#i took a giant 1+ year break from attempting
Text
i might re-enter my reality shifting era
1 note
·
View note
Text
Wanna Make Something Of It?: A Justice League International Retrospective: Justice League #1 Review
Keith Ian Giffen
1952-2023
"I"m sick of Darkseid, Darkseid has been passed
around the DC Offices like a Bong"
Hello all you happy people and happy birthday to me. Each year either on or around my birthday, or in this case a month later because the end of 2023 was a cold and carpal tunnel hellscape and 2024 opened with bronchitis, I take a look at something special to me, something that means something: From the first apperance of the Legion of Substitute Heroes, to the first volume of Scott Pilgrim, to Scott Pilgrim Vs the World , to last years look at the uncanny x-men's rebirth with Giant Sized X-Men #1, i've always set aside my birthday to reflect on my past and celebrate it with something I truly love.
This year I decided on that.. for reasons that still break my heart. On October 9th at the ripe age of 70 Comics Legend and personal inspiration of mine Keith Giffen.. passed away. He had a long, good life and created countless amazing stories and characters.. but his loss will be a void that can never quite be filled.
For those who hadn't heard of him, Keith was a comic book writer who's best known for his work at DC, having helped redefine the Legion of Super Heroes and Darkseid with the legendary Great Darkness Saga alongside Paul Levitz, created the main man Lobo, the fourth wall breaking before it was cool Ambush bug, the incomprable Jamie Reyes whose first arc I covered this year, and of course, the one punch, the only, the bwahahah-ey Justice League international.
If your asking why it took this long to eulogize him if I respected him so much, the answer is simple: I didn't know. In an age where if someone dies it's usually blasted onto my news feed, even if I don't exactly google that person every day, I had NO idea Keith was dead till reading an amazon review.. which is the kind of sick irony he'd find hilarous, so I have that, but not exactly the way to find out one of your personal heroes died. So I scrapped my original birthday review plan (Letterkenny's Three Wise Men For the Curious) and decided to start a project i've been mulling over for a while now. So welcome folks to Wanna Make Something Of It: A Justice League International Retrospective, an ocasoinal look at this long run.
JLI has an intresting history to it so if you'll sit down i'll tell you
The Not Really Secret Origin of the Justice League International
It was the late 80's and DC Comics had just undergone a massive reboot with Crisis on Infinite Earths, the first true big event comic as we know them with tie ins and a massive reboot in the end as Editorial had felt the various alternate earths had made things too complicated. So a big blue murder man named the Anti Monitor tried to wipe out all of creation, leaving only five earths: Earth 1, where most of the action took place, Earth 2 where the heroes of the Golden Age, the Justice Society of america and their various successors lived, Earth 4, where the recently aquiried heroes of Charlton Comics like Blue Beetle, Peacemaker and Captain Atom resided, an earth not concidentally introduced for this crossover, Earth S, home of the Shazam/Captain Marvel Family, and Earth X, a world where the nazi's won WWII and only the freedom fighters stood in opposition. Basically any heroes DC felt like keeping and their shiny new toys.
The result was a new one world earth with a fresh coat of paint to let in new readers. It wasn't without issues: several corners of the DCU got torn up with my beloved Legion of Super Heroes getting some of the worst of it, with every resonable attempt to fix the retcons or bring characters back.. being shot down AFTER the story had already been started or happened, eventually leaving such a giant mess they rebooted in the 90's, while many a hero was left without an origin or clear history, Donna Troy having to have her origin redone again now her connection to wonder woman was gone, Hawkman became a hawk mess in part thanks to this very book, story for another time, and much more I don't have the time or patience to get into right now.
There was a lot of good in it though, as the reboot left room for new heroes like self promotional himbo with a heart of gold, Booster Gold, the now DC flavored Blue Beetle, and more, and for some the fresh start was badly needed, revitalizing Superman, and giving Wonder Woman and out and out reboot that, while taking her history away, exchanged it for one of the best runs on the character ever via George Perez. And eventually, after some growing pains, it gave us room for an all new flash after a lengthy murder storyline left Barry running out of steam. For all the damage it did i've learned over the years, the crisis still did a LOT of good and helped a lot of characters find their place in this brave new world.
One property vital to DC that needed this was the Justice League of America. A few years before the crisis, DC had noticed the sales of the League were down, and tried to revitalize it: the result was a book I hope to read and cover one day.. still called Justice League of America bu tknown to most as Justice League Detroit. The IDEA was good: feeling the league was a bit scattered after a martian invasion destroyed their iconic satalite headquarters, Aquaman called for them to disband and only those who could commit full time rejoin, leaving it with just him, Martain Manhunter, Zantanna and The Elongated Man. They soon added some fresh recurits in the cyborg steel, the horribly named in hindsight but loveable for her father daughter relationship with the Martain Manhunter, Gypsy and the sterotype tastic Vibe, who'd later be heavily reworked for the better by the flash tv series.
The idea was good but even from what defenders I could find after googling the team, the book had the good IDEA of making the team more of a surrogate family like the Titans or X-Men, but simply didn't seem to pull it off. It's part of why i'd love to look at it some day: the roster is good, with even the rookies being intresting Even Vibe at least had intresting power, a low income background not really see in the Justice League at that point, and cool shades.. even if him break dancing was very much
So I do really want to read this run and possibly cover it and if you'd like me to, let me know. It intrests me.
But while it intrests me now, no one at the time was really biting so DC decided to pull the plut. It really didn't help that , thanks to the crisis.. DC now had a wide buffet of characters they could suddenly ad to the league like Captain Marvel, the Charlton gang, and Dr. Fate.
So the team got the axe in the ties ins for Legends, DC's next big event that was also designed to bring the new team together. Legends has another really cool concept: Darkseid, god of evil and dc office bong , wanted to break earth's heroes for defying him so he could finally claim it and thus came up with Operation: Humilation. He sent his lackey Glorious Godfrey to earth , becoming tele-evanglist and far right loon G Gordon Godfrey, inspired by the times and sadly still relevant. Godfrey lit up an anti superhero fervor, causing Ronald Regan to ban superheroes while Godfrey spread the message of hate, helped by Godfrey setting up Captain Marvel to seemingly kill one of Darkseid's minons who was in fact a robot designed to die and scar a 12 year old for life.
The problem is the series is a bit too fast paced for it's own good, taking a message on how hate movements like this spread oh so easily with the power of tv, and speed running it so we go from Godfrey using real life hate tactics that are chillingly relevant, to the point we get scenes with a crowd nearly killing a 12 year old jason todd or a cop killing his partner after said partner lets Black Canary go then blaming her for making him do it, to ... him making people into murder dogs and storming the captial. In three issues. You have to nearly burn the country down to get people to do a insurrection everyone knows that.
On top of that like many an event after.. a lot of it's about setting up tie ins instead of it's core story so we get stuff like Jason being saved happening off panel or Darkseid deciding to take superman off the board.. and then doing it in a tie in.
That brings us to Justice League where one of the biggest fallouts of this event.. happens entirely in it's own book. I'm split on this as on the one hand, the end of the Justice League of America should happen in it's own book.. but on the other given they brought in another writer to end the book, I don't see why they didn't just cancel it early and say "To be continued in legends" and have Godfrey tied into the league's ultimate end instead of Amazo.
Alas instead Amazo and Despero clean house leaving the league battered, demoralized and in the cases of Vibe and Steel dead. Everyone whose left leaves.. .everyone except the person it means the most to, the person who almost never left and whose the heart and soul of the league for the Martain Manhunter vows it'll live on.
Cue the finale of Legends: With things escalating quickly, Dr. Fate, DC's Resident Mysterious Magic Man, gathers a bunch of heroes together to put an end to this: Batman, Martian Manhunter, Blue Beetle (Ted Kord), Black Canary, Green Lantern (Guy Gardner), The Flash (Wally West), Beast Boy (Going by Changeling back then), Mister Miracle (Scott Free), Superman and Captain Marvel (The future Shazam) to put an end to this, with Jonn clinching the heroes return to legality by coming in the save and Wonder Woman making her debut to the superhero community post-crisis by jumping in to help. The day is saved , and a new justice league is formed from the ashes of the old.
So you may be asking: Why this roster and why aren't Wonder Woman, Superman, the Flash and BB on the cover? Let's explore that under the cut as we delve into why this roster, the creative team for the actual book, and the first issue itself shall we?
Roll Call:
So you'd probably think given how team books work nowadays that future writers Keith Giffen and JM Demattis picked this team themselves, with maybe a member or two picked by dc editorial. It's what I assumed.. but nope, DC picked the team themselves, which .. does kinda bother me. A creator should really pick their own roster as chemistry is VERY important to a team book. It speaks to Giffen, DeMattis and Macguire's talents that, even dropping a few members in issue 7, the book comes off as natural as it does and said drops come off less as "this person we were saddled with isn't working" and more "they simply didn't fit into the group so we used the big rebrand to shuffle them out". DC may of picked the roster, but to their credit they choose well. As giffen himself put in the introduction of a collection of the first few issues back in 2008 "That call was DC's to make and as it turned out.. not too shabby"
So before we got into the actual book and who made it, I wanted to take a second to explore this roster as I wanted to show WHY DC might have choose them as I couldn't find any info on why this roster was picked, and simply have my edcuated guesses to go on
First who WASN'T added despite being front and center in legends: Each of the four members cut from the roster so to speak have good reasons for not being in the team. Beast Boy is the most obvious: he was never going to be in the League to begin with, they most likely wanted a titan to represent their flagship book for the crossover and choose one of the most popular.
For the Flash, Wally's a bit more of an actual misdirect as given he hadn't shown up since his decision not to take up the mantle, this was his big coming out party as the flash, with Wally deciding to embrace his mentors roll. It's also why he didn't take it up in story and likely out: he just put on the tights and didn't feel ready for the league just yet and the character would need some time in his own solo before it made since to plop him in a team book.
For Superman and Wondy it's also simple: Superman was being rebooted: He still had a LOT of his history, but major parts of it like his time in the Legion as Superboy or his cousin Kara were cut out, major villians were revamped, and his world was reshaped for the 80's while Diana was flat out rebooted by George Perez after sales had pretty much died pre-crisis, with said run now being one of my favorite comics and one I can't wait to complete some day and share with you all.
So that left the All New, All Diffrent Justice League with a roster consisting of Batman, The Martian Manhunter, Blue Beetle, Captain Marvel (Now known as the Captain or Shazam), Dr. Fate, Black Canary, Mister Miracle and Green Lantern (Guy Gardner). So for those of you less familiar with some of these guys, let's get aquanited, as well as figure out why DC choose them.
Batman: Batman is here because he's batman.. I could end it there but that'd leave the question of why Bats was okay to go but SUperman and Wonder WOman weren't. The answer is simple: Batman.. didn't get rebooted by Crisis. Things were changed like Jason Todd's backstory, some villians erased, some bits of history tinkered with, but that was standard for most post crisis heroes. He'd have a new defentiive origin with Frank Miller's year one, but Denny O'Neil had already soft rebooted batman back in the 70's, so he wasn't in as big of a rut. Crisis took out weird shit from the silver age that I love but understand why maybe it's best reinstated as a drug hallucination, thank you Grant Morrison, and Earth 2 batman, but it really didn't change who Bruce was, his status quo etc. Batman was selling well, Dick Grayson was super popular over in New Teen Titans, it was something DC knew wisely not to fuck with. Granted I haven't gotten as hands on with just after the crisis batman as I have Superman or Wonder WOman, so I could be wrong, but most of the changes were to villian backstories, stuff that was necessary and handy, but not things that really shook up who Batman was or what stories were going on with him like Superman and Wonder Woman. And since Batman is a lisense to print money, for better or worse, they stuck him on this team.
Martain Manhunter: The Martain Manhunter is Jonn Jonzz, a cop from mars who got accidently kidnapped by an old man to earth and took up resdiense as a detective. Jonn would get a full mini establishing who he was post crisis I have not read by Giffen and Dematties but i'm now dying to now I know it exists. Jonn was a founding member of the justice league and a big hero during the silver age, and comes off as the JLA equilvent to the Avengers Wasp, not in terms of character, Janet and Jonn aren't like each other in the slightest but I do think they'd hang, but in being a hero who has a storied career almost entirely tied to one of their unvierses big super teams, but not much solo wise. The former has meant he's been bounced around a bit and even left out of the team in the new 52 for cyborg, but also means he's a treasured part of it, an elder statesman who gives the team a sense of a heart among a floating lineup. He also gives the team a power house, having most of superman's powers PLUS telepathy and shapeshifting. Jonn is one of my faviorite DC heroes owing to the justice league cartoon
Guy Gardner: Guy is an odd duck in that both John Stewart and Hal Jordan were wearing the ring, this being the first time all three earth lantern's wore it, so WHY Guy was chosen out of the three was a mystery given JOhn was, as far as I know, popular even then and Hal was the old reliable, back before everyone was sick of that and wanted them to remember they had 7 or so people more intresting.
Guy was Hal's understudy. He literally didn't get the ring.. because Hal Jordan was closer, and thus was picked to become a space cop later. He was depicted intially as a school teacher before being resculpted into a jingoisitc asshole by Steve Engleheart, something that was cemented and fleshed out here. He also has a three stooges haircut, something I feel adds to his asshole charm and feel had to be brought up at some point.
Dr. Fate: Dr Fate is kent nelson, a vetran of the JLA's predecessor, the Justice Society of America. Originally the JSA was part of Earth 2, but was merged with Earth 1 so now they simply.. existed before our heroes, retired due to Mcarthyism, then came back into action when the new age of heroes launched, with deaging and such used to explain how their still around. Fate was chosen likely because he looks neat, they needed a magic guy, and they wanted a JSA rep on the team. He.. didn't really quite fit as it was clear DC didn't know quite what they were doing with him yet.
Blue Beetle: My boy ted, who I've already covered on this blog before, but this is his shining moment. For those less familiar or who missed the underated blue beetle film, Ted is an inventor who found out his uncle was planning to take over the world with an army of robots, and enlisted his close friend Dan Garret, who turned out to be the OG blue beetle and sacrificed his life to stop Ted's Uncle, passing on the mantle but not the magical alien beetle. Ted compensated by building a ton of gadgets, having plnety of quips and generally being plesant. Ted was part of Charlton Comics, a company DC had bought recently, and having his own series at the time, being fairly popular, and having an outfit created by Steve Ditko himself, he was a shoe in and a nice pick from the b-list. Grante di'm biased and this series is entirely WHY, but Ted's a fresh face in the dcu who comes in hot with plenty of experince and a cool ship for the group to fly around.
Black Canary: Dinah Lance was changed by the crisis, going from an immigrant from earth 2 to the daughter of the original. She was also made a founding member of the justice league to replace Wonder Woman because she as the only prominent dc heroine who who would've been active at the time. And yes she's wearing THIS for her time in the JLI
And honestly it's.. meh. I think they were trying to give her a less casual look, but the fishnets and black leather jacket just fit. Sometimes a superhero just needs something anyone could wear in the right order to have a super outfit. I'm not against civlian style costumes if it fits the hero and dinah's just.. fits. This one just dosen't suit her as it's a bit too bombastic.
Dinah's likely here both for her new jsa connection and new jla founder status. She's also here because the team needed a female member, alongside dr. light, who we'll get to later.
Captain Marvel: Billy is easy. While DC had aquiried their former rival Fawcett back in the 70's, and thus one of the best superman immitators there ever was and ever will be, Billy had been on earth S since they bought him, and like Dr. Fate is there to show off how the earths are all merged now. He's also another power house, and was someone dc was trying to push. DC.. never really knows HOW to push captain marvel and i'm hoping his current series by Mark Waid helps. If you haven't read it check it out, it's possibly the characters best that i've been able to have acess to (Since DC hasn't reprinted the golden age stuff quite yet). For those who haven't heard of him, Billy Batson is a ten year old who was chosen by a wizard to become his champion and thus can act out the movie big but with superman powers whenever he wants. I love him dearly and wish DC knew how to market him.
Mr. MIracle: Last but not least Mr Miracle is Scott Free. Scott is part of the new gods, Jack Kirby's big contribution to DC that also included bong of evil Darkseid. To keep the peace Darkseid and his counterpart Highfather did a son swap, HIghfather getting Darkseid's angsty son Orion and Darkseid getting Scott, who he gave to Granny Goodness, the God of Child Abuse, who gave him othe name to mock how he'd never be free. Naturally this strategy backfired as it only fired up young Scott to escape, becoming the escape artist, hero and wife guy mr miracle. The last part came courtsey of big barda, another one of Granny's charges who came to take Scott back, but was convinced that maybe hellpits weren't the best place to live, and married him in Kirby's last issue on the two. Scott is here to emphasis the new gods,s something DC was playing with more post crisis. His manager Oberon, a cheery fella with Dwarfism, is also here because Demattis and Giffen had a lot of material for the guy it turned out and Oberon is essentially the team's guy in the chair.
So with this motely crew assembled let's see what this dynamite creative team did with them as we begin the storied history of the justice league international... the international part comes later.
Starting with the cover. While usually i'll skip these in an analysis, it's both a habit I need to break and would be a criminal act here as the cover for Justice League #1 is my faviorite comic book cover of all time and my faviorite to see an homage of.
It's simple, but it's perfect. The group shot is well deisgned, showing everyone off, but in a way that's diffrent from the usual action poses we get. Their clearly ready to kick your ass then their gonna fuckin kick your ass, but it's in a way that's unique, shows the team's unity. It also is taken so seriously here.. that it makes it ripe for jokes later in the series. The wanna make something of it ffrom guy both echoes the tough image their going for.. but fits the goofy tone the series is really going to have as it settles in. This comic has been homaged to oblivion and rightly so. Even Keith's memorial image dc put out is this but with Keith and all his creations.
We open the issue proper with a declaration.
It's one of my faviorite opening pages in a comic: It's beautifully drawn by artist Kevin Maguire, sets up the setting well and sets up guy as having his head firmly up his own ass.. it's why he has the bowl cut you see, helps him get it up there nice and tight.
The issue smartly introduces the cast one or two at a time, letting each character get a proper introduction and seeing how they bounce off each other as they file in.
So first in is Black Canary, who marvels at their old headquarters recent reneovations. Our heroes start the run in the Secret Sanctuary, the Justice League's first headquarters built into a mountain in Happy Harbor Road Island. And if it seems familiar to some of you, it should as after the JLI were done with it the Doom Patrol moved in for a bit during Grant MOrrison's Run. Most famously and lastingly, Young Justice, another team I have to cover at some point, made this their main hq, the only team to really make it a home that wasn't a justice league. And to prove that point the JSA also stayed here briefly. It's this weird go to for teams who need a headquarters for five minutes.
Anyways Dinah remembers the good times and all the ghosts, guy's a dick about it humming the twilight zone theme, and assumes he and Dinah will have a sam and diane thing and not a "Stay 50 feet away at all times thing".
Next up is Mister MIracle, whose nervous about the gig, not sure if he belongs there. Out of the leaguers Scott tends to stick to the back, not shy or afraid to speak up when needed, but not as outspoken as his team mates. This nicely contrasts oberon whose all too happy for the box office as even if this lasts a cup of coffee. He's less happy when Guy makes a shot at his dwarfisim and Oberon's grumbling is hilarious.. as would've been him decking guy but we still got a few issues till someone finally does that.
Billy zooms in, shocked by all the press, showing his naivitie: even after all he just went through... Billy is still a bit shocked by just how profile this is and happy to be there. Enter the boys, Martain Mahunter and Blue Beetle, with Jonn not forgetting the whole LEgends fiasco so soon, and having a bit of a mope... though he soon makes a valid point to ted as he turns on the computer.. and shows the Detroit League. It's a nice reminder that even if the team wasn't like.. they were still close and still Jonn's proteges.. and most most of them are dead and those that arent quit due to the trauma. So doing this, while something he feels is necessary. Cue Guy banging a gavel and declaring the meeting started
We then cut to the offices of innovative concepts where we meet the heart and galbladder of this run, Maxwell Lord, a mysterious man in a suit whose watching a row of tv's. Max isn't evil like he'd later be retconned into being.. but he is VERY shady at this point, watching all the coverage on the league and in one of my faviorite subtle little things scratching the "of america' part out of the legue's name on a pad of paper.
I want to take a minute to point out macguire's facial work.. i'ts incredible, nicely detailed, realistic, but still cartoony enough to have tons of personality. Just looking at max you get his smugness, ego and sense of control all at once with him having barely said or done anything. There's been plenty of masterminds sitting behind a row of tv's, but you get Max's vibe immedietly while still wondering what his deal is and what he wants with the team, the latter being the main mystery of the books first year.
Back at the Sanctuary, Dinah and Guy argue as SHOCKINGLY the experinced vetran with an eye for the teams legacy dosen't want sylvester calzone here running things. Oberon TRIES to intervene on Dinah's beahlf but get's literally brushed off and Jonn trying to be an adult in teh room.. gets Guy picking him up and making a green giant joke, both funny, both well done.. and enough to get even JONN pissed enough to enter a brawl.
