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semischarmed · 4 years ago

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Inside

“Let me ask again- the FUCK do you think you’re doing!?”

I tremble in fear and stare in silence at the massive man in front of me, rank with the sweat of his daily session.

In my hands lay his used gym clothes, inches from my nose. My eyes widen. He was supposed to be showering. My eyes are drawn to the bar of soap among the pile in front of me. Shit.

Fear becomes arousal when he leans down to my ear, tantalizingly close, and whispers. “If you wanted me inside you so bad, all you had to fucking do was assssk”. He draws that last word out with his teeth, lacing it with venom and seduction.

“Cmon, fucking say it faggot. Say you want me inside you” he taunts.

Ashamed. Terrified. Spellbound. He had reduced me to my most minuscule self. I reply meekly to answer him. “...I want you inside me.”

I hear the corners of his face widen into an unsettling smirk. “Good Answer”.

In the blink of an eye, he vanishes from in front of me, rushing past my side to my back before I can even react. Oh shit this is really happening. I am prepared for the night of my life. “Strip.” I comply. I hear him make some movements and then... then... silence.

“What the hell?” I chuckle nervously as I look behind me in confusion and see his naked form crouching in a low squat with his hands clasped in a praying motion. I admire his massive sweaty muscles. He catches my gaze, looking up and giving me wink. I smile back awkwardly. “So-“

I am cut off by searing, unimaginable pain from the motion of him piercing my ass with his hands as he lunges toward me. Pound after pound of his thick arms shove up my asshole with so much force, he pushes me forward several feet. I stay still, breathing heavy for a few moments- not daring to look back- not daring to move an inch out of our precarious position. My mind races. “Shit. Shit. Shit. What was that!? God, was he ok?”

I finally muster the courage to look behind in horror. I could only see his shoulders. Shit. How is this even possible? God. Shit. I couldn’t see his head…he was probably dead- and judging by how far he pushed into me, I probably would be soon too. I whimper, tears streaming down my face, as recount my life and start fumbling for my phone. I felt sick to my stomach. How could this go so wrong? Every fucking time something good happens. Well… at least if I’m going out, I’m- My stomach churns. Wait. That... wasn’t my stomach.

Impossibly, I felt worms squiggle inside me- no they weren’t worms. I dial in on the sensation. They were fingers. His Fingers. He was moving his fingers. I feel them claw at my throat from the inside. My mouth opens uncontrollably as his digging hands choke me from the inside, scrambling for a grip. I reach up trying in vain to get him to stop. Shit Shit Shit. As my consciousness begins to dip, the hands have finally found a patch of my flesh around my shoulder. I pant in momentary relief.

With each patch of my flesh they touch, I feel our nerves intertwine, tangling into each other until I myself could feel his fingers as a supplement to my own. What the hell was going on? Then, I feel him wrap his arms around more of my flesh and bundle more of our nerves together. Whatever this was, whatever he was doing, it was intentional.

He uses his arms as leverage and pulls the rest of his sweat-slick body inside, almost forcing my own to the ground. I fill up. Near-bursting. Impossibly full. As I stagger to stand, I watch from the mirror as he shimmies more and more of himself into me. I retch unprompted, dry heaving at what was occurring before my very eyes, but the motion only seemed to suck in his fleshy mass further inside me. Still, I couldn’t help but begin to get hard. Him being in here was hot as hell.

I take shorter and shorter breaths, which again only slides more and more of him inside me, until the very last parts of him- his grimy toes- get slurped up in my asshole. My body wants to collapse from the strain of having to stretch to accommodate both our forms. Instead, I watch as his body is imprinted in my skin -near my stomach and chest, pulling me impossibly tight while he cemented himself in a fetal position. My legs begin to buckle from the pressure.

Before I fall, he stretches out his legs out inside my skin, stacking his over my own. They are sticky when they slide over my bones and musculature, likely from the sweat he was aiming to wash off with his shower. As he fills into my skin, my toes are lifted off the ground as my body rises to accommodate his far-larger form. My very own body betrays its owner, as it is drawn to his legs over my own and he hastens the process by corralling my skin to realign to match his legs instead. I can only watch and feel in silence as I feel the skin covering my toes detach from myself and overlap over his. I feel pricks as our nerves entangle together. His legs then digests mine, inflating themselves from my added mass. My skin constricts in turn around his legs, crushing them from all sides. From the depths of my body, a moan in his voice escapes my still-hanging mouth. Skin constricts even tighter and I wince in anticipation from the pain. Instead, I am met with pleasure as nerves fire and I reconnect to my new legs. Oh my god. This was everything… I’ve never been this tall nor my legs this muscular.

I wait in anticipation of his next move. His arms unfurl from their place, and I watch them slip over my shoulders. I look hungrily at my soon-to-be biceps. Yummy. This time, I put no resistance, as readily I allow his pythons to coil around my two stick-appendages. I give these arms of mine to him willingly, which he happily assimilates. Then, a massive tension in the skin of my arms, as they are forced to spread out, rocketed outwards from the mass of his flesh filling into them. By all accounts, it was uncomfortable, but knowing what was soon to come had overwritten any fear, any doubt, any discomfort I could ever have with lust. My arms were never buff, so watching him rearrange his arms to become mine makes me go lightheaded with an abundance of elation and desire. As his nerves join with mine, and I finally feel the strength inherent in my new arms, my head leans back from the sheer sensation of our parts being one. He flexes our new arm together, before caressing it over the imprint of his body still in my chest and stomach. This was a dream come true. Still… more to come.

I watch expectantly as the large mass of his head begins to travel up my neck. I prepare to accept my new self. I could want nothing more than to live as this god of a man as his new flesh. Before his head can reach me, however, I watch as the remainder of his body fill into mine, including that perky ass. My arms are helpless to my whim as he commands them himself. He smears my skin around the outline of his body, slotting his abs over my flat stomach, tracing their indents as they fill over, and giving me the exact very same six-pack I had always fantasized over. He pinches my nipples- holy shit- stretching them forward, before releasing. They rebound back, slotting into their rightfully place- right over his. They’re rock hard.

When the bare outline of his forehead head begins to peek over my neck, I feel him flex our entire body. He tenses our entire form, forcing my skin to compress even tighter around him. He continues until I feel a pop in myself. I look down and see the results. I see his wavy hairs pierce and poke through my skin. The scene was bizarre. He was literally wearing me. Though it was my normally supple skin, it was dotted by the roughness of his hairs. When our pores align, I finally release some excess heat. The scent was immaculate. I sweated his sweat, emanated his scent. By all accounts, I am his body. There would be no turning back. In the continuing process, I feel his organs and blood rush into mine. He was I and I was him. We now shared the same insides. With his blood rushing through us, I felt invigorated. Fuck. God. This was what he felt like every fucking day. I happily invite his wellspring of strength and energy as my own. This is what I am going to be feeling like every day from now on. We could do a million pushups right now without breaking a sweat. With him driving me, we would be unstoppable. My trance is broken when I noticed my dick in disappointment, unchanged from the whole process.

I licked my lips as his head finally slotted over mine. I screamed from the pain of my face being stretched out to accommodate both of ours. He had far better control of us and instead contorted my outer face into a crooked smile. He began panting and moaning as the force of my skin stuck our heads closer and closer together. At long last, I feel sweet release when some arbitrary barrier inside me breaks and a spark lights in me as his head accelerates and smashes into mine. I welcome him inside with open ‘arms’. ‘I want you inside me.’

He complies, greedily overlaying his very being into me. In all my memory, in all my thoughts, feelings, perversions, there he was and there he would be. I yield them all willingly, allowing him to become me, to transcend me. Our shared eyes close from the wealth of new identity he has captured as he and I become one. We would have each other in a way no one else ever could. It was beyond intimacy. With his tongue inside mine, he sticks it out of my face with a sneer. It’s a face I never made, but with our new selves, this just felt right. He guides them over my teeth. My jaw redefines itself on his terms, nose corrects itself to his shape. Altogether, he was wearing me as his own, comfortably taking and rearranging me to be a better vessel for him. Fuck did it feel good to be his outer shell. I think we both looked better like this- greater than the sum of our parts.

Dirty, lewd thoughts mix with my own as his personality bleeds into mine. I reflexively try to shake it off, but he is relentless. In his barrage of self into me, tears well in my face. Still… he continues to inject more and more of his self into me. And then... I finally let go. This felt good. Being his. Who’s to say if it was my thoughts on their own or our combined derangement, but the thought of him forever using me, forever being me? Sheer Fucking Ecstasy. This felt great. He subjugates my sense of self to forever be a part of him but I offer it willingly. Becoming me probably shaved a few years off him. Like my skin, He stretches my personality around his, further and further until we congeal into one. Goddamn. Fuck Yeah. This is fucking great. We lick our lips.

I feel a rush of confidence. The new me is brimming with it. We are alpha. My mouth and body move in a way that was alien to myself. He stands up straighter and cracks our neck, getting comfortable in our new form. We take our first real breath together as a new person, taking in more air than my old lungs had been used to. Amazing.

Then, his hormones rush through our body. Fuck. I feel an outpouring of raw, sexual energy. Our body steams up in the heat- look at me, who wouldn’t- and, before I could react further, he starts pumping my dick in manic glee. Fuck. As it stiffens, I hit my old body’s limit. Average. Our grin widens by his command. “Time for an upgrade, baby” I say with a jock-like inflection in my voice. It sounds immediately comfortable, self-assured, and it rolls off my new tongue naturally. It feels wholly unnatural. He speaks in a lower register than I normally do. Still I yield to him, trusting in my new owner and allowing his parts to coalesce into my vocal chords. A disturbing itch runs through my throat as our voices meld together but I know it’s for the best. This newer, hotter me needs a newer, hotter voice. We take a deep breath before roaring “FUUUUUCK YEAH! Muuuuch better!” in a voice that resembled a harmonius mix both of ours.

The itch courses through the rest of my body as I allow him to fully wear the rest of me. He brings my head to face the new me in the mirror for a closeup giving another wink. Beautiful. I watch as my eyes water uncontrollably. His amber eyes then eclipse mine, and we blink away the tears. In my head, I feel his thick, wavy hair push out beside my own, as my old hair merge into his. In its place, we now wear a crown of his hair signifying my new place as royalty. He drags my now-vascular hand across our chin, pulling slightly while a bit of scruff grows where bare skin used to be. He quickly nods our new head in approval as more of my features contort to accommodate their new owner. Yeah. We were fucking hot.

Then, I feel his thick dick slot into mine, filling it out. Jesus fucking christ it was so big. It stretches me further and further, until I am hit by another wave of paralysis, until my skin snaps back into his, constricting weapon and sheath together. The sheer pressure merges them into one. Goddamn we were huge. Our shared tongue hangs from our open mouth, as we release a massive wave of cum. It rockets everywhere, covering me in my new, alpha seed. We sample a taste of our shared genetics. Fucking delicious.

God we were so hot together. The feeling is surreal. There was nothing like it in the world. I was forever his. I am wrack in permanent pleasure from being us. He walks over to his old pile of clothes, putting them on. As they brush over my new body, I am flush with a sense of completeness. A perfect match.

---End---

Ok, Ok, so not as ‘light’ as I would have expected. I was gonna make something cute for Valentines day, but got sidetracked by... I mean... look at him.

#male possession #male shapeshift #male body suit #male transformation

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wildhannimal · 3 years ago

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Money Stuff

One of the best things that young adults can do to get the lifestyle or future we want (not even like luxury but just like... stable and maybe hobby-sustaining) is to become financially literate. It's not just about knowing how to budget to not overspend, but also how to take full advantage of your resources and opportunities, making the most of what you already have.

In terms of money, what we do while young can compound as we grow up, which can be scary, but now is the best time to learn and form habits. Rather than glorify hustle culture, this post is more about spreading access to information.

One of the advantages of generational wealth is receiving financial knowledge second-hand from well-off parents; the advice isn’t always still relevant over the years, but even basic economic concepts are probably more familiar to kids who grew up with somewhat financially savvy parents. If you don’t have that kind of experience, it can help to substitute it through other means (as long as the source is reliable, ethical, and non-shame-based).

Some of the resources that have helped me and people I know include:

- The Financial Diet: Often infuses ethics and intersectionality with advice about money, careers and general big life decisions. It considers the psychological and emotional relationships we have to our income, savings and spending. (Sometimes strays too far into condescension for certain things, though, so take their voice-over style videos with a grain of salt. I think those ones are contracted out or something lol.)

- Graham Stephan: Bit of a capitalist that sometimes leans too far into bootstrap territory but a decent guy with trusted insight, usually relatable content and data to back it up despite the clickbaity titles - great for real estate and entry-level investing perspectives.

- Investopedia's financial dictionary: I used this for working in the legal industry trying to learn new stuff on the job aaaaall the time lol. Don't know what a Roth IRA really is? This is PERFECT for knowing how different financial things function, what they could give you, who they best suit, what the drawbacks could be, etc. Good as a reference if you keep hearing a term but don't understand what it means. However, it can be a bit dense.

- NerdWallet: I've used them to compare credit card offerings, bank accounts with the best interest rates, etc. Keep in mind that they do have corporate sponsors, but they're good about staying fair to all the options out there on the market depending on their pros and cons. They also have a lot of free reliable articles about money concepts (credit scores, student loans, taxes, mortgages) that might be more approachable to read than the Investopedia articles.

- Your local government: Your public library or local government might offer certain financial resources or counseling services. This varies greatly between places, so it's worth a look but might not be available depending on where you live.

To be successful with money, you don't need to day trade, afford sports cars, have a mil in the bank or whatever the clout bros on social media say. Even simply owning your own home might not be right for everybody all the time.

The actual goal of personal finance is to have the resources to lead a happy life in a manner that doesn't harm others (or at least reduce the harm that capitalistic consumption creates woooo). It's about finding a personally peace-inducing financial state, and that's something that only you can determine for yourself.

#gosh I hope I don't get a million 'invest in our crypto scam!' bots now ughhh #money #finance #finances #investing for beginners #budgeting #adulting #life skills #long post

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mandos-sluts · 4 years ago

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The Payment

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, vibrator usage, bondage, dubious consent

Summary: The Mandalorian detains your criminal boyfriend you barter for his release

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!!

You’ve been tailing the Mandalorian for about half a mile, keeping a long enough distance behind him so that he doesn’t know he’s being followed. He and his bounty finally reach his ship and enter the open hatch. Once he disappears behind the walls, you sprint to the ship and tip toe up the ramp. You’re lucky he didn’t close the door as soon as they entered.

“Let him go.” You say holding a blaster in the air with two hands. It’s pointed directly at the Mandalorian’s back. He jumps and turns around quickly, reaching for his blaster on his hip. Once he lays his eyes on you, however, his stance relaxes and his hands fall back to his sides.

“Who are you?” The Mandalorian sighs in annoyance.

“Let. Him. Go.” You say as confidently as you can, staring him down, arms straight out in front of you. Why isn’t he alert? Why isn’t he trying to get you to drop your blaster? Ugh, why isn’t he intimidated by you?

“He your boyfriend or something?” He returns casually.

“I’ll say this one more time.” You state slowly. “Let him go, or I will shoot you.” Your arms begin to shake.

“Listen sweetheart, your little boyfriend is already in carbonite, and I'm wearing beskar, so good luck shooting me.” The Mandalorian says in a condescending tone.

You lower your blaster in irritation. This is not at all what you had envisioned this playing out. You thought he would at least be semi threatened by you?

“How much do you want for him?” You ask bluntly.

The Mandalorian let out a chuckle.

“Come on.” You say. “The bounty on his head can’t be that high. How much do you want?” You honestly weren’t even certain the exact reason for the bounty. It was probably embezzlement or fraud or something involving the illegal methods he used to amass his wealth.

The Mandalorian is barely paying attention to you. He’s unloading and his blaster, or organizing his blasters, or doing some trivial task in his weapons armory. “I’m not gonna let him go, I don’t care how much money you offer.” The Mandalorian says without lifting his head. “But consider yourself lucky.” He turns to look at you. “Now you can go off and find yourself a real man. Someone who can actually satisfy you.” He turns back to whatever it is he was doing.

“Excuse me?” You say, crossing your arms. The Mandalorian doesn’t respond or look up, and you stand there in silence for a moment. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but my boyfriend satisfies me just fine. Now...how about two thousand credits.” You ask awkwardly.

“That pretty boy?” He asks pointing at the carbonite chamber, not acknowledging your offer. “Ha. The fight he tried to put up was laughable. There’s no way he can fuck you good.” The Mandalorian says with ease. “Which is a shame, because you seem like you need a good fuck.”

“I–”

“I’m gonna depart now.” He cuts you off. “So unless you wanna go to Nevarro, I’d get off my ship.” His voice is deep and unsympathetic.

Who does this Mandalorian think he is? Why does he think he knows anything about your relationship? You feel like you should feel insulted, but it’s your boyfriend he’s insulting, not you. In a fucked up way, he is sort of complimenting you– implying that you deserve better than your boyfriend. You have a feeling the Mandalorian knows exactly what he was doing.

You open your mouth but pause for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. “Five thousand credits.” Is all that you can think to say.

“Little girl.” The Mandalorian exhales. “Your credits are worthless to me.” He says peering at you. “...but...” He pauses as he considers if he actually wants to do this. The Mandalorian is a highly respected professional bounty hunter after all, and proposing this kind of trade is anything but professional. Yet at the same time, you are one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen; he’s never wanted to fuck someone more. And he just apprehended your pathetic and weak boyfriend, he knows you haven’t been properly taken care of. He knows he can take you to a level you’ve never been to before and give you the best pleasure you’ve ever felt. That concept in and of itself fills the Mandalorian with arousal.

“...but perhaps we could arrange a different form of payment.” He says taking big, slow steps closer to you. *see gif*

“….A different form?” You say hesitantly as he continues to approach you. You can’t believe what you are hearing. You’re well aware of the reputations that Mandalorians boast, and you would never guess that one of them would propose something so risqué. To be honest, you’d be lying if you said that a small part of you wasn’t really turned on by the situation at hand. The Mandalorian was the opposite of your boyfriend. Sure, your boyfriend was conventionally handsome, but he is cocky while the Mandalorian is confident. The Mandalorian is big, strong, and tough, and your boyfriend has been waited on his entire life.

You’re frozen where you stand and your heart is racing as the Mandalorian creeps into your personal space. He puts his gloved hand on the bottom of your chin and pulls your head up so that you’re looking directly into his visor.

“Let me fuck you, and I’ll let this loser boyfriend of yours go.” The Mandalorian says in the deepest, sexist voice you’ve ever heard. But snap out of it! Your attraction to him doesn’t matter. You’re here to save your boyfriend.

“Fine.” You say, trying your best to project a neutral demeanor. “But I’m not going to pretend to enjoy it.”

The Mandalorian lets go of you and presses a button on the wall. “You won’t need to.” He says removing his gloves as the hatch closes. He sits on a bench and leans back, spreading his legs. He has an unmistakably large bulge that he’s not at all trying to hide. His arms stretch out on either side of him to rest on the back of the bench. You’re standing a few feet away from where he sits, and his helmet is glued to your image.

“Take off your clothes.” He commands in a flat modulated voice.

