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#and I’m gonna set up my telescope fuck it
wifelinkmtg · 8 months
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Yeah alright let’s talk Tarkir
Getting this out of the way: I do not care about Alesha, so if you were coming here ready to hear anything about the first-ever transgender girl out of Magic*, sorry to disappoint.
Actually, yeah, I’m gonna talk about this for a little bit. I understand Alesha means a lot to some people, and I’m not saying they’re wrong to feel that way. I’m sure there are people who had to fight to make Alesha openly & canonically trans, and I’m not saying that this was meaningless, wasted effort. It’s nice to be able to point to someone and say, see, there’s a place for people like me here. I was excited about it at the time and I wasn’t even into Magic back then.
But like c’mon, y’all, she’s not really a character, right? She gets one story, the thrust of which is, “this character is trans, and that’s basically fine.” Alesha exists to be part of the banner image of the internal WotC LGBT employees’ monthly newsletter. She exists to be the discord avatar for every third trans girl into Magic. She exists so a massive corporation can point to her as evidence that they care in some nebulous way about trans people, and she costs slightly less than paying someone to, say, actually moderate the hate speech comments on their vids of Autumn Burchett’s pro tour games.
All of which is to say, they don’t actually care. You know this. Individual staff, writers, artists - sure, but they’re not the ones who make the final decisions. And you and I deserve better from our stories, and we’re never going to get that from fucking Hasbro, right?
So here’s my pitch: seek out actual queer stories, and I’m not talking about contemporary YA shit with a marketing budget. For readers of this specific blog I’d recommend looking up “Attack Helicopter” by Isabel Fall (you should still be able to find it online). Stories where the texture and structure of thought are queer and trans are revelatory. You don’t need to beg for crumbs from a megacorp’s table.
ANYWAY, COMMA,
welcome to Tarkir! There used to not be dragons here, but now there are. In either timeline, everyone is locked in a brutal, unending struggle of clan-against-clan, so thanks, Sarkhan? Yeah, no, I hear you, it’s definitely different now. Yeah, and better. Yeah, because of the...yeah, because there’s dragons now, right. No, you did great, buddy. You really, uh, made a difference.
JESUS, IS HE CRYING? GET ME OUT OF HERE PLEASE
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Monastery Swiftspear (art by Steve Argyle)
I’ve come to think of the current era of MtG art (let’s arbitrarily say from Kaladesh block to the present) as the “Magali Villeneuve era”, and if I’m being totally honest, I kind of hate it. Everything is technically competent, clearly lit, and immaculately detailed. Everyone has amazing cheekbones. It is so, so boring. I’m not at all saying she’s a bad artist! Sometimes, as with Kaldheim, she is very nearly the only person in a set making good art. I’ve featured her work on here many, many times.
What I am saying is that her work always has this, like, objectivity to it that feels detached and even alienating, like we’re looking at these characters through a powerful telescope. There’s no stylization, and dare I say no style.
The reason I bring her up in a set in which I will not be reviewing her work (sorry, Narset fans), is that Steve Argyle makes for an interesting comparison. They are to my untrained eye very similar artists: the sharp linework, the combination of dynamics and detachment. The major difference is that Steve’s art is substantially hornier and substantially male-gazier.
And goddammit, at least that’s something.
I HAVE THIS OPINION BECAUSE I’M A BAD FEMINIST. AND I DESERVE TO BE PUNISHED ABOUT IT
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Unyielding Krumar (art by Viktor Titov)
I’m not sure why Viktor made this orc look like a ripped lizard man. None of the other orcs in this block look like this. Maybe he thought “krumar” was a species of lizard folk, when in point of fact a krumar is, checks notes, an orphan of the Mardu raised by the Abzan who killed their parents in a twist of worldbuilding regrettably reminiscent of a strategy used in real-world genocides. Whoops!
Anyway, big arms. Lizard person. Sorry about your family.
WIZARDS STAY CLASSY I GUESS
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Ire Shaman (art by Jack Wang)
Yeah, see, extremely not a lizard.
We’re not going to talk about armor practicality because that is very much beside the point, but we were all thinking it, and I want to acknowledge that before moving onto saying nice things about what all the leather bands are doing for her arms, and what this lamellar bustier is doing for her tits.
YEAH I KNOW WHAT LAMELLAR IS. PRETTY HOT, RIGHT
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Den Protector (art by Viktor Titov)
I am not immune to mothers, nor women in furs, and I’m especially not immune to women with big two-handed weapons (in either sense, I suppose.) I really like the sense of motion in this picture, and the dynamic thrust of the landscape behind her, and... hm. Is her right-hand grip reversed from what it should be? Dammit, that’s going to bother me.
I LIKE MY WOMEN TO HAVE BETTER GRIP TECHNIQUE IS ALL I’M SAYING
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Wandering Champion (art by Willian Murai)
I am trying really, really hard not to date myself by a reference to a shitty 20-year-old flash animation. Anyway! she has flexibility, power, and isn’t afraid of a little viscera now and again. All excellent qualities.
I AM HONESTLY EXERCISING IMMENSE SELF-RESTRAINT HERE
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Sultai Flayer (art by Izzy)
Sorry, do you not want a forty-foot androgyne snake person to remove your skin with tender, agonizing slowness? Are you lost?
WHY DON’T YOU MARRY YOUR SKIN IF YOU’RE SO GODDAMN ATTACHED TO IT. PUSSY.
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Highspire Mantis (art by Igor Kieryluk)
I did the mantis bit in my Battle for Zendikar post, but I thought I’d actually dig into what the appeal is here: raptorial forelimbs. The inescapable, serrated hold of something that could slice you open as easy as thinking, but hasn’t yet. The smoothness of chitin, hard without being inflexible. The many strange articulations. And then either you make out or it eats your head, and it is not up to you which.
WHEN WILL WIZARDS GIVE US THE MANTIS-FUCKER REPRESENTATION WE DESERVE. ROSEWATER’S SILENCE ON THIS ISSUE IS DEAFENING.
Alright, that’s Tarkir down! Who knows what’s next? Probably a very cranky explanation of what fiction is and why it’s okay to like fictional bad guys (it’s because they’re not real.) At first I thought that was going to be a more interesting topic, but the more I think about it the more it seems like it’s...really not. I can have fun with it, though! Thanks for reading, and I’ll see y’all next time.
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*the first-ever transgender girl out of Magic/had to settle on a name/and the top three contenders after weeks of debate/were Alesha/and Shensu/and the Kolaghan Bomber
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i-am-hoo-iyam · 1 year
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Donuts
@mega-punani
Blues stomach growled. They had just set sail from a village, and bear had bought a lot of fresh food. It was the perfect time for a midnight kitchen snack. Navy, who has super senses, woke up too. Th ey both snuck out of their room. Blue whispered “ok step exactly where I do or the floor will squeak”. Navy followed blues footsteps exactly and the floor stayed quiet. Blue opened the cupboard. There was a dozen donuts sitting there, that bear had gotten as a treat for the crew for breakfast tomorrow. Babies eyes got wide and blues got wider. His pupils turned into big blue beautiful stars. He shut his eyes tight cuz they were lighting up the whole room and he didn’t wanna get caught.
He opened his eyes and they were normal. He took thte box down quietly and handed navy a donut witch navy gobbled up. “Oh my god a donut is even sweeter with super senses”. Blue was too busy eating donuts to reply.
Navy looked nervous. “Blue… you just ate the whole box didn’t you”. “Nah. You had one too remember! Gosh I wish I had more”. “But even if you don’t get sick, witch I’m pretty sure you will, bears gonna notice you are all the donuts”. “Shit your right… don’t worry I do woodworking as a hobby sometimes and I’ve carved food just so I can raid the kitchen without being noticed”. “Yeahhhhh the crew would totally eat wooden loops and not notice a thing…” “maybe bear would forget he got donuts and nobody will notice!” “Dude are you ok your green”. “Yeah uh I’m fine… I’m fine why” blue didn’t look fine.
“I’m gonna go get bear…” “no please don’t why would you urp do that?” “Because your the same shade as that parrot I once saw”. “Nooooo” blue was too full of donuts to stop him but he reached out fruitlessly. Navy came back in s minute with bear. Bear looked unamused and tired. He picked up blue and carried him up to the deck, and held him over the railing as he got sick. “Im too tired or else I would be using your head as a soccer ball right now. I hope you learned your lesson” blue was crying. “Yeah you definitely learned your lesson”.
Blue cling to bear and cries into his shoulder. Navy looked very concerned. Bear sighed. “Yer both the stupidest idiots I’ve ever met”. “Me? But I only had one-I mean I didn’t even touch the donuts”. “Yeah but you diddnt stop him cuz your too shy and anxious.” “…”. Best carried blue to bears bad and went back to bed.
The next morning blue had some tea with bear to feel better. “Hey is there something pinned to the back of my hoodie?” Sans got up to read it. In bears handwriting it said “I ate all the donuts and got sick. so now we can’t have any.” YOU WHAT? I was looking forward to a donut all last night you fucking idiot!” “Hey now no need to be mean”. “Why are you defendin’ the idiot, cash? Stay out of this”. “But your making him cry and I would’ve done the same thing”. ���Witch is why we didn’t tell you or blue about them… but blue fucking ruined it anyways” cash punched sans in the arm and picked up blue and went to his room and closed and locked the door.
“Are you ok? The one thing I hate more than loosing money is loosing money, with bullying the crewmates a close second”. “But Snf I deserved it…” “nah. You getting thst stomach ache was already punishment enough. Hey look what’s this under my bed?” Cash reached down and pulled a really fancy hand held telescope from a box of shinies. “Wanna go look at the clouds together?” “Yeah! Snf and we can look for other flags of ships too!” “And then we can sink their ships and loot their treasures!” “Ok but only if their mean…”
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ziracona · 2 months
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Played Aways Sometimes Monsters. As is tradition, was telling my closest work friend the story when we had downtime at work. There’s three of us in the room, her, me, and the youngest staff member.
Anyway, I go through the whole thing—I got a book deal, but it comes and it’s only for me not my writing partner and me, so I cut him out like a scumbag. But I can’t deliver. I end up being dumped by my boyfriend, and can’t make rent, end up on the street for a night. I deserve this. Then my ex, the mothetfucker, less than a /year/ after our breakup, sends me an invite /to his WEDDING/. Like BRO?!? I mean you’re free but to /invite me/??? Like. Anyway, it’s also at my favorite venue ever? Insult to injury.
I’m like fuck it. I’m gonna go. This is some weird game to him? I’ll play.
I have to get money for a bus ticket though. Friend running a rock show is letting me roadie. His junky gf shows up, trying to give him heroine but he’s trying to go clean, so I flush it. She ends up in the hospital bc he breaks up with her though and then we’re scrambling to try and get this classist addict hating doctor to save her. We end up finding photos of him doing some shit and blackmail. Girl is okay, I pay for their rehab. I barely save enough to get my apartment back, have nothing for a ticket now though. My publisher check comes, and it’s for like 250 bc I am a fuckup who didn’t write the book. Call my publisher to cry about my ex and he’s like “okay I’m a sucker for drama” bc he’s the Regina George of everyone’s secrets and decides to help me get a gig to find the ticket. I break a case doing temp work for the news helping some people keep their apartments, and then make friends with this suicidal ex ad agency guy so I actually get a ride to the next few towns over—looking up, right? — okay but like. Shit just keep happening—oh and it’s worse right? My ex? When we were in college and best friends, Sam my writing partner, we were like “bro as long as we’re together it’ll be okay” like I’m the /worst/. He asked me to wingman a guy and I was like sure bro and I tried but the guy said he didn’t like Sam and liked me, and I passed bc bros before hoes, but he keeps coming back and I get stuck helping him set up a telescope during an asteroid shower and he kisses me and I don’t know at the time but Sam sees so yeah? The ex? It’s Sam’s crush. Like /literally/ what is wrong with me.
—anyway, I go through the story in this manner clear to ‘so the wedding invitation? Marcel - the ex - goes ‘I didn’t send it’ and Sam steps in and is like ‘I did!’ THATS WHO HES MARYING. And like I deserve it but damn. Anyway he’s got a book deal now with MY publisher Larry, a way better one, and is marrying my ex, and Sam is like “I couldn’t get married without my best friend ^u^” and I can’t tell if he’s fucking with me or God’s most oblivious man but I’m like ‘fair either way’ so I help him pick a suit for the wedding and we go to his bachelor party in Vegas. Right. Last day, my publisher is like ‘you know how I asked for the journal you keep bc I need /a/ book and I’m gonna make something out of it even if it sucks? We on?’ and I’m like ‘all yours bro.’ It’s my last shot at a career. End of day he gets it. and I’ve written a lot so fingers crossed. But anyway I can’t find Sam and I was blackout drunk last night but I’m up 600 so I hit blackjack *pause to explain to coworker how to play blackjack* go back to my room after some real once in a lifetime king shit wins, and Sam is tearing it apart and I’m like bro?! And he’s like “where is your journal!” And I’m like? And this guard comes in with a gun and we get taken to the back and apparently my boy got so black out drunk last night that he stumbled into the high stakes room and lost 10 thousand dollars and he’s like “please please I need your journal my advance from Larry is 10k and if I turn it in as my work, he gives it to me, and I give the Casino their cash, instead of getting shot” and I’m like I’m “THEY SHOOT CASINO THIEVES?” anyway like it would ruin my career to bail on Larry again but I’d do it for Sam, but I was /killing/ it in blackjack just now so I’m like ‘actually I’ll just pay’ bc I just won 30 grand in blackjack-‘
And the kid coworker gasps SO loud and I realize only here that everything I’ve said, me being as she knows, also a writer, is just /barely/ plausible enough that she, having missed the ‘so there’s this game’ part of the convo, thinks that I am both god’s worst scumbag friend who just came into 30k in Vegas, and that she has been party to the most scalding tea of her entire life the last hour
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yaya-imposition · 8 months
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Nirvana
after reaching NIrvana, I realized all is a cycle. Good and bad are both two sides to the same coin, and it’s arbitrary which one happens to you (not that you can enforce the philosophy of pain on others) and this reconciled with my history of traumatic torture. My body is covered head to toe in mental scars. I was tortured by demons for ten years. They always did it just out of sight of other people so that they never got caught. It was around the clock brutal gritty torture. Once I established myself financially, it all came grinding to a halt, because they realized I had won, and they were only helping me more.
My reward is having my eyes opened. I feel 90% healed now, because I realized I had the game checkmated from the start. I was allowing it to happen. I never told anyone so I could bear the burden alone, partially due to spite and partially due to strength.
I used to wonder what it would be like in the holocaust. My thought was always “they’re lucky. Their pain is on the outside, and everybody knows about it. I’m all alone, and I’m being tortured equally as much, clearly. Maybe more.” I understand the implications, and I don’t say this lightly. I used to not even be able to lift my eyes upon any metal object without being tortured and traumatically abused because of it.
“FUCK ASS BITCH. SPOON BITCH IN YOUR MOUTH. YESSSSS. SPOON BITCH! SPOON BITCH! IM IN YOUR MOUTH, (convulsions) IN YOUR POOP EYES TOO, BLEEDING IN BETWEEN. YOU LIKE SHIT? (convulsions) YESSSS! SPOON BITCH! (*nasty gnashing sounds*, convulsions) THATS YOU. LIKE THIS. (*nasty gnashing sounds*) SPOON BITCH IN YOUR...” it was like this 24/7. Every day felt like 1000 years. This is an example of daring to lift my eyes upon a spoon for about 15 seconds, while I wonder if it truly could be as bad as it is. It all stopped cold turkey after my awakening and financial establishment. I guess that proves it wasn’t just me. Meds also never did shit. They kept raising my dosage until it couldn’t be any more, and even then I realized I had to just lie and say it’s better since nothing was working.
I lived on instinct alone. After Nirvana, I felt my prime instinct sway across the universe like a telescope. This realization ended up breaking me. If my prime instinct is arbitrary, then I can set it upon anything and move in that direction. So nothing matters. I have no higher way of guiding myself. All goals are arbitrary in light of this. There is no “main quest” in life. There’s only side quests. I only was able to break out of Nirvana by realizing I can fuck shit up and I don’t prefer that. All feelings about words are hallucinations, too. We place so much trust on how we think things sound, but it’s all arbitrary. It is all just a reflection of your true desires. We vainly keep our desires close to our heart so they can poison reality with our preferred taste. After Nirvana, I basically had none other than my desire to not be in a cage. I died 1000 ego deaths, but my hatred of cages never left me. Finally, I’m starting to realize all cages are just in your mind.
Why did the torture happen? I think God was making an investment. Now I’m gonna fuck shit up.
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Duck, Duck, Grief
The newly reopened wound on Aubrey’s thigh throbs dully as she limps away from the base of the ruined Mt. Kepler and back towards the gate.  She hears a voice in the back of her mind, the sensible one that sounds a lot like Duck, telling her that walking on an injured leg is a bad idea and that she’s only gonna make it worse.  A louder, more vicious voice tells her she deserves it.  This one doesn’t sound like Duck.  She ignores them both and keeps walking.  The night air is cold, numbing her exposed arms and face.  Aubrey is grateful for it.  Having a body feels like an impossible task right now.  Thinking is out of the question, because thinking means acknowledging everything that just happened- 
(gone all gone all gone he’s gone he’s gone it’s all your fault why couldn’t you heal him useless you didn’t even try you told him to leave he was supposed to leave now he’s gone it’s your fault)
-and she wasn’t ready.  Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and her ears were buzzing and it was too cold and she couldn’t breathe-
(he’s on the ground his eyes are open he doesn’t see you he isn’t breathing why isn’t he breathing his hands are cold he is never cold he is always warm warm warm warm smile warm laugh cold)
“Miss, are you okay?  Can you hear me?”
There is a voice above her-
(it is not his voice you will never hear his voice again your fault all your fault dead dead dead)
-the voice continues, but it is not talking to her anymore.
“I think she’s in shock-- Oh god, she’s bleeding, oh that’s real bad, aw jeez,” warm hands grip her arms and lift her to her feet.  She doesn’t remember falling to her knees.  That explains why her leg feels like it’s on fire-
(burning burning the house is on fire there is a man in a mask her dad is on the ground burning)
  She is vaguely aware of being half-carried over to an ambulance.  They sit her down, telling her to put pressure on the wound, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.  She does this without comment, cannot open her mouth for fear that the words will come tumbling out and never ever stop.  She does not move.
Duck and Minerva had just finished taking down the abomination and were making their way over to Leo Tarkesian and Dr. Sarah Drake when they saw the top of Mt. Kepler lift into the air, then came crashing back down, shaking the earth and causing the telescope to creak and sway a little, which in all honesty was really terrifying.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Duck yelped as the ground shook with the aftershocks of the mountain’s collapse.  He lost his balance but Minerva grabbed his arm to steady him before he could fall over. 
“Duck Newton You Should Be Careful!  Core Strength Is An Integral Part Of Any Hero’s Skill Set!” She exclaimed cheerfully, clapping a hand onto his shoulder with almost as much force as the mountain’s collapse.
“Thanks Minnie,” he wheezed, rubbing his sore shoulder.  Sarah ran up to them, her eyes wide with shock.
“What the hell just happened to the mountain?” she asked, her face pale with fear.
Duck scratched his head.  “Honestly, Sarah?  I got no earthly idea, but we should probably go find out,” he sighed.  “C’mon, we got a ways to go.”
The group of four made their way across the field towards the parking lot, Minerva still giving Leo a piggyback ride on account of his injuries.  When they reached the front gate, Sarah paused and turned to Duck.  She looked as exhausted as he felt.
Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, “As fun as this has been, I think I’ve just about maxed out my daily limit for weird.  If it’s all the same to y’all, I think I’m gonna head on home.”  She points to him, “Don’t think this means I’m gonna let you off the hook about this, mister.  I expect an explanation.”
He salutes her playfully, “Yes, Ma’am.  I’ll have that report on your desk by Monday.”
She smiles and says, “See ya around, Newton,” before turning and walking into the night.
Duck, Minerva, and Leo do the same, making their way to Duck’s government-issued truck.  He chucks the extra broadsword into the truck bed, slings Beacon back around his waist, and slides behind the wheel exhaustedly.  A part of him waits for Aubrey to call shotgun before remembering with a start that she isn’t with them.  He’s so used to having her and Ned as back up in life threatening situations that their absence right now is disconcerting.  He’s more than a little anxious to see them again; they’d all been so busy with their own situations the past few days that they hadn’t had much of a chance to hang out.
“What A Fine Chariot This Is, Duck Newton,” Minerva booms jovially, slapping the roof of his truck.  There is the distinct sound of crumpling metal.
Duck squints blearily at her as she squeezes into the passenger seat, mentally cycling through the five stages of grief as Minerva buckles her seatbelt.  He turns the key in the ignition and drives out of the parking lot.
… 
The closer they get to Amnesty Lodge, the more nervous Duck gets.  Not for the first time since the whole Sylvain mess started, he resents Kepler’s location in the Radio Quiet Zone.  Usually he didn’t mind not having a cellphone, but right now he would give just about anything to call Aubrey and Ned and make sure they’re okay.  The herd of ambulances and police cars heading towards the Lodge do nothing to quell Duck’s mounting anxiety levels.
His anxiety turns to dread as he turns onto the dirt road leading to the lodge and sees the crowd of townsfolk gathered in front of the gate, an ambulance parked off to the side.  He jerks the truck to a stop and jumps out, not even bothering to take the keys out of the ignition as he scans wildly for his friends.  Minerva moves to follow him, but he stops her, telling her to watch out for Leo.  Things are complicated enough without throwing an honest-to-fucking-god alien warrior into the mix.