Cue the goddamn batman.. and dr. fate whose here too. That's.. really fate's roll for their time on the team, their just.. here. While Giffen and Demattis did really try to work with most of the roster they were given, seeing who worked and who didn't, Dr. Fate just didn't fit this team. As you can see already.. a key part of this team is disfunction. Some become true companions eventually, but it's mostly a bunch of personalities that barely function together, fairly normal people who put on tights. It's the charm of the series: instead of just getting along or having the usual angst, these guys just make digs at each other and amble along, but DO get the job done and do deserve to be called the justice league. It's just a version of said league that dosen't take itself seriously and has fun with it, and that treats this group like people. Normally the Guy Gardner in the group would just be ingorned but because he actually DOES have the power to toss people around (and props to the creative ways he does), it leads to an actaul brawl.
Fate... doen't fit into this. Fate is an enigma, mysterious and distant. So they simply.. don't work well in a jokey sitcom. It's clear the duo LIKE the character, they'd reinvent him soon enough, but he just didn't fit what they were going for.
So that begs the question how BATMAN does.. and he answers it, cowing everyone else into stopping it and getting guy to sit down before dryly reading out the charter. Bats is the boss in this workplace sitcom, and he's a mean one, being an utter dick to dinah at one point.
This moment horks me off.. but it's also a perfect encapulation of batman's leading style: shut up do what I say. Even someone whose his EQUAL , and who founded the team before him and thus has senority, he just tells them to shut up when she's making a valid point: their fidgity because this meeting is nervous nad because they just went through some crap. What I like is that despite having BATMAN.. the dream team dosen't glorify him. He's still batman, he shuts down the room with a glare, is a tactical genius and thus great at leading in the battlefield.. but it's very clear even this early on he simply.. can't lead this team well. He has a barking "do what I tell you style" and expects them to be good soldiers, treating them like a group of sidekicks instead of experinced heroes.
It's not something the group pull out of thin air either: Batman used to have a team of his own, the Outsiders, formed after Batman walked out on the league for refusing to let him rescue Lucius Fox and turned in his badge when Clark wanted him to sit this one out as a league member. He found a bunch of other heroes along the way, and choose to make them into a team, but it was very clear that the outsiders were partners, and weren't treated as full equals, with the exception of Black Lightning who Bruce felt was on his level. He wasn't bad to the team, helping find the younger amnesaic Halo a home, setting them up with day jobs, but his style is very much "listen to me or there's the door. "
The problem is while the outsiders were mostly fresh faces to being heroes or out of practice like metamorpho or black lightning, Bruce can't let that guard down even whent he heroes have more than proven themselves. It popped up in a crossover with the New Teen Titans where he started ordering that team around, with Dick eventually having to tell him to shut the hell up and let Dick lead his own damn team.
So while it's midly grating here it fits: Batman is so determined to keep this league together he's treating them like his backup i nstead of experinced heroes, two of whom HE'S BEEN ON THE LEAGUE WITH BEFORE.
Anyways Bats does have ONE good point in his leadership so far: he wants the team to keep a low profile. While it's hard given the army of camera's outside, the team dosen't know each other, hasn't trained together yet, and needs time to be in full shape. After all they just barely got superheroes back in the popular opinon: while Godfrey DID juice up people's emotoins, it dosen't mean it won't swing back to negative easily if they fuck up.
Unfortuantely for them... someone else has other ideas.. and i'ts not fate because their in the room. At the UN Kimyo Hoshi is in the bathroom puzzled by receving a JL signal device from Max and not sure if she'll accept.
Kimyo is the second Dr. Light, a hero unlike her predecessor and a scientest from Japan who got her powers during the crisis. She.. wont' be here long as while the issue plays her up as a member on the cover, she never fully joins the league. More on that in the future. For now she exits the bathroom.. to find herself a hostage. Terroists have taken the UN. THankfully she activates the device and while Batman's very confused dr. light has one, rallies the team to go anyway.
Naturally Brucey Boy is cautious, having most of the team get in the bug, while he sends Fate and Billy to scout ahead. Guy WANTS to but Batman's response to the idea of sending a human bulldozer who barely listens to him into a tense hostage situation?
The team enters and despite the disfunction so far... it goes easily: Guy seals the premiters and probably invents some new swears, beetle does his best as the guy in the chair in the bug
And Fate.. well fate left and told Billy batman would understand and left the ten year old to explain this.
The league clean house.. but Batman notices a problem: these guys are ameture, clumsy and their equipment is oudated. Something else is going on here.
Time for that is passed soon though as Guy dive sin and finishes the job quickly. It's a nice sequence overall that shows the team REALLY is this good: this is a setup sure, but they don't know that. The lead terroists plans to detonate himself and batman... tells them to clear the room and let him, knowing somethign we don't as the man prepares to fir eon him and after they exit we get a wrapup via news as Max once again watches
So yeah SOMETHING made the leader kill himself, and max is behind anything. not a MASSIVE twist as the batman conversation set it up, but still a neat one: Max has plans for the league. I also like the focus on optics here: it's something I don't THINK the league had done before, the idea of how the media views a superhero team. This verison of the league isn't bad.. but Batman's refusal to talk to the press allows them to paint the narrative they want instead of the league controlling it. It's what gives Max a leg up on slowly wrestling control of it and makes him a compelling character from the word jump: Unlike Batman, he clearly gets optics, having set this up to force the league into the spotlight bright and early and removing the of america part to give the team a bigger calling. His tactics for doing this are also brilliant but we'll get more on them as we go.
For now this issue.. is as good as ever. Amazingly drawn, sharply written and nicely snappy, setting up the team, the myth arc with max and the situation their in all in one issue while modernizing thigns a bit: instead of space monsters our heroes are now fighting terrorists. Not that I mind fighting a godo space monster, but I get trying to give the leauge something diffrent and more part of the world. And part of the world is a major part of this series: putting the League more into our world an dhaving to deal with things like the media, other nations, etc. It's a brilliant start
Next Time: The last heroes of a dead world try to save ours while a greedy bearded man wonders who he can exploit this and the team gets some gold.
#dc comics#blue beetle#batman#justice league international#maxwell lord#keith giffen#black canary#mister miracle#scott free#dinah lance#martian manhunter#shazam#captain marvel#billy batson#the 80s#comics
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay!! I'm finally done. My late entry for March's All 4 1 TMNT Challenge (late by my timezone since it's April 1 already).
See, after reading @m1dnyt3-w0lf 's entry (read here), and fucking sobbed, I could not sit by and let our poor Red banded bara suffer. So I told her I'd write a part 2 to hers, to give us some closure. I'm sorry if it makes zero sense, I wanted to get something out before time was up.
So without further ado, here is that part 2!!
⚠️MENTIONS OF UNALIVE AND BODILY HARM. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION⚠️
It had been several months now since Raphael had his heart stomped on. Ever since then, he had been on a warpath, throwing himself into his patrols and duties; he needed the distraction from Y/N, keep her off his mind. While Leo was taking pride in seeing Raph finally take their job seriously, Donatello could tell he was only doing it as an ulterior motive. However, every time he was asked if he were okay, Raph would always brush it off saying he’s fine; he would avoid any and all confrontation if Y/N’s name was mentioned. He wanted to forget, he wanted out.
However, it was hard. Try as he might, his heart had the tendency to remind him of the agreement, and it would be the most painful reminder. Most of his nights were spent in that secret part of New York’s under belly, pounding out his anger and heartache into the old tiles and concrete, before collapsing to his knees. He fought his tears, but they still fell; and every now and then, if New York was quiet enough, you’d be able to hear the scream of someone who’s heart was breaking into tiny pieces. His pain was becoming unbearable, and his thoughts began to get the better of him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Raphael stood atop a tall building somewhere in lower Manhattan, the breeze whipping the tails of his skullcap violently around his face. He was staring out into the streets, but he wasn’t seeing anything; or well, he couldn’t see anything. He was horribly drunk, swaying gently on the ledge. How long had it been now, a year? A whole year since that day, and he had reached his limit. Y/N hadn’t even tried to reach out and properly explain, he knew she didn’t have to, but it would’ve been nice. Just to ease his aching heart, even just a little. But she hadn’t. he tried to follow her, tried to leave little clues that he wanted to talk to her, but they had gone unnoticed. He tried texting, calling, something; nothing, it had all lead to nothing.
The familiar notification sound came from his communicator; his brothers. They had been trying to contact him. Assuming they had found his GPS tracker somewhere back in the lair, but he didn’t want to be found. Eventually, he turned it off, and took a deep breath. Then he felt it; all his pain and anguish, all the suffering, it hit him like a train. He didn’t stop the tears as they fell, he didn’t try to hold back the sob that escaped his throat, he didn’t try to stop the shaking that had overtaken his body. He swayed, and then, he fell.
It was as if time began to slow around him as he fell. He closed his eyes, and the flashes of his life burned into his mind. His childhood, his brothers, Master Splinter, April, defeating Shredder, Casey, defeating the Kraang; everything flashed through, including his agreement. This was it, he was ready to die, to end his own suffering.
“Shit! Are you okay?!”
Raph opened his eyes, he had reached the bottom. A giant pile of garbage bags and boxes had softened his attempt; he felt a stinging in his right arm and his side. He closed his eyes, he didn’t need to look to know that he was bleeding. He was hoping, if he lay there long enough, he might bleed out. He felt taps to his cheek, he had to open his eyes again. Who was this person, and why wouldn’t they leave him alone?
“Hey wake up!” the voice yelled, from the pitch, he figured it was a woman.
He batted her hands away. “Leave me…”
“Okay, we’ve got the biggest gash I’ve seen on your arm and side. I can’t put pressure on both, you’re gonna have to do that part.”
She had shoved some sort of cloth into his hand and practically forced him to keep pressure as he felt her wrap his arm up in something else. His vision was still blurred with tears, and he no longer felt the alcohol in him. He blamed his uberfast metabolism on the fact that he is a mutant with science bullshit that fixes itself. He was half listening to the unknown woman rambling about he she really should have paid more attention in her first aid class on how to tie a tunicate. He really didn’t want to have to deal with someone, so he mustered whatever strength he could and pulled himself from the trash, pushing the young woman aside. Instantly, a sharp pain shot up his left leg; he might've twisted something when he landed. Nothing felt broken so that was good, but he still wanted to be alone so he tired to walk away.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” the woman asked, running and throwing her arms out to prevent him from going further.
“Away from you,” he spat, he didn’t like her tone. He tried to step around her to leave, but she just put her hands on his chest plates.
“Not like that you’re not, you’re pissing blood everywhere!” She yelled.
Now Raph was getting mad, why was this woman in his way, and why was she giving him attitude? When he tried to sidestep again, she just blocked his path again. He was starting to seethe with anger, he just wanted to disappear but this woman was making it very difficult to do that. Just as he was about to yet again try and sidestep, his left leg wobbled and he fell to his knees. He was frustrated now; his attempts failed, he was now injured, no longer feeling the effects of alcohol, and now he couldn’t even get away from this human. Y/N’s face flashed over his eyes once more, and he broke down. He began to sob as the tears left hot trails down his cheeks, his voice barely audible.
He furiously tried to wipe the tears as they fell, but they continued to soak the edges of his mask making it feel heavier on his head. He so desperately wanted to move now, the human was still standing there, watching him too closely for comfort. He had reached for her to try to push her away, but she dodged him easily and stepped forward. He was expecting a lecture from a random stranger, but what he got instead was a soft hug around his neck. The moment had made him freeze, he wasn’t expecting this; was she pitying him, cause he didn’t want that.
“I get it now,” she whispered. “Only the most broken of hearts could make someone do something so silly… I don’t know who did this to you, babe, but I’m so sorry you had to suffer under their hand like this.”
“It’s not you like ya could understand how I feel,” he whispered back harshly.
She laughed softly, “Perhaps,” he felt her arms tighten around him, “but right now, I’m not gonna let you go through this alone. So cry babe, cry and scream. Let it all out, I’ll be right here.”
Raph gritted his teeth as he tried to stop his body from trembling, “I don’t…”
“Shh, it’s okay, I won’t look,” she hushed.
It’s not like he could’ve kept up the walls even if he wanted to, he gripped onto her body with his uninjured arm and let everything out into her chest. His cries echoed of the alley walls, his tears began to soak through her shirt, and he clung to her like a lifeline he didn’t know he needed. In the back of his mind, he had expected her to push him off after a minute, but she stayed, shushing him softly and rubbing comforting circles into the base of his neck. A feeling he didn’t know would help so much.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he had finally calmed down, his body now gently trembling from the onslaught that was just wreaked upon his heart and soul. And the mystery woman hadn’t moved, she hadn’t even shifted; she still stood there, although her grip had loosened. Raph took a moment to take a deep breath before he tried to stand on shaky legs.
“Thanks,” he croaked, guess all that crying did a number on his throat too.
“I’m not done yet, darling,” she said, tugging on his arm gently. “You’re still injured, so I’m taking you home to patch you up. I’ have a pull-out futon you can crash on too.”
She began to pull Raph along with her as she went around a corner into another alley. He wanted to resist, but his feet followed.
“How do ya know I won’t try and run away,” he tried to joke.
She half laughed, half scoffed at his poor attempt, “You can honestly try, but I’m pretty sure you just expended any energy you just had.” She looked back at him with a smirk before tugging on his hand a bit firmer.
After a minute, they walked up to a large gate with a padlock. She pulled out a key from her pocket and unlocked it with one hand. She pulled him into… a car elevator? She shut the gate and relocked the gate, pocketing the key before pushing a big green button on a panel. The rickety old thing began to move up slowly, going passed two floors before coming to a stop. She opened a second gate and pulled out, making sure she shut the gate behind her.
Raph looked around the space. He was no Donnie, but he guessed that this was a warehouse floor, but it had been renovated into a home, or it was getting there. Room dividers were everywhere, some in the shape of a square with a soft pink light flooding out from over the edges. He let himself be pulled to the pull-out and sat down; he watched the woman disappear into the kitchen behind the counter, then re-emerge with a big green box. She walked back over, and he noticed the box said ‘For Ouchies’ and covered in unicorn and car stickers. She set the box down quietly before opening it and pulling out a bunch of things; he watched her hands set out and organize everything before he remembered something.
“The name’s, Raphael, but everyone calls me Raph,” he muttered quietly, feeling if he spoke any louder he would disturb the silence.
“Lahni,” she smiled at him as she soaked a cloth with an orange liquid before going to clean his arm.
Raph winced slightly as he watched her work, by this point he had stopped bleeding, she was just cleaning dried blood and whatnot. He was always a fast healer, but that didn’t stop him from getting injured a lot more than he wanted. She patched his arm quickly before grabbing a clean cloth and moving to his side, she placed it on the gash and let the liquid soak and seep into the wound before gently swiping it away.
Raph watched Lahni whisper to herself before he turned to stare at the coffee table in front of him. He saw a photo laying face down, and he got curious. He reached for it, and what he saw made him tense solid. In the picture was Lahni… and Y/N. Raph felt his blood boil and bubble up, turning his now steel gaze to the woman hard at work.
“Who’s this…?” he asked in a hard voice. Raph watched her look up, watching her face also turn hard before going back to work.
“My evil sister…” she said coldy.
“Sister?!”
“Hush, child.”
“Explain.”
Lahni placed the last piece of tape over the gauze before standing. “She’s my sister, who cares. I don’t talk to her anymore.”
Raph’s looked faltered.
“What happened…”
“I went to lunch with her, and she was going on and on about this agreement she had with someone.” Lahni sat angrily on the edge of the table and crossed her arms. “This person apparently had no idea about sex or what to do, he asked her for her help. I told her it was a bad idea.”
“Why’d ya say that?” Raph asked.
“Come on, did she really think someone who hadn’t had sex before wouldn’t become attached or even develop any feelings? She’s such an idiot!” Lahni got up and started pacing. “What did she think was gonna happen?! He would be totally okay when she called it off? Ugh! What a fucking idiot!”
Raph watched as Lahni got herself worked up. If she knew that person was him, she would probably instantly change her mind; he was a mutant after all. He continued to listen to her get angry.
“At lunch, she laughed and started belittling him. Saying that he should’ve known better, but she didn’t make any boundaries, or keep things clear! SHE should’ve known better!! You can’t just do that to someone!!”
Raph went to calm her, but the sound of small taps made him freeze.
“Mama?”
They both turned, Raph immediately began shitting bricks. Standing next to where the pink light was coming from was a smaller version of Lahni. She was wearing what he picked as her mom’s shirt, holding a stuffed samurai rabbit rubbing her eyes.
“Ah shit, come here baby,’ Lahni coaxed.
The little girl wandered over, stopping when she saw Raph. He panicked as he picked up a cushion and tried shielding himself from her eyes. She stared at him, but then her eyes got big and she ran up to him.
“Mama! He has ouchies!” she squealed as she stared at the bandages.
Lahni laughed, before sitting back down on the table. “He does, but don’t worry,” she looked up to Raph and smiled, “I fixed him.”
The little girl stared before she climbed up onto the pull-out with him, she handed the rabbit to him and kissed both his injuries. Now, if he could blush, he would be red all over. Lahni laughed hard at his face as he watched the little girl stand up, getting right into his face.
“Don’t worry Mister. My mommy is the best fixer upper. And I have magic kisses, so you’ll be better in zero time.”
She had said it in the most serious tone ever, and Raph was taken aback quite a bit. He looked to Lahni for help, but the woman just kept laughing.
“Miwa, are you gonna introduce yourself?”
The little girl practically shoved her hand into his face, “I’m Miwa, and I’m dis many numbers!” he watched as she tried to hold up three fingers but was coming out as four.
Raph chuckled, before taking her tiny hand and shaking it gently. That night went on with childish stories and giggles, until eventually Miwa fell back to sleep. Every time Lahni tried to move her, Miwa protested, saying she wanted to stay with her new friend. It got to a point where they both gave up, so Lahni grabbed extra pillows and blankets and set up the pull-out for the three of them.
And that was the first night that Raphael had slept without any nightmares.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A whole year had gone by after that night, a lot had happened. Raph was babysitting Miwa for Lahni while she ducked out to the store, when she had an unexpected and unwanted guest arrive. Y/N. She had walked in expecting to see her sister, but instead found Raph. He had frozen, he didn’t know what to do. But Miwa had stood in front of him telling Y/N to leave, they didn’t want to see her.
Y/N tried and tried to convince her it wasnt nice to talk to her aunty like that, getting closer and closer. He watched her try to reach for Miwa, and something came over him. He grabbed Miwa and pulled her into a protective embrace, and he growled defensively. Y/N tried to explain herself, but she ran out time when Lahni returned.
A screaming war began, Raph turning and covering Miwa’s ears as she huddled close to his chest plates. Y/N left, and Raph finally told her everything. Lahni knew all along, she had figured it out quite early, he always avoided her family pictures that had Y/N in them. But, she didnt want him to relive all the bad memories so she didn’t mention it.
That night, Raphael sat on the couch. It was a more comfortable one he had picked up with his brothers help. After he had explained to them everything that had happened with Y/N, when Lahni found him and even Miwa. He had gotten the lecture of a lifetime from Leo and Splinter, but they were just happy that he was doing okay now. Reiterating that he could rely on them for anything he needed.
However, during his time spent with Lahni and Miwa, his heart decided it’d play matchmaker. Anytime Lahni was close, his heart would skip beats and he’d flush. Any moment spent with Miwa, he’d get this urge to protect by any means. Donnie had said that he’d imprinted on her, if that was even possible in a turtle. Raph didn’t want his heart broken again, but he was willing to take this chance.
Lahni was sitting next to him as they watched TV, Miwa asleep on his lap curled into a ball with her rabbit. Mustering up his courage, Raph put his arm around Lahni and pulled her close to his side; his arm slipping down her back to her waist, effectively pulling her even closer. He had expected her to flinch or stiffen, but she relaxed into him and leant her head on his shoulder.
She scoffed. “Took you long enough.”
Raph chuckled. “Keep you waiting long, then?”
“A little. But I wanted it on your terms.”
Raph smiled. “Hey I wanted to ask you something...”
She turned to him, “What’s up, hun?”
He sighed, “I know, it hasn’t been long... a year isn’t a lot of time... but I really like you...” he looked away from her eyes. “And... I was wondering... if you’d let me, be a part of your family...”
Raph heard Lahni gasp, he panicked so he continued. “I can’t really see myself without you now, you’ve made an impact on me...” he looked down at the little girl in his lap “and so has Miwa. And I wanted to know... if it’d be too much to ask ya...”
He hesitated, but her hand on his knee made him finish in a rush. “IWASWONDERINGIFYOU’DLETMEBEMIWA’SDAD!”
He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting her to reject him. But his eyes shot open when he felt Lahni kiss his knuckles.
“You know, I’d been thinking the same thing. But I wanted you to make that decision first, babe.”
Raphael’s smile couldn’t grow any wider as he pulled Lahni into a feverish but loving kiss, which she returned with just as much love.
When they broke, he laughed out of breath.