Your heart has fallen to your stomach. The idea of this was hot, but now that it’s actually happening, you’re terrified. What have you gotten yourself into? Why would you agree to have sex with a Mandalorian? Mandalorians are ruthless. They are feared across the galaxy for a reason!

You shake with fear as you struggle to get your shoes, pants, and shirt off your body. You discard your clothes on the cold metal floor and are left standing in just your tiny thong.

The Mandalorian stares at you for what seems like forever. “C’mere.” He says sitting up straight.

You walk over to him and he pulls you to stand in between his legs. You look down at him with what you hope is a poker face. He runs his bare hands all over you. His hands are so big wrapped around your waist, you feel like he could snap you in two. He gropes your ass and your tits and pulls you even closer. Your skin is so frikin smooth against his rough hands, and the Mandalorian can’t get enough of it.

“Fuck.” He spits out. “You’re so fuckin sexy. I can’t believe you settle for such a coward. He must be loaded or something.” He maneuvers one of your legs over his.

“Why you with him, huh?” He asks in a patronizing tone.

“None–”

“Doesn’t matter.” He interrupts. “I’m gonna show you what you’re missing.” He says as he lifts his thigh to meet your crotch. He begins rubbing his thigh between your legs, and the friction against your clit feels amazing. You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from letting out a little pathetic moan.

He removes one of his hands from your butt and brings it to his belt. All of the sudden, he clasps handcuffs on you, binding your hands in front of your body. Your body tenses up. “What are you doing?!” You exclaim. Any arousal you had is now overridden by fear. If you were nervous before, you are petrified now. The panic you feel is written all over your face.

“Don’t worry, little girl.” The Mandalorian says in a low, soothing voice. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” He says as rubs your cheek with the back of his hand. Then, he abruptly stands up and throws you over his shoulder.

“Ah!!” You scream. That’s it, you’re pretty sure you’re gonna die. He carries you deeper into the ship. Your ass is in the air, and your handcuffed hands are swinging down by the Mandalorian’s legs. “Wha– what are you doing?! Where are you taking me?!” You shout as distress pulses through your veins.

Without responding, he enters a room, and gently lays you down on a bed. Then he reaches over you and attaches your handcuffs to the head of the bed frame. You lie on the bed with your hands bound and stretched up above your head, completely naked except your panties. The Mandalorian loosens the handcuffs and lengthens the cord between your hands so as to spread your hands further apart from each other.

You take a deep breath and begin to feel a little bit better. Although the position he’s put you in screams danger, you for some reason feel safe with him. Your body still trembles, though.

The Mandalorian can sense your unease. “Relax, pretty girl.” He says with his modulated voice. He’s standing on his knees with one of your legs between his on the bed. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Just breath.” He says quietly as his hands travel down your sides. He alternates between softly caressing and aggressively kneading your body. The way he’s touching you, the way his visor is swallowing every part of your body, it makes you wet. You feel so small as he kneels over you, you can hear his breathing, and you can tell he’s holding back.

The Mandalorian is holding back. He can tell that you’re scared and shy, and he knows you’re inexperienced, so he’s trying his best to be gentle. He’s restraining himself from treating you like the whores he fucks the shit out of in brothels. The Mandalorian scoots back and runs one of his hands up your thigh before dancing his fingers on your clothed cunt.

“Fuck. You’re already leaking through your panties.” He spits looking up at you. You say nothing in response and try to give off an uninterested look. The Mandalorian moves your thong to the side, exposing your glistening pussy. “What a pretty little cunt you have.” He says as he drags his fingers through your wet folds.

The feeling of his fingers trailing through your pussy sends shocks through your body. You let out a high-pitched breath and bite your lip to stifle any more from escaping your lips. You really don’t want to give the Mandalorian the satisfaction.

The Mandalorian slyly reaches under the bed and grabs a small, roundish cylinder-shaped object of metal, of which you could tell is beskar. He gently pushes your thighs apart, and repositions himself in between them, your legs laying flat on the bed. He flips a switch on the object and it begins vibrating. He brings it to your groin and starts circling the vibrator on your clit.

You gasp and bring your knees into the air and plant your feet on the bed. Your back arches and your legs impulsively open up wider, almost inviting the Mandalorian in for more. You can’t even attempt to look inexpressive anymore. Your breathing picks up and your exhales are laced in moans. His other hand is on your thigh, and his thumb is stroking your skin. You close your eyes.

“Open your eyes. And keep them on me.” The Mandalorian orders, squeezing your thigh. He wants you to be looking at him as you come apart at his will. He wants you to see the things he’s doing to your pussy. He wants you to have to face the fact that he is bringing you such immense pleasure. The Mandalorian flips another switch and the object begins vibrating faster. You clench your teeth down on your bottom lip as you try to keep your moans as small as possible. Your pussy is so wet you can hear its gushing sounds over the vibrating.

“You like that?” He asks.

“N–no...” You respond. You wish that was true. It should be true. You’re handcuffed to a bed on a dirty old ship, forced let this vulgar Mandalorian fuck you to save your boyfriend. You should not be liking it.

He scoffs. “Your mouth is telling me one thing, but your pussy is telling me another.” Your denial of the obvious truth just turns on the Mandalorian even more. He loves watching your pathetic struggle to hide and contain your reactions. It makes him all the more determined to break you; he loves a good challenge.

Keeping the vibrator on your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger before pushing it inside of you. “Fuck.” You mutter out between breathy moans as he starts thrusting his long thick finger in and out of your hole.

“Of course you’re tight as shit.” The Mandalorian says under his breath. “Tell me, baby girl, have you ever cum?” He asks in his deep voice.

“I– I don’t know.” You respond as he continues pumping his finger and circling your clit with the vibrator. Frankly, you didn’t even know if you could cum. You know that it's possible for women to orgasm– you’ve heard your friends speak about it before. But you're fairly certain you’ve never cum before.

“Awww, poor girl.” He says in an arrogant tone. An “I don’t know” is a “no” and both of you know it.

Suddenly, he starts circling your clit and thrusting you even faster. He adds another finger and this just about sends you over the edge.

Alright, you don’t have the energy to pretend anymore; you’re over trying to put on this charade, which you know isn’t fooling him. Now all you care about is chasing this high you’re feeling creeping into your pussy. Your body has never felt this way before, you can feel the pleasure pulsing in your cunt. Your heaving breathing is now unapologetic moans.

You can tell you’re approaching a climax. Your legs are twitching and your back is arching so much. But then the Mandalorian begins slowing things down, though still persisting.

“Plea–Please.” You moan out, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. If you could, you would grab his arm and guide him to finger you faster, but your hands are still bound above your head.

“Please what?” The Mandalorian inquires. “You want me to stop? Or you want me to keep going? Be a good girl and use your words.”

You wrap your legs around him. “Keep going. Harder. Fas–Faster. Please!”

The Mandalorian lets out a satisfied grunt as he grabs one of your legs and brings it on his shoulder, opening your pussy up even more and affording him a better angle. He cranks up the vibrator’s speed and his two fingers pump you with unmatched rapidity. Your mouth is open wide as your chest heaves. Your eyes fall shut as you can feel your orgasm on the horizon.

“I said, eyes on me.” The Mandalorian orders with a stern voice. “I want you looking at me while you cum for the first time.” You force your eyes open and glue them on his visor.

He watches you scream out and come apart on his hand. “Ahhh!! Mando! Fu– fuck ahhh yes Mando! Yes!!” You cry, maintaining eye contact with his visor. Your entire body is shaking as your orgasm rips through you, a sensation you’ve never felt before.

“Good girl.” He says, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. “You look so pretty when you cum.”

“Mando, I– I want your cock.” You stutter out, coming down from your orgasm.

“Oh yeah?” He asks caressing your thigh.

“Can you let my hands go, please?” You ask in the most begging-little-girl-voice you can.

The Mandalorian sighs out. “Sure...You’ve been a good girl.” He says taking your handcuffs off. You bring your hands down and sit up while you move your hair behind your ears. You take a deep breath and move your hand down to cup his bulge. You’re so turned on that you’ve completely forgotten why you’re here. All you want to do is release the Mandalorian’s cock and pleasure him the same way he did to you.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Payment Part Two

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Masterlist

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Taglist:

@pinkninja200 @raspberrymama @stevie75

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars smut #mando x reader #pedro pascal smut #mandalorian smut #star wars fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #star wars x y/n #star wars x you #star wars x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #mando x you

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shouldntcryoverit · 3 years ago

Text

the art of discordance

captain rex x jedi!reader

previous chapter

masterlist

CHAPTER TEN

Hope you enjoy! Might start this series up again so let me know what you’d like to see and if you’d like to be tagged! 💕

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Jaida’s feet felt weighted as she plodded along the corridor. In fact her entire body did. She needed caf and, among other things, she needed peace and quiet.

But alas, as is the way of war, she’d have to settle with yet another delinquent briefing, which would most likely result in another mission for her to loose herself in. How fun.

Peace wasn’t an option as of right now, but caf certainly was. So as any ordinary Jedi going through dramatic changes to their moral code while fighting a war which had so far gone against everything they had ever been taught by their now dead master; Jaida went and got caf.

Now she stood outside the war room, significantly late, but with a half drunk cup in her hand. On any regular day, she would’ve surely rushed in; profoundly apologising for her misconduct and directing all her attention to any matters presented to make up for her tardiness.

But instead she stood and stared at the uninspiring, off-white and dented plastoid door with almost a scowl. After a second, she took a swig and entered.

“Jaida! I was wondering if you had gotten lost.” Obi-wan smiled warmly. There was a hint of a jeer in his aristocratic tone.

“Oh force I really am late aren’t I?” She tried to laugh, setting down her cup on a surface she’d found (ignoring the future ring it would leave), snapping into a character that would resemble her more awake self.

“What’ve I missed?” Jaida asked as she settled into place beside Anakin and across from Obi-wan.

The holo-projector before her displayed the usual; a barren-ish landscape with red dots across it, symbolising places she’d most likely have to risk her and her men’s lives before moving onto the next tiny red dot.

It felt fallacious to belittle that sacrifice to so little as those red dots, especially when they’d been planted like seeds as if they’re cost was unimportant. To Jaida, red dots had begun to look more like casualty reports and defeated medics; so much more than a speck on a map in a heated war room in the middle of comfortable Coruscant.

But as is the way of war, she thought.

“After the failure to capture Grievous on Salucami, we know his ships will be in this western quadrant.” Obi-wan gestured now to the map of the galaxy, the holo map had apparently changed as Jaida was blinking, and more specifically to a highlighted section of space.

Her red dots would be minuscule by now.

“Our fear is that with Grievous now in need of a place to get fuel and rations, he’ll attempt to take-over ,in effect, the next planet viable. Which in this case” The holomap zoomed into a reddish planet with a dark brown hue surrounding it, “Would be Yeon.”

“Yeon?” Jaida asked. “What’s on Yeon that Grievous could want?”

Obiwan shifted his weight before speaking. Jaida sighed; sometimes she really did regret asking questions so much, especially when the answer require a deep breath.

“Yeon used to be home to a powerful empire, though the dissolution of said empire left the planet vulnerable and corrupt. The wealth still remains, but without proper safeguarding. It isn’t unlikely that Grievous hopes to exploit this, and use their land and people to help secure more galactic wins.” He finished with a flourish. He did always make good speeches, however short or dull.

Jaida shivered. The thought of such peaceful people once again being used as pawns in the seperatist game made her stomach turn. Is this what the galaxy had come to? Perhaps that question could be answered another day.

Anakin, who had up until this point been studying his friends demeanour and desperately trying to figure out the reason for her obvious lack of clarity, spoke next.

“Our mission is to intercept their ‘invasion’ and protect the people of Yeon before Grievous can even reach them.”

“Huh, fun.” She clicked.

A few more details were flattened out, though they mostly fell on deaf ears as Jaida replayed the events of that morning.

“We’ll leave tonight, get a head start.”

Great, she thought.

The corridor felt like it would never end as Jaida carried a backpack towards her destination. It was half full of ration packs and bacta supplies: in short she had no clue what to pack for. The feeling of unpreparedness sat heavy on her chest, even as she commed Anakin to meet her in the hanger.

As she did, Echo opened the door for her, between beckoning to Hardcase that his helmet was where he’d left it. Jaida almost laughed at how mumsy Echo got the few hours before a mission; it almost matched Kix’s mother hen approach.

“Where’re we up to?” Jaida asked, hesitantly setting down the bag beside her feet as she looked over the clones all preparing for a mission.

Echo smiled softly, giving one last side eye to his dazed brothers before giving her his full attention “Almost ready.”

“Thank you.” She could always count on Echo, and a warmth spread over her expression, secure in that fact. “Where’s-“

“Hullo!” The other jedi spoke through a cracker in his mouth. “You good?”

“Where’d you get that cracker?”

Anakin swallowed. Echo had to suppress his laughter at how much they resembled begrudging siblings.

“Help me with those crates and I’ll show you.” He shrugged off, beckoning for Jaida to follow his path.

The good news was the Hardcase had managed to locate his stranded helmet, and Fives only laughed for a few minute at how he almost cried that he’d thought he’d lost it: but the bad news was that Jaida realised that she would eventually have to talk to her captain, who was standing by the edge of the hangar with Kix.

He’d showered, and his pauldron was fixed. He looked so perfectly in control as he watchfully peered over his men. Jaida felt childish almost instantly at the anxiety balled in her stomach at just the thought of having to look at his deep and piercing eyes to talk to him. This was that feeling ‘crushes’ gave you, as Anakin would explain, and Jaida didn’t get ‘crushes’. Not ever, and not now.

She began to help the clones prepare what few weapons they thought they needed. There wasn’t much to sort out and load up, but still among the Torrent company; it was a grand feat.

Jaida was counting reloads and ration packs when she sensed him. Rex, as you could quite obviously expect, was coming closer. She exhaled fiercely out of her nose and picked up the crate she’d been kneeling over. “He’s just being a captain, just be a General.” She repeated to herself like a mantra.

But when she looked up and his gaze was already on her, she froze; childish and with a crush.

“You’re coming too?” Jaida cleared her throat and asked nonchalantly, trying desperately hard to prevent a redness forming on her cheeks.

“Of course.” Rex spoke flatly. His eyebrow twitched slightly as the words left his lips, perhaps testing her meaning.

“But you’re still injured.”

Now he did raise an eyebrow, “I’ll be fine.”

Jaida kissed her teeth, slightly annoyed at her inability to calm herself now.

She nodded as no words formed on her tongue. Nothing to express the ball of emotion in her throat. The Jedi didn’t meet his eyes as she turned away.

Rex caught her arm as she went to bring her crate to the ship, but even as he stopped her pivot she was reluctant to meet his gaze.

“Jaida-” He tried.

“Don’t.” Jaida cut him off, finally glaring at him, then quickly skimming over the room to check if anyone was noticing their ‘conversation’.

“Just promise me.” Vulnerability flashed across her face as the words left her mouth, and even those crystallised amber eyes of his couldn’t make her believe he would.

Rex bit his lip and flicked back over his men across the room, before looking back at Jaida’s ask. He nodded slowly, accepting that he’d want the exact same if it were her. Whatever it was that they shared really wasn’t simple.

“I promise.”

She smiled slightly, before he let her go and she walked off to the ship.

The company left not long after, but not before Anakin and Jaida managed to bicker over who should fly the ship, then if they’d brought the right rations, then whether or not they were ready. At least it was entertaining for the clones to watch their General’s be so relaxed yet so uppity.

But nonetheless, the company all fitted into their respective places and the ship left. Jaida, after bribing Anakin, was flying the ship. She thought that it’d help her concentrate ready for the next mission, although it did also mean that she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone - so, plus.

The journey was rather short, but it certainly wasn’t sweet; for each time Jaida didn’t have to plant coordinates or watch the pressure levels in the engine, her mind slipped to the events of that morning, over and over again like torture. The guilt and worry pressed heavily against her frame; it was fair to say she was absentminded.

But they made it.

“I think we’re here boys.” Skywalker spoke over the channels.

The landing wasn’t rough, but Jaida’s vision through the ship window was too clouded to navigate properly through the thick air. The ship rocked as it hit the ground, and as the men filed our, their pilot was reluctant to follow.

The company gathered outside, Anakin knocked her shoulder; something he always used to do if she was nervous before a practice or exam. It made her finally exhale the breath she’d been holding onto.

It was dark when they made it to the village: a small dwelling lit with vibrant lights around each hut and structure. There was a hum in the air of content, they were peaceful people, and their laughter and chatter floated through the company like a warm drink.

Jaida wanted to welcome it, she really did, but she couldn’t, not when her head was this scrambled. She was still tired, and still torn between wanting to stay true to her morals and protect Rex, as well as desperately wanting to give in to her heart.

Mind over matter, her master would say. Though it seemed futile now.

Jaida followed her men into the village and tried once more to be content with the sweetness of the air. The sun was hanging low in the sky, but it still illuminated the tops of houses and slopes of hills in spite of the darkening hue encroaching. It was peace, the very kind she needed. Yet it would not breach her armoured skin.

The clones had managed to settle in rather quickly, having now taken off a few bits of armour and their helmets. They were standing and laughing with locals dotted about a wide fire pit, an area which Jaida took to be the market place.

After a cheer of babbling and exuberance calling for them, drums began playing in the background as entertainment; and the villagers seemed excited to have new guests for what looked like the first time in a while. They passed out food to the solidiers, colours of orange and green mixing on platters of fruits and perfectly cooked meat. After having a drank a few of their offered drinks, of which their alcohol quantity was unknown, Fives, Jesse and Hardcase danced to the beat as Echo and Kix tried not to laugh.

Jaida watched with an absent grin. She was resting on a crate with a cup of some sweet drink she’d been given by a swirling child, happy to see them so relaxed. Her view shifted from the gaggle of men to her Captain, who was laughing handsomely at his brothers’ feeble attempts. She tried to ignore the pounding in her stomach growing at how his face was illuminated so perfectly by the evening sun, and how it made her tongue swell to see him aswell so at peace. But it was rather difficult to ignore, especially when she couldn’t not-look.

Jaida placed her cup beside her and backed away, leaving the dancing and laughter behind her.

She found herself in the main hall of their largest structure, eyes closed in her own attempt at peace. She could still taste the wafting smell of meats and breads being cooked just a little further away. It smelt like herbs and spices she remembered only faintly from her own travels with her master. Jaida stood, staring at the painting on the closest wall to her when she wasn’t instead focused on her closed eyelids. Her brain was too foggy for anything else.

It was silent. Of course the base of the drums and the echoes of her men and their hosts still made their way in and out of the open windows, but it was silent to her. So silent that when footsteps began behind her she almost jumped.

The presence made it’s way to just a step behind her and paused. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who it belonged to, but still, Jaida cursed her abilities to identify the warmth and security it brought nonetheless.

“You left?“ Rex’s tone was more a question than a statement, and Jaida didn’t open her eyes as he stepped and stood next to her.

“I needed to think without Fives’ dancing distracting me.” She joked in a low tone.

“You call that dancing?”

Jaida chuckled lightly at that, meeting his smiling eyeline.

A moment of warmth spread between the two. It was as if the complications of their feelings melted away for a few seconds, and both simply relished the presence of each other. But it was short lived.

“I cant think either.”

Her eyebrows were knitted in slight pain and sadness, something he recognised within his own head. She couldn’t speak.

