#my right hand was ready to retire lmao

[octoooo]

What would you do if you had control over beeees? All of ‘em, doesn’t matter how far way they are, you can pretty much summon bees whenever & wherever you want.

Anyway transition into my human Vespiquen design (Pokémon stuff)

Originally designed her back in July & hxixbdk here have the fully colored version

[tallulah477]

Pretty, But Not Stupid

Extra of Hunting the Tawtute

Kinkmas Day 10: Breath Play

Pairing: Lo’ak x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Breath Play, Choking, Size Difference, Alien Genitalia, Oral (male receiving), P in V, Belly Bulge, Creampie, Scenting, Mention of knots (but no knotting yet), Slight threesome (and Dark!Neteyam), Mentions of death/dead bodies, Reader is not having a good time (although idk...i think she’s having a great time), Mentions of war

A/N: Guess who’s back, besties!! Been MIA, slacking on prompts, and about to lose my fucking mind with all my family around, but I somehow got this done and I’m about to read as many fics as I can before someone else demands my attention.

A/N 2: This was not intended to be a full Part 2 yet, but it's way too long to be called a drabble. So I’m calling it an extra for now until I decide what to call it lmao. Hope y’all like it 🧡

A/N 3: DEDICATED TO @oakbuggy AND THEIR AMAZING ARTWORK (Everyone stop reading and go look at their art rn, all of them are god-tier but the one for Hunting the Tawtute definitely holds a special place in my heart. Thank you again, Buggy! You're amazing!)

Summary: With their father’s impending retirement as Olo’eyktan, Neteyam has more responsibilities to the clan and less time to see his favorite human. Thankfully, Lo’ak is there to pick up the slack.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Vrrtep - Demon

Tawtute - Human

Sevin - Pretty

Palulukan - Apex predator resembling a lion or panther

(Mountain) Banshee/Ikran - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Mawey - Calm

Narlor - Beautiful

Tam tam - Calm, be content, there there

Srane - Yes

Yawne - Beloved

Paskalin - Sweet berry (term of endearment)

Their father is stepping down as clan leader - at least that’s what Lo’ak tells you when he comes to visit you in the isolated hut the brothers have set up for you on the side of a cliff face. It was for your own protection, they told you. You couldn’t stay in the village yet, their father would never allow it, and you clearly couldn’t be trusted not to run away if they built you something on the forest floor. 

“Tawtutes with their tiny brains are stupid,” Neteyam had sneered as he hauled your combined weight up the cliff side. Your arms locked around his neck tightly, legs wrapped around his lithe torso as your eyes squeezed shut, determined not to look at the insane height you were being pulled to. “You might think to run away and then become the next meal of a hungry Palulukan.”

“Nah, bro,” Lo’ak said, the grin on his face audible in his teasing words as he climbed up the cliff behind you, ready to catch you if you decided to end it all right there and try your hand at plummeting to your death, no doubt. “Our little vrrtep would never run from us. Right, sevin?”

The hut they built for you was as cozy as it could be. Assembled further into the cave and away from the treacherous cliff side, thick material wrapped around sturdy posts to keep out any harsh weather that the cave itself couldn’t keep out. They’d given you plenty of blankets, assuring you that even though your human nose can’t smell it, their scent is all over them.

“To keep you smelling like us, when we can’t be here to do it ourselves.”

But they’re always around, day after day they come for you. Lo’ak grinning a deceivingly sweet smile and Neteyam’s amber eyes burning holes into your face as they grab at you, pulling you towards them as they all but rip off the loincloth and chest covering they gave you, baring your marked up body to their hungry gazes. They spread you open, fucking you and fucking you until you’re a crying overstimulated mess, drooling and teary under your mask as they fill you up. 

They know exactly how to touch you, where to press, where to rub, where you’re most sensitive. They learned how to play with your body better than you could ever know how, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling, exhausted body until your left limp and they’ve decided they’ve had enough for the day. 

Your body still struggles to take their cocks (although they love to tell you that you were made for it - “made to be our little cocksleeve”). Your only saving grace is that they’re still not sure if they can knot you. They’ve gotten close to trying, instincts desperate to push that large ball of tissue at the base of their cocks inside your already stuffed to the brim pussy. You feel how they test the resistance, pushing juuuusttt a little deeper, the swollen knot stretching you even farther than you ever thought you could stretch before they back off. 

When they fill you full of their cum, it’s with their own hand squeezing tightly around the knot. 

Usually, it’s both of them. This time, you’re shocked to see only Lo’ak climbing over the edge of the cliff. 

“Neteyam sends his regrets,” Lo’ak says, kneeling down to wrap his arms around your body and press his face into your neck. His flat nose presses against your rapidly increasing pulse point and breathes in your scent. “He said to tell you that he’s sorry he won’t be able to visit you today, but that he’ll make sure to come see your pretty face and fill your tight pussy tomorrow.”

Your face flushes hot at his words, shivering when his nose slides up to nudge just behind your ear, but you stay silent. 

“But that’s good news for me,” He continues. “Because that means I get you all to myself for tonight.”

Neteyam isn’t coming to visit you today because their father is stepping down as clan leader, which means increased training, more hours at council meetings, and less time to sneak off with his captive human. 

“What does that mean?” You can’t help but ask. Lo’ak’s hands smooth down your sides, large palms dragging over your bare skin until they’re squeezing your ass. Your voice cracks at the feel, but you push on, your eyes doing their best to keep contact with his bright amber ones. “Your father stepping down? What does that . . .” 

What does that mean for me?

“Nothing you have to worry about right now,” He says.

Without warning, he stands, pulling you with him so your legs wrap around his torso as he supports you with a hand on your ass. A loud yip rips from his throat, echoing through the cave as he walks you both towards the cliff’s edge. The responding roaring shriek makes you cower against him as the large dragon-like animal lands on the platform behind you, wings flapping hard against the wind. 

“We’re going on an adventure,” Lo’ak says as he walks you closer to the banshee. You whimper, arms locking around his neck so tight you’d think you would be choking him if you could think straight. But you’re not, head whipped around staring wide eyed at the monstrous creature as it turns its head sideways to stare back at you. 

“Lo’ak, no,” You beg through gritted teeth, but he ignores you as he approaches the banshee, his hand settling lovingly on its snout. 

“Mawey,” he coos, carefully rubbing along the blue leathery skin on the banshee’s snout, but you’re not sure if he’s trying to calm the large animal or you. “Mawey, narlor,”

“Lo’ak, no,” You plead, still clinging to his upper body. Tears pool in your eyes and a panicked whimper escapes your lips when you feel the puffing breath of the mountain banshee on your back. “Please, please, no!”

But you’re ignored again, even when your body goes rigid at the feel of that rounded snout pressing against the curve of your spine, hot exhales practically burning your skin as the banshee sniffs at you. Fuck, fuck–you could die. Right now, you could die in a second, that snout pressing into your skin could disappear, replaced with dual rows of long curved teeth that would take only a second to open and bite down and rip you clean in half. 

You can hear the smile in Lo’ak’s voice from where your mask is digging into his collarbone, his soft murmurs of encouragement loud even through your terrified thoughts. “Srane, tam tam. Look at my two beautiful girls, getting along so well.”

He moves swiftly, not leaving room for any more pleading as he bonds with his banshee and climbs on, bringing your clinging body with him. The rush of air as the large animal takes flight makes you squeeze Lo’ak tighter, desperate for safety as you feel the wind bat at your back as the banshee cuts through the sky like a bullet from a gun. 

“Is this all it takes for you to cling to me, sevin?” Lo’ak teases as he rests a secure hand on your trembling figure, all five fingers spread so wide that they nearly span the entirety of your back. “A little ikran ride and I get you all cuddled up, nice and close?”

You ignore his dig, teeth clenching together as you fight to find your voice around the wind rushing around your ears. “W-where are we going?”

Lo’ak nudges his chin against the top of your head. “You’ll see,”

The flight feels like hours. Hours of watching miles and miles of trees and forest thousands of meters below from over Lo’ak’s shoulder. Logically, you know you’re exaggerating. It hasn’t been hours, and even though you’re still high enough to die as a splat on the ground if you were to fall, it's probably not as high as it feels. But heights have never been your friend, and frankly, neither has time management. 

It’s only when the banshee lowers to the ground and Lo’ak dismounts, depositing you on your own two unsteady feet, that you realize where he’s brought you on your ‘adventure’. 

Your mouth opens in horror at the remains of your old home. The RDA outpost, a once tall and strong fortress that housed the lives of hundreds of humans, now practically nothing more than a heap of rubble. The walls once meant to provide safety to those within them have crumbled down, victims of their own explosives used against them by the enemy. Debris lines the paved ground, thick boulders and metal platings that were once walls, bullet shells glinting in the sunlight. There’s a few AMP suits scattered around the battlefield - you can’t see inside them from your vantage point, and you’re terrified of what you might see if you get too close. 

“This way, tawtute,” Lo’ak says, reaching for your hand, but you yank it away before he can grab it. 

“No,” You say, but the firmness in your voice is overshadowed by the shakiness. “No, I’m not going in there.”

“Yes, you are,”

Another headshake. “No,”

Quick as lightning, his hand shoots out and grabs the bottom of your mask, gripping on the valve at the bottom as he bends down so his face is level with yours.

“Demon,” He growls, fangs on display for just a moment. A warning. “You are pretty, but not stupid. You do as I say.”

Fear claws at your throat and your hands immediately latch onto his wrist, silently begging for him to not pull your mask off. He never does, and neither does Neteyam. Not as a punishment at least. When they use your mouth, there’s always a warning - a “hold your breath, yawne,” before the air is cut off from your lungs and your mouth is full of alien cock. But the fear never leaves, the possibility is always there at the forefront of your mind, and you cling to his wrist like the lifeline it is. 

Lo’ak’s face softens at your expression, grip loosening from your mask as his hand slides to cup the back of your neck. “You know I would never hurt you. You need to trust me,”

Hesitantly, you shake your head again. You’re pushing your luck, you know it. But you’ve learned Lo’ak is the more lenient of the brothers and will tolerate more ‘disobedience’ than Neteyam will. “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can. Nothing in there will hurt you. If anyone is left in there, they’re dead,”

And that’s the problem. The terror of facing the place where life as you knew it was ended in a heartbeat. If there’s still people in there, people you once knew, people you talked to, some people who were good, lying on the ground . . . lifeless . . .

In the end, it’s not a choice. Lo’ak sighs, pulling you back in his arms and cradling you to his chest like a toddler. You sniffle, eyes sliding shut, determined to not watch as he walks you towards the remains of the outpost. 

It’s hard to admit, but being carried by the brothers can be really soothing if you let it. They move swiftly, with grace and confidence in every step, careful not to jostle you despite the usually uneven terrain of the forest. It’s even smoother now as Lo’ak walks across the flat pavement of the base. If you close your eyes, it can almost feel like you’re floating.

There’s a loud chu-chunk sound followed by the rapid hiss of air and the loss of sunlight behind your closed lids. You open your eyes to see that Lo’ak has found a still intact entrance, the airlock working to adjust the oxygen levels to whatever lies beyond the interior door. He smiles when the pressure stabilizes, opening the door and stepping into the inside of the base. This time, he doesn’t warn you when he pulls off your mask, the sound of escaping air hitting your ears, but you don’t choke. Instead you can breathe, deep complete breaths without the need for a mask covering your face. 

Lo’ak wastes no time nuzzling his face against yours, sliding his cheek across every new inch of face and neck that he can comfortably reach, a deep content rumble vibrating through his chest. 

Scenting you. 

“I can smell you,” He whispers, lips pressing against your cheek. “Not just you right now, but where you were, where you’ve been, here, within these walls.”

“W-what?”

His feet carry him, guided by an old scent that you can hardly believe is here after so long. But it is, it has to be - you know the journey, have walked it hundreds of times during your time on Pandora, but you can’t imagine that Lo’ak would. You don’t think he ever went inside the outpost during the attack. He shouldn’t know that it's the second hallway instead of the first, shouldn’t know it’s two left turns and one right, and that your door is the 3rd on the left. But he does. 

He even knows which bed was yours and which was your roommate’s, only confirmed when he drops you down onto the thin RDA issued mattress against the far side wall. You land with a yelp, bouncing slightly from the force of the drop, but your noise of surprise is cut off by Lo’ak’s lips against yours.

“Stupid humans,” He growls against your lips. “Can't even breathe air without help. Wish I could teach you, so I wouldn’t have to go without your pretty lips on mine every day.”

You whine into the kiss, his big lips nearly twice the size of yours as they capture your mouth completely. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you, but it’s the first time you can breathe while it happens. 

He pulls away after a few more kisses, his breathing shallow as he reaches for something tied to his loincloth. It’s only then that you see the CO2 mask that’s been attached to his hip this whole time. He pulls the cross strap around his body, the mask hanging low on his chest and the CO2 canister hanging around his hip. He brings the mask to his face with one hand, taking in a few deep breaths, while the other hand works at the ties on his loincloth. 

The material of his covering falls to the ground and he drops the mask in favor of gripping your chin, thumb rubbing soothingly across your cheek. 

“Someone wants to play with you,” He purrs. “Be a good girl and invite him out, okay?”

Your breathing is shaky as you rise up on the bed, knees pressing into the mattress as you come face to face with the flat plane hiding Lo’ak’s cock. His hand moves to the back of your head, guiding you forward until your lips press against the smooth space between his thighs. 

Experience has you knowing what to do now, how to hold onto his thighs with both hands to keep yourself steady as you pepper gentle kisses along the hidden slit. Lo’ak tips his head back at the feel of your tongue sliding along the seam, little teasing kitten licks against the engorging slit that are always from him demanding them, demanding the slower teasing buildup, rather than you being coy. 