“I’m new to all this though... can you show me where to start?”
Lahni smiled at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Tags: @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @red-phoenixxx @post-apocalyptic-daydream @dilucsflame33 @leosgirl82 @tmnt-tychou anybody else that I cant remember!!
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles bayverse#tmnt bayverse#tmnt fic#tmnt fanfic#tmnt raphael#tmnt all 4 1#tmnt all 4 1 challenge#repair the hurt from the angst#part 2#soft raphie warm raphie little ball of emotions
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
So, I've just finished watching TFRB Season 1 Episode 15: The Griffinrock Triangle, and since that episode is where my Ocean AU starts, I feel like I should write a small snippet of Cody's POV to the ending.
(Extra info: Evan is the name of the Burn's youngest child in this AU. He replaces Cody)
Cody watched as these strange, giant robotic land creatures walked along the ocean floor. He glared as they were dangerously close to his home. It was bad enough that they were in his territory. He let out a small growl and swam off quickly to the side. The orange land creature had looked at his previous position just as he swam off.
He swam into the trench and took a hiding place behind a rock, watching as the giant land creatures leaped off the edge. They sunk to the wreckage of a failed attempt to destroy his home. 28 years ago, he had triggered a methane eruption when he saw this ship looking to destroy his home. He wasn't going to let anyone destroy the place he called home.
Cody watched as the orange land creature looked through one of the windows, then let out a shriek. He scoffed as he heard this same land creature say; "Sea Monsterr!!". The other land creatures responded with their own collective 'what's. What they saw was the human who tried to destroy his home. No 'sea monster'.
The sea creature watched in amazement as just 1 of these mechanical land creatures managed to force the loading bay door open. When it was open, they all went inside. He glared as they were inside for a while.
After a good 10 or so minutes, 3 of the land creatures came back out. The green one, the orange one, and the red one. He watched in shock as the three of them pushed the wreckage close to the ledge. They were going to destroy his home! He growled and clenched his fists. The first time he's seen these creatures they are immediately trying to destroy his home!!
He became confused as the 3 didn't push the lab over. They simply pushed it to the edge. He watched as the blue land creature headed out of the lab and went over to one of the lab's 'legs'. He glared when they all started to push again.
He quickly swam deeper inside the trench, trying to think of some way to stop these strong metal monsters. Maybe he could trigger another methane eruption and destroy their plan.
Just as he got to the crack in the rock that consisted of his home, he heard the wreckage break free from a rock it was caught on. He looked up and saw the wreckage sinking down on top of him. He swam up a bit and snapped his sharp teeth together, growling at the wreckage.
The last thing he heard and saw was an explosion. After that, a rock fell from the trench above and knocked him out, leaving him to sink to the bottom of the trench.
#aj rambles#transformers rescue bots#tfrb#cody burns#tfrb cody#tfrb heatwave#tfrb boulder#tfrb chase#tfrb blades#tfrb cody burns#cody burns au#Ocean AU#tfrb ocean au#seacreature!cody
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s been a long day (and all I’ve gotta say is make it strong)
Astarion x f!Tav. Ao3 link
Even after being allowed to drink from Tav, Astarion doesn’t feel safe in camp. When a battle goes badly, he braces for the worst.
Rating: Mature for topics discussed. No smut
Tags/TW: discussion of child death, aftermath of violence, Astarion needs a hug, Tav needs a drink, pre-relationship
Word count: 3.5k.
Chapter 1/1
A/N: I accidentally killed the goblin kids while freeing Halsin and I had Feelings about it.
——————-!
Astarion was packing
He didn’t want to be packing, he wanted to be having a nice, quiet little panic attack. In the fight to free the druid, one of the goblins had not only summoned a giant spider, but had cast blindness on Astarion. For ten agonizing minutes he’d been in a blackness no darkvison could penetrate. It had sent him right back to that year Cazador had locked him away, the hunger and the darkness and the maddening, maddening silence. Even now thinking about it made his hands shake.
He’d rather have been eaten by the spider.
All other things being equal, he should be curled up on his bedroll right now drinking sour wine and trying to forget. But things were never equal for him, because life couldn’t give him a godsdamned break. And if he was to be run out of camp, he’d take as much as he could with him.
“Astarion,” a voice sounded from outside his tent, the last voice he wanted to hear, and the only one he’d been expecting. “May I come in?”
Astarion shoved his pack into the corner with one foot and tried to look as indifferent as possible. “if you must.”
Tav pushed her way into the tent. She had taken her chest armor off, but still wore the light shirt and leg guards. There was blood in her pulled-back hair. “So eager to see me that you couldn’t stop to bathe?” Astarion asked, wrinkling his nose. “Or is it a religious requirement that clerics of Kelemvor smell like the dead?”
Tav just raised her eyebrows at him. As usual, any attempt at disdain rolled right off of her. “I’m checking on everyone before I get cleaned up and turn in for the night. That was a brutal fight.”
“Well, don’t worry about me darling,” Astarion said. “I enjoyed the carnage.”
“Did you?” Tav said, tilting her head. Astarion braced himself. Here it comes.
“Because I saw your face when that blindness spell hit you,” Tav went on. and gods that was her cleric voice, the one she surely used at funerals, a gentle, nonjudgmental tone meant to comfort the grieving and sooth the dying. “I wanted to be sure you were all right.”
Astarion refused to be soothed or comforted. How dare she pretend to care about him, especially now?
“Feel free to tell me to mind my business,” Tav said, “I just know you said you were a slave to Cazador, and I’ve met more than one slave with a justified fear of the dark.”
Astarion hated her in that moment with the power of a thousand suns. “You should mind your business,” he snapped viciously “I didn’t survive 200 years of torture to be pitied by an idealistic chit with no common sense and…and a snub nose!”
Tav froze, eyes wide as a fawn’s. More at his tone probably than his words, those hadn’t been his best insults. But the anger was real and he could see she knew it.
“Forgive me,” Tav said at last, “I will be more mindful of your privacy in the future.” Then she turned to leave the tent.
“Is that it?” Astarion said, incredulous. “You’re really going to make me wait for the hammer to drop? I knew you were pathetic, but I didn’t think you were cruel.”
“What?” Tav took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead. “Okay let’s start over, because I feel like we're having two different conversations. Why do you think I came in here?” She sounded so patient, and it flamed the deep rage in Astarion’s chest.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” he snarled. “We both know you came here to tell me to get out of camp, so drop the games and fucking do it already!”
“Why the fuck would I ask you to leave camp?” Tav said, clearly bewildered. Astarion wanted to shake her.
“Because I killed two kids today!”
The words hung in the air. Tav’s face crumpled, and it made something deep within Astarion hurt. But he couldn’t stop.
“I killed those goblin kids. And I know that you know it was me because I saw you praying over them before we left. I know how you feel about kids. All of us know how you feel about kids. ‘Children are what adults make them Astarion’ ‘We don’t charge for children Astarion.’ I still have their blood under my fingernails and between my teeth, so don’t stand there and tell me that you don’t care!”
There was a moment of silence.
“I do care,” Tav said at last. She rubbed her hand over her face. “Gods I’m tired. Can I sit down?”
“Ugh, fine,” Astarion gestured to the bedroll. He wanted to strike out again, make her get on with it, but Tav looked…broken. Broken in a way he hadn’t seen before. It was unsettling.
Tav sat down cross-legged on his bedroll and indicated one of the bottles nearby. “Is that blood or wine?”
“Wine,” Astarion said. “It’s terrible.”
“That’s fine, I don’t want it for the taste. May I?” He nodded and Tav reached for the bottle, giving it a healthy swig. “Ack, this one is nasty.” She took another drink. “And I know you took those kids down. I saw you do it.”
“Can’t keep your eyes off me, even in battle?” Astarion purred. “I’m flattered.”
“I was watching the kids,” Tav said, ignoring him. “They were running for help, and I was trying to figure out how to stop them. But you did it for me.”
Astarion said nothing.
Tav took another drink, then carefully set the bottle aside. “The truth is, it’s my fault. I thought I could bluff my way through like I always do, but things escalated and I lost control of the situation. I should have planned better, put Shadowheart near the exit maybe. And when I realized there were children involved, I should have backed off until I figured out how to knock them out or get them out of the way safely. But I didn’t do any of that, and now they’re dead. That’s on me, not you.”
Astarion hadn’t even considered using non-lethal options. The first kid had been pure adrenaline. He’d registered someone running for help and run to take care of the problem. The second one…. The second one had been instinct. He’d been blind and terrified and full of remembered hunger, and then something small and warm-blooded had run past him. Like a rat but larger. He hadn’t even fully realized what he’d done until the blindness spell wore off.
“Look, I promised you I’d never bite an innocent,” Astarion said, letting some of his anger drain away. “I broke that promise. You can take responsibility if you like, the gods know I don’t want it. But that doesn’t change the fact that I basically ate a child.”
Tav rubbed her forehead with two fingers. “No, no it doesn’t.” She looked up. “Was it good?”
Astarion frowned. “Was what good?”
“The goblin kid you drained. Was it tasty? Satisfying?”
“Are you seriously asking me this?”
“Yes,” Tav said, still calm, still watching him. “Was it good?”
“Well…” Astarion felt oddly lost. This conversation was so far from what he expected. “I guess? The blood wasn’t as robust as an adult’s and the flow wasn’t as strong, so I only got a couple swallows.”
“So if you had a choice, you’d pick an adult to bite? Or an animal?”
“I mean, animal blood is rather nasty,” Astarion said. “But no, on the whole it wouldn’t be worth the effort. Not if there was better prey available.” He pulled himself back to reality. “What the hells does it matter anyway? Even if you’re willing to let it go, it’s not like the others will. They already think I’m a bloodthirsty killer.”
“There’s more than one of those in camp,” Tav pointed out. “Although you’re more literally blood thirsty, and Lae’zel is more in line with the traditional sense. Besides the others don’t know.”
Astarion stared at her. “What do you mean they don’t know?”
“Just what I said.” Tav shrugged. “Halsin was dealing with the worgs, Karlach was fighting a giant spider, Shadowheart was trying to get across the grease that other goblin threw at us. I’m pretty sure no one saw you but me.” She eyed the wine bottle again. “And I did a little clothing adjustment when I said a prayer over them to cover the bite. As far as everyone else is concerned, you took down both those kids in your usual way. Considering it kept us from being overrun with goblins, I doubt anyone will hold it against you.”
“You covered for me?” Astarion couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“Yeah.” Tav shrugged. “Look, no one else was anywhere near that door. If you hadn’t stopped them from sounding the alarm, we’d probably be dead. And the tieflings and their children would be dead. And who the fuck knows what this Absolute cult would do to Faerun. I don’t like doing that calculation, and I don’t like that I screwed up. But the truth is, you saved us.”
“And you trust me not to do it again?” Astarion said. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Tav took back the bottle and took a swig.
“I can’t decide if you are suicidal or just a fool.” Astarion couldn’t keep the bitter bite out of his words. There were few things he despised more than naive heroism. The world was a desert of blood and power and whatever rivers of goodness or kindness there might be would never change that, never reach the people who needed them the most.
He should know, after all.
But Tav’s next words shocked him into silence.
"You mean for trusting you?” Tav said. “I don’t, really. Or I suppose you could say I trust you just as much as I trust most of the people in this camp, which is very little.” She waved the bottle. “What I trust is your sense of self preservation. You’re far too smart to risk being staked or run out for a bite-sized snack that you’ve admitted doesn’t even taste that good.”
It was certainly nothing compared to yours, Astarion thought, then refocused on Tav’s words. “You don’t trust anyone in camp? But you’re so.. so… nice.”
“Thank you!” Tav said brightly. “But kindness and wariness can co-exist you know. I trust Withers because we’re…well, we’re colleagues of a sort. And I trust Karlach for the most part. But not the rest of you. Not yet.” She peered at him, her eyes slightly unfocused. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that we’re basically one devil or deity’s command from being murdered in our beds.”
Astarion had not noticed that, and now that she’d pointed it out, he was miffed at himself. He’d only considered his companions in light of the direct threats they posed: Gale’s orb exploding, Lae’zel putting a stake through his heart, etc. He’d been more worried about being abandoned then being killed. But apparently there were other risks too, ones he’d missed.
Honestly the idea was rather fascinating.
Astarion plopped down on the ground, all his anger forgotten. “Walk me through it,” he said. “Lae’zel would absolutely stab us if that gith queen of hers told her to, that’s true. And Shadowheart’s a little too zealous for her dark goddess. But Gale? Wyll?”
“Gale’s a man who had love and power and doesn’t have it any more.” Tav said. “Plenty of people have done terrible things for less reason. And while I don’t doubt Wyll’s honor, I am a little wary of how easily Mizora was able to lie to him. He might be wiser now. Time will tell.”
“But you trust Karlach?”
“Karlach spent ten years doing nothing but killing on the orders of someone else. I’m sure she has a lever, because everyone does, but she’s the least likely to betray us in that way. She’d refuse on principle.”
“That’s probably true,” Astarion said. “As for me, we both know I’d sell the whole camp to Raphael for a ham sandwich.”
“You would not,” Tav said, and hells, she sounded almost affectionate. “But if you were offered freedom from the tadpole and Cazador, I don’t think you’d hesitate. Especially if you could keep the sun.”
“Well, you’re not wrong,” Astarion admitted. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for such an offer. “I like to think I’d hesitate a little though.”
“Awwww, that’s sweet. Maybe we’re all further along than I thought.” Tav sighed. “The point is, I trust all of you to have priorities and loyalties of your own, and I don’t trust a mere five days acquaintance to have much sway against those priorities. Hopefully we’ll get into actually trusting and valuing each other as we go, but I don’t think we’re there yet.”
“That’s…. incredibly astute. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“It’s the face,” Tav said. “I have permanent nice face. And a snub nose. It makes people underestimate you.” And then the chit actually winked at him.
Cheeky pup.
“So what’s your lever?” Astarion asked, trying to regain the upper hand in the conversation. “Especially regarding my good self. After all, Kelemvor condemns all undead, or so I’ve been told.”
Kelemvor was one of the only gods Astarion hadn’t bothered to pray to in his two hundred years of torment. He’d considered more than once begging the God of Death for a quick extinction, but in the end he’d been too stubborn--or too cowardly--to do it.
“Eh. It’s complicated. As long as you aren’t making more undead or actively preying on innocents, most clerics are happy to leave you alone and focus on the real problems.” Tav grew thoughtful. “Would I be willing to protect everyone if I had to kill another cleric of Kelemvor to do it? I honestly don’t know. Fortunately, that’s unlikely. Especially when you consider that Withers is helping us.”
“You know what he is?” Astarion said, leaning forward. “Do tell.”
Tav tapped him lightly on the nose. “Sorry, trade secrets,” she said with a grin. Then she sighed, putting down the bottle. “That’s more than enough for me, I’m afraid. It would be hard to lead with a massive hangover, and we still have three goblin leaders to kill. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I’ve mustered the will to stand up.”
For the first time since she’d entered his tent, Astarion actually looked at Tav. The tired slump of her shoulders, the lines around her eyes. There was a loneliness and a sadness to her that he’d not seen before. He wondered if it had always been there, hidden under her cheerful care.
“You can sleep here if you like,” Astarion said impulsively. “If you trust me not to drain you dry and run for the hills.”
“Please,” Tav scoffed. “Without the artifact, you wouldn’t make it a day before the Absolute got to you, and you value your freedom too much to let that happen.”
Now that he knew more of her mind, Astarion could read between the lines. I know you never want to be a slave again. He was grateful to her for not saying it out loud.
He could try and steal the artifact, but it might not allow itself to be stolen. Besides Shadowheart would hunt him down and Karlach and Wyll would help her just to avenge Tav.
Astarion would bet a full meal of bear’s blood that Tav knew all that already. That she’d known it when she offered him her neck on the day she discovered his secret. Tav didn’t trust him to be good, she trusted him to be smart enough and selfish enough to work with the group for his own--and everyone else’s--benefit.
She trusted him to be exactly who he was.
Being seen so clearly was uncomfortable. It made something coil in Astarion’s gut, a feeling that was something like fear and something like hunger. Instinctively he took refuge in the tools he’d always used.
“There are other dangers you know,” he said, moving closer to Tav and tracing the tip of one finger over her soft chin. “I could take advantage of you… carnally.”
Tav’s eyes were wide and open in the dim light, and her lips and cheeks were flushed with wine. He could smell the sweetness of her blood pumping as her heart rate picked up. Her chest rose and fell under the thin linen shirt, the plush breasts teasing him. Astarion had a sudden vision of his fingers digging into Tav’s hips, of burying himself inside all that soft, carefully guarded warmth. The wave of lust made him dizzy.
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t enjoy it,” Tav said. “Not tonight. Too many thoughts and too much wine.”
Not enjoy it? The nerve. Astarion cradled Tav���s jaw, tilting her head up. “Darling, you wound me. I could drive every thought out of that pretty little head and make sure you sleep better than you’ve ever slept in your life.” His lips were close enough to Tav’s for their breath to mingle. He could hear her heart pounding.
“Astarion,” she breathed.
“Yes, sweet one?”
“I don’t want to have sex while I smell like the dead.” She pulled back, a smile playing around her soft mouth.
Astarion chuckled, he couldn’t help it. The woman kept surprising him. “Touché, my dear.” He released her and sat back. “Genuinely though, you’re welcome to stay. I’m not planning on closing my eyes tonight, and we can’t have our fearless leader stumbling across camp. You might fall into the fire. Besides,” He reached out and tapped her nose in turn. “I don’t think you want to be alone tonight.”
Tav inclined her head, acknowledging the hit. “You sure you don’t mind?”
“Just don’t make it a habit,” Astarion said. “I don’t like dirty girls in my bed.”
Now it was Tav’s turn to laugh, but sadly she didn’t rise to the bait. “Goodnight Astarion.”
“Goodnight.” Astarion watched her snuggle in under his blanket, feeling oddly pleased. It was probably just relief. Tav wasn’t kicking him out and she wasn’t angry. He was safe for another day.
As quietly as he could, Astarion started to unpack his things, enjoying the richer silence that comes from having two people in a room instead of one. Then a noise caught his ear. The tiniest of choked sobs.
Tav was turned away from him, but he could hear her faintly ragged breaths, and smell the saltiness of tears. She was so quiet that Astarion doubted anyone without the senses of an elf or a vampire would have noticed. But he did, and he recognized it: the silent crying of someone long practiced in hiding their grief. Someone who couldn’t risk drawing attention.
Astarion had given up on the comfort of tears a hundred years ago or more, but he still remembered.
He didn’t stir, barely breathed until Tav’s own breath smoothed out and she sank into sleep. Then he crept over to look closer. There were tear marks on her face and on his pillowcase, and Tav herself had curled up so tightly it was like she was trying to make herself disappear.
Astarion remembered doing that too.
“What secrets are you hiding, darling?’ he whispered, lightly brushing some wayward hair from her forehead. Tav didn’t answer but he thought she relaxed a little under his touch. Astarion sat back, thinking hard.
He’d assumed--they’d all assumed--that Tav was a simple cleric: a decent fighter with a flair for creative strategy and an open heart. But she was so much more than that. Under that sweet, unruffled demeanor was the practical mind of a master tactician. In five days Tav had found everyone’s deepest emotional levers, and used that knowledge, not for manipulation or judgement, but for planning. For threat assessment.
She hid her hurt on instinct, she froze when she felt threatened, she was keenly aware of everyone around her. Astarion had been a predator for a long, long time and he recognized the signs. Sometime in the past, Tav had been prey.
And still…she was kind.
Astarion looked at the cleric sleeping peacefully in his bedroll and knew two things for absolute certain. One: in her own way, Tav was the most dangerous person in camp. And two: Astarion needed to become a priority to her, fast.
He needed a plan
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP Questionnaire ±1
To be honest, I keep looking for these as an excuse to talk about my work
This one I got from @illarian-rambling, I wasn't tagged in her post but I accepted the open invitation
However, since this is how my mind works, I'll turn this into a game.
Updated Rules:
1. Answer as few or as many of the following questions as you'd like!
2. In passing the tag along to others, you can add one question of your own, or replace an existing question.
1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?
The magic system. It took years for the idea to finally click in my head, too. It started when I watched the Terrible Writing Advice on Myths, Legends, and Gods; JP just had to challenge me with "A pantheon of the Periodic Table would be way too big". So I said "Alright, bet", but the idea still wasn't there. Then, I finally began watching ATLA and Breaking Bad (very late to both parties), and then my brain went: "What if... chemistrybending?"
2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?
Probably a more light-hearted version of "Can You Hear The Music" from Oppenheimer.
3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?
Hydrogen, Admiral Wright, and Miilo Saba.
Hydrogen is the Elemental of their namesake atom, and I attempted to write them as wholesome and eccentric. I would liken them to a much older and wiser version of the Collector from The Owl House. They also wield a flaming shortsword, and can turn invisible (since hydrogen gas is invisible by default).