When he finally does see Aubrey’s colorful shock of dyed hair, it is both a relief and an extra source of stress.  A relief because she’s alive, and a source of stress because she’s sitting in the ambulance.
Duck rushes over to her, his heart dropping into his stomach as a list of every worst case scenario runs through his head.  Someone found out about the lodge, someone went through the gate who wasn’t supposed to and went on a rampage, Agent Stern arrested someone, someone got hurt, someone got killed.  At least Aubrey is okay.  And while he doesn’t see Ned anywhere, Duck isn’t too worried about the old guy.  He’d survived ramming into a Pizza Hut sign with a jetpack, as well as the explosion of said jetpack immediately afterwards.  The man was damn near unkillable.  He skids to a stop in front of Aubrey, his momentum almost causing him to crash into the side of the ambulance.  He takes her in, noting the bandage on her leg and the shock blanket around her shoulders.
“Y’okay, kid?”  He asks, “Aubrey?”  She doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at him or even seem to register his presence.  
That’s his first clue that something’s wrong, because he’s seen her like this before, after the whole ordeal with the Pizza Hut sign.  The hollow, haunted expression on her face is nearly identical to the one she’d worn that day.  It scared him then and it scares him now.
“Aubrey,” he repeats her name.  “C’mon kid, ya gotta talk to me.  I just got here, I’m way outta the loop.”  Nothing.  She just keeps staring blankly ahead.  He crouches down in front of her, waving a hand in front of her face to get her attention.  Again, nothing.  Shit.
He stands back up and starts pacing, raking his hands through his hair, “Aubrey!”  He snaps.  The longer she stays unresponsive, the more nervous he gets, “I need you to say something, kid, you’re fuckin’ scaring me!”  Try as he might, he can’t quite keep the panic from bleeding into his voice.
Finally, finally, she looks up at him, and his heart breaks.
Aubrey looks absolutely wrecked.  Her eyes are bloodshot and ringed black with smeared mascara and eyeliner, her face blotchy and tearstained.  Disconcertingly, both her irises are a bright, piercing orange.  Duck figures this is something important, something he should ask her about right away.  He doesn’t, though, because he couldn’t care less about whatever earth-shattering event made Aubrey’s eyes change color.  He doesn’t care about all that world-saving, chosen one stuff, and he never has.  He cares about people, his people, and right now that’s Aubrey and Ned.  They’re the Pineguard, his family, and he would rather die than see them hurt.
“D-Duck,” Aubrey whimpers, her voice fragile like his ma’s best china.  “Duck, I couldn’t…h-he…”  She shatters, then, curling in on herself as she sobs.
“Hey now, uh,” Duck has never been good at comforting people, especially when they’re crying.  But this is Aubrey and she needs him, social anxiety be damned.
He sits down next to her on the tailgate of the ambulance, shifting so that he’s almost facing her, and puts his arms out, “Do you-- Ooph!”  Before he can finish his question, Aubrey collapses against him, sobbing into his shoulder.  Duck freezes for a moment, unsure, before wrapping his arms around her.
“I-It’s all,” she hiccups, “it’s all m-my fault, Duck, I-I couldn’t…”  She dissolves into sobs again, too distressed to continue.  Her shoulders shake with the force of it.
Duck pats her back awkwardly.  “Aw, Aubrey, I don’t know ‘bout that,” he says, “I don’t think-- don’t blame yourself, kid.  I’m sure you did everything you could.”  Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because she starts crying even harder.
He doesn’t know what to say, so he just hugs her tighter instead.  He hates himself a little for that, wishes to god that the words didn't stick in the back of his throat like old gum on the underside of a picnic bench.  Aubrey hiccups, and Duck rubs her shoulders soothingly.  He’s never seen her like this before, never seen her this broken.  Sure he’s seen her cry, seen her upset, but never like this.  Something is very, very wrong, and Aubrey’s clearly in no shape to tell him what, so he scans the crowd for someone who can.
Finally, he makes eye contact with Jake Coolice.  Which, okay, not exactly ideal, except for the fact that he’s standing next to Mama, who’s engaged in conversation with Detective Maygen.  Duck jerks his head towards the matriarch of Amnesty Lodge, hoping Jake picks up what he’s putting down.  The neon-cloaked Sylph looks confused, and he points at Mama and mouths her name in a silent question.  Duck nods emphatically.  Jake smiles and gives him two thumbs up before tugging on the sleeve of Mama’s duster to get her attention.  The older woman turns to Jake, who points in Duck’s direction.  She squares her shoulders, like she’s preparing for battle, and makes her over to the ambulance.  
The first thing Duck notices is how tired she looks.  The second is the blood on her shirt and hands.  
His blood turns to ice in his veins, “What the fuck happened?” he demands, “Are y’okay?”
Mama sighs, her whole body moving with it, “It’s not mine,” is all she says, and her shoulders slump in something a bit too much like defeat for Duck’s taste.
“Whaddya mean, whose is it then?” he asks, panic setting in.
She exhales softly through her nose.  “Duck, honey, I’m real sorry,” she begins, “now I don’t want you blaming yourself for this, ‘cause it ain’t no one’s fault.”  Mama pauses, looking up at the night sky before running a hand down her face.  There is dried blood under her fingernails.
“Whaddya mean, Mama, what happened?  What don’t ya want me blaming myself for?”
She looks pained, “Duck, sweetheart--.”
“No!  Don’t baby me, I aint a fuckin’ kid,” he snaps.  “What. The. Hell. Happened.”
“I-it was Ned.”  The response comes not from Mama, but Aubrey.  She pulls aways from Duck, exhaling shakily and wiping her eyes.
Duck stares at her.  “Whaddya mean, did he get hurt or somethin’?” he asks, pretty sure he already knows the answer to that question and hoping to god that he’s wrong, “Aubrey?”
She shakes her head.  “No, uh,” she takes a shaky breath, “Shit, I can’t do this.  Mama, uh, can you explain, please?”  Her voice trembles as she gives the older woman a pleading look.
Mama gives her a sad smile, “Sure, baby.”
���Thanks,” Aubrey sniffles.  Duck puts an arm around her and she buries her face in his shoulder.
Mama takes a deep breath, “Duck, ya said ya didn’t wanna be babied, so I guess I better just say it outright.  Ned ain't hurt, honey.  I’m so, so sorry, Duck, but he’s dead.  Ned’s dead.”
The words hit him like a punch in the gut, leaving him breathless and gasping.  
That can’t be right, Ned can’t be dead.  Ned ‘Cowardly’ Chicane, the only one of them with any sort of self-preservation instinct, the guy who just the other day had assured Duck that he didn’t need to worry about him getting hurt because he quote-unquote, “knew when to get the hell outta Dodge” was dead?  No way.  This had to be to work of the shapeshifter, or some sick practical joke.  It couldn’t be true, because if it was, it would mean Duck had failed.  It would mean that something happened and he hadn’t been there to take the big hit.  It would mean that Ned had taken the hit instead.  And he can’t handle that.  What’s the point of being the “Chosen One”, the so-called savior of the planet if he can’t keep the people he cares about safe?  
“Duck?”  Mama’s voice cuts through the haze of grief and shock clouding his brain.  He doesn’t respond, “You with us?”
He wants to argue, wants to break down and scream at the injustice of it all.  But he doesn’t, because he’s not the only one grieving Ned’s-- he’s not the only one affected.  Aubrey’s here too, huddled against his side like a barnacle on the hull of a ship.  God, she’s so young, still just a kid, really.  She shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.  She shouldn’t have to deal with this at all, truth be told, but that’s not in the cards.  The least Duck can do is be strong for her.  He’s good at being strong.  So he pushes aside all his grief and anger and self-recrimination, packing them away in a cardboard box in some dusty corner of his mind to deal with later.  Aubrey comes first.
He takes a deep breath, “Yeah, Mama, I’m with ya.”  He runs a tired hand down his face, “What, uh, what happened?”  His voice trembles right at the end.  He clenches his jaw.  
Mama glances ever so slightly at Aubrey.  “I’m fine,” is all the young woman says.  Mama looks to the night sky, as if hoping the stars can tell her how to make this easier.  Whatever she was looking for, it isn’t there and she faces Duck once more.
She does that thing again, squaring her shoulders like she’s getting ready for a fight, “The Abomination, it took Ned’s shape an’ then spilled the beans about everything on television.  The lodge, the gate, Sylvain, all of it.  That’s why all these folks are here,” she gestures to the crowd of townspeople.  
“Ned, he killed it and came down here to try and divert ‘em, send ‘em on a wild goose chase.  It sorta worked, actually, he got rid of about half of ‘em.  He starts talkin’ folks down, tryin’ to get the rest of them to see sense,” she laughs bitterly, “And it mighta even worked, too, ‘cept then the glowing coffin shows up and out pops Dani.  And she’s all feral, completely outta her mind after being separated from the hot springs for so long.”  
Her mouth presses into a thin line.  “And then she, well… She charged these here folks, and Ned, he tackles her.  Thing is, you get a buncha scared folks with guns in one place, well, someone’s bound to get hurt.  And tonight, that was Ned.  He got shot, and by the time the ambulance got here it was too late.  There wasn’t nothing any of us could do,” she looks over at Aubrey when she says that.  “And that’s… that’s the whole story.  I’m sorry,” she gives him a sympathetic look, “Y’alright, Duck?”
Duck says nothing, just nods sharply.  Because how do you respond to something like that?  What do you say when someone’s been ripped from your life and you can’t remember the last thing you said to them?  What do you say?  What can you say that would be enough to encompass the raw, gaping wound that takes the place of your heart, the way your stomach drops, when you think of all the things left unsaid?  What do you say?
As it turns out, “Let’s go home,” is a pretty good start.
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jarofstyles · 4 years
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SK8ER BOI II- Ollie
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A/N: oooOOOO here we go! a little more development before the rollercoaster starts. The little angsty elements make it that much more exciting though. Enjoy! - n + d
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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
warnings: drug use (weed), cheating, smut, ass play
word count: 10.5k
The next day at school, it wasn’t hard to find Y/N. She stood with her friends as Harry skated past, waving at her as he went by. His black sweater and jeans were practical and normal wear. 
“Since when were you friends with him?” One of her friends asked with raised brows. “He’s not the most social of them all.” 
It was true. Harry tended to keep to himself and minded his own business, stayed with his group of friends and didn’t bother anyone. He hooked up at parties to be people’s bad boy fantasies and all that but he wasn’t much of a talker in social situations. Not a lot was known about him besides he smoked weed, drank, hooked up and was generally a nice guy. You could label him a stoner skater and it wouldn’t be wrong.
It was really nice to see Harry, Y/N thought it was cute that he waved when he skated past. It did bring a smile to her face. “Oh, we’re assigned partners for Mr. Beck’s anatomy class.” Y/N explained, “he’s actually really nice. Easy to work with.” She nodded and noticed Timmy looking at her with furrowed brows. “I’m going over again on Friday to work on it.” She let him know, wrapping her arm around his waist from behind and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You alright?” Of course Y/N just had to act as she would normally, she couldn’t let anyone know of her little secret. It wasn’t that hard keeping up with Timmy though, she did genuinely care about him and affection was her immediate way of interacting with him. Hugs, kisses, nothing had changed really. 
“Nothing, babe, was just curious.” Timothée smiled down at her and leaned down to peck her lips. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder and sighed, that spark really wasn’t there.
Even Harry noticed, there was no chemistry. Lighting up a cigarette, he leaned against the tree with Niall talking Zayn’s ear off, watching the couple. It looked like they were friendly but the guys’ arm stayed on her arm. The boy didn’t loop around her waist, didn’t hold her body closer— no. It was a very obvious thing to him now more than ever. 
“I’m positive he’s not into girls.” Harry said. “Nothing wrong with it but... Y/N’s hot. He’s literally not touching her at all.” He spoke lowly. His friends didn’t know he was hooking up with her and it was normal for him to have random outbursts like this so it was okay for him to say. 
“Ya think? He looks sickly whenever she kisses him.” Niall snickered. “It’s fine but, he shouldn’t string the poor girl along.” 
Harry agreed.
----
The rest of the week went by just fine but realistically Y/N was excited for Friday. Maybe it was bad of her to get all ready for him as if they were a thing, but she wanted to feel nice and look nice for him even if it was just someone she was hooking up with. Y/N had taken extra precautions, telling her mom she was working on a project with a friend but she might go to Timmy’s after to spend the night. Now. Y/N wasn’t sure how long she’d be staying, but just in case. She wanted to have as much time with Harry as she possibly could. So, she got dropped off at Harry’s around 5 after dinner, her heart beat picking up again. She had worn a set of underwear with little hearts on it, thinking it was cute. Y/N didn’t feel comfortable wearing overly sexy sets, they just weren’t her. Hopefully Harry would think they were cute. She wasn’t even sure if they were for real going to do stuff again, but she could only assume so.
He had kept an eye on Y/N and Timmy for the rest of the week and struggled to understand why Y/N was still with the dude. He didn’t pay her much attention. Sure, he would kiss her head or rub her arm but there was no physical affection. From what Harry has seen, Y/N thrived off of being touched. It must be really hard for her. He didn’t know why she went for that and stood for the treatment especially when she was barely getting anything out of the agreement. It confused the fuck out of him. Either way, he tried to stay out of it. the house was clean and Y/N was coming over and he had questions for her, so he would ask them later. He figured if it ran late enough he could order pizza and bring her home. Or whatever she was doing next. It was Friday. He was just planning on smoking and using his telescope.
Y/N texted him saying she was there and smiled up at him when he opened the door. Just as last time, the kitties came running over to greet her and she couldn’t help but smile, again dropping down to pet them all. 
“Hi my angels!! I missed you.” She giggled, letting one of them climb up onto her lap. She picked it up and nuzzled against it, pressing a kiss to its nose and hummed as it purred and went to kiss her nose. “Awe, thank you!” She cooed, setting it back down. She stood up when she heard Harry clear his throat, blushing a little. “Hi.” She giggled and brushed her skirt down. Y/N took her shoes off as usual and left them by the door before following him up the stairs to his bedroom. She’d noticed he had candles lit this time, had some fairy lights going too. Was he setting the mood? “It looks nice in here.” She complimented, taking a seat on his bed. “How was your week?” She asked, wanting to make some kind of conversation because she really didn’t want to just blurt out about how she’d been thinking about his dick the whole week.
“Thanks. M’gonna smoke a bit and look at my telescopes later so I made it cozy.” Harry shrugged. Also, it would be easier for her to be comfortable around him. A good atmosphere was important. “What about you?” He laid his laptop out on his bed. Today he was in comfortable clothes. A sweatshirt and joggers but— it was kind of hot. He had a tank top underneath, so he slid it off and let himself be clothed in just the tank. It showed off a nice amount of tattoos. His parents were cool like that. They let him get them as long as he did well. Said it was his body and his choice to regret it if he did one day. “Ah, Muffin likes you.” The orange kitty weaved around her legs, mewing to be picked up. It did indeed love Y/N and her good energy.
“Is that what you do most nights then?” Y/N asked curiously, wondering if astronomy was something he was majorly into. “Didn’t know you were into astronomy.... then again, I don’t know a lot about you so.” Y/N chuckled and blushed, swallowing thickly as she admired his tattoos. “Those are really nice by the way.” She spoke, nodding to his arm. Y/N knew she was awkward with making conversation, but hopefully he got the hint that she wanted to hear more about him if he let her. “I’m supposed to go to Timmy’s later.” She explained, knowing he probably wouldn’t like that. Truth be told, she’d rather stay here with Harry, but she hadn’t spent any time with her boyfriend this week and she felt bad. “Hi muffin.” She cooed down at the kitten in her lap, “you get as cozy as you’d like, okay?” She told the cat not expecting it to respond with a meow. Y/N looked at Harry with wide eyes when it happened, “oh my goodness!!”
He laughed under his breath. She was going to her boyfriends after getting her shit wrecked by Harry? Part of him liked it. She would go and think about how Harry was by far a better choice. There were no ifs ands or buts. He was annoyed on another part because he wasn’t sure why she kept giving the dude the tone of day, but apparently that wasn’t his business. A slight smile came on his face as he looked at her with the cat in her, astonished that she had talked back to her. 
“She likes you quite a bit.” He commented, bringing his computer to his lap. “But thanks, about the tattoos. I love em. And I love astronomy. The stars and all that stuff. My dad works at NASA, so I’d like to go there too.” He hummed. “Not an astronaut cause, I’d go crazy being trapped in a ship but... learning about it. It’s cool.”
Y/N was surprised to hear it, but her heart did swell. Something about men that loved the stars made her all gooey because they were naturally dreamers regardless if they saw it that way or not. She knew Harry was artsy, liked that he was in fact, it gave him a lot more depth. Fuck. She needed to stop thinking that way. 
“That’s so cool! You have to be really smart for that.” Y/N said, knowing he must have to be a genius to work for NASA. It was an extremely complicated job, lots of math involved, but Harry seemed to be somewhat offended at her question. “No, no— I didn’t mean it like that, I just.. sorry, I knew you were smart I just. I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry.” She spoke, feeling herself blush. He was far smarter than her that’s for sure. She of course was just trying to be a teacher, well.. she didn’t quite know what she wanted to be yet. Y/N was often stuck in feeling like she didn’t really have a purpose.
“It’s cool, I get it. A miswording.” Harry chuckled as he saw her panic that she offended him. He was used to people putting him off as a lazy student because of his looks and calm demeanor. But she obviously didn’t mean it. “Yeah, it’s what I want to do. Lucky my dad is there but I’m not gonna get a job by slacking, so I make sure to get A’s. A lot of people don’t expect it of me but it’s fun. School is really easy for me.” He didn’t have to try. He was that lucky bitch. It came to him naturally. “But what about you? What do you want to do?” He was curious what she would be interested in. If she wanted to be something specific or if she was figuring it out. He could see her doing something artsy or with literature. She seemed to be a bit bookish when it came to that.
Y/N was happy to know he did well in school, glad he found it easy because she was often panicked with how difficult it could be whenever there was all too much going on. “I think that’s great though, it’s nice to have a passion.” She said, petting the kitty in her lap. “I um... I don’t really know yet. I thought I wanted to be a teacher, cause I really like little kids and I’d really like to help them learn.” Y/N explained, “but sometimes I wonder what else I could do? I second guess myself a lot.” It was a struggle for her internally but she knew she’d figure it out eventually. She did have lots of passions, writing being one of them, she just didn’t think it was worth the stress of money. She let out a deep breath, watching the cat jump out of her lap to get some attention from Harry. She went to work on the project wanting to get a lot done so that they could do stuff, if of course he wanted to. Again, she didn’t want to assume that it was a more than one time thing.
“It’s okay. It’s definitely hard. You don’t have to know now. I’m lucky cause my parents just let me find what I like and I was early on with what I liked. They put a pressure on us to know right now and we don’t have to.” Harry shrugged. “My whole side of my dad’s family is into space and engineering. It was funny when he married my mum because they’re kind of opposite? He’s practical in work but goofy as shit at home. My mom is like... the best. But she’s the one who makes sure my dad doesn’t just buy a Jeep for the fuck of it.” He laughed. Their careers and their personalities matched well though. It was easy to open up to Y/N because she genuinely seemed interested in what he had to say. Plus, it wasn’t classified information. “What do you like? You should try and look into stuff that’s like... that you’ll enjoy. No sense in working a job you hate forever.”
“Your parents seem really cool.” Y/N smiled brightly at him, genuinely happy that he had a good life. Harry didn’t deserve to feel hurt ever. No. He had a good head on his shoulders and a great support system. She felt like there was a spot for a nice girl in his life, but it seemed like he wasn’t actively searching for one? Maybe that was a sore subject. She let out a breath, “I really like writing, it’s fun for me to express myself in that way. But I don’t think I’d be a very good writer as a job or anything. That’s mainly why I said I’d be happy with teaching, cause I know I couldn’t ever be upset knowing I’m teaching little kids something... giving them a good example. Know how important it is to have good teachers that make you feel comfortable.” Y/N was really enjoying just getting to know Harry. It was easy talking to him, he was lovely, really. No judgement at all and of course he gave great advice. It was then that she got interrupted by a call. It was Timmy. 
“Hey... is everything alright?” She knew he wouldn’t call unless it was urgent.
“Hey, Uh... I don’t think we can do Tonight. We’re super busy with the committee and planning stuff and I wouldn’t be good company.” He said distractedly. He was very focused on being student body president again and he took it far too seriously. “We can go out one day next week? It’ll calm down after I get reelected!” No it wouldn’t. He was always coming up with excuses. “But— sorry, they got food and we’re working on a new slogan for the posters. I’ll talk to you later, sorry.” 
Harry could see her face fall and her lip start to tremble. He immediately felt concern, moving to sit up more on the bed and tilted his head as she let the phone fall on the bed. “Hey... what’s up?” He asked gently. Not sure what was going on but knowing that he probably should be concerned by the look on her face. “What happened?”
Of course. Excuses as usual. Y/N was trying, trying really hard to be a good girlfriend or whatever the fuck she was. God, she wanted to have a nice conversation with him today, ask him what had been up with him recently but he had been avoiding her like the plague. He didn’t like her even as a friend? Was that it? Even if he was gay, she could only hope he would tell her instead of stringing her along. Y/N wasn’t sure what to do because realistically it shouldn’t hurt her this much, but she had been with him for three whole years, been best friends before that. Course it hurts. Y/N swallowed thickly, tears starting to fall down her face as she looked at Harry. He’d think it was stupid. It was no secret that Harry didn’t like Timothée, at least to her at least. She didn’t want to look stupid. 