He pushes your face harder against him, hissing a ‘yeah, good girl. Like you fucking mean it,’ as he urges you to lick him deeper. When his slit opens, puffy and dripping, you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips as the sweet taste of his slick coats your tastebuds. It controls your body, whatever is in the slick. You feel it, making your body heat up, making you want things you definitely don’t - and you’re in the thick of it now, no mask or breathing breaks to cut whatever effects it usually has on you. It sets your body on fire now, making your thighs clench together as wetness pools in your core, and your brain fuzzes as the first touch of Lo’ak’s cock teases your lips as it starts to slip past the slit. 

You don’t know how long he keeps you there, sucking his cock. He’s dragging it out, taking advantage of the rare opportunity he has now of you without your mask. He drags your mouth along his cock, staring down at you with hooded eyes and letting you suckle gently on the lavender tip. Sometimes he’ll growl, pushing you down harder on his length just to hear you gag when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Other times he’ll pull you off completely, twisting your head so that your lips wrap around his girth from the side, before sliding you slowly back and forth along his length, tongue running over each and every bump and barb along the hot cerulean skin, the bright bioluminescent freckles decorating his cock practically shining under the layer of slick and saliva. 

When he’s finally used you to tease himself enough, he pushes you back flat on the bed, large hands wrapping around your calves and pulling you closer so your ass is just barely hanging off the side. You whimper when he pulls your legs apart, ripping the soaked loincloth from your body, hungry amber eyes staring at your swollen, wet cunt.

“Such a pretty girl,” He moans. The tip of his cock slides along your folds, nudging against your clit before sliding back down and positioning at your entrance. “You ready?”

Your brain is fuzzy and your clit is throbbing, hole clenching with the need to be filled. You close your eyes, looking away from his intense gaze - you don’t want it, you try to remind yourself, you don’t, he’s making you. But a swift smack on your thigh makes your eyes fly open again, Lo’ak’s hard gaze seeming to cut into your very soul.

“Say it, demon. Wanna hear you say it,”

A small cry escapes your lips, body unconsciously trying to bear down on his cock even as you shake your head. He shifts forward just the tiniest bit, lavender tip just barely pressing against your drooling hole enough for it to start to stretch before stopping again. 

“‘Need you, Lo'ak,” he recites, brow cocked, expecting you to repeat it. “Say it.”

“Fuck!” Is what comes out instead - a whiny, frustrated curse, that has your eyes tearing up again and Lo’ak’s ears pinning back against his skull.

His hand is quick to wrap around your throat, fingers digging into the blood vessels at the side of your neck as he hisses down at you. Your hands wrap around his wrist again, fingernails digging in and no doubt leaving red crescent shaped marks in the blue skin. He’s not squeezing your neck, not crushing your windpipe out of anger. You can breathe, the gulping breaths your gasping for are making it into your lungs, but the fingers pressing into the blood vessels make it feel like you can’t. Your head is clouding again, fuzzing like TV static, vision going blurry as his hand doesn’t relent. 

“Fine,” He grunts. “You don’t wanna talk? Don’t.”

You want to scream when he pushes forward, cock bullying its way past your entrance and inside you, stretching you and filling you up. It’s slow and torturous as he fills you impossibly full, the barbs along his length scraping ruthlessly against your slick walls. He sighs, ears flicking in pleasure as your heat envelopes him, stretching around his girth so perfectly he swears you were made for him. 

You can feel the bulge in your belly, the pressure disappearing and reappearing again as he begins to move inside of you. Long, purposeful strokes meant as a punishment, meant to make you feel every agonizingly blissful inch of him as he fucks into your soaked cunt, harder and harder with each thrust. Your mouth moves trying to form words, sound fleeting save for the barely there whispers of ‘fuck’, ‘oh my god’, and ‘please’. Lo’ak hears them anyway, leaning down to silence you with a filthy kiss. His hips pound against yours, unrelenting in their mission to completely fuck the soul of your body, and the sound of slapping skin against skin mix with Lo’ak’s groans and your barely audible breathy whines. 

Lo’ak’s fingers find their way to your swollen clit, rubbing persistently at the sensitive nub until you're crying into his mouth, thighs trying desperately to close together but can’t because of his body between them. The thick press of his knot against your entrance is what pushes your oversensitive body over the edge.

At the first suffocating clench of your pussy around his cock, Lo’ak releases your throat letting all the air it felt like you weren’t getting back into your lungs in a rush of oxygen. You gasp, crying against his lips as you arch up against him, creaming pussy fluttering around him as you cum on his cock. He growls when your teeth latch onto his bottom lip, blunt teeth digging in enough to draw blood, but the way he immediately grabs your hips, shoving his knot against you as hard as he would dare without actually penetrating you, tells you that it was a lust filled growl this time, not an angry one. 

He moans when he spills himself inside you, face pressed against your neck as he fills you up. You swear it feels almost scorching hot, heating you up from the inside and then out as it spills from around Lo’ak’s still buried cock and runs down the curve of your ass and onto the bed sheets. 

Someone clears their throat from behind Lo’ak, and you gasp at the sudden sound, frantically trying to look around Lo’ak’s hulking body to see who it is. 

Lo’ak sighs, undisturbed by sudden intrusion, even going as far as rolling his eyes before slowly pulling out of your used cunt - more of his cum spilling out onto the bed now that he’s not still inside you to keep it in. “Wasn’t expecting you today, bro,”

Your eyes widen when he moves out of the way, revealing a smug looking Neteyam in the doorway, still very much dressed up in his warrior’s gear. 

“I had to make time to see our pretty little demon,” Neteyam says, bright amber eyes sweeping over your exhausted form. He crosses the room with three long strides, one knee pressing into the bed as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was a nice show. I know you’re tired, paskalin,”

His eyes meet yours, amber irises practically swallowed up by the blacks of his pupils. A hand presses against your belly, sneaking down towards your oversensitive pussy, his pointer finger reaching out to tap against your clit as you whine. 

“But it’s really not fair that you smell more like Lo’ak than me now, is it?”

**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @pandoraslxna @avatarwifey

[kairiscorner]

Hiii I'm Back >:)

What about a Noir x fem reader where they go on a date/hanging out but Peter is like abnormally horny and the reader is oblivious LOL.

HELLO AGAIN @sabcandoit!! okay this one is a pretty silly one :>> SURE THING LMAO (don't ask why i used the same gif, he just looks so funni)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

"dearest..." peter called from behind you as you were busy preparing dinner. he wrapped his arms around you as he nuzzled his head against the crook of your neck, peppering kisses against your neck and cheeks. you giggled at the display of affection from your dearest as you kept washing the vegetables at the sink. "yes, dear?" you asked him, entertaining him without turning around, with a sweet smile on your face.

peter placed his hands on your waist and chuckled. "why, aren't you just so..." he trailed off as he rubbed at your sides slowly, smiling against your cheek all slyly. "aren't you just so lovely tonight?" he asked in a seemingly innocent voice, but it spoke with different intentions, intentions that were anything but innocent. you chuckled at his compliment and leaned into his relentless kisses. "and aren't you just so handsy tonight, pete?" you say with a slight giggle as you pulled away from his touch to get a few utensils you needed to make dinner.

peter followed you to the other side of the kitchen, thinking you were doing this to play hard to get. luckily for him, he knows how to play your game like the back of his hand. he chuckled to himself as he wrapped you in an embrace yet again, his grip tightening around your forearms to keep you from escaping or doing anything at all, really. you playfully rolled your eyes. "peter..." you said in a fake annoyed tone. he kissed the back of your head as he asked you, "what, love?" he went back to kissing your neck up and down, and soon, began kissing your shoulder and breathing heavier as he looked up at you and smirked. "peter." you repeated in a more serious tone as you set down your utensils and leaned against his touch.

peter thought he would finally convince you and give you what he's longed to give you in a while, finally, he'd be able to have you all for himself tonight. he chuckled and grinned mischievously at you. "yes, my loving spouse?" he asked in a sing-song voice as he put his chin on your shoulder. "i'm cooking." you promptly said, which disheartened peter and made his grin disappear from his face. "but..." he tried to convince you to keep the mood, which had already been shattered, keep going--but you just weren't getting the hint. you giggled as you pulled out of peter's loosening grip. "i'll make your favorite tonight, peter. that's probably what you've been doing, buttering me up for earlier." you said with a giggle, thinking you figured out exactly what peter wanted. but no, you couldn't be any farther from the truth.

peter retired to the living room, slumping down on an armchair as he sighed. he wanted to light a cigarette, take a long drag and hope that'd make his... urges go away. and so, he got up and off the armchair and lit his cigarette when he was finally out at the veranda. "peter, dinner's ready." you called out to him, and he turned around. to your dismay, he was smoking. but he swore he'd only smoke one cigarette, and only if he really felt like it. you sighed. "what's wrong, pete?" you asked as you approached him. he took the cigarette out of his mouth and put it out, letting it fall to the ground as its ashes spread and made a small mess.

he ran a hand through his hair, sighed, and looked at your concerned face. he tried to smile, but it came off quite forced. "nothing's wrong, dearest. i just... i wanted to... do things with you tonight." he said as he took your hands and rubbed his thumbs over your knuckles, admiring how smooth your skin felt, how right your hands fit into his own.

you tilted your head to the side. "but wasn't your whole show for me tonight enough? i made your favorite, you had your way, we did things tonight and i loved it. did... you not--"

"no, no, love, it's... it's more than just hugging and kissing that i want." he said as he placed his hand behind your head, and you brought your head up to look at him in the eyes. his eyes told a different story, a story of a man who longed to please his wife and satiate his own needs. he rubbed his thumb against you cheek, and with his smile and expression softening, he leaned in closer to you. "and i still really want it, love." he said as you leaned closer to him, getting the scent of burning tobacco in through your nose as he breathed against your skin.

and in an instant, you finally understood what he really wanted from you, what he needed from you. you connected your lips with his and wrapped your arms around his neck. as you two forgot about your dinner and made out at the veranda, you were planning on so many things to do with peter that night. and that'd only be the beginning, you had to make up for all the hard work he's been doing trying to get your attention, and wouldn't you be just excited for that?

a/n: SORRY IF IT SUCKS, i'm not very experienced in writing this kind of stuff for noir, but i hope you like it :'>> TY FOR THE REQUEST THOUGH !!

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @connors-cumslurper @maxoloqy

[smallnico]

6, 9, and 15 for the oc asks!

hell yeah thanks for asking!!!

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

i'm confident that esper would not be able to hold down a normal job, but i've said to a lot of people that they belong on small stages in gay bars, either performing themself (playing instruments, dancing, singing, probably doing drag) or hosting for other performers (because they are very good at hyping up an audience and getting people to spend money). they do a lot of gig work in general. if they had less self-respect they'd probably be a killer mlm salesperson.

in a lot of my non-fantasy au ideas they also end up being ex-military as a stand-in for their relationship with bhaal, but that's not really something they're tempted to revisit, even for financial gain.

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

poorly, and absolutely not lmao. have you seen esper?? the only reason they aren't riddled with chronic pain and status effects from overwork and exhaustion is because they're an unkillable demigod, courtesy of bhaal. they've never heard the words "self" and "care" used next to each other. i've written fic of esper trying to bathe and spiralling about it. their idea of healing is a healing word and a bandage and we keep going until we have time for a short rest. they smell like old blood. they heal quickly from their own injuries, so they never learned about like, recovery times, and they don't know how much strain a normal body can take so they don't know how to take care of anybody else, either. menace.

esper does take care to stretch and exercise regularly though. part of their morning routine is their warm-up exercises so they can stay limber and mobile while out adventuring. they also wear whatever the fantasy equivalent of compression wear is on their hands, wrists, and waist -- their hands to keep them steady, and their waist for structural back support while their abdomen heals from the autopsy. esper takes care of their body exactly as much as they need to keep it physically functional, they just push themself so unreasonably hard that their idea of "physically functional" basically just means "upright and able to move".

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

no idea! frankly it's literally due to divine intervention that they even made it This far, given all of the above. they did manage to retire from being bhaal's chosen, which is all that matters :) but i haven't even decided if esper actually ages normally, so i don't know if their body would at any point give out enough that they'd Have to stop. i don't know if they'd need to retire from working altogether, and they probably wouldn't if given the choice. esper would retire for 2 days tops and then get right back to work because they don't know how to relax.

[pangtasias-atelier]

Can I make a request for Gilliam and Garcia mutual gaining in a domestic setting (without ross of course) both at around 500 lbs, with Garcia having a bigger gut and Gilliam being chubbier all around, appreciating each others gains? Thank you

Ahhhhh I definitely struggled with this one ajsnjsb. I do very much like the pairing, I just think I've legit never used either of them in like all 7 of my playthroughs lmao.

I hope you enjoy it regardless cause I did have fun writing it after looking up all their supports ajnjbhns

Warning: This is a fetish story!

In a small yet lively cottage that mostly everyone in the bustling border town knows of, its two residents are the very cause of such an atmosphere. The residence is nearly the exact same as all its neighbors; like all the rest, the house is built from a combination of Frelia's fine lumber from its abundant forests and Renais' rich minerals derived from its vast mountains.

Despite the average appearances, its occupants are anything but average looking.

The two married men are busy in the kitchen. The room is currently being made a mess while also being cleaned up at the same time with both of the men working together.

Gilliam has his back to the stove. Clearly enjoying the peacetime in Frelia, his figure has bloated out. His trusty pants cover up the entire expanse of his blubbery rear. Standing at an impressive stature next to even tall men, Gilliam's height is made extra impressive with his weight. Weighing 508 pounds —last he checked two weeks back— that came about from extensive sessions involving food and groping. The entire shape of his ass is outlined by his tight clothes, every fold and roll of his plump, shapely ass visible for Garcia to gaze upon just by turning around. Gilliam's entire figure is rotund, his lovingly stuffed figure eagerly accepting the extra weight everywhere. The width of Gilliam's hips are almost the same measurement as the kitchen sink; his thighs fill out his pants. Gilliam's large thighs bulge from his weight, the upper half of his thighs straining against the fabric much more than his smaller yet still doughy lower half of his thighs and calves. His thighs squish together from Gilliam’s feet brought together.. It’s a bit difficult to see just how smushed Gilliam’s thighs are with his plentiful ass fat blocking the view, though.

