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folklorelise · 4 years ago

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Rich girl who loves to help

Attack on titan - Levi Ackerman: as a child you always loved to help people, that’s how you met Levi one day.

MASTERLIST

You were born in a rich noble family from Sina. You always loved running around since you were a little kid.

At the age of 5, you somehow went through the Wall and visited Wall Rose and Maria. Once, a homeless guy attacked you and the MP had to bring you back home. Your father was rather angry at you and forbid you to go outside Wall Sina. Your mother was nicer to you. She told you that it was fine.

“Mommy, I saw people sleeping in the streets. Why?”

“Some people aren’t as fortunate as we are.”

That is when you thought ‘maybe I can help then’ because you had plenty of food.

One night you decided to gather some food and sneak out. The Garrison squad were asleep, so you just had to walk pass them. You found people in the streets very soon and they would just look at you.

“Hello.” you whispered. You took out some bread and fruits and put them on a tissue and left them on the ground.

And you continued your distribution until you ran out of food. You walked home quickly and went to sleep. You did this once a week but once again, your father found out.

“Y/N, you can’t go outside of here, it can be dangerous.”

“Daddy, I’m just trying to help.”

“I know, I’m sorry but you can’t outside Wall Sina. You can help here.”

“But no one here needs help.” you murmured.

A few days later, you learnt about the Underground. A whole city of people who could need help. You took a little bag and filled it with bread, a little bit of meat, fruits, and some water. A friend of yours showed you the stairs that would bring you to the Underground. There was not any light, so you just wandered around until you found a tiny boy all curl up outside a building.

“Hey.” you stuttered. He still had his head in his arms, and you noticed he was shivering. You took your coat and put it on him. You then took out some bread and meat and hand it to him. He looked at you surprised. He swiftly took the food and devoured it. After he finished it, he took your coat and wore it close.

“What’s your name?” you asked but no sound came out of his mouth. “I’m Y/N.” You just stayed there with him. He was skinny. You then remembered that you had some water with you and some apples. You took them out and he extended his hands toward you. You gave them to him, and he ate them slower this time.

“Thank you.” he hesitated. “Levi.”

“It’s a pretty name!” you smiled.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know... I have more food with me. I wanted to help.” He did not answer and just cuddle himself in your coat. “You can have it all if you want.”

“What about you?”

“I have plenty of these at home.”

“Oh...”

After some time spent in silence with him, he had to go back home. He got up and just left, with your coat and food. So, you went home after.

A week later you came back, hoping to find Levi. So, you went back to the building where you found him last time. But he was nowhere to be seen so you just distributed your food to everyone you could. You then tried to ask around if they knew a Levi around, but no one answered. They would just take the food and run.

After two or three visits, you stopped going because sometimes, people would get violent. And you could not always explain to your parents why you were bleeding and hurt. You still wanted to help but you just decided to do it less often.

At the age of seventeenth, you encountered a group of teens that planned on mugging you. You walked down the stairs and suddenly, a group of guys tore your bag off and another one was restraining you. You tried to scream but he had his hand on your mouth. After taking your jewellery, one of them tried to take your clothes off.

“Please... stop.” you cried, petrified.

As he was taking your dress off, someone from behind stopped him and threw him against the wall. Another man, with black hair took care of the other two men.

“Are you okay?” the blond asked you as you dropped on the ground.

“Yes... thank you so much for mh... for helping me.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” the man in front of you said. You looked at him and once you saw his eyes, it felt like a dream.

“Levi?” you whispered.

“How do you know this girl?” the blond guy asked.

“We met once.” you answered instead. “When we were kids, I came down here and I gave him food. I looked for you,” you were now facing Levi. “But I never found you, I tried to ask people, but they aren’t really talkative around here.”

“It’s too dangerous around here for you to come.” Levi warned you again. “Stop coming around here.”

“I want to help! I always did and I won’t stop now.” Levi just glared at you. He came closer and took your arm in one hand, handed your bag of food to the other guy, and started walking. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere safer.”

You learnt that the blond guy was Furlan and that they lived together.

“Welcome to our home.” Furlan smiled.

“Waw, it’s very clean!” you giggled.

“It’s all Levi.”

You looked at Levi and he was preparing some tea. You proposed some food to them and Furlan gladly accepted. Levi did not talk much. You never thought that seeing Levi again would make you so happy. Especially because you only saw him once, as a child and you did not talk much.

“So mh... what are you guys doing these days?” you asked.

They just stared at you without answering.

“Things that aren’t made for ladies like you.” Levi answered handing you a cup of tea.

“Thanks.”

You drank in silence and you started to feel like you were intruding. But you did not want to leave Levi yet.

“So, why are you still giving food around here after all these years?” Levi asked. “I heard stories about you getting hurt.”

“I just want to help.”

“Well stop. If we were not there today, who knows what would’ve happened.”

“You look nice!” you tried to change the subject. “It’s good because you used to look very skinny. And I was worried!” you continued talking quickly. “So yes, you look very good. You’re really pretty.”

“Stop talking.”

Furlan was looking at your interactions, amused. Your cheeks were hot, hotter than your tea. And Levi was smirking. After this interaction, Levi decided to walk you to the exit.

“So, when are you going to come back?”

“Oh mh... I don’t know yet.”

“Well decide, so I would know when to come and escort you around.”

“You don’t have to do that!” you reassured him, blushing hard.

“I know, but I want to. So, decide now, when are you going to come back.”

“In a week then, probably after lunch.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

You smiled at him and left. After this, you came around more and more often. Sometimes without food because you just wanted to spend time with Levi. You would obviously bring quality tea for him. You would talk, mostly you and he would listen. He would choose longer path just so he could listen to you. After a few months, he finally told you what happened to him. How the night you were there, he was starving because his mom died a few days ago. And the next day, a guy named Kenny came and took him with him.

After a few years, Isabel came along, and you started to feel like a fourth wheel. Isabel was nice and she was glad to hang out with another girl. And you felt like Levi did not need you anymore. He was happy around them; he was happy without you. You wanted to be selfish and be the only reason why he was happy. You wanted to slap yourself to stop thinking that way. So, you just visited less, pretending to be busy with your medical training which was not completely false.

Levi was confused but did not say anything. He did not want to sound desperate. But he missed your presence.

After Erwin’s visit, Levi, Furlan and Isabel left the Underground. Levi thought about you. He did not tell you and what if you thought that he just abandoned you here. Once alone with Erwin, he asked for Erwin to let him stay there just for a few days. But he refused and they had to leave.

The day you had to come, you waited for Levi multiple hours. Maybe he had a job to finish and was taking longer than usual. But once the night came, you just gave the food away to the first people you saw and went home crying. Maybe he was just busy. So, you came back the next day, and the after that one. A week later, you decided it was useless. So, you dedicated your time to your studies.

You trained to be a nurse and you decided to be one for the Survey Corps since the Military Police did not need anyone.

Your first day was nice, the doctor in charge showed you around and the equipment. He warned you that later in the day, the Survey Corps would come back from their expedition.

“You go to room three, Squad Leader Erwin is there and a newbie too.”

“Yes.”

The first thing you saw once you opened the door was grey eyes, the kind of grey that only belonged to one person you knew.

“Y/N!” Levi jumped from his bed and winced from his minor injury.

“Squad Leader Erwin!” you ignored Levi.” What seems to be the problem?”

Erwin left after you fixed the problem and that left you alone with Levi.

“What happened?” you asked after a long silence. “I waited for you for a week and you weren’t there. And now you’re... here.”

“Erwin, he brought us here.”

“What?”

“A guy asked us to do something, things happened, and Erwin proposed to us to join the Survey Corps.”

“And what about Furlan and Isabel? Are they here too?”

“Not... anymore.”

“Oh... I’m sorry.” you said, and you hugged him making sure not to hurt him. You cleaned his wound and wrapped it and he was good to go. But he stayed.

“I asked Erwin for more time. He said no.”

“I thought...” you took a deep breath, “I thought that you left, not the Underground but me. I thought that maybe you did not need me anymore and that you got tired of me. I cried after that, a lot because I needed you, but you did not. I thought we were on the same path and that you were maybe...”

“Maybe what?” he looked at you, but you did not answer. “I never wanted to leave you. You were there for me when my mom died without knowing it. You gave me food and your tiny coat that used to cover my whole skinny body. I still have your coat somewhere because you gave it to me. You helped me and you did not even know me. Then years later you came back.” He brought you face to face him so he could look into your eyes. “And you were right. I am.”

“You are what?” you asked innocently.

“I am in love with you.” he whispered before kissing you.

“I am in love with you too.”

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman one shot #i have college and homework but i cannot stop writing!#help me

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tenyacore · 4 years ago

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the princess of the sea

-> royalty!au iida tenya x fem!reader

this is the literal bane of my existence. here you go, part 1 of my iida royalty au fic. very loosely inspired by raya and the last dragon and genshin impact, but you can barely tell.

IF THE KEEP READING THINGIE DOESNT WORK PLS TELL ME!! ++ there is a paragraph that gets repeated. im sorry, but every time i fix it, it happens somewhere else. idk what to do at this point. sobbing.

warnings: language. also its long and ends on a cliff hanger oops

word count: 4.8k words

check out my masterlist for more of my works!!

the sound of your heels hitting the shiny floors bounced off of the walls nonstop as you ran. you were a princess, one that was late to the ball being held to celebrate the alliance of four nations that had fought against one another for over a century. as you round the corner towards the banquet hall’s doors, you make eye contact with a tall, blue haired, handsome man- and then fall flat on your face.

it wasn’t often countries came together to make amends after hundreds of years of wars, attacks, and disagreements- yet here you are, making a fool of yourself in front of the prince of lupusvine, the northernmost nation. you rush to pick yourself up, muttering a quick “damn it, y/n,” whilst fluffing your dress back up to its once cloud-like form.

“are you alright? it’s y/n, no?” the man you had seen before now much closer, offering his hand out to greet you.

quick history lesson- the planet was named xenos centuries ago, by four gods. what their names were is hard to decipher; by the time humans were capable of writing and recording history, the gods had many names. there were more countries on the planet, but the most important (to you) were the four nations that were named and ruled by the four main gods, all sharing borders. ruritania, ruled by the goddess of nature, has the perfect climate for farming, raising livestock, and taking trips from the other nations. it was considered a utopia for those who liked peaceful, cottage living.

lupusvine, ruled by the god of wind, was cold. the citizens tend to be either extremely wealthy, or dead, really, as being homeless in the brutal cold would be a slow and painful death. they tend to be strict and uptight, and worship their god’s every word. ambrosia, ruled by the god of fire, on the other hand, was scorching hot most of the time. it was mostly desert, and ambrosians tend to be strong, rough, aggressive towards outsiders, yet loving towards their families.

lastly, oceania, ruled by the goddess of water. oceania, being the nation you were soon to rule, was perfect, like ruritania, hot in the summers and cold in the winters, but not unbearably so. it was the wealthiest nation, not because the rich keep getting richer, but because the nation helps and nurtures those who are struggling. it was seen as a sort of idyllic place, and because of that, the other countries often envied oceania.

one last, probably important bit, before you remember the prince of lupusvine is waiting for you to give him your hand- hybrids are common in xenos. which is why, as you stare at the prince, flustered, you barely notice the wolf ears on his head.

“it…it is y/n, correct?” he hesitates.

“oh, yes! i'm very sorry!” you put your hand in his, greeting him. “you must be tenya, prince of lupusvine!” you attempt to compose yourself while the wolf man before you reaches up to adjust your small crown as he breathes out a soft “yes.”

you blush due to how close he is and he apologizes. “sorry, but i'm sure that with the rush you were in, you wouldn’t have had the time to notice your crown was barely hanging onto your head for dear life.” he chuckles and as your eyes meet once again you freeze- you never knew why people were so wrapped up in rumors and gossip, but you had heard one a while back… that the prince of lupisvine’s eyes were as cold as ice, like the land he came from.

while whispers of his frightening gaze and sharp features may be based in truth, his eyes soaking in yours made you feel as if you were melting- the warm, relaxing smile he had contrasting his straight posture and tense shoulders.

“if you’d like, we could enter the ball together” his voice pulled you out of your trance, and as he awaited your answer you thought of all of the consequences entering together would have. your mother and sister’s worry turning into squealing, eager to have you marry the poor man was one. your father upset that you had never mentioned someone was courting you (which the prince was not doing) while he was searching for suitors was another consequence.

oh, and most importantly of all- what you two walking in together, arms linked, would do to the political state of the four nations. you were the precious princess of the sea! you were oceania’s lovely, pure heir to the throne; if anyone were to lay a hand on you they’d be dead before they could take another breath! little did they know that you had a tendency to be anything but elegant, with a foul mouth and two left feet.

and prince of lupusvine- well he… he was perfect. a respectable gentleman who gives his all to his nation, who works to make their nation a better place. the other three countries may whisper and mock; thinking him a serious, scary soon-to-be king with a devotion to law and order, but he was a far more gentle and loving prince than that. everyone in lupusvine was aware of the truth, and you, placing your hand on his arm, now also knew the truth.

“yes, i would, in fact, like that very much.” you flash him your charming smile that everyone in oceania was in love with and enter the hall together.

the consequences you had thought up in your mind paled in comparison to the reactions of everyone as you two enter. shocked expressions, gasps, and even what sounded like a glass shattering filled the room as you make your entrance and walk down the stairs. hushed tones greet you at the bottom, and as you and tenya part ways, you are greeted by the royal family of oceania- your mother, father, and sister.

“you do realize what that looks like, right?” your sister, isla, barked at you. she had a knack for showing her care and love in the worst ways possible, but you knew her words weren’t meant to instigate some sort of argument.

“no, i don't, actually.” you shrug, before your father gently grabs you by the arms

“the prince of lupusvine is no husband for my daughter, i will not allow it until i know more about that boy and what he might be scheming”

“scheming? oh for the love of our goddess, dad, i'm not going to marry him! we simply entered together” you shake his hands off of you.

your mother cut in with a huff, worsening your family’s freak out. “with how late the both of you were it looked like some sort of… surprise marriage announcement!” often, when your mother becomes flustered, or worried, her extensive, fancy vocabulary is thrown out the window.

“its like you were telling all of xenos ‘hey, look at me put my hand on this big strong rich prince oh also remember how we’re both looking for other royal families to marry into, mostly for political reasons?’” your sister rambles on, mocking your manner of speaking.

“oh, whatever, it’s not really like it matters. the four nations are allies now anyways, what’s the issue, even if i were to be seeing him?” all three of your overprotective family members scoff and walk away, clearly getting the message that their worries wont get through to you. spotting the prince again, you make your way over to him before frantically attempting to walk away as the crowd parts for you only to reveal his very serious and scary family having a discussion with him. instead of walking away towards your sister, you turn and smash face first into- actually, you don’t even realize you just walked into the prince of ambrosia, todoroki shoto, until you look up at him.

“oh my goddess, i'm so sorry” you bow at him deeply, and his father tells you not to worry about it as they continue walking towards the royal family of lupusvine. while the four nations all had their issues with each other, lupusvine and ambrosia have made deals with one another before, and oceania and ruritania were on decent terms. as king enji spoke with the king of lupusvine, shoto gave you a quick wave, before standing next to tenya rather than his father.

you’ve already just about had enough with the party when you decide it’s better for everyone if you were to just leave. you leave the ball and head to lucerne’s garden, a small garden and pond built right into the center of the castle, named after a dragon (which have all since vanished from xenos) the goddess kept as a companion. sitting at the edge of the pond, you’re lost in thought as a hand touches your shoulder.

“it’s nice to see you again, princess.” tenya’s voice just barely over a whisper as he sits next to you.

“no, you’ll get your suit dirty-” you start, before he shakes his head.

“perhaps, but the servants in your castle seem to be extraordinary at their job- i don't think i saw even a drop of water on the ground as i sat down.” he laughs, continuing to look around at the spotless scenery, none of the plants having even a speck of brown, and not one part of the ground dusty or dirty.

“well well well, and here i thought mr. prince of lupusvine was supposed to be a stickler for rules! i’d expect a ‘no sitting on the ground with your gown on!’ from you.” you smirk, messing with decorations sewn onto your dress.

“I may be a little uptight, but i don’t quite think there's a rule for sitting on the ground with a dress on..” you laugh as he trails off in thought. “is that lucerne? companion of kirai?” he asks, pointing at the statue of a dragon looming over the pond.

citizens of lupusvine tend to refer to the goddess of water as “kirai”, due to their god calling her that every time he mentioned her, as recorded on slabs from ancient times. that, along with other reasons, is why many researchers and history professors believe that the goddess of water and the god of wind were in a romantic relationship, whether permanently or just for a certain period of time. you nod and face him as he continues “i wish dragons still existed. i learned, when i was younger, that dragons went extinct due to humans.”

your eyes widen, flickering towards the statue of lucerne. “because of us?”

“yes.” he whispers, before the two of you fall into comfortable silence. soon, footsteps can be heard behind the two of you. turning around to see who is coming, you see todoroki shoto, prince of ambrosia, as well as the princess of ruritania, uraraka ochako.

“thank goodness we saw you out here! our parents are so professional and uptight at these things, it's almost suffocating.” ochako gasps the fresh air in, sitting next to you as shoto sits at a nearby bench.

“i dont get why they hate each other so much.” shoto muttered under his breath and everyone let out sighs and nods. while all of you knew the history behind the nations’ feuds and didn’t quite know each other, you four could easily bond over your general disdain for the grudges your families had towards each other.

suddenly, you picked yourself up from the ground and stared at the other three determinedly. “we should find out what happened to lucerne and the dragons! it would be so fu-”

“we already know what happened to the dragons.” shoto cuts you off

“well then what is it?” you huff, annoyed that you were cut off.

as shoto shrugged, tenya started telling the story. “the four gods gave a box each to the inhabitants of xenos and told them to not open them, even if they’re curious about what’s inside.”

“oh no, they opened the boxes” you gasp, shaking your head.

“yes, they opened the boxes. the first three boxes they opened had beautiful things we couldn't even begin to imagine the world without, so, without thinking, they opened the last box. a puff of smoke came out the box upon opening it, and then every dragon on xenos turned to stone. there’s no cure, no answers, no reason as to why the gods would do that, especially when the dragons were so loved by the humans and gods alike.”

“how cliche” shoto sighs.

“do you think the dragons can hear us?” ochako gets up, trying to get closer to touch lucerne. “lucerne, do you think i should marry izuku midoriya, from ylvern, or bakugo katsuki from angria?”

todoroki scoffs, and you note the jealous glint in his eyes. “lucerne’s not gonna come back to life to answer which royal family you should marry into” he gets up, ready to head back inside.

“speaking of marriage…. tenya, y/n, what was that entrance~?” ochako skips back to your side, crouching down.

“nothing, we just met before walking inside and decided to enter together; it's simply none of your concern” you ramble on, refusing to face either tenya or ochako, opting to stare at a lily pad floating on the water.

“oh really?” ochako squints, before getting up. “if you say so, y/n”

“yes i do say so” you nod violently, ochako humming as she walks towards shoto to walk back inside together. exchanging quiet ‘see you later’s, they leave you and tenya alone again.

“would it really be a bad idea for us to get married?” his words making you choke on air. “not like that! it was just a question!!” he flails his arms around, the two of you so very flustered.

you both collect yourself and you think for a bit before answering “i think our parents are probably just suspicious of each other, still. i mean if you think about it, you could say we’re already fated to be” you half joke, expecting more arm flailing, only to receive a hum.

“ah, you mean the theory that kirai and the god of wind were lovers?” he tilts his head.

“some even say they were married, not just lovers, tenya. what, are you suggesting we be lovers?” you joke.

another round of arm flailing passes as you laugh, before he clarifies “you know what i meant, don't act a fool. i personally believe it too, there’s plenty of evidence for it.”

you nod, agreeing with him “that, and because citizens of oceania often think i look like our goddess, and your citizens say your personality matches your god. wouldn’t you say we’re- a- match?” with each pause in between your last words you get just a bit closer before pulling away, laughing once more at his flailing arms and beet red cheeks, finding your new favorite hobby.

one last moment of silence passes as you both stare at the clock in the garden, waiting until it hit 10 to join the others back inside for a speech from the nations’ kings and queens. you stole peeks at his face, your eyes quick to flicker elsewhere when they make contact with his. a minute before it was time for the speeches you two got up and walked together, checking each other for any specks of dirt (there weren’t any, head maid marina would never allow such a thing).

you stop right before the doors, facing him with a smile on your face. “after you, mr. prince, we can't go in together after the entrance we made before.” you motion towards the door and he steps closer to you, waiting. “wha- oh” you realize what he was waiting for and nod, expecting a kiss on the cheek. what he really did, was give you a light peck on the lips, before turning away and returning to the ball.

“your majesty, if i may, i don't believe that’s an appropriate way to say goodbye to someone.” head maid marina places a hand on her hip, a clipboard tucked in between her arm and the side of her waist. she tapped her foot expectantly, brows raised as you stutter, attempting to find the right words.

“please dont tell my mom!!” you blurt, and run into the banquet hall.

“you kissed prince tenya!?” the servants in the dining room all come to a halt, turning to your family, that was supposed to be having dinner.

“ugh maid marina told you!” you put your face into your hands as your sister stifles a laugh and shrinks in her chair.

your father looks like he might explode as he yells “you WHAT?”

“to be fair!! he kissed meee~” you gushed at the thought.

“how is that supposed to make me feel at ease?!” your father stands up.

“dad sit down and eat your unseasoned roasted potatoes-” you pause to raise your voice loud enough for those in the kitchen to hear, “if head maid marina wasn’t busy gossiping about my love life maybe the potatoes would’ve come out properly seasoned!” your words earned you a light whack with a handful of napkins from said maid. “and what if i choose to marry tenya? i assure you he is up to nothing but good.”

your father shook his head. “how can i be sure of that, darling?”

“cause i really like him!! pleaaaaaaase?” you beg, putting your hands together as you give him your best puppy dog eyes. your father was visibly crushed by your strategy before he straightened up and cleared his throat.

“well, if you insist, i suppose i could send the iida family an invitation to a dinner, where we can discuss this matter more in detail.”

“this is becoming more and more like an arranged marriage by the second-” you whine.

the following days were rather uneventful; helping out maid marina as an apology for offending her potatoes, polishing the statue of lucerne (which you’ve found out is essentially lucerne’s corpse) for maid veronica since you let ochako get close to it, and reading up more on xenos’ history. eventually, the day to have dinner with the iida family came and you dreaded it, as your mother told maid marina to find and dress you in a ‘lovely, light blue dress with intricate detailing’ days beforehand.

“and just why do you like prince tenya, of all princes? why not prince shoto?” with every ‘why’ that left marina’s mouth, she pulled on your corset, tightening it.

“for the love of our holy goddess please maid marina please show me mercy” you plead.