“Timmy he’s busy with the campaign is stuff... said we can’t hang out.” Y/N sniffled, wiping her eyes. She was crying more so cause she was embarrassed. She felt like everyone knew and she was just getting dragged along.
Anger welled in him. How many times was this asshole going to hurt her heart? How could he not see he was selfishly dragging this shit out and leading her on when she could be out of that relationship and be shown an actual thing or two about a man. 
“No... Y/N, don’t cry.” He whispered. Internally, he felt panicked but he moved over to where she sat and placed an arm around her. “It’s alright. He’s a loser for that. But I feel like there’s more to why you’re so upset about it.” He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her the best he possibly could. “Does he do this a lot?” He was curious, trying to understand her complete meltdown now from him not wanting to hang out. It had to be a common thing if she was this upset over it.
Hearing the words ‘dont cry’ only made her cry more, hiding her face in his chest. She didn’t trust her voice yet, a sob coming from her as she nodded her head to let him know it was a regular thing. 
“Sorry...” She sniffled, trying to catch her breath properly. “I’m just embarrassed...” Y/N explained, “cause he just— he’d rather do anything than hang out with me.... and you know, now I’m suspecting he might not be straight, but to his knowledge he still thinks I don’t know. So he’s just— I don’t want to pressure him into coming out if he isn’t ready either! What if he isn't?” She felt more tears fall, wiping them aggressively. “Feel really stupid for being upset cause I feel like everyone knows except for me, and he’s just dragging me along and isn’t even trying to fake it— just hurts cause you know, thought he’d want to at least hang out with me cause he thinks I’m cool or whatever but apparent not.” Y/N felt very hurt, her heart cracking because she felt like everything was falling apart quite quickly and she didn’t want to just dump it all on Harry like this.
“Woah... hold on there. He’s the idiot, bunny.” He left a pet name slip. “What type of person does that shit to someone else? You are very cool. Very pretty. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s a him issue. A hundred percent not a you thing, love.” He was positive about that. Y/N hadn’t done anything to deserve this, at all. It made him sad to think that she could possibly be feeling as though it’s genuinely her fault. “It’s not stupid to be upset either. It’s valid. Doesn’t matter if he's straight or not. He’s pushing and stringing you along and not giving you anything but a title for it. I watched you both this week a bit. Sorry If that’s creepy but... he doesn’t treat you right. Even as a friend.” He explained. It made him so sad to think that the boy was hurting her for no damn reason. “Can I tell you something? I was wicked excited to hang out with you today. I've been looking forward to it all week. I don’t like hanging with lame people so... you’re definitely very cool.”
Y/N chuckled at his comment, sniffling a bit. “Are you sure you weren’t excited because you knew you’d get some?” She asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. Y/N wasn’t assuming he was like that, but no part of her believed she was cool enough for Harry and her tone displayed that. Harry was being very sweet to her and he absolutely didn’t have to. She could have just excused herself and collected herself and carried on with the project but he was being insistent on calming her down. She let out shaky breaths, staying snuggled into his chest because she found it to be the most comfortable thing. “Sorry I’m crying all over your shirt.” Y/N chuckled and pulled back, looking up at him with her eyes all blown. She liked him. She liked him a lot but she knew that he wouldn’t want to be involved with someone like her. She was such a baby and was scared of everything. She didn’t do drugs, didn’t go to parties, she wasn’t sexy. She just minded her business and watched anime at home.
“Woah... no, that wasn’t why I was excited. I mean, I was hoping we would do something but I wasn’t gonna push it if it didn't feel right. You’re a genuinely cool girl, Y/N. I don’t have a ton of Friends so like... it’s cool to find someone I think I can be friends with.” He was sad she felt that perhaps that was her only worth to him. It wasn’t at all. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about the shirt, I don’t want you to be sad.” He continued rubbing her back gently. Poor Y/N. She was a mess in her mind. “But you’re a lot more than just a hookup. To anyone. You’ve got a ton of worth and you’re fun to be around regardless.” He didn’t like the thought of her being sad. “We can just hang out after we finish the part we’re working on. We’re already ahead. I’ll uh... I can show you some constellations if you wanted?”
It really did mean a lot to her to hear him say that. Y/N always felt that she was constantly in her boyfriend’s shadow, always being called ‘Timmy’s girlfriend’ and never by her name at times. Y/N wanted to be her own person, liked that that’s how Harry saw her. It made her feel all warm inside. Her eyes rested up again but she didn’t cry, a smile finding its way to her face before she practically jumped him with a hug. Y/N squeezed him tight, nuzzling her face into his neck. 
“Thank you.” She mumbled quietly against his shoulder, holding on to him tight for a while. 
“I’d really like that.. the constellations.” She told him quietly as she loosened her grip, but stayed hugging him closely. It felt really nice.
“Great. There’s a ladder I have— we can get up to the roof and look at ‘em. It’s safe.” He had been up there so much that there was a railing on the roof his dad hired someone to put up. Just in case. “In the meantime, I can order pizza or something while we work? By the time it gets here we’ll be done.” He suggested. Feeling the nod in his neck he smiled, grabbing his phone and calling his favorite pizza place. 
She had stayed in his lap while he ordered, his fingers going up and down her side as he got them a cheese and pepperoni as well as some of those cinnamon dessert sticks. She needed it after a hard day. Harry didn’t like physical touch all that much when it came to strangers but he already considered her a friend. 
----
Working went by rather quickly after her little cry, they’d both decided they had done a lot of work today so they started packing up and Y/N was getting more relaxed. She had put her stuff in her backpack and moved it off of his bed by the door so they had more space. He was getting ready to go outside, gathering some things. 
“Know you said you were going to smoke, you still can if you want, don’t want to ruin your night.” Y/N said softly, standing beside him as he opened the door to the roof. It was really cool how he had a place to look at all of the stars, his family must be extremely proud of him. 
Harry helped her climb up and gave her a blanket to lay out while he brought all of his stuff up. He seemed really excited to be doing all of this and that made her smile, she was excited to get to know him on this level, hear him talk about things he was passionate about. 
In Harry’s eyes, she couldn’t ruin his night. Not when she was excited to learn about the stars and things like that. She didn’t make fun. Instead she accepted his passion and was eager to have him explain. He grabbed some of his equipment, bringing it up so they could look at the planets visible if they wanted to. The door was closed so the cats didn’t follow them up there, Harry also bringing a sweatshirt for her to wear. It felt weird, giving a girl a piece of clothing to wear. Usually he hooked up and left. But Y/N deserved more respect than that. She was hurting. 
“Here— Uh, you can wear this cause it’s a bit chilly.” He murmured, handing it to her to put on as he put the telescope down and sat down next to her. She did, and he was happy because it was getting nippy out even though during the day it had been warm. “Let’s see... let’s look at constellations first and then I can show you my telescope and see other stuff.”
Y/N felt really cozy now that she was wrapped up in the warmth of Harry’s sweatshirt. She’d seen him wear it earlier, he also wore it to school. It was a big navy one that said, don’t trip. She knew that this didn’t mean anything though, he just didn’t want her to be cold is all. She pulled the sleeves up over her hands, pawing them up for optimum comfort and laid back on the blankets with him so it was easier to see. She scooted closer, looking up at the clear night sky. It was quite dark outside, but the moonlight illuminated everything just enough for them to be able to see what they were doing. Y/N was looking up at a bunch of stars, clearly, but she only knew a few constellations. 
“Alright then, educate me, Mr. Styles.” She said with a small hum, just joking around with him.
“Starting simple I suppose. So... up there.” Harry pointed, getting close to her so they would have similar lines of sight. “That’s the Little Dipper. And right over there? The big one.” He traced them outline with his finger. “When I was little I wanted to be a star. Everyone thought I meant like an actor or something but no. I literally meant I wanted to be one of the stars.” He chuckled. “I study them instead. But it gets a bit overwhelming sometimes.” He adjusted his body so theirs were pushed together for optimum warmth and accuracy. “Each of the stars that makes up the constellation is a different galaxy. Our sun is a star. Isn’t that wild? Like... we are the stars in other universes. We are in their sky.” He paused. “At least if you believe in that sort of things. I do.
Y/N moved so that she was laying on the inner part of his arm, closer to his chest. It was a lot easier to look at them this way. She gasped as he pointed out the two, smiling because it really was beautiful. “You know... I have freckles that look like a Little Dipper on my arm.” She was really proud of that, and felt like he would appreciate the little fact. “Aren’t some of them like... based on Greek myth and stuff?” She asked curiously, naturally nerdy about those types of things. Y/N liked all kinds of mythological stories, loved hearing about what they were meant to teach people. She didn’t necessarily believe, but sometimes she wanted to. 
Harry was very comfortable to lay on. They hadn’t exactly cuddled like this before, but she hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time they did this because she was much calmer now. She felt a lot more relaxed.
“Mhm. There’s Orion and his belt. The seven sisters. You can see them over there.” He pointed each one out. “The seven sisters is a star cluster that I particularly like. I always wonder what lies behind them. If it’s incredibly hot wherever it is because of the nearness of the stars.” He liked feeling her lay on him like this. It was relaxing. She was good to lay around with. “I suppose we’ll never know the absolute truth, unless a new technology comes out that allows us to go light years. Or aliens. Either way.” He was joking but also, not really. He believed in aliens. “Over there  is the Gemini constellation. The twins. Also an astrological sign. Leo, the lion. Pisces. Represents Aphrodite and Eros tying themselves together to escape typhon, the worst monster in mythology.” Harry murmured. “I sit for hours out here and just stare. I know it’s a bit weird but it’s comforting at the same time it’s scary.  That we’re so small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things but... our beings can mean the world to someone else.”
Y/N nodded along, listening intently as he spoke. The sound of his voice alone was soothing, but she found herself turning her head to look at him instead of the stars an awful lot. She thought he was beautiful, especially in the moonlight. She needed to cut it out though. He was a good friend to her, she shouldn’t be getting too ahead of herself when she had just found something good. 
“Think it’s really cool... always wondered about stuff like that. Space is really scary but very fascinating.” She said and let out a sigh, “if you ever want to talk about it more, we can...” Y/N blushed, genuinely wanting to hear random space facts if that was something he wanted to do. 
She was finding that the little crush she’d always had on him was for good reason. He was a really cool guy. Really really cool. He was so relaxed and laid back, the amount of calmness he displayed was incredible. Maybe hanging out with him more would teach her to relax better.
“Yeah? You’re cool, Y/N.” Harry smiled at her efforts. She was really trying. Really, really trying to be a good friend to him and god if it didn’t make him want to make out with her. “Did you want to smoke with me? If not, I can sit at the roof door and we can talk from a distance so you don’t get any of the smoke.” He questioned. Harry didn’t want to pressure her but he did feel like perhaps she would like it. “It’s not scary or anything.” He could see her internal debate. “You’ll probably cough a bit at first. Some people are different. You’ll also probably be hungry, and it does make you a bit more horny than normal.  At least it does for me, 100%.” He laughed. Y/N could benefit from it. “But I like it cause it makes me feel a lot more relaxed and loosened up. It feels nice to not worry about tests or the future for a bit.”
Y/N looked at him with a bashful but curious gaze, “I um... yeah, I’d like to.” She said with a nod. It seemed like a good idea, relaxing? being hungry and horny? Sign her up. She knew he wouldn’t put her up to anything that could endanger her, besides, he did it all the time and he was just fine. She sat up and watched as he took out a little box, pulling out a ziplock bag of green clusters and a circular object. Y/N watched as he broke about a green cluster and placed it into the object, twisting it to grind up the weed. He meticulously rolled up one perfectly packed joint, pulling out a lighter before setting the box to the side. She was a little nervous, but he made it look so easy. Y/N watched as he lit it and inhaled with ease, it looked simple enough. She just had to breathe in. He passed it to her with no rush and she brought it to her lips and inhaled. Y/N felt the smoke fill her lungs but she did start coughing, getting used to the sensation. 
“That was so weird.” She laughed a bit as she coughed but took another hit nonetheless, this time a bit more prepared.
“Yeah, it can be trippy when you first try and do it but it gets better.” Harry smiled at her attempts. It was admirable that she was so easily trying new things. It was something he liked about her. She didn’t judge much. They passed it back and forth and Harry had the bright idea to move everything inside before he was too lazy to, first bringing down the telescope and then helping her down the stairs. 
“Wait— look at this. Lay on the bed.” He grinned, watching her confused face. He turned the lights down and flicked on the star projector that filled the room with many star-like projections. It made his room look like space. Even better when high. He hopped next to her in his bed. “What do you think?”
Y/N knew that she’d feel all floaty when high, but this was really cool. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. She carefully maneuvered down from the roof with Harry’s help, pulling off the hoodie because she suddenly felt very warm. 
“Woah!” Y/N’s eyes went wide as she looked around the room. “You didn’t show me this last time!” She looked at him with a look of wonder. It was very much amusing. She laid back and closed her eyes a bit, just soaking in the moment and how much it smelled like him in his bed. “Feels really nice...” She said lazily to him, “can you come here please?” Y/N asked, her voice going all cute and soft. She just wanted to cuddle again. On the roof it was really nice and she thought it would be even nicer on a bed.
“Yeah, sure.” Harry liked her clingy. She was lovely this way. Being high made her ask for things she wanted, apparently and that was good for his sake. He immediately was met as a cuddly Y/N when he moved closer to her, letting her curl up next to him. Harry was feeling things out but he was curious to know what she liked. What she would want to do if they continued hanging out. 
“How do you feel? Both being high and hanging out with me?” He wanted to show her how it felt to have a true friend. Someone who treated her nicely. That oui oui baguette boy obviously didn’t treat her how she needed to be treated. “You want to be friends with me, right? Cause we could do this shit all the time. I smoke with Zayn and Niall but they’re like, suuuuuper obnoxious with it.”
Y/N happily swooped her leg over Harry’s hip, her arm moving around his waist while her head rested on his chest. She sighed feeling finally comfortable, letting out slow and relaxed breaths as he spoke. 
“I feel... floaty. Like, I have no thoughts yet somehow I can form sentences? It’s strange, but very cool.” Y/N giggled and shifted her head so she could breath in his scent a bit better. “I do want to be friends with you, you’re really nice.” Y/N spoke honestly, “if you would rather smoke with me or just hang out, we can hang out whenever you want...” Now that she was high she wasn’t really thinking about how things came out, she was sort of just saying them and hoping for the best. “I’m hungry.” She mumbled, “but I’m also comfy.” Y/N huffed, making it out to be the biggest dilemma in human history. She sat up though, remembered they had gotten pizza and smiled when she saw it sitting over on the coffee table. “Harry! You’re a genius!” She smiled and went to grab his cheeks. She kissed him once and got up to go grab the box to bring over to them.
He was surprised at how quickly she had kissed him, scurrying over time the pizza box and coming back to him. It was amazing. Y/N was sitting there looking all sorts of innocent when she had just kissed him and not even thought twice about it. She was munching happily on the pizza and he took a piece as well, letting her get comfy as they sat up on the bed to eat. 
“I’m glad you want to hang out with me. I’m a cool guy sometimes, I think.” He had been told many a time that he was cool by his friends but it felt good to know she wanted to be around. 
“I think you’ll like my friends. They’re idiots but they mean well.” He did love his friends even when they were stupid. They went to parties together and mooched off of the free alcohol. “But I definitely don’t kiss my friends like I do with you. Nothin’ against them, they’re attractive but, I’m not into beer breath.”
Y/N did a little happy dance while she munched on her pizza, focusing on getting as much as she could into her belly because it seemed like she could swallow the whole earth. “You are a cool guy. The coolest. Everyone at school wants to be friends with you.” She said honestly, knowing the hot gossip. “But I win.” She giggled, taking a sip of her water that she had laying next to her. Y/N felt herself getting full but then again she did just finish her third slice. The cinnamon sticks were her next victims, she let out a moan at the taste. “Really? Well, I don’t really kiss anyone like I kiss you anyway so....” Y/N shrugged, basically saying that he was the only person she kissed with passion and desire. Yeah she kissed Timothée but kissing him was more of a chore now that their relationship was falling apart.
“Yeah? That's a good stroke to my ego.” He did like knowing Y/N was happy with kissing him like that. He couldn’t help but be a bit proud of that. “You’re a great kisser. But if you keep moaning like that I’m gonna be tempted to bend you over.” His threat was lazy but he would happily play with her again. He wasn’t sure about fucking her. He didn’t want her to regret it. But she had the best ass and beautiful tits and he wanted to see her naked. “What? Don’t look shocked. You’re makin’ me hard with that moaning over food. You’ve got a sexy as fuck voice. I like Hearing it. Plus, I’m already attracted to you and know what your pussy tastes like so the weed isn’t helping my cock.”
“Well, I am a bit shocked.” Y/N chuckled, “Didn’t realize I was doing anything.” She blushed, putting the cinnamon sticks down because now they were getting into some serious talk. “I like when you talk like that..” Y/N told him, smoothing over her skirt a bit to try and distract herself but it definitely wasn’t working. The weed was definitely giving her a bit of confidence, mostly because her anxiety was shut off and she was just speaking freely. Of course, she still had that sweet innocence to her, that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she tired. “Obviously haven’t done anything except for what we did the other day so... know I’m not exactly the sexiest.” She chuckled and looked up at him. She was aware of some of the different things you could do during sex but she wasn’t one to research. It made her feel gross watching other people, most because she didn’t find the men attractive and that was kind of the most important part.
“You’re sexy. Don’t say that about yourself cause you 100% are incredibly sexy.” Harry stopped that right away. He didn’t like her thinking that she was anything but a sexy little thing. “I love your innocence but... trust me. The used panties I came all over prove that you’re hot as fuck. You’ve got a dirty side. Just haven’t tapped into it yet.” He hummed. “I’m glad to know that you like me talking like that. You’ll be happy to know that I am willing to teach you or talk to you about anything you’d want to know, including sex. That much I am a very hands on teacher.” He wiggled his brows to make her laugh. “Do you wanna know somethin?” He asked. When he got the curious look he continued. “I couldn’t stop staring at your ass the other day. When you wore leggings. You stood right in front of the tree my friends and I stand outside of. You got excited and jumped a bit and your ass jiggled. When I tell you I was half hard the rest of the day...” He really was. “You’ve got the best ass. M’obsessed.”
“Really?” Y/N was intrigued. Did he really want to teach her about sex? Would he show her things and make her feel the way she felt the other day? It seemed like an offer she couldn’t pass up at all. “Not turned off by how I don’t know stuff?” She asked with furrowed brows, it was always something she was insecure about. “I know literally nothing though... I don’t really like watching porn it makes me feel gross.” His little story about her ass though? That made her rather excited. She had worn leggings because she had gym that day, thinking that her shirt would cover enough of her ass but clearly it didn’t. Not that she really cared because it was Harry who was looking. “Usually when I wear leggings I don’t wear underwear.” She said mindlessly as she took a sip of her water. “Is that something you like then? Are you like.. a butt guy?” She asked curiously, wanting to know more about what he liked. “I know you... you have a lot of sex, yeah?” Y/N asked with a blush, feeling like she’d get jealous if he answered.
“You weren’t wearing anything under them?” Harry felt his body want to explode. “Just walkin’ about with  no panties and.. fuck me.” That was unfair. Cruel, really. He didn’t have his hands on her that day, and he would think of it every day forward. “I am an ass guy. I love tits too, don’t get me wrong but... there’s something about ass I love. But— I mean, I don’t have a ton, no. It depends. S’like an itch. If I need to scratch it, I will.” He could tell she would be disgruntled if he told her about his sexual escapades. “I know enough to teach you stuff. Whatever you’d want to learn. I’m not too shy of a guy when it comes to that stuff so you can ask me whatever you want. As long as you don’t mind me being dirty mouthed when I talk.” Harry got off on words. So knowing she was interested in asking things? He loved that.
“How often do you have an itch?” Y/N asked, raising her brow at him. Y/N did want to know, part of her did even if she would get a bit pissy about it. She had no reason to be territorial, but she just wanted to be the only girl he went to when he did have an itch. Y/N liked whatever they did the other day, no one had ever made her feel like that. She felt so sexy and beautiful and good. “I don’t mind.” Y/N shrugged, moving closer to him to get comfortable again. “It’s hot in here.” She sighed, getting up off the bed so she could take off her little corduroy dress. It still wasn’t enough though so she simply stayed in her little white socks with a laced rim and her set of underwear that had the cute red hearts on it. She slid back down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, “okay so like.. what do you like to do most then? Obviously there’s the actual sex but like, describe your fantasy. Mine happened the other day so honestly everything’s sort of free game now.”
“I swear to god, you’re my wet dream.” Harry closed his eyes as he tried to center himself. “Jesus... look at you.” He muttered, rolling his eyes over her body. “Love this shit. You’re not trying to be sexy, you just are.” His finger ran over the waistband of the panties on her hip before pulling back. “I like.. well, I love anal. Of course I love pussy, specifically the idea of cumming in one. But I haven’t done that yet. M’not into the idea of knocking up someone random but. I can’t lie and say that it isn’t something that’s hot to me. The idea of like... owning someone like that. A part of me in them. It’s hot but a lot of girls would think I’m actually trying time get them pregnant.” He rolled his eyes. “But I love dirty talk. have a filthy mouth and I know you’re aware of it.” He laughed quietly, pinching his bottom lip. “But yeah, I like eating pussy. Obviously. I like dirty shit, but anal is definitely something I love. Think it’s cause it’s a bit wrong in some people’s eyes. And ass is tight as fuck.” His eyes took in her curves. Yeah. Her ass would be the tightest. It’s never been touched. “What do you mean... your fantasy was the other day?”