Not that Garcia minds, turning away from his task to give it a playful smack. “You almost done? I’ve got a couple more things ready for you,” Garcia asks. Two turners in his right hand, he reaches around Gilliam to dump them with the last remaining dirty dishes. Garcia gets a handful of Gilliam’s stomach, his own flabby arm covered and sinking into his husband’s blubbery gut as he hugs him with his right arm. Garcia also gets to feel the back of his husband but his gut does most of the feeling. Garcia’s stomach is absolutely immense; the large flabby sack of fat is the retired warrior’s largest feature.

“I’m getting there. It’s a bit difficult,” Gilliam faces down at the last few utensils left despite his husband’s distractions. Gilliam’s difficulty comes from his own size. With him being rather tall, he always had the issue of several things not being made with people his own height in mind. And now with his growing waistline from too many binges —sessions that involve being fed or feeding or both more often than not— Gilliam’s troubles with things being too small are only doubled.

The kitchen sink forces Gilliam to stand at a slightly awkward angle. His thighs come up to the countertop which didn’t use to be too much of a problem before, nothing that a slight hunch or bending couldn’t fix. But his bigger, rather large belly makes it a bigger problem. His large belly sags down to rest on the counter despite it being tucked behind his shirt. Which, when combined with cleaning dishes makes for not the best of combinations. So Gilliam takes his time washing dishes and stands an extra few inches back from the counter. A few drops of soapy water do manage to collide with his belly and the lower roll of his stomach flab is damp from the splashes of water that manage to wet the countertop that his belly does inevitably touch whenever Gilliam reaches forward to grab something.

Garcia also makes washing the dishes a bigger issue than it usually is.

His husband cooking behind him, the two’s kitchen was clearly not made with two obese men in mind. Garcia pigging out just as much as Gilliam, if not more, left him at around the same weight as his husband. At least a whole quarter tonner of a man according to last month’s weigh in, Garcia’s slightly shorter stature has him looking much rounder than Gilliam. A large portion of his weight went to his over bloated stomach, the large gut representative of his new eating habits. Garcia wears his white shirt untucked. His gut spills out from his shirt, the hairy expanse of his lower gut exposed. His chest isn’t that far behind his gut in terms of size. The two large breasts spill out of the shirt’s extremely low neckline; his doughy, hairy chest pressed up against the neckline that struggles to hold back his meaty chest. Not that Garcia minds, the warrior proud of his weight. Though he does move around carefully while he cooks, always mindful of his wobbling belly as he takes slow waddles to adjust himself. His thighs help him move around slowly, the two thick legs crammed with enough fat at his weight to make sure he has to swing one meaty thigh past the other just to walk now. His thighs are free for the most part; Garcia wears a pair of ill fitting shorts. The fat on his thighs curve inward from the tight fit along with his ass. His ass bulges out from the small clothes.

Next to Giliam, Garcia is completely underdressed. A fact that he takes a complete advantage of.

“The food’s almost done. Shouldn’t you be hurrying up?” Garcia slots himself right up next to Gilliam. He bumps his husband with his large hip. Like gelatin slapping gelatin, neither of the now jiggling men end up moving from their spot. Garcia’s gut spills onto the counter, the cool material nice on the underside of his belly that envelops and smothers the countertop.

Gilliam keeps scrubbing at the used pan. “You slow cook everything. The meat won’t be ready for another thirty minutes,”

“And it’ll taste great cause I made it. You don’t get to be this big without knowing your way around a meal,” He pats his belly, the large pile of blubber wobbling in return. Garcia reaches for a kitchen rag and starts drying at all the pans and utensils Gilliam has washed. He makes sure to dry extra vigorously; his blubbery arms that are still as big as his days as a warrior wobble, his biceps filled with lard instead of muscle now.

Gilliam keeps a straight face as he now rinses the sink, all the dishes now washed.. But, he does glance over to see Garcia’s nonsense every once in a while.

Garcia dries the larger dishes now. He uses his gut for leverage, his doughy stomach sinking under the weight of the pans as Garcia makes sure to remove every last drop of water. Clearly not careful to remove most of the water immediately, Garcia’s already tight top is wet. His skin begins to show through the translucent fabric.

Gilliam pats at his forehead with the hand towel as he finishes his task of cleaning. His task finally complete, he focuses his attention over to his husband. Which he nearly snorts at with a grin.

“You’re finally taking some time to look at what a handsome husband you have?” Garcia grins right back. He also puts down the pan he dries, already done drying it some time ago.

“I always have time,” Gilliam brings himself closer. He pushes at Garcia with his gut, slowly using his bulk to turn his husband while also guiding him with his blubbery left arm. “But if I don’t do the chores my husband asks me to do, then what does that make me?”

Garcia allows himself to be guided by Gilliam. Their guts touch up against each other, both of their stomachs smushed as they take slow waddles. “It’d mean you're not such a hard-ass,” Garcia smiles when he sees a blush form on Gilliam’s face.

“Then I guess I won’t listen when you tell me to eat another plate,” Gilliam quips back.

“Like you need the encouragement,”

“Neither do you,”

His retort thrown back at him, all Garcia can do is laugh. “Guess all we can do is blame ourselves then. Not that I have any complaints,” Their left hands still interlocked, two sets of pudgy fingers happily held together, Garcia uses his free hand to grasp at the other’s belly. His thumb in Gilliam’s belly button, Garcia’s palm is smothered in belly flab as he holds the underside of such a doughy gut.

“I have no complaint,” Gilliam’s smile widens as he reaches the wall, well, as Garcia reaches the wall, his husband’s ass pinned to it. He himself stands a couple feet away from it with both of them so round and taking up so much space. Gilliam uses the extra couple of inches of height he has on his husband to pin him to the wall. Which he doesn’t even need to use, Garcia allowing himself to be in such a position.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Garcia asks. He gives Gilliam’s belly a small shake, staring at the way his husband’s belly slowly jiggles like waves crashing onto a beach.

Gilliam does his best to reach around both his and Garcia’s guts to grope his husband's ass. “We are tied once again. You want to break my winning streak?”

Garcia grins at the touch before suddenly becoming stiff. “Not if the food burns!”

Giving his husband a kiss, Gilliam presses both his hands on Garcia’s gut, reaching underneath his shirt to rub at it. But only for a brief moment, pushing himself off his husband by using his massive belly as leverage. As swiftly as he can move out of the way, lugging one large thigh past the other, he does his best to make enough room for Garcia. “I’ll set the plates,”

“Good, I’m starving so I’m sure you must be too,” Garcia rests a hand on Gilliam’s belly as he waddles past him, his fingers slowly grazing over the soft, blubbery stomach.

After Garcia makes his way through, Gilliam waddles over to the cupboards. “Make sure you eat everything,” He pulls out extra large dishes, the set purchased to allow them to eat more per serving.

“I’ll gladly eat my fill as long as you do. I know you can’t resist my cooking,” He slowly brings the pot roast over to the already set table.

The table really mostly meant for the two of them, the furniture is made extra long for the two to sit side by side. Though now they have to sit across from each other, the poor bench most likely not able to withstand an entire half ton of weight. As Garcia places the pot roast and goes back to retrieve the other side dishes, he smiles at his eager husband already sitting down.

As Garcia sits down and makes himself comfortable —after adjusting his gut multiple times— the two grin at each other in anticipation.

Neither wait for a single confirmation. Instead, they dig in and start their competition, both somehow even more eager and competitive now when it comes to eating compared to their arm wrestling so many years ago. Not that either mind, the obese married men content with each other.

[tonydaddingham]

✨ episode 4 - running commentary✨

- I'm not ready for this no no no no no DEEP BREATH ok let's go

- I will just say actually that ep3 has turned it around for me, like 100% and it is SO MUCH BETTER on tv than on the bigger screen, the screenings were fun but a Mistake

- anyWAY

- LESI???

- ok literally a hitchhiker lmao @theeminentlyimpractical wins this round HAHAH JTS SHAX JAHAHA mood swing

- oh my god i want them to be friends in an AU fuCK SHE WORKED IT OUT AZIRAPHALE LMAO

- BAD SHAX HE IS ✨EXACTLY✨ HIS TYPE fucking BEAT HER ASS AZZY

- lmao aziraphale???? YOU SLY DOG????

- this has to be a fuck moment right aziraphale? az?? CMON SWEAR YOU DUMBASS BITCH

- honestly aziraphale if it turns out furfur is an ex we need to have cocktails bbygirl tell me EVERYTHING YOU DIRTY HOE

- 40S MINISODE ARGHJ🚨🚨🚨🚨

- lmao walking dead au when, they really did end up down there huh I mean foregone conclusion but this gives me LIFE

- idc about hell I need the BOYS I need the dinner of motherfucking 41

- all the Nazis lmao get shredded bitches

- furfur lol this is doomed to failure

- DAVID TENNANT ON FIRE FUCK YES

- aziraphale stop trying to offer him a handy I'm sorry but you need to TONE IT DOWN you nearly got blown up NOW IS NOT THE TIME offer him a blowy LATER

- no I'm sorry but Mrs h???? FUCKING GET THEM GIRL THEYRE MY BABIES BUT INEPT AF

- THE SHOT THE CROWLEY PICTURE FUCK

- this is so much better than I could have ever predicted NEIL YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARd

- AHHHHHH AM I ABOUT TO BE RIGHT ABOUT THE 40S MINSODE DID I PREDICT THS???? DO THEY KISS????💓✨ IS THERE A 🚨MOMENT🚨

- also lmao the dinner is after the show??? idk let's see

- IM SWEATIN SO HARD THIS KS SO GOOd

- fucking HOWLING at the Nazi trio hahaha Steve pemberton is *the* moment lmaooooo

- OOP NO DINNER DINNER NOW??? Also lmao 'friends' I bet that BURNED Michael's mouth to FUCK

- crowley's face I'm DYING aziraphale you're so SILLY

- fuck me im so whipped for 40s Crowley and his lil jazzy wazzy hands

- THE WAY HE FLIRTS FUCK OFF GO AWAY CROWLEY stop buttering him up HES ABOJT TO JUMP YOU BUD

- ahhh magic shop!!!!!✨✨✨

- I know we said that aziraphale has the patience of a saint but I take it back Crowley is still an angel I'm convinced of it

- aziraphale literally has no self preservation I love him

- "leave the miracles to us" snarky ass bitch

- AHHHH HE TRUSTS CROWLEY FUCK YES the way he grabs his MF HAND no I'm done now

- DID I CALL CROWLEY BEING A VOLUNTEER IN A FUCKINF SHITPOST my GOD

- aziraphale you are a disaster

- I FUCKING CALLED IT HAHAHA this is my win ill tAKE IT CROWLEY CALLED AS A VOLUNTEER HAHAHA

- oh my god someone drag him off stage pLEASE

- GRITTED TEETH "NEITHER ARE MINE HEHE" hahahaha

- HE LITERALLY HAS TO TRUST CROWLEY UGH THIS IS 4AM GIRL DINNER ✨💓

- Cmon Crowley you can do it bbygirl💓💓💓💓

- HE DID IT

- here we GO THE DRESSING ROOM SCENE YES

- no fuck off furfur they need to snog go away OH MY GOD THEY KNEW EACH OTHER, jealous AZIRAPHALE?????

- "AZIRA-FALALALALA"

- oh I'm living for the zombies I love them

- lmao that photo hahahaha

- FUCK AZIRAPHALE YOU ARe so goOD AT MAGIC AND SLEIGHT OF HAND IM SORRY I EVER DOUBTED YOU you saved yourselves YES

- DINNER DINNER DINNER

- NOW KISS

- NOW

- "retire the act"

- OH MT FOD THIS IS SO SOFT??????? FUCKINF HELL

- BLUR THE MF EDGES

- THE WIIIIIIINE

- wait no come back u need to kiss now no

- fucking cockblocked by a scene change fuCK

- NO SHAX YOU BITCH NO LEAVE THEM ALONE LEAVE THEM ALOOOOOONNEEEEEE

- PLEASE

- yes beelzebub NO BEELZEBUB lol another mood swing

- annnnnd he's back home💓💓💓

- I KNEW AZIRAPHALE WAS BENTLEY'S FAVE get shitted on crowley

- he's MOVING BACK IN???? INTK RHE BENTLEY???? CROWLEY TOU ARE SO STUPID BABES

- "a night to REMEMBER" lmao it BETTER BE

Oh no it's the ball episode next I BETTER GET THAT KISS but also an explanation for "u go too fast for me Crowley" bc that did NOT explain it

[femmmie]

I just don't want to be perceived anymore

Author's note: I'm so sorry about this lmao. This is all FICTION

word count: 691 rating: general read on AO3

The room was brightly lit. Cloudy blue wallpaper, calathea plants on shelves, a cat purring in on a small soft stool.

"I guess it's just really hard, you know? Or, maybe not hard... It's weird. Off."

"Please, elaborate?"

The therapist's smile was kind, and Anthony felt at ease with her. He sat on the couch as she sat behind her desk, not facing him directly. It made him feel more relaxed.

"You see... I've been 'on camera' for twenty years now. Sure, I've had my ups and downs, different looks, different eras. Still..." Anthony scratched the back of his neck. "It's like every time I see myself on camera now, I can't help but measure it to my best days. So I always lose."

"Why do you compare yourself to past versions? They are never coming back."

"No, and that's the problem. I'm beginning to see my losing battle with time. Little wrinkles, different kind of face shape..."

"Face shape?" The therapist raised her eyebrow.

"I know, I'm being very vain. And I know it's a part of life and it happens to everyone, if they're lucky to live long enough. Except Oprah of course, she's Benjamin Buttonning."

"Anthony. Let's stay on topic. Obviously everyone ages. But you've done more than age. I'm talking about your tattoos."

