#also i lost a bunch of money i misplaced or something and everyone was mad at me and tried making me pay for it

[chyrstis]

I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you) 2/10

Updates for this’ll probably come every couple of days or so, and I’m already bracing myself for a third wave of edits to come. But here’s the next part, and Sharky, I’m sorry about the skunk, but you were the one to mention it to begin with. ...And the resulting idea was too entertaining to pass up.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw x John Seed Rating: E (but only for Ch. 10, the rest are a solid T) Word Count: 4.3K  

Link to AO3!

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10

—

Sharky steals a boat. It just happens to be John’s boat, and when it’s damaged along with his boathouse, John proceeds to lay out a means of having Sharky pay him back. [No Cult AU]

———–

It took two and a half days to tear the old boathouse down.

John hadn’t lied when he mentioned wanting him to get in there and take it apart piece by piece, and hovered over him the entire time.

The whole monitoring bit was easily the part that annoyed him the most. Like he was waiting for him to screw up. To somehow find a way to take the already burnt building and set it on fire again through force of will alone. Which, while badass, was well out of his means, all the wishing and praying he’d sometimes do to monkey Jesus aside.

But that didn’t stop John from acting like he had the ability. Riding him further during smoke breaks, or barking order after order at him from the sidelines.

Every other word out of his mouth was a correction. To tell him to go back to read the blueprints again. To check his measurements. To put out that cigarette, pry out that misplaced nail, and to use some of that delicacy he kept on going back to, making Sharky’s eyes want to roll back into his head.

And music? The one time he’d tried to bring any levity to the situation with the soothing sounds of disco, John put an end to it immediately. Really just made it clear how much of a drag he wanted to be, and only wanted to push the point home.

Seeing as John was some big-shot lawyer, he really expected him to have more to do than nitpick and lord this whole thing over him. Like he’d stick around for a few weeks, use the time to get off on whatever power trip he was having over this, and then go back to bugging the department, the local businesses, Nick, shit, anyone.

But John Seed was also petty as fuck.

Local gossip hadn’t painted the guy as a kind or forgiving figure, and while the Seeds as a whole were alright at best and fucking weird at worst, over the past couple of years John had picked up a rep as a colossal asshole all on his own.

Tickets? Contested. Special orders down at the store or for parts? Made with specific instructions that needed to be followed to the letter. If not, he’d demand and get his money back, damning everyone with the fine print others would skim over.

Hell, Sid, one of the guys that worked down at the cattle ranch, had traded paint with him once. He’d done so while stopping at the general store, and hadn’t paid much mind to the fancy car parked in the lot, getting just close enough to leave a small scuff on the rear bumper.

In those cases, a person would trade numbers, or see what they could buff off before moving on, 'cause insurance claims were a pain in the ass, and half of the cars in the county were a little late on renewing registrations anyway. Shit, he was coming up on a year, and hoping to see how much longer he could go before any of the Deps cottoned on to it.

But no, the minute John caught on, Sid recalled the glint he got in his eye. Then told him he’d slap him with the largest fine possible for both the damage and the late reg. All over trading paint. Not major damage, not even a busted tire.

Just paint.

Sid was still spitting mad about it, months after the fact.

He’d even pulled a fast one when it came to setting up big bro Joe’s compound. Digging up some obscure property laws all but guaranteeing the land could be sold to them.

No, no one earned the title of mega-dick by being sweet and accommodating. His bro had smoothed over a lot of ruffled feathers by being pretty okay after that, even with all of the converts chilling the fuck out on his property, but John was still John.

And now he personally had that shit to deal with. Today, two days from now, and who knew how many weeks or months after that.

So much for those chicks wanting and keeping his number too. Hurk told him he’d snagged at least one number on the way back to their drop off, but when he’d tried to call them back the other day he got no answer. Ghosted him like it was nothing, and he guessed he deserved that.

What with getting himself caught and left to doing whatever the hell John wanted for as long as John wanted.

“As per our agreement,” John would remind him, whenever he felt the point needed pushing.

And he pushed.

Whenever Sharky would drop something, whenever he let his feet drag, whenever he cut something and John was ready to whip out his tape measure.

He pushed, and Sharky shot another prayer up to monkey Jesus, hoping that maybe this would be the day to go Human Torch on the situation. Or at the very least a little Cyclops.

Not today, but he’d try again tomorrow.

But on the days when Sharky was working, it wasn’t always just the two of them. He’d full on expected this whole thing to go on in its own little pocket, with Hurk eventually crashing the party due to a need to bust him out or worse.

The day that Joseph first showed up stood out, for one.

Joseph Seed was kind of like Pastor Jerome. Not his first pick to hang out with, considering they were both on opposite sides here. Of the whole preaching and managing earthly temptations, while not super indulging in the kind of shit that he knew he wanted in his life, period.

It came with the territory, being religious leaders and all that, but when Joseph first rolled in to the county, he’d brought his people with him.

And they were an interesting bunch. The People of Eden’s Gate were some kind of holistic commune where it was pretty hunky-dory roughly ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent was wondering just what to do about the men and women that wanted the simple life. Living humbly while offering help wherever needed.

While their hearts were in the right place, it was pretty boring stuff otherwise, Sharky decided. He’d even considered joining up for the hell of it only until Hurk reminded him that there wasn’t much fucking to be found there. Pretty women, sure, but the kind more focused on spirituality, and less on how many ways they could Clutch Nixon-ify their daily lives.

But Joseph on his own was a different story.

Watching John go from calmly sipping his drink, doubling-down on just how refreshing it was when Sharky happened to push the wheelbarrow past him, to spitting half of it out when Joseph materialized next to him was fucking priceless.

Greeting him warmly, Joseph pulled a sputtering John into a kind-of half-hug gesture, but John’s cool had already been lost, and in front of his entourage too.

Joe’s wife was with him, plus kiddo number one of a baker’s dozen, carrying them up and on her hip as they talked. With them was also a woman dressed in the modest clothes the Peggies stuck to. She wasn’t trying to stand out, but he didn’t need sharp eyes to see how damn pretty she was.

It had to have been a brother thing, Sharky gathered. Embarrassing the shit out of younger siblings seemed almost natural to Joseph, and it might’ve been petty of him too, but watching John try to get his shit back in line in front of all of them was like hitting the jackpot.

So, Sharky kept on working, sneaking looks over at the group every now and then, and at one point gave an awkward wave back whenever they tried acknowledging him. But whenever John glanced his way, Sharky didn’t hide his shit-eating grin. No, it stayed put for the rest of the day.

The next time Joseph came over, however, he didn’t stop by just to say hi. He approached Sharky, ignoring John’s loud protests, and insisted on helping.

He’d get water, and help with any items that needed anchoring, stepping in whenever it looked like Sharky needed another hand. It was the most contact he’d had with the guy outside of the times he’d tried preaching at the Eagle, and outside of that? He was actually pretty okay to be around.

Well, he personally didn’t have a problem with Joe, at least. John’s irritation skyrocketed with every suggestion, especially when Joseph did the impossible. Told him that with a three-person job, you needed three people, and John? John was capable.

“You sure are,” Sharky added, giving him a wicked grin, and John looked mad enough to spit.

But he didn’t say no. Didn’t even try, or attempt it.

Did more than his fair share under the loving supervision of his older bro, and come nightfall, Sharky realized he’d had a damn good day. It was the lightest he’d felt in weeks, and wasn’t about to turn that down. Not when it helped him jump back into things with some extra pep, and the progress was a boost too.

With the actual frame up and the panels and exterior being added piece by piece, Sharky was starting to feel pretty accomplished. Proud even, because he built this. Yeah, he was being needled at every step of the way, but he used his own two hands to get this set up, no one else’s, and at the end of the day could actually see more of this coming together.

If he kept this up, he’d also have some extra skills to add to his repertoire. Might even get a chance to twist Hurk’s arm into trying out that whole ‘building and flipping’ thing that seemed to be hot at the moment, provided he wasn’t here for the next ten years.

But goals. He had goals to work towards and something to show for it, and it was pretty damn nice in the grand scheme of things.

Today, however, John had a guest again. The same Peggie woman as before, holding a basket, flanked by a few other converts.