“i did show you mercy, when i made extra of your favorite side dish because the main dish of this evening is the royal jade carp, which i know you hate with every fiber of your being” you whine at her rebuttal (and another tug at the corset) before she finally ties it off at the end.

“done. let maid veronica finish getting you ready while i finish the preparations. your future husband should be here soon.” she smooths out her uniform before leaving the room.

“this feels like an arranged marriage, y/n.” veronica sighs, readjusting your hair.

“it wasn’t supposed to be” you groan and attempt to slouch, the corset compressing your insides not allowing you to.

“well, you both seem to like each other, so at least you’ll be marrying someone you might actually grow to love” veronica shrugged, tying a bow on your dress.

“you know, you’re right, vero! it isn’t all that bad, considering some people don't have that luxury.” you smile at your new found confidence.

“oh goddess, like that poor queen of ambrosia. i heard her marriage to king enji turned sour such a long time ago yet they stayed together for political reasons, you know?”

you gasped at veronica’s words “is veronica gossiping on the job?”

veronica smacks her lips annoyed. “its small talk, young lady, not gossiping.”

you quickly made your way down the stairs and towards the dining hall before tenya and his family arrived. your sister, isla, stood at the doors, surprised to see you so dressed up. “this is a dinner to possibly discuss a marriage, not the wedding day itself” she chuckles, leading you to your seat and sitting down in front of you. “i, myself have found someone to talk to as well.”

“oh really?” you raise your eyebrows, amused.

she nods, smiling “a prince named mirio to-” the doors open and the two of you stand up to greet the iida family, led to the dining room by your parents.

“its nice to see you again” tenya greeted you with a kiss to your hand as the rest of your families mingled. you all ate, discussed feelings over the nations becoming allies and you and tenya’s plans for the future.

“wanna see something?” you grab tenya’s hand after the dinner ended, the rest of your family deciding to continue to chat away as you showed tenya around the castle.

you lead him to your room, and as he starts to stutter, telling you “perhaps this step can wait? a bit?” you shake your head.

“that’s not why i’m bringing you in here, but i like the way you’re thinkin” you tease, before stopping in front of a tank.

“is that an axolotl?” tenya gasps, his free hand gently pressing against the glass.

“yes, that’s pudding.” you nod, before leading him over to another tank. “and this is noodle, she’s an oceanian black kingsnake.”

“you like snakes?” he questioned you.

“not really, but when i found her in lucerne’s garden she was in pretty bad condition. she took a liking to me so i just toughed it out and took her in.” you shrug, before leading him to your bed.

once again objecting to any dirty things you’d try to do to him, you stop him. “first of all, i wouldn't do anything you aren't comfortable with, and second, that's not why i brought you here, okay? now this little man right here is nugget!” you lift one of the many blankets on your bed to reveal a tiny, black poodle with long legs. “and thiiiiis,” you move to another side of your bed “is pepper!” a white cat’s face peeks out of the blankets it's piled under, reaching a paw out to greet the prince before returning to its sleep hole.

“i didn't expect you to be such an animal lover.” he says on your walk back to the dining hall.

“it isn’t really that i'm an animal lover, the axolotl was a gift from an organization that keeps endangered animals safe after i made a large donation. the other three were strays that the maids found in lucerne’s garden. something about the lucerne draws animals to her.” you shrug, pondering what might be the reason animals were often found in the garden. Something that you had noticed before but never fully paid attention to was the way tenya’s tail wagged when you two were alone. during both the ball and dinner his tail was stiff and straight, as if he was making an active effort to not draw attention to it. it was nice to know that he didn’t care much about little things like that alone with you.

it was still a bit frustrating how quickly your families wanted you two to get to know each other and get married. while dating for civilians can last many years before even mentioning marriage, sometimes royals have all their wedding preparations read before their first meeting.

“at least we enjoy each others’ presence.” tenya’s words cut through your cluttered mind.

“what?” you blurt, and he laughs softly.

“at least we like each other, you know? we could’ve been forced to marry snooty, arrogant people. instead we get to be somewhat forcefully married to each other.”

“it’s almost like you can read my mind” you suggest jokingly, before leading him to sit down for more quiet time together. “it sucks that we’re being rushed into things, but we can go at our own pace, even if we may be wife and husband while we’re still just going on our first few dates.” he nods at your words with a smile, sighing before getting up, with his hand in yours, to head back inside the dining room.

“you’re getting married to the prince of angria? oh poor thing” various princesses reacted to ochako’s words, wishing her luck on her marriage to bakugo katsuki, another prince.

“it's not all that bad!” she reasoned with them, only for them to disagree.

“not all that bad? the boy’s got anger issues and will probably be a terrible ruler! oh sweet girl he’s going to ruin you, and not in the good way.” some random princess teases. you were currently at a tea party being held in ruritania, by the princess, ochako. you noticed the way her shoulders lowered at their words, each time they insulted him only making her more upset.

“you never know, perhaps he’s actually nice if you get to know him. besides, it isn't our place to judge, seeing as most of us have rather terrible fiancées as well.” you comment, drinking your tea. you notice the smile growing on ochako’s face, a small, silent thank you for sticking up for her.

“of course you’d know about terrible fiancées, soon-to-be mrs. tenya iida” the fiancée of prince sero (oh, poor poor sero) laughs out.

“and i'm sure prince sero knows a lot about terrible fiancées as well.” you insult back.

“did you see the face she made after you said that?!” ochako giggled as you two were walking to her room. the tea party finished rather quickly after your response to princess ophelia’s insult had her running out in rage.

“that’s what she gets. i mean come on, she’s one to talk about me having a terrible fiancée when she is a terrible fiancée” you shrug, the grin on your face slowly forming as you hold in a laugh. “i can’t believe you and bakugo are getting married though! i thought that your parents would surely choose midoriya of ylvern!”

“well, ylvern’s nice n all, and i'm sure midoriya’s absolutely wonderful-” there was the tiniest bit of yearning in her voice when speaking of the prince. “-but angria has more resources. its a better choice in almost every aspect except for the fact that it’s bakugo katsuki that i'm marrying.” she realized what she said and shook her head quickly “no, i'm going to be optimistic! i know everything will turn out fine, and my marriage to him will end up being a better idea.”

“you sound like you’re trying to convince yourself, ‘chako.” you sit on her bed and watch as her cheeks grow redder and redder

“no! i’m! not! don’t do that y/n!” she pouts “i was one hundred percent supportive when you announced you’d marry tenya!”

“and i'm thankful for that-” you raise your hands up in your defense.

“so don't tease me about my marriage!” you laugh, patting her shoulder

“okay, okay, relax!” huffing, you and ochako continue to talk the night away; about marriage, wedding preparations, and anything else you two could think of.

as the days go by, you see more of tenya, each time falling in love with him more and more. you also see ochako more, meeting her fiancée bakugo, and more of todoroki, who’s been spending much of his time rejecting princesses and enjoying the presence of the prince of ylvern, midoriya. one of the worst days was the day your mothers dress was modified to your size and changed to be more modern, head maid marina threatening to poke you as she sewed if you didn't stop slouching. the worst day, however, was the day maid veronica, maid marina, and maid yalani sat with you and talked about what would happen on your wedding night (goddess have mercy on your soul, they thought you didn’t know a thing about sex).

but, as preparations went on, and as you spent time with tenya, you couldn’t be happier. he caught you whenever you fell, which happened many times while learning dances, and he laughed with you whenever everyone else found you unladylike, like when you spit out food while trying to figure out what would be served to the guests, not realizing what you had tasted was made with your least favorite food, royal jade carp. he was traditional, strict, yet had a soft side to him that took you step by step through everything, never failing to whisper compliments in your ear or reassure you that you’re doing great.

everything was perfect, every effort made filled with love and pure intentions, every moment nothing less than a beautiful experience, until the night before the wedding, when everything took a sharp turn for the worst.

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kookie-doughs · 4 years ago

Text

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 17: I Swim For The First Time...?

It was Annabeth's idea. She loaded us into the back of a Vegas taxi as if we actually had money, and told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."

The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front." "You accept casino debit cards?" Annabeth asked. He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first." Annabeth handed him her green Lotus Cash card. He looked at it skeptically. "Swipe it," Annabeth invited. He did.

His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign. The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at us, his eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles... uh, Your Highness?" "The Santa Monica Pier." Annabeth sat up a little straighter. I could tell she liked the "Your Highness" thing. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change." Maybe she shouldn't have told him that. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert. On the road, we had plenty of time to talk. Percy told us about his latest dream. The Lotus Casino seemed to have short-circuited my memory. I couldn't recall what the invisible servant's voice had sounded like, though I was sure it was somebody I knew. The servant had called the monster in the pit something other than "my lord" ... some special name or title.... "The Silent One?" Annabeth suggested. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades." "Maybe..." he said.

"That throne room sounds like Hades's," Grover said. "That's the way it's usually described." He shook my head. "Something's wrong. The throne room wasn't the main part of the dream. And that voice from the pit... I don't know. It just didn't feel like a god's voice."

The crooked one... Annabeth's eyes widened. And looked at Percy. Who had a look of realization. "What?" I asked. "Oh... nothing. I was just—No, it has to be Hades. Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong—" "Like what?" "I—I don't know," she said. "But if he stole Zeus's symbol of power from Olympus, and the gods were hunting him, I mean, a lot of things could go wrong. So this thief had to hide the bolt, or he lost it somehow. Anyway, he failed to bring it to Hades. That's what the voice said in your dream, right? The guy failed. That would explain what the Furies were searching for when they came after us on the bus. Maybe they thought we had retrieved the bolt." I wasn't sure what was wrong with her. She looked pale. "But if Percy already retrieved the bolt," I said, "why would we be traveling to the Underworld?" "To threaten Hades," Grover suggested. "To bribe or blackmail him into getting your parents back." I whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat." "Why, thank you."

"Only mine is there. I'd rather get Y/N's than mine." Percy said gripping my hand.

"Huh?"

"You lost them thanks to me." He smiled weakly. "A-Anyways, the thing in the pit said it was waiting for two items," I reminded. "If the master bolt is one, what's the other?" Grover shook his head, clearly mystified. Annabeth was looking at me as if she knew my next question, and was silently willing me not to ask it.

I have every answers. I could tell you. What do you wish to know? We are to help one another after all...

Could you tell me how I could save my parents?

Save them? As I told you only we could save them. Being there, you'd know your only option. Only you could do it. Do you wish to know more?

What's this quest?

A trap. Next one?

Who is my parent?

Hahaha, that is a question I shan't answer. Just believe in all gods. Befriend them and you'll know. You could trust them all.

Even Zeus, Hades and Poseidon? They kinda suck...

Unless you're positive they aren't your parent, you don’t have to.

Yeah, can I have like... I don't know... I kinda want Hephaestus. He seems coolest. I an NOT blessed in like singing and all that so I can’t be Apollo's.

I've already given you a parent. My apologies. The one I chose would be... quite a friend. Would you want to know more?

Well not re---

"Y/NN!! Ask more about the quest and Percy's dream!!!" I hear Annabeth scream at my ear.

"Oh my gods! Don't scream at my ear!" I yelled pushing her away. "What do you mean ask about Percy's dream? Who will I ask? The driver?"

"You----"

"She can't remember whenever that happens." Percy explained. "They already told us."

"What are you guys talking about??"

"Nothing. We were thinking about the pit..." Annabeth sighed.

"You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?" I asked her. "I mean, if it isn't Hades?" "Y/N... let's not talk about it. Because if it isn't Hades... No. It has to be Hades." Wasteland rolled by. We passed a sign that said CALIFORNIA STATE LINE, 12 MILES. The problem was: we were hurtling toward the Underworld at ninety-five miles an hour, betting that Hades had the master bolt. If we got there and found out we were wrong, we wouldn't have time to correct ourselves. The solstice deadline would pass and war would begin. "The answer is in the Underworld," Annabeth assured us. "You saw spirits of the dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing." She tried to boost our morale by suggesting clever strategies for getting into the Land of the Dead, but my heart wasn't in it. There were just too many unknown factors. It was like cramming for a test without knowing the subject. And believe me, I'd done that enough times. The cab sped west. Every gust of wind through Death Valley sounded like a spirit of the dead. Every time the brakes hissed on an eighteen-wheeler, it reminded me of Echidna's reptilian voice. At sunset, the taxi dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the Pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave. Grover, Annabeth, Percy, and I walked down to the edge of the surf. "What now?" Annabeth asked. The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I thought about how long it had been since I'd stood on the beach at Montauk, on the opposite side of the country, looking out at a different sea. I felt anxious being near the water. Percy took my hand.

"What?" I said slowly pulling away from him.

"Trust me and come with me." He said looking at me in the eye. "Percy," Annabeth said. "That's stupid! She can barely stay alive up here!"

"If the water pulls her could you save her?" He glared at the two. "As long as she holds me she'll be safe." He gripped my hand.

"I-I'll trust you... But I have to make sure you won't let me drown... I-I need---" Annabeth then sighed and walked over to us taking our wrist.

"If she drowns I am totally not siding on you during the war." She hissed at Percy while tying Aphrodite's scarf on our wrist.

"how do you have that?" Percy asked.

"I forgot I gave it to her." With our wrist attached by a cloth, he held my hand tight then we kept walking, up to my waist, then my chest.

"I'm scared..." I gulped. Percy pulled me closer. That's when my head went under. I held my breath at first. It's difficult to intentionally inhale water. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I gasped. Sure enough, I could breathe normally. Percy was smiling at me, with his arms still around me. We walked down into the shoals. I shouldn't have been able to see through the murk, but somehow I could tell where everything was. I could sense the rolling texture of the bottom. I could make out sand-dollar colonies dotting the sandbars. I could even see the currents, warm and cold streams swirling together. I felt something rub against my leg. I looked down and almost shot out of the water like a ballistic missile. Sliding along beside me was a five-foot-long mako shark. I almost screamed until I saw how cute it was. The thing wasn't attacking. It was nuzzling me. Heeling like a dog. Tentatively, I touched its dorsal fin. It bucked a little, as if inviting me to hold tighter. Percy took my hand and wrapped it on the fin, he grabbed the fin with both hands, so I followed his actions. It took off, pulling us along. The shark carried us down into the darkness. It deposited us at the edge of the ocean proper, where the sand bank dropped off into a huge chasm. It was like standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon at midnight, not being able to see much, but knowing the void was right there. The surface shimmered maybe a hundred and fifty feet above. I knew I should've been crushed by the pressure. Then again, I shouldn't have been able to breathe. I wondered if there was a limit to how deep I could go, if I could sink straight to the bottom of the Pacific. Then I saw something glimmering in the darkness below, growing bigger and brighter as it rose toward me. A woman's voice, "Percy Jackson." As she got closer, her shape became clearer. She had flowing black hair, a dress made of green silk. Light flickered around her, and her eyes were so distractingly beautiful I hardly noticed the stallion-sized sea horse she was riding. She dismounted. The sea horse and the mako shark whisked off and started playing something that looked like tag. The underwater lady smiled at me. "You've come far, Percy Jackson. Well done. And you brought... a friend." I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I bowed. "H-Hello..."

"You're the woman who spoke to me in the Mississippi River." Percy said. "Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but the naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court." "An... you serve in Poseidon's court?" She nodded. "It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born. We have watched you with great interest." I felt so out of placed being here so I wrapped my arms around Percy tighter. "If my father is so interested in me," Percy said, "why isn't he here? Why doesn't he speak to me?" A cold current rose out of the depths. "Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly," the Nereid told him. "He stands at the brink of an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he is forbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favoritism." "Even to their own children?" "Especially to them. The gods can work by indirect influence only. Why do you think they're trying to find who Y/N's parent is? They helped raising her, that's why her scent is gone."

"M-My Olympian parent raised me? I don't remember anyone... I'm pretty sure neither my mom or dad are Olympians... or Greek."

"Well that is what they're trying to figure out."

"Well, what's my father doing then?"

"That is why I give you a warning, and a gift."

She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm. "I know you journey to Hades's realm," she said. "Few mortals have ever done this and survived: Orpheus, who had great music skill; Hercules, who had great strength; Houdini, who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you have these talents?" "Urn... no, ma'am." "Ah, but you have something else, Percy. You have gifts you have only begun to know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive to manhood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time. Therefore take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet." "What will happen?" "That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

Percy took the three pearls and pocketed it. "Oh... but there are four of us. We'll need one more."

She looked at me and Percy. Then looked at her empty palm. "Your father..."

"I'm not leaving any of them if I need to use this." Percy said firmly.

She sighed and out came another pearl. Instead of handing it to Percy she handed it to me. "The lord does not like you. He's been firm and obvious of that fact. But... as his son refuse to leave you..."

I took the pearl reluctantly and thanked her. "What about the warning?" Her eyes flickered with green light. "Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can, make you mistrust your own judgment. Once you are in his realm, he will never willingly let you leave. Keep faith. Good luck, Percy Jackson." She summoned her sea horse and rode toward the void. "Wait!" Percy called. "At the river, you said not to trust the gifts. What gifts?" "Good-bye, young hero," she called back, her voice fading into the depths. "You must listen to your heart." She became a speck of glowing green, and then she was gone. "Your dad... must really hate me to leave me in Underworld when worse comes to worse..." I muttered burying my face on his neck.

"Don't worry... I won't let him hurt you, just because whoever your parent is raised you." He kicked upward toward the shore. When we reached the beach, our clothes dried instantly. Percy told Grover and Annabeth what had happened, and showed them the pearls. Annabeth grimaced. "No gift comes without a price. Not to mention Y/N is hated." "They were free." "No." She shook her head. "'There is no such thing as a free lunch.' That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait." On that happy thought, we turned our backs on the sea. With some spare change from Ares's backpack, we took the bus into West Hollywood. We showed the driver the Underworld address slip we'd taken from Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium, but he'd never heard of DOA Recording Studios.

"You remind me of somebody I saw on TV," he told Percy. "You a child actor or something?" "Uh ... I'm a stunt double ... for a lot of child actors." "Oh! That explains it." We thanked him and got off quickly at the next stop. We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to know where it was. It didn't appear in the phone book. Twice, we ducked into alleys to avoid cop cars. Percy froze in front of an appliance-store window because a television was playing an interview with somebody

"—my stepdad, Smelly Gabe." He explained.

He was talking to Barbara Walters—I mean, as if he were some kind of huge celebrity. She was interviewing him in our apartment, in the middle of a poker game, and there was a young blond lady sitting next to him, patting his hand. A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counselor, I'd be a wreck. My stepson took everything I cared about. My wife... my Camaro... I—I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it." "There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An adolescent boy with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver. He has taken a young girl that goes by Y/N L/N with her." The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares. "Who are the two other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Percy Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America." "C'mon," Grover told me. He hauled us away.

It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a New Yorker. I don't scare easy. But L.A. had a totally different feel from New York. Back home, everything seemed close. It didn't matter how big the city was, you could get anywhere without getting lost. The street pattern and the subway made sense. There was a system to how things worked. A kid could be safe as long as he wasn't stupid. L.A. wasn't like that. It was spread out, chaotic, hard to move around. It reminded me of Ares. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too. I didn't know how we were ever going to find the entrance to the Underworld by tomorrow, the summer solstice. We walked past gangbangers, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging. As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you." Like an idiot, I stopped. Before I knew it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids had circled us. Six of them in all—white kids with expensive clothes and mean faces. Like the kids at Yancy Academy: rich brats playing at being bad boys. Instinctively, I drew my knife. When the knife appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leader was either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at me with a switchblade.

Percy then pulled me behind him and swung Riptide. The kid yelped. But he must've been one hundred percent mortal, because the blade passed harmlessly right through his chest. He looked down. "What the..." I figured I had about three seconds before his shock turned to anger. "Run!" I screamed taking Percy's hand. We pushed two kids out of the way and raced down the street, not knowing where we were going. We turned a sharp corner. "There!" Annabeth shouted. Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. The sign above the door said something like CRSTUY'S WATRE BDE ALPACE. "Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover translated. It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but this definitely qualified. We burst through the doors, ran behind a water bed, and ducked. A split second later, the gang kids ran past outside. "I think we lost them," Grover panted. A voice behind us boomed, "Lost who?" We all jumped. Standing behind us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to. His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck—I couldn't even count them. "I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile. I resisted the urge to say, Yes, you are. "Sorry to barge in," Percy told him. "We were just, um, browsing." "You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?" I was about to say No, thanks, when he put a huge paw on my shoulder and steered me deeper into the showroom. There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size. "This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored Jell-O. "Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, any-way. "Um," Percy said, "I don't think..." "Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and dove in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool." "Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost." "Almost what?" I asked. He looked at Annabeth. "Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit." Annabeth said, "But what—" He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and led her over to the Safari Deluxe model with teakwood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patterned comforter. When Annabeth didn't want to lie down, Crusty pushed her. "Hey!" she protested. Crusty snapped his fingers. "Ergo!" Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Annabeth, holding her to the mattress. Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, and lashed him down. "N-not c-c-cool!" he yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "N-not c-cool a-at all!" The giant looked at Annabeth, then turned toward me and Percy to grin. "Almost, darn it." I tried to step away, but his hand shot out and clamped around the back of my neck. "Whoa, kid. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a sec." "Let my friends go." "Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first." "What do you mean?" "All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. Got to make them fit." Annabeth and Grover kept struggling. "Can't stand imperfect measurements," Crusty muttered. "Ergo!" A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapping around Grover and Annabeth's ankles, then around their armpits. The ropes started tightening, pulling my friends from both ends. "Don't worry," Crusty told us, "These are stretching jobs. Maybe three extra inches on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bed you like, huh?" "Percy! Y/N!" Grover yelled. My mind was racing. I knew I couldn't take on this giant water-bed salesman alone. He would snap my neck before I ever got my sword out. "Your real name's not Crusty, is it?" Percy asked. "Legally, it's Procrustes," he admitted. "The Stretcher," I said. I remembered the story: the giant who'd tried to kill Theseus with excess hospitality on his way to Athens. "Yeah," the salesman said. "But who can pronounce Procrustes? Bad for business. Now 'Crusty,' anybody can say that." "You're right. It's got a good ring to it." His eyes lit up. "You think so?" "Oh, absolutely," I said. "And the workmanship on these beds? Fabulous!"