Anthony looked at his arms. Long brush strokes ran all the way down them, even over his fingers. He turned his hands. One palm was entirely covered in ink. "I really like them."

"Obviously you do. But, do you think you getting them has something to do with your self-image?"

"I just really enjoy getting them set, and I feel like I am expressing a truth from within me, on the outside. So maybe it does."

You said you're comparing yourself. Did you do that before?"

"I did. I've really done it my entire life. I've never felt like I was enough..."

Anthony looked out of the window. It was a sunny day in California, like always.

"How come?"

"You know my life's story by now, you know why. I can't help it, and I really am trying to work through it, but I don't want to broadcast an embarrassing set of displays of mental breakdown like I did when I first left."

"Left?"

"Smosh."

"Right. Is that all, though?"

"No, of course not."

"Please, Anthony, don't make me pry it out of you." The therapist shot Anthony a look and he laughed.

"Alright. So. I just don't want to be perceived anymore. This last year has been so so good, truly. Buuuut, I've also noticed myself falling into old patterns again. I keep trying to get validation from strangers, it's so addictive. I know better and still I keep doing it.

Anthony sighed.

"And now I have Ian back, it feels... sacred? What we have now, it's so special, truly, right? Like, we've won the lottery, we got our soulmates ending, we did the whole Your Name thing. And making the sketches together has been magical."

He fought back a sob.

"But when we're doing these public appearances, videos, podcasts and all the rest, people I don't know get to butt in on that sacred space. And I don't want them to see, you know? We're finally in such a good place and I don't want it to get contaminated."

The cat jumped from its stool and pushed it's little body against Anthony's tattooed calf. It purred loudly, and left Anthony no other choice than to pet it.

"Have you two done things together that you haven't shared with strangers online?"

Anthony's face lit up. "Yes, and those are the best days. We're in fact planning a short trip to Europe together right now."

"That's good. And do you think this holiday will make you feel differently about all of this?"

"No. In fact, I have made up my mind. I am taking a step back. I will be on screen a little, here and there, but that's it. It's been a long career. And I am ready to retire."

"Fair enough. How does that make you feel?"

"At peace, honestly. At peace."

[loominggaia]

...“Combatants, to your marks…aaand go!” called Lukas. The crew began to cheer, but the combatants didn’t charge each other right away. Instead, Isaac bounced around on his feet and offered a warning. “Are you ready to scrap, old man? You might break a hip!” he teased. “I am ready when you are, my little friend,” Mr. Ocean told him, standing casually in place. “Okay,” Isaac said slowly, crouching to telegraph his charge ahead of time, “here I come!” The boy was confident he had this match in the bag–so confident that he felt guilty for even agreeing to compete. But this was his captain’s command, so he obeyed and bolted towards the ancient cecaelia with the bamboo stick raised high. The stick stopped short of its target as Mr. Ocean seized Isaac’s wrist with one of his tentacles. Their crewmen hooted and hollered around them, their noise escalating as another tentacle wrapped around Isaac’s ankle and lifted him off the ground. Isaac dangled upside-down before his opponent, squirming helplessly in his grip while a third tentacle wrapped around his other wrist, and a fourth found his free leg. Once all the human’s limbs were bound, Mr. Ocean flipped him over and pinned him belly-up in the dirt. “He’s like a million years old, Izzy, he can’t be that strong!” shouted Javaan. Isaac tried with all his might, growling and squirming, but no matter which way he tried to pull himself, the tentacles pulled him back. The stick was clutched in his fist, so close to its target but unable to strike, for a tentacle had wrapped itself tightly around his wrist and fingers. The rest of Mr. Ocean’s body hadn’t moved an inch since the match began. He stood calmly above his opponent, arms dangling loosely at his sides while his tentacles did all the work. Lukas hollered angrily, “God damn it, Isaac! I’ll be down fifty bucks if you don’t get your act together and smack that decrepit old geezer! Get your ass up right now!” “Trust me, I’m trying!” the young man replied through gnashed teeth, but it was no use. He turned to his opponent and panted, “If you think you won, you’re wrong, ‘cause I’ll just keep fighting and fighting! You’ll wear out eventually! You’re gonna be sore in the morning if you keep this up, I’m warning you! Let me go, man! Come on, aren’t you late for bingo or something?” Mr. Ocean stepped forward and squatted over his body in a comfortable position, resting his elbows upon his knees. He propped his cheek on his palm and smiled at Isaac, telling him, “I’m retired, my friend. I have all day to spare…and I’d be delighted to spend it with you! Have I ever told you about the time I was captured by pirates? It was two hundred years ago–or perhaps four hundred? Hm, maybe even six hundred now, I can’t recall. Anyhow, there I was, sailing along the coast of Serkel–or maybe it was Noalen. No…Wokina, perhaps…?” “Oh, God, fine! I forfeit! I forfeit!” Isaac surrendered desperately. At last, he felt the tentacles loosen around his limbs and he scrambled back to his feet. “Isaac’s out! Well done, Mr. Ocean!” Evan chuckled, “Looks like you still have some fight left in you after all, you old sea-dog!” Lukas angrily slapped two 25GP coins into Glenvar’s hand. Then he turned to Isaac, who had just climbed out of the pit, and scolded him, “You lazy little quitter! I ought to whup you stupid for that crap!”

-Excerpt from an upcoming Looming Gaia story. Isaac vs. Mr. Ocean in the training pit.

I love this scene. Isaac's so ready to throw down and Ocean just old mans him into submission immediately lmao

Mr. Ocean:

Isaac: OMG HAVE MERCY PLEASE

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

[brutlist]

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟷    :    𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.

NAME  :   jscob grant heugh EYE COLOR  :    black brown HAIR STYLE  /  COLOR  :    black brown . it’s long enough to get in his eyes sometimes , thick and curly , unmanageable but neat .  HEIGHT  :    6'4". CLOTHING STYLE  :   big carhartt type jackets , flanel , jeans , steel tipped boots , t-shirts , sweaters .  BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE  :      thighs , tummy , hands , sharp nose , long lashes , rosy cheeks , big dark eyes . 

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟸    :    𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.

FEARS  :   failure , emotional vulnerability , being in the wrong , riding passenger ( PTSD induced ) . GUILTY PLEASURE  :   will sometimes buy himself a little cake slice when he’s sad and will eat it in his car , parked in his driveway . truly enjoys being corny .  BIGGEST PET PEEVE  :   being talked down to , asked for advice and then having that advice ignored , coffee grains in his coffee , the awful buzzing electricity makes that nobody else hears for some reason .  AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE  :    to never stop improving the way heron operates , continue protecting people , be a good father to his children and maybe retire once he thinks eric is ready to take the mantle of director . 

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟹    :    𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒.

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP  :  oh my god why is it so hot THEY THINK ABOUT MOST  :    the job . the next meeting . why are the kids being so quiet .  WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED  :   what he did wrong that day and what he can do to do better the following , conversations he’s had with his kids , what first he’ll need to address in the morning and how he might go about it . WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS  :  how he thinks before he speaks , and how he takes his time with talking to say it right the first time.

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟺    :    𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒    𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES  :    single dates at first , if they have kids and he they have the greenlight maybe a play date .  TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED  :    respected . BEAUTY OR BRAINS  :    brains . DOGS OR CATS  :   cats . dogs are fun when they’re not coming home with him 

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟻    :    𝐃𝐎    𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘…

LIE  :   soooo much . BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES  :   yes , but he’s always critiquing himself . every once in a while he’ll doubt if he’s doing the right thing .  BELIEVE IN LOVE  :   of course . but he doesn’t expect it much in his life . he doesn’t really know whether or not it has a place there , or if it’s fair to even try to involve someone else , and dating in his circles is     ...     complicated

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟼    :    𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄    𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘    𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑…

BEEN ON STAGE  :   he doesn’t really do any guest interviews or pieces with major news outlets anymore and rarely ever will . he’s regularly participating in NATO summits , UN assemblies , and is a frequent flier at the ICC . when he has time he attends conferences with major non profit groups for social and environmental issues at their request     ---     he’s something of a controversial guest .  CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN  :   he tried to be cis for a while , that was fun

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟽    :    𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒.

FAVORITE COLOR  :    blue . FAVORITE ANIMAL  :   he really thinks that cows are just neat FAVORITE BOOK  :   the narrow road to the deep north , by richard flanagan FAVORITE GAME  :  he’s really not that big into games .

𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟾    :    𝐀𝐆𝐄.

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE  :   december 15 HOW OLD WILL THEY BE  :    44 i think lmao 

Tagging: youuu

[halflingkima]

Finally finished the book I was reading, am procrastinating on the buddy read i’m in the middle of (bc i’m confused and dont wanna reread parts), have about 12 library books due in 5 days, so here’s a first chapter test

After Hannibal by Barry Unsworth: Genuinely don’t know what this is about. something about the place where Hannibal defeated the Romans and gentrifiers of rural Italy in the 90s? won the booker prize, so i’m assuming it’ll bore me to tears

First off, no chapters. Read the first couple.. sections? it’s fine, beginning introductions to an ensemble which tbh sounds promising. none of the characters likeable quite yet, which may prove taxing.

The Sea-Stone Sword by Joel Cornah: Also don’t know what this one’s about. For some reason I recall it being about the False Chosen One trope? and like. a excalibur myth but with pirates, hence sea stone sword..

Didn’t read the full chapter, but seems promising, if closer to a high fantasy. pirate captain’s a woman that i’m already obsessed with but scared we won’t follow since she’s not the main character.

Blonde Indian by Ernestine Hayes: A memoir of a Tlingit woman

Started this a bit ago, and it doesn’t have traditional chapters. it’s slow moving and starts very early in her life. i like the method of the story (told sort of through things her grandmother tells her) but i’m worried i’m getting a little lost in the youth.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid: juding by how hard it was to get my hands on a library copy, i’m assuming everyone knows what this one is. a now-elderly 50s starlet chronicles her life to a reporter.

Just read the first news article but it seems a lot more interesting than i expected. i didn’t realize it had articles and whatnot, so that’s promising. i also didn’t realize her daughter had died which is a huge bummer right out the gate, dang

Thin Places by Marian Musmecci: also don’t know what this one’s about. assuming its a stream-of-consciousness slice-of-life with some magical realism wrt ancestors and whatnot

The introduction is 36 pages and i’m not reading that if i’m not committing to the whole book rn, but while the writing is quite verbose, it’s easier to read than i remember it being from my first attempt in high school

Starless by Jacqueline Carey: synopsis is extremely vauge. i know it’s a high fantasy and the synopsis uses the phrase “soul’s twin” so maybe a romance thing? i know there’s a bodyguard/court assassin thing going on. and an old god rising??

help i love it. stopped after a couple pages because i’m afraid i’d just read the whole book otherwise. it starts off pretty heavy on the lore and land but the voice is irresistible to me for some reason. it reminded me of Silver Under Moonlight, but without Remy’s sass.

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty: A pirate comes out of retirement to track down a missing girl

i gotta get on this cuz there’s a long hold list for this and my borrow is up in like two weeks whoops. i haven’t read her other trilogy but this is supposed to be a prequel anyway. also, pirates! anyway! what a lovely intro. i already have so many questions and am so ready for the story. perhaps the bulk will pass quickly.

She-Wolf, edited by Hannah Priest: an essay collection focusing on analysis of female werewolves in media

the introduction is one of the essays in itself, presenting the purpose of the collection and citing so many studies and whatnot. very wordy, very academic. gotta be in the right headspace and i’m not sure i am lmao

[yelenasdiary]

Flufftober request! Maybe Nat having trouble finding the right time to propose to femR. She keeps getting interrupted by everyone and everything so she just does it spontaneously maybe during a misson or some where odd..you choose!

The Right Time || Flufftober

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha tried and tried so many times, but it was never the right time, something always came up and now she was getting impatient waiting for the right time, taking matters into her own hands in the oddest of times. 

Fluff | 1.2K | No Warnings

Translations: dorogoy (darling), moy malen'kiy ubiytsa (my little assassin)

AC:  Picturing Nat getting so pissed when she’s planned the perfect set out, but something comes up every damn time lmao. Enjoy!!

Flufftober Masterlist

She sighed heavily as Tony paged the two of you once again during a date night dinner. “We’ll make up for it, honey, I promise” you kissed her lips softly before the two of you made your way out to the car. It didn’t matter her that a date night was easily made up for, what bothered her was she’d been trying for months now to ask you one question. One question what she once thought was never going to be in her future, a future she thought was torn away from her. Just this once she needed the world to not be attacked by some aliens or some overpowered rich man in an iron pressed suit, just this once. 

“Hey” you spoke softly and placed your left hand gently on her thigh while she drove back to the compound, “What’s going on inside that beautiful head of yours?” you asked her, seeing the annoyed expression on her face. “It’s nothing” she mumbled, “I just” she sighed, “I just want one night with you uninterrupted” 

“I know baby, I want the same. I promise, once this mission is over, we can take some time off for the just the two of us” you lent over and placed a kiss on her cheek. Nat looked at you for a few short seconds and cocked a brow, “you think Tony is going to allow us some time off? Every week there’s something going on, every week we are called away” her eyes turned back to the road in front of her. “I’ll talk to him” you suggested. 

It was the first time you’d ever seen Nat so frustrated about going on a mission before, you wondered if maybe she was getting to the point of retiring from being an Avenger which was something you never thought would happen and it worried you. “No dorogoy, it’s okay. We’ll find the time” she sent you a soft smile, but her words didn’t convince you of her feelings. 

The quinjet to the target location was silent on Natasha’s behalf, a grumble here and there made Clint back you for answers, but you could only give him a shrug back. You hated seeing her so upset but this was also a win for the team because as everybody knows, Natasha’s a better shot when she’s pissed off. 

You followed Nat into the building of men as bullets flew between the two of you as you ducked for cover, Nat already having her pistols out showing her best shots while you did your thing of martial arts. “That seems to be the security taken care of” Nat turned to you and smiled, being out in the field with you something she had a love for, always being able to be by your side no matter what. “I’ll take the next floor; I’ll meet you on the 3rd?” you smirked as she nodded. “See you in a minute” she winked before dashing off.