Full on expecting to see Joe with her, Sharky wondered if he was waiting out in the woods again. Hell, even John was checking the path back up towards his house, looking past her every now and then to see if he’d catch him.

But as the minutes ticked by, and Sharky kept on working, nothing happened. And long after the other Eden’s Gate members had left, the two kept on talking, having what seemed to be a hell of a time going off of the signals they were giving off.

Smiling, laughing. Facing each other directly as they spoke, Sharky had John’s back to him almost completely, which had his eyebrows climbing up.

And judging by the way she was reacting to John in turn, he had to have been turning on the charm. Smiling shyly, twirling her hair around her finger, hell, he’d put money on her being a two-word question away from dropping everything to get a piece of that.

It was annoying as fuck, really. Dry spell or not, watching John pull it off with minimal effort sucked.

Sure, he had a lot of things working for him. The guy was loaded, for one. Had more than enough money to net himself a fancy car, his large-ass ranch, and a plane. He’d also had a boat up until Sharky had wrecked it, but that was beside the point. Man had more money than sense, and worked the slick lawyer angle for all it was worth. He’d listened in on enough convos to know just how many women in the county dug it. Shit, men too.

Plus the whole property on the water was a real panty dropper. At least going off of what his Auntie had said shortly after John had first bought it, gossiping with Sharky about the costs and expenses that came with it.

Then she promptly turned the talk on its head by launching into talking about John’s ass instead.

His drink hadn’t stayed in his mouth for long, and she’d dropped her forlorn sighing long enough to tell him not to stain the carpet. That he had to hear and think about John’s ass at all wasn’t fucking fair, especially since he was pretty damn sure it wasn’t that much of a draw to begin with. He’d checked.

Whenever John’s back was turned towards him, he’d sneak a look to see what the deal was only to be disappointed. Better asses were walking around Hope County right this moment, his included, but good luck trying to argue that with her. Or even get three words in edgewise before wanting to slap some sense into himself.

Besides, John’s eyes were better. Hands down, Sharky knew they’d been his ticket to pound town on more than one occasion, needing only to show them off and say a few fancy words to seal any kind of deal.

Dropping the wood onto the ground, he crouched down low. Stared at the wood grain of the plank to clear his mind a little before shifting his attention back towards John.

Shit, were they still talking?

He rolled his eyes. Whatever John was saying couldn’t have been that good, and any joke? Nowhere near funny enough to get a giggle like that.

At that time, John turned, giving him a look over his shoulder as Sharky became well aware of two sets of eyes on him. The woman for one, and the pretty boy lawyer that had been eating up every last shred of her attention until now.

A cross between smug and expectant, John gestured towards him.

Well?

Sharky knew three ways to tell someone to get fucked, but picked the least subtle one just in case.

Shocked for a second, John closed his mouth. But soon after, he pressed a hand to his chest, looking hurt. It was pretty convincing, making Sharky feel for a moment that he’d done something shitty like kicked a puppy.

Shame it didn’t reach his eyes. Or match the sharp smile that crept in.

“Smug-ass, smirking fuckface,” Sharky muttered, throwing the wooden plank to the side.

But not even that stuck around either. No, John flashed his pearly whites at the woman with him too, making her melt right in front of them.

Salt in the motherfucking wound. That’s what it all was, but lucky for him he only had a few more hours left to go. Then he could go home, get in a kickass shower and see what Hurk was doing.

Standing up, he wiped his face down with his handkerchief. If this had been anytime during the summer he would’ve been dying, but at least the weather was working in his favor. The breeze took the edge off just enough, and he closed his eyes for a few seconds to soak it all in.

“Oh, Charlemagne?”

Grating right on his ears, the pitch John used never failed to make him want to grind his teeth together. That, and saying his name. Kept on doing that well after being told he could call him Sharky. Shit, even his grandma used it sparingly.

“What?”

“Shouldn’t you be focusing over there-“ John froze, and all smugness vanished.

That put him on edge. “Yo, you wanna expand on that, amigo?”

Slowly turning around, Sharky caught the small creature on the ground and felt every hair on him stand on end. Black and white, and assuming the posture any pissed off animal would, it stood tall for its small size with its tail up, ready and aiming right at him.

Skunks, though, had never liked him. Guess he’d earned that after the whole kissing one bit. So, staring down what he was sure had to be some distant relative out for revenge, he did what came naturally.

Yelled. Loudly, and might’ve sealed his fate right then and there.

Hit, but not in the eyes – thank Hurk’s monkey Jesus for that – he sprinted down towards the river and dove right in.

Grabbing his cap, he kept it in hand as he bobbed back up to the surface. The smell hit as he gulped down air, and he furiously paddled away from the shore when he realized he’d been followed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

This was fucking bonkers, and it was only getting worse.

Could skunks swim? Did they have a sense for it, or was he getting played by the only one able to? Was this the moment some poor guy was going to have to act out in the movie about his life? Swimming out, smelling to high heaven as a rich asshole laughed it up from the shore?

Fuck, he hoped to hell not, 'cause he’d lived an okay life up ‘til now. And having that be the moment he’d be known for immortalized up on the silver screen was just lousy at best.

Looking back, he watched as the skunk gave him the evil eye for a minute, pacing back and forth as it thought about shooting at him again. Little fucker wasn’t done yet, but couldn’t fire another round off from where it was.

John on the other hand, was watching the whole thing develop from a distance. He hadn’t taken off, but wasn’t laughing like he thought he would either. If anything, his gaze was sharp as he aimed it over at the skunk camping him out, and kept it set in place as he approached the boathouse.

Whatever the hell he had in mind, Sharky hoped he’d do it, and do it fast.

Shit, if he ended up zapped too, that’d also make his week, but for now he needed to keep swimming, and tried to see if he could make his way back towards land. His arms and legs weren’t tired, but the water wasn’t getting any warmer, and this was more of a workout than he’d planned for.

The skunk did not let up, following his drift.

“Seriously? Don’t you got something better to get up to?”

No, it didn’t, and he paddled harder hoping to get some kind of a lead on it. Kicked enough with the intent of making a break for it as soon as he hit land.

Maybe he could shimmy up a tree? Nah, he’d be a sitting duck, worse off there than here. Get back to his car on the way? His keys were swimming in his pocket right now, along with-

Aw, dammit. There went that phone. Sputtering into the water, he coughed around the word that would’ve come out otherwise, then gave it up to keep on swimming.

On the edge of the shore, he dragged himself up and out and booked it. Didn’t see anything waiting for him, but didn’t waste time either. Just hit the nearest patch of tall bushes and stayed low.

Waiting was the worst part. Waiting, listening, and trying not to make too much noise on his end. Every branch, twig, and leaf was the enemy now, and he wasn’t about to let that skunk get the drop on him again.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

Loud squeaking sounded off in the distance, and he poked his head out from the bush.

Scanning left and right, Sharky checked for black and white. That and movement. When neither seemed to be present, he pushed his way forward and stepped out into the open.

Letting out a slow breath, he shook his hat out and slipped it back on. Then took in a tentative sniff as he raised his arm. The smell hung around him like a cloud, and getting a bigger whiff of it only made him want to gag.

Peeling the shirt off, he wrung it out, and gave it a smell as well. Now that made his eyes water. With his luck his jeans were just as bad, and he didn’t bother checking. Just pulled them off to get some of the water out of them too, and resigned himself to drip-drying the rest of the day outdoors.

“Charlemagne? You can come out now!”

John. Guess he’d found a way to deal with it after all.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

“Ugh, fucker. Took him long enough.” Groaning to himself, he slung his wet clothes over his shoulder and started heading towards the clearing.

“Well, there you…are?” John gave him a quick once over as he walked past, and pursed his lips. “Hmm.”

The woman with him didn’t even try to make eye contact. Just kept her attention directed elsewhere, her cheeks tinted red.

Great. Not that he was trying, but his odds of getting even a pity look in passing had all but tanked.

“Yo, I don’t wanna know what you did, but after that? My bullshit meter’s maxed, so fuck off.”