Admiral Wright is the main antagonist of volume one. She was the first woman (and still only one of two) to be fully commissioned in the Lodinican Republic Navy, and is otherwise known as its toughest commander. Her backstory is a commentary on how simply letting marginalized people into unchanged power structures doesn't change their marginalizing nature.
Miilo Saba is the older cousin of the twins Lia and Lioko, and he's the captain of an anarchist smuggler ship. He's mostly light-hearted and laid-back, except in a situation where there's no messing around, in which case he can become deadly serious.
Why? To be honest, I picked these three because they were the most engaging for me to write.
4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?
Likely the animated ones I've mentioned before: ATLA (Legend of Korra included) and The Owl House, plus other animated shows like Steven Universe. The book will include illustrations a la The Chronicles of Narnia, except in an art style that would easily translate to 2-D animation.
5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?
Holding myself to the standards of good writing. In particular, character writing and depth of worldbuilding.
6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!
I have sea wyverns, which are about twice as big as an albatross; landback tortoises, which are somewhat of a grounded take on the mythological giant turtle/tortoise trope; and more minor appearances like torpedo-fish (fish that can swim up to 80 knots in short bursts) and taransis, cat-sized Lucas-the-Spiders.
7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)
The equivalent era to our world is the 1910s-early 1920s. There are ocean liners, trains, and horses, and the occasional airship, while cars are still rather new.
8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?
I am almost done, thank God. I'm planning to take spring quarter off from community college to finish it.
9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?
The novelty of its magical premises and take on the fantasy genre. Perhaps its politics, too, but those are more of a background thing.
10. What are your hopes for your wip?
I hope it's as original as I claim it to be! A pipe dream of mine is that the complete series financially sustains me, but I'll just retire to a commune upstate if that doesn't happen.
I will add a question 11: What pieces of media have been the most inspiring to you for this WIP?
Passing this along to @serotoninshift, @kaylinalexanderbooks, and @she-who-fights-and-writes if any of you all are interested!
Blanks below:
What was the first part of your wip that you created?
If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?
Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?
What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?
What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?
Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!
How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)
What part of your wip are you working on rn?
What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?
What are your hopes for your wip?
What pieces of media have been the most inspiring to you for this WIP?
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
'Stuck in one place' horror movies 💀 part 2
Breaking Surface (2020)
Two sisters go for some hobby diving at a secluded area in Norway, only for one of them to get stuck under a rock (if i remember correctly) 30 m down under water. Even though we mostly follow one sister's desperate attempts to find help while keeping her sister alive, there are many scary moments under water.
47 Meters Down (2017)
Another two sisters enjoying themselves diving, this time on a tourist attraction boat where you swim with wild sharks, safely inside a connected underwater cage. However the chains fail and the cage completely plunges to the ocean ground. With scarce amount of air, lost from the people above and surrounded by vicious sharks, the two sisters have to take dire risks to make it back to the surface.
Poseidon (2006)
Giant cruise ship Poseidon is hit by a giant wave, and pushed upsidedown with thousands of passengers inside. A bunch of strangers get together to reach the bottom of the boat in hope to signal for help, but one by one they're plucked away by misfortune. Underrated, almost forgotten movie !
The Pool (2018)
Imagine, you fall asleep on your summer floaty and hasn't noticed that the really deep pool has been emptied. And when your friend comes to help you up, they accidentally stumble and severely hit their head. Now both of you're stuck! And oh, then an alligator falls in too. Even if the plot sounds a bit goofy like that, this doesn't feel terribly unrealistic!
Mine (2016)
After witnessing his friend step on a mine and become several pieces, a soldier notices that he has stepped on one too - but it hasn't gone off yet. Having to stand still in such heavy heat while waiting for help does things to your mind for sure.
Fall (2022)
Two adrenaline junkie friends decide to climb an old rusty 2000 feet (about 610 meters) radio tower. But when reaching the top, the ladder falls apart and the women are completely trapped in the middle of nowhere, struggling in the desert heat.
The Lodge (2019)
A former cult-member still suffers trauma from the brainwashing she had to endure for years, even after starting a new life with a nice man and his two kids. When the bf has to go away for a business trip and a blizzard strikes, the woman is stuck with the two kids in the small cavern as strange things start to occur around them.
Vivarium (2019)
A couple looking for their first dream home together suddenly finds themselves trapped in their new house with a strange baby to care for. Imagine being trapped with someone else's kid 24/7 against your will, for weeks even months! No wonder they lose their minds.
The Purge (2013)
Since the never ending Purge franchise, i think many have forgotten that the very first one took place only in a suburban house as introducers try to get in. Still today holds up as a very stressful scary watch!
[ Part 1 ]
#me#personal#movie recommendation#movie rec list#movie review#horror movie recommendations#horror movies
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
December 23rd Drarry Drabble: "Champagne"
Read Parts 1 through 7 here.
Tags: Potential Dubious Consent (Kissing), Ministry Function, Harry is fed up with his mistletoe friend, Draco is snarky (as promised), Ron is a good friend, shit hits the fan, being a public figure sucks
Harry did not want to attend this year’s Ministry Christmas Charity Function (but the ‘charity’ aspect grudgingly made him surrender his free time). The fact that it was a masquerade ball did not improve the situation. As for whoever had decided that winter foliage was an appropriate theme? Harry wanted nothing more than to send a stinging hex up their posterior.
At this point (and despite Malfoy’s repeated efforts), his shrubby companion was no longer a secret. Even with Kingsley’s intervention, the Prophet had run a front-page article about it. On one hand, the tabloids had stopped reporting on the Cormac-incident, but on the other hand, they were now running polls on who had cursed him and why. In addition, speculations about his secret admirer were rampant. It was unbearable. Harry wanted to be anyone but the Head of the Auror Department.
The only thing that took the edge off was the complimentary champagne—the Ministry had clearly splurged (for the first time ever!) this year—and Ron casually acting as his personal bodyguard. There was something strangely fascinating about watching Ron protect him from unwanted attention. He deployed all manner of mischief to deter people from asking for a minute of his time. Harry struggled to keep a straight face throughout it all but appreciated Ron’s efforts more than anything.
Granted, Hermione was less than pleased about Ron acting as his right-hand man. It meant that she got little attention from her husband, but after a bit of pretend-sulking, she found a quiet nook with a comfortable armchair (Harry suspected she’d transfigured something or other and at once loved her all the more for her devil-may-care attitude). Once seated, she produced a heavy tome from her pouch, and that was that. It dissuaded anyone from coming near her. Harry couldn’t help but wish to be her for the evening.
Instead of switching bodies with his best mate’s wife, Harry devoted his full attention to the free-flowing champagne. He briefly caught up with Neville, avoided Gin and her snarky Slytherin companion like the pest, and laughed at one of Seamus’ outrageous stories.
As the evening progressed, Harry became increasingly inebriated, so much so that Ron dragged him out onto the charmed terrace for some fresh air. Harry tried pointing out they were underground, but Ron’s grasp was iron-clad. No sooner had they escaped the ballroom, Malfoy appeared at Harry’s side. Waving his arms in slow motion, Harry greeted him with a slurred voice.
“Hullo, Malfoy.”
Malfoy offered him a sardonic smile.
“Fancy meeting you here, Potter.”
Harry rolled his eyes and downed the last of his champagne.
“This one thinks I’ve had too much to drink. Calls himself my best mate, too. No fun, that bastard. Nothing but a giant party pooper.”
Ron boxed his biceps. Stumbling backwards, Harry fell against the railing and adopted a relaxed posture. He slowly tilted his head and glared at Ron.
“Ow, brute.”
“If you need a break, I’ll watch him for a bit,” Malfoy offered.
Harry frowned.
“Oi, I don’t need a babysitter.”
Ron scoffed.
“Apparently, you do.”
Blinking rapidly, Harry tried to focus on Ron, but his vision remained fuzzy around the edges. After two attempts, he gave up entirely, slid down the railing and sat on the floor.
“Whatever,” he grumbled, waving his hand dismissively.
Ron disappeared, and Harry found himself alone with Malfoy, who, despite wearing a bespoke three-piece suit, took a seat next to him and stretched his legs out.
“Do you always do everything you’re told?” he asked.
Frowning, Harry turned his head and looked at Malfoy.
“What do you mean?”
Malfoy shrugged.
“Well, Potter, you tell me. Yet another function, yet another appearance. You know you have the right to refuse being exploited like that.”
Harry rolled his eyes.
“Says the bloke who doesn’t know what it’s like to be Harry Potter.”
“I imagine there are moments when the perks outweigh the drawbacks.”
Harry snorted.
“Yeah, when they leave me to do my job instead of parading me in front of the old money to secure their donations for the year. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate a good cause as much as the next person, but this year bloody sucks.”
“Surely one pathetic little shrub doesn’t have the power to ruin the great Head Auror Potter’s entire year?”
Turning his head, Harry looked at Malfoy, taking in his wide grin and the ways his eyes glittered. The silvery sparkle complimented his cool grey eyes, and the longer Harry looked at Malfoy, the more confident he was that Malfoy’s eyes had tiny flecks of the most gorgeous blue in them.
“Are you mocking me, Malfoy?”
Malfoy chuckled. His lopsided grin made Harry’s stomach flip, and he pulled his knees to his chest. Wrapping one arm around his legs, he willed one of the servers to come over to them. He was in luck, and when the server asked what he wanted, he ordered two glasses of Firewhiskey, double, neat. The server nodded and walked off. With the order placed, Harry looked back at Malfoy and lifted his brow.
“Well?” he asked. “Are you?”
Malfoy shrugged.
“You tell me, Potter. Didn’t you ask me to be snarky?”
Harry scoffed.
“And this is the best you can do?”
Malfoy huffed a laugh.
“Oh, I can do much worse than that, Potter. I am just trying to be respectful.”
“Being snarky and respectful at the same time doesn’t work.”
“On the contrary, Potter. One can be a snarky git and respectful at the same time.”
Harry laughed.
“That so?”
Malfoy nodded.
The server reappeared with their drinks, and Harry stared deep into the amber liquid. He tried his hardest not to think of the mistletoe that still bobbed over his head, but it was almost impossible to ignore its presence, especially with Malfoy sitting right next to him. Harry could practically feel the heat that radiated off Malfoy’s body and found it very concerning that he liked the sensation, but it was easy to blame it on the mistletoe. Actually, as long as he didn’t think about the logic of it all, it was easy to blame just about anything on the mistletoe.
Harry huffed into his drink, brought the heavy tumbler glass to his lips and took a small sip. When the potent drink burned down his throat, he shifted, so he didn’t have to crane his neck so much to look at Malfoy.
“Malfoy, as an expert in investigative magic, please enlighten me why this blasted shrub won’t let me kiss somebody and disappear. Isn’t that how mistletoes are supposed to work?”
Malfoy lifted a curious brow. His wry grin twisted Harry’s insides. It was a strangely pleasurable feeling.
“Who says it doesn’t?” he asked.
Harry rolled his eyes.
“Because a whole bunch of people have tried to kiss me, and that blasted thing is still there.”
“And therein lies the problem, Potter. People have tried kissing you. Have you tried kissing anyone?”
Harry gave Malfoy a pointed look.
“Are you having a fucking laugh, Malfoy? How’s that any different?”
“Well, Potter, this may surprise you, but there’s actually a huge difference between being kissed and doing the kissing.”
“Potayto, Potahto.”
Malfoy shrugged.
“You’re entitled to your opinion, just as I’m entitled to disagree.”
“I disagree with you disagreeing.”
Malfoy huffed a laugh.
“Hilarious, Potter.”
Harry took another sip from his drink. This time it was a much larger one. It nearly scorched his insides, and inhaling deeply, Harry let the alcohol rush to his head.
“Prove it, Malfoy,” he said with a slur.
Malfoy looked at him with an incredulous expression.
“I beg your pardon?”
Harry shrugged.
“You heard me,” he said.
Without thinking, he moved to straddle Malfoy’s thighs.
“Well? Prove there’s a difference.”
“Potter. Inappropriate.”
Harry arched a brow.
“Really?”
Malfoy nodded.
Harry rolled his eyes. He downed the rest of his drink, set his tumbler aside and grabbed Malfoy’s face. He dove in and kissed him. Malfoy flailed his arms and grumbled something incomprehensible, but Harry paid no heed. He kept his eyes tightly shut and pressed his lips against Malfoy’s. They were soft to the touch, smooth and tasted sweet. Harry hummed. Malfoy still flailed his arms though not quite as vigorously. A moment later, his hands came to rest on Harry’s wrists.
Before Harry could work out whether Malfoy was trying to break free or surrender to the kiss, a bright flash went off. Even with his eyes closed, Harry felt blinded, yet it still only took him a second to realise what had happened. The hairs on his nape and arms started to lift, and he dropped his clammy arms, letting go of Malfoy’s face. Part of him wanted to pull away and run, but it was like the flash had come with a full-body bind. Groaning against Malfoy’s lips, Harry dropped his head onto Malfoy’s shoulder. His shoulders felt tight, and beats of sweat appeared on his forehead.
“Fuck.”
“Easy there, tiger, you only just subjected me to the most terrible kiss of my entire life.”
Jerking back, Harry stared at Malfoy.
“Aren’t you—?” His words failed him.
Malfoy wore the cockiest grin Harry had ever seen.
“Look up, Potter.”
Harry dithered for a moment, then forced himself to flick his gaze up. He fully expected to find that blasted mistletoe bobbing over his head, but to his complete shock, it was gone. Stammering incomprehensible gibberish, Harry tried to articulate himself with his hands. Malfoy laughed. His eyes were way too bright, and he licked his lips. Harry found his eyes drawn to the movement, and as he watched Malfoy’s pink tongue hydrate his lips, he remembered all the strange sensations he’d felt ever since Kingsley ordered him to work with Malfoy to sort out his mistletoe problem.
Horrified, Harry scrambled to his feet, stumbled, nearly fell backwards, and then let out a whimper. He waved his hands in a way that made no sense (judging by Malfoy’s curious and confused look, if that’s what it was) and fought to contain the weakness in his legs with a racing heartbeat. They buckled dangerously, and when Malfoy got to his feet and steadied him, Harry didn’t know whether to be grateful or run away screaming.
He quickly looked over his shoulder and discovered a throng of photographers hovering not too far away. Looking back at Malfoy, he tried to convey his desire to flee or hide — anything to get out of the Ministry. Malfoy looked far too amused. Drawing his brows together, Harry glared at him.
“Get me the fuck out of here,” he snarled.
Malfoy gave him a curt nod, and a second later, he wound his arm around Harry’s and pulled him away. Harry vaguely registered Malfoy casting a Patronus. A silver dragon whelp flew out of the tip of his wand, spread his wings and flew away. Harry didn’t know where it was going and didn’t care enough to ask. All he wanted was to get away. Preferably also from Malfoy, but since that wasn’t an option, he resigned himself to allowing Malfoy to drag him away.
#drarry#drarry drabble#drarry fic#drarry fanfiction#drarry fanfic#drarry fandom#drarry fluff#harry/draco#harry x draco#harry potter/draco malfoy#harry potter x draco malfoy#draco/harry#draco x harry#draco malfoy/harry potter#draco malfoy x harry potter#hpdm#dmhp#coffeedragon writes#december prompts#day 23
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Mercy Of Humans - Chapter 1: The Golden Rule
I had heard about humans. Everyone in the Galactic Confederation knew about humans. Descended from predators, they were often violent, even to each other. They were contrary, illogical, confrontational and worse, easily angered. In the three hundred narns since the humans discovered FTL, they had dozens of armed confrontations with many peoples, including several Confederation members.
Once, they had gone to war with a trade consortium because the Tloung-hi had blockaded the Ublot’s home system. A human cargo ship had contracts to deliver products to the Ublots and when they attempted to do so, the Tloung-hi destroyed them.
The Tloung-hi were unprepared for what happened next. Humans have a fetish for something they call ‘free trade.’ Add to that, humans as a whole took offense to the Tloung-hi destroying that one ship. You would have thought they were of the same nest but most of their people did not even know the names of the thirty some humans who died.
Several hundred human warships descended upon the Ublot system and completely destroyed the Tloung-hi blockade and then proceeded to hunt down any Tloung-hi ship within fifty light years. They only stopped when the Tloung-hi capitulated, offered financial restitution, and agreed to never attack a human vessel again. Needless to say, after losing more than a hundred ships, the Tloung-hi were fully prepared for the third demand.
When the Confederation offered the humans membership, the humans refused, citing the laws of the Confederation were incompatible with their Constitution, something about universal rights. I do not completely understand it all. But the Confederation leaders, those with real power, decided to isolate the humans and refused them passage in Confederation space. That did not work. The humans still travelled brazenly in Federation space and no members desired to challenge them militarily.
I sat outside the ruins of my home, holding my youngest hatchling, wondering when she would take her last breath. I was not alone. All over my planet, other parents did the same. Some already mourned.
It had been thirty-nine days since a series of solar flares had decimated my home system. Overnight, the planet’s infrastructure was completely destroyed. There was no power and little clean water. Crops failed and livestock died. What land not suffering severe drought was subjected to monsoons or hurricanes. Some of these hurricanes spanned entire continents.
In space, all our orbital platforms had failed. The largest had even crashed to the ground. Further out, past the fifth planet and in the asteroid fields, some platforms and factories survived. But not enough to help. We asked the Confederation for help but so far, none has come. Oh, they had promised to help. They claimed it would just take time.
Not in time to save billions of lives. Not in time to save my little Y’dochka. Tears fell down my face as I looked at my little girl. Her feathers had fallen out days ago. Her skin burned and painful to the touch. She occasionally regained consciousness, smiling up at me. Touching my face. Breaking my heart even further. I was helpless to save her.
I heard the crack of a distant sonic boom, then another. Dozens more followed. I looked up to see dozens, no hundreds of flaming paths as more debris entered the atmosphere. What now? More destruction? What had we done to displease the gods so?
But it was not debris crashing down. The objects slowed, changed directions and slowly I could see the outline of shuttlecraft. Ships I had never seen before. I stared in wonder as a second wave of booms cracked through the blistering heat. As far as the eye could see, ships dropped from space.
I felt a twinge of hope as one separated from the pack and slowed to a gentle stop over my home. Gracefully, almost delicately, the ship touched down. Steam hissed from exhaust ports and I could see the heat shimmering above the giant shuttle as the rear ramp lowered and dozens of beings ran out. Some pulling grav-pallets of cargo. One ran up to me and stopped.
Humans were the boogeymen of the Confederation . Nobody crossed them. Nobody really trusted them. Only criminals consorted with them.
Everyone knew that. I thought that. But I was wrong.
“Here,” the large human said as he dropped to my side. He had some sort of device on his shoulder that translated his words. “I have a medpac. We can save her.”
“But your medpacs will not work on Dalutians,” I answered. I dared not allow myself to hope.
“We planned for that,” the human waved a flashing metal wand over my child. “These medpacs are designed for your people. With the solar flares and your physiology, we knew we would need medicine for the burns and infections. Artificial skin to cover the worst. It has built in painkillers. But she needs fluids. I took a crash course on how to start IVs for your people.”
I must have looked stupid to the human. I just could not accept what was happening.
“Here. You are not as bad as her, but need some fluids, too. This has concentrated electrolytes and medicine to help you. Food will be ready pretty soon.”
The pouch he handed me, and it was a he as I had read that only their males had facial hair, was full of a cold fluid. I took the straw and drank greedily as I watched the man tend to my daughter. As he did, others dragged pallet after pallet out of the shuttle. Some started assembling some sort of prefabricated buildings while others ran through my little village, offering help where they found the need.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “I have nothing to repay you.”
“No need. We came to help.”
“But why? You are not part of the Confederation. My people have rarely even encountered yours.”
“So? You needed help. We had help to give,” the human never stopped treating Y’dochka. He had pierced the large artery in her left leg with a needle attached to a bag of greenish fluid. “Right now, there are over fifty cargo vessels in orbit with relief supplies and a dozen Nightingale class hospital ships. Once my people have the hospital built, we can treat the worst of your injured.”
“Even the Confederation could not… did not send this kind of help.”
“Shit, this is just the first wave. In a day or so, a hundred more ships will be here, then even more after that.”
“Your government sent so much?” I was dumbfounded.
“No. I mean, some of them are Terran Navy, maybe six cargo ships and all the Nigthingales. The rest are private ships with volunteers and donations from my people to yours.”
“Again, why? We are not allies. Your people even dislike the Confederation.”
“One, your people are not the Confederation. And two, we do not need allies. Alliances are political things and allies can betray you when it is in their best interest. We find that having friends is better.”
“But we are not friends.”
“We weren’t. But we are now. My name is Oliver Pierre.”
“I am Lakhul Solmnar. My daughter is Y’dochka. You said that most of your people are civilians?”
“Yep. An odd bag, too. Got two ships of nuns from the Sisters of Charity, four ships full of Mormons. They always show up where there are disasters. Two ships from New Damascus. They provided most of the medical supplies. About a dozen ships full of the crazy Vikings from Ny Österlen. They are the closest to your planet. And a bunch more.”
“I still find it hard to believe. Just… why you would help us.”