“Do you regret it?” Rex broke the silence between them.

“What?”

“The other night.”

Jaida paused loudly, but spoke with force after a second passed. “No. I don’t. ”

Silence again.

“I don’t know what to do to make this… better.” Jaida admitted, the vulnerability in her voice making her cringe.

Jaida sighed and fixed her almost tearful expression back to that familiar neutral coldness. “I don’t even understand it.” She almost whispered.

“Neither do I.” His words were barely there. “I don’t think anyone ever does.”

“Then how do you know it’s real?” Jaida swallowed, blinking down her rising dejection.

Rex paused again, but spoke with purpose. He had been brave before, now was no different.

“Because whenever you enter the room it feels like time stops. I always look for you, like seeing you will change everything. And you know what, it does; everything stops.”

Jaida was shocked to hear the confession, and it made her heart melt when she turned to face him. His face was just as creased as hers; just as pained.

He studied her eyes for a second, almost asking for permission to continue, or even to be dared to do so. But he took in a breath and carried on:

“I knew it when we were stuck in that cave, and you fell asleep against the wall. All I could think of was how perfect you looked. Force, I don’t think you’ve ever left my head since.”

She smiled. A wilful smile that covered all of her stern face. She knew that feeling he described and it made her stomach erupt as he spoke of it.

Her words fell as a whisper once again. “I can’t ask you to risk your entire life on this. But you can’t tell how much I want to.” She spoke louder now.

Rex’s eyes softened.

“We’re at war, Jade. Some things are just worth it.” Rex paused and looked to her. Her eyes held a silent beg. “You’re worth it.” He wanted to say, but didn’t. Perhaps a part of him knew that he didn’t need to.

In the dim light, he could hardly see her face at all, but the peace that had spread across it was blindingly clear. Jaida blinked.

And Rex closed the small gap between their faces and pressed his lips against hers; tender and gentle yet proud, as if it was their first. He lifted his hand to cup her face and she melted into his touch, allowing the warmth of his mouth to thaw the cold of her heart. The kiss was acceptance, it was emotion and it was thrill.

“I’m in if you’re in.” He demurred with lighthearted intention.

Jaida smiled softly, joy in her eyes that Rex only caught glimpses of, but she caught his lips in feeble ecstasy.

She broke away with a dainty smile, and Rex laughed.

“I’m in.” The jedi whispered.

He grinned again, wider now as a perfect laugh fell from Jaida’s perfect lips.

His fingers dropped from her cheek and found hers without question, taking her hand in his as he refused to break away from her hopeful eyes.

Rex squeezed her hand, then jolted, taking her with him as he ran out of the hall and back to where the music still rumbled.

Jaida let him whisk her away, gladly.

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dracosaurusrex · 4 years ago

Text

A New Kind of Warmth.

Part 5 to Notebook!

Summary: In which love and appreciation blooms within the small moments.

Pairing: Draco x Gryffindor!reader

A/N: I’m sorry for my lateness! I didn’t want to rush this chapter at the risk of compromising the development of the feelings between the two. That, and the fact that I haven’t been on a date in a looooooonnggg time, so I’m a wee bit out of my element LOL. I hope you enjoy! Once again, feedback is very much appreciated :)

A breeze had snuck into the shop as Draco exited. It was chilling. As it brushed your skin, you snapped back into reality, trying to comprehend what just happened. Looking around to see if anyone witnessed the scene, your confused e/c met with amused ones belonging to the owner, Scrivenshaft.

“You’re flushed, child.” He said with a chuckle. You felt your face. It was very well heated, surely enough. Your fingers passed feathered across your ears. Even they were warm.

“You mean to tell me that actually just happened?” The older man released a louder laugh.

“Ah...young love. It’s quite the sight to see, innit?”

“Oh please! M-Me and Draco Malfoy? You’ve got to be joking!” He only shook his head.

“Tsk tsk, whatever you say! Don’t tell me I didn’t say so. Are you going to make your purchases? Someone’s waiting for you outside.” The store owner’s teasing only made your face hotter as you approached the front counter. Your heart was beating at what seemed to be an alarming rate as the thoughts of spending time with a certain blonde occupied your mind.

“A little piece of advice from old Scrivey--be comfortable with yourself instead of thinking of what he’ll think. Men are suckers for gals like that.” He said as he began to calculate the prices.

“But sir, that boy is a Malfoy! I’m pretty sure you’re familiar with his...background.” You fumbled with your fingers as the words stumbled out of your mouth. You were a pureblood, yes, but your family didn’t have much as far as wealth was concerned. You would’ve never imagined yourself with the boy throughout your studies at Hogwarts. Because of this, the image of him and the vastness of richness was more than enough to induce your insecurities to overtake you.

“I am very well aware! It would take a lot from a boy of his calibre to show interest to anyone, don’t you think? You’d think with a family as luxurious as his own, he’d be a little more picky! That’ll be 12 galleons.” Scrivenshaft had a confident air in his voice. You handed him the amount as your esteem continued to lower itself.

“But that is precisely why you should be comfortable with yourself, child. If a boy like Draco Malfoy can see something special in you that he’d want to spend time with you, that says something more about you than what you think his preferences might be.” You were taken aback with the oddly comforting words from the shop owner, who you just met mere minutes ago.

“Don’t bring my hopes up, sir. I can only ask for that.” It was your turn to release a laugh, albeit an unsure one.

“Wanna make a bet?” You lifted an eyebrow up to him.

“You can’t bet on my love lif-” He cut you off.

“If I’m incorrect and this ends up being a horrid date despite you being yourself, then I owe you two quills of your choice.” You were a sucker for stationary, you couldn’t deny that, but that would mean the date would have to go wrong, and deep inside you were hoping that the time would be well spent.

“You’re betting on disappointment, sir.”

“Nonsense! Free handouts lucks me out of the galleons! I certainly hope it goes well!” You rolled your eyes and laughed as you picked up your bag of items.

“You should get going. I think he’s growing impatient.” He nodded to the window located at the storefront. When you turned, you were met with Draco’s curious eyes, eliciting a laugh from you. You saw a hint of pink spread over his cheeks as he regained his posture while a feeling of warmth had done so over your chest. You turned back to the shop owner to bid him farewell.

“Thank you, sir!” He nodded in response as you made your way outside. Your heart was still racing as your hands tightened its grip on the bag. It was only a few more moments.

Upon pulling the door open, a cold breeze and a bright ray of light filled your immediate senses. The chills of autumn nipped at your nose. After adjusting your vision, you turned your gaze in search of platinum hair. Once you saw him, your breath hitched and you started approaching him nervously. His back was turned to you, reading a shop sign of some sorts. You delicately reached out to tug on a small portion of his jacket. As he turned around, his eyes widened at the sight of you.

“H-hey!” You tried to say as normally as you could have. You felt yourself wallow in the awkwardness, thinking about how embarrassed you looked in his eyes. To the contrary though, Draco’s heart was pounding just as much as yours was.

“Hi! I didn’t expect to see you in Hogsmeade.” He straightened his posture as he held eye contact with you.

“I didn’t expect to see you either! What brings you here?” There was something about his silvery eyes that made it difficult for you to pull away. You both were practically entranced as nervousness loomed in the air.

“I-I was with my friends. They wanted to have a round of butterbeer.” This wasn’t how Draco normally acted around you, and this wasn’t how you normally acted around him either. Perhaps it was the sudden glances in potions, or the notebook that he gave. Perhaps it was even the way you had said his name numerous times, and the way it made him feel. Perhaps it was all of that that made nervousness rack your insides. Whatever it was, both of you were too flustered to think of what to do.

Feeling that the silence continued to drag on, Draco added, “How about you?”

You broke your gaze, remembering how you lost your friends because of the length of time you spent in Honeydukes thinking about the boy who was standing in front of you.

“I came with Mione and Ginny, but I ended up losing them after Honeydukes, so I went to Srivenshaft’s to run some errands.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the fact you got separated because of peppermint toads, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“Do you enjoy candy?” He asked as the two of you unknowingly started to walk around, aimless of a destination.

“I do. Although, sometimes I get bored of the taste.” You said, your nervousness slipping away for a bit. “Do you?” You looked up to the blonde.

“I’m the same as you, but not so much. I’d say that some candies are way refreshing than others though. I tend to prefer them.”

“What’s your favorite, if you don’t mind me asking?” You ask, genuinely interested.

He stopped and looked at you with glee in his eyes, “Rather curious aren’t you?” You felt another blush come up.

“I-I was ju-” Afraid that you seemed too excited, you tried to defend yourself. However, you were cut off by his response.

“It’s not something I admit often, but I’m a fan of minty things. Not really anything in particular. Just as long as there’s-”

“Mint?” You finish his sentence.

“Precisely.” You both laugh, as comfort starts creeping in. It was then that you suddenly recalled the candy you purchased a couple hours before.

“I’m glad to hear that. I think you’re in for a treat.” You reached into your bag for the peppermint toads, and whipped one of the blue packages out with a bright smile on your face.

“Would you happen to fancy a peppermint toad?” You wiggled your eyebrows with hopes that he would respond positively. To your delight, Draco eyes brightened.

“Ah! A girl with taste! Don’t mind if I do, thank you.” The both of you stopped in your steps, taking a seat on the closest bench. Your hands were still slightly shaky as you opened the bag of candies. Draco on the other hand couldn’t stop the smile that stuck on his face. He was appalled with the fact that you didn’t object to his offer to hang out, and the fact that he could relish all of your beauty for himself made his heart flutter for the millionth time that day.

The way the light peered over Hogsmeade created an aura that Draco couldn’t quite explain. It was much similar to the way the sun would shine after the rain--a new brightness, a pure sparkle. It was quite...romantic, even though he wasn’t so familiar with the feeling. He stared at you with fondness as you fumbled with the bag of sweets, taking note of the way your eyes seemed to form crescents as you reached out to offer him some with a smile. Your hair, once again, blew across your face, leaving strands to hang over slightly into the box. To this, Draco smiled. He tucked the loose strand of hair behind your ear before reaching into the box. He would flutter his gaze from you to the bag, and back to you again. He felt so welcome in your presence.

You watched as a satisfied reaction covered his face.

“They taste more refreshing now since it’s starting to get cold. Even more so because of the girl who gave it to me.” He glanced at you with a side eye. It was pretty chilly outside, but you only paid attention to the heat that rose to your cheeks. You shook your head, giggling at what you assumed was his attempt to flirt.

“Are you flirting with me, Draco Malfoy?” Your eyes met his, and locked into contact. He scooted closer to you.

“Perhaps. Do you like it?”

“You’re unbelievable.” You rolled your eyes and bit your lip before breaking out another smile. You glanced at the bag of peppermint toads, allowing the moment to settle.

“I suppose I welcome it.” You say, looking up at him, grinning. You felt different. The smiles you gave to Draco were different than those you gave your friends. You just couldn’t stop, especially when he’s sitting in close proximity to you with a smile that seemed to radiate the same energy as yours. His eyes were also much warmer and inviting--something that you only saw in the small moments you shared.

As the intensity of the moment continued to increase, you reached into the bag and grabbed another handful of toads. You plopped two in your mouth before extending your arm to offer some to the boy next to you. He eyed it carefully before a smirk had formed.

“Feed me.” He said, cooly. Your eyes widened, your heart quickened, the feeling was exhilarating, and the only thing you wanted to do was ride along with it.

“What the-” He dropped his jaw slightly, which ended up emphasizing the shape of his lips, pulling you into another trance.

‘Dear Merlin, Y/N! Get your head out of the gutter!’ You shouted internally. You cleared your throat.

“You’re not a child, Draco.” A jokingly stern voice painted your tone.

“Just this once?” He pouted.

“Do I look like a servant to you?” You said sarcastically with a raised eyebrow at him. He had a coy expression on his face, to which you only chuckled. Before he could respond, you took his hand and held it firmly above your lap with his palm facing up. Immediately, you took notice of small details of his hand. How small yours was in comparison to his--the length of your fingers reached only ¾ of his own. The way his skin felt warm on yours. How unexpectedly soft they were. The way his fingers looked similar to that of a sculpture. How these hands wrote every single word on the notebook he lent you. How it would be nice to feel your fingers intertwined with his. Your eyes were transfixed on his palms, forgetting why you grabbed it in the first place.

“Y/N.” His voice broke your trance. You turned your face towards him, your grip remaining.

“May I?” He eyed his palm. Thinking that he was weirded out, you stammered the first couple of words that appeared in your brain.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Before you could tilt the bag to dispense the candy, he broke out laughing, making you stop.

“You got me all wrong, Y/N. I meant, may I hold your hand?” Your heart stopped for a second, then made leaps, jumps, and even soared. As the heat fled to your cheeks for the umpteenth time today, you looked down smiling.

With quiet words, you whisper your response loud enough so that only he could hear. “You may.”

There was glee and innocence in your tone. Draco took control of his hand, and gingerly slipped his fingers into yours. The warmth you felt from his skin earlier had now wrapped around your own digits like a glove. Except now, instead of keeping them extended, you clasped them against his knuckles, taking in the comfort that came along with his presence. You sighed in pleasure.

“I might be getting ahead of myself, but this feels right.” You admit quietly while looking at the sight before you.

“I’m in favor with that statement.” He says as he squeezes your hand with more pressure.

The both of you bask within the afternoon autumn sunlight in silence. Crisp breezes compliment the air as it travels through the cozy town. Rays shoot past the pointed roofs and scatter over the streets and shop windows, contrasting sharply with the darkness of the shade. The bustling footsteps of the crowds fill your ears, but it is the sense of touch that completely overtakes the moment. A touch that is filled with respect, with purity, with affection, with gentleness, and with warmth. The mere act of sitting and holding hands is one to relish for a long time. It is then that the feeling of gratefulness touches your heart as you recall Scrivenshaft’s words. You were beginning to grow more comfortable with Draco Malfoy.

A/N: Autumn and winter are my favorite seasons. There’s just something about it’s coziness that automatically reminds of romance haha. I want to thank you all for the support you’ve given me with this fic. I initially had meant for it to be a oneshot, but seeing it grow as a series helps me exercise my mind and find new ways to elicit *feels* haha. On a serious note, I appreciate you all and I hope you all have a wonderful day!

Here’s Part 4!

Taglist: @m-winchester-67 @bbeauttyybbx @un-limit-edd @poetontheblock @tttyrus @stretchyice @vaeonshi @bittersweetthoughts--ofinsanity @saptediavoli @kookie-vuitton @thatguppienamedbae

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x oc #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #slytherdor #gryfferin #slytherin #gryffindor #hogwarts

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songtoyou · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 2: First Meeting

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 2,778

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault. Sexual activity between two consenting adults.

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

A/N: Again, the response to this fic has been wonderful. We learn more about Rose and find out why Lizzie left. Rose meets Tommy for the first time and begins the process of solidifying their arrangement.

Note: Italics represent the past or past conversations.

Feedback is wonderful. It is nice knowing if people actually like this fic.

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Saturday rolled faster than a blink of an eye. Rose was not nervous about tonight's meeting with her new client. A part of her was looking forward to it. Taking the time to look up Tommy Shelby on the Internet, Rose found out more about the man she would be possibly spending most of her time around. His backstory was interesting. The man started from nothing. It was no wonder Tommy was a massive celebrity within the business community. Inspiring entrepreneurs looked up to him and how he accumulated his wealth.

Rose was aware that Tommy's business practices were not always ethical, just like she knew that Alfie, Luca, and her other clients all dealt in questionable behavior to stay ahead of the game. It was like these guys did not know that the 1920s were long gone, and their little gangs should have considered obsolete in these present times. But it was not her job to question them as part of her did not care. All Rose wanted was to get paid and have a little pleasure herself once in a while. She hoped Tommy was good in bed as Lizzie mentioned he was. She had no reason not to believe her former coworker.

It was a terrible incident at the club that made Lizzie leave for good. All because of Oswald Mosley and his sick and deviant behavior. Oswald was a Member of Parliament for South Staffordshire and the youngest member of the Conservative party. His influence within the party continued to gain strength as the young politician expressed his outlandish views that tended to lean towards fascism. Many other MPs have tried to rebuke Mosley's power but to no avail. His supporters only rallied behind him more. He was garnering more attention and enthusiasm to start his very own nationalist party within Great Britain. This idea worried many other MPs, even within the Conservative Party.

As Mosley's profile continued to rise, he found himself needing a form of release. It did not take long for him to receive an invitation to join Excelsior. Politicians were another form of clientele for the club. However, word soon spread about Mosley's odd behavior with the girls. The man had a weird fetish for rape and sexual assault fantasies. Not many girls wanted to partake in that act. Rose quickly passed on having Mosley as one of her clients since non-consensual/dubious consent was not something she gravitated towards when it came to pleasure.

Some of the girls confided in Rose they felt after being with Mosley. Many were scared to inform Izabella or Tatiana in fear of getting fired. Unfortunately, it took the incident with Lizzie that left her brutally scarred, both physically and psychologically, to have Mosley permanently banned from Excelsior. What made it worse was that no one could do anything to Mosley outside the club, no police reports, no arrests, nothing. He was too powerful.

The only thing Lizzie said to Rose was that Mosley took it too far and that she was rethinking her time at the club. When Lizzie did not show up for three days, Rose knew that she left the life of escorting for good.

Giving herself one last look in the mirror, Rose opted for the wine-colored long drape dress, with a silver belt to extenuate her hips, and topped it off with silver ankle strap heels. Satisfied with how she looked, Rose grabbed her clutch (silver as well) and walked towards the front door.

"Mom, you are coming home later, right?" asked Louis as he sat in the living room watching television.

"Uh…probably won't be home until late. I'm simply hanging out with the girls. Don't wait up, sweetie," said Rose kissing her son on the top of his head.

"Aren't you a little too dressed up for a girl's night out?"

"Louis, darling, here is some advice about women. We like to look nice now and then. It makes us feel good. So, don't ever question why your mummy is all dolled up, okay. The girls and I are celebrating Ellie's promotion at the firm. That is all. Now, do not stay up too late. See you later, love."

"Bye, mum."

Rose hated lying to her son, but there was no way she would ever reveal the truth to him about how they could afford their lifestyle.

As a teen mom, Rose worked tirelessly from different part-time jobs to get food on the table. She was tired of struggling to make ends meet. Rose wanted more for her son. By Rose's mid-twenties, she bit the bullet and became an exotic dancer. The nerves and humiliation wore off quickly when Rose counted her tips. It was the most she had ever made and all in one night. She had no intentions of ever becoming a high-end call girl. But again, the money proved to be too good to pass up. It also helped the Duchess and Princess give their girls some sense of agency and control over what they do and partake in certain activities. Rose's clients did not seem to understand or realize that she held all of the power. She was not a puppet, nor was she naïve.

Tommy continued to check his watch every fifteen minutes. Rose was not late by any means; it was merely a habit. It gave him something to do since he was not allowed to smoke at The Savoy. He instructed Rose to meet at the hotel's bar and restaurant at precisely 9:00 p.m.

He was not nervous as Tommy Shelby did not get nervous. He wanted to get the night started. The man needed some release.

"Mr. Shelby," spoke the hostess. "I have a Miss Turner here to see you."