Prying his keys out of his pocket, Sharky unlocked the trunk of his car and threw the clothes into the back of it. Between the gas cans and propane tanks he’d thrown back there often enough, skunk wasn’t going to add much to the smell in there.

“Fuck off? That’s not very kind, all things considering.”

The trunk dropped, and he might’ve used more force than necessary. “Kind?”

“Not even a thank you?” John eyed him from a distance, smug, but only for a second. “After chasing off your little tormentor? Such a shame, really.”

“That I ain’t feeling, what? Warm gratitude towards you right now? Like happy and fuzzy shit?”

John scoffed. “Hardly.”

“'Cause you’re making a whole lot of noise for nothing, and I wouldn’t be out here busting my ass at all without you to begin with.”

“Oh, my dear Charlemagne,” he watched as John withdrew a blue handkerchief from his jean pocket, and held it up to his face to cover his nose, “I’m hardly the one at fault here.”

His patience snapped like a brittle twig. Rattling off words as fast as they came to him, Sharky scraped for the bottom, tried actively to come up with the most out of bounds targeted insults he could conjure up just to see if he could wipe what he was sure was a smirk right off of John’s face.

Then nearly crashed into the woman who had stepped into his path. Making full-on eye contact now, she gave him a hesitant, but soft smile. “I think this might help.”

In her hands was a towel. A nice, fluffy one, and she held it out towards him.

The anger drained out of him as he stared at her. Almost as if someone took an ice bucket and dumped it right over his shoulders.

Gingerly taking it, Sharky let it dangle in the air between them. “Uh, thanks?”

“Of course. For anyone in need, and you certainly seemed to be. Considering your lack of…clothing in general right now.”

Still had the underwear on, at least. Blushing five different shades of red, he quickly wrapped the towel around himself. “Yeah, um, thank you again, miss.”

She nodded, and headed back towards John. “We’ll be heading out, but can we expect you at mass later tonight?”

John lowered the handkerchief just enough for Sharky to catch the frown. “If work allows it. There’s still a lot left to do here, but you can let Joseph know I’ll try.”

Sharky pulled up a corner of the towel to wipe his face, no longer able to hear much of what was traded between them. Lady hadn’t even flinched at the smell up close, and the towel was a nice one. Nicer than any of the kind he had at home, and must’ve been in the basket she had with her.

Yeah, got that pity look after all. Great.

Staring down at his feet, he removed his cap to run a hand through his hair. The hushed voices behind him eventually stopped, and by the time John walked over he’d switched to looking out over the water.

“That was interesting.”

“Sure,” Sharky said, tired of arguing with him.

“And there went our progress for the afternoon. At least the morning wasn’t a complete waste, but our guest derailed us thoroughly. And I don’t believe you have a change of clothes, do you?”

Sharky rubbed his shoulder, and felt it twinge in response as he moved it. He badly needed a cigarette, and was desperate enough to see how many times it’d take for a wet one to actually light.

“Do you?”

“Look, I get what you’re asking. And no, I’d have-“ John raised the handkerchief again, and the words died in his mouth. “You know what? Forget it. And if you’re looking to avoid this shit, don’t stand downwind of it. Basic Scouting 101 right there.”

Sharky whipped the towel off and threw it at him.

John snatched it out of the air, keeping it from smacking him in the face. “Leaving?”

Not bothering to check behind him as he approached his car, Sharky flashed him the finger.

“You can take this with you, you know.”

That John didn’t take the bait, or fight him on it, only irritated him further. He also seemed to be following him, and Sharky scowled at him. “Don’t need it.”

John sighed, and put away the cloth. “Charlemagne, it’s a towel, and you’re still soaking wet.”

“And maybe I want the draft to help dry the swamp ass brewing here, okay?” he shot, climbing in behind the wheel. “And if you wanna give me shit for cutting out early, tack on more hours as a penalty, whatever, I’ll deal with that next time. Or, hell, the time after, as long as it doesn’t mean I’m still standing here talking any of this shit with you. That work?”

The thin line John had pressed his lips into told him otherwise, but he said nothing. Just crossed his arms before holding out the towel to him one last time.

Sharky hit the gas and didn’t look back.

[sazandorable]

Descriptions Of Lord Asriel That I Cannot Fucking Handle

(spoilers, btw)

So. Surprisingly probably no one ever, it turns out i just Can Not Handle Lord Asriel. I feel personally victimized by Lord Asriel and everything it means about me. I remembered liking him a lot but I never realized how this fucking man apparently shaped my tastes for all male characters and father figures ever. (DISCLAIMER THO: YEAH OK I DO HAVE MY OWN DADDY ISSUES BUT HE IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM MY DAD AND UNRELATED TO THEM. Shocking, yes.)

On first rereading attempt I excruciatingly managed to get through the first chapter and finally just stopped there and screamed in a pillow and stepped away to collect myself, and it took me over 6 months to even consider going back to it.

Which I’m doing now, but that means I still had to reread that first chapter again.

And yeah. Y e a h.

Have a collection of my suffering through the first 3 chapters of the first damn book

"Good evening, Wren,” said Lord Asriel. Lyras always heard that harsh voice with a mixture of pleasure and apprehension.

This is the third thing said about Lord Asriel ever and is also where I first lost it back in October and I’m STILL absolutely losing it, WHAT A SENTENCE.

Gods, Lord Asriel explains everything about me and my tastes in character kdfljdkgjldjgfljglfdgjfg DAMN IT.

jesus, every ten lines i need to take a break and calm down

The Butler looked uncomfortable. Guests entered the Retiring Room at the Master’s invitation only, and Lord Asriel knew that;

THIS FUCKER WHO JUST LIKES TO DO WHAT HE WANTS AND MAKE PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE ABOUT IT

Lyra’s uncle moved across to the fire and stretched his arms high above his head, yawning like a lion. He was wearing travelling clothes. Lyra was reminded, as she always was when she saw him again, of how much he frightened her.

that lion simile is totes uncalled for

(Stelmaria:) “You should rest.”

He stretched out in one of the armchairs, so that Lyra could no longer see his face.

“Yes, yes. I should also change my clothes. There’s probably some ancient etiquette that allows them to fine me a dozen bottles for coming in here dressed improperly. I should sleep for three days. The fact remains that —”

He’s snarky and funny and he makes you want to bundle him up under five blankets and he’s still intimidating I hate him so much

“There are only three dozen bottles left of the ‘98.”

“All good things pass away.”

HE SAYS THIS SHIT ABOUT A FUCKING BOTTLE OF WINE (and still intends to drink it)

Then Lord Asriel stood up and turned away from the fire. She saw him fully, and marvelled at the contrast he made with the plump Butler, the stooped and languid Scholars. Lord Asriel was a tall man with powerful shoulders, a fierce dark face, and eyes that seemed to flash and glitter with savage laughter. It was a face to be dominated by, or to fight: never a face to patronize or pity. All his movements were large and perfectly balanced, like those of a wild animal, and when he appeared in a room like this, he seemed a wild animal held in a cage too small for it.

*burrows face in book*

*slowly rolls over and crawls on floor to a cliff from which to throw self off*

Too much. Way too much. What the fuck.

(also please note there has been absolutely zero physical description such as hair or eye color, and yet this is the most eloquent and striking description of any character so far)

He seized her wrist and twisted hard.

“Lyra! What the hell are you doing?”

“Let go of me and I’ll tell you!”

“I’ll break your arm first. How dare you come in here?”

“I’ve just saved your life!”

They were still for a moment, the girl twisted in pain but grimacing to prevent herself from crying out louder, the man bent over her frowning like thunder.

b y e

what the fuck is that last simile oh my god Pullman PLEASE stop making Asriel sound like legit pagan god

There was a knock on the door.

“That’ll be the Porter,” said Lord Asriel. “Back in the wardrobe. If I hear the slightest noise I’ll make you wish you were dead.”

She darted back there at once, and no sooner had she pulled the door shut than Lord Asriel called, “Come in.”

I can’t quite put into words what it is exactly that tickles me so much about the fact that Asriel calls out so fast without giving Lyra any spare time to hide properly, but it does. (He’s a ruthless ass, basically.)