“There is a saying among some of my people. We call it the Golden Rule. ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’ Then there are others that believe in karma. Hell, old David over there was Boy Scout. He always says to do one good deed every day.”
“I do not know this word, karma.”
“It is a belief that the good or bad you do in this life determines your next one. Put simply, ‘What goes around comes around.’ I don’t quite know if reincarnation is real. But why take a chance, eh?”
I did not know what to think. It was all so alien.
“Ok. I have Y’dochka stabilized. We can move her to the hospital. She might need to go up to one of the ships for full treatment. These burns look pretty bad.”
The human carefully picked up my daughter as if she was a precious toy. My people were barely half the size of humans.
I followed him as he trotted to this freshly built hospital. Everywhere I looked, humans were doing the same for others in my village. I felt hope for the first time in weeks.
Yes, humans were a bit scary. They were huge and powerful. They were descended from predators. Maybe they are a bit prone to violence at the smallest provocation, or even contrary, illogical, and confrontational. I say, so what? In our time of need, when our allies sent platitudes and empty promises, when the trade consortiums waited to pick over the corpse of our system, the humans sent help. Out of all the known peoples in the galaxy, only the humans showed up in our time of need.
I tell you that the humans are also kind, compassionate, selfless, and even friendly, though I still do not understand their humor.
Allies? The human was right. My people needed less allies and more friends. From this day forth, I would thank the gods for that lesson.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Most Valuable Prospects I - Ashton Sylve Dominates Adam Kipenga Over 8 Rounds
(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});
By Hector Franco
Follow @MrHector_Franco !function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0],p=/^http:/.test(d.location)?'http':'https';if(!d.getElementById(id))(document, 'script', 'twitter-wjs');
Follow @Frontproofmedia!function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0],p=/^http:/.test(d.location)?'http':'https';if(!d.getElementById(id))(document, 'script', 'twitter-wjs');
Published: May 27, 2023
Most Valuable Promotions showcased an array of prospects from the Heavyweight division to bantamweight at the Caribe Royale Hotel in Orlando, Fl.
ORLANDO, FL - Regardless of any perceived negativity, Jake Paul has continued to prove that his involvement in boxing is with some of the best intentions. At the Caribe Royal Hotel in Orlando, Florida, Most Valuable Promotions put on the first edition of Most Valuable Prospects - a new series highlighting up-and-coming fighters that have the potential to become future world champions.
The night's main event was a showcase for ESPN Ringside's 2022 prospect of the year, Ashton "H2O" Sylve (8-0, 8 KOs). The Long Beach, CA native was dominant, displaying parts of his arsenal while applying pressure on his opponent, Adam Kipenga (11-4-1, 7 KOs). The Tanzanian fighter was a late replacement after his original opponent withdrew due to injury.
Sylve,19, remained patient, breaking down his opponent as the rounds passed, increasing his output little by little. Having not gone past 4-rounds in his career, Sylve could have been trying to gain some experience going the eight-round distance, as there were numerous moments that he could have turned up the intensity to end the right at any time. To his credit, Kipenga never seemed stunned and wasn't dropped.
Sylve would pick up the unanimous decision with all three judges awarding him the win with scores of 80-72 three times.
In the co-main event for the WBA Continental America's Title super lightweight title, Cuba's Kevin Hayler Brown (3-0, 2 KOs) fought in a close tactical match with Illinois' Julian Smith (6-2, 4 KOs). There wasn't much separating the two fighters in each round, with Brown utilizing a jab and Smith bulldozing on the inside, attempting land punches in combination. During exchanges on the inside, Smith landed the occasional right hand that caught the attention of fans in attendance.
The fight became monotonous through the middle rounds, with neither man imposing their will or taking a clear edge. Brown's jab maintained itself as the most prominent punch thrown by either man. In the end, Brown was awarded the title and the unanimous decision victory with scores of 98-92 and 96-94.
Heavyweights took center stage when Lorenzo "Giant Killer" Medina (7-0, 6 KOs) faced off against Cuba's Angel Napoles (1-1). Medina,18, is one of the most highly touted heavyweights in the state of Florida and found himself being severely tested by Napoles, who outworked his younger opponent while landing some hard right-hand blows. Medina never looked hurt and attempted to bait Napoles into more exchanges while landing his fair share of body punches.
Medina's heavier-sounding blows in combination would be the deciding factor, with all three judges awarding him a unanimous decision victory with scores of 58-56 three times.
Starting the main televised broadcast was a four-round middleweight contest between two undefeated middleweight prospects, Jamar "J-Money" Pemberton (4-1, 4 KOs) and Bryce "Baby Yaga" Henry (6-0, 4 KOs). The Florida fighter, Henry, was the first to strike, landing a straight counter right hand that landed perfectly, dropping Pemberton in the first round.
For his part, Pemberton seemed undeterred by the knockdown and continued to press Henry. The southpaw stance worked well for Pemberton; however, Henry landed counters in every round. Ultimately, the knockdown made the difference as all three judges scored the bout in Henry's favor with scores of 38-37 from all three.
Undercard Fight Results:
Kissimmee, Florida native Antraveous Ingram found himself in a stern test against Barstow, CA's Andrew Angelcor in a super welterweight match. Ingram used his size and reach advantages to land the cleaner and more telling blows in the majority of the rounds, winning a unanimous decision with scores of 40-36 from all three judges.
More super welterweight action occurred when Ramiro De Jesus (3-0-1, 2 KOs) stepped into the ring against Orlenis Licea (0-0-1), who was making his professional debut in a four-round bout. Arguably, one of the most exciting fights of the night with back-and-forth thrills, De Jesus and Licea battled to a majority draw with scores of 38-38 twice and 40-36.
In a six-round super lightweight bout, Fort Lauderdale's Tayre Jones (10–0, 6 KOs) faced off against Mexican veteran Robert Almazan Monreal (10-20, 4 KOs)l. In the second round, Monreal landed a counter right hand that stunned Jones, sending him down. Despite the knockdown, Jones remained mainly in control, landing his jab and staying the aggressor throughout. Jones walked away with a split-decision victory. Two of the three judges scored the bout for Jones with scores of 57-56 twice, and the remaining judge had Monreal winning with a score of 58-55.
Making his professional debut, Winter Haven, Florida's Giovanni Louis (1-0,1 KO) quickly stopped the overmatched and unqualified Carlos Rey Ramirez (0-2) in the first round of a featherweight contest.
Bayamon, Puerto Rico's Kevin "El Gallo" Nunez (2-1) won a unanimous decision victory over Mexico's Miguel Rebullosa (4-18, 2 KOs) in a four-round bantamweight match. All three judges scored the bout for Nunez with scores of 39-37 twice and 40-36.
0 notes
Text
A maggot born in a trap is stuck surrounded by nothing but its own, eventually forced to cannibalize the only few it's ever known. Trapped to live in a mass grave until it too can reproduce and be cannibalized by its own spawn. There's no humane way to confirm or deny if the same thing would happen with other animals, but sometimes experiments aren’t purposeful. The Delta-9 spacecraft was sent to find a new habitable home. Its mission was to travel to the far reaches of space until it finally found somewhere to land. A giant ship equipped with a multitude of farms, and enough seeds to feed a planet. Colonists were grouped by family and sent to live in their very own "houses" (They were apartment sized blocks containing 3 rooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen) The colonists were then left to their own devices. The mission was going well until about 50 years into the trip. Something happened and most of the farms had died, along with the seeds, leaving only 1 usable. The population on the ship had grown substantially, meaning it would be harder to survive on the ship if a solution wasn't created quickly. The crew started having some success helping the pants reproduce, until word got out to the colonists. As soon as they found out about the food shortage, there was an immediate uproar. Everyone was furious and rushing to stock as much food as possible. There were even a couple reports of breaking at the farm. Sure enough food ran out in a matter of no time. The colonists were now trapped in the vast expanse of space without food. The first month passed and children were dying first. Everyone had lost hope and some even killed off their young to spare them from starving to death. Most people split into groups. The most powerful group called themselves the prophets. They claimed "We [the prophets] are messengers of the stars. We were sent to deliver a message. If [the colonists] are to survive then we must resort to feasting on the weak." After that it took mere days for the first recording of cannibalism. It was a mother eating her dead child. Soon after the rest of the colony followed. The prophets were worshiped by most others, and created their own king of government. People would offer them sacrifices (food, water, clothing, ect.) And the prophets would assure their arrival to [to the new home]. Eventually the population started to dwindle. There were not enough people to supply the demand for meat causing the prophets to set up a "breeding area". They would select two people to create another child so the Colony could grow once more. They were once again thriving. Eventually, a new group was formed. This group called themselves "The righteous". The righteous claimed that the prophets were lying to the colonists. Eventually the contest was split into two groups. The followers of the righteous tried to create new farms. They attempted to engineer new seeds and plants. They still needed to eat, so they relied on the meat from those who were already dead. The prophets on the other hand believed that if they ate those who had sinned in the eyes of the stars, then they would reach the new home faster. They killed and ate those who the leaders determined were sinful. Neither group liked the other. We lost communication with the groups about a month ago, and have been unable to reconnect. Higher ups are talking about sending a rescue ship to save the remaining colonists. Some believe they should be left to die. Those who think they should be abandoned argue that they have already become cannibalistic monsters, and would be unable to return to society. Others think they should be saved, arguing that they are people and deserve to be returned to their homes and families. This has been a splitting issue and has caused some chaos and rioting. Last week I got a message through the radio. A man had managed to reach our station. Message reads thus: "This is [name redacted], a colonist of the Delta-9. If you are receiving this l, we have reached a habitable planet. Awaiting further instructions." Message end.
This has not been released to the public as of yet, but I believe that a rescue ship will be sent out soon.
-Commander [Name redacted]
1 note
·
View note
Text
Late Nights (The Outer Banks: Rafe Cameron)
This song just gives giant Rafe Cameron enemies to lovers vibes! Also, Holy shit, this is my longest work ever! I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much I enjoyed writing it!
This takes place season 1, before Rafe kills Peterkin. Let’s just pretend he’s not a psychopath. He’s still the resident bad boy of Figure 8, but not a killer…
summary: female reader (she/her) x Rafe Cameron When Y/N finds herself abandoned by her friends at a house party thrown by no other than Kook King, Topper Thornton, she finds odd company in the form of her classmates and neighbors that she has taken very little liking to. She is surprised to learn that her disinterest in all things “kook-related” has sparked the interest of a particular kook. tw: mention of alcohol/drug consumption, slight smut (18+) word count: 4.1k
Y/N might’ve been a kook, but if it wasn’t for her consistent attendance to Figure Eight events you wouldn’t have known. She hated all the superficial bullshit and quickly found herself befriending a certain group of pogues who she would often run into while working on the Cut. Everything in her life had been so easy for her, and although she was grateful, she couldn’t help but feel guilty about the privilege she received while her friends had spent their life fighting for a chance. Being able to find an ally in Kie was all that Y/N had to look forward to as she continued to find a place for herself among the fight between class divisions in her small hometown.
Summer was coming to an end, and with a few weeks left you couldn’t help but just enjoy the moments with your friends. Sitting on the small boat as the sun slowly set, passing the blunt around while you all tried to keep a serious conversation going before blurting out laughing at some stupid shit JJ had said. You had even found an unlikely friend in the form of kook princess, Sarah Cameron. You had known Sarah Cameron for as long as you could remember, always greeting each other’s families at events and having at least one class together every year. But this was different, you had known Sarah but never gave her a chance to hang out. When John B mentioned her a few weeks ago and started to bring her around you and the other pogues were stunned to say the least. You knew that she was dating Topper Thornton, I mean everyone knew that, but what she had with John B was different, at least from what you had seen. “This was great guys, but I promised Topper I would meet him at his party. Keep up appearances, you know?” Sarah said unsurely. Everyone looked around, nodding in understandment, except John B. “I don’t like him,” JJ spoke up, standing up for John B who continued sulking in silence. “Yeah, him and Rafe are always doing some shit,” Pope also spoke up. “You guys have no idea,” Kiara replied while rolling her eyes at the thought of the kook boys she had known so well. You also nodded in response. “Yeah, well I would invite you guys, but I can’t imagine that going over well.” Once again everyone nodded in agreement, except John B. “What if Y/N goes with you,” he suggested. “Thanks for throwing me under the bus!” you exclaimed back at him. Sarah turned to you with a shy smile, “It’s not such a bad idea. I mean you would know almost everyone.” “Yeah, so does Kie, you don’t see her being volunteered to go,” you exclaimed again. “That’s because they actually like you,” Kie replied, smirking when you rolled your eyes at her statement, she was right. “C’mon Y/N it’ll be fun. You’ll have me to hang out with and if you absolutely hate it, we’ll make up an excuse and leave. Besides, it’d be nice to have someone there that I don’t need to be fake with.” You thought for a moment before slowly nodding your head, cursing under your breath as your friends cheered around you. “There’s our little kookie,” JJ stated, jumping away in defense as you attempted to punch his arm.
The bass of the music pounded in your ears as you walked up the driveway. If even possible it got louder once you finally entered the front door, you swore your eardrums were about to rupture. Finding the kitchen, you reached out for two truly’s, your disappointment in the night continuing as feeling they were just room temperature. They weren’t your first choice of alcohol to get through a night like this and seeing as though they weren’t even cold made it worse. You instantly cracked it open, downing as much as you could on the first sip. You handed the other one to Sarah, bumping your open can to her’s in an attempt to say cheers. She laughed at you, “I’m gonna go find Topper. You’ll be okay if I leave you alone for a few minutes?” You took another sip before responding, “Figured this would happen at some point, yeah I’ll be good.” Watching her leave your eyes scanned the kitchen, deciding you needed to loosen up some more you pushed off the counter, “I need something stronger,” you whispered under your breath.
Making your way through the house you scanned the room for unattended bottles you could mooch off. To your surprise you were pulled by the arm, “Omg Y/N, what are you doing here?” a girly high-pitched voice screeched. You turned around, already ready to use your preppy voice, “Hey Claire,” you responded in a mock happy voice matching hers. Claire was sweet, n just not your cup of tea. The two of you had always been civil, sharing a few classes here and there. “Mind if I?” you asked, gesturing to the bottle of Tito’s vodka in her hand. “Oh sure, just be careful. I’ve gotten fucked up with this shit more times than I could remember,” she laughed while handing you the bottle. You lift the bottle up to your lips, the taste on the rim barely making an impact on your tastebuds. But as you thew your head back and lifted the bottle you took one big swig. The alcohol ran down your throat, a warmth following the path it took as it settled in your stomach. “Ugh, Claire, that shit is just straight rubbing alcohol. How the fuck do you drink that?” you exclaimed, handing her the bottle as you wiped the back of your mouth with your hand. She laughed at your reaction, “Believe me, in a little while you won’t even care how it tastes. Just know that you’ll feel it.” You nodded your head while once again scanning your eyes across the room. A few feet away was a coffee table surrounded by teens. Claire noticed your interest and dragged you over. Looking up from the table was Rafe Cameron, Sarah’s brother, who on more than one account you had gotten into a heated argument about your choice of friends. The two of you made eye contact as he wiped the leftover residue from the line of cocaine he had just done. Classy as ever Cameron, you thought as you broke eye contact and examined all the other teens waiting their turn. Rafe greeted Claire with a smirk and half-nod before returning his attention to you. “Awww Y/L/N, get tired of hanging around those boring old pogues, and decided to have some real fun?” he mocked while gesturing to the lines set up in front of him. You scoffed at his suggestion, “Keep dreaming,” you responded. Living in your teenage years and drinking was one thing, but if your parents caught you doing drugs there was a good chance you wouldn’t have much of a life to live. Making eye contact with you he slowly lowered himself closer to the table, quickly doing another line before looking up at you again. Is this kid trying to kill himself? you thought to yourself. You reached out for Claire’s bottle, taking another swig before motioning it up to Rafe. “Always a pleasure Cameron,” you stated before handing Claire her bottle.
Leaving the room, you realized that you hadn’t seen Sarah for a while. Wandering around the house in attempt to find her you bumped into Topper. “Hey Top, seen Sarah anywhere?” you asked. “Uhm a little while ago, she said she went to go find you,” he said quizzingly. “Yeah, right. Just kidding, she went to the bathroom. I’ll go find her,” you quickly spitted out. Nearly running you got away from Topper as fast as you could before finding an empty spot on the wall. Leaning back against the wall, you pulled your phone from your pocket and found a few texts from Sarah and one from John B. “Hey Y/N, John B showed up.” “We just left, please distract Topper.” “I owe you one.” You responded back, “ughh ok, I’m on it.” Clicking on John B’s name you read his message, “sorry kookie, had to steal her. thanks!” You rolled your eyes at the dumb nickname him and the others decided for you, their attempt to always tease you about your kook lifestyle. You sent him the middle finger emoji and a yellow heart before turning your phone off and looking around for Topper. Spotting him talking to Kelce you kept your place on the wall. As long as you could see him and he couldn’t see you, there was no reason to suspect anything about Sarah. Besides, after about half an hour you could probably make a break for the exit, and no one would notice.
As you continued to scroll on your phone you were slightly startled by the presence of another human standing near you. Your eyes looked up to a boy standing in front of you. He was tall, but you couldn’t ignore how young and immature he looked. “Don’t even think about it freshman,” you said before he had the chance. He laughed while nodding his head. “Hey, I had to try. Should’ve known a girl as smart as you wouldn’t give me a chance,” he responded. You gave him a quizzical look as you quickly glanced him up and down. He wasn’t too dumb if he knew to compliment your intelligence over any physical feature. He reached his hand out to shake yours, “I’m Nathan.” You glanced at his hand for a second before reluctantly shaking it “I’m Y/N,” you replied. “I know,” he said a little too quickly making the both of you chuckle. “Mrs. Nichol said you were the captain of the mock trial team. She talked to you the other day about me joining,” he rambled on. You laughed at his apparent nervousness. “Oh yeah, well I guess it’s nice to meet you, Nathan. Not exactly the type of place to bring up extracurriculars,” you laughed while motioning to the number of teens, drugs, and alcohol around you. As you did you could feel the stare from a certain kook, no doubt watching your exchange with the boy in front of you. “Probably not, but it did get you talking to me,” he quirked back. Nodding your head in amusement at his reply you responded, “Touché.” As the volume of the music had apparently increased within the last few seconds of your exchange, Nathan leaned forward slightly so he could hear you better. “Can I get you something to drink?” He asked while leaning down. “I can take it from here,” you heard Rafe speak from behind you as he slid his hand around to the small of your back. Confused by the situation unraveling in front of you, you were quick to speak. “Uhm, actually Cameron, Nathan and I were having a lovely conversation about something you couldn’t possibly be interested in,” you stated attempting to distance yourself away from Rafe and closer to Nathan. “Yeah, I—” Nathan attempted to speak before being interrupted, “Seriously, Miller, beat it or practice on Monday will be hell.” You confusingly looked at Nathan and Rafe before finally understanding. Just like you would be Nathan’s captain, so was Rafe. “Water polo?” you questioned. “Yeah, you’ll catch a game?” he asked in return. “Yeah!” you said sweetly before a mocking scoff turned your attention to Rafe, to which your surprise still had his hand on the small of your back, it almost felt natural that you hadn’t noticed it was still there. Looking at him expectantly he pulled his hands away holding them up in an ‘ok I get it’ way. “Can I help you?” you asked expectantly. “Care to go for a swim?” he asked. You looked at him confused, you weren’t sure if it was your light buzz from your shots of vodka talking but he seemed just as surprised as you were as you answered, “yes!”
As he grabbed your hand, you quietly followed as he led you through the house. “I’m gonna need more alcohol before we do this,” you exclaimed as loud as you could, hoping he would hear you over the volume of the music. He turned to look at you for a moment before turning back and nodding, showing that he had in fact heard your request. Walking through the kitchen he left you at the counter while reaching into one of the cabinets, pulling down a full bottle of Tito’s. He motioned you from your spot and you continued to follow. “My parents got this as a gift for the Thornton’s but it’s not really their style.” You nodded understandingly, Topper’s parents didn’t really seem like the type to be chugging back vodka shots, they were more sophisticated. Following him through the house you were confused as you walked past the sliding glass door that led to the pool and the dozens of other teens who had the same idea you two had, or so you thought. “Where are we going?” you asked. Rafe stayed silent as you continued following him. Opening another set of glass doors, he let you exit first before quickly following. On the side of the house was a hot tub that apparently no one knew about, seeing as though you and Rafe were the only ones out here. “What the hell is this, Cameron?” you asked. He looked at you, confusion evident on his face. “You said we were going swimming. We can’t do that in a hot tub.” He laughed before handing you the now open bottle of Tito’s, watching you take a sip he replied, “What, did you plan on working on your breaststroke or something?” He said jokingly. “No, I actually planned on playing mermaids. Maybe it’s you who needs to work on breaststroke,” you responded wittily. He feigned shock and hurt, taking the bottle from your hand. “My breaststroke is amazing, just ask your friend Claire,” he winked as you scoffed in amusement and disgust. After taking another sip he handed the bottle back to you, removing his clothes he stripped down until he was in his boxers. That left little to the imagination as you could see the outline of his dick printed. Feeling your eyes, he gave you a smirk to which you sheepishly took another sip of vodka, shaking as you felt the liquid burn down your throat. Entering the hot tub, he sat with arms spread out to both his sides, resting on the edge. “Aren’t you going to join me?” he asked. You nodded, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You handed him the bottle, starting to undress as you felt his eyes drawn to your exposed skin where you had begun to lift your shirt. “Hey! Turn around Cameron,” you exclaimed. He put his hands up in defense, turning his head so his attention was drawn to the bubbles and pressure coming from the jets. Folding your shirt and jeans on to the table nearby you turned back around to Rafe examining your exposed body adorning a basic black sports bra and lace thong. You immediately turned red, not knowing how to react under his intense stare. As you entered the hot tub you slipped when placing your foot on the bench to step in, landing you a little closer to Rafe then you planned. He held your arm as you attempted to steady yourself. “You alright?” he asked. You were able to manage out a “mhmm” as you reached for another sip from the bottle. He gladly handed you the bottle, a lazy smile on his face.