"Yes, thank you. Send Miss Turner over, please," ordered Tommy and downed his glass of Irish whiskey in one gulp.

For a second, Tommy thought he forgot how to breathe when he saw Rose walk towards him. He would not deny that she was breathtakingly beautiful.

"Mr. Shelby," she greeted him with a quick kiss on his cheek. Thankfully, no lipstick residue on his face. Men hated when that happened, Rose learned.

"Miss Turner. It is a pleasure to meet you in person finally," said Tommy as he helped Rose into her seat. He could be a gentleman when he wanted to be one. His Aunt Polly raised him right.

After giving her drink order to the waiter and a refill for Tommy, the two were left alone for the time being. Unsure of where the conversation should start, Rose chose to cut to the chase.

"How do you want tonight to go, exactly? Are we here to talk about, I don't know what you call it, our agreement, our arrangement? Or should we…"

"I say we talk about what we like and don't like," Tommy cut Rose off.

When the waiter brought their drinks, Rose took a sip of her white wine, while Tommy sipped his whiskey.

"My file should have included my interests. What I will and won't do with a man," Rose reminded him.

"Indeed, it did, but a file can only tell me so much. I would rather hear it from you, Miss Turner. So, tell me, what gets you off?" asked Tommy in a low voice as he leaned over the table. Thankfully, the two were at a back corner table with no other patrons around.

Taking another sip of her wine, Rose leaned in as well. "I like being dominated. From your file, you like being the dominant one. I like being tied up, gagged, and made to cum over and over again until I can't take it anymore. Orgasm denial, I like that as well—humiliation or degradation, whatever you want to call it. I don't care for that at all. It has never turned me on."

"What about pain? What is your pain threshold?" Tommy questioned.

"Pretty high."

"So, nipple clamps, whips, floggers…none of that bothers you?"

Rose shook her head 'no' and asked Tommy what kinds of punishment he prefers.

"Spankings with my bare hands and edging. Punishments only occur if I deem you being bratty or don't follow my rules."

Rose nodded, indicating she understood. "Pretty standard forms of punishment for a dominant."

The waiter stopped by again, asking if they wanted another drink or order some food. "I'm okay, thank you," said Rose.

"I liked to order champagne for our room, please," Tommy requested and told the waiter his room number. Rose was not surprised that he was in one of the hotel's suites. On different occasions, she had been to The Savoy Hotel, mostly with her other clients for leisurely visits now and then when they called for her services.

Taking another sip of her drink, Rose started to feel unsure to ask Tommy next. "Is there anything particular that you like or don't like?"

Gulping down his whiskey once again, Tommy stood up from his seat and helped you out of yours.

"Let's head up, and I can show you what I like. You can take your drink with you," mentioned Tommy buttoning up his suit jacket.

Rose gulped down her wine and grabbed her purse. "No need. I'm ready," she said and looped her arm around his. Tommy kept his strides short throughout the walk to the elevator. Rose noticed how the other hotel patrons all seemed to fawn over the man she was with while the employees moved out of his way. Rose found it amusing when in the elevator the people who were already in quickly left, leaving them alone on the ride up to his suit.

"People go out of their way to accommodate you, don't they, Mr. Shelby. Must be nice to have all that power over others," Rose stated admiringly.

Tommy smirked and looked at Rose, "When you come from nothing, you work extra hard to achieve everything, even peoples' fear of you. What about you? Must you find it exhilarating to have powerful men at your fingertips? I would not be shocked that once your clients and I told Tatiana that I have an idea of who they are, well, they are not going to be happy about losing you to me. I have a lot of enemies, Miss Turner, but rest assure that while you are in my company, you will be safe and protected."

The elevator dinged indicated they made it to their destination. Leading the way once again, Tommy steered them down the hall and stopped at the door of his suite. Once he got Rose inside, he took off his suit jacket and opened the doors to the balcony where he could finally get his nicotine fix. He offered one to Rose, but she declined. Tommy watched as Rose looked around the suite. He took this time to look at the woman before him; she would not be deemed the model-type with her 5'7 stature, nor was she skin and bones. Dark brown hair ran past her shoulders, and her skin had a lovely complexion. Tommy took one last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out on the balcony.

He slowly walked up behind Rose and wrapped his strong arms around, inhaling her scent; he began to grind himself against her backside. Rose promptly reciprocated and matched his rhythm. Trailing kisses down Rose's neck, Tommy moved his hands to squeeze her breasts. He quickly turned her around and began kissing her on the mouth. His dominant side was finally allowed to be released.

When Rose pulled away, it took Tommy by surprise. When he began to pull Rose back towards him, she put her hands on his chest. "I need to freshen up first, is that okay?"

Letting out a sigh, Tommy motioned her towards the bathroom. "I won't be long; I promise," assured Rose. Once in the bathroom, she began to take off her heels and dress. She hung her dress on the door hook, placed her heels to the side, and then looked herself over in the mirror. Smoothing out her hair, Rose dug in her clutch to quickly check her phone. No messages from her son. Now, Rose would be able to focus on the task at hand entirely.

Rose exited the bathroom to see Tommy waiting for her on the couch, no longer wearing his tie and vest, shirt partly unbuttoned. She walked towards him, where he indicated he wanted Rose on her knees. Spreading his legs, Rose kneeled and began unzipping his pants, reaching for his hardened member and gave it a few strokes. She looked up to see Tommy stretch and lay his head back against the couch, indicated he was comfortable and was ready for Rose to begin. Rose licked her lips and opened her mouth to take him in as much as far as possible. Rose did not stop until she felt him at the back of her throat.

Rose pulled away for a second to lick off the precum of Tommy's dick before proceeding to lick the entire length. She went back to sucking once Tommy put his hand in her hair. He bobbed her head back and forth at a fast pace. Tommy felt like he was about to explode his load in Rose's mouth he backed off. Rose took the time to catch her breath. She watched as Tommy took off his shirt and got up from the couch.

"Up," he ordered, and Rose followed obediently.

She never took her eyes off Tommy while he walked to the bedroom.

"Take this off," Tommy ordered, indicating he wanted her bra off.

Once again, Rose followed his orders. She tossed the bra to the side, and Tommy walked closer to her. He reached for her breast and began to squeeze them, tugging on her nipples. When he started to pull her nipples extra hard, Rose let out a little squeak.

"Too hard?" Tommy asked and released his tight grip.

"No. I mean, it hurts, but it feels good too," Rose answered truthfully.

Tommy once again started pulling on her nipples as hard as he could without hurting Rose too much. He pressed his lips against hers. Rose quickly reciprocated the action and ran her hands through his hair. Backing Rose towards the bed, he lightly pushed her, where she softly plopped down. Tugging her underwear down, Tommy tossed them to the side and ran a finger up-and-down her folds.

"Wet, as I expected. Let me see how many fingers you can take, shall we," amused Tommy and slipped, not one, but two fingers inside Rose. He soon began pumping his fingers in and out.

He kept going while Rose emitted more moans from her mouth. She was panting and getting closer to needing release. But she knew a sweet release would not come easy. No, Tommy was going to have Rose work for it. She was about the beg to cum when Tommy pulled his fingers out of her cunt.

Tracing his thumb against her clit, Rose let out a squeal at the new feeling. Tommy smirked. That feeling of control, control over this woman's body, it's what made Tommy feel at ease. It allowed for his head to feel clear. Tommy did not have to worry about business deals or rival gangs; instead, his focus was all on the woman before him writhing in pleasure.

Inserting his fingers back in her cunt, Tommy added a third finger this time. Rose sat up on her elbows to watch Tommy. She saw the looked of deep concentration on his face. When he reached that spot, Rose jerked up, and Tommy used his free hand to push her back down on the bed.

"I'm going to cum. I need to cum," Rose panted out, but Tommy kept going.

"Not yet," he merely said. "You do not cum until I say you can, understood." It was an order, not a question.

"Yes…yes sir," Rose managed to say. She did not know how long she would last.

"Cum!" Tommy commanded and Rose more than happily followed it.

Pure bliss is all Rose felt until Tommy pried her mouth open with the fingers that were in her.

"Lick them clean for me, love. Taste yourself."

When she licked his fingers clean, Tommy took off his pants and underwear. He crawled on top of Rose and began kissing her stomach, each breast, her neck, and finally lips.

"You're not tired out yet, are you love?" he asked her.

When Rose shook her head no, Tommy leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Good. It is going to be a long night for you."

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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crispycrimebrulee · 4 years ago

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Chrollo x Reader: ~Heart of Hermes~

Part 1: Legends & Ghosts Are One in the Same

The air at the end of a warm, summery month always carries the memories of adventures from earlier days, letting nostalgia course through souls as it passes by. Much like the wind and nostalgic summer dreams, the last days of August were sweet and fleeting. However, the summer days and adventures are only fleeting to those who have something to return to at the end of the summer; school, jobs, responsibilities, taught ties to society and such. Some rare, eccentric people will find a way to be away from such ties, being self employed or free from responsibilities like school. Alas it is still the same as being tied down, but with only half an anchor. The truly free souls, away from society and its constructs, are ghosts. Not to say that our dearly departed fellow friends are better off, no. The ghosts that slip past the systems and norms, the gated constructs of the world, those that slip by those confines are truly free. Albeit, they tend to be criminals, or legends, to which, who’s really to say they can’t be both? Who’s to say… you can’t be both? Here you are, y/n, away from it all, yet involved in the thick of it. Not a single responsibility to return to, not a single person, not a single construct, not even… taxes. Taxes always seem to be one of those things people like to avoid. A ghost, a legend. Free to roam the earth and whatever it is she has to offer, and she offers it all. It’s yours to take, so why let it sit by and collect dust? The best at taking the world for what she is, are thieves, or rather, to be respectful, someone with a deep appreciation for any and all items so much to the effect that they take it. Money, books, jewels, priceless artifacts, all yours if you so choose it to be. So, you chose, y/n, to be a ghost.

Picking yourself up from the bench, you made your way home. Home never really had a set place, moreso it was really where you decided to place yourself while you did your occupation. This time around, you had managed to swindle your way into a hotel room in Mimbo Republic, close to your next job. The park you had been seated in was just outside the Museum of Minerva, a museum dedicated to documenting and collecting the advancements of art, science, technology and architecture from thousands of years ago. It held ancient, nearly sacred text that pushed the boundaries of human knowledge as it stood. You’d been studying the layout of it for a week now, determined to find the best point of entry. What reason did you have for getting in there? Entrance was free after all, and all exhibits were open. If you wanted books or materials you simply had to walk in and find it. A book in plain view in the library section of the museum had caught your eye, no less than a week ago, about the history of the museum. Listing the architectural process, the founders, the individuals who funded the building, the types of work and who donated artifacts was listed inside of the book; a small diary of the life of the museum. However, in the margins of the pages were other small secrets, visible enough if you spread the book wide, nearly popping the seams. In the margins, mentioned stories of Hermes, the greek god of messengers, and his determination to give Athena a gift only she would love. A museum, a collection of knowledge and art and all things for advancements, was the gift he chose. Elated, she felt as though she must return his favor. In return, she crafted a vault, full of ancient, first edition books, original works of literature, original blueprints of architecture, and knowledge beyond the capacity any mere person could behold. A sphere shaped room, only accessible by key and extreme crafty work, could this vault be accessed. The key, the Heart of Hermes: alexandrite, the gemstone of Hermes himself. A dazzling green and purple gem, crafted into the shape of a heart. Over the eons of time, this gem has been lost, found, and lost again, without any real knowledge of what it belongs to. Now, there was a place for it: the hidden room in the Museum of Minerva, a place sealed away with endless pools of information. Were you meant to find it? Obviously. There were two things that you needed in order to safely and accurately carry out your plan: the architectural blueprints of the Museum of Minerva and the gem. The main point was, where would this gem be? You’d done extensive research over the past few days, looking into various museums, online archives and the like, doing your best to discover where it could be, hidden somewhere in the world. So far, nothing had come up in regards to your precious Heart of Hermes, but some information on where you could obtain the blueprints for the Museum. Of course, these were in the museum itself, in the archives of the Museum itself. The archives seemed to be in the basement area of the Museum, where they kept seasonal pieces, or other artifacts for exhibits in rotation. This would be your target for your next mission, the blueprints.

Upon reaching halfway to your hotel, you passed by a restaurant popular to high status mafia men in the area. Occasionally you would see them there, but you’d seen them there more often as the days had passed, and you’d begun to suspect that there was some interesting information floating about the area. Of course, as fools go, mafia men always spoke about things in public settings as to seem innocent, or as if they belong in the area. Slowing down your pace, you came to a leisurely walk, absently checking your phone as you did so. Two men were seated in front of the restaurant, casually smoking and talking about upcoming events. As you passed, a snippet of conversation was picked up.

“Will you be present at the auction?”, one asked, tapping his cigarette

“After that massacre 4 years ago?”, the other hissed in response, “not fuckin’ likely. It’s at the same place too. Ridiculous.”

“Well, some upscale museum in Mimbo Republic is auctionin’ off some gems. You know your wife likes those. Maybe she’ll forgive you if you picked it up” the first one stated, chuckling into his drink.

He received a glare in response, and you’d walked off, mulling over the new found information.

The auction in question, in regards to the massacre, was a mafia supported auction in Yorknew City; annually inviting mafia members to show off their wealth by bidding for strange and expensive items from around the world. It only made sense that a precious gem could be found in such a place, and even more interesting that an upscale museum would be placing some items there as well. There are only so many assumptions to make, really. The Museum of Minerva was as upscale and high regard as one could imagine. Precious gems, from aforementioned museums as well? The chances of it being the Heart of Hermes was favorably high. This information, coupled with a plan you were actively forming in your head, you were about to get this party started. You finally made your way to your hotel room, and once you got settled into your room, you checked for the next day's weather, seeing as you had a museum to visit tomorrow.

A lovely red shirt, with some black leather pants and black boots to match. Opening your duffle bag, you pulled out a set of small steel balls that you’d need for your little plan. These small balls were rollers: tiny cameras that can fit within vents and drains, so you wouldn’t have the potential of being caught somewhere you shouldn’t be, like snooping in no access zones. Putting them in your pocket, you made your way out of your hotel and on your way to the Minerva Museum. The Minerva Museum, a stunning sight indeed. Staggeringly tall as it was also wide, it put many other well known museums to shame. Classic ionic greek architecture, sleek as it was, the pillars being made of stark white marble with wisps of gray in them. The museum was meant to resemble the awe inspiring image of Olympus Temple, but in a calmer sense; without all the wild, godly glory. The warm air caressed your cheek gently as you climbed the steps of the museum, letting the cool air contrast in your presence as you entered under the marble archway and into the building. Standing in the archway, you put your hand in your pocket, touching the rollers. Grabbing your phone, you made sure the camera feature and video were connected before proceeding inside. Now, to start your little matter of getting to where you needed to be: the basement. Clearly, access to the basement would only be allowed for staff, so getting in there would be a little tricky if left to your own devices. Walking towards the Roman History section of the museum after paying a gratitude to the museum, you looked up at signs, passed by doors and security gates, looking for telltale signs of basement access. You went down a flight of stairs and continued walking. Upon passing by a door, you noticed the keycard scanners and smiled just a little bit. Pretty basic security for such a high regard museum. Taking a greater note, all those that were staff not only had a keycard on a lanyard around their neck, but one clipped to their back pocket. Passing by a small group of 4 staff members as you rounded the corner, you pushed through the crowd, receiving a glare or two from the staff members, to which you shrugged in response. They walked off, and so did you, having slipped two keycards off the back pocket off the staff. Exiting the Roman History section, you traveled down another small flight of stairs, and you walked through to the French Art exhibit, and a door caught your eye: STAFF ONLY: FLRS B TO F written in bold on the door. Staff passed in and out of the door via keycard, and you took note to the exhibit you were in, and where the door was. You walked off, a little slower this time, actually thinking about admiring the art. Now, walking some ways away for about 20 minutes, you went up a flight of stairs. As you walked by, you passed by a man, and his aura was quite…menacing, in a way. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught slight features of him; steely grey eyes and a gentle but attractive face. Dark hair, and a soft green bandana over his forehead. Interesting choice in fashion, but you weren’t one to judge. You could also see that you had caught his attention, and he was stealing a look at you as well, but you slowly turned your gaze to the art you were passing by.

Upon leaving the museum through the back exit, you were now in the gardens of the museum. You scanned the area for vents along the ground or middle of the wall. Upon seeing a vent, you walked by it, pulling out your phone and casually dropping the rollers onto the ground and willing them to move into the vent. Opening up the camera system on your phone, you played a bit of a remote control game, using your nen to control the rollers in the vent. Forward a bit, but too far was a dead end. You brought them back, nearly to where you’d made them enter and went forward again. You noticed a bend in the vent going left, and you took the corner and after a good 10 minutes or so, you were now approaching another vent. Letting the balls slip through the slits in the grate, you rotated the rollers, and had to keep yourself from gasping too loud. The cameras showed that you were now in a staff area, given away by the door in the distance: STAFF ONLY: FLRS B TO F but now backwards, but this is where you were surely supposed to be, and this is where you should be later tonight. Calling back the rollers, you pretend to fix your boot as you scoop them up and put them back in your pocket. At this point, you’d seen whatever you needed to see and you made your way home once more. As you were leaving, that menacing aura was in your presence, and you scanned the area for that gray eyed man again. There he was, out of the corner of your eye once more, stealing a look at you. You rolled your eyes and hurried back to your hotel.