Y/N was pleased that he liked her little set, “I did wear it for you in all fairness.” She shrugged a bit and flipped over so she was laying on her stomach, looking over at him while she rested on her elbows. Definitely so she could have her ass up and her tits on display. That was a subconscious choice though. “Never even touched my butt in that way before.” Y/N spoke innocently, “does it feel good?” She asked, genuinely curious. Everyone has an ass so of course maybe he’d know how it felt. “Oh, I’ve like... I’ve thought about what happened the other day a lot. Like, sitting in your lap and having you touch me like that and stuff... really like your hands, I think about them a lot too. And your lips, they’re like perfectly plump.” Y/N didn’t realize he didn’t know she had a crush on him. Her high brain assumed she’d told him.
“It does, but you’ve got to work slowly if you’ve never done it before. Some people like pain so they don’t work themselves open before but I always say that you should... ya know, get fingered or licked out back there and make yourself relax.” He wasn’t surprised she hadn’t touched back there though. “I’m interested to know... you’ve thought about me before? I didn’t know this. I didn’t think you realized I existed much.” He raised a brow, eying her ass. He moved a hand down to rest it on her lower back, playing with her panties. “My hands? That’s interesting. I’m just shocked you knew me. Let alone had those thoughts about me. Wow... that’s fucking cute.” He grinned. “What else did you think about me doing to you?”
Y/N looked away from him bashfully, simply letting him touch her however he wanted to. She really liked his forwardness, it got her going. “Yeah... I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year.” Y/N admitted, playing with her hands. “Thought about you a lot, cause like... you’re what I wanted timmy to be like.” High Y/N clearly spoke freely. Y/N had to think about his next question because in all honesty, she didn’t really know. “I haven’t really thought about anything else like that, just the basic stuff... I don’t know about all of the other things, I know lots of people are into different things.” Kinks, she was talking about kinks. “Is there anything like that that you like? Like— stuff that when you think about it you get all gooey inside? Or sometimes it makes you feel really alert and squirmy?” Y/N asked, remembering how often she’d see him and get that way. “Always liked seeing you skate and stuff, like your jaw gets all clenched and you look kind of angry... liked how big and ruff your hands are... and your arms they’re nice too.”
“Yeah... I like some stuff.” Harry coughed. Fuck, he was gonna tell her too. He was liking the honesty between them as well, knowing she was happy to blurt out shit like how she liked his hands and arms and when he got angry. “Kinks... there’s a lot of things I like to try. I don’t think they count as kinks but I do enjoy spanking. Like, I’d kill to spank your ass. See my handprint on it. I like kinda rough stuff. Don’t let this scare you though cause— we don’t have to.” He warned her. It wasn’t intense stuff but he was aware she was a complete virgin. He didn’t want to scare her off. “Like... choking a little. Hair pulling. Spit exchange. I loved when you squirted on me, it was messy and hot and that shit gets me off. S’why I came so fast.” He murmured. “Also would love to try overstimulation on someone. Make ‘em cum as many times as they can take. Toys. I have a few I’d like to buy but I don’t have people who come round to fuck. I wouldn’t do it at home with a rando. so... you’re definitely special.” He laughed. His hand was sneaking lower. “Mm, I love a bit of power exchange. And I like to be called Daddy. Fuckin hot.”
Y/N was very intrigued, her pupils likely blown out by the idea of Harry doing all these things to her. If he liked that kind of stuff, she’d definitely try it, because the other day she felt so good. 
“The other day you made me cum like three times and it hurt but like.. it felt good?” She explained, “think I like pain though.” That would explain why she liked the concept of him spanking her so much. She liked the idea of being someone special for him. If he wanted to try stuff with her he could, she just wanted to be adored. It was then, when he told her he liked being called daddy that she felt herself whimper. She was getting really horny just talking about all of this stuff, but she was mostly curious about the ass stuff. So, she decided to be bold because the weed was giving her a new found confidence in her relaxed self. Y/N looked at him for a moment, feeling his hand resting on her ass. She moved it up against his hand and let out another little whine.
“Daddy? Can you play with my bum please?”’
Well, fuck. That was something. Something Harry really, really wanted to do. 
“Christ...yeah, I can do that.” He whispered, happy that she was as into this as he was. Because— he definitely was. He moved, rounding her body so he could get the perfect view, the perfect angle so he could touch. He groaned when she stuck it into the air for him, swaying back and forth. She was trying to tempt him, and it was working. He gripped her hips before pulling her towards him, letting out a breath as he took it in. “Fuck me. You've got... the perfect ass.” He whispered, running his hand over it. Pulling the panties up so they were right on her , shaking them a bit before letting them go. “You... are so much trouble, little thing. Aren’t you? Gonna drive me mad.. walkin’ round in leggings with no panties on. Daddy’s gonna have to grab you and play with you next time I see you in them to check.” He muttered, beginning to peel them down. “Fuck, you’re soaked again.” He could see the wetness still stringing to the panties and he used a finger to catch some of it, licking it clean.
It was becoming clear that Y/N was less shy when she was horny. It was the one this she wasn’t afraid of asking for, especially after having that whole conversation with him. She liked knowing what he liked, now she could bring it up if she ever wanted him to touch her. She let out a pleased squeal when he pulled her towards him by the hips, leaning down when her knees brand so her ass could be as high up as possible. Y/N pulled a pillow down so she could rest her head on it and look back at him. She moaned at the idea of him pulling her away at school to mess with her. 
“You always make me messy, daddy.” She told him, lifting her legs so he could pull her panties all the way off. Her cunt was needy, absolutely so, but she was intrigued by the idea of ass play. He seemed to be really into it too so she wanted to see him get all excited about it. “Can spank me if you want..” She gave him the go ahead, “Wanna try everything..”
He didn’t take a second chance. His hand came down, firmly on her ass. The panties off, he could see the skin jiggle under his hand and the pink mark begin to show, her squeal doing more to arouse him. Obviously she liked it, so he did it to the second cheek. 
“Naughty little girl. Hm. You like daddy’s hands spanking you.” Harry said with pleasure. “So gorgeous.” He rolled it in his hands, squeezing hard on the freshly spanked skin to watch her writhe a little bit. “So you’re dirty like me then.” He hummed, grabbing at her and gently pulling her legs apart. “Let’s see that pretty hole.” Of course it was pretty. Never been touched, small. He was going to wreck it. Even if it wasn’t today. “Fuck. M’gonna fuck this hole if it’s the last damn thing I do. Fuck me.” He leaned over and spit thickly on to it, thumb rubbing gently over it in circles. Letting her get a feel for it.
Y/N liked it. She liked it a lot and it scared her because she was unlocking something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face. That was a problem for sober and none feral Y/N to face, right now she was too busy loving every second of it. 
“Mmmmmmm” a long whine came from her as he rolled it in his hand, hands gripping at the pillow. Her legs spread with ease, her eyes closing as she relaxed the best she could. Y/N felt her cunt throb at his words, hearing him spit and feeling it drip down made her go absolutely insane. “Daaaaddyyyyy!” She whined, moving her ass back against his working thumb. Y/N was learning that she was also very impatient. Her cunt was in desperate need of attention and the thumb on her ass was only getting her more worked up. Thank god she’d showered before coming here and she was clean as a whistle.
“That sounds good coming from your mouth.” Harry whispered as his fingers ran over her ass. It was fine now to play with her. Y/N was a needy girl and he was finding this out day by day. “M’gonna play with you. Just lay and take it.” He settles and ran his tongue right on her hole. He knew she had never had this before so he wasn’t surprised when she jolted, but he simply spread her legs open again and took another lick. It was lovely. Not only because Harry genuinely liked eating ass but Y/N squealed, body squirming a bit with each lick. She was mouthy too, saying little babbles of how odd but good it felt.
Just lay and take it.
Oh my did Y/N like the sound of that. The feeling of him licking at her ass was different than when he ate her cunt. It was definitely pleasurable but not the same. Y/N didn’t think she could cum like this, but then again, he hasn’t exactly put his fingers in or anything. 
“Feels nice..” She hummed as she got used to it, hands tightening around the pillow. My god what was she doing? She had a boyfriend for fucks sake but this felt so damn good. Y/N couldn’t stop seeing Harry after this whole project thing ended. She needed to do this again, wanted to do this all again. It really couldn’t be anyone but him. He did say he was going to play with her, what else could be in store? “Ah! Daddy!” Y/N squeaked, feeling him poke his tongue inside. Tingles spread through her at the feeling, it did feel really good. It was then that she felt him press his thumb into her, her ass tightening around his finger. It was so unfamiliar, but she knew she just had to relax. 
“There we go. Not gonna do too much today work this. Gonna finger you and let you feel it, see the pleasure.” And then eat her out and cum on her ass. It sounded like a good plan. He slowly worked his thumb into her, moving down and licking from clit to her entrance. His thumb worked at her hole, giving her an abundance of sensations. “Hm. Maybe I’ll get a little vibrator and we can put it in your ass while I lick your little pussy. How’s that?” He asked. It was obvious that they weren’t going to stop doing this for a while. He was teaching her all about it now and he wasn’t going to stop. Not now. “Mm. Tastes so fucking good.” He took his thumb out, working in a longer finger. He wanted to fuck her ass with it while he licked at her pussy. “Feels nice too, hm? Havin’ me touch you everywhere?”
She whimpered at his offer, “please daddy..” Y/N pleaded all huffy and needy from the sensations. She was feeling him everywhere... it was making her go a bit crazy, especially because it seemed like an insane amount of teasing. It all felt really good, her whole body was feeling the waves of pleasure and all she could do was lay there and take it like he said. 
“Like it so much, daddy... I want to feel more of you..” Y/N knew he would only give her little bits of newness each time, but she really wanted to feel like one with him. She wanted to feel him properly, look him in the eyes and have him make her scream for him like he had before. Y/N was a whiny horny mess all over again, Harry having unlocked pleasures that she didn’t even know existed before today. “So good to me, make me feel so good..” She wished she could thank him in some way, help him out but he was insistent on showing her stuff.
He had made her cum 3 times again. They were even bigger than before and she had in fact squirted again but he loved it. After cleaning up, he had her lazy, fucked out and high body laying on him as he relaxed. 
“We’re gonna be good friends.” He hummed. Part of him was worried though. Because very quickly he was feeling a bit of a want for her. One where he could kiss her anytime he wanted but, she still was technically in a relationship. Regardless if he treated her shitty, it was still a title and he didn’t know how to ask her if she was going to break up with him. Did he even want a relationship? Would she want a relationship with him? Was he just a bad boy fantasy? 
Regardless, it didn’t matter. Y/N was going to be his friend.
She pressed soft kisses to his chest, relaxing he had yet to get shirtless or naked for her. It was always her. But maybe that’s just how he wanted to keep things. On a friend level. 
“Mhm...” Y/N hummed and again nuzzled her face into his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin. “Thank you again...” She spoke just below his ear. “You me feel special.” Y/N was positive he was an angel sent to her. He truly made her feel like she was some heavenly being, made her reach highs she’d never felt and helped her let go of all the things that have her anxiety. She didn’t know how she could possibly thank him for it, but she would somehow. It wasn’t going to be hard to keep this from Timmy considering he barely hung out with her anymore, but she was going on a date with him sometime next week like he promised. She needed to talk to him, ask him about them and how he felt about them and why they weren’t having sex. She needed to get to the bottom of it.
The weird thing was, Y/N made Harry feel special too. And that scared him a little bit. It was difficult to get Harry to the point where he felt a deep connection with someone because he did fear a betrayal. Granted, he was the one helping her with a betrayal of someone else but... it felt so different. With the girls he slept with before, it was clear cut that it was only one night and it didn’t mean anything besides scratching an itch. He couldn’t say that about Y/N. He cared about her. Even more so finding out she had had a crush on him. It would hurt her more if he was a dick. She was sensitive emotionally and Harry was mindful of that. But he didn’t want to get attached when she already seemed attached to Timmy. He would have broken up with him by now if he was in her position. He wondered why it was taking so long. But either way— he wasn’t going to sleep with her fully until she was single. Just in case.
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[part 3]
A/N: the saga continues.... they really do get bold - n + d
let us know what you think!
masterlist
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halfumbrella · 3 years
Text
a hargreeves family groupchat
alright folks, here is pure mindless shitposting. these types of stories always make me laugh my ass off so i’m gonna try to write as much of this as i can lol. all of them are so ridiculously out of character so don’t expect any context from this.
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luther has added 5 others to the chat
luther: alright, who stole my telescope.
klaus has added five to the chat
klaus: missed one of us bosstie.
five: What?
diego: what the hell would anyone want with your old ass telescope luther. none of us wanna mess with your moon fetish.
allison: deigo be quiet.
diego: oh guys careful, luther’s body guard is here.
luther: you’re not funny diego.
diego: i’m fucking hilarious. and i don’t have your microscope
luther: telescope
five: You don’t know the difference between a microscope and a telescope Diego? How stupid are you?
klaus: you don’t have ot yel five
five: What?
klaus: your capslock is loud
five: I don’t understand why you all are typing in lowercase the entire time that’s not proper grammar. I can see now why Diego can’t tell the difference…
klaus: five i set your phone to lowercase your going out of your way to fix it,
five: you’re
klaus: LOWERCASE
luther: please can we get back to the issue on hand.
five: at
diego: hey siri how do you remove someone else from the chat
luther: TELESCOPE
klaus: i stole it.
diego: well don’t admit to it that easy klaus geez youd be a terrible drug dealer
klaus: youre ablsoty right for different reasons
luther: what the hell klaus where is it?
klaus: i broke it and shoved part of it up my ass
five has left the chat
klaus: i lied, i didn’t shove it up my butt. but i did break it. unfortunately.
luther: goddamn it klaus.
luther has added five to the chat
luther: if i have to be here so do you
five: this family makes me want to murder people.
2:46am
diego: who’s playing fucking mitski rightn now?
luther has left the chat
lmk if you enjoyed it and want more or if you want me to stop this cursed thing before it gets worse.
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ayofandom · 3 years
Text
Some random Creek high school headcannons:
Craig
Can’t sit normally to save his life and by that I mean he sits like a bisexual woman.
At least one foot isn’t on the ground it’s either on a chair or a table
Leans his chair on the back two legs in class and it drives his teachers mad
Once he gets over his ‘I swear I’m not gay ask my boyfriend’ phase he starts to let himself do more traditionally feminine things like painting his nails
He and Tweek get their first piercings together and Craig gets multiple
A stud on his lobe, two hoops on the top of his ear, his septum and a lip piercing
Clyde jokes that they’re there to ward off emotions
He and Tweek have pride flags in their rooms but during a family reunion one of his homophobic aunts cut the corner off of it
Rightfully ran out with it to Tweek’s and stayed the night there
He went to work the next day and came back to Tweek’s to discover that Tweek had sewed a piece of fabric that he printed a picture of the two of them kissing at pride on to replace the missing corner
Pride flag remains loud and proud in his room but there’s now a lock on his door
That’s right fuck you Helen and fuck your vegan casserole
Speaking of his room he has glow in the dark stars on his ceiling and blue LEDs
He also has space bunting that Tweek made for him
There’s a low roof outside of his window and he has blankets, cushions and a telescope on it
Frequently gets told off for falling asleep stargazing on said roof
Saturday nights are dedicated to Craig and Tweek sitting on said roof surrounded by Craig’s astrology books
Hates coffee because it’s too bitter so he drinks Monsters instead
His favourite is the original because ‘classic is always best’
He loves photography he has a Polaroid camera and takes it everywhere
He spends so much of his pay check on film for his camera it’s not even funny
He has the kind of car that has a big space in the back that you can sit comfortably in
It’s perfect for drive in movie dates
Would never admit it but he internally adopted Butters in middle school
That’s right Mama Craig the proud father of a guinea pig and this awkward blonde he found
He tolerates Kenny at best. Sometimes Stan and Kyle. Never Cartman.
Everyone else outside of his friend group can fuck off.
That’s a lie it’s more of a love/hate relationship with everyone else
But you’ll never hear him admitting that
(Though the point still stands for Cartman the guy is one step away from getting curb stomped at all times)
If he’s not with Tweek he’s on the outskirts of town vibing on the railway tracks
“Tweek I’m not gonna get hit by a train”
“You don’t know that!”
The amount of times Tweek has gotten a text telling him to go to the railway tracks because Craig has once again hopped a train whilst running away from teachers because he was supposed to have detention but Craig Tucker ain’t about that life
If he can’t escape in time expect an elaborate Great Escape style plan
The music taste of a bitter old man who peaked in the 1980s and never got over it
Says he doesn’t care about his outfits but nobody believes him
Stripe ripped his chullo so Tweak bought him a blue beanie
Collects patches to put on his backpack
Tweek got one saying ‘number one boyfriend’ and it’s his favourite
Tweek
Finds cleaning therapeutic and now he lives for the aesthetic
Blame Token. Token got into light academia and Tweek wanted to try it but ended up obsessed with fairy lights
“Would you like to see my rock collection?”
Tried to get Craig to work at Tweak Bros because whenever it got too busy Craig would help serve
Craig said no :(
Realised in middle school that, hey, maybe wearing button downs I can never button correctly is a bad idea
But he likes button downs so now he usually wears open flannels over an undershirt or something
Right ear pierced and he loves long dangily earrings
Makes his own earrings out of literally anything
He steals some of Craig’s polariods to hang in his room the display is so cute
Speaking of his room is very boho
Lots of plants that help reduce anxiety
He got into things like arts and crafts and gardening to help his anxiety
Hence the bunting in Craig’s room
Soft boy aesthetic but don’t be fooled he will f your a
And by that I mean it took 3 people to stop him from spearing a girl that was hitting on Craig
His hair is so FLUFFY and CURLY Craig loves it
Sometimes he straightens it but when it’s straight it’s really long so he puts it in a low ponytail
Always prepared for every situation both medical and otherwise
Catch Clyde covered in Shakespeare themed plasters after every practice
This boy is a theatre kid tell me otherwise
When he starts to learn to manage his anxiety everyone convinced him to go for it and he loves it
Writes songs and puts them in Craig’s locker. Craig nearly sobs every time.
He once performed one of the songs at the talent show and Craig started ugly crying right there in the front row everyone was disturbed and amused
Once tried to paint his nails like Craig but he’s not the best at it
Craig painted them for him and he loved them
Unfortunately the polish lasted all but 2 minutes because it turns out he has a habit of picking off nail polish
Stripe has his own set up at Tweek’s house that guinea pig won’t want for NOTHING
Buys Stripe presents for every occasion
Every
Occasion
Gives Craig rocks
Craig doesn’t believe in the power of rocks but you best believe he’s gonna take those rocks (and Google what they’re for)
Mostly gives him rose quarts
Spell jars for everyone
That’s right ya boi’s a witch
Likes all music but holds a special place in his heart for musicals, indie and rock
Exclusively into indie because he liked Craig’s music but he’d rather be dead than admit that Craig has good taste in anything so he goes with the closest alternative
Big extrovert loves everybody but he has social anxiety
The issue at hand is clear
That’s why he loves hanging out with Craig so much because Craig is an introvert it’s just time alone with the person he feels he can really express himself with
So here’s the thing Tweek can drive but nobody wants him too
Sure he’s been working on his anxiety but that doesn’t mean he’s cured and never is that more apparent than when he’s driving
Drives at, I kid you not, 5mph with no music and nobody is allowed to speak
Suffering
(Bonus they have keys to each other’s houses at this point they might as well unite their families but that’s what marriage is for)
112 notes · View notes
thiswasinevitableid · 2 years
Note
For monster March! 27 Indruck sfw/nsfw
Here we go! I went SFW for this one.
Thanks to @bellafarallones for helping me brainstorm
27 was: Harpy
One would think that, once one has been forcibly transformed into a horrible avian monster, one’s life could only go up from there.
One would be wrong. Or perhaps Indrid has been cursed by the fates with more bad luck than he thought possible. Because now he’s flying faster than a gale with a dozen heroes at his heels; the king has offered the hand of all three of his beautiful daughters to the man to bring him Indrid’s’ wings. For Indrid’s head, he’ll give away his handsome son.
Indrid has tried every spell and trick he knows; in spite of their reputation as all brawn and no brain, the heroes are unhelpfully prepared. Every spell is countered, every trick foreseen, and Indrid cannot fly forever. So he summons up the last spell he knows, a strange and difficult incantation to send the caster, “to a place where their enemies can never reach them.”
The shouts die out and the spears and arrows no longer skim his feathers. The sun is bright and warm above him. And he has only time to say “fuck” before he collides with the mountainside that has suddenly appeared in front of him.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
“Hey, Duck, can you look and see if you see what I think I see?”
“Uh, sure thing.” Duck adjusts his hat as Juno steps aside, then peers into the telescope, “you mean that wing on the ledge about halfway up?”
“Yep. Glad you see it too; sometimes the heat out here really gets to me. Hate to say it, but given the angle of the wing and the fact it ain’t movin’, I think we got a dead specimen.”
“Damn. I’ll go take a look, see if it’s tagged and make sure the cause of death ain’t man-made. Swear to fuck, if I find out it’s been shot I’m gonna start settin traps for those poachers myself.”
“Okay tiger.” Juno pats his arm with a smirk, “radio if you get in a fix.”
Duck grabs his water bottle and sets off towards the cliffs. Every now and then, the glare of the desert sun is cut by a huge shadow and a condor spirals down to a nest or favorite lookout. They’re an hour away from sunset, so it’s not as hot as it could be, but it means he has to go extra slow once he starts picking his way up the rocks; rattlesnakes will be coming out about now and the last fucking thing he needs is to be airlifted into the city.