You weren’t sure how you always ended up like this but something about being drunk and outside led to you staring at the moon and stars. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Rafe asked, breaking the silence. You tried to remain calm with his choice of words, not wanting him to know the effect he was having on you. “Just thinking,” you responded quietly. “About what,” you scanned his face for a second, genuine interest radiating off him. “As niche as it sounds, life…I mean doesn’t this all seem so pathetic,” you stated as you continued to stare off into the sky. “Life?” he asked, laughing to mask his confusion. You chuckled along with him, “No, this…pogues vs. kooks. It’s all so fucking dumb. There are so many more problems out there, so many people who need help and we can’t even come together to help people in our own community.” He just hummed as you continued to ramble on, listening to what you had to say. “I can’t help but just feel guilty. I mean what did I do to deserve this type of life. I mean my parents work hard but they’ve had so many opportunities because of their parents and their parents, and it just keeps going. This sort of generational wealth and success…” you quietly trailed off as you realized who you were talking to. “But I mean you probably don’t care,” you said while looking at him. He shook his head with a smirk. “Now I know why Sarah never shuts up about how smart you are.” You looked at him more intently, “what?” you exclaimed. He nodded his head, before turning his attention to the sky like you had before. “I mean, I guess I just never thought of it that way. Kind of blind to the privilege that I have.” “Must be all the coke,” you mumbled to yourself under your breath. He shot you a warning look before chuckling, “might be the coke,” he responded. You laughed along with him before a serious tone washed over him. “I mean it Y/N, you’re just so attuned to the needs of others,” He exclaimed. “Well, you can be like that too,” you reassured him. “Yeah right, there’s not a lot of hope left for me,” he replied sarcastically. “That’s not true. I mean sure you have your flaws, but from what I’ve seen you’re a good friend, loyal and family is important to you. Those are good qualities, and I mean of course you’re not half bad looking.” He laughed at the last part. “Well, Y/L/N, you’re extremely caring, intelligent, and hot as fuck! So, you have that going for you.” It was your turn to laugh and turn red at his comment. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol dulling your senses, but as you looked into Rafe’s eyes you felt yourself being drawn closer. You both leaned in, lips barely brushing each other as your breaths slowed. “Can I kiss you,” he asked. You could barely hear him over the sound of your own heart beating in your chest. “Please,” you nearly whined. Your tone making Rafe swoon as he gently pushed his lips onto yours.
As happy as you were with his gentleness, the alcohol you had consumed throughout the night had made you far hornier than you liked to admit. Leaning deeper into the kiss you gently placed your hands onto his chest before lightly pushing him back to so you could straddle his lap. As you did so, Rafe took a large sip from the bottle, as you looked at him expectantly. He gave you a smirk before bringing the bottle close to your lips, tilting your head back, you let him pour some of the alcohol down your throat. Before you could process the liquid once again burning the back your throat you pressed a heated kiss on to his lips. As your hands moved up from their place on his chest to the back of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair, his hands move from where he was setting the bottle down to trailing around your waist and landing on your ass, holding you in place. As your tongues continued to fight for dominance, he pulled away slightly. Kissing down your jaw and starting to suck on your neck you slightly grinded down on to him while continuing to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. His hands left your waist, guiding your hips back and forth as you continued to grind on him. As he continued to work on your neck you moaned as he found your sweet spot, “Fuck Rafe,” you exclaimed. You could feel him smirk as he continued. Giving him a break, you leaned forward slightly, changing the angle to which you were grinding down on him and leaving marks over his neck and chest. “Fuck babe,” he stated. “Being so good to me,” he continued as he leaned in for another kiss. “Yes, sir,” you said, testing the waters. You could clearly tell that you were starting to drive Rafe crazy as he moaned into your mouth at your response. Roughly grabbing your hip, he speeded the pace of your grinding. As you continued to litter marks along his chest, he reached a hand up to pull your sports bra down far enough so that your boobs were spilling over the top. The pressure of the band along with the added sensation of Rafe’s mouth on your nipple was almost too much. Along with this you could feel how hard he had gotten under you. I mean, you knew he was big, but this was godly. Your makeout session was quickly abrupted as you both snapped your heads to the sound of the glass doors sliding open. Quickly removing yourself from Rafe’s lap and adjusting your bra, you sat silently, reaching for the bottle again. “What’s up Top?” Rafe asked nonchalantly. Topper looked at you both slyly, clearly knowing what he half-witnessed between the two of you. “Not much, I can’t find Sarah anywhere Y/N. And she’s not answering her fucking calls.” “Yeah, she wasn’t feeling well. Said she headed home; her phone probably died. Don’t worry Top,” you said as convincingly as the alcohol would let you. Topper seemed to accept your answer and reentered the house. Rafe looked at you unconvincingly. “She just left you?” he asks. Avoiding his gaze, you let your hands play with the water. Slowly nodding your head, you responded, “guess so…” “That doesn’t sound like Sarah,” he continued. “Well that’s what happened,” you snapped. Thinking about the conversation you would have to have with Sarah about how you failed to keep Topper distracted and the alcohol finally making its presence in your system known was too much to handle. “Ughh back to reality, I guess,” you groaned out. Rafe pulled you into his side so that his arm was around your shoulder and your head resting on his. “What are you up to now?” he asked. “Figuring how to make it home alive,” you chuckled dryly. He hummed in thought next to you. After a second, he spoke, surprising you in the process, “Stay with me.” “Rafe…” you dragged out unsurely. “Seriously Y/N, that way you don’t have to worry about going home right now.” You looked at him for a second before slowly nodding. Getting out of the hot tub he disappeared for a second before returning with a set of towels. As you both dried yourselves off and gathered your clothes you headed to Topper’s guestroom.
Stumbling around in your drunken state, Rafe grabbed the clothes from your hand. Setting them on a nearby table he turned so that you were facing each other. Reaching down slightly he grabbed your legs from under your thighs so that he was now carrying you. Feeling the warmth of his chest you pressed closer, wrapping your legs around his hips in the process. With each step you slightly bounced against him. The sexual tension from earlier quickly returning. Finally reaching the room Rafe laid down so that you were now on your back while he hovered over you. With your legs around his waist and arms around his neck you gently pulled him in, pecking a sweet kiss on your lips. “I need to shower,” you said shyly. He nodded his head, pulling away slightly so he was standing, and you stayed sprawled out on the bed. “I’ll go get us some water,” he stated as he slowly walked out the room. Leaving the door cracked enough so he wouldn’t bother anyone with the sound of it opening and closing you sat up, finally taking in your surroundings. Getting up and heading to the bathroom you folded your towel, pulling off your bra and underwear as you let the water run until it was hot enough. As you let the water run over your body you stood for a minute, just thinking about everything that had happened that night, you rub your hands down your face, muttering “fuck.” You weren’t sure what was happening, but it was a problem future you would just have to deal with later.
a/n: If you like my work please support by liking/reblogging. Also, feel free to message me about ideas. I haven’t written in a while because I don’t have a lot of time, but when inspiration hits i’ll sit down for hours :)
Masterlist
#teentvimagines#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#obx#obx netflix#obx imagine#obx imagine rafe#obx rafe cameron#Spotify#obx imagines
420 notes
·
View notes
Text
Three is the Magic Number, Pt. 3 // TASM!Peter Parker x GN!Reader
[Spoilers for No Way Home]
Masterlist // Series Master Post
Summary: When Doctor Strange accidentally opens the multiverse while trying to help Peter Parker, reader gets swept up into the mess. A magic user training at the Sanctum Sanctorum with secrets of their own, they attempt to navigate a universe where multiversal beings are spilling in and causing trouble, all while struggling with their own magic. And then a certain version of Peter Parker catches their eye.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue
Notes: Gender Neutral!Reader, reader is a magic user and an avenger, death, talking about grief, use of ‘Y/N’.
Word Count: 1823 | 2 sections
1.
Not for the first time, you wondered whose bright idea it had been to put a shield on the Statue of Liberty. You were all here as were the super powered individuals from the other dimensions. Peter, not your Peter, the other younger Peter, had made you promise to stay on the sidelines and despite your initial reservations, you had agreed.
The conversation on the roof had really helped you. Those thoughts had been swirling over your head quite persistently and it had felt amazing to tell someone who hadn’t judged you for being selfish. And the hug, well … you felt a little bad about that. Yes, you’d needed comfort in that moment but you didn’t want Peter to think that you were the same person he had known in his universe. It had been years since his version of you had died and it was for the best if he learned to move on. You would not get in the way of that.
You were hidden away safely in the lab while Ned opened a portal to the Statue of Liberty for the three Peters to step through. You had your palms cupped, attempting to channel your magic. You wouldn’t tell any of them about this until you felt like you were making progress, and you did have to admit that the pulsing blue light appeared stronger than it had in months. You would just have to keep practising and believe in yourself.
That last part would be tough. But you would practice that too.
You were concentrating so hard that you didn’t notice that Ned’s attempts to close the portal were not working. It wasn’t until the ugly lizard came through the portal right into the lab, chasing Ned and MJ around the work tables, with Peter at its heels, did your concentration break.
The more that you had been channelling your magic over the last half hour, the more easily it had flown. Gone was the indecision that made your magic dry out from constant use. Your friends needed you and you didn’t need to save everyone. You just had to save as many of them as you could.
And so just as the lizard sailed toward you, you conjured an orb and sent it crashing into the giant reptile. The blow wasn’t as powerful as you had intended it to be but it was enough to startle the creature into careening right back out the portal again.
Ned, now on the other side of the portal, turned to look at you with his jaw open. “Whoa.”
“I think my magic is back,” you said, grinning exuberantly.
“Awesome!” said Ned, matching your intense joy.
You ran out the portal to the other side, closing it securely behind it. Nat’s voice rang out in your head. First, make sure there are no civilians around. “I need to get you two far enough away from here to be safe but close enough so I can keep an eye on you. Portals aren’t really my speciality and Ned, let’s not open any more of those until we learn how to close them. Yes?” Ned nodded. ‘Great.”
Digging deep into your magic reserve, you took your friends by the arms, Ned on one side, MJ on the other, and did something you hadn’t done in six years. And it would really be a shame if this did not work because you would all definitely plummet to your deaths. But you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take so here goes nothing.
All three of you screaming, you stepped off the edge of the scaffolding and … didn’t fall. You were actually flying. Not just solo, but with two people in tow. Every inch of your skin was channelling magic. Feeling it flowing this freely after years made you feel like you were breathing again for the first time.
The magic gently carried the three of you to the ground. Ned and MJ immediately ran off, away from the entire scene which was likely to murder them in seconds. You turned and flew right back up to the scaffolding. Looking around, you managed to locate all three Spider-mans, although it was a little hard to tell them apart in their Spidey suits.
There was a plan and it involved the three Peter Parkers saving the day and the rest of you staying safe. So you positioned yourself accordingly - you wouldn’t go gallivanting into the midst of the scene which would likely only confuse all the Peters and make them very concerned about your safety. Instead, you would stay on the sidelines, making sure they were protected from every single threat. Yes, they had their Peter-tingle but they might not be able to dodge the very many threats present at that moment.
You began working on the super-specialised shields that Strange had been teaching you about over the last few months. You understood the theory of it all but had never been able to accurately cast one due to your diminished powers. But, as they say, no time like the present.
The spellwork was detailed but you were nothing if not focused. You cast a quick invisibility spell on yourself and got to work, focusing on one Spider-man at a moment, making sure the lines of the shields were following the regulated patterns of their suits while also being fine enough that they wouldn’t distract the Peters from their work. It especially helped that since your magic was blue, you could camouflage it with the colour of the Spidey suit.
However, you were so focused on the complex spellwork that you didn’t see one of the Electro blasts heading in your general direction. All you registered was a strange burnt smell close to you and in the next instant, you were lying on the scaffolding with the section next to you completely scorched.
One of the Spider-mans was hanging over you, his hands on your waist. “Are you okay?” he said, ripping his mask off. It was Peter from the rooftop, his hands shaking as he looked you over. “Are you hurt?”
“How did you- I was invisible!”
“Are you hurt?” His voice was frantic.
“No, I’m okay. You saved me. I’m fine.”
“Oh, thank God. It was the Spidey sense. I could tell you were about to get hurt and - I was so afraid. You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Are you okay?”
His face crumpled and you quickly pulled him down into a hug. “It’s okay. We’re both okay. You saved me. We’re okay.”
He pulled away and helped you up. “They’re okay,” he shouted out to the other two Peters, both of them looking at you, clearly alarmed. They must’ve sensed the danger to you too.
Peter turned back to you again. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on the other side of the portal, like you promised.”
You spoke quickly. “Ned couldn’t get the portal shut and then my magic started to work and so we all stepped through and I got Ned and MJ safely away from here but now since my magic is working again, which is super cool, I thought I’d stay and make sure the three of you are safe as well.”
You were panting by the end of it. A hint of a smile appeared on Peter’s face. “Your magic is back?”
“Yeah! All of it. All thanks to you.” You beamed at him.
He opened his mouth to say something but another Electro bolt landed nearby and you both snapped to attention.
“I’ve got shields on all three of you. It’s highly specialised spellwork and I’ve done a fantastic job if I do say so myself. Now get out there and kick some butt.”
Peter hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward, planted a kiss on your forehead and flew off.
You couldn’t fight the smile that climbed onto your face.
2.
You waited until you were sure your Peter had injected the serum into the man known as Green Goblin before hopping onto the fallen remnant of Liberty’s shield. “You guys did it,” you said, smiling at them all. “Strange is setting up the spell to close the multiverse. You guys can go back to your universes now.”
Your Peter exchanged a quick hug with his multiverse versions and ran off to talk to Strange. Ned and MJ had also arrived on the scene and were waiting for him. You turned back to the other two Peters. Once again, the older of the two seemed to sense that you wanted to talk to his younger counterpart.
“Thanks for the shield,” he said, stepping away. Your shield had helped deflect a weapon of the Green Goblin that would have otherwise resulted in the eldest Peter Parker being stabbed. Beaming, you nodded and turned your attention back to the Peter Parker who had come to mean so much to you over a very short period of time.
“Hey,” you said.
“Hey,” he said. “That was some cool spellwork out there.”
“That was some cool Spider-manning out there.” He let out a bark of laughter, as did you. “Tell me about them?”
He furrowed his brows. “My version of you?”
“No.” You smiled and then sighed. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”
He shot you a sheepish grin. “That obvious?”
“What’s their name?”
“Gwen. She used to go to my high school and we live in the same apartment building now. She’s nice.”
“And you haven’t asked her out because?”
He sighed. “I-”
“Peter, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Since your version of me isn’t here, as someone who is literally them, I know they would want you to move on and be happy. They would want you to forgive yourself.”
Tears began crowding in his eyes. “What if something happens and Gwen gets hurt? I can’t lose her too.”
“First of all, a bizarrely wise person once told me that it’s not about saving everyone, it’s about saving as many people as you can. And that you should never use that as an excuse to not live your life. Second, you saved me today. If you dated this Gwen, the safest place for her on the planet will be right next to you, I know it.”
He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, laughing a little. “That bizarrely wise person you know sounds amazing. And you’re pretty bizarrely wise yourself”
You looked at Strange standing over the Statue of Liberty. “The spell is almost done. I’m not going to lie, I’m going to miss not having you in this universe.”
“I’m going to miss being in this universe.”
As you smiled at each other, you knew exactly what the perfect parting gift would be. You stepped closer at the same time, lips brushing each others’, his fingers interlacing with yours.
Peter smiled against your lips.
Like coming home.
xxx
Thank you so much for reading this! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. :) - Nina
Taglist:
@haileysshrine @calums-betch @teenwolfgirl90 @jannieka394
#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm peter x reader#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader#marvel#peter parker fanfiction#no way home#no way home spoilers#spiderman no way home x reader
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
1 + 10 = Dark and Primal (Predator/Prey) Kink
Summary: Exactly what the title says!
Warnings: Reader is gender-neutral but does own a vagina, primal kink roleplay, semi-public sex, dom/sub, squirting, multiple orgasms, and dirty talk. Ye have been warned!
A/N: This is the first fic drabble to come from the number prompt game!
Tag List:
@when-the-sun-goes-dark
@underthedark13
@fruitypieq
As always, if you would like to support me, I have a Ko-Fi (here) for donations/tips and I usually have a few slots open for commissions (unless life gets in the way)!
“Tell me something,” A deep, rich voice spoke suddenly, “What’s a darling thing like you doing out here, all alone, so late at night?”
Instantly your head whipped to the side, eyes narrowing to scrutinize the tree line for any sign of the stranger, but found nothing other than darkness in return. You were about ready to continue on your trek and blame it on the sleepless night when the intruder let out a rumbling chuckle, the noise echoing around you in every direction.
Hairs now standing on end, you clutched your bag tighter to your body and asked nervously, “Who-Who’s there?”
“Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”
Your lips suddenly felt too dry, the night too cold, the lamp posts too dim, as you belatedly realized that you’d not seen another person on this sidewalk for way too long. It was just you and this stranger.
“I-I’m just walk-walking,” you stammered pitifully.
Dread pooled in your gut and the sense of being utterly alone and helpless intensified egregiously as one by one all the lamp posts in your line of sight flickered out.
“Ooh fuck,” you whispered.
Finally, your self-preservation instinct kicked in and you took off running. It was a dark night, the moon a sliver in waning crescent and providing almost no light. Every slap of your shoes on the ground felt like a league farther from the man. Even as your heart pounded in your ears and your lungs burned with the taste of blood, you didn’t dare slow down. How far would you have to run? Did you dare take your chances hiding out in the woods?
As soon as hope started to rise, it was quickly dashed back down.
“You humans, so fragile.”
The whispered voice in your ear tore a frantic scream from your throat, fear locking up your legs, sending you tumbling forward. Of course you would fall! It wasn’t until he laughed, a smooth luscious sound, that you realized you were braced tight for an impact that hadn’t come.
“What the…”
When your eyes finally opened, you saw the concrete of the sidewalk uncomfortably close to your face but not touching. And then you were lifted. Darkness shrouded your view as arms tightened around your torso and brought you back to your own two feet. A cool gentle breath caressed the shell of your ear seconds before you felt the familiar shape of a nose against your neck.
“I’m giving you one last chance,” he huffed bemusedly, “Think fast but run faster, little fawn, for it will take all of your abilities to escape me.”
“W-Who are you?!” you gasped out.
As the darkness left your vision and the hands retracted from your sides, he purred almost imperceptibly, “I go by Dark, but you may call me sir.”
Then all at once, you were alone. You hesitantly looked around, eyes wide with fear.
“RUN!”
A fearsome screech of terror scratched your throat raw as you stumbled and took off as quickly as possible. You knew if you stayed on the paved path he’d only catch you just as easily as before. You had to chance the forest.
No matter how quiet you tried to be, it felt like every noise you made called out to him thricefold. Your breaths sounded like alarms in your ears and the forest floor cried out like little spies with every timid step you made.
“Oh little fawn, where might you be?”
“Shit,” you whispered in shock.
How were you ever to evade him? It was obvious he wasn’t human. There was no possible way a human could catch up to you without making noise, could track you so perfectly in a nearly pitch black forest. Of course there were also the insane reflexes, catching you so close to the ground, and his ability to speak clearly to you while being nowhere in sight.
Oh so slowly, you let your guard down as you shuffled carefully through the heavily wooded area and got lost in your thoughts; finding out what he was, felt as important as hiding from him. A soft noise of triumph escaped your lips as you spotted a rather large hollow in the base of a giant tree. Your eyes darted around one last time to make sure you didn’t see anyone before you ducked into the wood shelter.
Just as your back pressed up against the trunk, you heard a twig snap outside. The forest was uncannily quiet, no sound of animals nor wind to impede noises made by either you or him.
“A smart little thing you are, aren’t you?”