Percy looked at me weirdly. When I gave him a nod he must've understood. He got closer to hold my arm. Crusty grinned hugely, his fingers still didn't loosen on my neck. "I tell my customers that. Every time. Nobody bothers to look at the workmanship. How many built-in Lava Lamp headboards have you seen?" "Not too many." "That's right!" "Y/N!" Annabeth yelled. "What are you doing?" "Don't mind her," Percy told Procrustes. "She's impossible." The giant laughed. "All my customers are. Never six feet exactly. So inconsiderate. And then they complain about the fitting." "What do you do if they're longer than six feet?" "Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix." He let go of my neck, but before I could react, he reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass axe. He said, "I just center the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end." "Ah," Percy said, swallowing hard. "Sensible." "I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!" The ropes were really stretching my friends now. Annabeth was turning pale. Grover made gurgling sounds, like a strangled goose. "So, Crusty..." I said, trying to keep my voice light. I glanced at the sales tag on the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special. "Does this one really have dynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?" "Absolutely. Try it out." "Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even for a big guy like you? No waves at all?" "Guaranteed." "No way." "Way." "Show me." He sat down eagerly on the bed, patted the mattress. "No waves. See?" I snapped my fingers. "Ergo." Ropes lashed around Crusty and flattened him against the mattress. "Hey!" he yelled. "Center him just right," I said. The ropes readjusted themselves at my command. Crusty's whole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom. "No!" he said. "Wait! This is just a demo." Percy uncapped Riptide. "A few simple adjustments ..." "You drive a hard bargain," he told us. "I'll give you thirty percent off on selected floor models.'" "I think I'll start with the top." Percy raised my sword. "No money down! No interest for six months!" He swung the sword. Crusty stopped making offers. I cut the ropes on the other beds. Annabeth and Grover got to their feet, groaning and wincing and cursing me a lot. "You look taller," I said. "Very funny," Annabeth said. "Be faster next time."

Percy looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was an advertisement for Hermes Delivery Service, and another for the All-New Compendium of L.A. Area Monsters—"The only Monstrous Yellow Pages you'll ever need!" Under that, a bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios, offering commissions for heroes' souls. "We are always looking for new talent!" DOA's address was right underneath with a map. "Come on," Percy said. "Give us a minute," Grover complained. "We were almost stretched to death.'" "Then you're ready for the Underworld," I said. "It's only a block from here."

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 4 years ago

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Neither of them said anything for a long minute. Murky water dripping carelessly into a puddle somewhere.

Asivus looked Astor up and down, taking him in. He then nodded, before kicking his legs back out and resting his arms behind his head, resuming his entertainment of staring at the wall. This time he put on the smile.

“Welp! I was kinda hoping a couple decades imprisonment would do the trick, but execution is fine too, I guess. Swiftness and punctuality and all that.” He let out a fake yawn. “Though you’re wasting your time if you’re looking to give a prayer. I intend to go out without asking the gods for anything.”

“I’m not a priest.” Astor said bluntly.

Siv cocked an eyebrow. “Uh…...n...nun—?”

“What happened to you, Assivus?”

“Ahhhh…And interrogation…” He nodded up and down again. “Then I’ll tell you what I told the other guy—you can goooooooo suck my dick.”

Siv turned to the side, fiddling with something metal in his right pocket, the rattling echoing on the stone floor. He finally pulled out an old flask, shaking it back and for, the sound revealing a little less than a third of alcohol left in the container. He shook it again and looked at the seer.

“Snuck this bad boy in, earlier! I know my way around a pat down or two, heheh…” He took a swig before gesturing towards Astor again. “How ‘bout you, choir man? Got any sorrows to drown?”

“A kind offer, but I actually value my health,” he replied. “You got any other contraband keeping you company, then?”

He tensed, but recovered so quickly Astor nearly thought he imagined it. Asivus then let out a laugh before taking another drink and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand—which despite the grime, was probably the cleanest part of his person.

“So they took the nearest homeless looking pal and sent them down to ask me shit...that’s certainly new.” He studied the seer again. “What? We supposed to bond over our greasy hair? Lack of fashion?” Another beat of silence. “...I’ll admit, it’s working a bit!” He laughed, leaning back against the wall.

Astor sighed silently, before cutting to the chase. “You’re being charged with manslaughter—the rampaging Guardian that destroyed part of the castle. But I know it wasn’t you.” Water dripped in the back end of the cell. “I want you to tell me about the malice.”

One of the cells down the corridor rattled, some Lizalfo shifting in it’s sleep. The echoing metal left a sense of unease in the air.

“Listen…” Assivus’s voice dropped to a dangerously quiet tone. “I’m not looking for a defense attorney, and I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. So you should probably get on your way before you miss your sermon.” He glared at Astor, blue eyes seemingly a shade darker.

“There were timelines where the world ends today, you know.” He stepped closer to the cell bars. “The princess far too weak to awaken her powers, the Calamity having grown just strong enough to erupt around the castle, infecting stone and flesh alike.”

“Well whatareya doing here, then, Mr. Doomsday?” Assivus cocked his head to the side. “If the world’s supposed to end, shouldn’t you be...out there? Maybe holding an ‘End is Nigh’ sign or something?”

“It doesn’t end for us, though. I’ve spent my life studying the endeavours and feats that await this world and the next. We’ve luckily still got a few years before hell starts to walk.” Astor stepped closer again, unwavering to Assivus’ gaze. “I’m merely curious about how your little disturbance—or perhaps, failure of a disturbance—coincides with the Calamity’s potential return.”

“I fucked with some Sheikah Tech. Guardian got funky. Brat nephew saves the day. I get arrested. Don’t remember running into any ancient evils on this little joy ride.”

“You and I both know the official report is made-up bullshit. I imagine your spite is derived from the unfairness of the situation.” He tucked his hair behind his ears. “Guardians can’t be corrupted through mechanical means. They’re forces crafted to take on ancient magical forces, and as such are engrained with magical components. They don’t just break out into violence over a broken gear, much less be purposefully made to go against their ancient purposes.” He scoffed at the smirk on Asivus’ face. “Especially not by some idiot like you.” Asivus placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended.

“In addition,” Astor continued, “I imagine your father didn’t have purple and gold slitted eyes. So that trait you occasionally have is certainly suspect.”

Assivus blinked, and the creeping colors in his eyes faded along with his confident smirk. He rubbed his blue eyes and sighed.

“Hey well that’s just rude,” Siv said, playfully. “Maybe I got it from my mom.”

Astor clicked his tongue, before clenching his jaw.

“Welp, you’re certainly a smarter cookie than I gave you credit for, purple man.” Asivus crossed his legs—criss-cross-applesauce—and turned completely too Astor. “But the fact of the matter is, I don’t really care anymore. And I don’t know why you care. Knowing doesn’t change anything for your little predictions, does it?”

The prophet’s face remained unreadable. Siv started scratching his head. “You know I do remember you now...I’ve seen you around. You used to pester the Dick-Rhoam a bunch. Walking around with your little maps and star charts or whatever...yeah, yeah. The weirdo that would tell the rich bastards around here that they were useless. Very bitter insults, I respect it! Suppose some heroes wear robes over capes.”

“It’s not about insults, it’s the truth.” Astor narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying to help you, but rest assured, we all are doomed to be consumed by the Calamity.”

There was silence between them again, but the slight smile on Siv’s face didn’t fade.

“You know, this whole dark and edgy doomsday act is great and all, don’t get me wrong. But since it’s just us alone here there’s no need to keep up the act. I mean, I’m pretty sure I saw you left that anonymous gift of exotic bird encyclopedias in Larc’s office last year.” Astor’s jaw tightened and Siv winked. “And I know because he claimed he saw me leave it—and I don’t buy books, ever. Might wanna change your wardrobe, you wouldn’t wanna be confused as the homeless orator—”

“The Malice.” The seer cut in. “How’d you get it?”

“Ah, it all started when I was born in Rauru Settlement to Lord Ligero Arist—”

“I mean how did you manifest it?” He articulated. “Everyone has malice, yes. But it takes something else to make it a physical power. Much less enough to infect Sheikah Technology.”

Asivus tapped his chin for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. “Can’t I just perish in peace? The ol’ axe seems for sharper conversation.”

“Look, I just want...I want to…” Astor shook his head, restarting. “Any information I get is something I can use to make our future demise just slightly more bearable for whatever unlucky generation lives. Don’t you care about that?”

“Nope! Got no kids. Larc and his brats either didn’t care to look at me, or Larc’s too much of a spineless brother to care about me over the rules. Soooo, I’m all for looking out for me, myself, and I, thank you very much.” He tapped his foot against the stone floor. “Plus, I had an ex that used his kids to scam me of 6k rupees in a pocket monster match a while back, so I’m still recovering from that.”

“Can I trade you then? What do you want? If I come back here with a good wine, will your lips loosen?” Astor was already mentally planning who he could buy a bottle from without a paper trail, already expecting Siv to say yes.

Water continued to drip and drip and drip. Asivus sighed.

“...Nah.” Astor raised an eyebrow. “I’m good...you can’t get what I want, anyhow…”

The seer looked at him for a long moment. Siv had gone back to staring into blank space, deep in thought about something that had caused his smirk to fade.

Let’s see...What would a dead man value? He’s got a rough relationship with his family, he’s got no friends, he’s tainted by a crime of his past…

“Are you interested in the past?” The prophet finally asked. “I know stuff about your mother. If the material doesn’t mean much to a dead man, then I’m all for a trade of information.”

Siv’s eyes suddenly shot up, specks of gold appeared in his pupils before disappearing.

“Wh..*What...?*”

“I’ll start. We’ll both trade details bit by bit, alright?” It was his turn to smirk at the look on Asivus’ face.

“I’m a bastard child.”

Asivus scrunched his eyebrows. “The fuck does that have to do with my…” His eyes suddenly widened, his mouth opening and closing. He quickly checked his flask to see how much was left, and took a swig. He stared back at Astor. “Explains a bit but...What the actual fuck.”

“Her name was Serenity. Serenity Lior Astor, from Deya Village. There, I think that’s adequate, yes?” Astor gestured down to him. “Your turn.”

Asivus scratched his chin, before standing. He drank the rest of his flask, before dropping it to the ground. “How’d she die?”

“Your father is Lord Ligero. You know how this game works.”

Siv bit his lip, for a moment, before shrugging. Suddenly, purple started to creep at the edges of his eyes, pupils thinning to gold.

“OK, magic man. But don’t be a snitch, alright?” Assivus raised one of his hands open in the air, and for a moment, Astor wondered if he was supposed to take it in a weird sideways handshake.

Then, the air swirled, a sensation of mixed euphoria and misery tainting the corridor. Cell occupants were rustling.

A glow of magenta swirled up Assivus’ forearm, before swirling in an orb hovering over his palm. The sound of it forming was like the thick, suffocating scream of hot metal as a smith plunges it into water.

The malice left as quick as it came, and hovering in Assivus’ palm was a strange, and beautiful astrolabe. It’s alluring faint glow nearly made him reach out between the bars to touch it.

“Your turn.”

#Digging In and Sinking #Assivus Hartell #???#hku spoilers

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liloelsagranger · 3 years ago

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Night shift - Chapter 2 (Rocketshipping)

Chapter 2:

The whip already raised for use, Jessiebelle reared up in front of James, who was cowering on the floor all intimidated. “Where have you been? Do you realize how worried I was?” She swung the whip and gave James a blow. James cried out in pain, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He knew that this little excursion into freedom would have consequences. Today Jessiebelle carried out the punishment with her favourite tool and throttled her fiancé without batting an eye.

“You have to be chastised, otherwise you might get ideas and leave me, and we both don’t want that, right James?”

The young man was trembling with pain. He grabbed his arm with the gaping wound. Sometimes he wanted to die, sometimes he wanted to leave this world, thoughts that had plagued him since he was a child. But the urge to be free and to be able to live his own life had prevented him from doing anything stupid until then and thinking of the waitress Jessie gave him new hope. Another lash!

“Please, Jessiebelle, stop!” he pleaded. “I’ve learned my lesson, I’ll never sneak away again, but please, have mercy!” Tears streamed down his face. Jessiebelle knelt beside her fiancé and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

“This is the only way you will learn to be obedient and please your future wife. Sometimes you have to take harsher measures to open someone’s eyes to how much love is involved here. I love you, James,” she breathed into his ear. James cried bitter tears. If this is love, what does abysmal hatred feel like?

She left him crouching on the floor, alone in his pain and thick tears of despair. James was breathing heavily, he could barely move, but he had a mission and nothing and no one, certainly not Jessiebelle’s abuse would stop him. With the last of his strength, he tried to get to his feet, left the torture cellar and sank into his pillow, tired and exhausted. Tomorrow night he would see her again, Jessie. He imagined her smile, her sapphire blue eyes, and slipped into a fitful sleep.

The day dragged on endlessly. James counted the hours until he could sneak out through the service exit. When evening came, he waited for the right moment to dismiss the property. The servants covered him, they were on his side and could no longer watch this tragedy of a relationship.

“I hope the wound heals quickly, James. This tincture is a recipe from my grandmother, it is supposed to work wonders. Look how Jessiebelle is ruining you. You are a shadow of your former self.” Maria became quite emotional at the sight of those deep cuts. She had cared for James since he was a little boy every time his parents were traveling the world again. Seeing him like this, abused, beaten and mistreated, broke her heart. James put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, Maria. There’s someone worth living for,” he put on a weak smile. “And I really need to see her,” he pressed on the tourniquet and disappeared into the night.

As James walked along the Strip, he noticed the many carnies and performers. Some were painting portraits of the tourists; others were juggling ten balls at once. Others sang and played music and thrilled the guests with little show acts. It wasn’t long before James spotted Ash, who was holding the crowd spellbound with his Pikachu. He had many tricks up his sleeve and his little Pokémon was exceptionally well trained. They were a welded team and impressed the audience with a fantastic interlude consisting of various electric attacks that Pikachu was capable of. The crowd went wild, applauded and cheered. The coins were already jingling, the bills flowing. James wanted to do more than one good deed today and secretly put a hundred-Pokédollar bill in Ash’s hat. With it, he and his friends could enjoy a delicious dinner at the Diner. Ash could hardly believe his eyes when he fished the large bill out of his hat. His mouth was open, never had he received so much tip before. His gaze wandered through the audience and stuck to James.

“Hey! Aren’t you the guy who was at the Diner last night?” he asked him. James nodded his head. “Wow! What happened to your face? Where did you get that black eye?” Ash wondered. Should James tell him a tall tale or come clean with the truth? He didn’t know this boy at all and honestly, he didn’t want to hang his private life on the big bell.

“Work accident,” James replied. Ash nodded his understanding and stowed the big money in his pocket. He had no idea that his sponsor was standing right in front of him.

“Are you coming by today? Fridays are fish day, you’ll miss out on the tastiest salmon and sea food if you don’t show up later.”

That’s when it slipped out of James’ mouth. “Is Jessie having a night shift tonight?” It was so foolish, he felt pretty stupid. What kind of impression did this make on young Ash? The boy grinned maliciously.

“Jessie is at the Diner every single night, trying to keep herself and that place afloat, it takes hard work, but she’s up to any problem. So yeah, she’ll be there. Why?”

James blushed to the roots of his hair. “Oh nothing, she just served me very well.” James shrugged it off, but one question still burned on his mind. “This man, who works with her at the Diner. Is that her boyfriend?” Ash laughed out loud.

“You mean Eddy? He’s ace. All he wants are close and deep friendships, but nothing more. A hug is still in, but not a step further. You don’t have to worry about him but let me give you some good advice. Give Jessie some space and don’t press her. Life wasn’t always easy for her.” Ash packed up his paraphernalia and disappeared down a dark side street.

Late in the evening, James hardly dared to show up at the Diner. He was visibly nervous and couldn’t quite explain to himself why. Of course, he was happy to see Jessie again and to enjoy her first-class service, to feel her warm smile on his skin. On the other hand, he didn’t want her to see him maltreated like that. But when he entered the restaurant, the atmosphere was really tense. He discovered the large bouquet of flowers that he had secretly sent her, but Jessie seemed to be anything but pleased about it. He approached the waitress and overheard snippets of conversation that made him shudder. Turning to Eddy, she showed her best friend the small note James had enclosed. “He’s trying to suck up again, that lousy guy! Signs it with a friggin J. Like I wouldn’t guess it’s that assface of Jack’s who’s supposedly trying to make up with me. Throw this bouquet in the trash can right now, Eddy! Get it out of my sight!” she commanded. This action had gone completely wrong. But how could James have known that Jessie’s ex-boyfriend’s name started with a J, too? He put a hand on her shoulder and Jessie immediately winced. “Oh, it’s you. Sorry, I didn’t see anyone enter de Diner. I’ll come right over and take your order.” She heaved a deep sigh, gave way to her anger, and kicked the trash can with all her might.

James had probably hit the wrong nerve. Now he felt all the more pathetic. He wanted to please Jessie with the bouquet and show his gratitude for the nice service, but this action was a shot in the foot.

The waitress was beside herself when she reached James’ table. Her hair was mussed, she rummaged in her apron for her tiny notebook to write down the incoming orders and could not concentrate on her guests. Something had to have happened, and James was trying to figure out how to help Jessie. It was his turn to ask her about her day. “Miserable, James. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong! But I don’t want to burden you with my stuff, I’m sure you have other things to worry about, judging by your eye…” James’ hand shot up. “I’ll get you cooling pads”, Jessie was overly attentive and James liked that feeling of being cared for by someone. There was no emotion in his relationship with Jessiebelle, except for pain and hatred. There could never be any question of love. It was an arranged engagement, and his parents didn’t care how much James suffered from Jessiebelle’s mannerisms. James wanted to offer Jessie all his attention in return, he wanted to listen to her, ask her how her day had been and talk for hours about trivial things that made him forget for a short time the strains of a botched relation.

“Here’s your coke and a turkey sandwich. Enjoy!” she forced herself to smile, but the day’s toil was gnawing away at her. James had to take the initiative. “Please, sit down for a minute. There aren’t many guests, you can certainly take a short break”, he offered her the seat next to him. She looked around, nodded wearily, and let herself sink into the chair. “What a day,” Jessie grabbed the menu card and fanned herself. He turned to her, eyeing her beautiful face, and straining to take in her every word. “Maybe you’ve already noticed, but the Strip is no place for rich snobs. Drunks and homeless people hang out here. Most of the guys who come to my Diner can’t even pay, so they charge me. Unfortunately, at the end of the month there is barely enough for the rent…and food must also be purchased. We work to the limit, staying open late to make a few Pokédollars, but it just doesn’t pay. Cassidy paid us a visit today. You remember? That broad from the newspaper? She threatened to kick us out, said she was going take the Diner away from us piece by piece. I just don’t know what to do, we barley make ends meet and we have far too few guests. What should I do? Oh, why am I talking to you, you have enough problems,” she buried her face in her hands and sighed. James stroked her cheek. He could have bought the Diner at the push of a button, but he didn’t want to be liked for his money, he wanted to be liked for who he was, the real him.

“Don’t hang your head, I could help you out after all. I don’t want a salary, a roof over my head and a warm sandwich in the evening is perfectly fine”, he smiled encouragingly at her. ‘And I can be closer to you,’ he didn’t say it out loud. She raised her head and looked at him questioningly. “What do you want in this shabby place? I’m sure you have better places to stay and besides, I really can’t pay you anything, we’re almost broke…”

James felt embarrassed. If only Jessie knew how much he wanted to escape the shackles of this terrible relationship. He wanted to be free, no matter what the cost. He wanted to have air to breathe, he wanted to laugh and have a zest for life, and that’s what he hoped to find at the Diner. With people who could show compassion, who responded to the needs of others, without batting an eye, were willing to offer a helping hand to even the most down-and-out creatures on the Strip. “You know, I have some idea about advertising and marketing. With just a piece of cardboard and my loud blabbermouth, I can double your customer base. Trust me,” he held out his hand to her and she took it. What tender, soft skin. So fragile. What have these hands had to endure? Cleaning, washing, cooking, tidying up. Such delicate hands must be protected, and James already knew how. He wished this handshake would never stop. For the first time he felt the perky waitress and it was overwhelming. A slight tug in his heart area told him where this journey would lead, and he hoped Jessie would be the destination. He had never felt so attracted to a woman before. She was different, she was a fighter that not even the worst news could wear out. For a brief moment, they looked at each other, smiling. No words were needed to describe the attraction between these two. They lost themselves in their gazes, even if it was only for a split second. Something blossomed between them, a tiny flame of hope, of forgetting and of new beginnings.

“I’m about to get out my violin and serve them a plate of spaghetti with meatballs,” Eddy murmured to one of their guests. “Yes, yes, our Jessie has sworn off love, but she seems to make a big and fat exception with James…” “Let there be fish for everyone! Let’s celebrate, my friends!” Ash rumbled into the Diner, followed by his two best mates, Misty and Brock. They immediately destroyed the intimate moment between Jessie and her new co-worker James. They both jumped up and tried to hide their blushes. Jessie cleared her throat. “Get to work, James! We don’t want to keep our guests waiting!”

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

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With Zero Power

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: E Word Count: 3382

For @spiderman-homecomeme, with the following prompts:

winter power outage

holiday smut

“I can think of one way to warm you up.”

Summary: Peter and MJ return from skating to find their apartment not quite how they left it. Between the warm fuzzies of the evening they've spent together and the holidays right around the corner, it isn't hard to find a little romance in the situation.

“I’m not saying it wasn’t beautiful,” MJ insists, “but think how much lighting a tree that size costs. With the number of homeless slowly starving in this city? With the number of children below the poverty line who are going to school in this weather—” The arm she waves is instantly layered in thick, wet snowflakes that glisten as they pass beneath a streetlight. “—without winter coats and boots?”

“With the number of college students trying to make rent with only their girlfriend to live with because their three previous roommates staged a mutiny and forced the couple out because the volume of their nighttime activities was, quote, ‘obnoxiously loud and unprecedentedly lengthy’?”

She sighs in exasperation.

“I’m making a point.”

“I agree with your point,” Peter says. “Completely. I already told May I’m volunteering with her all next weekend, and I’ll call Pepper tomorrow to see where she’s committed Stark Industries’ holiday donations.”

“And ask her to triple the amount.”

“I can suggest it,” he laughs, “but I’m not her financial advisor.”

“Mmm you should be though,” MJ says, shifting from holding his gloved hand to pulling his arm around her. “You’re so sexy when you’re redistributing the amassed wealth of a late billionaire.”

There are icy crystals glimmering in her eyelashes. She’s beautiful. He could walk the borough with her all night, live in a loop where they’ve always just disembarked from a late bus, disoriented to step from its stark light into the soft glow of the snow on sidewalks that aren’t cleared with the same diligence as they are in Manhattan, around Rockefeller Center, where they’ve spent the evening skating. That would be a nice life—tonight, with her, forever.

Peter halts them for a moment and wraps his other arm around her too, pulling his girlfriend in to kiss her. He sways them as he does it, smiling against her mouth, her cold nose pressed into his cheek.

“Did you have a good time though?” he asks. MJ nods and her face rubs against his.

“My rental skates were a little tight, but I did wear two pairs of socks, so it’s kinda my fault.”

