#wasn’t expecting a long answer for this but here I am lol

[smilesrobotlover]

What are the other champions up to In ages time I know mipha and age are engaged but what about the others

Rn they are all in their respective regions watching over, trying to protect their lands from lingering monsters and all that. Daruk and Revali are in charge of the militia of their races while Mipha and Urbosa are more focused on taking care of their races while others are in charge of the militia. They keep in close contact with central Hyrule in case something happens. Because Rune (AOC Zelda) is now in charge of the kingdom, Rhoam is more focused on the militia and protecting central Hyrule. Impa is close by with Rune acting as an advisor but also a bodyguard since Age is now engaged to Mipha. Age is more so all over the place and is going to wherever he is needed, but his home is now in Zora’s domain, so he’s in that area more. They’re not struggling tho. Now that the threat of malice and monsters are gone, they are focused on rebuilding and living in peace. And since the Yiga clan aren’t against them anymore, the yiga help a lot, but they’re mostly a weird group of people, or cult now, just no longer harmful. So it’s a good time for everyone!

#asks #link between links #wasn’t expecting a long answer for this but here I am lol #i did write down what each era is up to after their respective #games #but ye!

[bunny-yan]

Hello!! Thanks for sharing your writing with us! I'm a fan of your Hero/Reincarnated Reader story! :D Personally, I find it very cathartic lol

I've read the manga you based your story on a long time ago (tbh they did not give justice to the previous reincarnations AT ALL in my opinion), but do you have plans to expand on why Hero left Reader for each reincarnation in your story? Is there something deeper at play here (on Hero's side or even Reader's side because I think feelings of love or even basic affection would dissipate after the second reincarnation) or is it simply he wanted to play around with others and string along Reader each time? Do you think there will be another love interest that will show up in this current life?

If escape doesn't work, how would Hero react if Reader took their own life instead? And if Reader is successful, would they be "cursed" in the next life to be Hero's childhood friend? lolol

I know it's not possible, but I think it'd be beautiful karma for Reader to fall in love and marry someone else because I feel like that would really kill Hero lol

Sorry for the question spam, but thank you again for your stories and I hope to see more adventures of Hero/Reader! :D

(Btw, how will King fit into all this or was the King/Reader/Hero story a one-off?)

So I do plan on expanding on Tasman's reasoning for leaving Reader behind and you're pretty close to his reasoning, but I thought I'd expand on how the darling would commit suicide in this particular ask. I think it would also be pretty interesting to watch Tasman suffer and be forced to watch his darling find happiness with someone else so def saving that for a future draft!

The Sharing is Caring Series are one-off stories that include two+ yans, but if you're interested in seeing that sort of dynamic I am more than willing to write for it! Hopefully this answered your question <3

TW:Mentions Death, Depictions of Violence, Implied Violence, Suicide, Language, Infantilization, Minors DNI

—

It began slowly. 

If you moved too quickly he would notice because he caught anything and everything. Watching you was a hobby of his and when you weren’t allowed to leave his sight, it was no surprise that he got good at it. 

You didn’t come on too strong. 

It was hard to imagine he’d have anything other than suspicion if you put on a lovey dovey act, throwing yourself into his arms and professing your love when you couldn’t stand the sight of him the week before. Couldn’t stand his words whether they called you selfish or repeated his desperate love. Couldn’t stand his hands as they grabbed at you, forcing you to comply while convincing himself that this was what you also wanted, you were just too blind to see it. Too angry. 

The goddess knew what she was doing, tying your souls together and to fight a fate as destined as the two of yours? 

It was foolish. 

So you played the fool. 

You let him think that you were slowly coming around to his way of thinking. 

You couldn’t forget the look on his face when you actually apologized in the middle of a heated argument. He was yelling about the distance you were creating between the two of you, telling you that you weren’t letting your love and relationship grow if you were going to continue to treat him like a monster and you snapped an apology in his face. 

It wasn’t sweet and demure, it didn’t even hold an ounce of regret, but it was an apology nonetheless and the last words he expected to come out of your mouth. 

You crossed your arms, looking away from him and when it took him a moment to regain himself, telling you that he was grateful that you were finally seeing reason, you held back the vicious words you wanted to hurl into his face. 

Oh, you loved when his face would twist in outrage or hurt or better yet a mix of the two. 

It meant nothing good for you or for your body the next day leading to the week after but sometimes you couldn’t ignore the momentary satisfaction of letting him know just how you felt. 

But you would endure. You would wait and bide your time for the one thing you’d wanted to do since you’d memorized the number of cracks in each of the four walls, restarting your count whenever he blew his top, taking his anger out on them instead of you. 

Tasman was smart. He was suspicious when the two of you began to argue less, a questioning look piercing your body. 