Your breath caught as fear slammed your heart into your ribcage like a drum. His voice was close, too close. Another crunch of branches and leaves drew your eyes to the right of your hollow. Even in the darkness of the woods, his black pants stood out against the greens and browns. Your assailant was wearing… suit pants? Despite the silliness of the situation, your nerves only increased as he crept closer and closer to you.
“Where are you?” he sang out lowly.
Hushed humming graced your ears delightfully as he passed you, hands clasped behind his back as if simply taking a nice stroll. You couldn’t control the way your stomach fluttered as the beautiful cadence of his voice filled the hollow. Someone so dangerous shouldn’t sound so inviting.
A quick rush of air released from your lungs as he continued on without incident and relief filled your veins. Head falling back, you let your eyes close and took deep slow breaths.
“It’s adorable that you think you’ve won, my little fawn.”
There wasn’t a word deep enough to describe the bone-chilling terror that flooded your body at the sound of his voice so close. Slowly your eyes fluttered open, only to discover a pair of legs standing in front of your only exit.
“Come out now, admit defeat, and I might even be gentle with you, darling,” he offered slyly.
“Fuck you,” you grit out.
Before you could second guess your actions, you bolted forward, right into his legs. While you were sure you didn't harm him, your actions surprised him enough to allow you the room to shove by. You had made it only a couple feet when hands were on you, one gripping your shoulder while the other pinched around the nape of your neck. A cry of shock and pain fled your lips as he shoved you face-first up against the nearest tree and pinned you with his body. Escape was looking more and more like a fool’s dream and yet you didn’t stop wiggling, trying your hardest to break free to no avail.
“Mmm, I do love it when my dinner puts up a fight, makes you smell all that more delectable,” he purred as his thigh slipped between yours, “And don’t fool yourself into believing I can’t smell just how aroused you are.”
Mortification burned up your face and you bit your lower lip hard to contain the distraught noise that threatened to break forth as he leaned into you. The pressure of his thigh served to further argue his point, your panties soaking up the slick between your thighs.
“P-Please,” you whispered shakily.
“Please what?” he mocked, “Please let you go? Now, you know I can’t do that, darling. I’m absolutely ravenous and you’re ripe for the taking.”
Teeth gently grazed the tender flesh of your throat and sent goosebumps across your flesh.
“It’s been so long since I’ve had such a sweet little human to play with,” he groaned quietly.
Fingers teased the sliver of skin poking from beneath your top, tracing the waistband of your shorts with languid little strokes; teeth mimicking the action against your neck.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want this, darling. I’ve smelled your interest since the instant you started to run,” he whispered, giving another gentle roll of his hips.
Before you could contain it, an excited little squeak escaped as you felt the hardening bulge grind against your ass.
“There it is. Give in to me,” Dark murmured, “I promise this will be an experience unlike any other.”
You didn’t dare give an answer. The words felt too wrong on your tongue despite the sudden urge in your body demanding an agreement. As terrifying as he was, there was something about his presence that intrigued you. It felt like there was a war going on in your head as you gingerly wiggled your hips back against him and tilted your head to the side, allowing him full access to your neck.
The moan he gave in return made your knees weak.
In one rough movement, you heard the tell-tale rip of your shorts being ruined and then your hips were lifted in the next.
“Ooh, look at the mess you’ve made of yourself, little fawn,” he cooed mockingly as a finger danced across your lips, “It will be all the easier to make you mine.”
That was your only warning before his cock was lined up against your cunt, thick head breeching every so slightly before he slammed in. Tears sprung up into your eyes and you buried your face harder against the bark as a pathetic cry warbled out. It was devastating and heavenly all at once. When he didn’t follow up immediately, you couldn't help but arch back into him.
“What a needy little thing you are,” he chuckled, “I’m going to have so much fun with you before I destroy you.”
Never in a thousand years did you think you’d find yourself in this position, being hunted down and fucked in the middle of the forest, and yet there wasn’t a place you’d rather be in that moment.
Dark’s pace was brutal, the position even more so. Every thrust of his cock rocked you up against the tree, bark scraping and digging at your skin. Every attempt to move back sunk him deeper inside you. It felt like a never ending sea of desire. It wasn’t long until you were begging for more, until the sting of the micro cuts on your skin was just another layer to the destructive pleasure coiling in your core.
“You want more? You want to come? Then touch yourself,” he ordered huskily, “Rub your clit and make yourself come on my cock while I claim you as mine.”
His meaning came through loud and clear. He intended to mark you in the most primitive of ways, in ways no one had before. You’d never let any other come inside you, too afraid of the risks.
“N-No, don’t-”
Fingers dug into your wrist and jerked your hand down between your cunt and the tree, forcing you where you wanted it most.
“It’s no use, darling, it’s too late,” he snickered, “You’re already in the lion’s den and there’s no escape. Not anymore. You belong to me now.”
You could feel his teeth bared a wicked smile against your skin before they clamped down around your throat. Pain exploded and pulsed through your veins with every beat of your racing heart, and yet it pervertedly only urged you faster. Your fingers shook under the duress of all the sensations assaulting your nerves but you worked them nonetheless, too lost to the desire.
His moan rumbled through your very being as you tightened uncontrollably around him, teetering just on the edge of bliss.
“Mine.”
That one word was spoken with such conviction and punctuated with absolute abandon, all sanity lost as you seemingly became a means to an end; a prey to claim and fill.
“Mine! All mine,” he snarled against your shoulder, “Give yourself to me, now!”
His hand came to cover yours and joined in the efforts, frantically abusing your sensitive nub until finally it all snapped.
“Ah f-fuck, D-Dark, oh my god!”
Your ruse slipped as his name spilled from your lips, but you couldn’t care less as everything coalesced with a vengeance. The pain, the pleasure, the emotions. It was all worth it as your pleasure drenched your thighs, a sob falling from your lips in debauched relief. Pulse after pulse of ecstasy rocked through your core as he fucked you through your first climax into another, and then another.
Stifled grunt and moans shifted gradually into full blown snarls of bliss as he threw your hands up against the tree, pinning both with one while his other arm wrapped around your waist and held you in place.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Shot after shot of hot cum filled your core, palpable with every throb of his cock, and you couldn’t resist melting back into him. With a final few thrusts, he released your hands only to pull you in close and hold you upright as he turned, putting himself between you and the tree as you both came down from the high.
“Holy hell,” you giggled, head tilting back to look up at him.
Dark gave a little chuckle and cupped your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks and directing you up into a gentle kiss.
“I promised the full experience. Was anything too much?” he asked.
“Mm-mm. It was perfect,” you whispered.
As best as you could in the awkward position, you snuggled back into him and pulled his arms around you.
“You can hunt me any time you want,” you admitted cheekily.
318 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mass Effect Trailer Thoughts
*EDIT* -- there are now TWO UPDATES to this post with additional screenshots, thoughts and theories, please check that one out! :)
I wrote an unhinged disorganized post before... now I’ll attempt breaking things down in a much more logical way. :D
1) It’s basically confirmed that this is both the Milky Way and Andromeda in the same shot.
2) The audio is some actual and I think some fictional mix of communications --
“We know now that in the early years of the 20th century, this world was being watched” is from War of the Worlds
“Eagle Houston, you are go for landing, over” is from the moon landing.
“Arcturus Station, uknown vessel approaching, we need first contact protocols” would probably be new dialog from the First Contact War.
“Humanity now stands as partners in the galaxy” is likely new dialog from after the end of the FC war when humanity was accepted as a Citadel species.
“Ark Six is away, godspeed” is new dialog, likely a reference to the Andromeda Initiative. There were six arks in the initiative.
3) This system isn’t in any of the first three games as far as I can tell -- and I logged into ME3 with the EGM mod wherein literally every system in all three games is used as extra content and looked at them all. Anyone recognize it?
4) This is anyone’s guess but... possibly... what’s through the Omega relay? the rings seem... very densely packed.
5)Two moons and a gas giant looking planet. I don’t even want to hazard a guess. The planet itself could look like Jupiter, but Jupiter has a lot more moons.
6) Then of course, we have the destroyed mass relay.
This comes with the dialog about taking down a dreadnaught, and (sensors?) are going crazy, and abandoning the ship, and then the REAPER SOUND.
Then “Is anyone receiving this? We’ve lost contact.”
So all of this felt like traveling through time, and here we finish Mass Effect 3.
7) Then comes this image... which again, does not really look like any system recognizable in any of the games.
An indistinguishable female voice says something about Humanity (something like “Humanity is all the problems its faced”? Maybe?) and a male voice... which sounds a little like Clancy Brown (Alec Ryder) to me, but... maybe I need to play through the Andromeda prologue again.
The slight break in the action there may be accounting for the 600 years passing before Andromeda.
The break in the action could also mean it’s something in the future of what we’ve seen, something new.
8) Now, we come to this planet.
There are THREE MOONS... and Alchera has three moons. Maybe this is a coincidence. Or maybe this is Alchera. It seems oddly specific for them to show the three moons in sequence if there wasn’t a reason for it.
9) It’s confirmed that Liara is walking up a reaper here. There ALSO appears to be a SECOND reaper in the background (look just above the sun, you can see reaper-like wires and follow that outline to see the other reaper’s legs.)
10) There appears to be more stuff, maybe N7 striped stuff, than just the fragment Liara picks up buried in the snow here.
11) This may be a part of an N7 helmet, but it can’t be Shepard’s N7 helmet.
You get the helmet as a reward for finishing the Alchera DLC in ME2 (so basically, Shepard brings it along after planting the monument), and although the part is similar on the side here, it’s definitely not the same. This is Shepard’s helmet on the SR-2 in ME2, loaded it up and took the pics with flycam just to confirm.
14) That’s definitely a Salarian on the left and probably a Krogan on the right. Guesses for the center person... Human? Turian? Angaran? (Comedy answer: Javik? Though we don’t know how long Protheans lifespans are so... hey! Anything’s possible!)
13) Liara has crow’s feet and laugh lines -- she’s most likely much older in this trailer than we saw her last in ME3. Perhaps... 600 - 700 years older? Grunt would likely be the only other ME/2/3 companion still alive. (Wrex was alive to fight in the end of the Krogan Rebellion in 700 CE, if this is post-Andromeda that would place him at over 2000 years old, I don’t think Krogan lifespans are that long. Drack is considered an old man at 1400. But it could be possible.)
So my best theory right now aligns with what I’ve seen other people guess -- this game will take place sometime after Andromeda and serve to bridge the two galaxies, but how that happens and why Liara is retrieving a piece of broken N7 armor is anyone’s guess. I have a few wildly unhinged theories myself. :D
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
that makes four.
story page | talk to me + join the tag list
PART 1
Your feet dangled down from the stool, elbows on the granite counter when Jeff turned around. “Alright,” he said, lips in a thin smile when he revealed the plate of reheated lasagna that someone dropped off in the last few days. “Smells good.”
You looked up at him with an unimpressed stare. “It looks a little disgusting.”
“It’s vegan, I think.”
“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes. “You start one all natural skincare line and people think you only eat plant-based shit.”
He let out a small laugh, set the plate down and watched as you picked up the fork. One bite--mediocre. Not exactly hot enough, but after all Jeff had done for you the last few days, you didn’t have the heart to demand he put it in for another minute.
“So--do you think it went well?”
You laughed around the food in your mouth, picked up a paper napkin and let your head tilt to the side. “As good as a funeral could be.”
The lights in your kitchen were dim and the sun had already faded behind the trees, the house quiet after people finally filed out. Friends, extended family, strangers you’d never met had flocked to Los Angeles for the funeral of your famous father.
It’d been coming from a mile away. His health declined, an obvious result of the cocaine and the cigarettes and whatever else he’d ingested regularly in the 70s. A heart attack a year ago put him on a fast track to the afterlife, but he always joked that he’d probably end up in hell.
Being in the music industry ruined him, in a way--it ruined your parents’ marriage and it ruined a lot of the relationships your father had. Blow outs and big fights that left him exiled from a lot of social circles, sometimes never speaking to people again after one bad phone call. But it was never like that with Irv.
“Well, I’ve never seen my dad cry so hard,” Jeff smiled. “He really loved him.”
Another bite of the soggy noodles and fake cheese. “I know.”
A comfortable silence, the doors off the kitchen were open, a breeze from the backyard let the southern California warmth blow through the sheer curtains when you sipped at your left over wine.
Jeff was the closest thing you had to a sibling, his family was all you had left at this point. You were tossed in the bathtub with him and his siblings as a baby, shoved into family photos and tagged along for vacations.
Being closest in age to Jeff meant people always hoped it would be the two of you that would end up together. Happily ever after or having babies of your own. But when you saw Jeff wolf down a whole pizza at his bar mitzvah, any hope of a spark between the two of you had been permanently extinguished.
His older sister was the one who told you what it meant to have sex, and after your mom died, his mom helped you pick out a dress for your Sweet Sixteen.
She was the one who talked you off the ledge when you found out you were pregnant only a few years later, she was the one who threw you both baby showers and she was the one who helped you through your divorce only six months earlier.
So now that your dad was gone, too, you wondered where you fit into their family and what your definition of family even was.
Before the thought could cross your mind, the front door was pushed open and the sound of high pitched giggles floated in from the foyer.
CeCe’s tiny voice echoed down the hall. “Uncle Jeff?”
“Is that my CeCe?” He took a few steps forward and she ran straight into his legs, he hoisted her up onto his hip when Maeve rounded the corner with Tristan in tow.
“Hi honey,” you opened an arm so your ten-year-old could fit into the side of you. She leaned her head on her shoulder. “How was ice cream?”
The easiest ploy to get them out of the house while you hosted some kind of awkward afterparty.
“Fine,” she sighed. “But Tristan said that funerals are a selfish attempt by the living to hold on to someone after they’re dead.”
You blinked a few times and looked down at her, shocked by the words and apparently, her ability to understand them. You looked over at Tristan, arched eyebrows to communicate how displeased you were.
His eyes went wide when Jeff choked down a laugh. “I didn’t--I don’t know what you’re talking about Maeve.”
You kissed Maeve on the head. “Well, Tristan is wrong about a lot of things, trust me. But you two should go get ready for bed, it’s been a long day.”
You looked over at him again--younger by two years and easily one of the most important people in your life. You met him only a year after you started your business, he had a knack for brand management and eye for design that you couldn’t pass up. He was way too sarcastic and cynical to be your regular babysitter, but Jeff and his family were basically in the receiving line beside you.
Jeff let CeCe climb down and Maeve took her by the hand as they headed for the kitchen stairs to the second floor, leaving you alone at the island with two of your closest friends.
He waited until he heard the water turn on from their bathroom sink, then whispered in Tristan’s direction. “Great idea to say that to a ten-year-old and a six-year-old after their grandpa dies.”
Tristan rolled his eyes theatrically, “she asked why so many people came and why she’d never met any of them if they loved her grandpa so much.”
“Well, you can expect a bill for their therapy in a few years,” you laughed, forking more lasagna into your mouth.
Tristan made his way over to the fridge and pulled out the glass dish, helping himself to a piece when Jeff took a seat beside you. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine,” you glanced at him sideways, suspicious about any ulterior motive he might have.
“Okay, Y/N,” Jeff laughed, Tristan eyed you from over his shoulder like he didn’t believe you. “Let me try again. How are you feeling emotionally?”
You cleared your throat and swallowed the most recent bite of dinner. “Oh, you mean cause my husband left me six months ago and my dad just died and now I’m a single mom with two fiesty daughters who just inherited a giant house aaaaaand,” you drew out the word for dramatic effect. “I’m a business owner who barely gets any sleep?”
“That’s what I was getting at, yes,” Jeff nodded and fought a smirk.
“I’m alright,” you sighed. “Tired. Kind of freaked out about what the fuck is going on in my life, but, I’ll survive. I always survive."
You knew you would--in fact, you’d been waiting for this moment for the last few weeks. When Jeff’s mom called to tell you your dad needed to be put in hospice, you prepared. You talked to Maeve and CeCe and explained it all in a way they’d understand. His life on earth is over, but we can still talk to him and visit a pretty garden to remember him.
It was a lot to deal with only a few months after your high school sweetheart turned husband admitted he’d been having an affair and moved out, you saw on Facebook that he’d since bought a motorcycle and was spending most of his time at bars along the coast. That whole fiasco was harder to explain to your children.
And now suddenly everyone wanted to make sure you were okay. Frozen dinners, offers to drive your kids to and from their extracurriculars, a lot of attention was suddenly thrust onto you and your family, as if you hadn’t always hated that growing up.
But you knew the time would come when life would settle back down. Cousins and aunts and uncles would fly home, people would stop asking how you were doing post divorce. Dust would settle and the sun would set on this chapter and frankly, it couldn’t happen soon enough.
So here you were, the funeral was over, the dinner in his honor at Jeff’s parents, the media coverage was starting to die down and life could return to normal. Or, at least, a new normal.
Your dad had been a fixture in your life--weekly dinner dates with grandpa gave you a minute to yourself after working long days and answering endless phone calls. A glass of wine on the couch or even dinner with Tristan and Zoey was a nice escape from breaking up fights or figuring out how to reattach the head of a Barbie doll after someone shoved someone into a closet and tears and screaming ensued.
“You will definitely survive,” Jeff nodded.
Tristan came and sat, forked into the lasagna and made a face when he realized how bad it was. “Is this fake cheese?”
“Unfortunately,” you nodded.
Tristan made a face and then cleared his throat. “I, for one, think this is the start of a new chapter for you. New opportunities, new love,” he smirked.
A quick retort: “Yeah, that’s obviously the first priority right now.”
“He’s right, though,” Jeff said. “You have a fresh start, a totally new chapter.”
You nodded--they were right, but easing into a new chapter felt a lot better than trying to dive right in.
“Speaking of a fresh start, you know, changing things up,” Jeff forced a grin in your direction. “Can we actually talk for a second?”
You eyed him suspiciously, put your fork down to bow out from eating the world’s worst lasagna. “Yeah?”
“I have kind of a weird favor to ask. And--I know it’s kind of bad timing, with everything going on, but--just hear me out, okay?”
Instead of replying, you watched him, lifted your brows to encourage him to continue and tread carefully.
“So I have a client who isn’t from here, he bought a house but it’s in the middle of getting renovated. There’s kind of been a lot going on, it’s a long story.”
“Okay,” you nodded, unsure where he was going with it.
“He needs a place to stay, and I was wondering if maybe he could stay here for a little.”
“Here, like, here here?” You pointed to the floor of your kitchen, an elegant upgrade from the more modest house in Woodland Hills you’d occupied before the divorce.
Along with the death of your father came the inheritance of his Bel Air estate and all of the bedrooms, the four car garage, the manicured lawn and the pool out back. Some people thought you should sell it, use the cash to make trusts for the girls or save for college.
Selling it didn’t feel right, though. It was the house he worked so hard for, the house you called home for the later half of your teen years and the place you always came back to when things got hard. So instead of putting it on the market and closing that chapter, once again, you returned to the safe haven in the hills when you didn’t know where else to turn.
“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but you have the room and it might be fun to have someone else around and--”
“I have two daughters, Jeff, I can’t just let a stranger live with us.”
“He’s not a stranger, Y/N, he’s my friend. We’re really close.”
“Who is he?” Tristan asked, waving his fork in the air to remind us that he was still present.
“Harry Styles.”
Tristan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “The kid from the boyband?”
“No way,” you shook your head, dismissing it before you could even let his name register. “I’m not having a pop star boy band kid stay in my house.”
“Okay,” Jeff held up a hand to get Tristan to relax, then moved to point at you. “He’s 24, number one. He’s not a kid, he’s, like, only a few years younger than us.”
“Yes,” you nodded, “exactly. I don’t need a 24-year-old living with my daughters.”
“He’s not like that, though. He’s responsible and he’s a family friendly dude, and--”
“Then why can’t he live with you? Or with your parents?”
“I don’t have the room,” he said. “And my dad hates house guests.”
You rolled your eyes, it was obnoxious, but it was true. Irv hated having people stay over almost as much as he hated it when your dad beat him in golf.
Jeff took your silence as an opportunity to continue selling you on the idea. “He just finished his tour, he’s working on his second album. He’s probably going to be in the studio a lot, Y/N. Do you really think I would let some crazy party animal live with my nieces?”
Another eye roll from both you and Tristan.
“Is this like, just a few nights?” You asked.
“Like, two weeks. Tops.”
“Two weeks?!” You shook your head. “No--I can’t put them through that after all the shit that’s been going on this year. Why can’t he just stay in a hotel?”
“Cause that’s lonely and he’s a people person and--I don’t know, it might be good for you to have someone around.”
You rolled your eyes that, was it a jab at your new status as a single mom or new status as a fatherless daughter? Unsure.
Jeff stood from the counter and grabbed for his phone on the far end of the island. “Just think about it, okay? I’ve gotta run. A few weeks, built in babysitting, maybe--he’s great with kids.”
“I’ve already thought about it,” you told him, resting your chin in your hand and offering a sugary sweet smile. “No fucking way.”
“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice called from upstairs, you hoisted yourself up, ready to tuck them in and forget that Jeff had ever asked such a ludicrous question.