He only radios back once, to have Juno confirm he’s on the right track. When he finally hauls himself up onto the ledge, the resulting “what the fuck” bounces off the surrounding rocks.
What he thought was a dead condor is a fucking guy. With wings.
“What the fuck?” He repeats to the dust as he kneels and reaches out to check for a pulse. There’s a faint one, thank fuck. He quickly checks the guy over, discovering his right wing is broken and that he’s bruised and scratched from his fall.
“Duck to base, Duck to base, do you copy?”
“We copy sport” Thacker’s voice crackles through, “what’s the damage?”
“We need a rescue stretcher out here; we got an injured person out here who needs med attention ASAP.”
“Roger that, Juno and Pigeon will be there soon as they can. Base out.”
“Copy that. Duck out.” He clicks the walky-talky back into his belt, does his best to shade the fallen figure with his own shadow. As his co-worker’s voices creep closer, he studies the visitor. His hair is pale, almost silver, and his bare chest is tan. Both it and his arms are covered in scars and tattoos. Dark feathers dip from his wings down across his collarbone, then reappear at his hips and cover his legs before giving way to taloned feet.
“What happened to you, huh?” Duck murmurs, brushing dust from the man’s cheek.
“Okay, how do we wanna jesuschrist!”
“That about sums it up.” He turns to Juno, “I got no fuckin clue how he got here or what he is.”
“Harpy.” Pigeon begins arranging the stretcher, shrugs as they both shoot her a puzzled look, “my mom is super into birds and bird myths and stuff.”
“....Honestly that makes this even more confusing.” Juno picks up her walky-talky, “I’ll let ‘em know we need someone taken into the hospital.”
Duck shakes his head, “I think we oughta treat him here; we got a vet here who can fix huge wings. Hospital may actually fuck that up and make it so he can’t fly.”
Juno thinks a moment, then nods, “Okay, but if we see the human parts of him takin’ a turn, I’m callin’ AirEvac.”
Duck watches a captivating, dusty face wince with some bad dream.
“Deal.”
—------------------------------------------------------------------------
Indrid awakens with an ache in his wing and, alarmingly, some sort of tube connected to his arm. He’s in some form of tent, sand and scrubby plants visible through the flap. Along one wall of it is a table covered in what must be doctor’s tools. At the end of it is a man, short and sturdy, writing on a pad of paper. His clothing is green-brown and dusty, and a broad brimmed hat perches on his head.
This is unlike any underworld he’s ever heard of. Which means….
“I am not dead.”
The man turns, startled, which sends his hat to the ground. His face is round and soft, and with his eagle’s eyes Indrid spies smile lines and crow's feet at the edges of his green eyes.
Perhaps this is fate’s repayment for all his bad luck; the most handsome man in the world, looking at him not with revulsion, but relief.
“Uh, howdy. You’re up.”
“Indeed.”
“You…feelin okay?”
Indrid blinks, unsure of what that means.
“Uh, do you feel good? Bad?”
“I feel…perplexed. And injured, but that you already know. What is in my arm?”
“You were real fuckin dehydrated when we found you, so we got some fluids into you just to be on the safe side. Since you weren’t awake, we had to do it that way.”
“I see.” Indrid cocks his head, “I do not suppose you know where we are?”
“Middle of nowhere, Arizona, near one side of the Grand Canyon and in the backyard of Amnesty Lodge and Roadhouse.” The human tilts his head, “out there is Kepler Wildlife preserve, includin a condor rookery. Which is why we even found you; thought your wing was one of theirs. I’m, uh, I’m Duck Newton. It’s a nickname”
“You may call me Indrid. And what year is this?”
“2022.”
“Goodness!” His feathers poof up and the human hides a smile, “ah, of course, the spell sent me not only across space, but time as well. How…nice.” Panic rises in his chest at the thought of facing an unknown world in this accursed form.
“You time-traveled? Fuck, man, that is so fuckin cool?”
“It sent me somewhere hot.”
“Uh, sorry, figure of speech. Means it’s real incredible.”
“Thank you. I, ah, apologies, it has been a long time since I was paid a compliment or spoken to like an equal. My skills in such matters are a bit rusty.”
“S’alright, no one here’s gonna get mad at you. Oh, that reminds me” he pushes open the tent flap, “be right back, got something for you.”
Indrid waits patiently, his future sight slowly swirling to life behind his skull. He uses it to follow Duck’s path, then sags when he understands what’s to come.
“Brought you some chow. Uh, food. Even if you weren’t out there that long, dinner’ll do you good.”
“I can’t. I am only allowed to eat what I can steal from the wicked.”
“....What? Says who?”
“Everyone knows that is the way of Harpies.”
The human frowns, steps closer, and then turns his back, holding the plate out, “Uh, I, uh, lied. Definitely lied, this is my dinner, so not yours, very, uh, very much mine. Sure be a shame if someone took it when I wasn’t lookin’.”
Indrid almost points out that Duck is far from wicked, but a quick glance at the futures shows nothing bad will happen from it. He snatches the tray.
“Aw dang, wily harpy took my food.” Duck turns around smiling and winks. Indrid’s cheeks ache and realizes it’s from smiling back.
“Indeed he did. Relatedly, what is all of this? I only recognize bread and grapes.”
“Ham and cheese sandwich, Twinkie, and some sour cream and onion chips. Oh, and Gatorade. It’ll help with hydration.”
Indrid eats the familiar foods first, discards the chips after one bite (Duck gladly eats the rest), downs the sweet, blue liquid from the bottle and nearly swallows the strange cake that is the Twinkie in one bite.
He chirps softly, eyes heavy with sleep, and keeps doing so until Duck looks at him.
“You are my hero.” He murmurs.
“Just doin’ the decent thing.”
“I like your voice. Please, keep talking until I am asleep.”
A soft, absurd laugh that brightens Indrid’s heart like a temple lantern, “Think I can manage that.”
—------------------------------------------------------------------
This is getting ridiculous.
It’s not that Duck minds the song and dance needed to get Indrid to eat, but it’s clearly frustrating the harpy more with each passing day. He wants to be able to eat by himself in the Lodge, or alongside Duck and the other rangers and research staff by the campfire (he’s become obsessed with S’mores, ate the last bath with such enthusiasm that Duck had to help him get marshmallow out of his feathers. Given that it made Indrid laugh and allowed Duck to pet the exquisite black down around his chest, the ranger isn’t complaining).
So today, he’s trying a new approach. He asked Indrid to get dinner with him in the Lodge. And when the harpy slides into the worn booth across from him–wearing a spare shirt of Duck’s with holes cut into the back for his wings and a pair of loose, linen shorts someone left behind in their room–Duck slides him the menu.
“I can’t.”
“What’ll happen if you do?” Duck keeps his voice gentle and curious; if something bad actually will happen, he doesn’t want to scare his friend into it.
“I, I was told it was what fate had in store.”
Duck nods, remembering a conversation they had two weeks ago by the campfire.
“So…is bein’ a harpy genetic? Or do you get turned into one, like a werewolf?”
“It is closer to the second, at least as I understand it from those captivating love stories you brought me. I…I was a seer. It was my job to interpret fate. I did it well, did my very best not to question or interfere in the timelines I saw. I, I tried to interfere once when the future was too terrible to contemplate, but it went poorly and resulted in the death of a certain gods most favored hero. He cursed me as punishment.”
“Fuck that guy.”
Indrid gasps, then laughs, “You see; you are the bravest man I know.”
“I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” Duck bumps his shoulder against the uninjured wing. Tentatively, it unfurls, draping over his shoulder.
“Had there been more heroes like you, perhaps I would never have fled. All the same, I am glad fate brought us together.”
Duck rubs a thumb along the condensation on his water glass, “Is it fate, or was it just something someone told you about being a harpy to make sure your life was harder than it needed to be?” He takes Indrid’s hand, “you got future vision, right? Why not peek and just see what’d happen if you ate without ‘stealin’’ it?”
“Very well. I will look but I still think it is…it is, as you say, bullshit!” Indrid’s eyes go from cloudy to bright red, “All this time stealing and starving and I could have just eaten as anyone else does!” He grabs the menu just as Dani, one of the Lodge staff, approaches, “Four of the cinnamon buns, two of the hot cocoas, and a plate of bacon. Please.”
Duck gives his order and as Dani moves towards the kitchen she gives him a thumbs up and whispers, “glad it worked.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------
Indrid leans on the bar as Mama, Amnesty’s owner, counts out the tips into a stack between them. She offered Indrid the job when he expressed discomfort with relying on her charity too long for a roof over his head, and between her and Barclay’s coaching and his future sight, Indrid quickly picked up the needed skills.
“We did mighty nice tonight.” She slides his half of the tips over (the few waitstaff get theirs separately), “strange as it sounds, more we move from spring into summer, the busier this place gets. People travelin’ on vacation and all that.”
“I am glad to hear it. Barclay’s pies are worth such a journey all on their own.”
Mama smiles at him, tucks her share into her pocket, “Speakin of the summer, there’s a good chance we’ll need all the rooms available for guests. I ain’t talked with Duck yet, but it might be best if you can bunk with him in the cabin for a month or two. Or we could get you a real nice tent, if campin’ is more your style.”
“Sharing the space with Duck is more than fine, if he is amenable.”
Something in Mama’s nod suggests she was expecting that answer. And why wouldn’t she? Duck is Indrid’s friend and they’re in each other's spaces constantly. Besides, room is covered as part of his job, so it does not bother him if she needs him to move now and then.
Duck happily agrees to share the cabin, though Indrid isn’t an “official” resident. The state pays Mama rent for one of the few cabins on her property on Duck’s behalf, since he’s one of three permanent rangers on this side of the park. Technically no one else is supposed to be there, but no one ever comes to check.
That isolation is something he’s come to enjoy about Amnesty and Kepler. As he packs up his few belongings, it occurs to him that he can count the number of times he went into the nearest town on one talon. Once was to help Barclay with a supply run, once was to go to a movie–what a wonderful invention those are, far more pleasant than cars or telephones if you ask him–with Duck, and once was to go to a used clothing store for some suitable attire.
(Duck still teases him for favoring “Hawaiian Shirts,” but he cannot pass up such bright colors and soothingly chaotic patterns. Plus the excess fabric means he can easily fit cut-outs for his wings).
Amnesty has some regulars, like those who drive massive trucks back and forth across the continent. Most only comment once, if at all, on his strange features. After that, his wings and red eyes seem to almost comfort them; a familiar landmark on an unending journey. Better still, when one-time visitors notice them, they never mock or shun him. They ask questions of varying levels of appropriateness, take photos of him, and even ask for photos of themselves with him, showing them off triumphantly to one another.
(It is good they do not harass him; he is not certain whether Dani, Barclay, or Mama would throw them out first, or if Duck would somehow sense his distress and come to drag them out like unruly wildlife).
He sets a cardboard box on the bed, tosses his clothes into it and then stacks the paperbacks his friends bring him from the used bookstore atop them. Toiletries go next; after all, if he is sharing his nest with Duck, he must look his best.
(Wait, where did that come from)?
When he walks into the cabin, Duck is waiting for him with a celebratory dinner of grilled cheese, Twinkies, and ice cream. And once their bellies are full and the dishes cleaned, Duck shoos Indrid to the couch so he can paint his fingernails and tops of his talons with golden polish.
“You do not have to.”
“I don’t mind.” Duck grins up at him, “feels kinda special, getting to touch some of the parts that add up to the whole amazing creature that is you.”
Indrid chirps softly, hoping Duck is too focused on his task to see him blush. He wants to say that all the wonders of the past and the present do not add up to even a fraction of the beauty that is Duck’s smile, but fear seizes his heart and warns him that is too much, too soon.
And so he simply kisses the top of Duck’s head, an old gesture of friendship (or so he told the human) and says, “thank you.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The fall could have been worse. Duck only lost his footing on the crumbling hill and tumbled halfway down. It was one more body roll between that and falling off the ledge and down ten feet onto solid rock.
So yeah, the broken ankle sucks but it’s way better than the alternative.
Indrid hasn’t left his side since the AirEvac arrived; his harpy, who hates crowds and cities and loud machinery, has grit his teeth through a helicopter ride and a hospital visit, snapping his pointed teeth whenever anyone tries to get him to leave. It’s not until they’re in Juno’s jeep, driving home, that Duck understands why.
“There was a future where I fell farther.”
“Yes” Indrid hisses, ripping off the shawl hiding his wings, “many, many of them, and I had to see them all and my wing is not strong enough to carry me and so even when I got to Juno to tell her to go and see if she could stop you it was not enough and, and” he tugs at his silvery hair, “I had to watch, not certain which future we were in until you came to a stop. So yes, I was not about to leave you in fate's hands anymore today. You have been my protector, my friend, and I will do the same for you.”
“‘Drid.” Duck pets his cheek, any useful words evaporating from his tongue when he sees how upset the harpy truly is.
“Okay lovebirds, we’re here.” Juno winks at him, helps him hobble over to the cabin while Indrid gets the door. Duck settles onto bed, ankle up as instructed, and notices Indrid pacing.
“C’mere.” He pats the bed and Indrid sinks onto it, wrapping first his arms and then his wings around them both.
“I’m okay, ‘Drid.” He strokes the ruffled feathers into order, “I’m right here. I got you.”
Indrid sniffles, hides his face in Duck’s neck. The feathers of his ruff tickle the human’s skin as the harpy mumbles, “Fate has no right to treat you so casually.”
“Good thing I don’t give a shit about fate, huh.”
“It, it is not fair! You, you are a good man and a good friend, you do hard work and care for a land and for creatures that most see as desolate and unpleasant, not worth saving. You point at some cliff face or patch of sand and suddenly I see a dozen wonders. You…you touch my wings and talons not to gawk but to comfort. When your fingers touch my skin I am certain I am light enough to fly with ease. And, and one awful, pointless turn in the river of fate nearly took you from me!” He looks up, eyes like fire, then scrambles backwards.
“‘Drid? Darlin what’s w-”
“I, I am sorry, I do not know what came over me. You need rest and to restore your health. I need to look after you as you do. Not claim you like some prize to be squabbled…over…what did you call me?” He turns doe-eyed so quickly Duck nearly laughs; sometimes his harpy gets so ahead of the future that he misses the present.
“Called you darlin. Because that’s what you are. Or, uh, you could be. If you wanted to.” He holds out his hand.
Indrid grabs it, presses the palm to his cheek and nuzzles it before pecking kisses from fingertip to wrist, “Yes, yesyes, I would be your darling if you would have me. Goodness, I never thought one would use such sweet words for me ever again.”
“Well, you were wrong. Because you’re my darlin, prettiest bird I’ve ever seen and a damn fine man to top it all off.”
“High praise, coming from the best man in this century or any other.”
“Flatterer.”
Indrid nips his palm, “Which one of us has crossed oceans of time?”
Duck laughs, pulling the harpy to straddle his lap, “You, sugar. And I’m so glad you did.”
Indrid bends down and kisses him with such obvious hunger that Duck would let him take him apart, piece by piece, until it was sated. But a bite on the lip seems enough for Indrid, who pulls back with a chirping little purr.
“Me too.”
8 notes · View notes
platypanthewriter · 3 years
Text
Lazerbeamy Strongman
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Day One of Harringrove AUgust, prompt: Superhero AU
Steve Harrington, newly hired reporter and resident Wholesome Nice Guy, kept sidling over to Billy’s desk to read his interview questions. It was hard enough coming up with questions for a superhero who could fly, hold up falling skyscrapers, and shoot lasers from his eyes. The memory of the pulse of blue light blowing out the engine block of the armed robber’s getaway car made Billy shudder.
‘Are the lasers under complete control,’ he typed. ‘Could you be startled into vaporizing the city?’
Directly behind his chair, Harrington snorted a laugh.
“Shut up, Hawkins Indiana,” Billy told him.
Harrington didn’t move.
“Cut this shit out, or I’m squirting you with a bottle,” Billy told him, through a bite of ham’n’rye sandwich. “You keep climbing all up in my business, you’re gonna get Lysol between the eyes.”
“Sorry,” Harrington said, looking abashed, but his eyes still strayed to Billy’s screen, and Billy grabbed the Lysol, spraying a whole cloud as Steve dove back to his own desk. He ducked his head as the editor of the Planet walked by.
A few hours later, Billy caught him staring at the list of questions again, from way too far away, really—it wasn’t like Harrington could actually read Billy’s screen from the coffee machine, but he looked suspiciously intent, so Billy stalked over.
“Can you see my questions from there?! Are those huge nerd frames telescopic, or—just—what the fuck, dude,” he muttered, squinting over at his desk. He could make out that Microsoft Word was open, maybe. Maybe. “How the hell,” Billy growled, turning his glower on Harrington, who stared innocently out the window, sipping his coffee.
“How could I possibly,” Harrington said, not meeting Billy’s eyes as he drank the last of his mug of coffee, and Billy took the last of the coffee in the pot just to spite him, and stalked off.
Ten minutes later, he scooted his chair back and hit Harrington’s jeans with his elbow, and Harrington stumbled back, like he hadn’t been reading over Billy’s shoulder. “Are you a fucking cat?!” Billy hissed. “I’m gonna get one of those invisible fences and shock you every time you try to sneak my interview questions—”
“You’re better at interviews than me,” Steve told him, shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck in the annoyingly ‘aw, shucks’ way Billy was fairly sure couldn’t be sincere. “Just interested.”
“I don’t think you’re gonna have the opportunity to use these questions again,” Billy said drily. “Unless you’re gonna ask the next CEO you write up which planet he’s from, and how his clothes don’t burn off when he pulls people out of burning buildings.”
Harrington shrugged, grinning. “Um, I was actually gonna ask, what are you doing tonight? After wor—”
“Staking out the roof of the police department,” Billy told him, walking away to his desk—backwards, so he could yell. “He keeps leaving criminals up there. With notes! Thirty-percent higher chance on Friday nights!”
When the spandex-clad hero landed, cape aflutter, Billy leapt out. “To whom am I speaking?” he asked, in a breathless but calm professional voice.
“Just a moment, citizen,” said the hero, running his fingers through his hair and winking at Billy, and it was the first time he’d seemed like a real person, albeit a pickup artist, and not a comic book cliche.
He bent to handcuff three unconscious bruisers to the roof, prodding a muscled, fishnet-stockinged leg back towards the woman it belonged to. “Ah,” he said, when he stood back up, his hands on his hips like he’d practiced his dumb hero pose in the mirror. “I must go! Crime never waits!”
“What the hell,” Billy shouted after him, waving his notepad.
The next morning, Harrington looked smug. “How’d it go?” he asked, like he knew, and Billy sat on the asshole’s desk and drank, in turn, from both mugs of coffee. “Hey, isn’t that one mine?!” Harrington asked, and Billy stuck his tongue in it, swishing it around.
“Not anymore,” he said sweetly, and Harrington stared at him. “And it went great, obviously. He totally listened to his public and didn’t just fly off after acting like a shithead.”
“Wait, what’d he do?!” Harrington yelped, staring. “I—I read he, uh, he brought in the leaders of three different gangs!”
“Yeah, like a shithead,” Billy repeated, draining Harrington’s favorite mug, licking it, and handing it to him, empty. “And I froze my nuts off for four hours waiting for him to come back. That’s how it went. Shithead.”
“Oh,” Harrington said, frowning into his empty mug, as Billy wandered back to his desk with his own, ignoring Harrington’s mumbled “I mean, maybe—maybe he’s got to keep, like, his identity secret—”
“I didn’t ask for his goddamn alter ego, I was asking general shit,” Billy shot back, growling, and waving the hand without coffee in it. “Or I was going to!”
The next time Billy saw the shithead, he ran straight at him, dodging the falling debris, until abruptly he was flying.
“What are you doing,” the shithead hissed, his arms warm and strong as they carried Billy to the top of another damn building. “We’re under fire.”
“That’s your job,” Billy hissed at him. “My job is this damn interview. What kinds of disasters are you most likely to help with? Does Search and Rescue have your number?”
“Stay here,” the shithead commanded, and flew off, leaving Billy stranded on the top of a skyscraper. He spent the next hour trying to pinpoint the name of the building on Google Maps, before finally finding a number to call to let him in.
“I heard you ran right into the wreckage,” said Harrington, like he was worried, and Billy scoffed.
“I’ve worked warzones,” he said. “I can handle a car accident.”
“The viaduct collapsed,” Harrington said weakly, like a coward. “You were almost crushed by a flaming bus.”
“I also didn’t get even one question answered,” Billy muttered, glaring at the list on his screen, and Harrington stared from him to it. “I’m gonna have to grappling hook that shithead.”
“Um,” Harrington said, wincing. “He seems kind of...busy, usually, when he’s—”
“So am I,” Billy told him, reaching up and prodding his coworker’s shoulder. “I have won Pulitzers, I have better shit to do than spend my nights shouting questions at some shithead who can’t be assed to tell anyone his name, let alone answer some basic peace-of-mind questions like—” he made air quotes, “—‘to what degree do you feel obligated to help humanity?’”
“He’s kind of new,” Harrington said, wincing. “Maybe he doesn’t have, a um, a super...name, yet? Maybe he doesn’t want to say, like, ‘hello, good citizen, I am Lazerbeamy Strongman’—”
“Oh jesus,” Billy snorted, choking on his coffee.
“Hello, I’m Captain Awesomesauce,” Harrington groaned, his cheeks red for some reason. “I’m Rad-Dude.”
“Oh fuck me,” Billy coughed out, cackling. “So you’re saying he’s a moron.”
“I did not,” Harrington huffed, and Billy grinned at him.
“Are you a fan, Harrington? I saw you run right over to look at the latest pictures of him. That why you’re trying to edge in on my interview?”