Fighting your way through the second floor of the building was pretty easy when you’re up against the lazy security guards who believed the guys on the first floor had everything under control, they were so not ready to fight and it felt like an easy win for you as you kicked and punched, threw, and ducked. “Sorry boys, maybe next time” you joked before taking out the last guard. “Too damn easy” you muttered to yourself as you made your way back to Natasha. 

To no surprise she’d completely cleared the 3rd floor leaving a mess of bodies behind. “Took you long enough” she smirked as you walk up to her, “now, now, nobody said it was a contest” you replied before grabbing a steal pipe and throwing it at the guy behind Natasha, “seems you missed one” you walked by her only for her to gently grab your arm. “Wait a minute” she said, pulling you close to her, “Nat” you chuckled lightly, “we’re in the middle of something” you added before she crashed her lips onto yours. You kissed her back as she gently cupped your face, she smiled against your lips as you melted into her touch. “moy malen'kiy ubiytsa” she spoke softly as you wrapped your arms gently being her neck, “we still have another two floors too cover” you pointed out as she brushed a strain of hair behind your ear, “I’m sure it can wait just a moment” she replied. 

“I highly doubt that” you chuckled. 

Natasha reached into her suit and pulled out a silver ring with a red diamond on it. A gasp left your lips when your eyes made contact with it. “I’m so tired of waiting for the right time because never is the right time” she spoke with a light smirk. “You picked now of all times?!” you joked more so you wouldn’t cry. “Now’s a better time than ever” she replied, one hand on your waist while her free handheld the ring, “vykhodi za menya, dorogoy” she spoke in a serious tone, her eyes searching yours for an answer as tears lightly made their way down your cheek, “like you ever had to ask me” you stroked her face gently, “yes my love” you smiled softly as she slipped the ring onto your finger. 

“Wait, maybe I could keep it in my pocket until we’re done here” she looked up into your eyes once more. “Probably a good idea” you chuckled as she slipped it off. “I love you so much baby, I can’t wait to call you my wife” she placed the ring back in her suit and kissed tenderly, “now let’s get this over with so I can take you home” she smirked. With that the two of you rushed off to the next floor clearly them of enemies while the rest of the team took care of the outside. 

Once the mission was completed, a short and easy one to Natasha’s relief, the team and you made your way back to the quinjet with the stolen files in Tony’s hands. You and Natasha sat at the back; you rested your head on her lap as she ran her fingers through your hair. “You seem better now” Clint looked at the two of you, “needed to kick some guy’s ass I bet?” he added with a joking smirk. “Yeah, something like that” Natasha smirked as you looked up at her, slowly you sat up and moved yourself onto her lap, “Can we tell them?” you whispered as you looked into her green eyes, she wanted to much to keep it a secret for a little while but she was too excited deep down and nodded before reaching into her suit and slipping the ring back onto your finger. “I’m going to have to get used to this” you kissed her cheek. 

“Agh, can you two wait until we’re home?” Tony groaned with an eyeroll. 

“Don’t talk to my fiancé like that” Natasha frowned playfully as all eyes widened and looked at the two of you, “did you just say fiancé?” Wanda asked. You both nodded with smiles of your own. “Oh my god! It finally happened!” Scott joked. The whole team congratulated the two of you and for the first time Natasha felt everything was finally perfect for her. She had her family, her bigger family and now a new family, with you. 

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @natasha-belova | @blackwidow-3 | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight |

[pamplemousseparadox]

(prompt 11: argument) (oh no i have been dreading this one lmao)

Kya skidded into the clinic, her heart in her throat. She always knew there was a chance that call would come, that Lin would get hurt, seriously hurt, on the job. Republic City could be a dangerous place, even after everything that had happened. 

Lin had been hurt every time. Amon. Unalaq. The Red Lotus. Kuvira. Kya had begged her to retire, to rest, to buy a little place out in the country, but Lin had refused every time. 

“Where is she?” Kya demanded. 

“Master Kya!” the junior healer replied. “They only just pulled her in. We don’t know the extent of--”

“Where is she,” Kya repeated. 

“Room seven, but--”

She didn’t stop to listen, pushing right past him. Lin, she had to get to Lin. Had to make sure she was alright, that she hadn’t--

Bile rose in Kya’s throat, tears pricking at her eyes. She slammed through the swinging door, sending it flying into the wall, leaving a hole where the handle had connected. 

Lin was lying on a cot, three healers around her. 

“Move,” Kya said, already bending water from a pitcher. 

“Master Kya, it’s protocol that loved ones--”

“Move!” She inserted herself between two of the resident healers, already inspecting Lin for injury. “What happened?”

“Building collapsed.”

“How?”

“Agni Kai, they think. She went back in for more survivors. The rest made it out.”

Kya squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. “Status?”

“Multiple broken bones, internal bleeding, a number of lacerations. She was conscious at the scene, we sedated her.” The resident healer placed a hand on Kya’s arm. “We’ve got this.”

Kya faltered. She knew the rules, she’d helped write them herself, and yet she couldn’t imagine leaving Lin’s side. “No. I’m fine, let’s just... let’s just get to work.” She bent the water against Lin’s skin, her heart breaking a little more with every cut she worked to heal. 

It was hours before they finished, exhausted, run off their feet. The others left Kya alone with Lin, resting her head on the cot. 

“Hey,” Lin said, her voice raspy. 

“Thank the spirits,” Kya said, gently tracing a finger along Lin’s jaw. “I was so worried.”

“The others?”

“They’re all fine. Minor injuries only.”

Lin closed her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. “Good.”

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Lin.”

“What?” Lin opened her eyes again, frowning now. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Do you have any idea the terror I feel, every time I hear that you’ve been hurt? Every time, worrying I won’t see you again?”

“It’s my job, Kya.”

“Then retire!”

“I still have a few good years left in me. Besides, none of the captains are ready yet.”

“They’ll never be ready! Not ready enough for you to finally give this all up!”

Lin sat up with a grimace, holding her arm. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious. I just spent four hours healing you, alongside three other resident healers. Do you have any idea how close you came to--to--” A sob caught in her throat, stopping her short. “Spirits, Lin! I thought I’d lost you! Again!”

“You didn’t. I’m right here.” Lin reached out for Kya’s hand, but she pulled it away.

“How close will it be next time? Or the time after that?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to say.”

“You’ve already been in your post far longer than your mother, how much more do you think you need to take before you’re worthy?”

Lin frowned. “It’s not about that.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Of course not! Republic City is still rebuilding, everything is a mess with all the temporary housing, with the gangs ramping everything up, with--”

“Lin, I am begging you. Please, just... what about light duty?”

“No.”

“Not even for a month?”

“No.”

Kya folded her arms across her chest. “And what if I give you an ultimatum?”

“Please don’t.” Lin reached out again, this time grasping Kya’s fingers and pulling them to her chest to rest over her wrappings. “Don’t make me choose, Kya.”

“I wish you knew how much I worry.”

“I know. I felt the same when you fought with the Red Lotus.”

“And what if I was out doing that every week?”

Lin sighed quietly. “Okay, Kya. I hear you.”

“And?”

“I’ll be more careful.”

“That’s not quite what I was looking for.”

“Light duty for a month, and that’s my final offer.”

Kya searched Lin’s face intently. “Retirement in 18 months, or I move to the country by myself.”

“Alright, my love,” Lin relented. “Two years and we have a deal, but I still want to be in charge of training new cadets. I’m unlikely to get my ass kicked with those kids.”

“Fine,” Kya said, reaching out for her. “Don’t scare me like this again.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it.”

Lin looked into her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind Kya’s ear. “Okay.”

[not-poignant]

Since I am completely not ready to part with these characters from the series (that previous chapter was CRIMINAL!! MY COMFORT CHARACTER!!! GWYN, MY BOY!!! /cries), I'd like to ask, would it still be possible or would you ever consider of making another au for them? (Like the Nascent Diplomat, The Spoils of The Spoiled, etc.)

I don't like to ever rule anything out, but the fact is, right now, I just don't want to keep hurting those characters.

And that means I just don't want to write those characters as central characters anymore, outside of The Nascent Diplomat, which we can all agree is generally the softest and gentlest and most slow burn tenderest version of Gwyn and Augus that exists so far. But still has a fuckton of angst because like, it's me, and I hate writing fluff with every inch of my body until we get to the end or it's really really earned.

My general perspective is like, I've been hurting these characters pretty intensely for nearly a decade, across millions of words, the equivalent of tens of books, and they've earned a break, and so have I, lol. I have new characters to hurt, lmao.

(This is where fanfiction is a wonderful thing, imho).

I am still writing Fae Tales AUs, for example Underline the Black will be an Efnisien/Gary AU with some familiar Fae Tales faces, but I don't plan on centralising Gwyn and Augus in an AU or main story outside of The Nascent Diplomat (or maybe a oneshot or two) for hopefully a good long while - like half a decade, maybe more. And by then, I really hope I've written enough new characters that there's a plenitude of options for AUs etc. across many, many characters.

I love love love so much that people love Gwyn and Augus so much. And I really love them too, they have - whether it's professional or not - become very well-realised, 'real' kind of personalities to me. And it's hit a point where I just kind of...get really drained hurting them. I mean it's very repetitive, it has been a decade basically, and it starts to feel like 'oh boy, guys, I've done nearly everything to you, and I think maybe you just deserve a quiet retirement in all your happy endings across all your stories.'

I also don't want to become a person who writes characters to make other people happy, who then becomes cynical and bitter towards the whole process, or who feels trapped. We've seen what happens in books and TV shows etc. when the creators and writers get tired of a franchise or a series - and to put it nicely - it turns to shit, and creators tend to stop focusing on the integrity of the story. So I'm bailing now, while I believe I've still done well by these characters, still love them, and am not sitting here feeling cynical or bitter because folks want me to write about them for another decade. Instead I get to feel grateful, a little sad, very excited, and relieved that I'm stopping outside of a gentle side story and soft landing. :)

Obviously for folks new to Augus and Gwyn - even if you're 'new' as in the last year, or two years, or five years - it might not feel like you've spent enough time with them. I am sorry for that! They have like the equivalent of 30 full-sized novels about them in serial format, and I am a little spent! I welcome you to realise what I have - which is that a version of those characters will always be with you, and you can create as many new stories for them as you like in your head, and there's always re-reading.

For me, personally, I will mostly just be writing them a lot of mental happy endings. 10 years of being under my very brutal, angst-loving hands, and I think they've more than earned their retirement as my flagship OTP.

At least for another few years anyway. :D

[evacado3]

Manipulator

One-shot Though I can't really say it's Yujinxreader

80% talking 20% plot 100% toxic

Word count: 770

Thoughts circled your head while laying on the bed, there wasn't a day passed by without thinking of him, and the life you chose to give up. You could say you might have been a little depressed after that, but it's been a year, almost time to move on.

The doorbell rang loudly, alerting you of some uninvited guests, "At this hour? It's 12am." you let an irritated sigh, moving out of the comfortable position you finally found.

Swinging open the door, you were ready to yell at whoever dared to visit this late.

"HEY WHA- Yujin?"

"Hey y/n, missed me?" he smiled, the two men following behind him were too familiar for your liking.

"You... Why, what are you doing here. Why would you bring those two, came here to kill me?" you snickered. Both of you knew that could never happen, you were more useful than them combined.

"Well well, I was expecting more of a warm welcome from our ex-informer. How's life after retiring?" that was a sarcastic low blow, especially when he knew the reason why you quitted.

Talking to him even after a year gave you immense pressure, your stomach was churning, and your face is basically red.

"That was low, say why bother coming this late."

"Would you mind if we let ourselves in first?"

-----

The air felt heavy where the four of you sat down, the larger man took out a vintage-looking wine bottle and a case that contained two glasses.

"I'm not drinking your poisoned shit." you deadpanned, there's no way anyone would risk playing games with Yujin.

He poured you some of the dark liquid anyways, returning to his seat after placing a notorious golden badge next to the glass.

"Yujin I-"

"Come back y/n, we need you." he leans forward with his elbows on the table, "Workers are facing a problem with the lack of evidence provided, only you could help."

"I'm retired ok, I'm sick of that environment. What I wanted while creating Workers hasn't shown in any of the affiliates and you used my information to kill people Yujin, murder." You emphasized the last word. That wasn't easy to let out, it's not easy saying 'no' to the person you love.

He chuckled before continuing, "But the talent's still there, and you didn't think I came empty-handed right?" Yujin signaled the other man, to which he responded by pulling out a black suitcase. "One billion won y/n, is that enough to hook you back?"

Your eyes widened, not in amusement. Does he think I could be bought with money? He thinks I'm that kind of person? Sure you had put on a facade to mask your feeling, projecting them onto the riches instead. But honestly, you wished he'd see more than that, into your real desires.

"You can make millions y/n, haven't you always been about money?" he convinced, and you didn't doubt him. Workers have gotten big now you've withdrawn from the business, the amount you could make just by agreeing with his offer is something some people may never earn.

"Yujin..." you stared down to your thighs. The thought of returning back to his side sounds too good to be true, but will he again ignore your ambitions? You knew Yujin doesn't play by the rules, the company has gotten big because of this. Though there's no way you could stop him, you're were, and will always be his stepping stone.

"Come back to me y/n, there are no cons to this proposal." he used a serious voice, is he sincere in asking for me?

Rejections are hard, you've always wondered how Yujin makes it look so easy. So you could only nod, the courage you build up to quit was broken down by his one request.

He openly smirked towards the other two men, giving them a small thumbs up to them under the table.

So, when is he going to stop using your love against you?

When is he gonna realize your attention has always been on him and not the money? That if there's anything he wanted, you'd climb more than mountains just to achieve it. And that if only he'd take your love seriously, you'd be his slave.

So why is he still using this toxic method, still manipulating your feelings?

