were distancing yourself more and more from him. In the beginning he blamed Tony’s advances for the subtle change in proximity even though you still recoiled from every touch no matter if it was Steve or Tony that was reaching out to you. No, there must be something else that drove you away from him.

All Steve ever meant for you was friendship, to make you stronger and make sure you could defend yourself should something bad happen to you once more. But you were just fine with being left to your own devices, seeking the solace of science with Bruce rather than sparring with the super soldier. Little did Steve know that you were pushing him away for his own good, just like you plan to pull him away from Raegan’s clutches for his own protection.

“Wow,” the blond exhales sharply upon seeing you in your gown. He cleaned up nicely as well, with a black bowtie and his hair combed back neatly. “You’re stunning, Y/N.”

As you retrace your steps back to the main room where everyone is already waiting for T’Challa’s honoured guests, Steve seizes the opportunity to hug you close and tuck you against his chest. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Y/N.”

With the other guests in your line of sight, you attempt to smile as warmly as possible while the ice courses through your veins, making it hard for you to stay genuine. “You didn’t offend me, Steve. You simply forgot I am an agent as much as I am your friend.”

When you reach the others, you notice Nakia is there as well in a beautifully satin blue dress with a flowery print. Next to her is Raegan in a silver top and a glittery black skirt that graciously cascades down her long legs. You feel a pang of jealousy when Steve’s grip on your waist loosens momentarily as his eyes fall on her.

“Dinner will be served shortly,” the king announces royally, the doors to the dining room opening promptly. The seats are assigned and you are seated right next to the king on your left and Steve on your right, across from Nakia and a woman you haven’t seen before. T’Challa introduces her as his mother, Ramonda.

“My son tells me you have a remarkable singing voice.” The queen addresses you with this statement before you have the opportunity to formally introduce yourself. “Would you like to sing a little for me?”

If conversation hasn’t run dry already, it sure has come to a stop now. Your throat suddenly feels sore, as if you’ve just devoured an entire plate of rusted nails. “I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed, your highness. I cannot sing, not anymore. A few years ago I was operated on my vocal chords and I haven’t sung since.”

If she is even the slightest bit disappointed by your answer, the queen does not show it to you, instead choosing to resume her conversation with Nakia. But she is soon interrupted by her son who clears his throat, the room immediately falling silent again. “Yet you sang to Captain Rogers on his birthday, did you not, miss Y/N?”

“Indeed she did,” Steve jumps to your defence, “And I can confirm she has the voice of an angel. Unfortunately she was hoarse for weeks afterwards.”

Glancing over at Steve, you throw him a grateful look and it seems the matter has been put to bed, until Raegan’s saccharine voice fills your ears. “Regardless,” she pipes up with a most sincere smile, “It would be rude not to sing for the queen if she has requested you to, would it not?”

All eyes are on you, Raegan’s challenging remark leaving you with no other option but to sing. “You are quite right, Raegan,” you chuckle softly while telling T’challa and Steve it’s okay. “This is a song I believe you will know as well. It’s called ‘the hanging tree’.”

You inhale deeply, starting off with a quivering voice as you recall the first verse. Yet by the time you are singing the third verse, it is with a calm and confidence, mesmerizing to the ears of everyone present.

“Are you, are you Coming to the tree They strung up a man They say who murdered three Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met at midnight In the hanging tree

Are you, are you Coming to the tree Where dead man called out For his love to flee Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met at midnight In the hanging tree

Are you, are you Coming to the tree Where I told you to run So we'd both be free Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met at midnight In the hanging tree

Are you, are you Coming to the tree Wear a necklace of hope Side by side with me Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met at midnight In the hanging tree”

It isn’t long before you’ve uttered those last sentence before Raegan lunges herself over the table and her hands wrap around your throat. It takes both Steve, T’Challa, Nakia and a couple guards to tear her away from you. But the woman that attacked you isn’t Raegan, your song having triggered the siren inside of her.

Tagging: @melconnor2007 @learisa @mrshopkirk @dont-speak-just-read @buckyappreciationsociety @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @lovemarvelousfics @pleasantdreamqueen @petersunderroos @movingonto-betterthings @palaiasaurus64 @ssweet-empowerment @lovemarvelousfics @rrwilson66 @reniescarlett @killmongrer @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @barnes-heaven @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @promarvelfangirl @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @a-little-hell-to-raise @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @viollettes @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @buchananbarnestrash @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @aletheladyinred @xbergiex @capbuckybuchanan @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @autijahnerd13s-blahg @sophiealiice @sarahmatthews7 @lumelgy @kudosia @daringtodreamawake @always-an-evans-addict @thegreentgirl @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @curvybihufflepuff @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @pineapplebooboo @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508 @supernaturaldean67 @cant-decide-at-this-moment @mehrmonga @specs15 @kanupps06 @imnotinsanehunny @sarahgracej @jasura @nerdyandproud9 @geeksareunique @jesspfly @badassbaker @whenallsaidanddone @jurassicbarnes @suz-123

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