And then I won’t copy that but he basically tells Lyra that he won’t help her but still deliberately makes sure she can see what he’s going to show everyone, he keeps telling her to stay out of this but also decides to show her, knowing full well that she’ll be interested. And of course he enrolls her to be his spy. The amount of misplaced and unexpressed fatherly pride he has to be feeling right now. We get absolutely no hint of it in the text, but. He’s so mad and unkind with her but what he must be FEELING right now, seeing Lyra suddenly wildly jumping out of a wardrobe out of nowhere saving his life like a proper little spying little shit. Like father like daughter lakdklskflanfklsdnf GET OUT ASRIEL AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

As soon as the door closed, Lord Asriel looked across the room directly at the wardrobe, and Lyra felt the force of his glance almost as if it had physical form, as if it were an arrow or a spear. Then he looked away and spoke softly to his dæmon.

ex c u se me. things that are uncalled for, 2: this

She came to sit calmly at his side, alert and elegant and dangerous, her green eyes surveying the room before turning, like his black ones, to the door from the Hall as the handle turned. Lyra couldn’t see the door, but she heard an intake of breath as the first man came in.

“Master,” said Lord Asriel. “Yes, I’m back. Do bring in your guests; I’ve got something very interesting to show you.”

HE’S SO DRAMATIC

WHAT A FUCKING DRAMA QUEEN

WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF SET-UP HE JUST SAT ThERE WaiTING WIth his COFFEE

STOP HIM

THIS IS An ADuLT MAN AND HE JUST DOES THAT FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES

And this was just chapter one.

Chapter 2, just a paragraph later:

“Master,” said Lord Asriel. “I came too late to disturb your dinner, so I made myself at home in here. Hello, Sb-Rector. Glad to see you looking so well. Excuse my rough appearance; I’ve only just landed. Yes, Master, the Tokay’s gone. I think you’re standing in it. The Porter knocked it off the table, but it was my fault. Hello, Chaplain. I read your latest paper with great interest...”

He moved away with the Chaplain, leaving Lyra with a clear view of the Master’s face. [...] Lord Asriel was already dominating the room, and although he was careful to be courteous to the Master in the Master’s own territory, it was clear where the power lay.

how does anyone ever handle Lord Asriel in-universe. Also please note how he blithely and pointedly lies to the face of the man who just tried to murder him. This asshole I just

Then he just goes on being as dramatic as possible and pointedly and dramatically ignoring people and showing off a mutilated human head to a bunch of old men with no warning, presumably also just for the shock factor and shits and giggles again.

(Lyra’s narration also mentions quite a few times that she wishes she could see it and wants to hear more about scalping and i also love this child so much)

Lyra looked again at her uncle, who was watching the Scholars with a glitter of sardonic amusement, and saying nothing.

Asriel: *just stands there saying and doing nothing*

Me: *points at him* fuck you

She woke up with a start when someone shook her shoulder.

“Quiet,” said her uncle. The wardrobe door was open, and he was crouched there against the light. “They’ve all gone, but there are still some servants around. Go to your bedroom now, and take care that you say nothing about this.”

“Did they vote to give you the money?” she said sleepily.

“Yes.”

“What’s Dust?” she said, struggling to stand up after having been cramped for so long.

“Nothing to do with you.”

“It is to do with me,” she said. “If you wanted me to be a spy in the wardrobe you ought to tell me what I’m spying about. Can I see the man’s head?”

Pantalaimon’s whiter ermine-fur bristled: she felt it tickling her neck. Lord Asriel laughed shortly.

“Don’t be disgusting,” he said; [...]

He says this but he laughed. Like father like daughter fuck me I bet he’s just so conflictedly delighted that she grew up this way and they got to have this little spying family bonding.

“[...] Do as you’re told and go to bed.”

“But where are you going?”

“Back to the North. I’m leaving in ten minutes.”

“Can I come?”

He stopped what he was doing, and looked at her as if for the first time. His dæmon turned her great green leopard-eyes on her too, and under the concentrated gaze of both of them, Lyras blushed. But she gazed back fiercely.

“Your place is here,” said her uncle finally.

once again Lyra’s direct and completely spontaneous request for Exciting and Adventurer things, but also urgh, urgh, urgh, that gaze, and how Asriel needs a minute to tell her no. He thought about it. He pictured it. And then he said no but she put that thought in his head and he didn’t say no immediately and uhrgikdfhgjfdhjghfkghkdg.

“[...] Do are you’re told and go to bed, and if you’re a good girl I’ll bring you back a walrus tusk with some Eskimo (sic) carving on it. Don’t argue any more or I shall be angry.”

And his dæmon growled with a deep savage rumble that made Lyra suddenly aware of what it would be like to have teeth meeting in her throat.

Lyra compressed her lips and frowned hard at her uncle. He was pumping the air from the vacuum flask, and took no notice; it was as if he’d already forgotten her.

WHAT A GOOD NICE DAD

and this is the end of that but we get a flashback in chapter 3 of Asriel’s visits:

[...] and he called her to stand in front of him and tell him what she’d learned since his last visit. And she would mutter whatever she could dredge up about geometry or Arabic or history or anbarology, and he would sit back with one ankle resting on the other knee and watch her inscrutably until her words failed.

i was just about to yell “WAIT THE THING ABOUT ASRIEL IS JUST BIG DICK ENERGY” but no it’s not just that, it’s definitely also a lot of gratuitous being a bastard.

and then he leads her on with questions about her dirty nails just to make her lie then reveals he saw her playing on the roof, but then instead of chewing her out about it he’s just 

watching her sardonically.

And then he listens to her talking about what parts of the roofs are or aren’t accessible and encourages her to explore the undergrounds.

“I’m surprised you haven’t found that out.”

(fuck you!)

then he gives her pocket money (in gold) and asks her if she respects the Scholars and Stelmaria laughs when Lyra answers ‘yes’ and Lyra blushes.

relatable.

ok that’s it thanks for coming to my TED about how much i love and hate Lord Asriel his terrible parenting and his fucking incredible ideas of family bonding

[diegoalvesisgod]

Historical AU prompts

Disclaimer: All of these are mine, free for grabs, I just want to know if you write them so that I could read it. Some are tear-jerkers, some are actually crack material.

1: I’m the royal executioner and I’ve just received an execution warrant and oh God it’s you I have to put to sword.

2: I was supposed to poison the king during a feast but I didn’t know you were his food taster, now how do I save you without actually losing my head?

3: We met in the dungeon, you’re a petty thief and I’m a murderer, but I didn’t want to frighten you so I said I was a thief too, but the day of my execution is approaching and should I tell you the truth?

4: You are a nobleman and your enemies sent me to kill you, but damn you are cute and I really don’t want to do it now.

5: You are a knight and you’ve just won the tourney and put the wreath on my head in front of everyone, why the hell did you do that?

6: You’re the king, I’m your cook, you were really sick last night and you think I tried to poison you, but I’m just really clumsy and I messed up, please don’t chop my head off.

7: I’m a member of your guard escorting you to your future bride, but we fell in love on the way and now you don’t want to marry her, her father and your father are going to kill us.

8: You’re a bandit and you kidnapped me for ransom, my family is poor, but I still keep pretending I am noble and rich so you won’t kill me, also I think you kinda fancy me, we could work with that.

9: You’re a messenger delivering a top secret message, you’ve mistaken me for the recipient and now I’ve read it and fuck if they find out we’re both dead.

10: You’re a slave being auctioned, I know the guy bidding for you is a horrible person and I feel sorry for you, so I keep bidding as well, but I don’t actually have the money, oh God, how is this going to end?

11: I stole your horse when I was running from someone, now I came to return it, please don’t be mad.

12: I’m a painter decorating a church and I kinda gave one of the angels your face, now you are sitting at that church and you’ve just seen it, just kill me know.

13: I don’t actually have an explanation for hiding naked in your courtyard, but please don’t call the guards?

14: I’ve stolen one of your soldiers’ uniform when he fell asleep at the inn, so that I could steal some things in your camp, you’re the commander and now you think I’m really one of your soldiers and how am I going to get out of here, also I can’t fight to save my life, this was a really bad idea.