"It's late, do you wanna stay her-"

"No, I'm leaving."

No hesitation in his harsh words. He gave you a genuine-looking smile, though it doesn't even reach his eyes, "I love you." he lied.

"I love you too." you answered, but with all the truth that laid in your heart.

====================

I'm getting no requests lmao so I'm working on my own ones, I'm was going to post a Jake one-shot but somehow did this first…

Can’t tell me Yujin isn’t toxic

And I guess I kinda got this idea from my oc's background

[writingonsaturn]

Better Unsaid

a/n okay this has been all over the place!! it was originally going to be a blurb and darker and closer to smutty (so keep your eyes out for that??? lol), but then I made it softer and the concept got away from me and it got soooo much longer than expected lmao and i still dont love where it ended so maybe part 2?? i have the idea i just dont know lol 

summary: Reader is a princess and Anakin has been her guard during the most public season for the past two years (not the most logical thing but just go with it lol, it gets explained better in the fic) and after a near death experience the two are conveniently forced into a....

ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE *cough cough* ONE BED TROPE WITH ONE PERSON HAVING TO WAKE UP THE OTHER BC THEYRE HAVING A NIGHTMARE,, :)))))))

  --

His smugness is the only thing about him I can consider ‘ugly’. And because I am so desperate to not have feeling for Anakin, the Jedi who has been assigned to protect me through coronation season (which lasts for most of winter), for the last two coronation seasons, I hold onto my distaste for that side of him. Which is why I suppress my laugh as he waits for my reaction with that confident smile. 

“Come on, that was funny.” 

Rolling my eyes, I let myself sit on my bed. I can’t tell if he’s actually funny or if my evening has been so boring that his sense of humor has started to become appealing to me due to comparison. In short, the suitor I was forced to spend an entire evening with lacked personality so much I’m starting to find Anakin funny.

“You’re much more entertaining than this evening’s suitor.” 

Anakin’s expression shifts slightly, his assured grin dropping slightly. “Another miss?” 

“You have no idea.” I relax slightly, taking a moment to be glad that I completed my father’s request and now I can just enjoy the time I have with Anakin. “I know my father’s desperate to make sure my marriage is useful for our people and that he worries about this selection process because he always thought my mother would be here to help, but sometimes I wish he wouldn’t rush it so much. It feels like all he wants me for is to marry me off in exchange of finance or weaponry or something diplomatic.” 

“You’re more than that.” His response is so soft I think I might have missed it if I needed it less. I curse myself for feeling so validated by him. His words shouldn’t mean anything to me. After all, he could easily just be saying that because agreeing with my father will just make me more unpleasant to be around. 

I smile politely while avoiding his eyes. I keep my hands on either side of me, fighting the urge to fidget. “Thank you, Anakin.” My words sound weak in my own ears, so I’m sure he notices my shift in mood. “I’m tired today, I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Normally, I’d be able to shrug off these kinds of things, but the beginning of Coronation Season makes me irritable. The anniversary of my mother’s death hits me harder each year. 

“Y/n.” My name comes out so velvety I can’t find it in myself to interrupt him. “You are more than someone meant to be used as some kind of royal currency, and I mean that as more than just a...friend.” 

I let his last word linger. We’ve tried so many titles that never seem to fit right. He’s the chosen one, one of the most powerful Jedi to exist, and the Jedi assigned to protect me each Coronation Season because that’s when my mother was assassinated. He’s my guard, but we’ve spent too many nights laughing together and talking about everything and anything. And I guess now he’s my friend, even though sometimes when he looks at me in a certain way or sits too close to me or reaches for my hand to guide me somewhere I can’t breathe right. 

“Anakin, you know I love when you’re here, even though sometimes you drive me insane. And I appreciate your kindness, but your words can’t change the truth. That’s how my father sees me and he’s not exactly wrong. I’m not a son, I haven’t been raised to lead an army or lead much, and--” 

“I’ve seen you in meeting after meeting, convention after convention. I’ve witnessed the way you handle real problems and I know how you care about your people. You’d make a great leader, you don’t need a husband to be valuable.” 

My chest swells, feelings I never let myself think about mixing with thoughts of Anakin that I’ve spent so long trying to avoid. “That settles it, you’re my favorite person.” 

He grins, the look warm enough to melt the odd lump in my throat. I fight down a smile as he steps forward. “And I wasn’t before?” 

“I take it back--your head’s big enough without the additional praise.” 

Rolling my eyes, I lean back slightly in order to recreate the distance he so easily destroyed. “And I thought you had finally warmed up to me, princess.” 

The use of my title makes me skeptical. The last time Anakin used it was when he was trying to ease me so that I’d walk around the palace garden so he had an excuse to do the same. It was beyond late and I was half asleep, but he had os much energy he was desperate and just needed to do one more thing. I felt bad that his schedule revolved so heavily around mine (and when he softens his eyes and says please, I’m left incapable of saying the word ‘no’) so I agreed. 

“What do you want?” 

Anakin dramatically clutches a hand over his heart. He throws his head back slightly as if he’s just taken a fatal blow. “When did you turn so cynical? I’ve been back for three days and I’m starting to believe you’re a different person now.” 

Yeah...he’s definitely getting ready to ask for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth. Then again, everything with him seems to be worth it in some capacity. Even if it’s just that one smile he gets when he’s truly content and doesn’t think anyone’s looking. 

“Mhm,” I mumble, still fighting a grin, “so you’re not going to ask me anything?” 

His lips part slightly as he exhales. I watch the way his eyes narrow at my victorious expression. “I don’t have anything to ask of you, but I do have a small request. A request so small you won’t have to do anything but say yes.”

Suspicious. Too easy. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“You just said I was your favorite person. Remember that.” 

I’m too tired for his coyness. I’d rather him make his ridiculous request now so that I can be in bed within the hour. Though I can’t pretend I don’t normally feel better after letting him drag me along on whatever ‘adventure’ he just needed to complete while also not letting me out of his sight. I used to tell him that I wouldn’t tell anyone if I wasn’t under supervision for an hour or two a day, but he dismissed the idea immediately. That’s been the cornerstone of everything. 

“What is it?” 

He sighs once, tilting his head slightly. The way his eyes soften tells me he’s already won at least half the battle. “They still haven’t caught the attempted--” Anakin pauses, something behind his eyes darkening. I know what he’s remembering. Last night, an assassin had gotten closer than they ever had. I had almost been shot in the garden, Anakin had barely pushed me to the ground in time. A fact he’s been beating himself up for since, especially considering that no one has been able to find my attempted killer yet. “They were so close to you. They were within palace limits and they disappeared like they never existed. Who’s to say they don’t work here and are waiting for the next moment you’re exposed? Who’s to say they aren’t here tonight, waiting for me to retire for the night?” 

I didn’t realize how my near death experience had been so personal to him. He, like everyone else, was beyond frantic after it happened. But my father put an end to verbal worry before it could truly begin. He said the best thing we could do was act like everything was fine as the assailant was searched for. Anakin hadn’t been particularly cheery after my father instructed the guards to focus their search on known enemies instead of prioritizing venting the staff closest to me. I comforted him as best as I could, but he didn’t feel like speaking about it and I had to worry about the suitor meeting my father wouldn’t let me cancel. 

“Anakin, you’re right next door to me.” I have to fight the urge to reach for him. “I was fine because of you, and I will be fine because of you.” 

He sighs once, his expression not easing. “And if the person is silent? The attacker could easily work in the palace, but no one wanted to direct the search inwards.” His words are more strained than I’ve ever heard them be. “I think it’d be smart for me to stay in here. I know you’ve refused having a guard stay in your room or outside your door, but...” Anakin sighs. “Your safety would be more assured.” 

Him staying in my room? The only line I’ve ever been allowed to draw, and I’m actually considering letting that go. If he seemed even slightly less sad, I wouldn’t even consider it. It’s not a good idea. I’m already too attached to him. “Anakin--” 

“I’d feel more assured.” 

Damn him. Stupid, extremely sweet Anakin who makes saying no to him impossible. I stretch my arm forward, letting my hand squeezes his forearm gently. “There’s no reason to not feel assured.” He doesn’t ease, the cloudiness behind his eyes remains stubborn. “You’re still worried.” No reaction, the haze that’s taken him isn’t letting go. “Fine--but tell no one or my father is going to take to posting guards at my door every night.” 

...I guess there are worse ways to spend a night. Which is kind of a problem since I’m trying to...enjoy Anakin less. Ugh, I even sound dumb in my head. “I promise, princess.” 

Ugh, he’s adorable. “You’re intolerable.” I stand from he foot of my bed and pull back the covers on my bed. He doesn’t reply, something dark still playing for him. I watch him move to face the door. Wait--is he doing what I think he’s doing? “No, you’re not going to stand there all night. You need sleep.” He has the audacity to give me an annoyed look. “I already didn’t want to do this so now you have to listen to my conditions.” 

He raises an eyebrow, his lips pressing together oddly. He’s trying to gauge something from my expression, perhaps he’s looking for buttons to press to get his way. I guess I look as stubborn as I feel because instead of arguing he just sits on the floor. What? I watch him cautiously, trying to figure out if this is some weird argument trick. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What you asked.”

And just like that I’ve put myself in a position that I will no doubt regret terribly the second common sense returns to me. There’s no way to deny that Anakin and I are closer than we probably should be. We’ve felt like friends first since the day we first met. I can’t think of any reason to not offer to let him sleep in my bed except those stupid budding feelings I refuse to label. 

It’s not like I actually like him. I can’t--I’m going to be married to some nobleman and he’s prohibited from ever forming attachments. I’m not even sure if we’re allowed to be friends. Having actual feelings for him would be so, so pointless. It would just lead to heartache and the ruining of the one genuine relationship I have. I’m just a tiny bit confused right now because he’s objectively really attractive and he’s always there for me. Always there to make a joke after a particularly rough meeting. Always there to offer me a supportive smile. Always there to humble me when I teeter on acting like my father. 

Anyone’s heart would flutter at that, so it doesn’t mean anything. And if it does, I need to squash any budding feelings now before I mess things up. Which is why I should keep him at arm’s length until I get it together. But is that fair to him? And what if doing that is making things worse? What if it’s just reinforcing the idea of having feelings? 

This is ridiculous. I’m going to get over this if it kills me. It’s just a bed and it’s only sleeping. I’m meant to be able to lead an entire union and I can’t sleep next to someone and act normal?” “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” 

The second the words leave my mouth I regret it all. What’s wrong with me? Did I seriously think I’d be okay?

I hear his soft exhale, “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse places than on your marble floor.” 

His voice sounds so weighted I can’t help but feel bad for not noticing that he’s still bothered. Whether he’s upset about his near miss or the fact that my father didn’t take his advice, I don’t know. But something’s wrong. The easy thing to do would be to just let him sleep it off. The smart thing to do would be to leave him alone until tomorrow. 

I think of all the times that I’ve been upset and Anakin had refused to let me go to sleep angry or sad or overwhelmed. “I know, but it’s really not a big deal. It’s not like we don’t know each other. I mean, last Coronation Season you buttoned me into more gowns than my handmaid. And I owe you for saving me from one of the worst suitors I’ve ever had.” 

“I’m starting to think we need to develop some kind of signal.” 

The tiny bit of lightness that’s returned to his voice makes all of my internal struggle feel worth it. “You always seem to know.” 

“That’s because when you’re reaching your limit, that one line appears between your eyebrows.”

I didn’t realize I had such a tell. I try to remember the way that the suitor drawled on and on about how amazing he was and how he couldn’t wait for the day he had a bride to bear his children and plan (tedious) social events. My hand moves to my forehead, trying to feel the crease Anakin mentioned. Can everyone tell when I’m growing tired? Am I that transparent? 

Anakin’s slight laugh steals my attention. He’s facing me again, his elbow holding his head up on the foot of my bed. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t--I don’t think i get a crease between my eyebrows when I’m irritated.” 

I hear him stand. I don’t realize he’s approaching me until he’s so close I could touch him without even needing. to stretch. “No, when you’re irritated you raise your eyebrows slightly, because that’s when you’re at your most sarcastic.” 

“Really?” 

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “Just like that.” I force myself to keep my expression blank. “When you’re reaching your limit, your eyebrows crease here.” His finger taps the space between my brows so gently I almost don’t realize what he’s doing. “And when you’re trying not to laugh--which is often, because you refuse to admit that I’m funny--you press your lips together in a way that forms a dimple here.” The knuckle of his pointer finger brushes against the bottom of my cheek. 

I bite my tongue to fight the warmth spreading across my face. “I didn’t realize i was so transparent.”

“I can’t always tell what you’re thinking.” 

“I’ll take it.” Maybe if I was less tired, I’d argue a little more. “You know you’re not that difficult to read either.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, I can tell when you’re just being stubborn for the sake of it. I can see it in your eyes and you’re doing it right now.” 

His expression harshens slightly before softening. “Y/n--” 

“I’m not wrong.” 

He sighs once, stepping back. I watch him pace around my bed before taking a seat on the edge of my other side of the bed. “Are you happy now?” 

“Happy that I won? Absolutely.” 

Anakin halfheartedly glares at me. “Careful, add a crown and a robe that trails down a throne and I’d feel like I was speaking to your father.” 

“Careful, another side comment like that and I’ll ‘accidentally’ kick you off the bed in the middle of the night.” 

“Not if I kick you off the bed first.” 

I trace a thoughtless pattern on the fabric of my bedsheets. “What are you? Twelve?” 

“I’m older than you.” 

“Barely.” I continue the thoughtless pattern tracing as I fight the sleep from my eyes. “Your comebacks are usually more creative than that.” 

He exhales, relaxing slightly as he rests his back against a pillow. “I’m tired, like you claimed to be.” His eyes flutter slightly, a bit of his exhaustion showing. “Go to sleep.” 