He has a new pair of skates for her, exactly the right size, but they’re wrapped in red paper featuring dogs with candy cane antlers, waiting to be snuck beneath her tiny artificial tree on Christmas morning. A totally outrageous gift—figure skates in immaculate white leather, like she wears in the pictures he’s seen of her at childhood skating lessons—but he hates it when all his money goes to rent. This might finally be the gift to make her cry. He’s cracked the bottle that stores his girlfriend’s tenderest feelings before, making her eyes shine the winter he knit her a terrible, uneven scarf (she’s wearing it now), and he’s certain the skates will be the thing she really loves. She’ll cry with joy, she’ll say they’re too much, he’ll carry her from the little tree to bed and keep her there until she’s begging for more instead of less. The thought makes Peter grin now.

“Take a bath when we get home. Your feet will feel better.”

“They’d feel better if you carried me,” MJ suggests slyly.

But she screeches when he jerks her against him and, in the relative darkness of their street, looses a web, swinging them both into the air. They pretend it’s still a secret how much she’s grown to love the sensation of sailing through the night with him. What Peter is far from secretive about is how much he loves the way she clings to him, trying not to feel too guilty when he remembers he should attribute some portion of her grip to the time he dropped her. Ah well, it’s in the past. His girlfriend’s laughing shakily as he lands them on the roof of their building and crawls deftly down the wall to the fire escape.

“Cute,” she says, shivering with the aftereffects of cold winter air whipping around her face. The tone is both complimentary and accusatory. “But we have to climb down now, unless…”

MJ’s eyes narrow.

“I… might’ve left the window unlocked?” he asks, because asking implies someone else has the answer, that there is a buck to be passed, as much as he would simultaneously like to hang on to any spare bucks during this expensive season.

“Peter, you can’t do that. You know break-ins are more frequent during the holidays.”

“Yeah,” he allows, edging the window open, “but who’s gonna climb up to the twenty-second floor to try to get through our window?”

He dives inside, then helps her through. The proof that she had a good time tonight is that she lets the window thing drop. Peter shuts and locks the window as loudly as possible behind them.

“Didn’t we leave a light on?” she asks.

“I’m not—”

“When I say that,” MJ cuts him off, dropping her voice to a hiss, “I mean I know I left a light on.”

Instantly, he’s stepping around her, keeping his arm out to hold her behind him. She has a bad habit of going rogue in dangerous situations. More likely than not, she’d grab a kitchen knife and end up stabbing him by accident as they checked every room for intruders. Safer for him to lead.

But it’s not a break-in.

“It’s cold in here,” he realizes.

As they moved through the small number of rooms that make up their hideously overpriced apartment, they left the lights off. Now, MJ smacks at the closest wall switch. Nothing happens.

“Aw, come on,” Peter begs the overhead light. He tries a lamp. Click-click, click-click. Nothin’. “Man!”

“Fucking Rockefeller Christmas tree,” his girlfriend accuses, though it’s not possible that even an energy-suck of that size could drain their building, way out in Queens. “I’m not having a bath now. I’ll be freezing when I get out.”

“Ok. Let’s get some candles first.” Peter starts to walk away from her, down the hall. “MJ, where are the candles?”

With his enhanced vision, he can see her well enough to catch the eyeroll. Fair.

By the time they have a dozen candles lit, it smells like every holiday scent at once. Vanilla smudges cloyingly across the sharper sweetness of candied orange peel, the heaviness of pine battles the richness of milk chocolate, and the cinnamon that seems to have been included in every candle is giving Peter a headache until they agree to space their light sources out. The room is darker with the candles far apart, but the smell is bearable. He also doesn’t mind how the flames catch in MJ’s eyes when she blinks, how a streak of gold will dart across her throat when she turns her head to watch him watching her.

Peter’s mouth is dry when he stammers out, “Y-you look incredible,” like they’re sixteen again and he’s got his gaze fixed on her legs because it’s 90° and she very reasonably wore shorts to school.

“How I feel is cold,” she admits with a small smile. She stirs under the blanket that’s draped across both of them. He strokes her shoulder over her wool cardigan. “I really was looking forward to that bath.”

And because the way she says it sounds nothing like how a person might casually look forward to anything, Peter swells a little in his jeans and shifts his legs closer to hers.

“Were you?” he asks.

MJ’s gaze goes from his mouth to his eyes as she smirks subtly. She knows she’s got him. When does she not have him? The complaints of their former roommates were undeniably valid. It’s a miracle he and MJ accomplished enough in undergrad to even get accepted into grad school. If she hadn’t been the responsible one, he would’ve been pretty damn content to spend those four years in bed with her.

Innocently, she rests her head on his shoulder. He swallows thickly.

“Mhmm. I was looking forward to getting out of my cold clothes. I was looking forward to grabbing a big, thick—” She grips his thigh suddenly. “—towel from the closet to wrap myself in when I was done. I was looking forward to using my cranberry bodywash in the tub. That one smells really good, right?”

Peter nods because forming a sentence in this moment is beyond him.

“And it foams up really well,” MJ continues, tilting her face, passing her lips lightly across his earlobe. He’s hard. He’s so fucking hard so quickly. “So, I was looking forward to popping those bubbles when I ran my hands all over my body to work it in.”

“Fuck,” Peter groans. He digs his fingers into her waist, through the sweater, blood pulsing in his groin.

She shrugs, abruptly nonchalant.

“Mostly, I was just looking forward to being warm.”

“I can think of one way to warm you up,” he pledges.

Trust me, he mentally urges. Right now. Trust me like you trusted me to keep you on your feet on the rink when your legs wouldn’t remember how to skate right away.

“Good, because I need you.”

“Say it again?” Peter requests, hand on the back of her head as she raises it from his shoulder.

“I need you, Peter.”

MJ’s hand jumps from his thigh straight into his lap and squeezes him through his jeans. He crushes their mouths together, the two of them breathing in hot pants like they can warm each other that way. Making to move over her, he’s pushed back instead, winded from more than the shove as his girlfriend straddles him with the practiced efficiency of a quickie before Spidey patrol or as an incentive between study breaks. When she rolls her hips against his… shit, she might observe Christmas on the 25th, but the friction of her grinding on his dick is the only Christmas he’ll ever need to celebrate. He plunges both hands deep into her hair to seal their mouths together and slumps into the couch, offering maximum opportunity for her to rock that beloved place between her legs along his erection. He’s already feeling warmer.

“No,” she yelps when he tries to push her sweater off. She snatches it back on and pulls the blanket up over her shoulders. “I’m still cold.”

“Ok. Let’s work on that.”

Peter tilts his chin up in invitation and repositions his hands on MJ’s ass. When she kisses him in a slow brush, he begins forcing her back and forth over his lap. He groans into her mouth to feel her angle her hips just right and shiver. Not letting her back down, he grips her and drags her across his erection repeatedly, until she can’t kiss him anymore, until her forehead’s pressed hard to his and she’s hissing his name. The oscillation of her hips in his hands is hypnotic, even with his eyes closed. He’s groaning and trying to hold back, having a hard time concentrating on an idea of what to do next to get his girlfriend off before he reaches that point himself. He wants her warm skin against his when he sinks inside her, not a sudden gush in his jeans.

Still grinding, MJ sits up straighter. She doesn’t take her sweater off, but she pulls down the front of the camisole she wears under it and tucks the material below her bared breasts. Peter’s happy to enjoy the visual while he rubs her over his dick, but she grips the back of his neck and compels his head forward.

“What do you want exactly?” he teases. “I’m a little confused.”

Eye narrowed down at him as she pants, MJ plucks one of his hands from her ass and guides it up to her face. It fucks him up pretty good when she folds down all but two of his fingers, sliding those into her mouth; she sucks with that almost-angry gaze locked on him before bringing his wet fingers down to circle her nipple.

“Ok, ok,” Peter says desperately.

“Just helping.”

A laugh pops out of his mouth, but then he touches his lips to her breast, kissing lightly as she sways. Her hand twitches on the back of his neck. Ok, he thinks again, pulling her nipple between his teeth. MJ moans blissfully and heat floods both Peter’s face and his groin. He jerks roughly against her and clutches her body close when she comes, cradling his face to her chest. There’s still something of the briskness of their walk home to her smell as he inhales against her skin, but also wool and the smoke that’s clung to her after lighting the candles. Her scent is rich. He feels rich, with his arms wrapped around her.

She shimmies her shoulders and the blanket drops. When she slips out of her sweater, Peter rushes to tear his hoodie (and the t-shirt caught up with it) off. MJ halts him in the act of flinging them away; right, candles. Gotta aim for a spot where he won’t start a fire. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans as quickly as he can, gasping in relief at the sudden extra room for the erection bulging beneath his boxers. His plan, as he hooks his thumbs into his waistband, is to yank his clothes down only as far as necessary, then guide MJ back on top of him as soon as she’s out of her sweatpants and pick up where they left off with her first orgasm. But, bottomless, his girlfriend settles on his lap before he’s ready. She shuffles forward, rubbing herself against him, making his boxers damp. Peter closes his eyes as they roll back. His hands skim blindly up her arms to fiddle with the slipping straps of the camisole she still wears—if the way it’s clinging to her from only below her breasts to her navel can be called ‘wearing’.

She kisses his cheek.

“Peter.”

He opens his eyes and watches her tilt her head to speak quietly near his ear. Candlelight seeps over and through her hair. He kisses where it pools on her naked shoulder and her soft breaths form words.

“I want you to bend me over.”

Peter turns his head and groans into MJ’s neck.

Running her fingers through his hair, she asks, “Is that a yes?”

“’Chelle, you say, ‘jump,’ I ask, ‘how high?’” he promises.

He whips a condom out of his pocket. She draws back and smirks at him, eyebrows raised.

“And how did that get in there?”

“I might’ve grabbed it while I was looking for the matches.” When his girlfriend continues to stare at him, he adds, “It’s dark! You were lighting candles! I dunno, MJ, it seemed kinda romantic. Why are you still looking at me like that?”

“You’re cute when you babble.”

“Stop talking,” Peter interprets with a sheepish smile. “Got it.”

She climbs off of him and stuffs the blanket into the corner of the couch while he stands and whisks his jeans and boxers down his legs. He almost trips peeling his socks off because MJ waggles her bare ass at him very unfairly.

“Come on, I’m getting cold.”

“I’m—” he starts, struggling with the condom. “I am… I’m going as fast as… there!”

Peter bounds onto the couch and catches MJ’s face in his hand, kissing her lovingly. Then desperately. Then sloppily pulling away to sneak a hand under the back of her top and press her down until her elbows rest on the arm of the couch. Taking a deep breath, he strokes his other hand from the back of her neck all the way to her ass. This is kinda hot with her shirt still on. He’s glad that, for as much as they discuss and debate things like the misuse of municipal funds on holiday decorations, they’re still in their hasty days. Still young, still eager. He grips himself and flexes his fingers as he traces the head of his dick through MJ’s arousal.

“Getting cold,” she repeats.

“Spider-Man is here to help, ma’am,” he jokes, pushing inside her.

Fuck. Peter works his hips gently forward and back, building up to plunging deeper the same way he tiptoes out into the water when they visit the beach too early in the year. But this isn’t like the chilly springtime ocean because she’s warm as she takes him—so, so warm.

“Uh, MJ? Baby? Sweetheart? I thought you said you were cold,” he grits out.

She presses back against him as he finally thrusts all the way in.

“I always keep the home fires burning for you.”

“Well, that was raunchy. You’ve been living with me too long.”

“How could I ever move out with perks like a December power outage?”

Grinning, Peter begins a loose swing of his hips, gazing down MJ’s back at the shadows and light sliding over the rounded edges of her neck, her shoulder blade, her ear as she tips her head to let her hair hang to the side. When her low moans start, he repositions his knees on the couch cushions and digs in with his toes. The wet smack of driving into her is loud in their little sanctuary. He takes her by the hips as she bows her head to her crossed forearms, moving faster, gliding in and out with more grace than he has when navigating an ice rink with skate blades on his feet. MJ spreads her legs wider and drops her head even lower. She is graceful, with the steep slope of her back that Peter can’t resist pressing a hand to. At his touch, she bends even further and he chokes on an already raspy inhalation.

“Faster, Peter,” she requests.

Not loud, not demanding. She knows he can hear her because he’s always listening for her voice. It coaxes him onward from beneath the urgent slap of his thrusts.

He hunches over her, wrapping one arm around her waist as they buck together, his other hand diving between her legs. She’s soaked and her hips are jumping in time with his, so it’s hard to keep his fingers on her swollen clit. Suddenly, MJ has her hand over his, directing his fingers. Reality grows hazy as pleasure creeps into his thighs and trickles invisibly down his stomach, like the phantom touch of his girlfriend beneath him. Peter squints against the light of their candles and so much feeling, flicking his fingers over the sensitive nub that has MJ’s legs quivering. He kisses her spine and scrapes the edge of her camisole with his teeth. She’s shaking too hard to thrust back. Groaning, Peter bucks in a quick burst, holding her body up as she threatens to slump flat.

“You warm yet?” he huffs. “Show me you’re warm.”

“Peter… almost.”

Abruptly, he sits back on his heels, hauling MJ with him. Sweating now, Peter bounces her on his lap. His hands squeeze the smooth skin of her hips. She gasps before moaning deeply and reaching up to wrap an arm behind his neck, arching against him.

“God,” he mutters, looking down over her shoulder to watch the jiggle of her breasts and the tension of her stomach, “I already want you again.”

Because of his words, or his hands, or his cock slamming up into her, she climaxes, clenching around him and stuttering over his name. Peter buries his nose in her hair to avoid the overpowering scent of the candles as his senses sharpen to the finest point; he’s learned this only happens when he’s lost in either the pain of a grave injury or the satisfaction of releasing into MJ. He pulses, hips snapping, hugging her against his chest, flushed with warmth from the top of his ears to where his toes grip the couch.

“Bath?” Peter pants in her ear, dick still twitching inside her. “I swear I won’t let you get cold.”

Just like that, the overhead light and the lamp on the end table blink on. Huh. Power’s back.

“Or maybe you don’t need me to,” he says.

MJ turns her head and kisses the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t be stupid. I’ll grab the candles. You hit the lights.”

#promptmas #my writing #spideychelle #spideychelle fanfiction #peter parker #peter x mj #peter x michelle #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones

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angelz-dust · 4 years ago

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masters of none - part 2 (jason todd x reader)

summary: thank you all for taking interest in this! i’ve gotten wonderful feedback and helpful criticism that i appreciate so much. i’ve decided to give you guys some more jason since i’m sure you all want to see him lol. i have a plan tho so bear with me. we are currently laying the foundation.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: alcohol. food mention. anxious reader.

part 1 /// part 3

ungodly hour

when you decide you like yourself. when you decide you need someone. when you don't have to think about it.

...

you felt an uncomfortable churning in your stomach as your bare back pressed against the cold leather seats of the limousine. you laced your fingers and rested your hand over your middle, hoping the subtle self soothing would calm your nerves. it wasn't everyday you went to a wayne gala after all. your silence and clear discomfort was enough to stir a reaction from misha, one of your fellow producers and stylist.

"you doing alright over there?" she asked after applying her lipgloss, carefully wiping the corners of her mouth.

"chillin'," you responded with a little shrug.

that was a lie. you felt like you were going to shit and projectile vomit simultaneously. however, it was freezing in the limo so you were definitely chilling in some sense of the word. your navy off the shoulder dress made of tulle embroidered with stars but it wasn't really warm. your shoulders were exposed and so was a good portion of your arms. you didn't know how misha was holding up in her dress. her entire back and arms had to protection from the cold at all.

"you know this isn't a big deal, right?" she reminded you gently. she must have picked up on your discomfort. "we'll go in, i'll network with the old money of gotham, and we'll leave."

"yeah but where does that leave me?" you asked her, shifting in your seat and almost slipping out of it. the tulle didn't provide much traction against the slippery leather. "i'm your plus one, remember? i serve no purpose."

"i thought that was the selling point," she pouted before making an attempt to cheer you up. "you don't serve no purpose. you're there to make me look good. my arm candy."

"i believe people may see it as the other way around," you informed her with a sigh. "but... fine. as long as you don't leave me alone."

"and let somebody snatch up my trophy wife?" misha scoffed, causing you to exhale through your nose with a barely visible smile. "i'm not letting you out of my sight!"

the limousine slowly stopped in front of the venue, your door lined up with the red carpet that had been laid out for the guests. it was time. you glanced around, briefly considering your escape plan just as the driver had opened the door, snuffing our any idiotic thoughts you had about jumping out through the sunroof or shimming out of the opposing window, away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi.

the lights. bright, blinding white lights flashing on and off. if you weren't acutely aware of where you were at the moment, you would've thought some kid had an essay due at midnight with the furious clicking and shuttering that filled your ears. misha was the first to step out, waiting for you to maneuver your way out.

the golden light emanating from the venue, paired with the harsh lights from the press honestly made misha look even more beautiful than normal. here you were, completely out of your element, standing next to a goddess in lilac chiffon. you looked up at her, noticing how the soft edges of her face contrasted with the sharp ones of her collarbone and the plunging v neck only accentuated that. the person you were with wasn't your friend, or your label mate. no, you were with gotham's resident fashionista and trendsetter, misha matsuri. if anyone was the arm candy, it was her.

you were brought out of your trance when she linked arms with you and began leading out down the red carpet. you honestly couldn't make out what the paparazzi were shouting at you both, aside from the occasional scream of your names. normally, you'd be a little more lively but this was a very important and formal event. it wasn't like the times where you went to award shows and you could feed off of the other seven's excited energy. you weren't surrounded by fans or people who were interested in hearing about you. you were here for misha and only her. you liked that aspect of it, but it was still uncharted territory for you.

"misha! can you tell us more about your foundation?" a reporter asked, pushing through the eager paparazzi who wanted to monopolize on their close contact with you both.

"of course," misha smiled, flipping her hair out of her face. "to cut to the chase, m squared is making fashion accessible to everyone. we've have homeless people on the streets who have no access to clothes that are befitting of the harsh weather they endure on a daily basis. we have low income families who can't afford to give their children new clothing for the school year. there are people who can't afford a nice shirt and slacks for their job interviews. our goal is the provide these people with what they need. access to clothing is a necessity, not a luxury."

you listened to misha and felt pride swell up in your chest, replacing the nausea that had plagued you previously. you were quickly reminded of why you came with her in the first place. she was trying to do something wonderful for the community and aid others in doing the same.

misha left it at that, dragging you along once she had said what she wanted. "see? that wasn't so bad."

"we haven't even crossed the threshold, mother teresa," you reminded her, jerking your chin in the direction of the large double doors behind held open for you both. misha flashed her invitation to the bouncer, quickly being let in.

the two of you walked in and you were stunned at the venue. everyone was dressed to the nines. you recognized many politicians, socialites, and some celebrities as you worked your way to the main ballroom. you felt your eyes widened as you saw bruce wayne out socializing with his guests. you had seen him on the news and in magazines but never in person. he was much taller than you expected. and closer in proximity to you. how was that happening?

"miss matsuri, miss l/n," he had greeted you both, almost surprising you. you weren't sure if misha brought you to him or he brought himself to you. maybe they met halfway while you were in shock. either way, he was here now. "it's wonderful to finally meet you both."

both? he knew you? bruce wayne knew you?

"thank you for your invitation, mr. wayne," misha smiled politely as they gently shook hands. he turned to you, offering you the same courtesy. you felt your brain lag out before you snapped out of it, taking his hand with nervous laughter. "it was a pleasant surprise."

"anyone that has the best interest of gotham in mind deserves recognition and support for their efforts. and please, bruce is fine."

you zoned out as bruce gave you the run down on the place. your eyes wandered around, occasionally lining up with a location bruce was telling you about. you were brought out of your boredom when you heard a loud crash off in the distance. you saw a group of four boys all surrounding a broken champagne bottle like it was a crime scene. you saw a twinge of annoyance on bruce's face before he collected himself.

"please excuse me. i need to reprimand my sons," he said apologetically, making his way over to the group who paled at his presence, except for the youngest one.

"father, this was todd's doing," you heard him say with a frown. "he kept antagonizing drake and they knocked over the champagne. grayson and i were merely bystanders."

"you are such a snitch," the apparent perpetrator sneered.

"here, come on," misha laughed, dragging you away from the scene. "i have old men to seduce for their money."

your gaze lingered on the group while you were dragged away. you knew that none of them were related by blood, expect for the little one and bruce, but handsome clearly ran in the wayne family. there must be something in that expensive tap water.

you spent majority of the night helping misha on her quest for benefactors. she wasn't made of money and she had made it clear that she didn't want money coming from the community. she wanted to 'milk the rich bastards of gotham for everything they've got' or something to that effect.

not actively participating in these conversations required you to try and keep yourself occupied. you started counting the chandeliers (there were five), thinking about one of the tracks you were working on (the chorus was lacking something and you didn't know what it was), and at one point you tried listening in on other conversations, hoping to hear about something juicy (you didn't).

how many glasses of champagne have you had now? three? four? you lost count. you realized you should've been counting them instead of the chandeliers. either way, you were definitely starting to feel the effects of that err. or was that the sensation of being watched?

misha had left to use the bathroom, leaving you by the fancy finger foods. as you ate the bacon wrapped enoki mushrooms, you could feel the presence of another person. you swallowed your food with a helpful swig of champagne before turning to the person who had made a claim on one of the strawberries with chocolate drizzle.

you watched as his lips parted, carefully taking a bite of the potentially messy dessert, his gaze directed at you. it was the handsome wayne boy from earlier. the champagne murderer was what you were calling him in your head. he was very tall and much better looking up close. his eyes were very striking, too. from the look in those eyes, you quickly figured out what he was trying to do.

"she's in the bathroom," you informed him, his brow perking silently as he chewed the berry, licking his lips of any lingering juice. he had this look on his face. confusion? but then you saw him fighting back a smile as he looked down at the table before looking over at you again.

"who?" he asked, his tone and look in his eyes awfully playful. you confused his flirty tone for coyness.

"don't play dumb," you laughed. normally, you wouldn't help out guys when it came to getting on misha's good side but you were making an exception for the dangerously handsome champagne murderer. "i can't give you her number. she hates that. but if it's any consolation, you're definitely her type."

"well, what about you?" he asked after taking a short pause to digest your words. "am i your type?"

you scoffed. the gall of this man.

"am i the backup plan or something?"

"no," he said, his lips pursed slightly as he shook his head. "would you like to be?"

"there's not going to be a plan to back up if you're trying it with me," you told him seriously. what a dick. it was to be expected, though. he was bruce wayne's son after all. of course he was a player.

"i never said i was trying anything. you're the one who keeps assuming things," he reminded you with a little grin. "had it occurred to you that i came over here, simply wanting to indulge myself in these divine strawberries?"

and he did just that, looking you in the eye as he took a slow bite of his new berry, raising a brow as you watched him. "what?"

"are they as divine as you anticipated?" you asked, not being able to resist some teasing.