15: You’re the best swordsman in town and I bragged I could beat you when I was drunk, but I can’t actually fight, I just fancied you, please don’t kill me.

16: I’m a physician, you’re our king’s only son and they called me to cure you of this mysterious illness, please, don’t die on me or I’m dead too.

17: I’m a poet and I wrote a bunch of erotic poems about you, the lord of this city, as a joke, but then I got drunk and lost them somewhere, if you see them I’m dead oh shit.

18: You saved me from the guys who wanted to ritually sacrifice me, but damn you, it was supposed to happen, I’m pretty sure we’ve angered the gods now just because you totally didn’t get it.

19: I was just about to be executed when you invaded the city and now that the fight’s over you don’t know whether to actually finish that execution or not, like hello, if you could take the gag out, I’d like to have my say in this, thank you.

20: You’re imprisoned in the castle where I work and whenever I pass that tiny window of your cell, you beg me to bring you food, I don’t have the heart not to do it but if they catch me I’m dead. Also you say you’re not a bad person, should I trust you?

21: No, I swear I’m not a criminal and these men are not taking me to prison, I’m their hostage and they will probably kill me, please I know I can’t speak with the gag in my mouth but read my eyes or something and save me, please please please.

22: What the hell do you mean that you misplaced the king’s crown accidentally, I know I’m the royal jeweler but I DON’T have a replica, oh God, fine, fine, calm down, we’ll think of something.

23: They locked us together in a room because they thought we had plague, I know for sure I don’t have it but what if you do, stay away from me, actually no, stop crying, you’re not going to die, I’m sure it’s just a weird looking bruise, come here, I’ll hold you.

24: You’re a mad alchemist and you need my blood, but I’m sure we can do this without you killing me, surely you don’t need that much, woah, put down the machete, I’m sure a small puncture wound will be enough.

25: I took off my shirt in front of you and you’ve just seen my birthmark, no, my father is not the Devil, it’s just a birthmark, but if you tell anyone, I’ll kill you, I swear.

[motherpsyduck]

House Guest

author’s notes: HEEEEEy SO I've been gone for a while, I know. I'm sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I lost my passion for writing this fic a while ago and I haven't been a great place mentally so that's why I left it so long to post this. I was in the middle of this chapter but I had to finish it because I felt so guilty! So here it is! Hope you enjoy it! Just a heads-up; I might not post this as frequently as I used to anymore. It all depends if I feel like picking up this story again. I'm not saying I'll never post another chapter, it just might be a while until I do, but thank you so much for your continued support and enthusiasm for this story! It means so much to me, so much. I can't thank you enough.

-

Chapter 11: Producer Perks

Michael made sure you saw the best parts of the movie set. He walked with you and passing employees greeted him with polite smiles. Michael made an effort to acknowledge his co-workers the times he didn’t have a mouth full of his lunch. It was interesting to see what happens behind the camera but there was only so much Michael was allowed to show you. Michael’s pride and energy whilst showing off his work place to you rubbed off on you, and you’d grin and listen intently as you watched him get excited showing you the equipment they used in some old movie he was able to recite quotes from.

Seeing actors out of character but still wearing their costumes and having a coffee or a cigarette break was surreal. Michael probably let you see more than you were supposed to anyway because of your close connections to the producer of this particular movie set, and experiencing so much of the behind the scenes made you feel like a VIP.

“And over there is apparently where some guy just fucking walked on set and stole a Dewbauchee JB 700. That car was supposedly worth 475 fucking G!” Michael’s voice dips in volume with his arm hovering around your back. He walks you as close as he can to a set where cast members are shooting a scene. He points to what looks like an old fountain in the middle of an Italian styled town.

“So someone just walked up and stole a fucking car in front of everyone on set?” You whispered back still watching the scene taking place.

“Yep, drove the thing right off set.” Michael pointed back behind the two of you.

“Do they know who did it?” You’re intrigued and turn to face Michael. His blue eyes caught the Los Santos sunlight beautifully.

“Nope, people say it was some rogue fucking stunt man or something.” Michael shrugs not fully believing the rumour himself. He watches as you’re genuinely interested and studying the place where the car supposedly disappeared. Michael comes a bit closer to your ear. “... probably pissed he wasn’t getting enough credit in the movie or something. Stuntmen are highly underappreciated in this business.” You nod and watch in awe from the sidelines of a movie being made. Some small scenes are rehearsed and you watch quietly. Michael leans in close to you again.  “D’you wanna ride?”

“-What?!” Your head snaps back to Michael and you’re beginning to blush. He can’t possibly mean what I’m thinking. Some of the crew members in the distance turn their heads toward the noise. You were a little too loud in your reply but they didn’t reprimand you as they could see you were stood with Michael. They just gave you dirty looks instead and turned pages of the script loudly.

“... Back home? Do you want a ride back to the house?” You’re unaware as you’ve broken eye contact with Michael from your embarrassment, but his sparkling eyes oggle you up and down with a smirk. You clear your throat to reply.

“No, honestly it’s fine. I can walk, it’s not far.” You feel guilty having Michael chauffer you around.

“Do you even know the way?” Michael replies. You think hard for a little while but end up shaking your head signalling a no towards Michael. He sighs at the floor then looks up at you making your heart flutter. “My keys are in my office.” Michael points over his shoulder with his thumb and you follow as he makes his way back to the building.

-

The brass doorknob to Michael’s office is turned and you disappear inside with him. The door clicks shut behind you and decide to give his office a more detailed inspection as Michael rifles through the drawers of his desk for his misplaced car keys. In his frustration he throws his suit jacket on the back of his desk chair in a huff. Then as a last resort, he closes and lifts his Fruit laptop to see if his keys were hiding underneath but they obviously weren’t. He sighs again and slides his work laptop into a wide drawer he pulled out to further minimise the clutter on his desk.

You pass the time studying framed posters and old photos that hung on his walls along with trinkets and souvenirs from past movies Michael had lying around his office. You were handling a rather expensive and rare prop from a movie making Michael quickly move toward you.

“Can you put that down Y/N please? What you’re holding cost a lot of money.” Michael held his palms out anxiously at you. It was strange seeing him like this.

“Oh. Sorry.” You handed the coin to Michael and he placed it back in its velvet lined case on a slim table in front of you and pressed the lid closed. He looked at you briefly without saying anything and you assumed he was going to lecture you again. Michael was in fact admiring the way the sun outlined the freckles sprinkled on your face and lighting up your eyes. The sun shone through the gaps of his open blinds on the large window of his office.

“So are you and Trevor...er.... y’know”

“What?” You smile seeing Michael become uncomfortable.

“.... Was it just a onetime thing? Or... or should I start calling you Mrs. Philips?” Michael joked and regained social control.

“What? I... I hardly know him Michael! It just... happened that’s all.” You look at the floor briefly remembering back to that night and how good Trevor made you feel. Your hand found its way to your neck and your fingertips traced the fading purple marks on the skin.

“In the desert?”

“What?” You’re snapped out of your reminiscent memories and look up to Michael to respond. “...Yeah, but not literally in the fucking dirt or anything-”

“-and not in that corrugated metal death shack though right?” Michael whined, hoping you would at least have some class or sense after already knowing Trevor lacks any of the sorts. Michael took your lack of a reply as a reply and shook his head. “Fucking Christ.... you know he’s almost like fifty.”

“That... doesn’t make a difference.” You say confidently with a smug grin. Michael is surprised with your retort and raises his eyebrows.

“Old fucks are your type then huh?”

“Not really. I don’t have a type per say. If I like someone I like someone.” You answered honestly with a shrug.

“And you like Trevor?” Michael wanted to hear you confirm it before he even considered to believe it.

“I did.” You say coldly as you remember the way he treated you back in Grapeseed.

“You did? Oh, yeah that’s right, he sounded pissed, well, more pissed than usual, when I called you. What happened out there?” Michael looked concerned and braced himself for something worse.

“He got mad that I turned down a job offer to work for him and his business. A job offer that would almost, definitely have me expelled and deported.... Trevor took it... personally.” You rolled your eyes.

“Trevor always takes things personally so don’t sweat it. Smart move though kid. Trust me; working with Trevor, it ain’t an easy task, by far.” Michael rolled his neck to stretch and calm himself.