I should. I’m too old to think I can put off a tomorrow I don’t want by just staying up. This is stupid. I’m too old to think I can put off the anniversary of my mother’s death by going to bed. She had been taken from us on castle grounds, killed by a revolutionist who viewed my mother as a class traitor. I still remember the way she slumped to the ground, her blood staining the snow beneath her. I remember the way the guards were so busy chasing her killer no one thought to keep me away from the body. 

“Y/n?” 

I scratch the back of my arm in hopes of banishing my thoughts. “Yes?” 

“You’re being quiet.” 

“You said to go to sleep, that tends to be a quiet thing.” 

I can feel his eyes on me. “Since when do you listen to me?” Not trusting myself to actually reply, I only offer him a hum of acknowledgement. “I know you’re not half asleep.” 

Folding my hands on my lap, I avoid his gaze. “It’s tomorrow.” 

I don’t know why I trust him to understand my vague response, but I do. His silence stretches over us like a thin blanket on a cold night. Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m implying. I can always correct him tomorrow, when my eyelids are no longer as heavy as my heart. The more seconds that pass in total silence, the more I think that maybe he’s fallen asleep. 

I wouldn’t be surprised, Anakin has seemed tired recently, like some additional weight he won’t share with anyone has been thrust onto his shoulders. A small part of me rolls in guilt. I need to be a better friend, just because I’m suddenly a little too aware of him doesn’t mean I can shrug him off and ignore him. 

My hand almost flinches away from the feeling of something surprisingly warm touching my pinky. When I realize that it’s just Anakin and that the contact was probably accidental, I force myself to ease. It’s not like we’ve never touched before, I don’t understand why I’m making it weird. Sitting in my bed in the dark doesn’t change anything. His hand turns slightly, pressing into mine a little more assuredly. Biting my tongue, I turn my hand slightly, exposing my palm. And just like that, our fingers intertwine. 

“She would have been proud of you.” His voice comes out so low I barely register the words. 

The words shouldn’t mean much to me--he never knew my mother and has no way to know what she wanted me to be.--and yet I find comfort in them. I smile, turning my head towards him. “You didn’t even know her.” 

He rolls his eyes slightly, relaxing further before squeezing my hand once. “Who wouldn’t be proud of you? You’re kind and smart and decent to be around when you’re not telling me what to do.” 

My heart swells in my chest so much I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. Could he be cuter? “Yeah...now I’m sure you’re my favorite person.” 

“Now you’re sure?” 

The smugness in his voice has me rolling my eyes. “Don’t make me regret saying that.” 

“Maybe in the morning,” he says easily, “now go to sleep. There’s nothing worse than escorting you from meeting to meeting while you’re tired.” 

“I’m not that bad.” Even in this darkness, I can make out the way he raises an eyebrow. “Shut up--I’m going to sleep, but not because of you.” 

He lets out a slight huff. “You’re impossible.” 

The desire to respond to his comment is not enough for me to win the fight against the weight of my eyelids. The moment my eyes shut, I feel powerless to anything that isn’t sleep. I let myself fall into a weightless sleep, my only tether being the Anakin’s fingers around mine. 

--

A distant noise yanks me from my sleep. I’m too drowsy to do anything but register the sound. I hear another similar...whine? cry? I can’t tell and I’m too asleep to figure it out. I almost fall asleep again, but a third distressed sound keeps me from it. I wipe my eyes lazily with the back of my hand as I try to sit up. 

Squinting, I make out a figure on my bed. It takes me a moment to remember Anakin and how I fell asleep. Our hands are still together and no light is peering through my window so it can’t be that long since I fell asleep. Another disgruntled sound carries itself throughout the room. I shift slightly, leaning over Anakin cautiously. 

Golden brown curls are beginning to stick to his forehead and his eyebrows are drawn together sharply. He’s having a nightmare.  I shift even further forward before cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder before squeezing him gently. 

“Anakin,” I whisper, “it’s not--it’s not real.” His eyebrows draw together even more harshly. I shake him a little more stubbornly. “Anakin, wake up--you’re having a ni--”

 My forearm is grabbed so suddenly I barely register it before I feel my back shoved into my mattress. I blink twice. His dark eyes are frantic and the look on his face is far from the gentle, easygoing expression I’m used to. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling from above me. I swallow a slight panic and something I don’t understand as I try to keep my eyes on his face and my thoughts away from how close he is. Anakin pries his fingers from my forearm one by one until only his palm is touching me. 

“Y/n, I--” 

“It’s okay.” Honestly, I’m more worried about his uneven breathing than the way he grabbed me. I can’t imagine everything he’s been through or how justified his nightmares are. Anakin moves his hand away from me. I don’t sit up until he’s off of me and sitting with his back against my headboard. “It’s okay--I just--you were having a nightmare and I thought I should wake you.” He doesn’t react. I turn my body further, keeping my back straight. Anakin doesn’t move, and the longer he stays still, the more I feel like I should say something else. “Do you want talk about it? Or do--do you want to talk about something else? Or go to sleep? Or get some water? Or--” The far off look behind his eyes silences me. I scoot forward slightly. “You’re okay, Anakin, I promise.” 

His head turns at that, his eyes searching mine for something I don’t understand. “I thought...” He cuts himself off by swallowing once. 

I shift a little more, trying to find anything normal in his expression. “Thought what?” 

Anakin’s hand is on my arm so quickly I don’t even register his movement. I let his fingers press into my skin. He’s holding onto me like I’m a figment of a dream and he’s beginning to wake up. “I thought I’d failed.” He exhales, the sound heavy. “Failed you and that you’d--I  thought I had lost you.” 

A lump rises in my throat, thick and unmoving. Cautiously, I place my hand over the one still gripping my shoulder like a lifeline. “You didn’t. Nothing happened, it was just a dream.” 

His gaze falls to the ground before he repeats the last of my words. “Just a dream.” There’s a hollowness to his voice I don’t understand. 

I exhale, carefully running my thumb over his knuckles. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything but his expression hardens again. I let us sit there like that for a long minute. “I promise.” 

“You can’t promise things like that.”

I sigh, unsure of where to go from here. “Bad dreams are only bad dreams.” He doesn’t reply. “I think you should try to get some more sleep.” 

Anakin is unresponsive. I shift back, but before I can transition from almost being on top of him to just sitting next to him, he pulls on my arm to keep in place. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” 

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” 

“You almost died today, y/n. I was right there and if I had been a second later--” 

“But you weren’t.” He doesn’t ease. “You were there and I was fine. Don’t torment yourself over what could have been. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” 

“If anything ever happened to y--” 

“It’s not going to,” I whisper, ignoring the way his hold on my arm tightens even further, “Especially this time a year when I have a pretty good gau--” 

He tilts his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together and a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Pretty good? Really?” 

“Someone needs to watch your ego, chosen one.” This time when he tries for a smile, the look has some strength behind it. Relief pools in my stomach. “Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s a busy day and when you’re sleepy you’re beyond irritable.”  

Anakin lets me pull away enough to lay down, but he doesn’t follow. Not for a long second. When he does, his movements are impossibly rigid. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as carefully as I can manage. 

“Y/n?” 

I regret turning my head immediately. I didn’t realize how close he was. It would take no effort from me to make our lips meet. Wait--why am I thinking of that? I’m not allowed to think of stuff like that...especially not about him. 

“Yes?”

He lets out a breath before moving his hand. I don’t understand his hesitation until I feel his hand cupping my cheek gently. “What if next time I’m not enough? What if next time I lose you because I’m not strong enough?” 

I never thought my death would be such a personal thing to him. Sure, I knew that we had some kind of bond, some kind of friendship, and that my death would bring sadness. But I never imagined I’d matter enough to him that thoughts of my death would be frightening enough to slip into his subconscious and become a thing of nightmares. 

“You are enough. Nothing is going to happen to me and if it does it’s not going to be because of you.” Anakin’s lips press together in a way that implies serious uncertainty. His thumb brushes across my cheek so unexpectedly I almost ask him what he’s doing. The intensity behind his eyes is enough to burn me. “Was your dream really that bad?” 

He lets out an uncertain breath as his eyebrows draw together. I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. “It’s more than the dream. I...y/n, princess,” he tacts on, a hint of humor returning to him, “you’re more than a mission to me.” 

The admission is so soft I can’t help but smile. “I know, Anakin, we’re--” 

“You’re more than a friend to me.” I don’t know if my blood freezes in my veins or if my lungs don’t contract when they should or if my heart literally skips a beat, but I know something in me completely stops at his words. “I--” 

“Don’t say it.” I don’t know how I managed to cut him off so sharply and I’m a little disappointed when I do, but it’s the right thing to do. Thought of the code that’s so important to him have clouded half the immense shock and joy swelling in my chest. “What you’re trying to say...I um, I want to say the same.” I try to drop my gaze but he tilts my head up slightly with his hand. “But we shouldn’t, you know that.” 

"You want to us to pretend that nothing’s different? You want me to escort you from meetings with one suitor to the next every Coronation Season until you’re married off?” 

“No, I’m not saying that. The point is that I’m not saying anything.” His eyebrows draw together in uncertainty. “Isn’t it enough for now, for both of us to just know? If we say it...that could mean bad things for you. And I don’t want to be a bad thing for you.” 

“You could never be.”

It’d be so easy to believe him. To believe him and to let him say what I never imagined I’d be able to hear and damn the consequences of tomorrow. “Can we just refrain from verbally saying anything until you’re sure?” 

“I’m sure right now. I’ve been sure since the first time we ever walked in the garden together. The night after the first Coronation Ball I escorted you to.” 

I remember that night well. The way he hadn’t scolded me for needing air or taking off my uncomfortably high heels to walk in the grass. “If you mean it, you won’t say it yet. I refuse to get in the way of what you’re meant for.”

His thumb runs my cheek entirely, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Are you capable of not disagreeing with me?” 

Rolling my eyes slightly, I place my hand over his. “Probably not.” 

Anakin exhales, his playful irritation clear in the sound. “You’re impossible when you’re tired.” 

“I am not tired.” 

“I can see the sleep in your eyes.” 

“I can see it in yours too.” 

He pauses, eyebrows drawn together cautiously. “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

He must be more tired than I thought if he’s compromising with me so quickly. “Deal.” 

Neither of us close our eyes for a long second, we just watch each other with wide eyes. It still doesn’t feel like he’s eased, but he’s come back to me so much more than he was earlier. I’ll make sure to check how he’s feeling in the morning. The first morning after we’ve...I don’t know. 

I’m trying really hard not to get excited because anything that’s been not said could be taken back so easily. That’s the point--but it’s hard not to let my heart get ahead of my rationality. I’ll just take the good for what it is for now and tomorrow we can figure out the rest. Even though he’s not allowed to form attachments and my father really wants to marry me off to foreign royalty.

Tomorrow. This can begin to be solved tomorrow. My eyes shut and I let myself roll fully onto my back. The second I’m comfortably settled, I feel Anakin shift against the bed. I’m too tired to open my eyes until I feel a weight placed against my chest. 

I open my eyes on instinct, less surprised than I should be when I see Anakin’s head resting against my chest. Before I can speak, I feel his arm rest against my side. “Anakin,” I breathe, my hand moving to smooth his hair out of his face the way I’ve wanted to for so long. “What did we just talk about?” 

“You said not to say anything,” he mumbles comfortably, “I’m not saying anything.” ...It is kind of the ideal compromise. Especially since I’m too tired to find reason and he feels so warm. “I can feel you overthinking. Go back to smoothing my hair before I have to rise and stand at your door so that your handmaid comes to wake you. Something tells me she’d be glad for the excuse to get rid of me.” 

That might be the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard him say. Selma is the most patient woman in the palace. “Selma would never report anything involving me, I can’t believe you don’t like her. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”  

“She’s the one that doesn’t like me,” he says, “she always watches me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m planning on stealing you away.” 

Too tired to fight my smile, I go back to smoothing his hair out with my fingers. After a moment, he lets out an exhale that relaxes his entire body. “Goodnight, princess.” 

“Goodnight.” The word is barely a mumble as I feel sleep tug against me for the second time tonight. 

It’s strange, but my excitement doesn’t diminish my tiredness, it just makes the prospect of rest feel so much fuller. Safer. Because there’s so much to sort out and grieve but it’s okay, because we have the time and everything feels okay because Anakin is here, right beneath my fingertips. 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 317: My Boy Was Just Like Me

Previously on BnHA: AFO randomly blew up Lady Nagant as a good reminder of why you should never make a deal with this fucking guy, smdh. Hawks was all “well if it isn’t my two best friends, Deku and Lady Nagant, both of whom I respect and love tremendously.” Everyone was all “??” and Horikoshi was all “shh... just pretend” because it was too embarrassing for him to admit that he forgot to write a couple of set-up flashbacks I guess. Anyway so Hawks got Lady to tell them where AFO was hiding out, and everyone said goodbye to her and Overhaul, who never did get to see his boss (sorry buddy, I’ll send you a vial of my tears in the mail), and headed out to a house in the woods. AFO was all “hello Deku :) :) it sure is fun making you suffer :) :) :) anyways this is a trap”, and blew up the house. Yeah, we all here are getting reaaaaaaaal tired of your shit, AFO.