Around 3am, you found yourself in the trees behind the Minerva Museum. You were dressed in all black, cliche for committing crimes but it of course has its merits. You sat in a tree in the gardens behind the Museum of Minerva, checking over your pockets and equipment. The plan would be excruciatingly simple: get in, get to the basement, and get out. Simple plan, yes. Simple because you alone knew what else should and shouldn’t be done in the moment, based on instinct and common sense alone. One should never overcomplicate, or over plan a plan, lest they drive themselves insane with too many plot points to follow. Of course, plans were so simple if one was working alone; having to create an in depth plan for upwards of 3 people was always a hassle, trying to figure out who goes where and who does what and what one does if they’re seen. It all really becomes too much. Most could look at you and say “ah, I bet you work alone because of a tragic, tragic backstory where you lost a member of your team!” which is quite incorrect. People are irritating, and you’re much too lazy to create a plan for more than 2 people, and lazier still to create a detailed plan, seeing as your plan right now has three whole steps just for yourself. The other point is that you were relatively smart, and you didn’t have other people constantly quipping about other ideas. One idea, full throttle. But you digress, checking to make sure the capsules for the blueprints opened and sealed properly. Patting your belt, you made sure the proper knife set was on your person: a set of tungsten knuckles (you could say brass, but tungsten is a beautiful name, and they were in fact made of tungsten) with blades between the thick metal, so they retracted like quite the handy switch blade. You never carried guns, mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to buy a silencer, and if you were ever involved in a situation where you literally brought a knife to a gun fight, you could take care of said bullets easily. You also carried rope, twine, an air mask and a gas mask. Air and gas masks are not the same, contrary to some belief. The air mask was a mini air tank/capsule, perfect for diving or breaking into air sealed areas. They allowed you 15 minutes of air, enough time for you to get into the basement vault, take the blueprints, and hop right back out. Always one with simple, three step plans, eh. Feeling satisfied with your materials check, you hopped down from the tree, and made your way to a small vent in the wall close to the ground. Unscrewing the bolts that held it in place, you removed the metal grate and slipped into the vent, pulling the metal grate back over the hole, although not fastened. Inconvenient as it was, you were backwards in the vent, but that was fine. Scooting backwards for a minute or two, you reached a bend in the vent and scooted back some more so you could turn into the bend in the vent. Crawling down the vent, you knew where you were based on your previous venture of exploring the vents with your rollers. You crawled around in the vent for a little longer, you saw the end of the vent, and managed to cut your way through it this time with a cutter, seeing as you couldn't unscrew it this time. Crawling out, you stood up and studied your surroundings, remembering exactly where you are: you were in the corner in the staff only hallway, with all the staff only areas like the restoration rooms and paths to the basement. There was a bend to your right standing in the hallway, the path you were supposed to take in order to pass by. You’d also remembered the type of metal that the camera’s were, so putting your hands up at your sides, stretching them outwards and sideways, while also causing the iron cameras to tilt so you could pass unseen. Walking down your selected path, you lifted your hand once again to force the camera to turn again as you passed under it, still remaining unseen. You rummaged around for the keycard you’d stolen off an art courier in your previous venture and you approached the basement door. The basement door was kinda pathetic, seeing as it was a simple keycard based door, but no matter, you swiped the card and entered, taking care to turn the cameras as you passed under them as before. Walking down a set of stairs, you were now standing in a small hallway, full of shelves and books, and glass cases filled with artifacts. As wonderful as everything looked, you turned to your left and walked down a corridor, towards a separate room with a glass wall: the special archives of the museum. You didn’t have an access card for that room, but the vent on the outside of the wall to the left led to the inside of the room, so your best bet was the vent. The ‘exit’ of the vent, inside the room, was on the ceiling, hence your need for a rope. Making your way to the vent, you unscrewed the bolts holding it to the wall and crawled in. Now being at the bend in the vent that turned it upwards, you stood up stretched a little. Pressing your foot on the left side of the vent, you stretched your arms up to either side of the vent. Using your other vent, you held yourself a bit of a tricky suspension, and moved your legs up slowly, in an awkward climb. Reaching the top and crawling over the bend into the higher area, you cut the metal grate for the ceiling vent. Opening it wide enough for you to fit, you tied a rope to your waist. Shoving the anchor of the other end of the rope into the top of the vent, you tugged at it gently to check its security. Pulling out your air mask, you secured it to your face, and turned it on, and took a few breaths to make sure it was functional. You let yourself down into the glass room slowly, looking around. Reaching the floor, you untied yourself and shuffled around quickly, looking for blueprints. They were labeled, alphabetically, so you searched around till you found the M section. rummaging through the rolled up papers, you grabbed one and unraveled it. Not it. Rolling it back, you proceeded to pick up 5 more, unraveling each on and inspecting them. 10 minutes of air left, by your rough count. Picking up a dusty looking piece rolled up paper, you carefully unraveled and nearly screeched in excitement: this was it, the blueprints of the Minerva Museum. Rolling it back up, you tucked it under your arm, and continued looking. Why continue looking? You had what you needed, did you not? No, there had to be at least some hint as to the layout of the spherical room, the Athenaeum of Totality, somewhere in this vault. Crouching down, you pushed papers aside, seeing as there was a small wrapped up paper behind countless others. Pulling it out, you felt a little proud, seeing as you got exactly what you were looking for. A small scroll like paper, with greek lettering decorating the outside of the paper. Unraveling it, you scanned it for tell tale phrases of the Athenaeum. 5 minutes of oxygen left. At this point, you had no time to have a lovely read of your findings. Shoving the scrolls in the tube, you scrambled over to the rope and climbed back up, with a few minutes of air left. Detaching the rope, you made your way back through the vent, fixing up any metal damage you made with your nen.

You went back the way you came in, and in a matter of 20 minutes, you were outside and on your way home.

Upon reaching your room, you unraveled the blueprints, studying the layout of the Minerva Museum, conceptualizing the architecture in 3D and how you should approach your goal. The blueprints with the greek writing had indeed been architectural proof of the Athenaeum of Totality, although slightly damaged. You looked at the blueprints while remembering the small conversation between the mafia men from before. Being lost in thought, your mind wandered to that man you’d seen twice today; his eyes full of some sort of knowing, like the Mona Lisa’s famed aura was somehow in him too. Waving your hand dismissively as if to shoo him away from your thoughts, you grabbed your laptop and scanned the internet for the best prices for a ticket to Yorknew City. You. y/n l/n, had an auction to attend. The only issue would be finding a nice outfit to wear… that was always the hardest part of these sorts of things.

#anime #anime headcanons #anime fluff #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter headcanon #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter fluff #hxh #hxh headcanons #hxh x y/n #hxh imagines #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo headcanons #chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo fluff #Heart of Hermes #Heart of Hermes HxH Fic

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infraaa · 4 years ago

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I HAD A FUCKING EXPLOSION THE OTHER DAY—

So if you follow me you know that sometimes I make Royal Chaos content. If you’re also a history geek like me you’d know that most of the heroes from RC if not all are based off of real people.

Six out of eight of the most beautiful people of Chinese history are in the game, being Pan’An, Song Yu, Prince Gao, who is also known as Lanling Wang for the men, and Diaochan, Zhaojun, and Yuhuan for the women.

The other two are missing: Wei Jie and Xi Shi.

But good news for you all because after some digging I found them. And they are SO CUTE! We need to make a petition for RC to put these characters into the game! I can DEFINITELY see the four most beautiful men and women having a connection with one another, like little hubs! 😫 But I know what you’re thinking now, maybe some of you. Royal Chaos shouldn’t take from other games! Oh, but my dearest reader, you do know that some of Royal Chaos’s characters are in different games too, right? It wouldn’t be “taking from,” now if they just stole the concept than yes it would be. It’s not like Sega took Mario and co for the Olympic Games, and Vice versa. It’s kind of like that in a sense. ☺️

So, with no further adieu, I bring to you...

✨Headcanons on what class they’d be in and what they can do, as well as background information!✨

Disclaimer: I’m terribly sorry if I spell any of this wrong, Chinese is not my first language and it’s hard to spell out in English. Also, tw // war and suicide mentions, as well as descriptions of murder and violence, just in case...

This is Xi Shi.

Her clothes actually remind me a lot of Diaochan’s with the colors, as well as the moon in the back, as per history, Diaochan was so beautiful the moon would shy away when being compared to her. Xi Shi on the other hand, was believed to be so beautiful that when fish would see her as they swam by, they would forget how to swim and sink to the bottom of whatever body of water they were swimming in. (Beauty can really kill huh?) Out of the four most beautiful women in ancient China, she was considered to be the first.

Her Background and Biography

Xi Shi was born in 506 BC on the nineteenth of July in China’s Zhejiang Province in a small village called Xi Cun, or “West Village.” Because a lot of people that lived there had “Shi” as a last name, and because she was born in the west, she was referred to as Xi Shi. She was born into a pretty ordinary household. Her father sold firewood for a living and her mother did silkwork. Ever since she was little, she would go out to this river to wash the silk that her mother had made. She lived during the Spring and Autumn Period, and within that time, China wasn’t a “whole country,” it was made up of several kingdoms fighting against each other. Xi Shi is from the state of Yue, which had been vanquished by the state of Wu. After that the Emperor of Yue, Gou Jian, was forced to serve the Emperor of Wu, Fu Chai, for three years. Gou Jian then thought of a plan to defeat the Wu State and take power back. He knew that the Fu Chai was a sucker for pretty women, and he also knew that if Fu Chai was surrounded with beautiful women, he would be too distracted to work for his state. But for this plan to work, Gou Jian needed to find a woman that had stunning beauty that was willing to sacrifice herself for the better of the country. Gou Jian found Xi Shi and he picked her. He then asked his minister, Fan Li, to take Xi Shi to Fu Chai as a tribute gift from Yue. On the way however, she fell in love with him, as he was wise and kind. He reciprocated her feelings in turn. Now, they could have escaped this plan and thwarted it but they were both loyal to their country. So, they made a pledge of their undying love for one another in secret. When she was brought before Fu Chai, he was indeed entranced by her, spending more and more time with her, neglecting his duties. After some time, he realized that he should not have been bewitched by her, as the Yue Stare had become more powerful due to his neglectful behavior. Gou Jian had invaded the state of Wu and forced Fu Chai to commit suicide. When this happened, Xi Shi’s mission was complete. The ending that I choose to believe is that she reunited with Fan Li and she lived on with him after he quit his job as a minister. The other ending is really grim...

Her Class and Quality

Xi Shi could definitely be a scholar, an AOE especially. I can imagine that she could do something similar to that of Diaochan, despite her being a medic. She could impact the opposing formations’ abilities to put damage on the formation shes defending using a debuff, much like Daji can do. I can see her being a Defense Hero and possibly having strength in Control for all these reasons, as well as real history, helping her state in the face of despair. She could be considered as a fabled hero, but could also be an epic hero considering the bloat of the fabled class making up mostly half of the hero cast as a whole.

Her Possible Abilities

Chant of Heroism

She can attack anywhere from 4 to 8 times descending on CRIT, dealing 60%+164 DMG to a random front enemy with each hit, lasting one round. Until three layers are tagged, the enemy will lose anywhere from 15 to 25 HP, decreasing DEF by 4%.

Promising Honor

50:50 chance of tagging a back or front target. Allies then force attention to the front if the tag is in the back, dealing 5% more damage. This tag cannot be dispelled for two rounds.

Her Preferred Gems and Treasure

Gems: DEF, ATK, ACC

Treasure: Primarily something with a DEF bonus, so the lamps, each one activating her Destiny ability. However, any other treasure that offers an ATK or RES bonus is also good.

Her Occupation

I can imagine her working in the Ministry of Defense as a General, much like Wen Ruyan. For her other occupation, she could be a poet of some kind, probably a primary or mid poet, something like that, or she could be a primary chess sage.

Hero Compatibility

She could work with other scholars that can do some damage, namely Song Yu and Ying Zheng. She could also work with medics depending on their skill set. Diaochan would be a prime choice.

~~~~

The guy on the right is Wei Jie.

Look at that cat! (´⊙ω⊙`) But for real, this poor guy. He reminds me of the “gentle giant” archetype. Not just because of his looks, no, he’s actually ill with some kind of disease. (I have a head canon that it’s AIDS/HIV, but I don’t have a lot of evidence to support that right now. All I know is that his immune system is very weak to infection and he has respiratory problems and it’s just that he’s very weak overall...) Despite his health however, he’s actually compared to Jade, being like a jade doll. Jade is very valuable in China and is considered to be a very precious stone, especially in the eyes of aristocrats and royalty. Out of the four most handsome men in ancient China, he was considered as the fourth.

His Background and Biography

(I had to use multiple resources for this, I couldn’t find a lot of information on him, so I had to get creative. Sorry!)

Wei Jie, like Pan’An, also lived during the Xi Jin (Western Jin) Dynasty. He was born into a very wealthy household, and was recognized for his beauty alone at the age of five. His uncle, who also had extraordinary good looks, said that walking with his nephew was like “having a gleaming pearl at my side.” He had fans from far and wide, causing chaos and the forming of something along the lines of a twisted harem to form under his shadow. When Wei Jie grew up, this only got worse. Hoards of women would literally block the streets and chase after him because they all wanted him so badly, which this caused a lot of backlash onto his family. Because his family was aristocratic, they had to keep a sensible reputation. People were jealous of the Wei family because of the immense wealth and beauty that they all possessed. Luckily, Wei Jie couldn’t go out that often, as he doesn’t have a strong body, and has been ill since his infancy. He wasn’t allowed to go out during his childhood because of the fear that whatever ailment he had could spread. Because of this belief and the immense jealousy that others had, most of his family, with the exception of his father, fifth uncle, and cousin, were all murdered quite brutally. This lead him to be the young master of the Wei Manor. This pattern of not going out a lot and things continued on for some time. He would go out on occasion if he really needed something, and he didn’t necessarily like all the attention he brought to himself unknowingly. He grew easily overwhelmed by it and constantly sought to get away from the large groups of people that swarmed him. This anxiety and stress of attention exhausted him, and he actually passed from all that exhaustion. He was “watched to death,” as people said. Poor guy... he just wanted to be alone... let us introverts be!

His Class and Quality

Oh, he’s a medic, for sure. I know also that he was an imperial physician in the game I found him from, but he only worked on commission, if that makes sense, like if people actually wanted to be treated by him. He would kind of be like a better version of Shizhen. Very agile and quick, but also the more you get to him, his attack rate can slowly increase. I can see him being some kind of control hero. Back Support too, that would make sense. So control + support. He would be in Fabled Class, definitely. Props to him!

His Possible Abilities

Jade Solstice

Chanting a medical spell from his calabash gourd, he can stun a front line enemy for one round, lowering 20 rage. If a critical is achieved, they will turn chaotic and attack other members of their formation for one round, taking away 15% of the enemies overall DEF and then giving it to his other formation members.

Internal Grace

Shielding himself using the gourd’s energy, he gains 10% RES. Any rage prompted attack he makes will grant him 2% more ATK bonus points for one round, increasing the formation’s overall CRIT by 10%. This can be layered twice and cannot be dispelled or immune to.

His Preferred Gems and Treasure

Gems: HP, CRIT, ATK

Treasure: To increase damage while keeping DEF, use the stamps. However, any CRIT or ATK bonus treasure is good too, just as long as it buffs his accuracy as well!

His Occupation

This is where it got tricky. I would assume he would work alongside Pan’An in the Ministry of Rites where they would compose poems together. It’s just that since he can’t actually go out too much that’s where it gets a little complicated. He could probably act as some kind of moderator or something along those lines, something where he wouldn’t have to deal with people that much.

Hero Compatibility

He would need strong tanks to help him out. Prince Gao, Prince Jing, or even Xiang Yu would be good for him. He would also want heroes that would boost his abilities even more, gotta have that support, you know? Wu Zetian, Yuhuan, or Pan’An would be good choices.

~~~~

Now for the final part...

✨Connections✨

Xi Shi

I think they’re’s already a connection that has Zhaojun, Diaochan, and Yuhuan in it. I would take that and add Xi Shi into the connection, but also bring her attributes to the table, in summary. What I mean by that is take her attributes and summarize them into one. So her strongest asset would be the fact that she could be an AOE with a control bonus. She could add ACC and DEF to the table to help with your formation if activated.