“I bet.” You laugh. Michael just watched you again with his bluer than blue eyes as you turn away to inspect more of his office. You notice trinkets on his desk. There’s a mischievous, glint in his eye as you pass and he admires you from behind.

“Y/N.... what did you think I meant out there just now?”

“About what?” Your attention is on Michael’s executive toy on his desk. You lean on your elbows on the desk and pull one of the metal balls on one side to start the contraption.

“About wanting to... ride.”  When the word 'ride' left Michael’s lips your heartbeat instantly rose with the sexual energy you could almost feel evaporating off of Michael standing behind you.

You freeze as you hear him slowly approach you. Your torso is bent forward over the front of Michael’s large wooden desk. Your black, bodycon mini skirt that clung to your thighs lifted up slightly when you leant forward. You felt Michael’s presence by your bottom and you gasped as he yanked the skirt up to expose your plump, round butt cheeks.

Your heart pumped blood quicker feeling Michael’s strong hand grasp at the material now bunched up above your backside. You turn your head to face Michael as he ran his thick fingers under your g string of your underwear, teasing you but also waiting for permission. Your dark eyes darted back and forth from his hand and his face.

“Is this what you meant baby?”

“I knew you fucking loved it when your boss thought I was your other woman.” Your breathing quickens.

“Do you wanna be, gorgeous?” Michael pulled the elastic of your panties up that sat in the crack of your buttocks making the material at the front of your area strain and apply pleasurable pressure to your clit. You exhale a high breathy moan.

“Yes Mr De Santa!” You squeal. You saw the look on Michael’s face and he released a chuckle then a moan.

“Mmmh, that fucking ass. I could look at that all day.” Michael spreads his warm palm across your cheek then smacks it hard leaving your skin to sting. You cry out at the impact then a wide smile spreads across your face. The idea of Michael fucking you from behind and in his office, got you all hot and bothered really fast.

Michael yanks down your knickers exposing your area. Your breathing quickens at the anticipation and you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Michael grabs hard at the flesh of your bottom and your upper thigh. He’s teasing you, and seems to be touching you everywhere but the place you want him to. Did he lock the door to his office? Just as you’re thinking to ask, his stubby fingers slide into you causing your back to arch upward and your arms to straighten underneath you on the desk. You can’t control your stuttered breathing as Michael starts fingering you slowly. His other hand is squeezing and slapping your bottom every now and then.

“Angel, you’re already so fucking wet. I bet Trevor could never get you this wet.”

“Make me wetter Mr. De Santa.” You mumble a moan. Michael chuckles and his thrusts quicken making your face heat up. Your moans become shorter but double in quantity with the amount of breathing you have to do to keep yourself from passing out.

“Not so loud baby! People might hear...” Michael strains as he fingers you deeper and rougher. You could almost feel Michael’s triumphant smile burn into you, as you stared in an ecstasy haze at the posters hung up on the wall behind his desk.

“Shit! I don’t think I locked the door.” Michael slides his fingers out of you and you turn yourself around to watch him walk away. You’re panting and disheartened as he leaves you to check the door to his office. You lean your bare backside on the front of his desk and watch him fumble the doorknob. You hear a click.

“You-didn’t... lock it?!” You say with a frown catching your breath, with your face still burning.

“Ah relax babycakes. It’s locked now.” Michael saunters back toward you with his heavy shoulder walk. You prop yourself up on the desk not knowing what to expect and Michael pinches your jaw line to kiss you hard on your lips. He tastes like old cigarettes and bourbon. You melt into the embrace as Michael’s dry hand made its way into your hair. The sensation drove you crazy as his fingers play with your hair.

You felt the sides of his mouth curl up to smile as you let out a moan into his mouth. The warmth from his crotch pushes into your leg and Michael pulls away from kissing you. Michael studies your youthful face and sighs. He rests his stubby index and middle fingers that were inside you not too long ago on your hot, plump lips.

“Shhh baby. Remember not too loud.” Michael says softly. You nod and his thumb strokes your cheek. "Ain’t I the luckiest guy alive? Not to get sentimental and shit but your college could’ve picked anywhere else.”

“Too bad I ended up in this shit hole.” You joke. It makes Michael chuckle and shake his head.

Michael’s eyes burned with desire as he watched your next move. You grabbed his hand near your mouth and inserted his fingers soaked with your juices into your mouth. Your full lips ran down the length of his fingers and you sucked any residue off. You popped Michael’s stubby fingers out of your mouth and did circles with your tongue on his finger tips. Michael watched in awe and mouthed the work “fuck” and you heard him whisper it ever so lightly. He raised his eyebrows and hung his jaw as you let his hand fall beside him and pushed him away from you slowly. When you had enough room you began to kneel in front of him.

“Now it’s your turn to try and be quiet Michael.” You purr as you unbuckle his belt. You glance up to him and notice his jaw is still ajar slightly. You watch from under his slightly hanging stomach as he exhales and inhales quickly.

Michael’s pupils dilate within his beautiful blue eyes as you take your time pulling the zip down of his suit trousers. You hear him exhale sharply as you forcefully undo the button and smirk back up to him. He must be very sensitive.

Your vision is now on the bulge straining within the material of his boxers. You reach your hand into his underwear and release his rock hard penis. It now hung in front of you demanding entrance to your mouth. You study it before making eye contact with Michael again whilst kneeling on the floor. Michael’s slightly smaller than Trevor but his size is still impressive.

Without breaking eye contact with Michael, you wrap your cushiony lips around the tip of his cock and it slips into your warm mouth. Michael exhales a strained moan as you pull more and more of Michael’s length into your mouth and bob your head back slowly to release him.

It doesn’t take long for you to speed up your sucking and licking. Michael isn’t sure what to do with his hands so he places one around the back of your skull to try and control your rhythm. The hand from the back of your head keeps you in place as Michael forces more of himself in and out of your throat. It’s taking all of Michael’s might not to release and orgasm loudly in your mouth.

You grasp his shaft and pull him out of your mouth to catch your breath. Your hand is pumping away and your tongue licks at his dripping, reddened tip. You glance up and Michael’s back is arched forward with his head tilted back ready for his sweet release. Just then, the two of you are startled by a light knocking on the door to the office.

“Mr. De Santa... Mr. De Santa? You still here?” The voice on the other side of the door jiggles the doorknob. You freeze and let Michael’s penis slide out of your mouth when he spins around in the direction of the sudden interruption. He snaps back to look at you in a panic.

“Y/N get the fuck under my desk in case they wanna come in!” Michael whispers harshly at you as he shoves his genitals back in his boxers and pulls up his trousers and belt. You pull your underwear back up and crawl quickly around the large wooden desk and hunch yourself in the space underneath. Michael wipes his mouth and lastly pulls up his fly to his trousers and unlocks the door. He opens the door slightly so only his head had enough room to fit through the space.

“Yes what is it? I have some work to do.” Michael barked to the young man outside his office.

“Oh, my apologies Mr De Santa,” The young intern started peeling through the papers on his clipboard finding where to start the topic of conversation. “I thought you’d wanna review the takes we did today. We did some great work-”

Michael watched him in horror as the intern didn’t go away. Michael opened the door more and lifted his hand to stop the young man talking. The intern looked up from his notes and made eye contact with Michael.

“-Look I believe you kid, I just can’t right now. I’ll look over them tomorrow.” Michael was short but appreciative of the work that was done today.

“I’m sorry. Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The young intern slipped the clipboard under his arm and saluted Michael with a smile. He was about to leave before Michael spoke again.

“See ya...erm...” Michael snapped his fingers rudely to try and jog his memory for the name of his co-worker.

“... Todd.” The young camera man finally spoke in a disappointed tone.

“Todd! Yes, I’ll get back to you tomorrow. I appreciate it, thanks kid.” Michael waved then slowly closed the door.

“No problem M-” Michael shut the door in the twenty-something year old’s face and locked it again.

You waited under the desk and your heart raced as you heard his footsteps nearing then jumped slightly when you saw Michael duck his head down and grinned wickedly at you.