“I would owe you big time--it might be fun! You’ve got the room, he could be a positive male influence on the girls.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the end of his sentence--like that would really sway you.
“And I’m not that?” Tristan pulled his head back, offended.
“You’re the one who told them funerals are stupid,” Jeff said with a sarcastic smirk.
“And you’re the crazy one trying to let a stranger move in here like it’s an AirBnB,” you shot back at Jeff. “So maybe they do need a better male influence than both of you.”
“Mommy!” CeCe called again, more impatient this time.
“I’m coming!” You shouted. “You, let yourself out when you’re finished eating this terrible meal,” you pointed at Tristan and the lasagna. “And you,” you pointed at Jeff with a smirk. “Please never speak to me again.”
He was already heading for the door, keys in hand when he blew you a kiss. “Love you, see you soon!”
“Love you,” you called back, bounding up the stairs, mom mode activated.
**
A text message the next day when you were at work:
Jeff Azoff (1:43pm): 🙏😇🙏😇
You blew air from your lips, Zoey sat across from you at a conference table when you took a late lunch. She was the first friend you made when you started high school, your long time confidant aside from Tristan and Jeff and a sure bet to tell it like it is.
Now she regularly popped into the Luna offices and she loved nothing more than acting like she was a higher up at your business. She’d rather be doing that than admit she was a new mom with no clue what the next chapter of her life would look like. You had that in common.
Her two-month-old son, Benny, sat in a carrier on the ground, his eyelashes fluttered when Zoey put her feet up on the chair beside her.
“What’s the sigh for?”
“Jeff is being annoying.”
“What’d he do now?”
You looked over at her, nose deep in her phone when you took another bite of the burrito bowl she’d picked up for you. You didn’t know if it was worth it to explain it all. Zoey was excitable, never one to turn down an adventure and her aptly timed identity crisis that came with becoming a mom was sure to make her encourage bad decisions even more.
She looked up at you, suddenly aware of the wheels spinning in your mind.
“Spill it,” she instructed. She put her phone down and let out a breath, clasped her hands and waited for you to fill her in.
“He asked me to let a friend of his stay with us in my dad’s house.”
“Your house,” she corrected. “Deed’s in your name now.”
“My house,” you nodded. “And I feel weird about it.”
“Who’s the friend?”
“Some client of his,” you tried to wave it off as if the name didn’t matter.
It didn’t, really. You’d long been exposed to the rich and famous just because of the nature of your father’s work. He was one of the biggest managers in the music industry in partnership with Jeff’s dad, so you were no stranger to beautiful people with beautiful cars and beautiful homes. When Jeff took on the family business, you only grew more accustomed to it.
“So a celebrity?” she shimmied her shoulders in excitement. “Which one?”
“Harry Styles,” you said the name slowly, quietly, even though it was just the two of you in the second floor conference room and even though this was your office that you bought and you owned and you ran.
“He’s hot,” she nodded casually, less impressed than you’d expected.
“He’s also like twenty-something, so it's disgusting for you to say that.”
“Oh relax,” she dismissed your concern. “He could be your pool boy.”
Zoey--who also grew up in Southern California and spent plenty of time at your house as a kid--hadn’t yet grown so accustomed to the coming and going of celebrities. Her parents owned a florist shop in Santa Monica and in high school you had to tell her she could only come to a Britney Spears concert if she didn’t cry when you inevitably met her in the green room thanks to your dad.
“I have children,” you reminded her. “A ten-year-old who might as well be fifteen and a six-year-old who would think I literally bought her a human playmate.”
“But if he’s friends with Jeff I highly doubt he’s a serial killer,” she reasoned.
“Wow, you are completely missing the point.”
“What’s the point, then?”
“It’s weird--I can’t have a stranger move in with my kids.”
“Why not?”
“Because first their dad left us and now their grandpa died.”
“Sounds like they need a new man in their life.”
You ignored the similarity of her words with Jeff’s from the other night. “I just think it’s crazy.”
“Okay,” she sat up straight and suddenly looked like this was morphing into a business conversation. “How long?”
“Two weeks.”
“Oh my god,” she turned her palms towards the sky. “Just do it.”
“What? No!”
“It’s two weeks--it’ll take your mind off of all the shit that’s been going on, it’ll be a fun distraction for the girls. You have so much space in that house you will never even know he’s there. And you’re helping a friend.”
She wasn’t wrong: Harry could likely stay in the bedroom all the way on the other end of the hall from where the girls slept. Maeve was thrilled to get her own room in the move and CeCe would occasionally run into your room after a nightmare, so the space was a plus.
He’d have his own room, his own bathroom. Hell, he could even park in the extra garage and enter from the back of the house. Maybe you wouldn’t even notice he existed.
You sighed, tugged at your necklace when you met her gaze. “I just feel really protective over them right now. I feel like Luke ruined their sense of family and now with my dad gone--”
She stuck her tongue out in disgust at the sound of your ex’s name. “I get that--but they have you. They have Jeff and his family and they have me and Shawn and now Benny.”
You offered a small smile at her reassurance. She was right in a lot of ways. The Azoffs were as much a family to your daughters as they had been to you. Shelli and Irv were like grandparents, they offered to babysit plenty of times and they always managed to get the girls the most amazing birthday presents.
But something in you knew it wasn’t the same. You’d dreamed of giving your daughters the sense of family you never had: a mom and a dad who loved each other. One house, not two that had two different beds and sets of books or toys.
Luckily and unluckily, your ex hadn’t made a huge deal about custody. Visits here and there were outlined in your divorce papers, but at this point in time he didn’t seem the most interested in maintaining a relationship with his daughters, even though he promised way back when that he’d never leave.
Getting pregnant with him during college wasn’t planned, but he swore you’d make it work and you tied the knot only a few months before Maeve was born. Things were good at first, you always knew you’d have more than one--if only to combat your own only-child loneliness--and then CeCe came five years later when you felt a little more prepared.
“I don’t think it’s going to traumatize them, Y/N. I mean, the least you could do is meet the guy.”
You watched her for a minute, blew air from your nose in a huff before you picked up your phone.
Y/N L/N (1:56pm): Fine. I’ll meet him.
Three days later you pulled up to a cafe in Brentwood and took a deep breath in the parking lot. If he was creepy, you wouldn’t go for it. If you got even the slightest weird vibe from him, you’d ex-communicate Jeff and only go over to visit his parents with the girls when he wasn’t around.
You’d already been leaning towards just doing it, especially once Tristan got a glass of wine in you and reminded you what your dad would have said: he who helps is one who prospers.
A few sleepless nights left you staring at the ceiling and wondering if you were crazy. You just now had the chance to let life settle down and here you were, mourning the loss of your biggest supporter, trying to piece yourself back together post divorce, and considering letting a stranger move in? Grief really did do strange things to people.
But when you walked in and found them sitting at a table in the back, something clicked.
Your dad was already fond of your possible houseguest, which you only knew from overhearing previous conversations between him and Irv about how proud they were of Jeff for picking up the family business, and now it all made sense.
A small part of you--probably the stupidest part of you--wondered if there was something cosmic about it. Your dad was always one to let his artists stay in the house, if they weren’t creepy, of course. You grew up with bands rehearsing in the backyard and going to shows at the Troubadour before you were old enough to drive, and you turned out fine.
“Hi,” Harry stood, offered a hand and introduced himself after Jeff gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Harry, pleasure to meet you.” Polite, maybe a bit of a kiss ass. Your dad must have loved him.
“Y/N,” you nodded, sat down when Jeff tugged out a chair for you. “Thanks for--uh--meeting with me, I guess.”
“Thanks for maybe letting me stay at your house,” he offered a sheepish smile, held your gaze for a second when Jeff adjusted the sunglasses clipped to his shirt.
“I’m actually surprised you guys haven’t met before,” he said.
“I’ve been a little busy this year,” you reminded him with a nod. “But--nice to finally meet you.”
Harry nodded, a dimple in his left cheek ignited a tiny spark in your chest, but you pushed Zoey’s words out of your mind. Two weeks, it wasn’t a big deal. He’d be in and out and this would be a blip on the radar.
“We can order coffee or something, but Y/N, I’m assuming you have like, a whole interrogation mapped out?”
You pretended to laugh at Jeff’s joke, turned to Harry and offered a no-nonsense smile. “I have two children, I got divorced earlier this year and my dad just died. So I don’t need any drama or anything. This is temporary and I’m doing this to help out a friend. Jeff, that is, not you.”
He laughed at your clarification and nodded. “Right. This is just me living in your house. No drama. Short-term.”
“And obviously my children will be there, so no guests.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Okay I’m not that much older than you,” you said it quickly, offered a small smile when he looked a little scared.
“Sorry--no, I didn’t mean that in a rude way.”
“No ma’am,” you added a rule, pulling a laugh from both of them when you lifted another finger in the air to count them off. “No drugs or alcohol, unless it’s like a glass of wine at dinner or something,” you shrugged.
“Look,” Jeff leaned forward. “Y/N’s kids are great, she’s got a great skincare company and she’s a kickass human. And you need a place to stay, so don’t fuck this up.”
“You both have my word. No drugs, no alcohol, no guests, no ma’am,” he smirked in your direction. “I’ve lived alone for a while, so, it’ll be nice to have some roommates.”
You nodded slowly and watched him for a second. A hoodie with the name of the management firm your dad and Irv had started, a backwards baseball hat and simple Ray-Bans. You ignored the fluttering in your veins from just looking at him, your own words echoed against the walls of your skull: he’s also like twenty-something, so that’s disgusting.
This was his brand, you were sure. Something Jeff had worked hard on--the looks, the smile, the exact formula that management firms drooled over was playing out in front of you. You sipped your drink once the waiter delivered three cappuccinos. Two weeks, tops.
**
Los Angeles afternoons were meant for playing outside, which is what your daughters did best if they weren’t busy pulling each other’s hair. You had dinner on the stove--enough for five--and a knot of nerves in your stomach when the wheels of his fancy car crunched atop the gravel.
The girls ran to greet him and Jeff showed him around the house. Now, Harry sat across from you at the table, Maeve to his left with an unimpressed look on her face when you cleared your throat. “Okay, gratitude time.”
Jeff set his fork back down, a guilty look on his face to admit he’d forgotten about your pre-dinner ritual.
CeCe squirmed in her seat, let out a sigh when Maeve protested with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I don’t have anything to be thankful for,” she informed you.
“That feels a little hard to believe,” you nodded, losing patience for her attitude over the last few days. “CeCe, do you want to go?”
Your younger daughter looked up at you, scrunched her mouth and thought about it. “I don’t have anything either.”
You tried not to groan aloud. After the week you’d had and the sudden changes in your life, disciplining your daughters felt like the last thing you wanted to do, if only they’d just behave.
“I can go,” Harry lifted his hand sheepishly as if he was sitting in a classroom and not in your dining room, a dimple on his cheek when he smiled sheepishly.
“Take it away,” you motioned towards him.
“M’thankful for being here, having a place to stay--and what looks like it will be a delicious meal.” By now he had a bit of smug look on his face, maybe proud of the fact that he’d broken the ice and stepped up to the pre-dinner prompt.
“Mom’s cooking is a solid six out of ten on a good day,” Maeve looked over at him, her fork now in her hand as if she was ready to dig in.
“Okay,” you leaned in and caught her gaze. “Drop the attitude or go to your room.”
“I’m thankful for Emma,” she named her friend, her quick submission after she rolled her eyes told you she just wanted to eat and get this over with. “She warned me today that Hayley was wearing a shirt I wore last week so I think she’s copying me.”
“Okay,” you nodded, you’d accept anything at this point. “CeCe? Last chance.”
“I’m grateful for pudding.”
Harry let out a quiet laugh, you nodded and said: “Great. I’m thankful for you two,” you smiled at them, hopeful that this nightly tradition would hold some type of meaning, more than just eye rolls and pre-pubescent angst from Maeve.
Jeff looked over at the girls, “I’m thankful for my friend Harry getting to meet my other friends, CeCe and Maeve.”
“Aww,” Harry smiled, a hand clutched to his heart when he looked between them.
“Alright,” you were annoyed by how good your daughters were at turning on their charm for anyone but you. Jeff was often the fun uncle, just like your ex had been the fun dad, which left you forcing them to play this gratitude game every night after they finished their homework.
CeCe wasted no time digging into the spaghetti on her plate, leaving Jeff to ask Maeve: “so what are you going to do about Hayley?”
“I don’t know,” Maeve sighed. “She’ll die when she finds out that you’re sleeping over,” she pointed her fork at Harry.
“He’s not sleeping over,” you corrected. “He’s staying in one of the guest rooms, remember?” You’d already explained it a few times to them. A few weeks, he’s working on more music, he’ll be busy, he’s not here to play with you.
“Whatever,” Maeve said. “Maybe I’ll hold it over her.”
“Maeve,” you looked over, unsure what had gotten into her. “I thought we talked about this stuff with Hayley?”
“I know--but she just keeps annoying me,” Maeve explained.
“Dump pasta on her head,” CeCe suggested with a giggle.
“Don’t do that,” you looked at CeCe and poked her in the stomach.
“I personally am a big fan of that idea,” Jeff smiled over at CeCe. “But it’d probably be better to just forget about it. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”
“Or the sincerest form of annoying,” she retorted.
Harry let out a laugh at that, caught your gaze when you wondered how soon it’d take him to get annoyed with your kids.
They were great--smart, funny, clever, definitely witty and sometimes dramatic. But they were good kids.
You remembered how tough it was to adapt to motherhood, even though they were your own. Something told you that Harry, no matter how short his stay would be, was not in the chapter of his life that entailed finding joy in playdates and pillow fights.
But he made it through dinner, quiet but friendly and as soon as Maeve was finished, she begged him to play squishball outside before sunset.
“Squishball?” his eyebrows dipped together. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s basically just baseball but with a softer bat and a foam ball cause mom doesn’t want us to break our skulls,” Maeve informed.
“I never said break your skulls,” you argued.
“But it’s what you meant,” she shrugged.
“I would love to play,” Harry laughed, unbelievably entertained by the back and forth he’d already witnessed. They yanked him outside and set up their tiny diamond, CeCe pulled on a tutu just for flair and you and Jeff were left to handle the aftermath of a family dinner.
Jeff put the final plate into the dishwasher after a little bit and offered a hesitant smile when he turned around. “So?”
“So what? It’s been like an hour and a half of him being here.”
Their laughter from outside was audible, CeCe shrieked when Maeve made contact with the bat and sent the ball soaring into the air. “The girls clearly love him.”
“Of course they do--they love anyone for the first two hours.”
“I think he’ll be good for you guys.”
You rolled your eyes, wiped the counter with the sponge when he continued.
“And you guys will be good for him.”
This got your attention. “How so?”
“He’s a people-person, never likes being on his own too much. Some structure and responsibility is good for him.”
“So I’m babysitting him?”
“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Relax, will you? This could be a mutually beneficial thing if you let it, that’s all I’m saying.”
You didn’t read too much into it, you figured Jeff was peppering you with reassurance only to calm your nerves or quell your concerns. When he was finished helping you clean, he hugged the girls goodbye and waved over his shoulder, leaving Harry alone in your house with you and your daughters and nothing but good intentions.
You left him downstairs at first, helped CeCe brush her hair and sat on the floor when Maeve picked out her clothes for the next day: hopefully Hayley doesn’t own this dress.
When you headed back downstairs an hour later, the girls were tucked in, the lights were off, and your usual plan would have been to check your work emails if it weren’t for the dimpled guy in your living room.
He stood at the bookcase, hands clasped behind his back when you found him.
“Hi, sorry--bedtime is always a--” you paused, not even knowing the right label. “A shit show. But thanks for playing with them earlier.”
He laughed, turned around and offered a smile. “No worries--they seem like great kids.”
“They are,” you assured. “Maeve’s been a bit snarky lately but I think that’s just the whole beginning of puberty thing.” You cringed a little when the words left your mouth, wondering if it was too much information for someone who likely had cooler things to do than talk about ten-year-olds and training bras.
But he smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets when you said: let me show you around.
He’d arrived at the worst time. Homework, dinner prep, CeCe crying because Maeve finished her homework first. You didn’t have the chance to give him a tour and you figured it would be better coming from you than from Jeff, that way you could remind him of all the rules.
You showed him the ground floor first. The library, the family room, the two offices and the three different remotes that all worked different TVs or speakers or lamps. He marveled at the pictures on the wall in your dad’s old office space, he was a legend, he told you.
He climbed the stairs behind you and whispered in response when you pointed out what was behind each door. Bathroom, Maeve’s room, CeCe’s room, guest room, another bathroom, master suite, guest room, his room.
You pushed the door open and stepped aside to let him in. Gray walls, a wooden four-post king-sized bed. Throw pillows you’d picked out when you moved in a few weeks ago, a dresser to the left. He looked around and nodded. “S’perfect.”
“Good,” you said, walking over to a small linen closet in his attached bath. “Towels are in here, should be soap and stuff in the shower--had our housekeeper stock it.”
“Thanks,” he nodded again.
“I don’t know where you parked, but there’s a garage in the back that my dad used to keep some of his sports cars in--there’s definitely room and that way you don’t have to leave yours out if it rains.”
Were you talking too much? You just wanted him to feel at home or at least welcomed.
“Amazing,” he said. “Thank you.”
A repetitive answer but it didn't stop you from rambling.
“Keurig’s on the counter--creamer in the fridge. Should be plenty of food but obviously feel free to stock what you like. Except like, weed.”
“Weed doesn’t go in the fridge...” he eyed you suspiciously, the same dimple appeared on his cheek and you rolled your eyes.
“I know--I know weed doesn’t go in the fridge.”
“Just the no drug policy,” he nodded.
“Right. Am I forgetting anything?”
He shifted his weight on his feet and shrugged his shoulders, a subtle shake of his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay,” you nodded, one final look around the room to make sure he had what he needed. His duffle bag was already in the corner, you’d told Jeff to put it upstairs and out of the way so CeCe and Maeve didn’t get nosy.
“I just have a question actually, if that’s alright.”
“Yeah?”
“When did you move in here?”
“Uh, beginning of August, so like, almost a month ago.”
He nodded, his eyes curious despite the fact that he didn’t ask more.
“We had to put my dad in hospice, I was looking for a place anyway after,” a quick motion over your shoulder to gesture to the girls. “My divorce, so--a lot of change, but it’s been nice to be home.”
He nodded thoughtfully, the quiet of the bedroom suddenly felt heavy. “S’a beautiful house.”
“Thank you,” you looked around the room again, if only to put your eyes somewhere other than his face. “I felt shitty about redecorating it at first, but--it was a little too much of a 70s bachelor pad.”
“Leave it to Walt,” he joked.
That piqued your interest. “Did you know my dad? Like, did you spend any time with him?”
He pushed his lips out in thought but shook his head when he sat down on the bed. “Not really--met him a few times at events with Jeff, but I never spent any quality time with him.”
You nodded--he was a busy guy, popular and well respected in his industry. “He was a good person, good grandfather, too.”
Harry smiled at that. “Always heard that Irv was the balls but your dad was the heart.”
You laughed, scrunched your nose at the saying you’d heard a hundred times. The two of them were partners in crime, two peas in a pod, yet they couldn’t be more different. He spoke again before you could reply, voice soft in the sleepy house.
“I mean, if you're his daughter he obviously did something right.”
He held your gaze just long enough for you to feel something, something you pushed out of your mind so quickly that your hand was on the door knob before he could even say goodnight.
Two weeks, tops.
story page | talk to me + join the tag list
tag list: @sunflowerryvol6 @trulymadlykiki @kaybee87 @thurhomish @tpwkhoney @70s-harry @la-cey @sing-me-a-song-harry @morethanamelodyy @theresnooneheretosave @ihearthemcallingforyou @sunfloweratheart @g0bl1nqueen @millennial-teenybopper @rainbowparadiseharry @justsaying20 @andwhenshesays @harryinsweatersandbandanas @harrys-cherriesss @harrys-cherrry @cronias13 @burberryharold @15christyxoxo @dayxoxodreamer @stepping-into-the-light @mvaldez7821 @barnestann @styles217 @fineelineee @ursamajor603 @tayrenea @hayyyayy @mellamolayla @lovelylemonadeaddict @harrystyle-ish @harryspirate @apples2019 @goldeng1rl8 @rainbowbutterflyboy
#tmf#that makes four#harry styles story#harry styles fiction#harry styles writing#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles au#harry styles ou#harry styles x reader#harry styles x ofc#harry styles reader insert#harry styles x yn#harry styles x Y/N#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles friends to lovers#dad!Harry#stepdad!Harry#dad!h#stepdad!h
520 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
the-marvels-filmul-romana-hd
The Marvels (2023) Filmul Online Subtitrat în Română HD
trojan-remover-crack-ml
👑 Loaris Trojan Remover Crack Fully Keygen All here
dohyoniee
Giant Baby Dohyon, the Cutest and Coolest Hamster
herosmash
BNHA sideblog (CLOSED)
boigrlking
Freaky Funky Fruit