“No!” Harrington groaned, rolling his eyes. “I just think you put all this...thought into this, and maybe he’s just helping out, you know, like anybody. Like if somebody calls the police on a purse snatcher, you don’t ask them why, or like, how much help they’re gonna be in future—”
“He wears a cape,” Billy pointed out. “He put a goddamn cape on, and he’s wearing some kind of themed onesie, and he says stuff like ‘Hello, innocent bystander,’ and that’s all weird as hell, so he better answer some questions. This isn’t somebody who was just there—he came on purpose, and he doesn’t want people to know who he is, or he’d talk to me—”
“Heroes wear capes!” Harrington argued, rolling his eyes again. “Maybe it’s a little creepy when you ambush people. On the roof of the police station.”
“We gotta call him something,” Billy told him, rolling his eyes. “He can answer my questions, or he can have every investigator in three cities trying to figure out his angle. He’ll be a police file five inches thick by this weekend.”
“Oh no,” Harrington said, wide-eyed, and Billy snorted.
“The hell d’you care?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “You think he’s a moron who calls himself Lazerbeamy Strongman.”
“No,” Harrington said quickly, grimacing. “No, I just, uh. It’d...it’d suck if he’s just...trying to help.”
“If he’s just trying to help, he can give me something reassuring to publish, even if it’s just that he’s calling himself ‘Mr. Neato McCheeto’. People need to hear that he’s not going to use those laser eyes to shoot planes out of the sky.”
“Fuck you, he’s helping,” Harrington said sullenly, covering a snicker.
When Billy left for lunch, he bought the guy one of the badly painted caped bobbleheads already circulating the city, and left it on his desk.
“Oh no,” he heard Harrington say in horrified tones when he found it.
The third time Billy caught the new superhero, he was flying everyone to the tops of buildings. “Oh, fuck you,” Billy groaned, his body held in strong arms while his hands investigated the texture of the cape.
“She turned the ground into actual lava,” the shithead hissed at him. “I’ll get you down when you can walk without turning into a pillar of flame.”
“You better be back within the hour, or I will step off the edge,” Billy threatened, and the shithead groaned. “What’s your cape made of?” Billy yelled after him.
“I’ll come get you,” the shithead yelled back, and Billy sat down to wait, and write some preliminary scene setting. Metropolis’ newest hero shuffles a street of pedestrians onto the roofs of buildings in under a minute, before emptying the cars. Below him, Shithead was dodging around, trying to talk to the small child waving a wand and spraying lava.
Shithead did reappear, though, within the hour. He wasn’t even panting or sweating, and Billy eyed him with extreme dislike. He took the other people down, and Billy yelled threats after him, fully expecting to get stranded again, but Shithead flew back up and floated in front of him, his arms folded like Billy was supposed to be impressed.
“I’ll answer your questions,” he muttered, glowering.
“What’s your name,” Billy asked, wasting no time, because the wind on the skyscraper was sliding through his coat like he was naked. He shivered, turtling deeper into his scarf, and Shithead reached out, his hand twitching towards Billy.
“We—I can take you somewhere else? Somewhere warmer,” he offered awkwardly.
“Somewhere there’s coffee,” Billy growled, and the shithead laughed, grinning at him, and then stepped close to lift Billy again, but didn’t do it.
He just stood so close Billy could feel him breathing, holding his arms up like a scarecrow, and Billy groaned and turned to put his arms around the neck of a goddamn superhero and got scooped up like he was a damsel in distress. He sighed, disgusted, as Shithead took them back to the Daily Planet, dropped down past the roof, and landed them on the glassed-in balcony where Billy went when it was a choice between 1) smoke or 2) commit homicide.
Billy stared. “Have you been watching me,” he hissed, and the damn hero raised his hands.
“There’s coffee here,” he said, grimacing, and Billy stalked past him, by Harrington’s desk—the slacker was missing, and Billy snorted dismissively, and then remembered not everyone had had a ride back through the freezing wind. He shivered so hard as he poured the coffee he nearly spilled it, and whispered a brief prayer to Saint Drogo, patron saint of coffee and the insane, for his intervention in saving Billy’s water of life. The first sip told him it had been sitting on the burner, and his tongue curled in his mouth, his nose wrinkling, but he could feel it warming his veins and brain.
Shithead was still waiting on the balcony, frowning out over the city, and Billy watched him, taking another sip of the acrid coffee.
“Why d’you float like that,” he asked, and the weirdo blinked at him.
“Oh, um,” he said, frowning down, and reddening. “Uh, is this...on the record?”
“...not if you say it isn’t,” Billy said, leaning back into a creaky plastic chair, and putting his feet up on another.
“This outfit is sturdy enough to not burn up, but the feet get dirty if I walk,” Shithead said, grimacing.
“Your footie pajamas get dirty if you walk outside,” Billy said flatly, sighing. “This is an amazing start. On the record now—what’s your name, hero?”
“Oh! Ummm,” he said, wincing.
“Christ,” Billy groaned, pinching his brows together.
“"I'm...very...strong...ness..." the moron trailed off, and Billy stared at him.
“Try again,” he said.
“My sidekick—”
“You have a sidekick,” Billy interrupted, holding his pen up. “Nobody’s seen a sidekick.”
“He tells me when things happen, so I can help. He doesn’t go out there,” Shithead said, looking horrified, and for once sounding reasonable.
“Ah. Carry on,” Billy said, writing sidekick?? in the margin to address later.
“He thinks I should go by Encyc—oh, no,” he slapped a fist into his hand in realization, “It was Atlas,” the unnamed hero said, and Billy narrowed his eyes.
“Fair enough,” he said, about to ask why that didn’t out-rate ‘Very Strongness’, but the shithead crossed his arms with a huff.
“It makes no sense, I’m not a book,” he said, and Billy stared at him.
“You’re exactly the moron he thought you were,” he said disbelievingly. “You’re an idiot.”
“Hey! I—I just—I saved you from lava,” Shithead protested. “I saved you from a falling bus!”
“We gotta workshop this,” Billy said, groaning into his hands. “I’ll help you, because you did do all those things. And more to the point, I can’t make every news agent in the city say something that stupid every time you’re in the news.”
“What about Superguy,” the hero asked, leaning in enthusiastically. “Great...dude? Mister Awesome!”
“Fuck my life,” Billy sighed, laughing in despair. “What about something based on your powers—”
“Muscle-lasers! Musclasers?” the idiot suggested excitedly, and Billy smacked himself in the face again.
“What about just like...Knight Errant. You’ve got that kind of...shield shape on your chest—”
“Oooo,” Shithead said, floating closer, and Billy put a foot up and nudged him further away. “Because just Knight could get confusing, huh, like on the radio,” he said, and Billy wondered whether he did have a brain, and it just shorted out, like, most of the time. Maybe it was the lasers.
“D’you want to see the sunset,” Knight Errant asked, and Billy blinked at him. “You’re off work, right? I promise I won’t run, I’ll answer your questions,” he said, grimacing. “But...do you? The sunset over the city?”
As a career reporter in Metropolis, Billy could hardly refuse, and he tried to remind his libido of that while he lay cradled in strong arms, warm against Knight Errant’s chest, watching the sun set and the lights come on all over his city.
He was close enough to hear the hero’s stomach growl, and they got sandwiches from a street cart to chomp on during the interview. After that, Knight Errant flew them to a small loft apartment on the edge of the industrial district, and Billy wandered around trying the faucets, fascinated by how normal it all was.
“My apartment’s off the record, right?” Knight Errant asked, with belated nervousness.
“Yeah, sure,” Billy laughed. “I protect my sources. So. You...get hungry?” Billy asked, watching him put away enough food for four people.
“I’m just a person,” Knight Errant muttered, wiping mustard off his chin. He’d taken his cape off, and pushed the onesie down to his waist. In the dim light of the city, he looked familiar, though Billy couldn’t place him—and attractive, the shadows on his abs and arms making him look like he’d been painted in chiaroscuro.
It felt like a date, was the thing.
“Search and rescue does have my number, or a way to get ahold of me, anyway.” Knight Errant sighed. “There’s nowhere in the outfit for a phone. I mean, it’d melt, anyway, first time I flew into a burning building,” he pointed out, and Billy nodded slowly, talking to a hero about his revealing costume, and wondering whether he’d been sucked into the Twilight Zone.
“There sure isn’t anywhere to hide anything,” he agreed, remembering.
“Sometimes I don’t help them,” Knight Errant confessed. “—but I can’t—I help where I can. I have to sleep too.”
“You sleep?” Billy asked, cocking his head at the shadowy king-sized bed in the corner. He wondered whether the moron had different-patterned footie pajamas to sleep in, possibly with sheep on them. And a woolly sheep cape.
“I sleep. I have a job,” the man sighed.
“Thanks for saving me from the lava,” Billy said, belatedly. “And I...probably would’ve been crushed by that bus.”
“Anytime,” the hero of Billy’s city said, stepping close with a grin. “You have to be more careful. I’d hate to lose my favorite reporter.”
“You talk to all the others already?” Billy asked, laughing, his heart pounding as he stepped closer.
“Nah. I know it’ll always be you,” the moron said, grinning with an incomprehensible mixture of mischief and sweetness, and Billy kissed him.
The next morning, Billy hitched a ride to work in the arms of his superhero. He took the time to straighten his jacket and tie after the wind, and found Harrington at his desk, holding a mug of coffee, his eyes huge and weird in the absurdly thick glasses.
“Had a good night?” he asked, smugly, and Billy shot him a suspicious glare, and flipped him off.
Here’s the rest of my Harringrove (and everything else)
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theymetinargentina · 3 years
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All the Stars | H.S. Imagine
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Comments and requests are always welcomed:)
Masterlist
Summary: domestic Harry, husband!Harry, all that jazz
Warnings: Smut
Word count: 1.8k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Moonlight continued to cascade on his back. He had a concentrated look on his face as he tried to get the thing i begged for to work. “I can’t get this fuckin’ thing to work.” he scroffed.
“Harry you have to twist it,” I said while looking over the manual.
“I only do this for you my darlin’,” he peered back at me and gave me the cheekiest grin.
“I know you’re only saying that to get in my pants,” I rolled my eyes
“Absolutely not,” he sounded genuinely hurt, “Plus I wouldn’t even need to do that.” he grinned.
“Is that so?” I raised my eyebrow and chuckled.
“You’d come crawling on your knees for my baby.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, hurry and finish I want to see.” I stood up and walked to where Harry continued to work at the telescope.
He stepped back, “It looks like it should work,” yet he sounded unsure.
“Alright I trust you, now shoo.”
“Hey! I built the bloody thing, I would also like to see ‘all the stars’,” he teased with a grin. I merely scoffed at him and peered through the lens, letting out a small gasp.
“It looks beautiful Harry,” I exclaimed.
I moved to allow him a glimpse of the night sky.
“Fuckin’ hell, you can see everything,” he squited and hunched over the telescope while I hugged him from behind.
“We should get inside and get the table set for dinner.” I say into his back.
A few friends were coming over to celebrate a recent promotion I had gotten at work. Harry was estatic and insisted we have a celebration. Which meant we now had to finish cooking and get ready for guests. Something Harry wasn’t particularly fond of when having guest over.
“Just a minute, I wanna stay outside with you for a bit.” He hums. It was dark and there was a slight nip to the air but our warmth combined was enough for us.
He turned around and returned the hug. His warmth enveloping me whole. My check to his chest, I could hear and feel his heart beating. Even after all this years, through every argument, I can’t believe the amount of love I have for this man. Everything he does amazes me, the kindness and gentleness he has never stops surprising me. I truly don’t think he understands how big of a gift he is the world. How in awe we- his family, friends and even fans- constantly are of him. I don’t think he realizes how many people he has, and continues, to save. The fact that he does it all without asking anything in return for himself, somehow makes him so much admirable. ———————————————————— “I’ll take the plate, don’t worry about it,” I say as I grab his plate and take it to the sink. Not before he sneaks a slap to my ass.
When I turn to look at him, he has the cheekiest grin ever and giggles like a teenage boy.
I can’t help the smile that makes it’s way onto my face.
“I couldn’t help myself,” he grins, “especially not when you’re wearing a skirt that short.”
“Don’t slut shame me, you asshole,” I snap back playfully
“Baby I want you to dress slutty in front of me,” he hugs me from behind and slowly push’s his groin into my backside, “it makes my dick rock hard.”
I mhmm in acknowledgment. I decide to tease him back and slowly start to move my hips.
He groans and starts placing sloppy kisses along my neck, “babyyyy, if you keep doing that I’m gonna take you right here.”
“Do it,” I moan when he starts trailing his hand down my stomach.
Just when he’s about to reach the button of my jeans the door bell rings.
“Fuck,” he all but growls.
I laugh, “relax baby we’ll have time later.” I wink as I go to answer the door
“You absolute tease,” I hear him say.
—————————————-
We’re all three drinks in and it’s clear everyone’s starting to feel it. Harry is telling the story of the renovation we recently had done in the guest room, to which Jeff and Glenne listen to intently.
“Seriously, I’ll give you both the number to the company that did our flooring,” I say to them.
They turn their heads and smile at me, “That would be wonderful, thank you,” glenne says with a grateful smile.
Despite our time together, being around Harry’s friends never fails to make me nervous. I think a part of me is worried if they don’t like me, what Harry would do. Surely he’d pick his best friend and manager over a girl, right? My thoughts are interrupted when my close friend Mae asks Harry a question.
“Renovations in a new house, but no ring?” She has a playful tone and everyone laughs but Harry and I both look at each other slightly panicked.
It’s not that we didn’t want people to know that we had gotten married. But the constant questions and pestering became a drag to deal with. Which is why we choose to instead elope with only our familys knowledge. It was beyond lovely being able to experience the first few months of our marriage without the constant unwanted attention from everyone.
It was a secret between the two of us, something that made our love all the more special.
Harry takes a deep breath and looks over the Mae, “it’ll happen soon, don’t worry,” he grins.
“I’ve told you a thousand times Mae, we’ll go to a courthouse and that’s it,” I smile, knowing this is where we constantly lost everyone in our marriage plans.
Harry and I didn’t want the big wedding everyone dreams of. We were content with signing a paper and vowing to love each other.
“I love you both, but you kill me everytime you remind me,” Mae exclaims with a small smile.
Everyone begins chatting about weddings, in what I assume to be an attempt to change our minds.
After a few more drinks and a long discussion about what our next gathering will be focused on, our guests excuse themselves and leave one by one. ————————————— Up stairs, Harry and I began to get ready for bed. He managed to tuck himself into bed already while I wiped all my makeup off.
“I don’t know if I should keep letting my bread grow?” He wondered out loud.
“Yes!” I agreed a little too loudly, Harry’s facial hair was the source of most of our disagreements. While he preferred to stick to shaven or minimal stubble, I preferred his full grown beard.
He knowingly smirked, “I’ll keep it if it means I get to spend all day with my head between your thighs.”
“You won’t hear me complainin’ “ I mumbled.
“I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you?” He jokingly leaned foward in an attempt to look at me.
I turned off the light and walked toward our bed. Before sit at the end of it.
While crawling, “ I said I won’t complain about you spending all day between my thighs.”
He grinned again, “is that so?”
“Yup.”
I reached my hand under the covers and began to palm him over his sweatpants. He started placing kisses along my neck and jawline. When I gave a rather hard squeeze he groaned and looked at me, “I’m gonna cum in my pants.”
“And we couldn’t possibly have that hmm?”
“Absolutely not, I want to cum in your tight cunt.”
I moaned at his words and pulled him to get out from under the covers. He pushed me onto my back and began grinding his hips on mine. I reached for the bottom of his shirt and lifted it off him. While he broke away I began to strip off my bottoms and top.
He let out a growl when he saw I wasn’t wearing a bra and immediately began sucking on the area around my nipples.
“Harry..” I moaned
“Tell me baby” he replied, “tell me what you want daddy to do?”
“I want daddy to fuck me.” I boldly said
It’s light a switch flipped in Harry and he practically tore off my lace thong.
I  pulled his underwear off and his erection sprung up immediately.
I almost drooled at the sight of his red tip dripping pre cum. I laid back down while slowly pumping him.
He threw his head back and gave the most angelic moan I have ever heard. The sight of Harry completely subbmissive to my hand was quite possibly the biggest turn on.
He wasted in no time and lined himself up, kissing me roughly and slowly easing in.
“Oh fuck...” I threw my head back in pleasure.
No matter how many times we had sex, Harry’s size never failed to surprise me.
“Shit baby you’re so tight,” he bit his lip and began thrusting roughly.
Our pants and skin slapping was the only noise  in the room. A noise that had become a regular occurrence.
“Harder Harry.....fuck..”
“Yeah baby? You like rough? Like it when daddy fucks you with his cock?” He smirked and picked up his pace. He trailed his hand up from my thighs and wrapped them around my throat lightly.
“Mmmm....” was all I managed to get out.
He pressed his body on top of mine and bottomed out making me moan out loudly. I raked my nails down his back, knowing the marks would be there tomorrow.
He placed a kiss below my ear sending a wave of pleasure throughout me.
“Wanna get on top and ride my cock darlin’ ?” He whispered.
I nodded feverishly and pushed him to lay on his back.
I straddled him and grabbed his length lining him up, slowly sinking down. We both dropped our heads and moaned at the feeling of him being balls deep in me.
“Fuck, baby you’re cunt feels so good.”
“Mmm you like it?” I asked
“I fuckin love it.” I began moving my hips back and forth and then bouncing up and down; trying to find a rhythm that would push us over the edge.
My thighs began to burn so I placed my chest on Harry’s and he took that as his signal to do his part. He began thrusting up into me at a merciless pace. ‘Oh fuck’ was the only words I could seemingly get out, while Harry resorted to merely grunting.
I could feel him twitching inside me and knew he was close.
I began kissing all along his jaw and whispered in his ear, “cum in me, Harry, cum in your cunt.” This was all he needed as he bottomed out and groaned loudly.
I felt his thick ropes of cum coat inside of me. This pushed me over the edge, making me twitch on top of Harry and cry out.
I felt him soften but neither of us made any move. Our breaths were slowly going back to normal.
Finally I slowly eased off of him, whimpering at the feeling of being empty.
“Fuck, y/n, what the hell was that?” He chuckled.
“It was thank you, for everything.” I smiled.
“I love you.” “I love you.”
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Moonberry Wishes (Ruthari Week 2021 #2)
Pairing: Ruthari
Rating: T
Tags: post-coin Runaan, Runaan pulls an Eljaal, belated reunion, angry Ethari, all the feels, angst, fluff, i missed you, toppy Ethari, Runaan is never gonna be ready to hear about Rayllum
Prompt: Leaving/Returning
Moonberry Wishes
The clang of sword on shield snapped Runaan out of his morning meditation. His eyes opened on the now-familiar view of the rocky slopes of eastern Duren, their golden stone bleached with early morning sunlight. Squinting against the light, Runaan tracked the sound of battle, snatched up his bowblade, and hurled himself off the high stone ledge where he’d made secure camp the night before. The descent to the narrow pass a few hundred meters below wasn’t difficult for one with his skills, and he leaped easily from boulder to boulder as he descended past the timber line toward the old trade road.
The faint flicker of a small cooking fire at the edge of the road caught his eye as he targeted a cluster of figures at the far edge of the road. Someone had camped there in the night, and he hadn’t heard a thing! The assassin tossed his confusion aside and leaped down, skidding dramatically through a cloud of fine pale dust shot through with angled sunbeams, expecting the attackers to turn and run, or possibly turn and stare. To acknowledge his arrival, at the very least--he was a Moonshadow elf, and making himself known on purpose was a rare treat.
But no one did. Not even the traveler he’d rushed in to rescue. The man stood still, his back to Runaan, the hood of his cloak pulled up.
Runaan blinked mid-skid and reassessed, fingers tense on his bowstring.
Half a dozen bandits had clearly attempted to besiege this man. Yet three of them lay sprawled in the dust already, and one hung by his belt from a broken tree limb three meters off the ground. As Runaan skidded in, another bandit got shoved backward through the air and plopped into a muddy patch in the woods with a squelch.
Runaan sought the last bandit as he battled his surprise. He seemed to have found the one human who could hold his own as well as an assassin against half a dozen attackers. He finally spotted the greasy man when his head rose up over the traveler’s hood, caught in the would-be victim’s grip as he was bodily lifted into Runaan’s line of sight by the front of his shirt. The traveler’s other arm dropped to his side, revealing a small round silvery shield strapped to his forearm.
Runaan reassessed again, casting his gaze around the small campsite, seeking clues as to who this strange paradox of a person was.
The traveler had camped in the most foolish location, right where any passing rogue could find him. Yet he’d somehow managed to set up his camp silently in the night. He carried no sword, but he’d bested half a dozen desperate humans with a small shield. His campfire was expertly laid, but the aroma that rose from it was one of stewing fruits.
Runaan’s eyes narrowed. He suddenly doubted that this stranger had ever needed his help at all.
“I have a question for you,” the traveler huffed to his captive, catching his breath from their quick scuffle. “And if you answer me truthfully, you can be on your way.” His voice was soft velvet over cold steel, and its gentle brogue stabbed Runaan in the gut with an icicle made of all the frozen feelings he’d tried to ignore for nearly a year.
The world telescoped around him, streaking past his vision with dizzying speed. His freedom from the coin, his shame and uncertainty over failing half his mission, the strange sense of mourning he felt over feeling his blood oath breaking with his supposed death, his decision to wander in search of new purpose instead of returning home and learning he’d been ghosted. His honor had always been vital to his identity, and he hadn’t been ready to face the risk of having it stripped away despite his best and most dutiful intentions. Three seasons had passed since he’d turned his boots toward the west, and not one step had landed on Xadian soil.