Wei Jie

Just like the ladies, I know there’s already a connection with Pan’An, Song Yu, and Prince Gao in it. Same deal, take it, put him in it, and add his summarized ability. He could be a Medic with strength in CRIT. So, he could bring CRIT to the table, obviously, as well as extra ATK buffs if activated.

~~~~

To conclude, *coughs as if to clear throat* Xi Shi, Wei Jie. We need to add them. The quartets aren’t filled up yet. Wouldn’t it be a surprise for them to finally come together in gorgeous matrimony as the queens they are? All heroes are queens. Plain and simple, not matter how awful their skill sets may be at times. (We see you, Shizhen. You matter, even though his skill set isn’t the best he’s still kinda great 😅)

#royal chaos headcanons #royal chaos #fabled hero headcanons #headcanons #royal chaos theories #infrawrites #tw //

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annaofthenorthernlights · 4 years ago

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It´s your life

Chapter 2

First step…

Kristanna Modern AU

Rating: G

Word counting: 1833

Previous Chapter (AO3)

Summary: Kristoff takes Anna away off her studies – she´s a mess before exams…

Kristoff hastily pulled over to the road´s side.

Anna clung to his neck, nearly strangling him. He could hardly see the road. When he had stopped the engine, he turned and held the little mess in his arms.

Anna hung at his chest, sobbing, and laughing all the same. “Thank you, thank you.” She muttered, tangling her fingers in his hair, literally melting into his body.

“It´s okay, honey. You do deserve a good treat!” Kristoff nuzzled into her hair, pulling her tightly to him. She was such a precious pearl, and he hated the thought of her being in such a pressure of no reason for whatsoever.

Anna pulled a bit back and smiled up at him. “This is so awesome. I can´t believe you did this. You hate those places. Are you sure, you really want to launch into this fantasy world of fools?” She lowered her face, taking a deep breath, while a strange feeling spread in her abdomen. “You know,” she whispered, “it´s just a place of dreams and imagination. But that you would surprise me with this… I know it sounds stupid, but this means so much to me and makes me feel so… special…” The words trailed off and she just sank back into that strong chest.

“Hey princess.” Kristoff muttered back into her hair. “You´re most special, don´t you know that?”

Anna smiled and pulled on his shirt collar for affirmation. They would stay a bit longer like this, when Anna´s mobile startled them both, having them jolt out of that cosy position.

“Oh no. It´s Elsa.” Anna grimaced when she saw who was calling her. She took a deep breath and snitched her head to the side as to make herself relaxing, somehow.

“Hey there.” She tried to sound casually happy to have her sister on the phone. “What´s up?”

“Anna! Where are you?” Elsa´s demanded in a controlled but outraged tone.

“I´m with Kristoff. Why?”

“Why aren´t you at your home, studying?” Elsa sighed audibly. “I came to pick you up. How long will it take you to come here?”

“Why?... Oh no, don´t say it´s today… I thought it´s next weekend?” Anna turned pale and her heart sank into the lowest department.

“Yes! It is today and you better get your little head cleared and back home, now!” Elsa stated in a clear and not misunderstanding command. “Where are you? Tell Kristoff to bring you home, now.”

By now, Anna had turned the speakers on, so Kristoff could listen to the conversation. Elsa had noticed the change of the echoing sound and would address Kristoff now.

“Hey Kristoff. Listen. I´m sorry. Whatever you two were up to. Anna needs to get back to her flat immediately to get ready.”

“Hi there Elsa.” Kristoff greeted Anna´s sister formally, but kindly. “Just hang on, please, yes?” He turned to Anna, “what have you forgotten about… I mean, where were you supposed to go tonight?”

Anna was kind of panicking by now. Kristoff put a hand to her arm, trying to calm her down. She then tried to explain with a timid voice.

“It´s a dinner party at my grandfather´s house. He has invited some important people. A lawyer’s office, our family is collaborating with since decades, if not even centuries…. He wants me to meet them on a professional basis as to get a position at their office for the start. You know, like a start off into the famous world of “Rendelle” law business.

“Anna!” Elsa interrupted Anna´s explanation. “You can explain this to Kristoff on your way back. Please hurry and head back now. Kristoff, will you please take her home, now.”

There was a silence for a moment.

“Anna! Kristoff! Are you guys still there? Hello?”

Kristoff looked at Anna and increased his squeeze on her arm. “Anna! Whatever you want to do, it´s your decision and I will go the mile with you. Do you want this? Do you want to go to this dinner party? If yes, I turn the car and bring you back.”

Anna stared at him with big restless eyes. “I don´t know. I mean I know what I´m supposed to do. Bu I don´t know if I want this myself?”

“It´s your life, Anna!” Kristoff said, firmly, but kind and in his softest voice. “I actually wanted to talk to you over dinner, in a quieter situation. But now, you must decide. But, hey honey, whatever you decide, it´s okay for me. We can postpone this trip. I stand by you. Okay?”

“Hello there. You two. Stop this fussing around and nonsense talk. Get yourselves back here, now!” Elsa´s voice bounced through the car, ineffectively actually.

Anna stared at Kristoff, then at the mobile resting in her lowered hand, then back at Kristoff. “You mean that? I mean, you would not drop me like a hot coal if I´d asked you to bring me back?” Tears forming in her eyes, she breathed heavy, waiting for his affirmation in disbelief.

“Yes Anna. I mean it. I love you. And I want you to live your life. However, you see it to live. What´s my part in it, we will find out. But I want you to live your life, because it´s your life, and not the life of others, no matter who.” He had emphasised the last phrase. It was so important to him, that she would understand to live her life in her way.

Anna´s lips quivered, she chuckled, giggled and sobbed all in same. She would not take her eyes from Kristoff´s friendly look, while she lifted her hand and spoke into her mobile.

“Elsa. Please excuse me for tonight. Tell them I´m unavailable or something. I won't have Kristoff bringing me back. We're going to Disneyland!”

“An…” Elsa´s voice was turned off by Anna pushing the red button. She dropped the mobile and threw herself into the welcoming embrace, to embrace the edge into a new world.

**********

Elsa stared in disbelief onto her mobile. Anna had hung cut her off. Her little stubborn sister. Did she actually have a clue of what she was doing, of how she was just about to ruin her life, her career, her future? Elsa nearly shook with fury. How could she. How could she behave so childish, so foolishly, so senseless, like a dreaming idiot?

She turned to her car, to get back at the Arendelle estate, the home of the Rendelle family since two hundred years. How should she explain this to her grandfather…? Her parents would have understood, would have sat to reason over this. But her grandfather… Runeard Rendelle was a stern man, focused on family wealth and on representing their name. He was not particular mean in person, but business came before personal affairs. He was convinced that a good name, fortune and power in the upper classes would provide for good living and fulfilled life. His son, Agnarr, had followed the elder´s advices. Still, Elsa´s parents had lived family in a kind manner and taken care to teach their daughters to care for each other. But then, business had over throned all plans for family and personal matters.

A few years ago, Agnarr and Iduna Rendelle died in a car accident, and Elsa´s and Anna´s future lay completely in their grandfather´s hands.

Would Anna really take the risk and step out of the family´s tradition and run off with this half portion of a carpenter? Not that Kristoff Bjorgman was half a portion, physically spoken… But to the terms of Runeard Rendelle, a carpenter would not even deserve a nod of the head for acknowledgement´s sake. No college degree, no money, no well-known name…

Anna had never listened to the warnings. Apparently, she had set her mind to stick with the man. After all, he had helped her a lot. He had been a good friend to her when everyone else had frowned at her foolish situation she had manoeuvred herself in with Hans back three years ago.

Kristoff had never made efforts to befriend with the family, nor to make himself a name within their circle of friends. He liked it best to have Anna to himself in his surroundings. And Anna seemed to like it. She seemed to feel at ease with his family and friends.

Elsa had met Kristoff´s family once, being co-invited to a birthday party. They were kind and friendly. A bit weird in her opinion, but if Anna felt happy with them… Kristoff´s best friend Sven was a funny chap, with a sincere smile and jovial manner. The two men were about to establish their own business as partners. Elsa knew by Anna that they were working hard to accomplish their plan.

Elsa mused over this awkward situation, while driving into the carport next to the big house. She remained behind her steering wheel and a thought had pinned in her mind. ´Anna might have the courage to do the next right thing for herself. Had she not heard how Kristoff told her that it was her life and not the life of others? He had not pushed her, not been manipulating, just reassuring her to choose the next step for herself. For her own life. ´

Elsa stepped out of her car and made her way up the estate´s pathway to the great front door. She held her head high, like she would do when entering the family´s home. She braced herself to meet up with her grandfather…

**********

Anna leaned back in her seat, staring out in front of the window into the last sunrays that were sinking behind the horizon. The evening light was faded into a soft pink, mingled with soft blue strokes in the skyline, mixed along with silent hanging clouds, drifting in the spring wind.

“I can´t believe I´ve cut her off like that. Do you think she´ll be fine?”

“Anna. She´s the big girl and she´s not the one heading off to Disneyland. Your grandfather won’t decapitate her.” He tried to sound jovial, but Kristoff was not stupide and understood Anna´s concern. “Don´t worry, honey, I´m sure she will find a way to explain. And then, it´s your decision. I fear you will be the one who will have to deal with Runeard Rendelle yourself: But Anna. You´re not alone!”

Anna had turned her gaze towards him, tired now, but still feeling kind of free. After the decision had formed within her and then crawled up to her mind to finally being spoken out into the mobile, she had felt a weight falling from her, invisible but fully present. She placed a soft hand on Kristoff´s arm. He would pat it with his other hand, putting it then back onto the steering wheel.

“So, I took the first step out of my life.” Anna mused quietly.

Kristoff kept eyes on the road, but spoke softly, and reassuring. “No Anna. I´d say you took your first step into your life!”

#Kristanna fanfic #Modern AU #my fanfic #surprise trip #decision #love #Fanfiction

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samuel-dean · 4 years ago

Text

21 Questions

INVOLVED: Samuel Evans and Mercedes Jones LOCATION: Evans’ Estate; Irving, Texas TIME FRAME: - NOTES: Mercedes tries to pull Samuel away from work, which she’s successful at.

Samuel's office was French Country style to the core. The rich, deep woods, stone fireplace and stately furniture might seem dated to the untrained eye. To Mercedes, it symbolizes wealth on a scale that boggles the mind. This old world warmth of this decorating style was a show of wealth. But rarely was it a true depiction of its owner's temperament. Yet, it suited Samuel to the teeth. Mercedes entered, nuzzling at Nouvel’s soft oversized cheeks. She closed the door behind her and moved across the hand knotted, Persian rug. Smiling, she pointed at the man behind the desk. "Whose that?" She asked the baby, stealing another kiss. She switched the position of the baby in her arms as she prepared to hand her over to the man. “Busy?”

Samuel leaned against the desk gently, his hand holding up his head as he scrolled down the list of potential assistants. He blinked hard for a moment before he sat up seeing Mercedes, stretching he smirked and said “never too busy for you two” with a smile holding his hands out for their daughter.

Mercedes quirked an eyebrow. “So you say.” She said, gently putting the little girl in the man’s arms. She kissed the baby’s cheek once more, then stood admiring the pair for a moment. “You’ve been locked up in here for hours.” She sat on his desktop, crossing her legs at the ankles. “Is everything...” Her eyes shifted to her dangling feet and she tossed her head from side to side “Progressing as expected?”

Samuel hoisted the little girl up pecking her cheek lovingly, “you look so cute today” he cooed at the child as bounced her slightly. “10 billion” he said to Mercedes as he continued to hold the child up smiling at her. He rested the child in his lap and looked at her “it’ll work itself out” he offered. “I have to attend a memoriam” he added before he looked back down at the child stroking her plump cheeks gently.

Mercedes body jerked, shoulders rolling her into an upright position. She reviewed the list of the dead mentally, then factored for the man in front of her. It was to be expected, she supposed. She exhaled, but took little comfort from his words. Adding stress wasn’t her goal at the moment, she reminded herself. He was already under enough. “I know.” She said quietly reaching out she ran her hand across his beard. “Of course. When is it?”

“I have to get the set date and time” Samuel replied back to her “you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, however” he said still eyeing their child.

Mercedes turned her head, swapping her nails back through her hair. “If you have to plan the memoriam I can help." Her face went blank as a new canvas. “However?” Was he saying he didn’t want her to go or that she should? Her lips turned down, “I won’t say anything.” She offered trying to read his mind.

“No, I just have gotten the date or time, I guess they are still working on all of that. We settled out of court with a few of them. So, you know they have all gotten whatever money they seeked” he said sighing. He shifted the little girl gently “funerals have been paid for” he added as he toyed with the child’s head of hair. “It’s not that” he said shaking his head “you have the option baby, I am just saying you don’t if you don’t want to” he breathed softly. Hell he wished she could go in his place right now, as harsh as it sounded he wanted the shit to just blow over.

“Oh…” Mercedes laughed off her misunderstanding with a relieved sigh. She laced her fingers around her knee, swinging her legs back and forth. “I have options?” She said, playfully. She watched the pair with a loving smile on her face. “Thank you, but It’s fine. I think it's best I go." She said after a moment. Honestly, every higher up in the company should. ” She caught herself, hand darting up to her mouth as if she could recall the statement. She cleared her throat, glancing over the desktop “Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah, you always have options” Samuel smirked though he didn’t look at her directly. “You may be right about that” he told her honestly they were putting it all on him, but he assumed that is just what people like them would do. He looked at the computer screen, then at her “yeah” he said honestly, he’d never find someone that Mercedes liked and anyone she would he hated.

Mercedes giggled, “I’m going to remember that…” There was a tug to question him about what the board was doing. They all seemed surprisingly uninvolved. She didn’t, however. This was his thing, and she couldn’t risk overstepping. “What are you working on anyway.” She asked, getting to her feet. “I don’t want to pull you away from something important.”

Samuel held the little girl in his arm, pulling his long locs from her small hand, pushing his hair out of the way. “Looking for a new assistant” he told her cooly, she had to appreciate this sentiment, he was finally getting rid of Patty like she truly wanted him to.

Mercedes back stiffened, eyes darkening as Samuel words took hold. “Oh!” She squeaked 3 octaves higher than usual. Reaching for Nouvel. “Why?” She asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Because that’s what I thought you’d want me to do?” Samuel asked her, very confused, she took the baby and asked him a question he didn’t get. “Why’d you take her from me?” he asked without thought, was it a defense mechanism.

Mercedes handed the baby back to the man and stepped away from him abashed. “I… I wanted to show you something. That’s all. It’s in the other room.” She told him, pointing stiffly to the other side of the house. She hugged herself, unsure of what to say or do next.

Samuel looked at her “oh” he said “sorry” he added “I thought you were getting upset with me” he told her honestly. “Sorry” he told her again feeling bad now.

Mercedes dropped her arms, then rubbed her hands down her bare face. Baby steps, she thought. Twisting her lips and moving around the awkwardness that just transpired, she reached her hand out to him, wiggling, perfectly manicured nails. “Come on.” She said, a hint of sadness in her voice she couldn’t hide.

Samuel stood up, all six-foot seven inches of him and he gently hoisted their child up in his arms. Looking her over her grabbed Mercedes hand saying “okay” to her simply, though he was curious as to what was going on.

Mercedes pulled the large man along behind her. She bit her bottom lip as they exited his office, making their way to the opposite end of the sprawling mansion. Outside of the room she’d prepared for Samuel, stood Brent as instructed. He nodded kindly to the couple, “Mr. Evans.” He said, eyes going to Mercedes as he waited for instruction. “Take Nouvel to her room. She’s ready for a nap.” She told the man, still holding Samuel’s hand.

Samuel followed behind Mercedes, his eyebrow still raised at her but he didn’t say anything of course. When he saw Brent he puffed out his chest a bit, he still didn’t like the boy though he’d done nothing wrong and actually took really good care of their daughter. He handed the child over relectuntantly and said “Brent” in a gruff voice, he wanted to squint at him but didn’t. Instead he looked at Mercedes trying to figure out where she was going with this.

Brent accepted the child, who cooed and drooled as she went to her caregiver happily. “Have a nice evening.” He said, moving off down the hall, have an impossible conversation with the child. “I know you had fun with daddy and mommy. I know. What? You want your giraffe? Okay.. I guess.”

Mercedes exhaled before pushing the door open. Inside, the floor was covered with a white drop cloth. Three large tables formed a trapezoid-like triangle in the center of the room.

Draped, two were covered with paints of every hue and color. The third held brushes. Some were from Samuel's personal collection. Others were new. She also had them add sponges and rags to the assortment. Against the wall there were canvas of all sizes. Some, large as the wall itself, others smaller. She didn't know which he would prefer so she got all of them. “I thought you needed some time away from everything. Travel is off the table for the moment… Maybe this would be relaxing?” She said, gazing at everything, still questioning her idea.

As she opened the door Samuel looked around it, wow, that was not expected at all. He looked at her and then back to the art supplies, shocked a little. A big grin spread across his face, honestly he didn’t know when the last time he picked up a brush. “Wow” he said to her finally, he pulled her closer to his side “thank you” he said before he kissed her full lips. He pulled away and chuckled “wow” he said moving to the canvases.

Mercedes looked at the man, grinning as relief flooded through her body. She warmed, fingers slipping into his long, loose hair as he favored her with a kiss. As he moved away from her, she couldn't help but ask “You really like it?” She snapped her fingers, then pointed to the other side of the room. “There are clothes for you to change into over there.” She moved over to the table filled with paints, “I didn’t know what kind of medium you like to work with. So, I picked up oils, acrylics… Heck, I even got some body paint.” She laughed, going over the selection.

“I love it” Samuel told her truthfully “no one has ever done something like this for me before '' he said picking up a canvas. Which was a realization he had just made honestly. He looked where she pointed and nodded his head at her. At the mention of body paint he looked over at her, hiding his smirk he looked away from her and looked back at the canvases. “Thanks” he told her again as he moved towards the table “are you joining me?” he asked purposefully.

Mercedes shook her head, blushing. Her fiance was so modest and kind. And he lied so well. She didn’t deserve him. “It’s up to you. You strike me as a solitary creator.”

He looked at her and said “I want you to stay” lovingly, and he meant it. Maybe he could teach her, if she didn’t already know. She was like an onion she had so many layers he still hadn’t peeled back yet, and he knew that. “Hey, I might even be able to put that body paint to use if you do,” he said, setting up a few things for him to use.

“Your wish is my command.” Mercedes looked over the colors. “I haven’t painted since college. I wasn’t ever really good at it. Now, I mostly use color pencils and markers or SketchUp on the computer." She chuckled, looking over to the man, “You had me at stay, sir.” She told him, in response to his cheeky comment.

“Maybe I can teach you some techniques” Samuel said rolling up his sleeves, he could change but he didn’t care. Pricey shirt and pants or not, it was what it was. He chuckled at her “we will have fun” he told her as he rested his canvas on an easel. He really didn’t know what to paint honestly, he usually thought of a picture on concept.

“That could be fun.” Mercedes said, moving to stand beside Samuel. She stared at the blank canvas, turning her head this way and that. “Paint what you are feeling.” she said thoughtfully. “Complete expression with no bonds.” her eyes drifted to the large canvas resting against the wall. “I feel adventurous.” She said, stepping in front of the blank white canvas.

Looking away from the medium sized canvas, he looked at her before he chuckled “I should be telling you that” Samuel said. He contemplated what he wanted to paint for a very long time before he made up his mind. He grabbed a brush, using a small amount of brown paint to draw out the structure of her face.

Mercedes laughed, shoulders shaking. She turned away from the canvas and moved to the uncovered side of the room. Toying with the diamond band of her ring, she eased it off her finger and laid it on the shelf carefully. She then toed off her shoes and swapped out her top for the T-shirt Samuel was supposed to wear. She might as well not let it go to waste. Dressed, she moved back over to the table, smiling as she saw Samuel was already hard at work. She was quiet as she collected her paint, loving the way the silence between them felt natural.

Samuel looked over at Mercedes as she changed her top, generally he hadn’t looked over because of her doing so. He was really trying to take in her features if nothing else for his painting. He licked his lips as he drew subtle lines for her upper half, getting his starting blueprint down. Looking at her again, he moved to his phone and pulled up his camera roll. He'd just use photos of her he had in his phone for a reference, that would be far easier.

Mercedes collected her paints, hues of blue and moved back the gigantic canvas the 5 cans of paint on the floor in front of the large canvas, her desire was to add color to the canvas until her feelings drew themselves. Or until she made the color brown. Which was always a possibility. She opened the blue paint and dipped her brush. She made the first mark across the page an aggressive brush stroke of dark blue. Hmm, she thought, adding another stroke of color. What was she going to create?

Samuel propped his phone up where it was in his view and out of hers, her skillfully began to paint the woman’s features in, starting with her almond eyes, before he worked his way into creating her perfect button nose. He asked what compelled him, deciding he’d take this moment to learn more of her but he knew he’d have to be slick with it. “20 questions?” he asked her with a smirk. “Unless I’d be ruining your focus at the moment…”

Mercedes moved to the next shade of blue, periwinkle. She took another brush and swirled on the canvas, adding depth to her vision. “This isn’t concentrating, it's falling with style.” she told him, laughing, turning to wink at him. “Ask away…” She said, bending to pick up more dark blue paint..

Samuel smirked at her comment as he picked up various shades of brown, some yellow, even red. He used it to build her complexion as he began to sculpt out her cheeks a little. “What is a memory you keep going back to?” he asked her, as he eyed her eyes. He moved back to her left one, fixing it.