"absolutely."

there was something about the way he answered you. was he flirting? were you flirting? the champagne was making it hard to read the situation. there was no way someone as gorgeous as him would spare you a glance and even if he did, you didn't have the time or energy for romance.

"alright. i'll be honest. i came over here because, well, i'm a fan," he told you, turning his body to fully face you now.

"oh," you nodded, not sure what to say next. when people led with that, it always felt awkward. were you supposed to say thank you, or was that weird?

"yeah. i've always wanted to meet batman."

you visibly paused, turning to face him as you watched him give you a lopsided grin. you breathed out a laugh, shaking your head. so he was a fan. he was referencing something you tweeted a few days ago. someone had jokingly made a conspiracy thread, claiming at you and the rest of cloud 9 were the vigilantes of gotham. they had theorized that you were orphan, to which you rebuffed, saying that you were clearly batman and they were blind not to see the resemblance.

"shhh, it's a secret," you whispered, putting your index finger to your lips.

"ohhh. right, right. my mistake," he whispered back with a firm nod. "how do you juggle your two jobs, though? seems difficult."

"well, if you must know, batman is actually a robot that i control from the comfort of my couch. very advanced technology. you wouldn't get it," you joked, making jason laugh out loud. was it really that funny or were you missing something?

"funny," he answered unintentionally. or you thought. could he read minds? "i'm jason."

"jason," you tested out his name on your tongue. jason. you liked it. "wayne?"

"todd," he quickly corrected you, seeming very adamant that you understood that.

"jason todd," you said again, almost addicted to how it sounded coming from your lips. jason. jason todd.

"and you're y/n l/n," he said, almost as if he were telling you, reminding you that was your name. you weren't sure if you liked saying his name or hearing him say yours more. before you could even register what was happening, he took your hand and gave it a soft kiss.

you locked eyes with him as he looked up at you with his lips, soft as silk, pressed against your knuckles. you could see something in them. he looked... unsure. afraid of his actions. you found yourself subconsciously mirroring his expression in an effort to try and identify it.

"it's a pleasure to finally meet you," you said breathlessly, noting how his demeanor changing a little now that the two of you searched each other's souls for a few seconds. he rubbed his thumb over your fingers before letting go.

"pleasure's all mine," he said, his voice softer now. he was the one who broke eye contact, looking around absentmindedly. he grabbed another strawberry, about to eat it when you went to carefully grab it from him. his lips grazed your fingers as he loosened his lazy grip, letting you take it from him.

"you can't hog them all," you informed him, trying it out for yourself. they were divine, just as jason described them to be. you let out a satisfied hum, which seemed to grab his attention.

"things always taste better when they belong to someone else, right?" he teased and you couldn't help but wonder if there was a double meaning to that.

"you don't own the strawberries, jason.”

"no, but i owned the one that's in your mouth, y/n."

you were sure he was saying these things on purpose now. you just smiled, softly sucking the juice off the pads of your fingers. seldom did the opportunity to harmlessly flirt with someone present itself so you wanted to enjoy it while you could. during your back and forth, you could feel yourself holding back, despite this. you felt jason was doing the same. you were both constantly thinking about what you were doing and actively fighting against it but not doing a very good job at it. it was odd, but you felt like you and jason had this unspoken, mutual understanding for what you were doing in that moment.

still, you couldn't let yourself fall into that trap. you knew when this was all over, that was it. nothing would come from it and you were fine with that. besides, he was a fan, right? it wasn’t right to be with a fan. there was a power imbalance there that you weren’t looking to exploit.

"sorry to interrupt, but my wife and i have an early morning tomorrow," you heard misha say from behind you as she wrapped her long, slender arms around you. saved by the bell.

"wife?" he parroted, giving you a curious look.

"yeah, for like, two more hours," you reminded her as you glanced at your watch.

"and you have to respect the sanctity of our fake marriage until then. just like cinderella," misha told you, putting her arm around your shoulder now.

"i don't think that's how the story goes," you laughed, giving jason an apologetic look afterwards. "i should get going."

"i understand. i'd hate to be branded a home wrecker," he joked and misha gave him a look.

"oh, i'm sure you would," she smirked, tugging you along. "goodbye, thief."

"bye jason," you called to him, waving goodbye, receiving a silent wave and smile in return.

"what was that about?" misha nudged you playfully, giving you a suggestive look as she led you through the maze of bodies blocking your escape route.

"i'll tell you on the way home."

you exited the venue from the back, where your limo was waiting for you. what started out as a scary social event ended up being surprisingly fun. you learned a thing or two from watching misha network and that conversation with jason was entertaining, to say the least. you wondered if you’d ever run into him again.

probably not.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #dc x reader #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #batfam

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years ago

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1. Red Tape and Red Lines

Nanefua lived before what they now call “The Fall.” She used to tell stories of green fields for miles and miles. Of trees that grew all sorts of fruits - each fruit from a different tree. Vegetables from the earth. Creatures that we see in picture books that used to live in the sea, and even roam the Earth. She would say, “But, that was a long time ago,” and top it all off with a sweet chuckle and a very inspiring, “And with the right leaders, it may be ahead of us again still.”

She believed in a future where society could exist again, for all. She dreamed of a world where we all had what we needed to survive, as well as things that we wanted - pleasures of the world to grant us some happiness while we occupy our space here. I’ve always liked to think that she dreamed of this each time that she went to sleep. I like to think she was dreaming of it the last time she went to sleep, in our little hut in the Outskirts. I like to think that beyond this world, she went to another, one where she had trees with fruits again.

As we buried her in the earth and I watched Baba draw himself a map of exactly where and put it into his favorite book, I let myself dream that Nanefua was in a better place. Not just in some homemade plot identified only by a hand drawn guide. That was the first dream that I can remember ever having, and I credit her stories. Because the world around me was nothing to build a dream upon. The world of my day was anything but fruitful, was as far from good as I can even describe to you…

The Fall. It happened before Shani was born. It happened when her parents were too young to even remember. They DIDN’T put it in new books. They didn’t make new books. They didn’t keep places open that did provide books. That was what made Nanefua faithfully believe that books were invaluable. She kept every one that she owned, collected every one that she found, and bought every one that she could afford.

When the homeless were being relocated outside of the city and lower income households were being pushed further away from the city, Nanefua at least had a van to her name. She was content to live in it, as she wasn’t the best at haggling and that was what they were doing a lot of to get into homes in what was now called The Outskirts. She, like many women, paired up with a man to get into a space. It was a very small apartment, and he fortunately was good at maintenance, because The Fall stopped a lot of building ventures. Many of the apartments in the area were incomplete and abandoned. All of the empty homes of people who died were up for grabs. Squatters rushed into those, and landlords never came to collect.

It was like people in the city refused to think about them for a while, probably simply hoping that they would just die, out of sight and out of mind. Having a male roommate was good for a lot of things. He built several shelves for all of the books she had, even though he didn’t know WHY she held on to something that was becoming obsolete, and he wasn’t bad looking, either. A little short, and stocky, but he was strong and had a nice smile.

Nanefua and her roommate were not in love. They barely even liked each other. But, they were human and they had needs. Baba was born in the beginning years of The Fall in a small apartment, with barely running water and scheduled electricity. When Baba was 3, the apartment’s original owner sent their emissary to collect payment. Nanefua thought this would eventually happen, so she had been saving up as much as she could. It wasn’t enough. They took what she had, gave a date for the rest and took her roommate to work for it.

She never saw that man again. Emissaries became the norm. They came with muscle behind them, with unfair contracts and rough consequences. She took her toddler and her books and they lived in a packed van and she posted near a well that she would steal water from. Every now and then, she would check the old apartment to see if Baba’s father had come back. When he was 6 was the last time. She saw the emissary bring in a construction team. They were going to work on the apartment, finish some things up... More people couldn’t live in the city and now, middle class folk were forced to live in these apartments.

Middle class no longer existed, they just didn’t realize that yet. Most of them began working JUST to be able to live in their homes. They had to hustle and scrape for other needs - food, water... She was content to build a little hut near the well. The owner of the well hired her to collect payment from anybody who wanted water from it and allotted her a certain amount herself. She used the land to grow food. The soil was better back then. The water was better back then.

By the time Shani was born, the ecosystem outside of the city was abysmal. Working was done to survive. Rich people lived in the city and the further away from the city you lived, the further away from wealth, health and happiness, and the closer you were to death.

Shani wondered when she was little, “Was there a sickness? Like, a plague or pandemic? Was there a natural disaster? Was there an economic crash? How did things get so bad? What caused The Fall?”

“The rich was greedy and didn’t care if they killed everybody, as long as they had.”

Long story short, ALL of those things happened. Natural disasters, illnesses, every bit of misfortune... but they simply let them die. Pushed them out, forced them away. Let them die. The Fall is what they called it. They acted like it was something that happened. Like the system wasn’t up against these people all along. The system had been messed up. They just finely tuned it with the more money that they made.

That was the world that Shani inherited, but she also inherited the books. And Shani LOVED books.

Her mind worked a little differently than the people around her. From the time she was able to recognize things and respond to others, that had been a truth about her. Her mother had learned to read before all of the school systems became privatized, and since her grandmother purchased as many books on teaching and learning as possible whenever bookstores began to go out of business and funding was cut for libraries - Shani never had a shortage. Reading became something that only the privileged had the best access to. The privileged, and Shani’s family... maybe a few other poor families.

Whenever libraries became obsolete and the buildings began being repurposed, only librarians cared enough to collect all of the now “useless” books and they banded together to get cheap properties and hold the books there. It would have been criminal to refer to these places as libraries. They didn’t receive funding. They couldn’t order other books, and they didn’t have fancy systems or regular staff to keep everything in the best order.

So, after a few years, the Dewey decimal system was no longer at play. They simply had signs saying that if you dropped off books, you could trade them for others, and if you took any books to keep, to please try to leave another to borrow. After another few years, they had signs that just said: Free Books. Nanefua gathered as many as they could fit into the hut. Shani fortunately began reading very early as a result.

True, learning to read from a book was extremely different from the computerized learning systems of the privatized schools, but the alphabet had not changed, and most people underestimated the purpose of books. By the time she was 4, she knew how to both read and speak in several languages, because she had been shown books since she was able to say her first word. Mama and Baba disagreed on what that word was, whether Mama or Nana, but the moment any of them heard it, Nanafue said the girl was ready to start looking at letters and words. She would teach her herself.

After all, she had survived mostly on things she learned just from looking into her own book collection. Baba was a miner, and often had to travel and send money to them from wherever he was on location working. Shani got used to not seeing much of either of her parents as a small girl. Nanefua raised her for the most part for the first 6 years of her life. But, whenever Nanafue was gone, she had to get used to being alone. It was a long year. Time worked really different for little kids, whether or not they were having a ball. And she was not.

Her mother was bused into the city for gardening and landscaping. She did yard work through a firm and was sent to various properties to spend ours cultivating their yards and plant life. She had picked it whenever she was 5, and had been stuck doing it since then… only advancing to harder, more grueling work in fields and on large pieces of land as she got older. Whenever Shani was little, her mother spent most of her time working at a pomegranate farm. It was a very lucrative industry, and being one of the best, her mother made enough money to get her considered for schooling.

The tests for outsiders to get into city schools were much more difficult than they were for the rich people. Outskirts kids had to work harder and smarter to even get noticed, and their parents were charged brutally in order to take every potential step to gain access to a school.

It didn’t help that Shani’s mind didn’t work like other people’s did. They often thought that she was showing off, or trying to make them feel stupid whenever she would have conversations with them. It taught her not to speak too freely. But, that helped her learn to write things down. Sometimes, she couldn’t focus and needed to write many things down. Regardless of her speaking situation, or her focusing habits, she got into one of the best schools in the city whenever she was 5...

But her parents couldn’t afford to actually send her.

Instead, they sent her to a less expensive Montessori school, on the merit of her acceptance into the Academy of Superiority. The school masters worked with them on paying her fees and she also was assigned several chores to help compensate. She was exceptionally good at organizing and cleaning up, and whenever she took summer breaks, her teachers would alert her of what they would expect to be known in the upcoming years so that she could homeschool for the summer while they saved up for tuition.

They applied for the scholarship program each year since she qualified at age 7. It wasn’t until she was 10 that she both was granted access into AoS under the work program.

Riding into that part of the city sent her mind into a whirlwind…

#Story Concepts 01: No Saviors in the Wild #No Saviors Story #BFCD Story Concepts by Nesha #stories #original content #Nesha Writes

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your-highnessmarvel · 5 years ago

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Warm and Welcoming

Requested by Anonymous: Oooh random idea, Chris and homeless reader. She is well put together and no one would know. But Chris can read between the lines and he gets to know reader and realizes she’s living in her car until it gets repossessed. She’s frantic and then Chris offers her a place and so they get closer and one night sparks hit the roof and booom! Best night ever lol so ideas are just flying I’m the same anon that sent a request earlier today about shy reader and Chris thinking she’s “easy”. Ooh my ideas lol

AN: god i love chris. i always forget to give him a blowjob what the hell. poor chris. oh well.

Warnings: smut, language

*gif not mine

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MASTERLIST

The door shut with such ferocity that the whole car rattled, and you had to stop to make sure nothing would come off. Like a mirror. That happened once. Or a wiper. Yep, on the highway mid snow storm.

The phone in your pocket buzzed and you fished it out. Chris, the contact read. You sighed. How you managed to be best friends with an A-list celebrity and still be living in your 2007 Toyota Yaris was beyond you.

You looked at yourself in the reflection before you answered. Hair was kind of a mess, but when was it not. Your shirt was fairly new, but your jeans were ripped at the knees, and not in that L.A fashion way. In a way where you slipped off your mother’s front porch in a haste to get away and scratched out the knees of your jeans. And these were your good jeans too!

“Hey!” you answered, turning towards the coffee shop. “I’m walking from my car!”

“I took the liberty to ordered your favorite!” he answered.

Your heart fell. Yes, Chris was fucking rich. Filthy rich. But you didn’t need him to buy you coffee. Yes, you were living in your car, but also yes, you’d manage to scrape up two dollars for a medium two creams.

“Thank you,” you sighed into the phone. “Next time, it’s on me.”

“Whatever, Y/L/N.”

You hung up as you walked up the stars to the coffee shop. You spotted your friend, trying but failing to hide his identity with a baseball cap. Two men were beside his table, phones out. You waited patiently for them to finished taking pictures with him, and when you saw your friend getting up, you frowned at him.

“Too many,” he mumbled as he got to you and handed you your drink. “Let’s get out of here.” He guided you out the way you came with a gentle hand on your lower back.

You went right back into the streets, Chris sighing out, “Where are you parked?”

You were going to answer some bullshit about being parked far because you didn’t want Chris to see all your belongings in your backseat, but he pointed beyond your head.

“Is that the Toyota Yaris 2007?” he gushed. He began walking to it, much to your discomfort, to your need to run because, fuck, he was going to see your dirty laundry and your memories and some old socks on your dash out to dry. “So many memories in that baby.”

Yeah, you’d had that car for a while now.

“Never get rid of it,” he chuckled, turning on his heels momentarily as you followed him reluctantly.

Yeah, that’s not about to happen soon.

“Did you ever get that speaker fixed, you know, the one that just fucking bellowed out music while the other was quiet?”

You smiled, remembering that time when Chris busted it while the two of you were driving to Maine. “Accident” was not how you’d describe it.

“Sure did,” you lied, because you loved to be reminded of that weekend spent in Maine with your friends, and how Chris had made your car the star of the sojourn. How he’d made you feel special in front of all his rich, glamour friends.

He got to your car and put the tips of his fingers on the hood. Then he leaned in, examined the backseat. Your heart fell and hurt and burned, shame coursing through you like poison.

“Y/N.” His voice was serious. Your face was taunt, eyes to the ground, letting your hair cover your face. “Are you... are you living in here?”

You shook your head, bad acting kicking in as you made a grimace. “No, of course not,” you answered. “I’m just moving my stuff.”

But he didn’t believe you. He’d known you for years, decades, and he knew the look you wore on your face when you lied. “Those are socks laid out to dry,” he pointed out. “That’s a pillow. A sleeping bag. And that’s a box full of dry food. Don’t fucking lie to me.”

You wanted to leave. Runaway in shame. Forget that your actor best friend had found out you were fucking living in your car.

“It’s temporary,” you mumbled.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled. “There’s enough shit in there that say otherwise.”

Your eyes filled with tears. “I - I didn’t have anywhere else.” Your lower lip trembled.

“Your mother?” he asked slowly. “She did this?”

“I lost my job,” you admitted, the sour taste of failure coating your tongue. “I couldn’t pay my rent so I asked her to spare a room for me until I get back on my feet. She gave me a month. And that wasn’t enough, so... here I am.”

He shook his head, sighed, hands clutching his coffee. You hung your head, trying not to seem pitiful, trying not to be the weak fucking woman your mother always made you out to be. The drama queen. The attention seeker.

But then Chris put his arms around your shoulders and your forehead was against his chest and he was warm and welcoming. God knew how much you needed warm and welcoming. Your mother never was any of that.

“I’ve got a room - “ he began.

“No, Chris,” you backed away, shaking your head, wiping your tears. “I’ve got interviews.”

“My best fucking friend is not living in her car a second more,” he said, grabbing your shoulders. Where had his coffee gone? Oh right, there it was, on the ground, after he threw it against the wall of the bank. Felon.

You looked up at him. Blue eyes. Half ginger beard. Freckles. Crooked smile. He was your best friend. He was warm and welcoming.

“I won’t be a nuisance,” you sniffled. “And I won’t be long.”

He draped an arm over your shoulder. “Take all the time you need.”

Yeah, living with Chris was a fucking far cry from your Yaris. He had, well, a huge house, big enough for the both of you to live almost separately. He insisted on shared dinners when the both of you were home. You had a shower big enough to fit fourteen people in. A bed wide enough to have, oh I don’t know, six threesomes in? Your walk-in closet was 98% empty because your clothes consisted mostly of folded jeans and baggy shirts. You had one pair of shoes.

You had a whole section of the house to yourself, and Chris even lent you a spare laptop for your job search. And that was going well! You’d nailed an interview at the bank Chris threw his coffee on and guess what? Bank manager position was open to you and you started next week.

Things were looking bright.

When you told Chris, he was so happy he almost fell off the banister.

And talking about Chris, living with him had its perks like a fourteen people wide shower, but also its well, down sides. This was his house and you were in no position to tell him what he couldn’t do. Like walking around shirtless after a shower. Or sitting so close to you that you could smell his cologne on every inch of yourself after. Or cooking dinner and serving it at candle light. Or sleeping with his door open so that when you woke up much earlier than him and went to pick up Dodger, you could see Chris sleeping. Or showering with the door unlocked. Yes, you’d tested that theory, so what?

You were far from uncomfortable, and maybe, maybe you were starting to feel some sexual tension. I mean, you were both grown adults, a man and a woman, living under the same roof. Single. With needs. It was normal that your hormones were telling you to get absolutely wrecked by this man.

You shook that idea from your head as you got out of bed. Chris had texted you that he was out for the day, so you grabbed a quick breakfast, changed into your bathing suit, and headed to the pool. You needed a nice relaxing day before you started your job tomorrow.

The sun was hot. The pool was a dazzling blue and warm as you glided in. You did a few laps, then settled onto your towel to soak in the sun.

The back door opened and your heart raced, thinking someone had broken in. But Chris stood there with sunglasses, a wide grin on his face, waving at you. “I cut up some watermelons!”

“Nice!”

“Come have some?”

You got up, wrapped the towel around yourself, and walked up the small path. You stood out the threshold, and Chris handed you a fresh slice. It was good. Juicy. A reddish drop stuck to the corner of your lips, but before you could get it, Chris was slowly swiping it with his thumb.

You looked up, surprised. Chris had never touched you that way. You’d seen him on training wheels and he’d seen you in diapers. You were friends. He’d dated Jessica fucking Biel and Minka Kelly and you’d dated Brad from ninth grade English and Tyler from the college football team.

“Is this... inappropriate?” he asked timidly. He took of his glasses, setting them onto the top of his head. His eyes reflected the sun and they were gorgeous.

“No.”

“This?” he asked, bending forward to kiss the corner of your mouth, where his thumb had been.

“No.”

“How about this?” he asked, voice deep, before placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

You were acutely aware of how much you weren’t wearing. That your skin and hair was wet. That he was very close to taking that towel off and seeing it all for himself.

“Y/N?” he asked when you didn’t answer.

Your eyes were closed. “This is fine.” And you reached up on your toes, cradling his face from outside the door, and deepened the kiss. You’d imagined a few times growing up what it would be like to kiss him. Especially when you were playing spin the bottle at a middle school party. Or when he started gaining fans and having all these different girls on his arm. Or when, at the end of high school, he asked you to prom when you were only a sophomore and some of his friends made fun of him for it, but he took you anyway.

He kissed deeply, sweetly, slowly. Savoring you. Molding his mouth to yours like he knew how to kiss you since forever. And maybe he did. Had he been imagining it too, just like you had? At those parties. At his prom. When it was just the two of you and you were drunk?

He grabbed onto your waist and hauled you in, closing the door behind you and knocking your back against it.

“Stop me if you want,” he breathed against your mouth. “If you don’t want this, pull my hair, scratch me, I don’t care, just tell me.”

“Shut up.”

You grabbed onto the back of his hair, savoring the soft locks you’d so longed to touch. You never realized how much you needed him. How much you’d craved him for so long.

He hauled you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, yelping into the kiss as he wrenched you from the door and began walking. Walking? He dropped your lips to make sure he wasn’t bumping into things - and God, Dodger - and you examined him from your vantage point. It was the same Chris you knew; freckles and crooked smile and dark rim of lashes, but he was different. Rosy cheeks and parted lips and a look in his eyes, feral, that you’d never seen before.

You realize he was going to your end of the house. To your room.

Once there, he put you on your feet and closed the door, getting back to you with a swift kiss. Forehead against yours, he asked, “You’ve done this before?”

“Yeah.” How did you know what he was asking?

“It should have been me,” he mumbled before kissing you. He swiftly ripped the towel from your body, and pulled on the laces of your bikini top. It fell to the flop with a wet sound, and Chris backed away to see. “Wow. You’re... you’re beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes. He came back at you with a deep kiss, warm hands cupping your breasts smoothly. He wasn’t rough, or fast. He was soft and slow, as if savoring every inch.

He pushed you gentle backwards until the edge of your bed was at the backs of your knees. His breath was on your collarbone, kissing, nipping, your hands in his hair. “You smell so good,” he hummed.

You braced your hands at the bottom of his shirt and pulled, wrenching the garment off his shoulders and onto the floor. His chest, that you’d seen, but under this different light, different circumstance, the color of his skin and the way his veins snaked down his forearms made a new heat build between your legs.

Okay, this man was gorgeous.