But apparently Xadia had grown tired of waiting for him. This stranger was no human. This stranger didn’t sound like a stranger, either.
Runaan’s breath burst from his mouth in a single disbelieving gasp. “Ethari?”
The traveler dropped his bandit like a discarded cloak and spun to face Runaan. His silvery shield thudded to the dirt unheeded. Warm brown eyes blazed out at the errant assassin from beneath a dark blue hood edged with locks of long black hair, and his dark skin was unmarked by blue Moonshadow paint. He also sported five fingers on each hand.
Runaan let out a soft grunt of pain. This man wasn’t his--
The traveler’s mouth fell open in surprise at the sight of the Moonshadow before him. A quick hand flicked back his hood, and a pale shimmering spell rippled across his body.
Runaan’s eyes widened even further.
The Moon spell danced around the traveler’s hidden features, revealing elf horns, cheek markings, shoulder swirls. His black hair became shaggy and white, and his eyes warmed to a soft sunset, just as wide as Runaan’s were.
The elves stared at each other in shock. To the side, the discarded bandit scrambled to his feet and hesitantly edged away, his gaze darting between the safety of the forest and the big elf who had flicked him aside.
“Never mind,” Ethari told him in a faint voice, eyes locked onto Runaan. “I found him.”
The bandit nodded eagerly as if he’d actually been of help. He gathered up his foolhardy compatriots, and together the humans bolted without a backward glance.
Runaan tracked him with a tense stare until he was out of sight before he let himself drink in the sight of his precious craftsman from head to toe. Tension he’d been holding for nearly a year began to ease from his shoulders. “Ethari.” His voice was a tentative prayer.
“Runaan.” Ethari’s voice was faint, too.
The assassin’s eyes dropped to the shield. Its edge was rimmed with all the phases of the Moon. Runaan wondered briefly how many enchantments Ethari had crammed into its swirlies. “You’re fighting?” he murmured.
“I’m on a mission,” Ethari corrected breathlessly. His chest was still heaving, but Runaan suspected it was for a different reason now.
Runaan felt the first hints of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t smiled since the Silvergrove, but Ethari always had a way of--
Ethari’s brows lowered sharply. “To find Xadia’s biggest dumbass.”
Runaan’s eyes widened. “What?”
With a growl, Ethari charged at him. Runaan managed to drop his bowblade safely into a nearby fern before Ethari seized him by the front of his shirt and backed him up against a nearby tree trunk. Runaan gripped his husband’s wrists and braced for impact, wincing as his horn tip clattered against the rough bark. His toes slipped on an angled root and dangled in the air as Ethari pinned him easily in place. Runaan’s eyes danced from his husband’s furious eyes to his bulging deltoids to his aggressive stance to his fingers knotting in Runaan’s shirt to the way those two soft locks of hair always fluttered right in the middle of his forehead, and finally managed to focus on his mouth, which had been pouring an angry stream of words past his ears for several seconds.
“--where the fuck have you been? Why didn’t you come home? I thought you were dead! Or lost! Or hurt! Or captured again! I was worried sick! Did you ever think about that? Did you?”
Runaan opened his mouth to stammer a reply.
Ethari’s question was apparently rhetorical. He bulled onward: “I gave Rayla your lotus in a jar of water from the pool, and she said she’d bring you back to me. And she started to promise me, and do you know what I did, Runaan? Do you? I stopped her. I couldn’t take another broken promise from an assassin standing beside my ritual pool. I couldn’t take it. So I sent her off without it, and I started to hope again. And the full Moon came, and went, and I couldn’t sleep a wink, for days and days. I waited! I waited for you, you shadowsaken idiot!”
Runaan couldn’t look away. The full force of Ethari’s rage and sorrow poured into his eyes and slammed against his chest, leaving him breathless. “I…”
Ethari wasn’t nearly done, though. “And then Rayla returned to the Silvergrove, with Lain and Tiadrin and Callum and Ezran and the Queen of the Sunfire Elves and her human girlfriend--”
“Her what?” Runaan blurted.
“--and she had to tell me to my face that you’d run away,” Ethari continued. “Left in the night. Bolted. Scarpered. Fled, like some kind of coward. She had to say those words to me, and she had to watch me crumple to the floor and fall apart, again!” He checked Runaan against the tree a second time. “Again, Runaan!” Another shove. “I fell apart again!” And another. “How many times am I going to let you destroy my heart before I’ve had enough?” Furious tears spilled down Ethari’s cheeks and lost themselves in his markings.
“N-No…” Runaan’s whispered denial shivered into a sudden sob. Ethari’s angry slams barely registered compared to the pain of seeing his tears. His fingers fluttered toward Ethari’s cheeks, aching to wipe away the sorrow he’d caused. “I’m so sor--”
Ethari pulled him away from the tree and slammed him back against it with more force, interrupting Runaan’s gesture. “I’m not finished!” he roared. “Don’t you dare be soft with me before I’ve gotten this off my chest! I’ve been carrying it alone for ten months and I’ll be bloodcursed if I let you stop me from unloading every last word now that I’ve found you, do you hear me?”
Half terrified, half dazzled at the raw power in Ethari’s voice, Runaan could only nod mutely and cling to his husband’s wrists for dear life.
“Good!” Ethari yelled. He panted heavily for a few breaths, staring Runaan in the eye with a baleful glare, before asking in a slightly less aggressive tone, “Alright, now where was I?”
A distant light dawned in Runaan’s heart, and his brows lifted softly. “You were asking me how many times you were going to let me destroy your heart before you’ve had enough,” he supplied gently.
Ethari’s fists tightened in Runaan’s shirt. He slowed his breathing and swallowed, and when he spoke, his voice was merely resentful. “Right. Yes. Thank you.”
Runaan felt one of his own tears escape over the edge of his cheek. His heart was absolutely thrumming with Ethari’s presence. His warmth, his strength, the smell of his breath, the shivering rumble of his voice--Runaan was nearly delirious with so much enchanting proof of his husband’s existence right there in front of him. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, relaxing in Ethari’s grip. When he opened them again, they lingered on Ethari’s hands for a long moment, and he gave his husband’s wrists a long, fervent squeeze. “You’re welcome,” he murmured.
“No, don’t you do that, don’t you be soft and handsome when I’m angry at you,” Ethari protested grumpily. He set Runaan on his feet and checked him lightly against the tree with a quick press of his fingertips.
Runaan let out a soft grunt as his back connected with the bark again. “I keep asking you to tell me how to stop doing that, but you never have.”
Ethari glared balefully at him, and his lip curled once again. But then his bottom lip shivered, and his face crumpled into longing. He cupped Runaan’s head in his hands, bringing their foreheads together with a soft bump and pressing hard. One hand wound into Runaan’s hair, and the other encircled his shoulders, pulling him tightly against Ethari’s chest until their noses brushed tips. “You utter idiot. I missed you,” Ethari breathed, so softly Runaan almost didn’t catch it.
Uncertain but needy, Runaan slipped his hands inside Ethari’s cloak and gripped the back of his broad belt, pulling their bodies flush. He waited, silent, soaking up every heartbeat of this soft, precious, long-awaited contact with his beloved.
“I stayed, for a while.” Ethari’s words rode just above a whisper, and their warmth brushed Runaan’s lips. “For Lain and Tiadrin, and for Rayla. But they knew. They knew. They knew before I did.”
Runaan’s fingers squeezed tighter, clinging, needing to hear the rest but fearing the truth of the pain his absence had caused.
“I didn’t know where to begin, but Rayla helped me. And so did King Ezran, and Prince Callum, and Queen Aanya, and Lujanne, too. I started wandering, following stories of a shadowy hero who always saved people from danger and vanished into the night. No one ever admitted to getting a good look at him, no one remembered his words. They just knew they owed him their lives.”
Runaan huffed in wry amusement. He’d thought he was changing his life entirely, and yet his husband had known him in an instant, merely from stories of his minor exploits. “I can’t ever hide from you, can I?”
“I could recognize you by touch alone,” Ethari breathed, “by smell. I would know you blind, by the way your breaths came and your feet struck the earth. I would know you in death, at the end of the world.”
A wry smile lifted one corner of Runaan’s mouth. “I think we’ve been.”
Ethari cupped Runaan’s cheeks softly and gave him a steady look. “You made me a promise, Runaan, to return my heart to me.”
“I did.”
“But I had to go looking for it myself.”
Runaan’s gaze dropped. “You did.”
Ethari gently lifted his chin with a finger until their eyes met again. “Well? I’m here now.”
Runaan’s brows twitched down. “But… I failed you. I destroyed it, with my carelessness and my pride. You just asked me--”
Ethari pressed his finger against Runaan’s lips. “I asked you how many times. I know. Because it’s happened more than once. I know that, too. Yes, I’m angry with you. But I didn’t hike all over Garlath’s green earth just to tell you to stuff it, you great stupid moonberry.”
“What did you hike all over Garlath’s green earth to tell me, then?” Runaan asked, half afraid of the answer.
“I’m a Master Craftsman, Runaan. You should remember well how many weapons I’ve repaired for you over the years, because it’s been a lot. And I’ve repaired other things for you, too. Your feelings. Your body. Your own heart.”
Runaan went still under Ethari’s touch as a frenetic parade of memories streaked past his mind’s eye. Ethari’s soft words, soft touch, soft kisses, ten thousand times over. Overcome, he pressed his cheek into his husband’s hand and nodded, feeling hot tears slipping past his lashes.
“I’m not a Master Craftsman for nothing. I can repair anything I choose to. Anything at all,” Ethari continued softly. He leaned his forehead against Runaan’s again. “And I choose to repair my own heart when you break it. I choose. To re-pair my heart. With yours.”
Runaan laughed through a sob at his husband’s pun and slid gentle arms around his husband, reassuring himself of his husband’s warm, solid strength.
Ethari sighed in relief at Runaan’s gesture. “I hiked all over Garlath’s green earth to choose you, again. But I need to know, Runaan… What do you choose?”
Runaan sought his husband’s warm sunset eyes and found them brimming with emotion. His own lip trembled at the sight of the pain he’d caused his most beloved. A thousand years of tradition flashed through his mind, its insistence foggy and distant without the pull of his lost oath. Without that urgency pounding through his own blood, there was only one thing he longed to be: with Ethari. With this elf whom he’d hurt, with this elf whom he was very sure he didn’t deserve.
He cupped his husband’s face and bared his heart for whatever fate awaited him. “You,” he said, through an ecstatic sob. “I choose you. Take this heart of yours back, Ethari, if you truly still want it. I did my best to keep it safe, but it deserved so much more care than I could give it… I did you wrong, my heart, so wrong, and I dare not make you any promises, but...” Runaan’s words faded to desperate puffs of breath that ghosted across Ethari’s lips as he leaned closer, drawn by the dizzyingly warm, solid presence of his precious husband. “My heart… I missed you, too...”
Ethari met him halfway, and he tasted as if they’d never been apart. They pulled each other close, full of eager hands and soft whimpers. Runaan’s head spun with the blessed ecstasy of his husband’s kisses, and he clung to Ethari’s sturdy shoulders for balance even as he pressed himself closer against him.
All those months apart suddenly seemed to be happening all at once, endless yet instantaneous. Runaan felt eight kinds of fool for letting his blasted honor get in the way of the love this glorious elf was determined to shower him with. With a soft cry, he buried his face against Ethari’s neck and threw his arms around his shoulders. Ethari wrapped him in a tight hug and rocked him slowly, humming into his hair.
“What do I do now?” Runaan murmured brokenly into Ethari’s purple scarf.
“Come home,” Ethari said promptly. He caressed Runaan’s cheek and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Come home.”
Runaan raised his head, accepting Ethari’s easy words as proof that he hadn’t been ghosted back in the Silvergrove. But in that quiet moment there in his husband’s arms, high in the mountains of Duren, he realized that, for the first time in his life, he didn’t care what the Silvergrove thought of him. Only Ethari’s regard mattered now. “You’re my home. And you’re right in front of me.”
His husband’s eyes lit with eager warmth, and a teasing lilt accompanied his sassy grin. “Then you’d better come here.”
Runaan bit his lip at his husband’s suggestive pun. “My camp’s just up the slope.”
Ethari took Runaan’s face in his hands, backed him gently against the tree again, and kissed him passionately. When he finally let Runaan up for air, he gasped, ��What in Garlath’s green earth makes you think I can wait that long?”
Some while later, the husbands ambled along the mountain road, hand in hand, with nowhere in particular to go. Ethari talked as lightly as he could of the things he had seen, and Runaan listened with a full heart and trod with a quiet and grateful step. His hand never left Ethari’s, needing constant reassurance that he was truly there beside him after so long, that he had truly come looking for his long-lost husband. That Runaan was worth searching for, despite all he had done.
If Ethari noticed the occasional tear of humble gratitude slipping over Runaan’s cheeks, he was kind enough not to draw attention to it. Instead, he easily shifted topics to give Runaan time to adjust, telling sweet anecdotes and dramatic retellings and recounting his brushes with powerful figures that Runaan already knew, and some he didn’t. He hopped and twirled and bowed in time with his stories, never once letting go of his wayward husband’s hand, spinning close for the occasional kiss as he always had.
“...and then the Tidebound ambassador arrived and caused quite a splash,” Ethari said as they crested a hill. A warm breeze wafted up from the valley below, ruffling Runaan’s side tails and Ethari’s scarf. “Literally, the elf shot himself out of the well! I could hear the humans yelping all the way back at the blacksmith’s shop. If it hadn’t been for Callum’s quick thinking, that first contact would’ve been quite the wet blanket! But he had everything sorted in minutes. Rayla’s truly chosen well, my heart.”
Runaan’s feet slowed. “Chosen well…?”
Ethari paused, wide-eyed. “Surely they told you when they freed you.”
Runaan’s eyes narrowed. “They mysteriously neglected to mention.”
"But why would she-?" To Runaan’s surprise, Ethari suddenly burst into snorting laughter. “Ah. Clever girl.”
“What?” Runaan asked, suspicious.
“I should’ve known what that wicked twinkle in her eye was about when I told her I’d come searching for you. She’s letting me do the mentioning for her, right now. She knows us too well, love.”
Runaan blinked. Rayla and the human prince? Together? The scheming young couple had left Ethari to search for his husband, and to unwittingly break the news of their courtship to him, knowing that Runaan would take such disturbing news best from the elf he loved most.
That didn’t mean he’d take it well.
“I’ll be right back.” Runaan spun on his heel, stalking directly toward Katolis.
Ethari planted his feet and towed Runaan right back around in front of him, though. He pulled the wayward assassin into his arms and kissed him right on his frown. “Welcome back! I missed you. Again.” His dark brows bent softly.
Runaan’s tense expression broke, and his eyebrows drifted high in dismay at what he’d just tried to do. He clung to Ethari’s muscled arms and pressed his forehead against his husband’s. “Moon help me, I am a great stupid moonberry.”
“Yes, you are. And I love you anyway.” Ethari’s embrace was gentle and warm.
Runaan pressed a soft kiss of apology against his husband’s lips and let it linger, soaking up Ethari’s patience. “Walk with me again, then, and…”
“And?”
Runaan took a deep breath and slid his fingers between his husband’s. “And... tell me of Callum. Apparently, I have quite a bit of catching up to do.”
Ethari grinned and nudged Runaan’s shoulder with his own. “As my moonberry wishes.”
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istadris · 2 years
Text
Highlights of our latest HotDQ session
Context : we just finished wiping out a cultist castle with the help of their former allies lizardfolk (who are now our allies), but there was still a couple of rooms to explore, during which I (Ancestral Barbarian Minotaur) triggered an acid trap ; we ended last session in an observatory with a magic telescope right as we were ambushed by gargoyles
I started the fight with 7 hp and was sure I was gonna die. I ended with ONE hp. Good I love rage resistance.
Fighter : “Don’t worry, if you end up unconscious, I’ll swing you around and hit the enemy with your horns” Me IC : *offended gasp* “Pardon ?? They’re MY horns!! And I didn’t give you my consent!! Get your own horns!!” [Cue five minutes of racial discourse]
Warlock at the beginning of the fight: “we should take the fight elsewhere to avoid breaking the telescope” Ranger immediately after : *climbs on the telescope to get in melee range with the flying gargoyles* Fighter : *casts Booming Blade all over the place until a gargoyle explodes right above fragile parts* Warlock : “...a good thing I asked to not break the telescope.”
Warlock explains that she’s a Shadar-Kai from the Shadowfell and that she has a “““sponsor”““ granting her powers. Me IC : “Wait, is that why cultists keep calling you nasty names?” Warlock: “well, they’re also assholes.” Me : “But I thought they were assholes in general, not specist assholes!”
DM : “Your ancestor’spirit parries the gargoyle’s attack completely, preventing it from harming Ranger” Me : “Good ol’ grandpa Asterius!!”
“For the last time, do you or do you have not proficiency in Thieves’ Tools?” “I have a set of Thieves’ Tools.” “That’s not what I asked!!!!”
Me: “I’m asking the lizardfolk if they want to celebrate our victory over a good meal” DM : “They tell you they already feasted right after the battle while you were taking your short rest, and they ate most of the meat in stock” Our party : “aw...” DM : “...but after searching the kitchen, you find wine, beer  and a large cheese wheel” Our french asses : “IT’S FONDUE TIME BITCHES!!” DM: “it’s red wine, not white wine!!” Me : “doesn’t matter, it’s DnD, we’ll do”
We bonded over the fondue...and ended up having a bunch of insight checks at each other as secrets were finally spilled and some still kept hidden. Great bonding moment !
Warlock’s sprite familiar wanted to ride Fighter’s pseudodragon for a while but it always refused. During the fondue, she asked if she could perch on the head of Ranger’s wolf...and he allowed it, and it was fucking precious.
“To us, who are still alive and kicking. To the dead we honor through our battles. And to the many butts we’ll kick in the future !”
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mayans-sauce · 3 years
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Interstellar: Chapter 1
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Pairing: younger! EZ Reyes x Astra Beckett
Word Count: 1.9K
Warnings: cursing but other than that none.
Summary: Ezekiel and Astra get accepted into the space program. For context: both of them are 27 in this and EZ is more on the skinnier side to begin with.
Let me know if you want to be tagged/removed for this story!
GROUP CHAT for updates!
Introduction
Chapter 2
⭐️Interstellar Masterlist⭐️
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The Year 2052
Astra burst through the front door of the house, almost screaming at the top of her lungs, “IT CAME! IT CAME! Dad, it finally came.” Her dad got up from where he was working on the kitchen table. “From the academy?” “YES! We need to call EZ.”
Astra pulled out her laptop, calling EZ on a video call. He answered within a second. “I was just about to call. Did you get yours?” She held the big envelope in view. Felipe and Marisol were standing right beside their son, waiting for him to open up the envelope. “Let’s open them up and then read it at the same time,” EZ said. She could see the terrified look on his face; hers must look the same as well. This was the moment of truth, what both had been working towards for years. Tearing it open and pulling the letter out. “Alright, EZ, on three, and then we read it. Ready?” “1, 2, 3.”
Dear Astra Beckett,
The Celestial Academy would like to congratulate you on your place in our space program.
“WE GOT IN!” EZ and Astra exclaimed at the same time. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” Her dad embraced her hard and tight. A single tear was falling off his face. In the background, it could be heard EZ’s parents congratulating and hugging him as well. “What more does it say?” Felipe asked his son. EZ read the rest of the letter.
We would like to welcome you and your family for a tour of our top-class institution, where you will be getting an introduction to our one of a kind program, our teachers and teaching, our revolutionary technology, the dormitories, and so much more.
We can’t wait to make you a part of our family and spend the next five years with you, making you a one-of-a-kind astronaut.
“We did it, Astra.”
“We did it, Ezekiel.”
Packing a few clothes, some books, space-themed posters and decorations, her telescope her dad got her when she was ten years old and a few other things. She didn’t need a lot with her since this was a new chapter of her life, and she was sure she would buy a lot more stuff in the five years they would be there.
The next day
The next day they were early on their way. The drive to the academy wasn’t a long one. It was just 4 hours from Santo Padre. It was a nice little road trip for all. EZ’s brother Angel tagged along as well, who was also a good friend of Astra, so it was good that Felipe had space for all in his seven-seater car.
The Celestial Academy was like a little city, a city full of nerds and the newest technology in the world. Just getting into the area required special permission, and guards were standing at every campus entrance.
“Holy shit,” Astra and EZ said at the same time as they entered the gates with the car. The buildings stood tall and proud, different holograms showcasing the academy’s various aspects, hovering supply trucks moving from building to building with supplies, and so much more. It was so much to take in, and it would take a long time for them to get used to it all. Felipe parked the car at the visitor’s parking garage.
The walk up to the academy’s main building was short but long at the same time, with the nerves running through both of them. Astra could feel her heart almost jumping out of her chest with how fast it was beating. She grabbed EZ’s hand for comfort. “It’s gonna be fine. We can do this,” he comforted her. She knew she would be able to do this with her best friend by her side. “I know. I’m glad I have you by my side EZ.” He smiled at her, showing that he was grateful that she was here with him as well.
When they entered the building, they were welcomed with a big sign that said “Welcome New Recruits” written on it. They followed the rest of the people into the big speaking room where all the other recruits and their families were seated. The lights dimmed down, and the one and only founder of the academy walked out on stage and started speaking but not before getting a big welcome from everyone.