Mercedes brushed on a thick glob of paint. It roughed up the picture making peaks and valleys on the canvas. “The first Christmas after my mother left my sister’s father. My mother went out of her way to make up for what she thought was us lacking. She brought us matchy matchy pajamas, with little candy canes all over them." She giggled, recalling how they look like Christmas hams in those tight fitting sets. "Christmas Eve, we stayed up late and watched It's a Wonderful Life. Then on Christmas morning, there were 4 presents from ‘Santa’.” She said, stopping to look over her work. “My sister got a cabbage patch doll. And I got Legos. Fitting… We were just a regular family.” she smiled abandoning her project for a moment, she pushed away thoughts of her step father… “Same question.”

Samuel painted over her eyes he’d have to fix the symmetry later, instead he moved back to her nose. He shaded what needed to be and added light in other places before he moved to paint her lips. Making sure he painted her perfect cupid's bow accurately, before he looked over at her. So much sadness was there in regards to her family, he’d have to expand upon that one day. Accompany her at their gravesite, find old photos of them to frame, paint them even? He nodded his head at her response, as she stated that it was her turn and he had to now answer his own question. He grabbed another brush. “Hm…” he thought “when I had my surgery” he told her honestly. His eyes were fixed on the panting as he decided what color he wanted to paint her lips “I thought I was going to die, and time after that I wish I had…” he shrugged. “I guess in the end of it all, I was glad to not have been cancer stricken… but the other issue is just as draining” he said a bit harshly he assumed after it left him. He licked his lips as leaned down a bit deciding he’d mix a color up. Maybe plum. “What’s the biggest lesson life has taught you?”

Mercedes turned to listen to Samuel holding the paintbrush a little too close to the side of her cheek. His truth made her feel just that much worse for her actions at the press conference. She chewed on her lip. Then stopped. Spit it out. That little nervous tick was becoming an annoying habit. Her eyes shifted to the ring where it sat, perfect dazzling even from so far away.

“You’re outstanding at other things.” She said, raising an eyebrow. “May I ask, what you were like in bed before this…”

Samuel mixed a few colors together on a palette to get the shade of plum that he wanted to use on her lips before he began to paint in her lips. She asked him a question he didn’t quite understand and he looked up at her confused “huh?’ he asked her. “What do you mean?” he chuckled lightly at her.

Mercedes didn’t waver. “Don’t play with me.” She told him, hands going to her ample hips. “You’re this." She said, gesturing towards him like Vanna White. "But you're something else entirely, in our bedroom. Have you always been so... Aggressive?” She smiled, biting her lip again.

Samuel stopped and looked at her again, he dropped the brush from the painting. He licked his lips and sighed, sitting the palette down against the table. “I guess so…” he said to her, blushing a bit at the statement. “I hadn’t really thought about it I guess….” he told her as he moved to paint in her lips more quietly.

“OH…” Mercedes purred, hand moving to rest low on her stomach. She eyed the man, going from one end of him to the other. “I may need to rethink the idea that I can’t be broken.” She shivered at the thought of him, but couldn’t decide if it was fear or want. “Let me see.." She said, pulling her eyes away from him. "You asked about the lessons I have learned. She went back to her painting. Taking a few strokes with the brush, she mulled her answer over for a moment, then said, “Basically, I've learned endurance is everything. That -and sometimes bad things do happen to good people.”

Samuel cleaned off his paint brush a bit and picked out another color he wanted to use to add more dimension and detailing in her lips. He looked up at her again and shook his head at her antics before looking back down. He didn’t really have a response for her though he felt like she was being quite amusing at the moment. “Mhm” he nodded at her as he guided the tiny brush with subtle strokes.

“I thought you were going to give me some pointers?” Mercedes said standing back again. “What do you think?” She asked, tapping her chin.

Samuel looked up at her again and sat his paintbrush down before he moved over to her. He looked at the canvas and smirked “not bad” he told her “you picked a huge one didn’t you” he said as he continued to look at it.

Mercedes shifted her weight from side to side, as she tried to decide if she liked her work or not. She felt Samuel approach, and move to the right to give him the best view of her artwork. 4 “It seems to be an ongoing trend.” She said winking at the man. “I was going for water, -waves… Is that what you are getting?”

Samuel looked at the side of her face before he looked back at the painting. “Yes, I see it” he told her with a head nod tilting his head a little “I like it” he complimented. He figured that was the look she was going for when he first saw it.

“You’re being kind. I’ll take it for the moment.” Mercedes went to her tiptoes and tugged at his collar, bringing him down to her height. She claimed her kiss softly, but released him a moment later. “My next question is… Who was your role model growing up?” She asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

Samuel kissed her back tenderly pulling away only when she did, “I am telling you the truth, I don’t know why you don’t ever believe me?” he asked her as he moved back to his current work. “Hm, my grandmother and grandfather, you’ll have to meet her sometime. My grandfather is no longer with us” he spoke. “She was always picture perfect to me… “ he breathed.

“Because you’re not being entirely truthful.” she shrugged. “It’s okay. I think i need to lighten the sky a bit.” Mercedes began pouring gray paint into the navy. She looked over to Samuel. “I’d like to. But I’m not sure. What if she doesn’t like me?”

“My grandmother isn’t like that” Samuel said honestly to her “she’ll love you simply for loving me” he told her. “What do you wish you could re-live?”

“Then I’d love to meet her. The next time you’re free we should go.” She finished mixing the paint, and moved to get another brush. “My first trip to Hawaii. I should have loved to stay longer " She responded matter of fact. “What makes you truly happy. Besides our child.” She said turn her brush on him challengingly.

“Of course, no problem” Samuel said to her as he switched to another brush adding more detailing as he moved back to repaint her eyes. He looked down at his phone for a moment before he looked up quickly at her “huh?” he asked her, confused. Maybe she meant a time before there’s. “What do you mean?” he asked her, needing understanding. Her question had an obvious answer but he reminded himself of who he was dealing with and said “you” to her. “And before you say it, I said what I meant and meant what I said” to her easily.

Mercedes giggled. “It was a beautiful island. I didn’t get to spend nearly enough time there.” She went on playing dumb. At his second response she rolled her eyes, dropping her arm. She should have known. She thought, pursing her full lips into a hard pucker. “I meant besides 'ME 'and Nouvel. What else? What makes you want to get out of bed?”

Samuel formed her cheeks, high and plump on the canvas, adding some shade and lighting. “I will take you back no worries” he told her, assuming he had to read between her lines. “Hm” Samuel said chuckling at her a little “I don’t know” he shrugged “life is a gift within itself” he said. “We are lucky to get up and experience another 24 hours with the people we love those most…” he told her simply. “I guess my short answer is the ability to do it all over again and choose different options and adventures.”

“You better. This time I’d like to at least pack a bag.” Mercedes snorted. She sat on the floor in front of her work and added in more white capped waves. “I’ve never thought of life quite like that before. Tell me something you like to do that you haven't yet.”

Samuel looked at her and nodded his head with a smirk “yes, I will allow you to do that” he told her before he sat his brush done. “I would really truly love to get married, to the love of my life” he said matter-of-factly. “However…” he trailed off.

Mercedes stiffened, caught off guard. “I’ve been thinking about that… Do you think it’s the right time for us to plan a wedding; Honestly, we haven’t even set a date yet..” She rambled. “-Big wedding -Or small. I don’t even know where to start.” She gathered herself, looking to the man, “Let’s set a date.” She said calmly.

“You know,” Samuel said, trying to gather his thoughts as he listened to her ramble. “We can’t put things off because of Exxon” he told her honestly “our lives have to still go on” he said. “Beyond that, if you need help we can pay for a planner to assist you” he said. “I thought when you get married your future wife puts all of her wildest dreams into one celebration and I just show up and pay” he chuckled. “Look handsome in my suit or tux” he said as he looked at the paint selections. “Let’s set a date” he repeated to her calmly, a smirk on his face. “You aren’t chickening out are you?” he asked next.

Mercedes nodded. Samuel was right, “I know… I worry that they will label me disrespectful and that will embarrass you somehow.” she shook her head, “No, I can handle it.” she tried to smile, actually she’d never dreamed of being a bride. So those plans had never entered her mind. “Tell me what you want.” She asked, wrapping her arms around her knees. “No, I'm not trying to back out. My sister was the kids and wife one. I was the work and take care of everybody one. I don’t really have a dream wedding in mind. Anyway, let’s set a date. April or June?

“Look, you and I don’t owe anyone anything. And no I would not get angry over that because again, life will still have to proceed. But if you think we should be focusing on that right now that is fine too babe” he said softly. “I want what you want babe” he stressed to her. He began to paint once more, one hand on his hip. “You are whatever you answer to, not what people label you” he told her “you don’t think you are the wife and mother material. However we have a beautiful child and I want you to be my wife so… in actuality you and your sister both are the married with kids one” he said. “February 14th” he said to her.

Mercedes closed her eyes and listened to Samuel. He ministered to her in that all to calm manner that he’d perfected. A benevolence she’d often wondered if he was born with. “I agree. I’m still concerned, but I agree.” Opening her eyes, she rose and walked over to him. “Oh… And if I’d say let’s go to the court house. You’d be okay with that too?” She asked Stepping in front of him. Her hands ran over his stomach, then stopped holding both sides of his shirt at his waist. “February 14th of next year sounds perfect. I’m going to marry you! Mr. Evans!”

“Stop being concerned” Samuel said to her simply, “I know it’s in your nature but...it doesn’t fix anything” he warned. “I wouldn’t deny you a courthouse wedding. It’s you and I right? That’s all that matters” he told him, swiping the brush against the canvas. She moved in front of him and stopped his task looking down at her “next year then” he told her as he leaned down to capture her lips sweetly. “Pinky promise” he said with a smirk lifting his pinky up at her.

Mercedes looked up at Samuel, through her lashes. Her big hazel eyes innocent. She bit her bottom lip a sly smile on her face. “Yes, sir.” She said quietly, the sly smile, giving way to a whole grin. She laughed, head shaking. “No… I don’t think the court house will do.” Air was a trivial thing. Especially, if the alternative meant not kissing Samuel. He broke the kiss, then asked for another kind of promise. Locking her pinky around his, she giggled and kissed his larger digit. “Promise.” She turned to look at the masterpiece he’d been working on. Paint still wet, the woman taking shape looked like her, but was far more beautiful. She covered her mouth with a trembling and leaned into Samuel's frame, as tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. “It’s beautiful.” She said not because it was her, but because she knew this was how he saw her. Suddenly a year felt too far away.

Samuel looked at her and nodded his head gently as she swore to him. “I love you” he told her before she turned to take in his painting. “You looked too soon” he said with a slight chuckle before he looked at her face again “don’t cry” he said as he hugged her tightly to him. “Thank you” he said to her lovingly as he held her close to him.

#thread: 21 questions #thread.#samcedes rp

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 4 years ago

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Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

The Fame of Solomon

Solomon's fame spread widely. Everywhere flew the stories of the splendors of his kingdom, and his great wisdom. It was not the fame of his piety and godliness that men heard, his generosity and kindness, his courage and heroism. His fame was rather that of the material splendor of his reign, than of fine personal and moral qualities. He sought to do brilliant things.

We are not to understand that Solomon did not contribute in any way to the good of his kingdom, that all his work was sensational. He did a great deal that was substantial. He gave his people a place among the nations which they had never dreamed of attaining. He made Jerusalem a great city in its beauty, its wealth, its brilliance. His wisdom, too, became famous. Wonderful stories of it were told near and far. From other countries, people came to see Solomon and his great buildings, and to hear his words, and to pay homage to him.

Of all his visitors, the queen of Sheba seems to have made the greatest impression. She was a much more important personage than the kings and princes of the near-by tribes or nations who came to see Solomon. She came from afar, from "the ends of the earth." She came in great state with a majestic splendor that excited much attention. She had heard the strange stories about the Israelitish king, and came to see for herself what foundation there was for them. "I wonder if these reports are true?" she began to ask. She would go and see for herself. The distance was great - but her curiosity and eagerness overcame all thought of the hardship of the journey.

Jesus taught us one use to make of this story, "Behold, one greater than Solomon is here!" He said, referring to Himself. In every way He was greater than Solomon. He was the eternal Son of God, Solomon's Lord. His wisdom infinitely surpassed Solomon's. Proverbs and Ecclesiastes are attributed to Solomon. There is a great deal that is practical in these books. Proverbs contain much that is helpful in common life. But the wisdom of Christ's teachings far surpasses the best that Solomon ever spoke! Christ's ability to enlighten and help excelled Solomon's, as divinity excels humanity. If, then, one woman came so far, at such cost, to see Solomon and hear his wisdom - the whole world should come to see and hear Jesus!

We have ever fresh illustrations of the same lesson. In every age, in every country, there are men and subjects who attract attention and draw people from far and near - to see and study them. Yet all the while, there stands One among us whom many men know not, nor desire to know - who surpasses in interest and wisdom - all the objects of attraction in the world. People throng to see and hear the scientist, the novelist, the explorer, the discoverer, the orator, or the singer - but only a sparse few gather about the blessed Divine Teacher! Men are interested in the questions of the day, in politics, in railroads, in inventions; but how few sit down to study the profound and eternal truths of Christ's redemption! They think these things suited only to children and women, and to the old and the dying, forgetting that they are the things which the "angels desire to look into."

The queen of Sheba came with "spices, and very much gold, and precious stones." Solomon need not in every sense be regarded as a type of Christ - yet this visit of the queen furnishes an illustration of the way we should come to Christ our King. We should bring presents to Him.

A tourist in Southern California tells of looking with much admiration at the wonderful flowers which grew about a fine residence. The lady of the house, seeing the visitors, came out and spoke to them very cordially, asking them questions about their home and their tour. Then taking a pair of scissors, she snipped off a fine handful of flowers, which she gave them. They noticed, however, that the flowers she cut were all past ripe, and when they turned away they gently shook the bouquet, and the petals nearly all fell to the ground.

That is the kind of gifts too many give to Christ. But we dishonor Him when we bring Him our fading flowers. This queen did not give trifles of little value - but the richest things she could find in all her kingdom. We should bring to Christ not the poorest and least things we can find - but the best - the most precious hours of our time, the finest gold of our youth, the sweetest fragrance of our heart's love. Nothing less than the best - is worthy of Him. Thus the wise men when they came from the Far East, brought their treasures and laid them at the feet of the new-born King. Thus Mary brought her alabaster box of precious nard, broke the box, and poured the ointment on the head and feet of her Lord. So should we all do.

The queen of Sheba brought spices, gold, and precious stones as a present to Solomon, and "behold, one greater than Solomon is here!" Solomon was rich and did not need the queen's gifts - yet he accepted them. Christ is infinitely rich; He owns all things, the gold of the mines, all the gems of the world. Yet He gladly accepts our smallest gifts. Even the poorest things, if they are our best, and if given with love - He will receive with joyful acceptance. The widow's two mites - He takes from the offerer's thin, wasted hand, with blessed words of recognition.

A gentleman worth millions accepted a bunch of withered flowers from a ragged child in a mission Sunday-school, and could not have manifested more real pleasure, if he had received from a jeweled hand the choicest flowers from the florist. Thus our blessed Divine Lord accepts our poorest gifts - if they are prompted by true love for Him and are indeed the best we can bring. He wants our best, however, and is worthy of our best. The queen brought spices and much gold and precious stones to King Solomon. We should bring to Christ - the sweetest fragrance of our heart's love and the richest jewels of our life!

The queen of Sheba brought to Solomon all her questions, her problems - and he answered them all. "She came to Solomon and talked with him about all that she had on her mind. Solomon answered all her questions; nothing was too hard for the king to explain to her." She seems to have had many questions to ask the wise king. Some of them may have been mere silly puzzles with which she sought to test his wisdom; others of them may have been real questions, concerning which she wanted answers. To every question she asked, Solomon gave her patient and satisfying answer.

We should learn to take all our questions - to our Heavenly King. No matter what it is that troubles or perplexes us, whatever we cannot understand, we should carry it to Him. Nothing can be too small, and nothing too great - to lay before Him, for He condescends to our least affairs and has wisdom for the greatest. Perhaps we are too formal and restrained in our secret prayers. It is better that we should break away from all forms - and just talk to God as a child talks to its father or mother, telling Him everything that is on our mind or heart, all our worries, our needs, our temptations, the things that vex and try us, the matters that are mysterious to us and hard to be understood, the questions that arise in our reading and conversation and thinking. In a word, we should commune with Him of all that is in our heart - and take His counsel about everything.

Then He will always answer all our questions. Ho will do this in different ways. Some of our questions He answers in His Word, and we have to search there for what we seek to learn. Some of them He answers through wise, loving, human friends, whom He sends to us to counsel and advise us. Sometimes our difficulties are met by words that we hear, or by books that come into our hands. Some of our questions, He solves in His Providence by opening or shutting doors for us, if we quietly go on in duty. He will always find some way to answer our questions, if we will do His will as it is made known to us - and wait His time.

"When the queen of Sheba saw all the wisdom of Solomon and the palace he had built, the food on his table, the seating of his officials, the attending servants in their robes, his cupbearers, and the burnt offerings he made at the temple of the LORD, she was overwhelmed. She said to the king - The report I heard in my own country about your achievements and your wisdom is true. But I did not believe these things until I came and saw with my own eyes! Indeed, not even half was told me; in wisdom and wealth you have far exceeded the report I heard!" (1 Kings 10:4-7)

Here again we have an illustration of the experience of those who come to Christ. People often doubt when they read or hear about Him and His love, whether the reality can be so wonderful as they are promised it shall be. They think that at least, His friends must exaggerate the greatness of the blessings which He bestows upon them. But when they come and see for themselves, when they have experienced the riches of Christ's grace and love, they learn that instead of the reports being too highly colored - that the half has not been told!

No one is ever disappointed in coming to Christ. We need never be afraid to say to those who doubt or question, "Come and see for yourselves!" If they will only come and try Christ, accept His friendship, experience His love, let His grace into their hearts, trust His promises - they will find that the truth far surpasses the report! It will be the same also of heaven's glories - when we come to enjoy them. We read wonderful things about the blessed home which Christ has gone to prepare for us; but when we reach it - we shall find that the half was never told us!

The queen's witness to Solomon, as she concluded her visit and turned homeward, was very complimentary: "How happy your men must be! How happy your officials, who continually stand before you and hear your wisdom! Praise be to the LORD your God, who has delighted in you and placed you on the throne of Israel. Because of the LORD's eternal love for Israel, he has made you king, to maintain justice and righteousness!" It is a privilege to be among the friends of any good and wise man. There are people whose close companions we may almost justly envy. They live near to the godly, the wise. They hear their words, they see their life, they have their friendship.

We may think of the disciples of Jesus, who had the privilege of being with Him continually, hearing the wonderful words which fell from His lips, seeing the sweetness, gentleness, purity, and holiness of His life and witnessing the wonderful works which He did. What a privilege was John's - leaning on Jesus' bosom, and Mary's - sitting on a stool at His feet, listening to His teachings! It is a privilege to be a member of a godly man's family, living in the midst of refinement and culture. It is a far greater privilege to be a Christian, a member of the Heavenly Father's family. "A greater than Solomon is here!"

#The Fame of Solomon #J.R. Miller #Devotional Hours Within the Bible #April 11 #2021

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simsadventures · 4 years ago

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4K Celebration | Choices

As you might know, I have reached the crazy milestone of 4 000 followers a few days ago. Whaaaat!!!

I was thinking of a way to celebrate it, but because my 3K Challenge is still going on, I thought a writing challenge could wait till the next milestone (hopefully). And so, I’ve decided to let you guys decide which of my ideas will be transformed into full-blown series next.

I have about 7 ideas, but I’ve cut them to three so that the picking is easier. I can’t promise that the story will go exactly as the premise will state, but I won’t swerve too much, I swear.

How does this work and when can you expect the fic to come out?

I mean, you don’t have to follow me, but it would make more sense if you did sos that you could eventually read what I posted :) but, your choice

all you have to do is pick one story that you like the most out of the options posted below

you have to send me an ask or comment under this post, to let me know of your choice

you can also send anonymous asks if you’re not comfortable reaching out as yourselves for whatever reason :)