And now, you were eager. You grasped onto his belt and pulled him to you, undoing him with lightning speed. His jeans hit the floor with a deafened thud, and you could see him straining against his black boxers.

He was searing to the touch, thick and hard behind the fabric. Your fingers inched into the band of his boxers and pulled him out, mouth almost falling to the ground at the sight of him. He was beautiful as much as he was powerful. You caught a bead of precum on your thumb and swiped it over the head, getting a low groan from Chris.

He pushed you backwards by the shoulders until you got the message and sat on the edge of the bed. He stepped out of his underwear, throwing the glasses on his head across the room.

“Up,” he ordered, gesturing his chin towards the head of the bed. You obeyed, watching his eyes fill with lust as they raked over your half naked body.

He climbed in over you, spreading your knees and hooking his indexes into the wet band of your bikini bottom. He saw the goosebumps rising on your flesh and kissed your thigh. “Are you cold?”

Far from that. “No.”

He smirked against your skin, pulling your bottom down your thighs and off your ankles. He kissed your belly. Your pubic bone. And a little gasp escaped you when his nose brushed your clit.

“Sensitive?” he teased. He didn’t wait for an answer, brushing his thumb against your bud, eliciting a quiet moan from you as you relaxed into the pillow. He could probably feel how wet you were, and not from the pool, as he dragged his thumb from your clit to your core, dipping his index enough to drag your arousal back to your clit. He made a sound with his mouth, like a low whistle, when your hips began slowly rocking against his hand. “I don’t want any other man in your bed,” he said.

“Uh-huh.” He was slowly increasing, slowly entering his middle finger into you with such ease it was almost embarrassing.

“I don’t want any other man touching you,” he whispered, dropping to kiss your clit, causing a sharp gasp to leave your lips. “Any other man kissing you.” He darted his tongue out, giving you a bold lick as he rubbed his finger on the spot inside of you that made you see stars. “Any other man drawing these sounds from you.”

“Yes, Chris,” you breathed, grabbing onto his hair when he ducked back down to continue suckling on your clit.

“Good,” he mumbled.

He continued drawing out those sounds from you he loved so much until the pressure in your belly built and you were whining, gripping his hair. He encouraged you with his tongue, sucking on your clit, fucking you with his finger, and when you came all over his hand, he kissed his way up your thigh, belly, chest, until he was kissing your mouth.

He was heavy over you. Your head spun from your orgasm, skin buzzing, eyes glittering behind closed lids. He parted your thigh with his palm, and you felt him aligning. Your grabbed onto his shoulders for support. You hadn’t done this in, well, a while, and you were sure that you’d need a moment. Especially with how big he was.

He kissed your nose, your cheeks, until you opened your eyes. He smiled down at you, kissing you softly. Forehead against yours, he inched in, hands in fists each side of your head. He let out a grunt simultaneous to your wince, and his left hand smoothed against your cheek, lips kissing yours tenderly.

“You feel so good, baby,” he breathed into your ear, inching in deeper, stretching you. The burn was there, but it was pleasurable because it was him. Because he was the one claiming you. He slid against your tight walls, seating himself completely to the hilt, before pulling back and sliding slowly back in. “Yeah?” he asked in a strangled moan.

You nodded, biting his shoulder, adjusting rather slowly. But it felt good. It was so strange. That mix of pain and pleasure, the coil in your belly tightening with each slow stroke from Chris.

With a bravery you didn’t know you hand, you pushed him sideways until you could swiftly change positions. His eyes widened in surprise, hands skimming your hips as you straddled him. You could take him better this way, deeper, easier. His pelvic bone pressed against your clit, and as you ground front to back, you saw his eyes flutter shut.

You used your knees to slide up and down, rocking like the motion of the ocean, hands on his chest. He was hitting all the right spots, rubbing against your clit, clutching your hips like he was holding on for dear life.

He let his hands wander. Smoothing up your stomach, between your breasts, grasping them softly. He sat up quickly, popping a nipple in his mouth, and the new position made the pressure on your clit increase, and the moan that left your lips was almost pornographic.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he breathed against your collarbone. “Just like that.”

He continued nipping and suckling your clit, holding you by one arm around the waist. You were close, clenching around him the more you rocked on top of him. Your nails bit into the skin of his shoulders. Teeth scratching his neck. His lips were everywhere; breasts, chests, neck, lips. You were so lost in him that you didn’t know where you began, where you ended. It was just Chris, and the edge coming closer and closer and finally, the pressure built until you were moaning his name, clenching him, cumming on him like you’d never done before.

He held you up with one arm, thrusting up into your tight walls sloppily, chasing his end. His mouth was open, gasping, grunting, all kinds of obscenities falling from his lips as he fucked himself right into you. You were still rocking slowly back, but you were weak from your high, pleasure making you tremble.

Chris gave one last harsh thrust before spilling himself into you, holding you down on him as if you were his anchor.

With a sigh, he let himself fall back onto the bed, bringing you with him. His chest was warm, sweaty, heart beating erratically. Your breathing was labored, but you managed to smile when he laced his fingers with yours, bringing them to his mouth to kiss them.

It was a few moments of quiet breathing before you realized. “Did you cut up one piece of watermelon to get me to sleep with you?”

He laughed. “I’ve been trying to catch your attention for years, Y/N,” he admitted, the sound of his laughter reverberating in his chest. “And now that I finally have it, I’m not letting you go.”

He kissed the top of your head and you hummed. Content. Warm. Welcomed. You’d finally found a home in someone.

#chris evans #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x yn #chris evans x y/n #chris evans imagine #oneshot #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #chris evans smut

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pikapeppa · 4 years ago

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Samson/Roman Hawke: Ashamed

Some smut/angst/feels for a lovely Friday trade with my soulmate @schoute! In which Samson and Roman get into a fight and make up, even though making up is for couples and THEY’RE DEFINITELY NOT A COUPLE BECAUSE FEELINGS ARE GROSS.

~9000 words; only the first section is here. Read the whole thing on AO3.

*******************

- SAMSON -

Samson made his way to Roman’s house in Hightown with a little spring in his step.

Granted, it wasn’t much of a spring; his neck hurt from the awkward angle he’d fallen asleep sitting against an alley wall last night, and he had to be careful not to draw any attention lest the patrolling guardsmen throw him out of Hightown for daring to breathe their fancy air. Still, despite his aching neck and the necessary caution required for travelling through the elite part of town, Samson was feeling rather jaunty. It was hard not to feel a little cheerful when he knew he’d be getting some sex.

Late last night, Roman had stopped by his usual corner on her way home from the Hanged Man and had told him to come to her house today for a fuck. This had been happening more and more often of late; it had been a few weeks now since the first time he’d gone to her house and ended up having sex with her, and since that time, she’d started inviting him to her house at least three times a week.

Well, ‘inviting’ might have been a strong word. ‘Bad-temperedly commanding’ was more accurate. Roman would come to see him for their regular little back-and-forth of insults and exchanges of information for coin, but just before she left, she’d tell him to show up at her mansion at such-and-such a day and time, and then she’d walk away without waiting for him to say yes or no. When Samson inevitably appeared at her mansion at the specified date and time, he’d find himself balls deep inside of the pretty bird about ten minutes later.

It was… unbelievable. Literally beyond belief. Samson didn’t understand what the infamous Roman Hawke was doing with the likes of him. Not to say she necessarily had a lineup of suitors at her door, given how notoriously bitchy and scary she was, but still: she was rich and influential, while Samson was a homeless ex-Templar who barely eked out a living in Lowtown. She was in the prime of her youth, while Samson was… Maker, some days he felt like a ninety-year-old corpse. She was… well, not beautiful exactly; the average person wouldn’t go around calling her a great beauty, what with her constant scowl and her lanky body that was all arms and legs. But in Samson’s eyes…

Fine, he’d admit it: he liked looking at Roman Hawke. She was real easy on the eyes, in his humble opinion. Whereas even Samson’s own mother would say he was nothing special to look at. If she were alive, that is.

In short, he couldn’t figure out why Roman had decided that he was the man she wanted to fuck on the regular. But he certainly wasn’t going to say no to such a boon. He was getting more sex now as a beggar than he’d ever gotten during any other time in his life, and the irony of this was enough to cheer him up in a vindictive sort of way. To think that he, Raleigh Samson, was currently getting more tail than his former Templar brethren? More tail than that bloody handsome berk Cullen Rutherford? This thought alone was enough to bring a smile to his face.

All in all, it was a cheerful-feeling Samson who knocked on the door of the Amell mansion a few minutes later. After a few seconds’ wait, Roman opened the door.

Samson tucked his hands in his pockets and lifted one eyebrow. “Bird. How’s—”

“Get in here,” she said, and she grabbed his shirt.

He stumbled in surprise as she dragged him through the door. She slammed the door shut, and Samson barely had time to regain his balance before she was shoving his chest.

“Move,” she snapped. She took a step closer and shoved him again.

He hastily backed away from her, then kept stumbling back as she aggressively stepped toward him. “Hey,” he protested. “What’s going on ‘ere? What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” she said, but she kept pushing his chest until he stumbled into the wall. Then she ran her palm over his groin.

He grunted in surprise. He wasn’t even hard yet — Maker’s balls, she hadn’t even given him a chance to get hard — but at the pressure of her palm, he could already feel his cock stirring to life.

She tsked and rubbed his groin. “Why aren’t you hard yet?”

He choked out a little laugh. “Give me two bloody seconds, won’t you? I’m not as young as I used to be.”

She paused in her rubbing and shot him a scathing look. “That’s a poor fucking excuse.” Then, to his mild disappointment, she stopped rubbing his groin and started untucking his shirt from his trousers.

Her fingers were rough and brisk as she plucked at his clothes, and Samson watched her in exasperation. “If I wanted to be frisked, I’d have just gone to the nearest guardsman instead of coming here.”

She looked up. “Huh?”

He gestured at her hands, which were tugging impatiently at the laces of his trousers. “You’re being pretty rough, Bird. This feels more like a strip search than anything.”

She scoffed and kept pulling at his laces. “If you want to be treated all nice and sweet, go to the Blooming Rose.”

He took her jaw in a gentle grip and lifted her chin. “Why would I go to the Blooming Rose when I can get it for free?”

She scowled at him. “That’s why you’re here? Because you think I’m cheap?” She tried to twist her face away from his hand, but he tightened his grip on her chin so she couldn’t wiggle free.

He looked her intently in the eye. “I’m here because you told me to come.”

“And you came because you think I’m fucking cheap and easy,” she said in a hard tone.

He sighed loudly — why did she always have to be so fucking difficult? — then kissed her hard. Her lips parted, and Samson quickly pulled away before she could bite him.

He ran his thumb over her chin, then released her. “Maker bloody knows why, Bird, but I like fucking you. So finish your frisking already so we can get to it.”

She curled her lip at him and went back to pulling on his laces. “You’re — fuck you. Don’t tell me what to do.”

He smirked, pleased to have won this particular argument. Roman finally finished unlacing his trousers and pulled out his cock, and when she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, he let out a pleasured breath.

“Finally,” he said. “Are you going to get your kit off now, or–”

She dropped to her knees and took his cock in her mouth, and Samson jerked with shock at the sudden wet heat of her mouth. She moved her lips up and down his shaft, and when the head of his cock slid deep into the softness of her throat, a gasp of pleasure burst from his lips.

Fuck, she was sucking him so firmly, and her throat was so sweet and warm, and if she kept this up for much longer, he was going to come. He placed his palm on the crown of her head. “Hang on, Bird, just a– ah, fuck…”

She released his cock and frowned up at him. “What, don’t you want this?”

“Of course I do,” he panted. “I just — don’t you want — what about you?”

She gave him a look as though he’d suggested something horribly perverted. “What are you, a fucking gentleman?”

He chuckled breathlessly. “I’m a perfect gentleman, all right. Just look at my genteel clothes.” He gestured sarcastically at his threadbare trousers.

She scoffed and pumped her hand along his cock. “Shut up. You can pay me back after.”

He smirked dirtily. “Pay you back how?”

“By putting your tongue in my pussy, you dumbass,” she said archly.

His cock jerked at her raw words. The thought of Roman’s fragrant wet pussy against his mouth, that fragrant pussy of hers sliding onto his length, the way she clenched around him when he was deep inside of her…

“Can I keep going or what?” she said impatiently.

“Yes, yeah, suck me off,” he panted.

“Good,” she grunted. “Maybe you’ll shut the fuck up now.” She took him in her mouth again, and Samson closed his eyes in bliss. Her mouth was a perfect firm pressure around his shaft, and it felt so good that he couldn’t help but roll his hips toward her a little bit as she suckled him.

She growled around his shaft and rested her hands on his thighs. He groaned and tightened his fingers in her raven-black hair, and she started sucking him harder—

Someone knocked on the door, and Samson’s whole body went cold with panic.

Roman released him with a muffled curse and stood up. “Put your cock away,” she said brusquely, and she turned to the door.

“Don’t open it!” he squawked. “For Maker’s bloody sake, don’t–”

“I won’t,” she hissed. “Just lace up your fucking trousers.”

The knock came again, and Roman rolled her eyes. “Just a second,” she hollered, and she turned and gave Samson an impatient look.

He hastily finished tying up his trousers and ran a hand through his hair, and Roman went to the door and opened it a crack.

Varric’s voice filtered through the crack in the door. “Morning. Ready to go?”

“Go?” Roman said. “Go where?”

“Sundermount, remember?” Varric said. “Daisy’s little errand? I’m not keen either, to be honest; you know how I feel about all that nature shit, but we promised.”

Roman tilted her head back and let out a long sigh. “Fuck,” she groaned. “I completely fucking forgot. You’d better come in while I get my shit together.” She opened the door wider and stepped back to let him in.

Varric came into the house, and when his eyes fell on Samson, his eyebrows jumped up. “Oh,” he said blankly. “Hey.”

Samson nodded awkwardly and touched his fingers to his forehead in greeting. “Tethras.”

Varric’s eyes darted from him to Roman. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to, uh, interrupt.”

“You’re not interrupting,” Roman said. “He was just leaving.” She shot Samson a pointed look.

He wilted slightly, but he wasn’t really surprised; she usually tried to get him out before any of her friends or family could catch him here. He sighed and made his way to the door. “Enjoy your nature trip,” he said, and he reached for the doorknob.

To his surprise, however, Varric spoke to him before he could open the door. “We’ll probably be back by tomorrow night, if you want to join us at the Hanged Man for a round of diamondback.”

Samson turned and stared at him in surprise. Varric was inviting him to join them?

“No,” Roman said.

Samson looked at her, but she was scowling at Varric. Varric raised his eyebrows. “You sure? We can always use another player.”

“I said no,” Roman said in a hard tone. “I don’t want him hanging around with the others.”

Samson’s gut twisted. He was surprised at how much her words hurt, like a dull knife piercing beneath his ribs. It was one thing for him to sneak in and out of her house without anyone seeing, but to hear her blatantly saying that she was ashamed of him…

He bowed sarcastically to her to hide his hurt. “As the lady commands. Don’t let me taint your posh presence any more than I already ‘ave.”

Her pouty mouth twisted into a sour expression, but she didn’t say anything, and with a pang, Samson pulled open the door and let himself out.

He skulked through Hightown feeling like a whipped dog. As good as he’d been feeling on his way here, he was now feeling like utter shit, and he hated that he felt so bad. Logically, he understood why Roman didn’t want him around: he wasn’t anybody worth keeping around. He’d been thinking it himself on his way to her house, after all; he was a dishonoured ex-Templar and a beggar, an unsightly old shell of a man who was all skin and bones, and she was Roman Hawke. Of course she didn’t want him hanging around her precious friends.

If it made logical sense and he agreed with her, why did it hurt so fucking much to hear her say it?

He slowly made his way back to Lowtown, and his mindset swung from anger to humiliation to resignation and back to anger once more like the pendulum of a clock. She was such a bitch, kicking him out of her house and being so mean about it. While Varric was watching, no less, just in case it wasn’t humiliating enough to be kicked out with barely a goodbye. Who the fuck did she think she was to just boss him around, telling him to come over and then telling him to get out like he was at her beck and call?

He immediately answered his own question. She’s Roman Hawke, he thought. She’s better than you deserve, even if she’s mean as a rabid alleycat. And that, of course, was the problem. Samson was the first to admit that he was as good as the dirt at the bottom of her shoes, so he should consider himself lucky she’d even spoken to him in the first place, let alone allowed him to fuck her as many times as he had. And at least when she talked to him, she didn’t look at him like he was a piece of shit.

Really, if he thought about it, Roman was essentially the only person in Kirkwall who even looked at him when she spoke to him. And when she looked at him, it was like he was more than just a washed-up vagrant. When Roman talked to him, it even felt like she thought his opinions were worth more than just wind.

But then she kicked him out of her house before anyone could see him, and she told her best bloody friend that she didn’t want him around her other friends…

Fucking idiot, he thought, but he wasn’t thinking about Roman now; he was thinking about himself. It was stupid of him to read anything into the way she looked at him or talked to him. It was stupid of him to think that she saw value in him. Of course she didn’t see any value; she was Roman Hawke, the wealthy and terrifying bitch who had gone to the deep roads and come back alive — who regularly walked straight into life-threatening situations and came out of them with nothing more than a few cuts on her arms and her middle finger held high.

And he was Raleigh Samson, the ex-Templar beggar who would lick a corrupt guardsman’s boots for a mere whiff of lyrium.

It’s as it should be, he thought. She was a noble lady now, and he was at the bottom of the gutter where he’d always been since they’d met. It only made sense for her to treat him accordingly. But now that he’d had a taste of what it was like for Roman to look at him like he had value, to talk to him like an equal, he couldn’t stand the thought of her treating him like a piece of shit like she’d done today.

There was only one thing to be done, then: he wouldn’t see her anymore. Sure, it would mean a significant source of his coin would dry up, and it would mean he’d probably be curled somewhere in a corner in a couple of days having the sweats and the dry heaves as he went through lyrium withdrawal. But even that was better than the thought of Roman looking at him like the ruin that he was.

By now, he was back in Lowtown. He made his way toward his usual spot near the docks, but instead of stopping, he turned down an alleyway and followed a twisting and increasingly dirty path toward a loose sewer grate.

He sighed. He hated going to this part of town, but at least it meant that Roman wouldn’t find him if she came looking for him.

With that glumly determined thought, he lifted the grate and disappeared into Darktown.

Read Roman Hawke’s POV on AO3.

#samson #raleigh samson #samson da2 #samson/hawke #samson x hawke #romanson #pikapeppa writes

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watchtheworldargue · 4 years ago

Photo

egg magazine, april 1990. interview with Michael Hutchence

transcription below :)

Michael Hutchence on Lower Broadway

By Hal Rubenstein \ Photography by Steven Meisel

Globe-hopping is hell on a wardrobe and hard on the feet. Sometimes you have to get out of the limo to spend your money.

Michael Hutchence rarely comes to New York without luggage monogrammed INXS or Max Q, so one would think that on a visit without portfolio, the last thing he'd want to do is add on more baggage. But given a free day, a book of tickets, and our offer to go anywhere to do anything, Hutchence got into the limo with an agenda we could hardly call a new sensation. What kept us from sulking was that he hadn't left the devil outside.

Michael: You think we can load this car up with Yamamoto, Comme des Garcons, and Armani by 6?

Hal: Driver, step on it. Down to Grand and make a left.

[The car turns onto Union Square West.]

Isn't there a club on the corner here?

The Underground.

That's the one that keeps surviving regardless of how many people get shot there. How many are they up to?

No one's quite sure.

Where are we now? I don't recognise this.

This strip of lower Broadway didn't exist last time you were here. Now it's like a mall-less town's Main Street.

And Tower Records is City Hall. Not bad. It's wild to see this much activity because people around the world now talk about New York in terms of decay, how New York is such a rude place, and we keep telling them, No, New Yorkers are quite friendly, we like it there. New Yorkers are just very honest. They don't have time to bullshit. I like New York because people are linked to each other. L.A. Is fun, but segregated. Here there is a metro, and a different philosophy of getting around so there's rich upon poor upon rich. The only thing I don't remember is how many homeless are asleep on Park Avenue and everywhere else. Or is it my imagination?

No, it's real. How come you choose to live in Hong Kong instead of Australia?

For about three years, I thought it didn't matter where I lived. But I kept passing through it again. I grew up there, from when I was four until twelve. My dad still lives there. It has great energy, like New York. And it's ten hours closer to the world than Australia is. If you travel a lot, it adds up.

[We enter the Yohji Yamamoto store.]

So austere. Do they go wild if you hand back anything wrinkled? Those clothes over there are good acid-house colors. Has acid house caught on here?

Not like in England.

That's 'cause New York has bad radio. Are these dogs always here? They must sleep in the shoes. Ooh, look at these here. Not very me, but very Star Trek. $500 for a T-shirt. I see. I'll buy six. No, twelve. Now, here is something very stagy. Ultraflouncy. I like that, but the general consensus might kill my career.

Is what you wear onstage the same as you wear off?

I sort of smush them all together. My favorite piece of clothing is a leather jacket I had made for me that says “Hutch” in chain mail on the back.

Did Michael Schmidt make it for you?

Yeah – how'd you know? He's great. He sort of looks like a beautiful snake. He loves all the Hollywood stuff, but he's so sincere when he talks about it. Almost makes me like it. Is there somewhere funkier we can go, like Yankel's House of Pile? I saw that on the way down.

If you want old clothes, we should go to Cheap Jack's.

[We head back up to Broadway and 13th Street. Several young ladies on the corner stare at Hutchence as he enters Cheap Jack's.]

Do you enjoy recognition?

Depends on where I am.

Like when you're out on your own. Shopping, for instance.

Shopping, yeah, 'cause I get discounts. And there is a definite bonus to recognition when I'm onstage.

It makes the night go faster. But I'm not an institution yet. Sometimes I think about how hard it must be for someone like Bob Hope to go for a stroll. I don't really get hassled. I can stand in the middle of a street in London, or even New York, and usually nothing happens. I don't think I have that distinctive of a face. I got recognized in Tangier once, going by in a taxi, very fast … from a distance … in a fog … during monsoon season. Just kidding. It's odd how once you are conscious of being watched, you stop being so self-conscious because you realize there's nothing you can do about it. Of course, nobody in Hong Kong gives a shit who I am.

Aren't people there freaking about the city's eventual realignment with China?

Thousands are leaving a year, but they're the ones who can afford to leave, to give Australia half a million to let them in, though a lot more are going to Vancouver or New Zealand instead because they've heard, and it's fairly true, about Australia's racism.

It's actually more like unconscious racism. There's a naivete to it that you might call charming if it wasn't so sick. See, most foreigners don't realize – because we refuse to believe it ourselves – that Australia is southern Asia. Australia is linked to England in everyone's minds.