“Welcome recruits. My name is Damien, founder of this institution, and it is my pleasure to welcome you all here. When I started this program some 30 years ago, I didn’t think that it would turn out to be the best and most desirable space program in the entire world. But in the 30 years we have operated, around 200 individuals have become world-class astronauts with various specialties.” The room burst out in applause. “For the 30 of you that have made it into the program, I congratulate you for the hard work and sacrifice that has made it possible for you to have been accepted. But there is no time for celebrations yet. Not all of you will make it.” The room was dead silent now. “Almost 50% of you will buckle under the immense pressure of the program and leave within the first year. That’s when the real competition begins. Just 6 of you will be picked out for space travel after three years here and start the real training while the rest of you will be guaranteed education and a job at this institution. It’s going to be a hard five years, folks. The rest of the people on this campus, and I wish you good luck.” Damien got sent off with applause and hollering from everyone in the room. “Fuck, that was scary,” EZ whispered to Astra. “We can do this, Ezekiel. I know we can.” Now it was her turn to encourage and comfort him.
There was given some information about what was going to happen throughout the day. Free food, games, and a tour of the facilities was on the plan before eventually, all friends and family needed to leave.
Later in the day
After a fun last day with the family, it was time to say goodbye. Astras' dad tried his best not to cry, but he couldn’t help himself. His little girl was all grown up, and now her real journey would begin. “Dad… don’t cry… it's gonna be fine,” Astra hugged her old man as hard as she could. “I’m just so proud of you, my little star. Your mom would be so proud,” he said as he kissed her forehead. “Stop it, now I’m the one that’s crying.” “Just promise me you'll visit… I’ll be all sad and alone in the big house without you.” She nodded her head at him, “I promise I'll visit as much as I can… I promise, dad.” “Pinky promise?” Holding his pinky out for her to interlock with hers, she gladly did so, “I promise.”
“Come here, Ezekiel. My little astronaut,” Marisol hugged and kissed his cheek repeatedly. EZ loved his mom and the affection she would give him, but now it was kind of embarrassing since there were so many people. “Mom… mom.” “I’m sorry, baby. I’m just so proud of you, and I love you so much.” “I love you too, mom.” He gave her a final hug before he moved on to his dad. “Proud of you, son.” “Thanks, pop.” They gave each other a quick hug.
Last but not least, it was Angel’s turn to say his goodbyes. “Proud of you lil bro, you fucking space nerd.” “Shut up, Angel,” EZ said playfully before giving his big brother a big hug. “Don’t cause any trouble now that I’m not there.” Angel held his hands up in defence, “Hey, can’t promise anything.” EZ just shook his head at him.
Saying the last goodbyes to each other, and then they left, leaving Astra and EZ to watch them walk away. When they were out of sight, he turned towards her and grabbed her hand, “come on, let’s get settled into the dormitory.”
Astra walked into her assigned room and was greeted by the girl she was going to live with. She had already set up most of the stuff on her side of the room. The room was huge and spacious, and it even had a private bathroom. “Hi, I’m Mia, nice to meet you,” she reached out her hand, which Astra gladly accepted, “I’m Astra, it’s nice to meet you, Mia.” “I hope you don’t mind that I took the left side of the room.” “Go ahead, no problem.” They talked and got to know each other as they packed out their things and put them in place. Astra liked Mia a lot, they had a lot in common, and she knew that they would be great friends. “I can’t believe we are here; it’s so surreal,” Mia said as they got done packing out and sat on their beds. “I know, right! I’m afraid that I’ll wake up tomorrow, and it was all a dream,” Astra answered.
Before bed, all the recruits meet up with the teachers to get their plan for the next few upcoming weeks and the whole five-year plan as a whole. EZ was already buddies with his roommate, Mateo, and all 4 of them clicked immediately, already forming a good group and friendship of their own.
Later in the evening
Astra was trying her hardest to fall asleep; it was a big day tomorrow, the first official day ever, but her mind was racing like crazy, and she couldn’t get it to quiet down. She decided to get up and go out to the common room to take her mind off it for a while, sitting down by the window that overlooked the futuristic town. After a few minutes, footsteps could be heard, and she turned around to see who it was. Her frown turned into a smile when she saw him coming towards her.
“Couldn’t sleep?” EZ asked as he sat down beside her. She shook her head no, “my mind won’t shut up.” “Yeah, me neither.” They sat in silence for a few moments before EZ spoke up. “In 5 years, we will be up there,” he pointed towards the sky. “You don’t know that Ezekiel… there are 30 of us, and only 6 make it.” “I know we'll make it. We have each other, Astra, and you are the smartest girl I know. Even if I don’t make it, you will.” “You know I will never go if you aren’t going either.” “I know… but I will force you to go. Even if I have to push you in the spaceship myself.” Astra looked down on the floor, getting shy for a moment, “I know you will, Zeke.”
She started biting her nails, a habit she did when she felt nervous, and EZ knew that, he knew everything about her. “Hey, stop that,” EZ took her hand in his, “it's gonna be fine.” “It’s gonna be fine,” she repeated in a whisper.
They sat like that for a little while longer. Just holding each other’s hand and looking up towards the sky, getting prepared for the next five years of their life.
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Let me know what you think❤️
Interstellar Taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @yourwonkywriter @spnaquakindgdom @fuchszie @noz4a2
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eurydicees · 3 years
Text
thoughts on the musicals y’all recommended!
tysm for all the recs! i had so much fun listening to them, i really appreciate it! always feel free to rec more :)  
to preface, there’s no actual judging system. it’s all about the vibes. so, in the order that i listened to them: 
the mad ones
i already made a post abt this one, but i have to mention it again. i’ve been listening to it on repeat. like. straight up on a loop. 
i’m obsessed with this
the storyline is so put together, and you can really feel the heart of the show
the characters were well written (with the exception of the boyfriend tbh, i could have done without him), and i’m so fascinated by sam and kelly’s relationship (writers were cowards for making them not gay) 
the songs felt super cohesive, and the repeated drum loop was super well integrated. the sound techie in me is fascinated by the way this show was put together, and i’d love to see it performed (like. fr. i was getting ideas for the design. which is always so much fun) 
19.75/10
romeo es julia
holy shit this slaps
costumes were weird
but the music was brilliant
some of the captioned lyrics were ???? bad translation or bad lyrics??? but the sound was incredible so i don’t even care 
mercutio and tybalt were spot on
the moms were GREAT. i LOVED their voices, like. could FEEL the emotions, even if i didn’t know wtf they were saying 
pretty much everyone was like that, like idk what’s going on via words, but i def can feel it, which is the best kind of song
my mother didn’t like this one but whatever, she didn’t get to see the choreo that went with it so what does she know 
the SET. the LIGHTS. the SOUND. the SET. the LIGHTS. the SOUND. chef’s kiss. 
14/10 
ordinary days
eh
i liked “favorite places” and “beautiful” a lot, but the rest of the songs were only okay
i wasn’t super attached to the characters and the singing was just. like. okay for me. i didn’t love any of them in particular 
my mother also didn’t like this one, rip. she has a lot of opinions on musicals. 
6/10
venice
oh my fucking god???????? 
not what i expected at all. right from the first lines i was like. 😲😲😲 
like. this was so good??? wtf???? hamilton meets shakespeare meets the mechanisms meets les mis meets post-9/11 politics meets dystopia. i thought it couldn’t be done, but here i am, in awe
i was going to include some favorite lines but. it’s just all of them. ALL of them. 
further confirmation that i’m in love with jennifer damiano. 
also angela polk?? incredible 
it’s weird bc it’s so clearly Not Broadway Music, but it’s also not trying to be, which i enjoy. i can see why some critics hated it (read some really funny reviews lmao), but i really loved the sound (haven’t seen the show, though, and that’s half of a musical, so maybe gonna try and find a bootleg) 
18.99/10
count of monte cristo 
damn from the overture this was. Intense. like. damn. i’m a slut for any dies irae sequence, so i was a big fan of that
that being said. gonna be real. i had no idea what was happening throughout the entire musical. it’s a pretty music-light show, so that’s probably why? 
maybe it would make more sense if i watched a performance rather than just listening to the soundtrack??? idk. anyone got a bootleg? 
thomas borchert has a nice voice. very distinctive. googled him to see where else i can listen to him. he was rum tum tugger. anyways. mad respect for this man
sonically, it didn’t feel like a very cohesive show? like it felt like there were a lot of diff vibes going around
lots of good songs for my evil musicals playlist though 
11/10 
once on this island (2017 revival)
ok turns out musicals are a lot better when sung by professionals than by sixth graders who think they can belt even tho their voices are still cracking 
also turns out that stories can be much more complex and interesting-- and have much deeper themes of racism and classism-- when on broadway than when in a sweaty middle school auditorium in an upper middle class white neighborhood 
funny how that works, huh 
i’m still a little unsure abt it, and probably wouldn’t listen to it just because i can, but i definitely don’t object to it anymore 
ty for making me give it a second try 
hailey kilgore is brilliant in this
the singing in general is REALLY impressive and beautiful 
12.68/10 
death note
i cannot express enough in words how mad i am that i actually liked this
genuinely don’t know how to feel 
i do think that i would get more out of it if i watched the anime, but it was still pretty easy to follow, just knowing the premise 
idk who the cast is bc i found a weird shady playlist on spotify rather than a cast recording, but the girl’s voice (idk character names) was beautiful. “i’ll only love you more” was SO good
reminded me a little of jekyll and hyde? which? huh
also i’m now getting tik tok videos with audio from this musical can my iphone stop stalking me for ONE second
fucking unfair that this is actually a good soundtrack. the desire to find a bootleg is unholy. 
14.87/10 
35mm
why did no one tell me that alex brightman is in this!!!!
i listened to a few songs and really enjoyed them, but didn't get through the whole album lmao
but i did really enjoy what i did listen to, and i'm gonna come back to it
9/10
ghost quartet
i wanted to like this one. SO badly. i REALLY wanted to like it.
but i couldn't really get into it? 
there were a few songs that absolutely slapped, but overall, it was just kinda. eh. which sucks bc i have heard such good things about it
i LOVED "the astronomer," "the telescope," and "lights out" 
but i didn't get through the entire album
i'll come back to it eventually and give it another try, i think. i might just not have been in the specific mood for it
9.8/10
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rewritethestars5218 · 3 years
Text
Febuwhump 2021 Day 2 (16)
****I accidently switched the prompts for day 2 and day 16, so this chapter’s prompt is “broken bones.” I will write day two’s prompt on day 16.****
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163078/chapters/71619516
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Admittedly, it wasn't one of Wild's brightest ideas.
The group had landed in Twilight's Hyrule, where they quickly dispatched a small cluster of bokoblins that were lurking a little too close to Ordon Village.
Most of the heroes were content relaxing in the village, but Wild was getting antsy.
Sure, playing with the kids from the village was fun, but Wild was itching to go out and explore. 
He noticed Wind sitting off to the side, mindlessly fidgeting with his telescope. 
Normally, Wind would be chasing around the children in the village and dazzling them with pirate stories, not sitting off to the side by himself. 
Wild suddenly realized that it had been well over a month since they were last at Outset Island. 
Wild frowned. It wasn't often that Wild felt homesick, but occasionally he found himself missing the openness of his Hyrule, and the company of his friends. 
He could only imagine how it was for Wind, who was still a kid and who had a family waiting for him.
An idea suddenly struck Wild. He smirked as he made his way towards the sailor.
"Oh, hey Wild, what's up" Wind greeted when he saw the champion approach him.
Wild leaned over slightly. "Have you ever heard of shield surfing?"
Wind gave Wild a puzzled look before an impish smile started to form.
"No...but it sounds fucking awesome," he chirped.
 Wild chuckled. He turned to see who was around. The only one nearest them was Sky.
Wild gave a quick whistle to get his attention.
"Wind and I are going to go for a walk," Wild said as he gestured to just outside the village.
Sky narrowed his eyes slightly, and Wild was worried that maybe he would 'pull a Twilight' and tell him they couldn't go.
"Just don't get into too much trouble," Sky said with a grin.
"Yes!!" Wind cheered as he jumped up from where he was sitting. 
Sky immediately regretted his decision when he saw Wild's mischievous smile, but the two were already running out towards the forest before he could protest. 
"So, what exactly is shield surfing?" Wind asked when they were out of sight of the village.
"Well, basically, you take a shield, stand on top of it, and ride it down a hill."
"You ride your shield down hills?" Wind blurted.
"I mostly do it on mountains. The snow makes me go faster, and it doesn't damage my shield as quickly, but I have done it going down grassy hills."
Wind laughed. "Hylia above, you're fuckin' crazier than me," 
Wild tilted his head slightly, "Language..." he ribbed.
Wind just scoffed. "Yeah, ok, old man," he jibed.
After walking for about 20 minutes, Wild found a suitable hill to shield surf down. 
Wind was about to ask where they would find a pair of shields but stopped when he saw Wild reach for his sheikah slate. 
Sometimes he forgot that Wild could carry nearly limitless amounts of items in that slate. 
Wild tapped the slate, and two knight's shields materialized in glowing, blue tendrils. 
"Those shields look nice. Are you sure you want to use them?" Wind questioned.
Wild just waved him off. "I have better shields. Besides, these are longer, so it should make it easier for you to balance on."
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Unsurprising to Wild, Wind was a quick learner. It only took a couple of tries before the sailor had shield surfing down. 
It didn't take Wind long to set his sights on something more challenging.
"Let's ride down that hill!" Wind grinned as he pointed to a much larger, steeper hill in the distance.
Wild hummed, uncertain if he should give in. The hill in question was probably another 30 minutes walk from where they were, and Wild wasn't sure he should let Wind tackle such a steep hill right off the bat. 
"Awe, come on Wild!" Wind pleaded. "Please! We won't stay long."
Wild sighed. Goddesses, he was a softie.
Wind let out a celebratory cheer, and he started jogging towards their new destination.  
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"I don't know about this," Wild cautioned. Not only was the hill steeper than he first thought, but the grass was almost knee-high, making it harder to spot logs and rocks.
"Just let me try once," Wind pleaded. 
Wild sighed again. This must be what Twilight feels like whenever Wild decided to go do something reckless.
The hill did look like it could be a lot of fun...
"Ok, one time. Just be careful. There's no telling what's hiding underneath the grass."
"This is gonna be awesome!" Wind cheered as he started running up the hill.
 Once at the top Wild looked around to find what looked like the safest area to surf down. 
 After settling on a spot, Wild got on his shield. "I'll go first," he insisted. He would much rather test the path first to see if there was any debris hiding in the grass. 
"What difference does it make if you hit a rock or if I hit a rock?" Wind groaned, slightly annoyed that Wild was babying him. 
"The difference is I have done this countless times and know how to react when I hit something," Wild countered. "You haven't. The guys would kill me if I let you get hurt."
Wind scoffed but decided not to push the issue further.
Wild jumped on his shield and took off down the hill. 
Wind watched at how effortlessly Wild cut through the long grass, amazed at how fast he was traveling.
Once Wild made it to the bottom of the hill, he turned around and gave Wind the thumbs up.
Wind stood carefully on the shield and slowly leaned forward, letting gravity do the work. 
He quickly began to pick up speed, and for a brief second Wind almost lost his balance, but he recovered and crouched a little lower.
He felt a sudden flare of joy as he continued to pick up speed. 
Wind thought this must be what it feels like to fly as he continued to race down the hill.
Wind decided to test his luck and leaned a little to the right to see if he could get the shield to turn. 
Sure enough, he started veering towards the right. 
What he failed to realize was that he had created a new path, one that Wild did not test out first. 
It really shouldn't have come as a surprise that he ended up crashing into a rock. 
The collision caused the back of the shield to flip up, launching Wind into the air. 
Wind wasn't sure which was up. All he knew is he was tumbling through the air at an alarming rate of speed.
His limbs flailed as he sailed through the air. He felt his right foot collide with the ground and felt a sickening snap as the rest of his weight came crashing down on his ankle.
Wild cursed when he saw Wind get launched off the shield. He started running towards the kid before he even hit the ground.
Wind tucked in on himself as he tumbled the rest of the way down the hill. 
He didn't even realize when he stopped because his head was still spinning. It wasn't until he heard Wild shout his name that he dared to open his eyes.
Wild dropped hard to his knees when he reached Wind, his hands ghosting over the sailor, afraid to touch him.
"Are you ok?!" Wild fretted.
"That fucking sucked," Wind groaned, and Wild let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. At least the kid was conscious. 
"I bet it did," Wild scoffed, trying desperately to calm down. "Where are you hurt?"
"Other than my pride," Wind began, which did earn a nervous chuckle from Wild. If he was joking around, he couldn't be that injured.
"I'm pretty sure I broke my ankle." Wind finally admitted.
Wild cursed. "I am so sorry Wind," he began.
"What are you sorry for? This was my fucking idea," Wind argued. 
"But I knew this wasn't a good idea," Wild countered as he started searching through his slate.
"It was my fault. I was screwing around on the shield," Wind countered as he slowly sat himself up.
Wild cursed again, and Wind furrowed his brow.
"I'm out of healing elixirs," 
Wind couldn't help but laugh. Of fucking course they wouldn't have any healing potions. 
Wild hit a few more buttons on his slate and cursed for the third time.
"What?!" Wind asked.
"I forgot we aren't in my Hyrule," he admitted.
"So we can't teleport," Wind concluded.
Wild nodded. "Are you sure your ankle is the only thing injured? You didn't hit your head or anything?"
"I'm sure I'm going to have a lot of cuts and bruises, but the ankle is the only part injured," Wind assured.
Wild went to pick Wind up when he saw a flash of light reflect off something to his left. 
He managed to summon a sword from his slate just in time to turn and block the blade of a dynalfos.
"What the fuck is that?" Wind shouted as he tried (and failed) to stand.
Wild grunted under the monster's strength but managed to push the beast off of him.
He jumped back towards Wind. "I don't know. It almost looks like a lizalfo,"
The monster started to advance towards them.
"You need to hide!" Wild shouted as he prepared to take on the spiked beast.
Wind wanted to protest, but he knew he would only be a distraction to Wild if he stayed where he was. 
Wild charged at the oversized lizalfo, slashing at it feverishly with his scimitar. 
The monster was well armored and quick, easily blocking Wild's attacks with its shield. 
The second it had an opening, it began to swing at Wild with its ax. Wild tried to backflip out of the way, but the dynalfos suddenly spun around, his bladed tail whipping around and slashing Wild across the chest.
Wind felt his heart stop when he saw Wild hit the ground. He promised himself he would never be useless again, but here he was, unable to protect his brother.
He was screaming Wild's name as the dynalfos started walking towards the fallen hero, ax in hand. He attempted to stand, but his leg immediately gave out the second he put pressure on it.
Wild slowly pulled himself up, his one hand clutching at his now bleeding chest.
He rolled over just as the dynalfos readied what would most likely be a fatal attack. 
Suddenly, there was a flash of white, and the dynalfos was sent flying through the air.
Wind's eyes went wide. He had no idea where Sky came from, but he was sure he had never been as happy to see him as he was at that moment.
Sky stepped in front of Wild protectively, the Master Sword glowing dangerously in his hand. 
Wild and Wind watched as Sky lifted the Master Sword towards the sky, the blade now crackling with accumulating energy.
The second the dynalfos stood, Sky swung the sword down, expelling a slash of energy at the monster, knocking it clean off its feet.
Then, with a quickness Wind rarely saw, Sky dashed towards the fallen monster and lept into the air. He brought the Master Sword down violently, the blade finding a gap in the dynalfos' armor.
The monster let out a howl before it disintegrated into black smoke.  
Wind would have cheered at the brilliantly executed attack had he not been completely stunned Sky's sudden appearance.
Sky sheathed the Master Sword as he turned back towards Wild.
He knelt down next to the champion as he took out a red potion from his bag.
"I told you not to get into too much trouble," Sky chided as he helped Wild sit up.
Wild shoved the potion away. "Give it to Wind; he broke his ankle."
Sky gave a worried glance over at Wind, who was still getting over the shock of what he just saw.
Sky pushed the bottle back at Wild, "Lucky for you, I have extras." 
Wind finally snapped out of his stupor. "Where...when....how the hell are you even here right now?" Wind sputtered.
Sky scoffed humorously. Once he was satisfied that Wild would be ok, he stood up and made his way towards Wind.
"I had a change of heart," Sky stated as he crouched down and handed Wind a potion. 
"Maybe Twilight is rubbing off on me, but I wasn't comfortable leaving you two gremlins out here unsupervised. Turns out I was right."
 "I'm not a gremlin," Wild protested as he slowly stood up. 
"You're the worst of the bunch!" Sky declared. 
Wind rotated his ankle a few times, testing to see if the potion worked. 
With Sky's help, he stood up. Even though the bone had healed, his ankle was still tender. 
Still, he protested when Sky insisted he climb up on his back, but the chosen hero shot him a look that rivaled even Time's 'dad stares'. 
Once he was comfortably situated on Sky's back, the trio slowly made their way back to Ordon.
"What are you going to tell the others?" Wind finally asked.
"That you sprained your ankle looking for herbs with Wild." Sky deadpanned. 
"Seriously?!" Wind complained. "That's going to make me sound so fucking lame!" 
"Language!" Sky chastised, causing Wind to laugh.
"Seriously though," Sky continued. "Do you want to tell the others what really happened?"
Wild groaned. "Twilight wouldn't let out of his sight ever again."
Wind huffed in frustration. The story Sky came up with was embarrassing enough. Still, he'd rather deal with the embarrassment than deal with Twilight's over-protectiveness or the dad-lecture he would undoubtedly get from Time.
Despite the obvious shit-show the day turned into, Wind genuinely had a great time. 
"Hey Wild," he called out. When Wild looked up Wind smiled. "Thanks for cheering me up."
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