Today on BnHA: The Hawksquad and Edgeplatoon meet in a warehouse and are all “what should we do about the fact that everything sucks?” Mt. Lady is all “here’s a thought, what if we tried battling AFO with more than six people.” Hawks and Endeavor are all “great initiative, but just a friendly reminder that our friends also suck and would probably betray Deku which would suck further still.” Shouto is all “ANSWER THE PHONE DAD” and Endeavor is all “[IRONICALLY DOESN’T ANSWER THE PHONE].” Meanwhile over in Sadtown, capital of Sadland Prefecture, Japan, Deku is all “All Might, as you can clearly see I am completely fine and good, never been better in fact, definitely not caught up in the throes of an epic mental breakdown which is shutting me down emotionally, anyway so on that note I would like to leave you now goodbye!!” All Might is all “[can’t actually form any words because he’s too distraught].” Fandom is all “o(╥﹏╥)o.” Horikoshi is all “(*＾-’) 乃 [pew pew finger guns and barrel rolls into the darkness].”

sweet jesus lord

this literally doesn’t even look like Deku anymore?? this looks like Dark!Deku who shows up to fight you in that one room in the Water Temple. he looks like he’s about to crawl out of my television set and murder me with his psychic powers good lord

holy shit lmao Horikoshi is really just shrugging his shoulders and resolving last week’s cliffhanger with a single line of dialogue

fire is no one’s weakness. idk what other options you’ve got, AFO, but you’re gonna have to go back to the drawing board. maybe try bees or something. I’m just saying. we’re all expecting fire at this point but nobody is expecting bees

anyway so now they’re all sitting in some warehouse somewhere chatting about it I guess. shoutout to Horikoshi for finally giving my man Edgeshot some more dialogue at long last

well, Edgeshot, to answer your question, she exploded. so naturally she’s fine

nah just kidding, Hawks says she won’t be able to help them out much because she’s recovering from being exploded. this is the part where we all ignore the fact that Hawks got set on fire for like a full ten minutes back during the War arc and was only in the hospital for a day. anyways enjoy your temporary plot hiatus Nagant

man there’s a lot of dialogue here and I’m trying to figure out where to insert commentary but it’s kinda difficult lol. basically, Edge and the others are saying that they should gather up the other remaining heroes and get them all caught up on the whole OFA situation. which, hmmmm

like on the one hand, these guys definitely aren’t going to cut it on their own, so it’s a reasonable suggestion on the face of it. but on the other hand, do we really want to entrust the OFA secret to a bunch of other people, most of whom shat the bed during the War arc to be quite frank? is it really worth the additional risk? especially given that any one of them might go spilling the beans to the public -- or worse, betray them to AFO??

also just a quick side note here, Mt. Lady’s character development never ceases to delight me. she’s become so committed to her responsibility as a hero these days, and it fucking suits her. I genuinely consider to be one of the elites now. I mean it doesn’t hurt that all the other elites are fucking dead lol but still

wait what? Death Arms retired??

Death Arms as in the guy who was too afraid of a little fire to try and save a terrified 14-year-old kid who was slowly suffocating right before his eyes?? that Death Arms???? color me surprised. shocked, I tell you

...okay but holy fuck

Death Arms. bro. my expectations for you were low but holy shit. like I’m sorry, but I don’t even have it in me to try and pretend like I feel the slightest bit of sympathy for him or Old Man Samurai or any of those other guys today. thanks for a whole lot of nothing my dude. good riddance

(ETA: so I’m rereading this the next day and realize this comes off as kind of harsh, so let me just try to clarify. it’s not the fact that he’s quitting that bothers me, to be honest. it’s the fact that he’s quitting specifically because he feels like the public is being mean to him. that’s it.

seriously. it would be one thing if he was quitting because he was scared, because now that is human. nobody wants to die, and I doubt any amount of training can ever fully prepare someone to go up against that fear. but the thing is, he never once mentions that, or talks about the danger aspect. instead, I got the distinct vibe from this speech that Death Arms is one of those people who only became a hero because of the limelight. and I just don’t have any patience for that. if all you care about are likes and subscribes then go become a fucking youtuber or some shit. nothing wrong with that! but you didn’t; you signed up to be a hero and protect these people. they gave you their respect and admiration because they trusted you to protect them. and now that they’re no longer in the mood to worship and applaud your every move on account of them being scared shitless because they’re living in the literal end times, you decide to dip. so like okay, fine then. don’t let the door hit you on the way out. anyways lol sorry for the rant.)

anyway so yeah. perfect example of why I don’t exactly have a ton of faith in most of the remaining heroes out there lol. also let me just once again give a shoutout to my best girl Mt. Lady whom I suddenly find myself appreciating all the more

“please calm down makeste. drink some water and enjoy this fresh new jeans pun” listen Horikoshi don’t tell me what to do dammit

fine. it is a nice pun, I guess

-- damn so now Endeavor’s saying that the media is already being fed info by the retired heroes. so for some of these guys it wasn’t enough for them to abandon all the people they swore to protect and to leave their fellow heroes out in the cold; they decided they might as well actively make things worse for them while they were at it, huh. like I get wanting to spill all the dirty secrets from your old job that you just quit, but this isn’t Jeff Bezos you’re screwing over, this is a sixteen-year-old kid

-- like, yes!! this, right here!!

exactly!! let’s not forget that there are already two prior instances of this happening. Endeavor arguably deserved it, but Katsuki not so much

huh. Endeavor seems to have a more optimistic outlook regarding this than I do lol

I mean, this is the same public that didn’t hesitant to blame a kidnapped child for his own kidnapping, and then later on for being the downfall of the Symbol of Peace. but okay then

anyway so blah blah blah, more talk about how they need to use Deku as bait, which basically puts them back at square one, and then they’re all just trailing off into silence and sitting around in the dark lmao this is getting very depressing

SKDJFLSDKJ:LFKJ

SHOUTO?????

NOOOOOOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME

OH HOW THE TURNTABLES OMG. THE GHOSTER HAS BECOME THE GHOSTEE. Endeavor you petty son of a bitch. and what a brutal cut to that flashback too. “let’s stop Touya together” nah Shouto I’ve got a better idea why don’t I abandon you in U.A. and sally off with Hawks and Jeanist to found the “let’s pretend like we’re doing something to help Deku” club, which basically consists of us sitting around making terrible decisions all day long

Shouto, honey. you deserve better my little Coca Cola can. .........but if you really do have something important you need to tell your dad you could just text it to him. all the love and support, hugs and kisses, you’re doing amazing sweetie. but if you need to pass on any vital information you can just write it down and hit send honey that’s all I’m saying love

now he’s getting another call?? -- or, no, Hawks is getting a call from All Might

ARE YOU FOR REAL HAWKS OMFG

so while you all were sitting around talking about how useless you are, the kid you’re supposed to be protecting was battling another hired gun. I see. please pardon me for one second, I have a phone call to make. the phone call is to RockLockRock and Manual. the reason for the call is to apologize for calling them the worst bodyguards ever back during the War arc. the reason for the apology is because it turns out I WAS SEVERELY MISTAKEN OMFG

JESUS CHRIST DEKU DID YOU JUST KILL THIS MAN LMAO

shoutout to Horikoshi for offscreening this fight. we get it, lol. Deku strong and scary, villains ineffectual and feeble, and AFO... [checks notes] yep, still a dick. the angst arc continues

-- the angst arc continues, SIR

jesus christ I may have to rethink all of my opinions about Deku being framed for murder in movie 3 lmao. never mind. he did it, your honor

holy fucking shit Deku. “he might blow up, so please be careful” fdlskjflk jlskdjflk lwkejflk anyway so I’ve decided the explosion running gag can stay, actually

DEKU WAIT YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!

lol why do I get the feeling some serious shit is about to go down. ALL MIGHT NEVER MIND BACK OFF I THINK HE NEEDS HIS SPACE

OH MY FUCK I GASPED OUT LOUD

NO NO NO. I KNEW THIS WAS COMING GODDAMMIT BUT NO. NEVER MIND, I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT IT, I’M NOT READY TO CRY TODAY

shit. shit shit shit shit and OF COURSE all I can fucking think about is that stupid fucking prophecy and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Deku please. please please please if you really are going to leave All Might here, please be so very careful in choosing your farewell words to him now because have this sudden horrible fear that this might be the last time you ever see him alive and oh god. oh god oh god

DEKU NO, YOU’RE REALLY NOT!?!?

I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LESS FINE IN MY LIFE, ACTUALLY????

holy shit. and the fucking callback to the prophecy now. just in case we forgot. WHICH FYI, WE DIDN’T. but that’s basically confirming that this is all still very much on the table and HORIKOSHI NEVER FORGETS oh my god someone please hold me

and the fact that Deku’s flashing back to it now too, though?? because he never forgot either, because of course he didn’t, and now all this stuff is happening, and AFO’s words are getting to him, and this is literally his worst fear come to life and so of course he’s distancing himself from everyone, and now it’s finally come to even this. even the person he admires most

-- OKAY NO, FUCKING COME ON ALREADY I CAN’T TAKE THIS

I GET IT OH MY GOD, I ALREADY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF THIS MOMENT WITHOUT ALL OF THE DEVASTATING FLASHBACKS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! YOU ACTUALLY DO WANT ME TO CRY, HUH, IS THAT IT. THIS MAN THAT HE THINKS OF AS A FATHER, THIS MAN WHO HAS BEEN EVERYTHING TO HIM SINCE HE WAS A VERY YOUNG CHILD. EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN THROUGH, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST EVERYTHING DEKU IS UP AGAINST, EVERYTHING THAT’S AT RISK. LET’S JUST PUT IT ALL SIDE BY SIDE. LET’S JUST PILE ON ALL OF THE FEELS

(ETA: just a quick note that even though some of the posts I’ve read have described these as All Might’s flashbacks, I’m pretty sure they are Deku’s. most of these are scenes that only he was there for, so yeah. even though All Might is the one thinking the thoughts on the next page, the flashbacks are what’s running through Deku’s mind right now, and so we’re getting that emotion from both of them, which makes it extra devastating lol.)

wait, what???

WHAT??? do you really think that’s why he’s been so determined to protect you this entire time?? simply because you’re his successor?

-- oh no wait lol I think I got that mixed up, this is All Might saying that Deku feels the need to protect him. well that makes more sense lol

oh my god I cannot

his last words. his last words to him. and we can’t even see if he is smiling, like All Might always encouraged him to do. but what are the odds he can’t actually bring himself to do it. what are the odds he’s actually crying. oh god this scene is going to rip my heart out and STOMP on it in the anime isn’t it. Deku’s VA is going to full on murder me with emotion. not that there’ll be much of me left to murder after the thorough job that Horikoshi has already done here

YOU’RE CRYING. DEKU IS LEAVING ALL MIGHT AND IGNORING HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND YOU’RE CRYING. AND BY “YOU” I MEAN “ME”, FUCK

nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope no words just feels just a big ol’ pile of feels. I do not have the strength. future me... [broadly gestures] good luck with all that

(ETA: LOL, WELL THEN.

what breaks my heart here is All Might. All Might, and everything he’s been through, and history repeating itself, and forcing him to live this moment from both sides because he wasn’t strong enough to fix things.

Toshinori had only just turned eighteen when Nana died. like, I feel like we don’t mention this enough. the All Might we know is a sixty-something-year-old man, and so everyone always talks about him like he’s basically been an adult forever. but he was a child when he met Nana. and he was still just a child when she died. barely a year older than Deku is now. younger than Mirio was when we first met him.

and we don’t talk about that. we don’t talk about how devastating that was for him. and we don’t talk about how the reason he grew up to become so reserved and withdrawn -- for all that he always tried so hard to outwardly project the image of a bold, confident, smiling hero -- was specifically because of what AFO did to him. because AFO targeted him in the exact way that he is now targeting Deku. because that’s what he does. he goes after every new user of OFA, and he finds out what’s most important to them, and then he destroys it. and for Toshinori, that was Nana. if you’ve read All Might Rising, you know that AFO basically killed her in front of him (and only killed her, while letting Toshinori and Gran get away). Toshinori (while crying) later says she was like a mother to him. and interestingly enough, during this same conversation, Gran tells Toshinori that he can see “that madness in [his] eyes” when Toshi talks about becoming strong enough to defeat AFO. madness in his eyes. sound familiar??

what’s happening to Deku now is the exact same thing that happened to Toshinori when he was a boy. AFO tried every bit as hard to break him as he’s trying with Deku now. “the path you’ve chosen is a thorny one. every battle grinds away at your soul with no end in sight.” we don’t talk about how Toshinori experienced this same thing for forty fucking years. and all the while isolating himself, exactly like Deku is doing now. pushing people away, exactly like Deku. because he never had anyone who was able to reach out and pull him back. and those words that he now finds himself frozen and unable to speak -- “don’t push yourself”; “you can rest” -- are the same words that no one ever said to him until decades later, when it was already far too late to make any difference.

everything that Deku is experiencing now is what Toshinori also went through. and it’s only now, as he watches it happen to his student, the boy he loves like a son, that he’s finally starting to realize the full extent of how wrong it was. you shouldn’t have to fight alone. you shouldn’t have to bear that kind of enormous burden alone. you shouldn’t have to push yourself, and you can rest. you can rest.

but it’s too late. just as he’s finally coming to understand it all, it’s all too fucking late. and he can’t say the words, he doesn’t know how to say the words, and then just like that, Deku is gone.

and he’s alone. again.)

I can’t. this can’t be their goodbye. I’m not ready. for this to be how they finally part, and then they never see each other again except in OFA. how is that fair. how is that fair. how is that fair

fuck me. lol. how many pages are left in this thing. let’s just wrap this up lol. so now of all the times for this fucking guy to finally show up

I can’t believe Stain has been here literally this entire time hiding behind this random wall and cutting onions. that was you who was cutting the onions, right. no need to answer that we’ll just say it was

HORIKOSHI JUST END THE CHAPTER PLEASE I’M OUT OF SPOONS. YOU HURT ME SO GOOD AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO LET ME GO NOW SO I CAN BEGIN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO PUT MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER HERE. SO WHERE ARE WE CUTTING TO NOW WHAT IS HAPPENING

Stain did you also let AFO give you a new quirk. what’s with you guys. do you like blowing up

oh nvm lol because they were talking about THIS GUY ohhhhhh my fucking god

THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S SAD, LINDA!! jesus

omfg. and so yes, good, the chapter is ending here now on page 15. for once I am FULLY on board with that lmao

anyway so tune in next week for more adventures of Werewolf Deku!! that is, assuming we don’t finally cut back to U.A. at long last, which is actually a strong possibility considering that this chapter will likely mark the end of volume 31. it sure wouldn’t kill Horikoshi to start giving us some hope after everything he’s just put us through lol. KACCHAN COME GET YA BOY