Yet most Australians don't have the faintest idea why the Japanese tried to invade us during the Second World War, and can't understand why they might not have wanted any foreigners on the biggest island in the Asian paradise. If we had lost, my home would be covered in rice paddies by now. Australia would have been Japan's Great Plains, their grain barrel.

I've never met one Australian who knows that. We have it so easy in Australia. It's very easy to live there. Tougher than it was before, but that's because five years ago it was ridiculous. I used to live in a three-story, five-bedroom house. It cost me $20 a week.

Did you make that much playing music?

Nah, but so what, we were all on the dole. Everyone went on it. That's one of the reasons you have so many bands in Australia. It's cheap to live and collect, so all the bands go on it. You wouldn't even have to go pick up your employment check; they'd mail it to you or transfer it to your account. Ready cash. I guess because there is such an anti-authoritarian vibe in Australia that people are quite happy to accept government checks. “Aw, screw 'em” - that's the attitude. Lots of people accept four and five checks or even have jobs. It's very lax. That's why we're stuck with the tall-poppy syndrome.

Translation?

Don't be successful, don't rise above your mates, or you'll get chopped. It's weird. It's the don't-leave-the-pub way of life. I think people in America are generally happy for someone's good fortune; they know how to let themselves go. In Australia, they go, “Good, mate,” and don't ask a single question. There are no celebrations for a job well done. I'm still shocked at how Americans cheer you on when they like you. I know you don't fancy it anymore, but I like phrases like “dress for success.”

And that's why you're shopping here?

I love hideous ties. Girls love 'em. Dunno why. Its like red socks. Are the playing Richard Hell? I haven't heard this song in 20 years. God, you must hear better music in clothing stores than you do anywhere else in New York. All these baseball jackets are so cheap. You know what they pay for these in Australia? I should buy the whole lot, take them back. I'd never have to tour again. I could get 150 to 200 bucks just for the ratty ones. I think this is the first clothing store I've been in that wasn't playing videos.

Are videos big in Australia?

We've actually been involved in music video a whole lot longer than in America. Because we are so far away, the only way we've had to understand all this music flying around the world is through video. Since the '50s, even when it was only 10 minutes a week, Aussie tv has been showing music videos.

And we don't censor the way you guys do. The “Way of the World” single is a very serious song, but MTV is quite shy of the video, you should note – I say this diplomatically. They censor here for all the wrong reasons. Like it's okay to stare at Cher's crotch for four minutes, but it's hard to say something truthful about the state of the world.

Could it be because with a group that's become as wildly successful as INXS has, it's inevitable that favorable reaction always turns?

I don't think INXS has reached that point yet. Give us four more years. We've only recently become hip in England. At the beginning, they hated our guts.

Why?

'Cause we are Australians writing pop music, why else? They don't make much in England, apart from nice jumpers and Jaguars, and one of the few things they can claim some turf on is pop music. So, they're not happy when someone else does it. It's a standard trait of island people; they're very territorial.

But you guys are island people too.

Yeah, but we got a bigger island. Now, if we can just get rid of some competition from the expatriate colonies.

Isn't it enough already with this rivalry between Australia and England? L.A. And New York have settled their feud.

England still treats Australia like we're descendants of convicts. Well, I guess we are, aren't we? We're trying to get rid of them, but unfortunately, they're coming back with money and buying up half the country. Don't you resent the Japanese buying Rockefeller Center?

I resent the Rockefellers more.

[Having tried on everything and bought nothing, Hutchence decides against old clothes. We head down to If boutique.]

Armand Basi. Nice stuff. That Claude Montana is fabulous, but God, this stuff is expensive. We don't know anyone here for a discount, do we? My father used to design clothes for a shop in Hong Kong called Dynasty. Glitzy evening wear for too much money. One year, when we did our first tour, we bough ta lot of Sprouse, real colorful stuff, and we spent a fortune, especially when you consider it's disposable fashion. All it had to do was last a month. All the buttons fell off, it shrunk, seams opened up. We would have been more upset, but it made us homesick for the mother country. Disposable fashion is very English. The nice thing about it when it comes from there, however, is that even though the stuff falls apart, it's cheap.

Ah, I like this. Very sexy, very smart. Basi, right? I found the best underwear. I think it's called Nikos. Someone gave it to me last night. Well, that's a plug. No names, please. These pants might go with the Basi shirt. [Like Navy pants, they have over a dozen buttons instead of a fly.] Not good clubwear. Certainly not quick enough to please me.

Your choice of underwear would have to be very discreet.

And always clean. Maybe these pants come with a catheter. Should I ask the shopgirl? [He raises his arm to call her and, wincing, puts it down.]

Just realized a colostomy bag wouldn't hurt?

No. I think I have a cracked rib, from too much fun the other night at Inflation, this super club in Melbourne. Melbourne has some of the best clubs in the world. Great people. Amazing clubs. Sydney has nothing. Boring as hell. Nice place if you're a surfer. Really pretty, like L.A. But very corrupt, Sydney. Everyone is always paying everyone off. That's why you can't afford to do a club there. It's like, in order to get a club license, all the other nightclub owners have to agree to your having a license. And four people control the voting on that. Melbourne now has a club called Razor that is so exciting. It used to an automobile club, especially popular during the '50s, where people used to talk about their cars, you know, with photos of Mini-Minors making hairpin turns around corners. Like a racing club, I guess, except for slower cars. Razor gets the best people.

[He picks up a pair of huge, get-lost-in-the-rain-forest-and-survive black shoes and delights.]

Many people have shoe fetishes. I guess it's around the world actually, not just with Imelda. I think people are probably just jealous of her because they secretly wanted so many pair. But these are big, like size big. Are Americans getting larger feet, or do they just want more room? I always notice shoes when I'm here.

There's almost like a $100 tax on shoes in Australia. Like a pair that will cost you $50 here will cost you almost $200 in Australia. A pair of Levi's cost $100. I never buy furniture in Australia, either, and I have an obsession with furniture the way Americans love shoes. It's a shame I don't have an obsession with homes, too, since I have no place to put all the furniture. I have it stored all over the world.

Let me get the Basi shirt, and then I want to buy records. I would get them later, but I just remembered I have a friend coming in tonight for only one night. He and his father are trying to get down to Nicaragua. They're helping Ortega keep the Contras back. Good luck. What's so weird about their going is that these guys are publishing magnates in England. Entrepreneurs. They should be serious Thatcherites, but they just hate Thatcher. Real lefties.

If everyone is so vocal of their dislike of her, how come she's so strong?

The British love her because they love to be miserable; they love to complain. Thatcher's become irrepressible. She's finally showing signs of faltering, except she's winning by default, because no one wants to put Kinnock in, either. It's like your Dan Quayle. What an alternative.

Are Australians political?

It's compulsory to vote, if you want to call that political. Frankly, nobody particularly gives a fuck. That doesn't mean Australians are not aware people. I think they know more about what's going on in the rest of the world than the average American, but that's because they have to compensate for being in the middle of nowhere. They're more concerned about international politics, about the environment. Every time the Americans come into Sydney harbor with their nuclear ships and submarines, there's always 5,000 people telling them to fuck off.

But the hell with domestic politics?

Do you know anything about our system? It's built on a bickering sort of war. The front page is always about politicos throwing shit at each other, spending more time insulting each other than governing.

Mind you, they are really very good at it. It's a fine Australian tradition of political insult. Listening to parliament is hilarious - “Shut up, you bastard!” - and that's our prime minister, Bob Hawke. He's in the Guinness Book of World Records for having drunk a yard of beer in record time. He is actually a brilliant leader, a Rhodes scholar at Oxford, and he has done a bloody good job, considering the apathy he's up against. What he should be real pleased about its restoring pride in being Australian, particularly after all that nonsense when the governor general dismissed Prime Minister Whitlam in 1975.

How was that possible without the consent of the Australian parliament?

We're still a colony. I think a lot of us were cynical after that. They felt like puppets. Probably had something to do with the CIA. The good old CIA. I'm in their files, I found out. That they should waste their time on me. I'm listed as subversive, for my lyrics to “Guns in the Sky” and because I once threw condoms out to the audience in Northern Australia.

How is that subversive?

The more north you get in Australia, the more it is like the South in America. The man who ran Queensland, one of the biggest states in Australia, was this guy, Joh Peterson, who was in power for over 20 years. Peterson was this sort of South African leftover who arrived in Australia, and he made things illegal, like sex education, abortion, condoms to minors – you couldn't have the vending machines in clubs. [You can now.] Well, I slandered him, and so I got taken to court, where he was thrown out of office from the corruption uncovered during the proceedings.

Did that make you a hero down there?

Say what, mate? This is Australia, remember. Our heroes are bushrangers, outlaws, and sporting stars. If you're an athlete, you can get away with anything.

[Hutchence purchases the Basi shirts, and then we head to Tower Records at the corner. A street person approaches us.]

is this the official mugging committee?

Street person: “Ooh, ooh, here they come in their limo, straight from Saks Fifth Avenue. Board of directors, how you doing, moneys, you big-time decision makers. Uh-oh, who's you? You must be a rock man. Stand aside for the rock man.”

They always pick on me.

“I want to give you something, man. Some humility. But there's only enough for one.”

I don't care for some, but humility is something we can spread around.

“Hey man, this is for seriously. You will love this humility. No side effects, no speed. Say yes, and I can be back in an hour.”

[We go through the revolving door and right to the rock section; within three minutes, Max Q is playing on the system.]

That's good, somebody knows it's out.

[Hutchence buys albums by Ciccone Youth, Camper Van Beethoven, Soul II Soul, Grace Jones, Shakespear's Sister, Jesus and Mary Chain, and Suicidal Tendencies. As he is paying for them, he spots a postcard stand that features a picture of him.]

Holy shit. When did they take this thing? What a bizarre likeness. I hardly know this guy. This is not an approved photo. [He gets the attention of a young lady behind the counter.] Excuse me, please, this is not an approved photo. It's a pirate. Do you know where you get these from?

Salesgirl: “No idea.”

Can you find out?

“Why, do you want to buy a lot of them?”

See, I told you no one recognizes me.

[We walk outside and the street person comes up to him again.]

Street person: “I know who you are.”

Who am I?

“You are someone who's gonna give me a lot of money.”

How much you want?

“Just give me one of those bills, thank you. Now I'm officially your biggest fan. Just tell me what you want to buy.”

I must be dressed for success.

#inxs #michael hutchence #egg magazine #salesgirl's answers are perfect lol why would she know that hutch #maybe these pants come with a catheter #what kinda pants......#long post #tagging that in case read more doesn't work on mobile idk #collection

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jenna347-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Lira Woods pt1 (Chapter 1)