“Good girl.” Michael’s hand reached in and grabbed your arm to pull your out of the space under his desk. You crawl out and stand up in between him and his desk. Your skirt is still pushed up and sits around your waist. He’s pushing his hips into your groin and you can feel his hard-on through his pants and through your panties. You glance down at it and then back to his face.

“That was exciting.” You admit as Michael sits you up on his desk. Another moan leaves your lips as Michael’s mouth finds your neck. He leaves light kisses on your skin.

“He’s about your age” You feel his voice vibrate on your neck. “Want me to set you two up?” Michael was kidding. His large hand reached up under your shirt to fondle your chest whilst the other rested on the side of your face. You felt the metal from his wedding ring brush against your ear.

“Yeah why not?” You exhale hoping it would annoy Michael. It did. He pulled away from your neck to stare at you straight in the eye. Michael’s serious look was intense but you couldn’t keep your straight face for very long. You pull your shirt up off over your head and stare naughtily at him. Michael’s face softens too as you wrap your legs around his waist to pull his crotch into yours. His breath hitches as it makes contact and he grinds his teeth.

“Baby. You just might be the death of me.” Michael’s hands interlock behind you. His palms rest on your lower back. Your hips roll on Michael’s clothed shaft as you slip each strap of your bra down and Michael unhooks the strap that sat on your back. You’re impressed how speedy he was at unhinging your bra.

Michael takes a second to decide which nipple he wanted to start with. Your eyes close and your mouth hums from Michael’s gentle nibbles and sucking as he switches between your sensitive nipples. His lips are soft but his teeth are sharp. Michael makes a loud sucking noise in between harsh breaths when he pulls on your nipple with his strikingly whiter than white, Los Santos teeth. You bring your head back down and meet his lustful gaze.

“Fuck, are you always this fucking corny?” You moan a laugh whilst playing with Michael’s hair. Michael pulls away and instead his finger tips take over and circle your nipples. He looks at you with a half smile.

“Yes. Are you always this much of a fucking potty mouth?” Michael arches a brow and then before you can answer he leaves kisses and streaks of saliva in your cleavage.

“Look who’s talking!” You breathe a moan. Michael stands up straight and chuckles with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. His stare is dark again and you feel your heart beat banging against your ribcage. You wet your dry throat with a swallow and wait for Michael to speak.

“Show me how much of a dirty mouth you’ve got baby.” Michael voice is deep and gravelly as it travels up his throat. His piercing blue eyes glance at your lips then back to your own eyes. Michael waits for your response. You make him wait a bit longer and without blinking and breaking eye contact, you answer him slowly and begin to unbutton his shirt starting from his collar bone.

“I want you to fuck me hard from behind Mr De Santa! Right here. On your work desk.” You stare into Michael’s hypnotic blue eyes. His jaw hangs again, pleasantly surprised at you. He swallows to moisten his throat then replies.

“Shit, you don’t have to tell me twice!” Your legs release Michael and he steps backward to give you room to hop off his desk. You lean over his desk again, but this time on the opposite side and facing the opposite side of the room.

You hear Michael whip off his shirt and undo his trousers from behind you and he grunts as he pulls his cock out. He pumps it slowly to get it fully erect again. The pit of your stomach tenses as you feel his touch on your backside. Michael's careful hands peel your panties to one side and rubs the tip of his penis up and down your opening. Your thighs wobble and your whole body shivers.

“Ready angel?” Michael asks breathlessly.

“Yes Michael! Fuck me already!” You growl impatiently.

“Alright babe.” Michael purrs as he slides into you. You stutter a small moan as he stretches your walls. Your nails drag the top of the desk and you moan when Michael is completely inside you. You feel his dad stomach under his shirt rest on top of your butt cheeks. You exhale loudly when he pulls out of you quickly.

Michael shushes you again. You try to quiet down but can’t stop the pleasurable noises escaping your lips. You feel Michael’s torso lean over your behind and his hand appeared in front of your face to cover your mouth. He pushes himself deep inside you again and you scream into his palm. He’s thrusting quickly smacking against your lips. You hear him straining moans and the slapping of his groin against your backside.

You take in as many deep breaths as you can through your nose but it’s still not enough, you begin to feel light headed and whine every time Michael gets rougher with his penetrating. The knick knacks on Michael’s desk shake violently and some fall over from Michael’s quickening speed. Michael removes his hand from your mouth and uses it to grip your waist. Your vision blurs as your eyes roll back into your skull. You’re near your climax and moan out his name.

“YES! Yes Michael! Fuck me harder!” You moan and wait for the sexual bliss to take hold of your body. The familiar feeling in the bottom of your stomach creeps up and your moans get shorter and shorter then become silent as you’re closer to your orgasm.

Michael grabs hold of your hands bringing them together on your lower back. He pulls on your arms to thrust deep and hard up into you as you release onto his cock. Your walls pulsate around his shaft and your legs twitch uncontrollably. You exhale your orgasm loudly but Michael doesn’t care now. He just wants to replay the sweet noise you make while he’s inside you.

Michael leaves go of your arms and you lazily flop them down to rest in front of you. He slips out of your soaked hole and has his eyes set on another.

“Open that drawer.” Michael commanded with beads of sweat running down his forehead. His chest rises and falls with his harsh breathing as he points to a small drawer in his work desk. You do so with confusion and pull the handle of one of the small drawers. It’s cluttered with pencils, pens and crumpled notes. You’re not sure what Michael wanted you to find.

“What are you looking for?” You ask as you root around in the hanging drawer. Michael backs away from you and leans his hand into the drawer. He pulls out a girthy tube of what looks to you like a tube of toothpaste. It doesn’t have a label on it though... Michael unscrews the cap and applies some of the clear substance to himself but before you can ask what he’s doing, you feel him apply some to your asshole. Oh... that’s what it’s for.

You’re starting to regain a normal breathing pattern before feeling Michael’s tip poking your asshole. Your head snaps back to him and your eyes widen with horror and a small bit of exhilaration. You didn’t peg Michael as an anal type of guy. After Michael lubes you up, he eases himself into your asshole and you cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Fuck-Y/N-you’re so fucking-tight!” Michael strains as he pushes more of himself into your ass. You bite down on your fist enjoying the gratification and trying to ignore the pain. You whine as Michael pushes more of himself inside.

“Where’s that smart mouth of yours gone huh?” Michael says with a massive grin. His large hands grope your buttocks to spread them as he forces himself inside. He pulls out slightly then back in again.

All you can muster out is a whimper at the pleasure and it sends Michael crazy. You massage your clit roughly before he grabs the back of your head and pulls on your hair. He’s getting faster and faster fucking your asshole. Michael’s skin crashes into yours again and again. He moans profanities as he gets closer to his climax.

“FUCK YEAH- I-STILL GOT-IT!” Michael orgasms and releases himself. You feel the warmth of Michael’s cum fill up your ass.

After Michael finishes his jerks and is fully satisfied, you feel him slide out of you. You turn yourself to face him and he kisses you hard with his hand snaking up from your waist along your ribcage, to your neck. It made you shiver. You pull away from Michael and blink slowly before being mesmerized by his blue eyes.

“That was... unexpected.” You say with a sigh as you stroke his bicep.

“You weren’t too bad yourself angel.” Michael said with a half smile. He pulls his suit trousers up from the floor and fastens it at his crotch along with his belt. He moves away from you to find the clothes scattered around the room from the moment of passion. He picks up his suit shirt and tosses you your bra and t-shirt. You catch them and watch Michael dress himself.

“... We can’t do this again obviously.” You finally speak after fixing your bra and pulling your t-shirt over your head. Michael looks up making your heart flutter again. He sees the playful look on your flushed face and moistens his lips as he nods.

“Obviously.” Michael scoffs with a grin. You can’t look away from his beautiful, baby blue eyes as they glisten and catch the light.

- [<-CH10] [<-CH1]

[ghoultyrant]

FoZ Notes 18

Alright, we finally are having the plot start moving. Kinda. In any event a decent amount of stuff I felt like making notes of is happening.

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

Saito literally glowing after him and Louise affirm their love. Neither of them notices. [You know, I’d forgotten about this because it doesn’t come back]

Fouquet giving money to Romalian orphans out of kindness. This is apparently just a thing with her. Oh, excuse me, to Albionese orphans in Romalia. So she's got loyalty to her country, I guess?