the winner will be announced on 1st of July 2020, which gives you all about 2 whole weeks to vote

the story will then be posted around late August/ early September so that I can finish some of my series first

the names and characters are not set in stone, but it is very unlikely that I would change the main character in any of these fics

I know it’s not a usual celebration, but I couldn’t decide which one of my ideas to write next and I thought it would be a good way to connect with my followers :)

The options are below the cut, hopefully at least one of them will be intriguing enough for you guys!! Love you and once again, thank you for following me :) xx

Gilded (Mob! Steve x Reader)

Premise: You are an ordinary girl, living her ordinary life. That is until a prolific mobster, Steve Rogers approaches you and promises you the life of wealth you have always dreamt off. Everything has its own price, however, and, according to Steve, all you have to do is to marry him and stay married to him for a year. A win-win situation for all: Steve gets a wife to parade everywhere while still being the playboy that he is, and you get a fresh start and money for your bright future. It sounds easy, right?

Warnings: angst, arranged marriage, mobster and mafia AU, shaming, Steve is an asshole here, violence, foul language, smut might happen as well, who knows?

Cold Hearts (Alpha! Werewolf Bucky x Omega werewolf Reader)

Premise: Bucky is the Alpha of one of the greatest territories in the North, known for never settling down. When the two fo you meet, however, he pays your father a fortune to have you, only to lock you in his cabin, letting you know that while you can very well be his true mate, it doesn’t mean a thing to him. But you are a resilient creature, and something you’ve learnt in your difficult life is to never give up, and soon enough, Bucky sees that keeping you locked inside might not be the best idea. Still, he tries to keep you locked from his heart. But you have a lot to say about this as well.

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, werewolf AU, angst, true mates/soulmates, some fluff, future smut and knotting and all that fun

Bloody Tower (Vampire Bucky x Human Reader)

Premise: Vampires and werewolves are creatures well-known to all humans in your world. You try to stay away form them, but this strategy turns out to be fruitless, when you are dragged into the most dangerous castle in the whole world: The Bloody Tower, ruled by James Barnes. It is said they keep women there to breed them and to create their own immortal children, and it is safe to say, you are not ready for any of that. However, Bucky finds a strange liking in you, feeling something for the first time since he turned into a monster. And the journey of learning and loving can begin.

Warnings: vampires and werewolves, darker AU, violence, blood, breeding kink, Stockholm Syndrome (probably), prison-like castle, smut, fluff, angst,...

Sooo, hopefully there is at least one story that caught your eye and you’ll help me decide what to write next! x

Tagging people who might want to join in on the decision, or at least spread the news :) (sorry if I’m bothering you!): @waiting4inspiration @kneel-begyourpardon @p8tn0lish @imanuglywombat @jtargaryen18 @what-just-happened-bro @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @coffeebooksandfandom @stargazingfangirl18 @donnaintx @geekandbooknerd @maggiescarborough @voltage-my2dlove @angel-of-blue @ssworldofsw @xxloki81xx @jennmurawski13 @what-is-your-plan-today @charmed-asylum @marvel-love19 @americasass81 @just-the-hiddles @deanwanddamons @pagesoflauren @mushyjellybeans @mummybear @sebbbystaaan

But seriously, please help me decide, because I’m a horrible decision-maker! Love you all to the moon and back!!

#4k celebration #4k followers #new fic #new fic alert #help me decide #vampire!bucky #vampire/werewolf au #werewolf bucky #mobster steve #something new #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #help a friend out #vote

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luminess-brightcoil · 4 years ago

Text

No Matter What You Do

All instruments recording the ongoing spread of the scourge pandemic indicated a rapid increase in risk of safety, up to and including the roaming dead in the very streets of Stormwind. What was once recommended to simply be a matter of staying off the streets and increasing security measures has changed with similar rapidity, up to and including the recommendation of immediate evacuation for all citizens of Stormwind, leaving only the Stormwind Patrol, the Argent Crusade, the Ebon Blade, and any of Azeroth’s Champions that were so moved to contribute to containing the absolute carnage at hand.

As the topic was broached for what this means for the great underground metropolis of Mechagon, Luminess Brightcoil balked at the data, though she Observed it in totality and took it upon her processing parameters to integrate this new data into her daily routine. To say the outlook was grim would be an understatement. To say that she was growing exhausted of grim outlooks would be even more of one.

Even a Beacon is prone to bouts of personal dismay. It was quickly becoming one Titans-damned thing after another for her. Starting and ending a revolution. Joining and ending the Fourth of Four Wars. Defeating the encroachment of the Old Gods. The Return of the San’layn. And now, this: Death itself, and whatever forces direct it upon Azeroth. And all of this within a single year.

On days like these, a Beacon would wonder why she ever left the island in the first place...

Luminess sat amongst her peers in the Think Tank that was assembled for the purpose of analyzing and developing an expedient solution to the matter of the scourge invasion with the Gnomish population at its focus. The scent of recirculated air through coppered ducts intertwined with the effervescent presence of warm, freshly applied toner as gnome and mechagnome alike scanned through document after document. Every finer point addressed, every corollary counter-examined, every contingency remodeled and re-assessed… And yet it was the general consensus of those present that not much headway was made just yet.

Except for Walton Cogfrenzy, Chief Architect of Mechagon, who maintained that he had a very simple and direct plan of response, that in any other context would have been seen as antithetical to their current societal trajectory, and now perhaps its only chance for survival:

Complete Lockdown.

“We will establish a temporary teleportation network between here and Tinker Town,” Walton explained. “Citizens of Gnomeregan can be funneled into our now half-vacant halls along with all our Gnomadic kin. Following that, remaining available space and resource accommodation can be afforded to our Dwarven cousins, though it is projected very few would be willing to retreat from their own beloved city. Still, we must press them to do so, and once we have evacuated all that we may hold and accommodate safely, access to the network will be severed from all entry points.”

The King shifted his weight from one side of his seat to the other. By far, the once High Tinker but now King Gelbin Mekkatorque would be the least Kingly King you could meet. He was conscientious to others. He yielded space and listened more than spoke. He sought counsel for all decisions, tall or small. Betraying the good will of his people was unthinkable, just as he would strive against working against their humbler wishes. And more often than not, you had to remind him of his now-regal station. A station, it is said, he has been working to reform away from the obsolete protocol known as the 'Divine Right of Kings.' Perhaps such topics could be addressed more directly when things were Quieter. But in either regard… Luminess, for one, was grateful to have someone so unlike the Mad Tyrant that, for now, she was willing to give the whole Monarchy thing one more chance.

“It will be difficult to convince the Gnomereganians to take refuge,” sighed King Mekkatorque wearily. “Many believe they’re perfectly safe within the walls of Ironforge, despite the surrounding snowy climate being far more tactically advantageous for the Scourge than even the tranquil forests of Elwynn or the unimpeding flats of Durotar. And even so, their pride is at stake to some extent. They won’t take easily to being confined to another underground kingdom, even if it is ostensibly theirs. Over time, we of Gnomeregan have become more and more like our Gnomadic cousins than not as the impossibly high toll taken by Thermaplugg continues to plague our once-hallowed halls, figuratively AND literally.”

“And so I would hope they would be difficult to convince, your highness.” Intamin Diveroll, renowned prosthetist and out-speaker, swiveled his chair towards Mekkatorque just slightly as he respectfully interjected, but kept his gaze upon the Chief Architect. “Your plan puts our now-combined kingdom at risk of recreating the exact same scenarios for destruction that had befallen either of them. Suppose we are all holed up here and one of our vaunted city’s life preservation systems should fail, or worse: sabotaged by ne’er-do-wells known or unknown. Suppose the invasion never ends, and to quell a dissatisfied populace, a new Mad Tyrant emerges to place them back into order under the guise of Public Safety. And should neither fate befall us, and we merely survive through the ordeal to a ruined Azeroth or… continued indefinite life underground, even in prosperity… that would make cowards of us all.”

“It is not… Cowardice to prioritize survival! It is the only acceptable option,” pressed Cogfrenzy with just as much proud conviction on display as he hid his secret guilts. His servos whined under his weight as he leaned forward against the conference table with the coiled-bulb lamps glowing above his exhausted, perspiring brow. “And the only safe one. Our Kingdom is the most secure against external threats of any on Azeroth. Our doors open and close only to us, and our walls are impenetrable against all alien threats. Anyone who enters without the aid of our own kind is instantaneously vaporized by our unparalleled city defenses. For five hundred years, a full-length default gnomish lifetime... our security was so assured that the rest of the planet knew not even of our existence. We were effectively anonymous. Fel, we even have the capability of sealing off all access to the Azeroth’s vast network of Arcane Leylines, guaranteeing that not a single soul enters or leaves through the mightiest of mage portals!”

As the King ran his fingers through his whiskers, Luminess’s face belied only a hint of bemusement as her gaze slide sideways to one of her closest companions to examine his face for a reaction to that last sentence. Indy would offer none. But she knew. They both knew.

“My King,” Indy gently prodded, turning his trademark winning smile towards his liege. “The Rustbolt Revolution demonstrated to us that the answer to our prosperity lies not here exclusively in Mechagon. It lies in Greater Azeroth. And to that end it is not only such that we should not run away, but we should fight to defend it alongside everyone else.”

King Mekkatorque smiled at Indy gently, reassuringly. “On that, we are in total agreement, Good Doctor. We are no longer two kingdoms of Gnomes. We are one, and beyond that, we belong to the mighty Alliance as well. And defending our world from imminent threats within and without is the Alliance’s primary function, after all.”

The Beacon stirred in her seat, squeaking it at the hinge as she leaned forward onto her elbows, fingers tented before her face. She refused to comment on the political trajectory of the Gnomish populace, for now. Instead, she turned to another of her companions that she insisted be included on this Think Tank for the sake of the wealth of information he contains as a single entity. “Cornelius,” she addressed him from across the table.

“Hello, User!” came the chipper response from Mister Tribulatus, self-aware as ever, and the Beacon remained quite proud of him for achieving that.

“Known methods of Scourge Incursion, please, listed."

“Query accepted! Running diagnostics…”

The room fell silent, save the soft stirring of seats in anticipation, and the soft ting-ting of a spoon inside a cup of coffee, one of a great many that were filled and spilled on this auspicious day.

“Results compiled. Scourge are known to make entry into populated areas through the following means, alphabetically: Aerial Delivery. Burrowing. Contagion. Localized Necromancy.”

All eyes in the room, save Cornelius’, slowly drifted over to a mechagnome seated at the end of the table, brow bedecked with ostentatious horn modifications. His focus was trained on an asymmetrical paper football formed out of one of the documents on the table, and his attempts to ‘kick’ it through a ‘goal post’ made from used coffee creamer cups and stirring rods. His clamps fail to provide the manual dexterity needed to perform the maneuver, but after eighty-seven attempts so far, the man was not about to back down now. However, he felt the familiar sensation of an entire room of his alleged peers judging him all at once, and so he looked up.

“... What?! Titans Testes, I’m not a Necromancer, I resurrect myself with CLONES,” protested one Doctor Theodorp Wimblewomble the Sixth. Or was it Seventh, now? The people of Mechagon had only his word for the answer.

“The Fel practices are adjacent to Necromancy are they not?” the Beacon inquired, with earnest sincerity. “Perhaps in this way you can offer us insight?”

“You’re asking an electrician to fix your toilet,” chided Theodorp as he unceremoniously failed his eighty-eighth attempt to score a field goal. “Fortunately for you I am learned of a multitude of means of delivering Doom.”

The King rubbed his eyes with a gloved hand before flipping open the box of donuts on the table, deciding which of the remaining flavors might quell the madness he felt in this moment for including a pseudo war criminal on this Think Tank. Take him away, Blueberry Glazed.

“For certain, this Kingdom is advantageously impervious to outside threats, as the Chief Architect asserts. Titans know I’ve tried and nearly succeeded countless times to perviate it myself. Yes, that is a real word.”

All of the eyes that were cast upon Theodorp quickly volleyed to Cornelius. Instinctively, he clicked and whirred in place before speaking: “Perviate. Transitive Verb. To enter, bore into, or run through. Would you like me to search for more information regarding Perviation?"

Professor Theodorp Wimblewomble the Sixth silently threw his clamps into the air, victorious over all who dared to doubt him, once again. As the gnomes around him (save Cornelius) collectively stifled their groans, he permitted them immediate reprieve of a well-deserved gloating, and continued...

“As my criminal record shows, I’ve only had so much luck attempting to bring various forms of Fel into our kingdom. The Titan-Energy Interference from the Engine that we’ve made our home into is a natural repellent to both the Fel and Necromantic efforts from exterior sources. Our Previous King spared no effort or expense at seeing such impure practices all but eradicated or imprisoned.”

He takes a moment to feel very smug about being the only practitioner of either who isn’t currently technically imprisoned before continuing: “Ultimately, our greatest concern, second only to simply allowing the plague to enter our halls through contamination of persons or produce… would be someone like me infiltrating Mechagon and finding a way to succeed. For the Fel, we have no particular need of concern as ever. But in the case of Necromancy, they would not need to open a portal, they would simply need to locally source some corpses right here. Which could be remarkably easy, considering the whole proposition to keep the walls closed and sealed that no one could possibly enter or leave.”

The Think Tank of gnomes, already silent, somehow fell even more deathly quiet. No one liked that.

“Then it would not be enough to simply close the doors and shutter our windows,” the Beacon spoke wielding a voice laden equally with certainty as hesitance. “It would require a near-constant monitor of every individual’s vital signs, and restricted movement for all throughout the densely populated areas. We would effectively not be merely bunkering in for our physical safety, but we would need to place the population under a functional quarantine for the first few weeks simply to ensure there is no undetected viral agent is able to spread. We would require anyone taking refuge here to comply with these regulations, or…”

She gulped as she choked on her words in this moment. Indy peered at her searchingly. Cornelius smiled at the wall. Theodorp was on the edge of his seat, waiting for her to finish her thought. King Gelbin Mekkatorque simply listened, chin upon thumb, cheek against finger, elbow against armrest.

“... Or be placed under secure, supervised quarantine. Just for the duration. And ethically, of course. This is for… public safety.”

Theodorp clinked his clamps excitedly under the table with a wide, toothy grin while Luminess attempted to meet Intamin’s gaze. But when her optics searched for his, he had already turned away. She sank in her seat just slightly as her lips tightened and her face drooped just a bit.

The King nodded slowly as his own eyes searched in the far distance, into the invisible thinkspace we all have for flaw in this reasoning. And whether he found zero flaws to be had, or he simply accepted the known flaws as they were, it was not made clear in his exhausted sigh that set his moustache billowing in the wind blown forth from his lips.

“You speak the Truth as ever, Beacon,” decreed the King. “If we are going to do this then it would be folly to employ any half-measures. BUT... we will make sure that all who are so quarantined for the duration will have the inconvenience of their sacrificed time compensated, their needs of survival and personal comfort fully provided for. They are our people, our family and friends, and we will make their stay at home a veritable paradise until the situation is under control. To do any less would call into question the foundations and integrity of our very society’s principles in a manner we simply do not have time for right now, or possibly ever. Have we reached consensus?”

The assembled members of the Think Tank all offered their agreement in unison in low grunts of affirmation and/or raised hands. Even Intamin, after a moment. Luminess quietly sighed in relief, allowing her jaw to finally un-clench itself.

“Then the matter is settled upon. Beacon Brightcoil, I am counting on you to ensure that the quarantine efforts are carried out in a safe and ethical manner the people will find agreeable. Spare no expense. The rest of us will reconvene after a one hour biological break to discuss our efforts abroad aiding the campaign in Icecrown and the Eastern Kingdoms. Titans Observe that it will be Gnomish Ingenuity and Determination that brings a swift resolution to this crisis!”

The King’s counsel and subjects before him all responded with an assured nod and an equally assured utterance of “Titans Observe,” even Doctor Theodorp Wimblewomble the Sixth or Seventh.

With that, King Gelbin Mekkatorque bowed his head with a soft chuckle and made haste towards the door, eager to get out of being in a meeting for however long he can manage it today. Luminess, making similar speed, exited behind him as the others shuffled their belongings in order.

Intamin gave chase.

“Beacon? Oh, Beacon?” cried the man playfully behind his companion, who laughed as she slowed her pace to allow them to walk on parallel paths. “I was simply wondering which personal liberties I would still be afforded while imprisoned in my own private paradise prison.”

Luminess rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow, shaking her head as she chuckled softly. “Really, Indy, the situation is dire enough without you nagging at my personal principles over my duties as a Beacon.”

The prosthetist cackled quietly beside her, grinning all too wide as he satisfied himself with her acknowledgement of such a Truth. “I am teasing, of course, my dear… Nothing about this is easy, and though it burns at my very soul to admit it… this is a necessary action to take. So long as it remains a stopgap, and not a solution. And Titans Observe that I may rest easy knowing you are at the lead of such a project.”

“Titans may Observe it so… but they shan’t,” Luminess responded softly.

Intamin jogged in front of her to impede her movement, narrowing his ocular sensors to thin lines as he looked over her features for any sign that she might be joking. She was not.

“... You will not be staying? But you said--”

“I know that I spoke in favor of quarantine and I stand by that. It is what is right for our people, both of them, all of them… But it is not my place. For certain, This Unit could perform the task and do it well, but I am by no means the only one capable of doing so."

Intamin looked her over curiously. "Did not the King ask you to do it yourself?"

Luminess allowed a sly smirk. "He merely asked me to ensure it will be done. I will reach out Wenzli Cogsalvage to manage this in my stead. She is the finest community organizer I have seen since the end of the Revolution. And though I am beloved by many, as a Beacon I am still mistrusted by the same amount or more for our ties to the Mad Tyrant’s Orthodoxy and the work that remains in our reform thereof… By contrast, she is of the people in a way I can never truly be ever again, and will therefore be more efficient in inspiring trust in this time. In addition, since it is Wenzli... I will have the added bonus of most people simply mistaking her for being me anyway, as normal."

The prosthetist clicked his teeth. She certainly had a point, if not several, but he was not letting her off the hook so easily. "And so if your place is not here, Miss Brightcoil… Then where is it?"

A brief question inspires an eternity in a split second of consideration. Where, indeed? Was her place in Stormwind, with the Embassy as an Ambassador? Was her place with Prince Erazmin and the Rustbolt Resistance, now expanding their field of operation to fight back against the emergent Scourge threat? Was it with the other medical professionals of the Azeroth Medical Association, searching for a long term solution against the contagion and the short term efforts of caring for those currently afflicted? Was it with her mercenary allies in the Dragon Corps or the Fence Macabre, beating back the hordes with them and other Champions? Was it by the side of those she held dear, one small clutch of beloved friends or another?

Luminess smirked just for a moment before lifting her gaze to Intamin. Her eyes flickered Gold with the Light before she answered him with a warm tone.

“Uncertain. But what you said earlier rings true again: Wherever my place might be… it is quite clear that the answer is not here, in Mechagon. It is out there… in Azeroth.”

Intamin couldn’t help but allow a smugly satisfied grin plaster his face, flashing that perfect one-millimeter gap in his front teeth as they bit lightly upon his tongue to stifle a boisterous guffaw that would otherwise spoil what could be looked back upon as a tender moment.

“Titans Observe,” he said simply, and embraced his friend tightly with both arms, squeezing as hard as he can, as he always did, knowing that once again, this could be the final opportunity to do so. “But I shall not allow you to continue your adventures abroad unaided. Your previously requested modifications are complete and awaiting installation back at my workshop over a splendid Torcolato I’ve been saving for just such an occasion.”

“Mister Diveroll, there is absolutely nothing that I would enjoy more at this precise moment,” said Luminess, as she sniffled once and dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the collar of her ceremonial garb after returning the embrace of a beloved friend and confidant. She then grabbed hold of his arm for escort down the winding path from the High Tinkertory, down to into the city which she held so dear, the city which until only still so recently was all she had known.

And as she walked, audibly promising the matter was settled to her companion, she continued to silently deliberate within herself over it all... whether she was making the right or wrong choice, whether there was an optimization to their plans she failed to find, whether or not it was hopeless to even try, endlessly as she would, as she does, and as she has, every single day of her life.

And as such... she prayed to the Titans, as she did, every single day of her life, that they may Observe her following the ideal path.

Tell me what your spirit says Show me what you pray Teach me every single part I'll be your guide You are a prisoner Looking for to be You can change your face But can't change your mind No matter what do you do No matter what do you do No matter what do you do No matter what do you do

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#World of Warcraft #WoW RP #Wyrmrest Accord #Luminess Brightcoil #Theodorp Wimblewomble #Cornelius Tribulatus #Intamin Diveroll #Walton Cogfrenzy #Gelbin Mekkatorque #Gnomeregan #Mechagon #Gnomes #Mechagnomes #Death Rising #character writing

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