Chapter One

This is a story about a woman named Lira Chanel Johnson. She was a smart-ass, sexual witch. She had long, deep brown hair that she wore in a bun. She always dressed in a sexy, naughty gothic witch outfit, and she didn’t take shit from any one. If you look at her the wrong way, she’d try to beat you up to a bloody pulp. She was from a dark, evil planet called Demish. This world was a wasteland of a place where there was no morning, only a hazy, gloomy, foggy night that lasted all year round. The Planet that she lived in was more advance more so than Earth was about 2000-3000 years in the future with their high-class technology, but that’s if you were very wealthy. That’s the only way you could every get to these types of products, and if you were poor like Lira for example you were treated like a 2nd class piece of crap. Lira barely had any parenting during her childhood, so mostly she had but not choose to home school on her own. From preschool to second grade, most of the time, she had to teach herself because, on her world, everyone was forced to be homeschooled till the third grade, and they could only stop being homeschooled if they were hand selected. Plus, you had to know the person to even enter the most famous school in Demish named Kensaw Black Evil Witch Boarding School. It was on top of a hillside facing a dangerous ocean. Bats circled around the building with a deadly thunder storm surrounding. Lira had always wanted to go but never had the money or knew anyone that knew the higher power in that school. “I always wonder how I could get into this type of school. Maybe I could ask a rich person to sneak me into this wonderful dark school, but this person will have to be stupid. This person will have to be so dang stupid that he or she would ever think that I am a loyal friend. After I get into Kensaw, I will dump this person without him or her even knowing it. I just must get the dumbest, richest person out there. Can’t be that hard to find one, right?” She headed to the Beaonish Library, which was the only library where one could find out who was rich or poor. The books in this library tracked every living and dead person and was a valuable resource for all the witches. Lira was looking through the pages when she saw a girl named Sorcery. Even though she was as beautiful as Lira, she was also as smart. Sorcery was an upper gothic civil girl, even though she is turning eight in a month, she was as smart as anyone in his or her thirties. “Hmm, it says that this girl has more than four hundred goneins.” Goneins were the currency used on Demish. Four hundred gonines was the equivalent of more than $500 billion US dollars. “Also says she’s the smartest person of her kind. Hmm … maybe I can trick her into being my friend until I finish school then, but what would I do when I get outta there? Maybe I can still use her, even after graduation. Man, I have so many choices that I must face, but I truly need to get into that school because I know they’ll never let some broke bitch like me in there. Well, I can always just go with the flow and see what happens, and hopefully she doesn’t get smart enough that she’ll know that I’m trying to use her, but let me do more research on this school to see what kind of schooling this place may have in store for us, even after graduating outta the twelfth grade.” Lira copied Sorcery’s contact information and found out what she liked to do with her personal time. She, then, tried to think of a plan to scam Sorcery so that she could help Lira get into the best school that money could buy. She never thought it would take so long just to find her, but in her mind, she wished that she had the power to transfer from point A to point B in a second. “Damn! It’s taking a long time to get to her place. It must be hidden, so nobody can find her castle. I wish I had something that would help me on my quest to find her and make her my tool. I must get into this school, so I can be the greatest evil witch slave owner known to man. I have to make sure that she never knows about any of this, and I have to learn how to be a proper and classy young lady, or maybe just brain wash her simple as that.” About five days later, after trying to find Sorcery’s place, she discovered a building that could help her in her quest. It was kind of a GPS system building, and inside was a magical map wizard. “Yes, young one, how can I help you with your long quest? Come closer, my dear. I need to know what you look like because I can’t see but so far, so what is your name, girly, and what did you come here for? If it doesn’t have to deal with finding a person, and then get the fuck out.” the wizard said. “Well, yes, I need your help finding someone that’s very important to me. See, there’s this girl I need to find that is worth more than gold to me.” “Let me guess, my child. This girl’s name is Sorcery, a beautiful, rich girl, and not just that also a smart person as well. You want to use her, so you can attend that well-known boarding school. This girl may be your ticket to be the best of all the class-act witches. I truly believe you made the best choice with this one, but I truly think you should think very hard about your future.” Lira stopped her dead in her tracks. “Stop talking about all of this bullshit and just tell me where this bastard is, or I swear, on my mother’s grave.” “What? So, you’re going to kill me if I don’t help you? Ha! Ha! Girl, please! You couldn’t even hurt a fly even if it was given to you. Damn! You’re the worse person I’ve ever met. You really need more training before you go any further, my dear.” “You’ve got to be kidding me, your old hag. Now you listen. I don’t need any training from an old bag like you!” “Before I can tell you anything, I must train you because I can see now that you’re not a bit ready to even attend a school like that, you’ll fail after the first year, I can see that now. And I’m saying this just because I know you may get stronger and smarter than Sorcery could ever be. But if you’re a little brat about and don’t want my help, just go home, you just a little homeless brat.” “What in the bloody hell are you talking about your old hag? Are you trying to say I’m not good enough for that goody to shoes rich-ass chick? She couldn’t get passed me if she was the last witch on this planet.” “Yes, I did. What are you going to do about it? Go cry about it? Go run to your mommy?” the older hag replied while floating toward towards Lira’s face. “You know what, your old hag? I know what you’re trying to pull, but it’s not going to work on me at all. Just tell me where this bitch is, or I’ll figure it out for my own damn self!” “Oh, lass, I truly don’t think you really mean that at all. You know that you need my help with this,” she said while Lira walked away. “Oh, Lira, don’t walk away from me. I know that you’ll come back, just like all the others.” “Get the hell outta here, I’m a grown behind woman. I don’t why I thought I needed your help from a stupid old hag as yourself” “Ok. If you feel that way, I’m not going to tell you anything else. Just like I said before, you’ll come back to me and listen to me, or I’ll just be there where you’re at, no matter what. I guess they should’ve told you all about me. I also know this — without me, you won’t know how powerful Sorcery’s background is or how powerful she can get. You are way too smart for your own being, but she can still will outsmart you in every way.” Lira went on her way, trying to find Bradshaw Manor (Sorcery’s home). She was also thinking about what the old lady had told her, that she wasn’t all that ready to be in the school or in life at all, but because of Lira’s hard headedness, and way to stubborn for her own good, she didn’t care what anyone thought about her. She, also, didn’t care what her problems were going to be. At the time, all she cared about was being the best witch and slave driver that ever lived. Oh, yeah, I may not have mentioned it, but, in this witch school, the rules are you couldn’t have a human lover or a mixed witch/mortal human child. That was a crime, in their eyes. It was, also, a sin if a witch did go out with or even married a human. They’d have a difficult future ahead of them if they were caught. She hated the fact that even the school and their world had a stupid way of controlling everyone, and she didn’t like that one bit; she also didn’t care what they truly thought. Whatever Lira wanted was what she always got. It didn’t matter what it cost. That simply did not matter. What she really wanted was a man that acted just like her in every way. She wanted someone who shared her interests, even if it involved murdering someone. She had always loved the smell of fresh blood and flesh. Now after three months of looking, she finally arrives at her place, after breathing so very heavily finally came to her door step. She knew that she had no choice at the last minute that she had to change her clothing, so she wouldn’t look so homeless then maybe Sorcery would be that dumb enough to fall for her tricks. Not just that she also had to sound upscale plus maybe cut down the anger till Lira got to know her. She lied, saying that Sorcery was expecting her and that she had known her for a long time. She told him that it had been a long time since they’d last seen each other. She was worried that Sorcery may not remember her. The butler believed her and let her enter the home, and so did Sorcery. Even in person, Sorcery was the prettiest person ever, but she was not as beautiful as Lira. Sorcery was a classy nerd. She was a different kind of beauty, who was captivating in her own way. No one could ever try to compare her to any other woman because she was in a class by herself. “So, Lira, what brings you to my home? Is there anything that you truly need from me or my folks that you claim to know so well? You know, we’ll do anything for a family member or a close friend?” Sorcery asked while pouring a cup of hot peppermint black tea. “Well, yes, there is. You already know that I don’t have anyone to help me out, but if your parents help me out with my school fare, you know, my parent and I, we’ll pay you back in any way possible. And you, if do this for me, I will be there anytime you need me. With your brains and my personality, Sorcery, we could make the best team. Others would get so damn jealous. So, what do you say?” “I don’t know, Lira. My parents could get a little testy about all of this, and they may have to do some thinking about what we’re doing right now not just that they don’t know you as a person, but I can always ask them about this. I could be wrong, and they may just help you with the funds. We could be strong buddies, and I could show you what my life entails, and you must repay me in another way. But that’s only if you agree with the stuff that I have in store for you, though.” “Sure. You know I’ll do anything to pay you and your folks back for all of this.” “All you have to do is be there for me and help me around the house. And for helping us out, you could stay here for free. How does that sound to you, Lira?” Sorcery explained while facing the fireplace. Her back was facing Lira. Lira got up, stood next to her, and replied, “It sounds great to me, girly.” Sorcery didn’t know that she was making the biggest mistake, one that she would regret later. Sorcery showed Lira the ropes. She taught her how to be a true lady and trained her in everything else that she needed to know before heading to one of the top school that their planet had to offer. After four months, Sorcery told Lira that she was ready to attend school. She told her that she thought she would be a perfect A-list student and that she might even have been able to leave early if she stayed focused like Sorcery did. She also told her that, when they both reached seventeen, they would have to become immortal and carry a book of life and dark magic. They would have to carry this with them no matter what, and if someone destroyed the book or even got caught with a human, they’d turn into a mortal and slowly die less than a week later. They’d turn into dust. This was one of the strictest schools known to man. “This is so damn messed up, Sorcery. Why can’t we do what we want to do? But like I said, with your smarts and my charms and both of our good looks, we may get away with anything we want and what some people only dream of, and when we graduate, we’ll be the best slave masters to those dumb humans, like no one has ever seen before. Maybe we could even kill them if they don’t listen to our demands. We could chop them up into little pieces and eat them while they’re still alive and make them suffer, or is that too much, my dear friend? I don’t want to break any of our school’s rules or our world’s laws.” “Yeah, it does sound like you’re going way too far with this idea. Just take it down a little bit. But I do like one thing that you said. We could be the greatest partners in crime that our world and earth has ever seen. I’ll make sure that no one can ever come between us, no matter what, and I would never let you go at all. I hope you’ll do the same thing.” “You know I would never let a great friend like you go. I’ll always have your back.” Now Lira had Sorcery wrapped around her tiny little finger. She was finally going to the school she’d been dying to go to for so damn long time, even though she had to let Sorcery train her till school started. After each day of training, Lira felt like total hell, but tomorrow was the first day of school, so she had to be ready for that. She should have never let her guard down, no matter what kind of problem that she may have had to face. “Lira, I have to tell you that these classes are very difficult. It’ll get to the point where you’ll wish you were never even born. Trust me. You’re so damn lucky that I’m training you now before it gets any worse, but we may get the worst of them all when we get older, and I truly mean that because they may not tell you that. Plus, like I told you, no soon-to-be immortal witch can ever be with anyone that is outside our race or have a mixed child. We must stay pure, so we don’t get into any trouble, and I also forgot to tell you something that you may want to know. That’s if you want to know because it is very important.” “Yes, I sure would like to know what I have to go against in the present and future.” “Ok. The thing is, they may not tell you that, when you do go to a new planet, there can only be one witch on each of the eight planets of the universe. If there is more than one witch on that planet, the other witches should kill him or her, so you have to watch your back.” “Oh, please! That’s so damn stupid. Who should care if more than one of us is living there? All I care about is me and only me. Sorry, Sorcery. Also, I want to become a witch and make these humans on Earth my slaves. Nothing. If you want to tell me any different, then ok, but we can’t let these rules bother us if we want to become successful, and if you want to disagree with what I believe, then maybe I shouldn’t have come here at all!” Lira yelled while pacing back and forth. “Ok, Lira, just calm down. We can make it, ok? Just didn’t think all of this would get you so angry. I just don’t want anything to happen to you because I’m your friend. Just please calm down, ok?” “Look, Sorcery. I’m sorry. I just don’t want to be told what to do. It’s not like we’re working for them.” Sorcery didn’t realize the trouble she’d gotten herself into with Lira, meaning she was a hot-tempered person that would do anything to destroy anyone that got in her way if they weren’t careful. It also seemed that Lira’s plans were coming true, and when she reached seventeen and became immortal, when she graduates from the academy with honors. She hoped that she’d meet someone that had a lot in common with her and her actions. She hoped that this person would be a cannibal also. So, it was the first day of attending their lives as students. They had to stay there from the third to the twelfth grade, but they had to live there as always. They also couldn’t have any people coming in to visit, not even their parents, unless the upper witches had something to say about their students misbehaving in their corners. Also, they only had to take four classes in person, and the last three classes could be taken online. Yes, they had technology. After a long day of school and studying at their domes, Sorcery and Lira thought it’d be great to go out into town, just to have fun with a few classmates. “Oh, gosh, Sorcery. I want to make a toast to you and the other classmates here to make our more than eleven years from now the greatest time in our lives. We cannot let anyone stand in our fucking way. We cannot let anyone stop us from doing what we are trying to do.” About five hours of partying, they all went back to their place and went to bed. The next morning, they went to class, but this time it was going to get much harder going forward. “Ok, students, have a seat. I know you guys must have had a great first day, but things aren’t going to be as easy as you may think. The first thing I want to tell you is this class is a black magic class. You will learn everything there is to know about black magic. You will not just read about it, but you will gain a lot of hands on experience. And they may or may not have told you that, if you fail this school from third to twelfth grade, you’ll be kicked out and will never be able to come back ever again, you’ll have the clip till you’re die. But you guys may already have your online classes together, and I’m so sorry that you never got to get your items for the ground courses, but here’s what your future evil witches need. Here are your digital witch books. This is going to be your book even when you guys hit seventeen, but the difference would be they’re going to be updated when you grow older. It depends on how well you do your school work. Oh, yes, this will also be your lifeline when you become immortal. When you turn seventeen, that’s when you graduate. Are there any questions about this course at all?” Sorcery raised her hand. “Yes, I have a question that I know most of the others have. What will this school provide after we graduate? I mean, would you guys tell us what planet we’re supposed to go to?” “That’s a good question. No, you guys are on your own when you turn seventeen. You all will be known as grown witches, not children anymore. Also, you guys will become immortal at the same time with your own books, just make sure you guys don’t cause any harm to it. Even being immortal you’ll will die if your books get damage in any way from fire drowning you’ll start to become mortal, age, then become dust. Any other questions? But for now, I will teach you step by step about black magic, and the others will teach how to make others into your slaves and minions. The others will be more difficult than the rest. Most may show you shape shifting to anything that you want, but mostly your inner demon. You’ll learn serious shape-shifting from ninth grade to twelfth grade, but if you learn it sooner, you may graduate earlier than the others. That is if you do it right or if you are at the head of your class. Then, you will graduate early with top honors. Now open your black magic books to the first chapter. We’re going to read all about them and what you need to do in all day things. What I want you guys to do now is make something appear on your tables. It could be anything. A dragon … a dark beast frog … whatever you can come up with. The way that you are supposed to do it can be found in your book.” Everyone did well. Of course, Sorcery and Lira had the greatest dragon. It was better than any witch had ever made before. “Yes. This is what I’m talking about. Great evil job, Lira and Sorcery. You ladies must’ve done your homework. Maybe you other students should learn from them. Then maybe you would be as great as them, but you guys will get there. No worries. It’s just the beginning, but like I said, you guys should’ve already known the basics of evil witchcraft before you guys entered this building. This is kind of like someone who is in the middle class of knowledge of black magic, but it’s ok. Like I said, most of this stuff is going to be harder and brand new to most of you because I know whomever home schooled you all didn’t have the digital things that your newbies have now. We had to do so by our books, and we really struggle with our magic, like no other witch has before, and hopefully it did work, and if we failed, hopefully we had enough items to do it once again. But we do need to get on with it because class is about to be over soon, so let’s just wrap things up for now … till tomorrow. I’ll just let you guys out early. Well, before class ends, I want you guys to answer this question, and you should know this answer from your basic books from home. What happens when you see a human, and she tries not to obey your orders?” “I could tell you that, Miss Kulsum. The answer to that true powers. Do a sneak attack and brainwash the human to the point that she becomes your slave or minion.” Miss Kulsum was one of those crazy types of teachers at the time, and, she was so but beyond ugly at the same time, but she knew what she was talking about. I guess because she had the evilest look towards her with her fucked hair, messed up makeup also the way she gave her speech about giving us lessons about slaving others in your bidding. But I could’ve done a lot better at it that’s just me though. “Wow! Great answer, Lira. You get an A for today. Oh, yeah. Before your next class, I’m going to pass out a paper that will give information about your first project. I know its way too early for a project now, but I want you to do it. I want you guys to team up in groups of twos, and its due in two months. I want Sorcery and Lira to team up because I know you guys will put on a great show, and I hope you guys learn from them and make sure to ask me or these two how black magic is really done. They may have beauty, but they also have a lot of knowledge.” The castle bell rang. “Ok, class, I hope you guys fare well till tomorrow. We will talk more about the project and what you need to do. Oh, yes! Your homework will be to read your books and practice on your black magic because, like they say, “practice makes perfect.” “Oh, Lira, I forgot to mention that this school lets us have long breaks between classes, meaning we don’t have to be on time for the next class, so maybe we could get something to eat.” “Sure. Why not? Maybe we could have some tea and some spider soup at that oh-so-world-famous café. I think the name is Jomiah Café, if I’m correct.” “I love that café. They have the tastiest foods coffee and tea in town. No one can beat them.” After having lunch and tea, they went over their projects and wanted to know what they were going to do. Then they went to the rest of their classes. In their other classes, they learned how to make more humans their slaves and their minions. They worked on their project for two months. When it was time to present it, they presented the greatest black magic show that the school had ever seen. The magic was going to be so grand that’ll blow their socks off “Lira, I think we got this in the bag, and I know we could make these other guys and girls so dang on jealous my dear. We’re going to get the best grade ever.” “Well, maybe but I may do something at the end. I should’ve told you earlier, but sometimes I make my money by being a street performer, meaning I do little tricks like this, so this doesn’t faze me at all. Trust me. We’ll make those teachers and students see something they’ve never seen before, and maybe just maybe, we can leave early but still walk in with our class. Maybe we can make that trip to Earth. I heard of this place called New York City, New York in America. Maybe we could go there. What do you say about that, Sorcery?” Lira asked. “I don’t know, Lira. It seems way too early to even say, but hey, I wouldn’t mind of going. Maybe it could be our graduation gift to ourselves, but, Lira, I want to make sure that you don’t have any weird issues while we’re in the human world,” she replied. “Of course not, my dear. You know I wouldn’t do anything to embarrass you. What kind of friend would I be if I ever did that to you? I love you way too much, Sorcery, and you know that for a fact.” Lira gave Sorcery a hug. While they hugged, Sorcery had an evil grin on her face. “I’m so glad that you’re a loyal friend, Lira. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, girl. You mean the world to me.” “I feel the same way about you, my dear.” Now it was finally their day to show off their projects during the school’s black magic fair. It was kind of like the science fairs that humans have. But this one, instead of being indoors, was outside. One by one, all the students in the first-period class showed off their creations. Many thought they had done ok until Sorcery and Lira were called to show off their amazing work to the whole school to see. The head council or head of state, which was more powerful than the rest, was who commanded Sorcery and Lira to show everyone their work. She was known for being extremely evil. She was so evil that even saying her name made humans want to gasp for air. Even her peers fear her presents no one and I do mean no one stand in her way, sometimes Lira always thought she could out scare this beat up old bat, but she had to get to her level to even be as powerful as head council. Her name was head master Kashum. “Ok, Sorcery and Lira show us what your project is. I believe this is what we all came to see. Because I heard that this past month you guys were turning heads with your magnificent work. I mean, you ladies may have a shot at becoming the big dogs. Maybe someday you could take my chair, but that has never been done. But I don’t want to keep going. Just show us how real true black magic is supposed to be done.” “Yes, your courtship,” they both had said while they bowed down. Lira and Sorcery started to read together one of the best spells that they could find. They made mouths fall to the ground. “Lira, show them what our magic is made of.” “You know I got this, lovely. I’m about to do the best shape shift that our people have ever seen.” Lira turned into a huge demon dragon. She had flaming streaks all along her body. Her scales were black as night. It was the most creative thing that anyone had ever seen before. Even Sorcery was super shocked with what she had done to herself, but in a safe way, Lira was always a step ahead of everyone and wouldn’t let someone step in her way of being a top honor student and maybe leave early. “Oh! You ladies did a hell of a job on your project, and what you did, Lira, left me speechless. So, did you, Sorcery. Plus, I heard a lot about you and your family. I know you’re going to make them proud.” “Thank you, your courtship. You don’t know what your positive words mean to me, and I’ll make sure Lira and I do our hardest to meet your evilest studies and what you want from us no matter what,” Sorcery told the head council. “You can rest assured that we’re be the best evil witches that this planet has to offer. I truly believe Sorcery and I can do so much better as a team than doing it by ourselves,” Lira said. “You’re so current, Lira, and I think I know who should win for this witches’ fair today. Give the first-place award to Lira and Sorcery because they were more creative and evil than the rest. You students need to learn from the best, not just your teachers but from your fellow classmates, such as Lira and Sorcery.” For the next couple of years, Lira and Sorcery were the best in their classes and online classes, making their classmates jealous with envy. The guys wanted to be with them, and the girls wanted to be them. Most of the guys wanted to be with Lira more than Sorcery because of Lira’s lust, charm, and looks. Both girls’ lives, up to this point, had been as sweet as honey. Now that they were seventeen years old, Lira couldn’t wait for this day to come because they were finally seniors and were now becoming immortal. It was bittersweet for both Lira and Sorcery. The reason why it was bittersweet for Lira mostly because she could because immortal and had the knowledge about ruling a planet, not just that could just keep using Sorcery till they reached planet Earth, then fine a human to make them her slaves. After doing so she could just show her true side towards Sorcery. “Hey, Sorcery. Look at us now. We’re finally seniors and will be starting our final year in our school.” “Yes, Lira, I’m so excited about the New Year, and I can’t wait to leave this school and live my own life seeing all the sites, owning some humans also see what they do plus made of, but I still want to be your partner in crime.” Announcements were made. The announcer wanted all senior to be aware about becoming immortal. All the immortal seniors would be getting their Book of Immortality upgraded. They had to keep this book, and it could only be destroyed by someone who was immortal. No mortal or human could destroy our book for any reason at all. The book would be issued to all the seniors at the library any time after their classes ended. “Sorcery, I still can’t believe this is actually happening to us. I mean, I’ll make sure to be there for you like you were for me when we were eight.” “Same goes for me, girl.” For the past couple of days, Lira and Sorcery had continued to be the most popular girls on campus, and no one — and I mean, no one — could touch them. They were way too smart for their own good. Of course, Lira had all them fooled. Even smart as Sorcery was, she was still under the spell of Lira. It was a spell of knowing how to con people and other witches and what not. No matter what, Lira was going to have her way. No matter what, if they didn’t like what she did or had done, she would set them straight. Lira had been thinking about more than just graduation. She was thinking about maybe ditching Sorcery and just going her own separate way. “Oh, dang! Sorcery, I forgot. We need to get those books. Dang! How I could forget that.” “Hey! I can’t blame you for forgetting about the books. Even the smartest witches and mortals tend to forget about even the simplest things. So, don’t let this get to you, Lira. No matter what, you’re the best witch that I’ve ever met. I mean, you’re better than me in every way.” “I think we both are the greatest. We’re going to be the best immortal witches that our planet and planet Earth have ever seen in the history of witchery, and I think everyone’s mouths will drop when they see us in action. I’ll make sure to have your back with anything that our naughty hearts want, but I just wish that we could do the thing they tell us that we are not supposed to do, even though I wouldn’t care what they say.” “And if you do, Lira, you have more balls than a man does. You know you could get in trouble for this because even though we’re out of school, they still could tell us what to do afterward, and you know that, girly. I’m your friend, but I can’t let you get into trouble. I am nerd and want to follow the rules of the game and trade, so I would love to see you behave, but I know you won’t do that at all.” She laughs. Then, she continues, “And knowing you, in the future, you’re probably a bad chick that planet earth has ever did seen. You may become the next ruler of Earth, but I want you to know that you can’t do any dreadful things against our rules. You’ll drive yourself sick. Promise me that, ok, Lira?” “You’re so right about everything. Man, I’m so lucky to have a great friend like you. Sorcery, you mean a lot to me, and I don’t know how to repay you at all.” After getting their black book and immortality, Lira and Sorcery still made the best grades in witch history. They were the best out of all their classmates, teachers, and higher leaders of their planet. They never thought this day would ever come, but their wishes had come true. Now the time had come for their graduation. Everyone showed up for the greatest day for seniors everywhere. Lira and Sorcery were very proud of themselves, knowing they had made it this far in their progress and in their success, but Sorcery wouldn’t know what Lira had up her sleeves till after they landed in New York, New York. She would learn soon enough, so I don’t want to keep running my mouth about it. So, after the graduation, they went to a local bar to celebrate their graduation. “Oh, Lira! We had made it, and I may be drunk and all, but you’re the greatest friend that a witch could wish for. Everyone, listen! I want to make a toast for my main girl, Lira. She made all this a reality for me. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be standing here today. I am a free woman, and, man, I’m dizzy as hell, but other than that, here’s to Lira! Please give a tap on the glass.” Everyone tapped their glasses in honor of Lira. “Thanks, Sorcery, but I have to say that I don’t need to be thanked because it’s the other way around. You made me the witch that I am today, but it’s also a teamwork kind of thing, and you’re a devoted friend. You’re like no other being that I’ve ever known. You’re truly a special friend who I see as a sister.” Sorcery was so happy that she would be that nice to her, but everyone knew Lira from the past and knew that she was up to no good. Everyone also knew that she was using Sorcery. All they packed for their move to New York were their clothes, spell book, and spell items. But they had to look for a place to stay before they could move out on their own. They decided that they would leave the next day. Right when they arrived in New York, they wanted to find something to do. One thing that they learned immediately was that being on Earth meant being in a way different time zone. They were in New York City during the 1940s and 1950s, when gangsters were hot and sinister, and where New York was filled with shiny lights and the greatest, hottest shows. “I’m so glad that we’re out of that stupid school of ours. I want to see if we can find a great male slave and have our single mingle kind of thing. Man, they wouldn’t know what to do with our charm.” “But, Lira, you know we can’t date any mortal, even after graduation. We took a pledge. You know that,” Sorcery said with a worried look upon her face. “Who cares? It’s probably someone we could use as either a slave or a partner in crime. Plus, who knows? This person could be more than just a slave or a partner.” Then there was something going on while the women were in the town square. Everyone was running toward some shopping center. Lira and Sorcery wondered what the screaming was all about. When Lira saw a woman, she yelled out to her, “You, woman, we want to ask you something important. What’s going on?” “Girl, you don’t know that we have a famous formal male model here in our town. Oh, my god! He has the prettiest blue-green eyes that I ever did see. They claim that he’s a bad boy, too. Just wish that I could get a piece of that hotness. He has a greaser kind of look, but really you need to look for yourself.” the strange woman replied while she was walking away, toward him. And there he was, just as sweet as an apple and sour as a lemon. “Of course, I love a man who can be more controlling than I am, and he seemed like such a bad boy as well.” Lira said. And that was what she wanted in a guy with his red hair all slicked back, wearing a leather jacket. He had a baby face, and he was also buff as hell. His name was Jim Woods, a single man, and Lira wanted a man who was like her. He was a real man. “Sorcery, do you think I could get a sexy man like him in my life and make him my slave or work as a team?” “I don’t know, lass. Remember what they said at our school?” They said it at the same time, “We can’t marry or date someone who’s not an immortal like a vampire, witch, or werewolf.” “Yeah, how many times are you going to say that already? Like I said, I truly don’t care. He’s just way too hot to let go. And I don’t want to take him home to my mom or dad, so you better back the fuck off me, ok, Sorcery?” “Yeah, Lira. I got it. Just calm down, ok? It wasn’t all that fucking serious. Geez!” But Lira didn’t realize that she and Jim had a lot in common with each other. She never knew that he had a twin brother named Tony, who was more of a bad boy than he was and who had more of a jealous streak because his twin brother Jim got more women than he did. Jim and Lira started dating right off the bat. It was love at first sight. “So, Jim, you never told me that you were such a bad boy, so what do you really do for a living? I’m a witch, an evil one at that, and I love a guy that can tell another mortal what to do. That really turns me on. I bet you’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” “Well, you can say I am a bad boy,” he said it with a devilish look in his eyes. “I know some magic, as well, my sexy lady. Maybe I can show you what I can do.” “Oh, yeah? I would love to have a slave or two in my collection, if you can catch my drift. Oh, my God! I don’t know what to say, my sexy lover. You’re the man I’ve been waiting for all my immortal life.” Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that Jim and Lira were about forty years apart. She was seventeen, and he was fifty-seven. Age to them truly didn’t matter at all. They still loved each other and loved to make people their slaves, and if they didn’t get what they wanted, they’d just kill them in a horrible way. Afterward, they would chop them into little pieces and eat them. Her longtime friend, Sorcery, didn’t like the new Lira. She knew she was evil but not to the point of going completely insane. Of course, Sorcery now wondered if Lira really had changed or if she had always been this way. “Oh, baby, I love when we rule other mortals. I enjoy doing this with you so much.” “Me, too, my love, and I also love how we kill and eat their bodies when they don’t listen to us. It’s such a turn on, makes me want to do you so much more than ever.” “Oh, my god, Jim. You’re also turning me on, as well. I just want to take your clothes off and take control of you in my bed.” “Damn, Lira! You make me want to marry you so badly. So, Lira, will you marry me, my sexy-ass witch?” “Oh, yes! I do, my sweet. You’re the only one I want to rule this world with. Let’s make it our own, my love, and teach these mortals who’s boss, baby.” Then they passionately kissed each other with a ring of fire surrounding their love and hate. While planning their dark evil wedding in Jim’s home town, New York, New York, USA, Lira’s friend looked at her and asked her, “Lira, do you think he’s the right guy for you? And do you think you’re doing the right thing? I think you’re moving way too fast, and I think he’s using your magic for himself. I know we’re supposed to be evil and all, but I think this is going to go wrong for you. I’m very worried that the school is going to find out somehow.” “I truly don’t think this could ever go wrong in any type of way, and I think I would know if he was using me. I hope you know I have powers that you could never understand. I’m more powerful than you or those dumbass teachers. I want sexy-ass Jim all to myself. I think you’re just jealous just, like his twin brother Tony is. I told you one time that you should go out with one of the mortals because they’re so much better in and out the bed than those lame-ass, evil fuckers, and when I saw Jim for the first time, it was love at first sight. If you have a problem with who I am marrying, then you just must suck it up and deal with it. Be happy that I found someone that I really want and who wants me. For some reason, we have a lot of things in common. Me and him are both evil. We love making people our slaves, and we also love to kill and eat others, if they don’t listen to us.” “Ok, Lira, whatever you say, but I hope it doesn’t work for you at all. I’m being serious about this, but you know what, girl? I’ve had your back since we were in the third grade. I’m the only person you’ve ever could count. I’m the only you can trust. And I’ve always been there if anything goes wrong. But now that I’ve warned you, don’t come to me and ask me to help because I’ll be the one to say that I told your fucking ass so!” This was the first time that they had ever had a fight ever in their lives. “You know what, lass? I’m marrying him. I don’t care what you or those dumb teachers say. He’s mine and I’m his. This is our day to shine and to show you and those dumb teachers what we must offer as a couple. I’m Lira, the hot, sexy, supernatural witch, and I’m proud of it. If you have a problem, then that’s fine by me.” Meanwhile Jim and Tony planned for the wedding also. “So, bro, you’re finally getting married. Man, this means you can’t flirt with no other girl. Ha! Ha! Man, you’re so damn sorry. I can’t believe that you, my famous twin brother, the ladies’ man who has never let anyone stand in his way, letting a girl tie you down to the ground. What kind of spell did she cast to make you think she was the one for you?” Tony said, while shaking his head. He placed his hand was on Jim’s shoulder. “Well, Tony, you have to realize, like you said, I’m a ladies’ man. No woman can resist me, but for some reason, she has something that no other girl had. She did what no other girl could do for me. She turned me on to killing people, eating them, making them our slaves, and something about her makes her just the top queen of them all. She can’t be stopped. She’s just pure evil, and that’s what I want in a woman. She’s just like me but much better. I just can’t believe that I finally have an evil angel in my hands.” “Are you sure that you’re in love with her? Are you sure you’re not just using her for her magic and because she’s an evil witch? But you know what? I’m proud of you, man. I thought I was going to be the one who got a hot girl like that, but you got one that tops them all, man.” “She’s my world, my everything. I mean, she’s so damn sexy. I want her to have my child.” Jim didn’t know that Tony and Sorcery were working together to expose Lira and Jim’s secret to the school, and her planet include their hometown. They wanted to let everyone know that Jim and Lira were going out and planning to get married, but they were trying to wait for the perfect time. They wanted to wait until they had a child or two. Honestly, they never thought it was going to happen because an immortal witch and a mortal slave master had not met and fallen in love in over one thousand years. Like they always say, sometimes love comes in all forms, and you never know where you will find it, even if the two people have different faiths and are different forms of life. Sorcery never thought this would come to the point where she would have to turn her best friend in, but she also felt that Lira was trying to use her as a slave as well. She also didn’t realize that Tony was using her to get back at his twin brother because he wanted Lira and Sorcery for their magic for his own selfish needs. Like I said before hand, Tony was more of a bad boy than his twin brother Jim, and I do mean way worse, so he was trying to trick Sorcery into telling her teachers and the other witches about the relationship. He also wanted to work with her to get them punished for their bad deeds. “My dear Sorcery, we can get them to marry and afterward tell your school about them. Then maybe, just maybe, we can work together and put our brains together and take over this country and maybe the world. How do you feel about that, my dear?” Sorcery used a spell to lift Tony up in the air. While he was in the air, she choked him, gave him an evil stare, and yelled forcefully, “Look. After this, I don’t want to see you again. Do you understand? After this, I don’t want to hear from you ever again!” Then, she threw Tony back down with such force till it almost broke most of his joints. “Damn, girl! What’s your problem? Do you think I was trying to use you or something like that, but you know what? You need my help. Like I said, we can take over this world and make these people our zombie slaves. What do you say? Are you going to just walk away from the best thing that you could ever happen, or are you going to run behind Lira and not get credit for a damn thing? Why not make your journey into this world worth it?” Sorcery stopped for a minute and thought about all the years that she had spent with Lira. She realized that Lira, since she had met Jim, had not spent one minute with her. She also realized that she had no choice but to work with Tony. She wasn’t sure if she should trust him. If you remember, he’d wanted to trick her to gain her power, instead of work as a team. He wanted to get rid of Jim and Lira and make Sorcery his magical slave. He would force her to make him immortal so that he could rule over all of mankind and make everyone his “zombie slaves.”

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