Also, Wardes is back. Apparently him and Fouquet have been hanging out in Romalia for... some reason... since Albion lost the war. He's been reading some secret Romalian book detailing historical events involving people revolting against Church power etc, among other books he's been reading in this period. Apparently Fouquet stole it for him.

Wardes mother was a researcher at the same facility Eleanore works at. She researched history (I guess she was an archeologist?) and 'earth history' (??), eventually went crazy, sexist commentary ensued because the author STILL cannot make up his goddamn mind. It's heavily hinted that the Wind Stone Catastrophe I've been spoiled on is her Go Mad From The Revelation moment, which she for some reason decided to not tell anyone about. Wardes is now trying to follow in her footsteps. Why? Because he semi-accidentally killed her when he was twelve by giving her a shove at the top of some stairs, so he's felt guilty ever since.

So. The fuck does that have to do with his original plot of wanting to become God-King of Halkeginia? [No, the story makes no attempt to explain what his original storyline was about]

Romalia knew Wardes and Fouquet were here the whole time, did nothing until just now because Reasons.

Josette has never felt happiness in her entire life. It takes her a bit to recognize it when she first experiences it. She's fully aware Julio is just using her, but loves him such that she's fine with that, which would be creepysweet except she's like the fifth such character at this point, so really it's just plain creepy. Especially since they're all women.

I am getting REAL damn tired of Romalia knowing everything everywhere all the time EXCEPT when they fail to know a thing that it would actually be plausible for them to guess at. (eg Joseph being the Gallion Void mage) The story almost never makes the slightest effort to justify it. It's ridiculous.

More generally, Julio is a goddamn Sue of the highest order. More so than Saito! That's nuts!

Isabella has a knife that talks. Unclear if it's a knife-person or just a knife-radio. Later narrative implies it's a radioknife.

Tabitha saying she isn't foolish enough to help a religious fanatic -to the Pope. Gutsy.

The Pope replacing Tabitha with Josette is intended as a plot to bait out Saito and company because of fucking course.

Guiche views stealthy action as un-noble. No wonder he's so shit at his attempts to court a zillion women without them knowing about each other.

Oh hey now WE are using 'Skillnir' to fool enemies. Skillnir apparently require blood from the person you're wanting them to imitate... which raises the question of how Romalia got a sample of Saito's blood without him knowing. This is a dumb plotpoint.

Kirche will fucking murder you if you kill Tabitha. No hesitation. That's pretty darn close, emotionally! It’s more emotion than she’s shown for, say, Colbert, who I’ve utterly failed to mention her having the hots for after his ridiculous non-death because it’s an idiot plotline.

Saito is fucking baffled by someone having seemingly changed their face with magic. Don't think too hard about how Louise told him about the bastard-hiding place with its face-changing magic, you know, last volume. That was a whole volume ago, how dare you expect the author to remember things from so far back!

Abruptly, we're told Earth Stones are a thing and are necessary for golem production. Okay, cool. Fuck you, you horrific piece of shit, this is either some of the worst planning I have ever seen or some of the most blatant, disrespectful retconning I have ever seen. We should've been hearing about this in Volume Fucking One. Volume Two at the latest, where we were introduced to Wind Stones. We should not be hearing this nonsense in VOLUME EIGHTEEN.

Abruptly we hear that the Pope, when traveling, has to stop and bless people, thank people, etc etc. Why has this never cropped up before, then?

Chikasui -the girl of face-changing and Isabella's right-hand woman as far as I can tell- showing up as a man. Is she a shaspeshifter?

You know, I only just realized the "Mountain of the Fire Dragon" is actually something we heard about back in Volume One. Holy Continuity, Batman!

Really annoyed that Tabitha being pulled from the Pope's carriage doesn't cause Vittorio's men to second-guess their loyalties. Their outrage seems to be over, essentially, casting aspersions upon a man who should be beyond reproach, and then the aspersion turns out to be true. They ought to be horrified and/or outraged to discover that Vittorio has abused the trust that everyone puts into him, NOT blithely, angrily fighting for him like nothing has changed. [Reader note: Saito and company accuse the Pope of kidnapping Tabitha, basically, the Paladins are all “His Holiness would NEVER and how dare you claim otherwise!” and then out comes Tabitha and they don’t acknowledge how this contradicts their belief in the man]

Also getting tired of Vittorio and Julio insisting people should trust them, as they totally have a good reason for it honest! Nope, don't care. Behave in a manner not worthy of mistrust before you demand trust, assholes.

I'd be thrilled to see Saito calling Julio on his manipulative womanizing bullshit if he wasn't a massive goddamn hypocrite. Also because it devolving into a fist fight while Tabitha, Kirche, and Louise stand by and watch is idiotic nonsense. Earthquake interrupt! Vittorio makes a comment that implies this is the Wind Stone Catastrophe. Specifically, Fire Dragon Mountain takes off. Julio claims this Wind Stone issue is why they need to retake the holy land... which explains fucking nothing.

Ugh.

Ridiculous claims that half the landmass of Halkeginia will rise up and this will cause a land war. Guys? You remember Albion? That place people live on right now? I know you do, because you're mentioning it in this conversation. In fact, this will INCREASE the amount of land available to Halkeginia! There will definitely be chaos and death, but you're all wrong ANYWAY.

Oh and we learn Brimir made a device that's in the holy land that requires four Void Mages to activate and which will somehow fix this. Dude. It's been 6000+ years. Even shaving it down to 5000 since Halkeginian years are shorter than Earth years, that's way the fuck too long. It's probably rust and dust, or at least buried. This should be obvious to everyone. Yes, I know, there’s those stupid preservation spells, but the plot itself seems to have entirely forgotten about them.

Why did all this stupid shit happen? Because! In true Shonen style, Julio wanted to fight Saito! Okay, so? What, Vittorio obligingly did a bunch of pointless bullshit to accommodate his familiar secretly being hijacked by an Entity? This is not an explanation that makes any kind of sense.

Of fucking course there's a spell for turning a wand's tip into a whip. And of course Eleanore knows it. As an aside, Malicorne is a masochist. It looked that way for several volumes, but A: I thought he was nobody important, a temporary character and B: it was ambiguous. Nope, he likes being whipped. sigh

Aaaand Louise saying she's "not a child anymore" seems to be taken by everyone as a shocking admission that she's had sex. Oh god she's had sex with Saito. I need brain bleach.

Naturally, Tristain digging into the Wind Stone issue causes them to agree to participate in the Crusade. This is stupid. The stupidity is unending. I'm having trouble making myself keep reading in the face of the biggest, most world-building-est plot twist of the series being such a crock of shit on every level.

Luctiana gets Ali to accept this mission he hates by virtue of refusing to marry him if he denies her the "greatest adventure" she can imagine. Because she wants to come along too, you see. Bidashal Just As Planned this, pretends innocence when Ali calls him on it. [Wait, did I mention Luctiana and Ali before? I don’t remember that being in my previous notes, did I lose the original notes or is this misplaced? In any event they’re both Elves. Luctiana has a fascination with ‘barbarians’, which is her entire character aside from being pedobait, while Ali has basically no character at all]

Oh fuck no. No, don't have Louise throw away her noble title to be with Saito. This is heinous bullshit. (Okay, it doesn't actually happen, but that Louise would consider it worth it horrifies me regardless)

Something I ought to have mentioned back on Volume One: magic lamps. Thing is? They've never been explained. Who makes them? Why are they in noble houses/institutions, but nowhere else? What powers them, given that magic is chant-based? They're just... present, and questionable worldbuilding.

Elves murdering bandits. Ali purports to dislike killing, but none of the Elves seem upset at the gruesome deaths they're inflicting. Wow, what pacifists. I am very convinced.

End volume 18.

------------------------- In which we finally learn about the Wind Stone Catastrophe and learn that Romalia's Crusade is not just fanatical religiousness. Oh and we finally see a bit of Elf culture/lands.

Alternative summary: Stupid Nonsense Pileup. Like a thirty-car pileup, but of stupid nonsense.