You didn’t yell until you lost your voice, you didn’t give him the silent treatment, or call him an awful monster, no. 

He was right. 

Yes, you were being selfish for refusing the gift that was his presence.

You were inconsiderate for not thanking him for stealing you away from your life, ruining any chance you had at peace and true happiness. 

He was so right when he told you that he knew what was best for the two of you and that when you denied it, you didn’t really know what you were saying. You were just confused. 

Selfish, inconsiderate, confused. Keeping up the facade was harder than you thought it’d be. 

Whenever he came to you, upset about something you did or some affection you didn’t give, you just mumbled out an apology, going back to doing whatever it was you were doing. 

Tasman felt complex. He didn’t understand why one moment he couldn’t get through to you and the next you understood what he’d been trying to get across so desperately for months. When he finally asked, you told him that you were tired of arguing. You were tired of not being happy. That maybe you had overreacted when he came back. That despite him not being able to get it right for the first eight lives the two of you spent together it would only hurt the two of you further if you continued to bring up the past. You wanted to move on, to start anew. To give the two of you a chance. 

You couldn’t explain the look on his face. 

It was hopeful. It was… something you might have fallen for had you not already come so far. 

It took some time getting used to your willing affection. 

He’d stiffen when you’d lean against him when the two of you were riding a horse to your next destination, not twisting in uncomfortable ways to avoid him. You accepted the meals he brought to you, going so far to make him tea when he seemed stressed. You didn’t stray too far away from the camp and when you did you didn’t throw a tantrum, telling him that he needed to give you space or that he was suffocating you. His hands were hesitant when they touched you but his desire quickly made him comfortable. You no longer sneered or pulled away, you would rest in his arms when he held you. Something he could only dream about the last few months. But his dream were becoming a reality. 

A part of him was suspicious, afraid that this was too good to be true that your behavior was a front to attempt another plan of escape but the other part of him, the hopeful part of him wanted to believe.

You wanted to be with him. You wanted to be happy with him. 

Lost in thought, he smiled when you came over, serving him your usual herbal tea. You said it was meant to relax him, and he’d definitely felt as if he was on cloud nine. Maybe being able to pull you into his lap as he did, was apart of his feeling of floating on air but he didn’t think about it too deeply. 

“Lover?” he began, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You hummed, your usual response whenever he required your attention. 

What was he going to say? 

He felt like this was good to be true. He felt as if this was all a ruse and that you were hiding something deeper, something more sinister. 

Sure he felt off, but maybe he was just second guessing himself. Maybe everything was fine and he just couldn’t imagine happiness for himself. Maybe it had been so long that it seemed impossible but the two of you had nothing if not hope. Hope that you could finally get it right this time. Hope that you could understand a fraction of the feelings he has for you, even if you couldn’t return them… right now. 

“It’s nothing.” he said after a long pause, heaving out a sigh. “Just promise me something?”

Humming again, he gripped you tighter before saying, “Promise me that we’ll always be together like this.”

There was a short pause, he felt a small inkling of fear that grew insurmountably in the time it took for you to respond, but he let out a breath of relief that didn’t quite ease his worries when you finally said, 

“I promise.”

~*~

Tasman woke up and immediately knew that something was wrong. 

He’d been tired but he’d never felt anything like this. His body was heavy like lead, each muscle refusing to move and his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. It took all the strength in his body to blink and when his vision finally cleared he saw shadows dancing across the ceiling. 

His hearing might have been the one sense that hadn’t been impeded because he could hear the familiar song you used to sing when the two of you were younger. It’d been so long since the last time he’d heard it. 

It took a considerable amount of strength to turn his head and when he saw you, sitting in your familiar corner on the windowsill he felt his heart ache to call out to you, but it was difficult to swallow, to speak. 

You stopped humming when you heard his breathing turn ragged. 

Turning around, he didn’t like the unconcerned look in your eyes as you watched him. 

“You’re awake?”

“What… what did you do to me?”

Your expression didn’t change, glancing back towards the window as you pulled your legs closer. 

“I was worried that I’d get caught. I knew you were suspicious, but there wasn’t much I could do about that.”

“What did you do?” he asked, voice lacking his usual seething tone due to whatever you had done. He’d been too close to you for you to make deals with any dark mages. The time and effort it took would be too long, too strenuous and too obvious. 

This couldn’t be magic.

“Did you know the goddess created an entirely new system for your body?” you asked, voice curious as you rested your head on your knees. “It should’ve been obvious. Your body is impervious to the heat, cold, wind, sand, or snow, and most physical and magical attacks do nothing to hurt you.”

You frowned, “It’s unfair. It’s no wonder the demon king never defeated you in any of our past lives.”

Tasman’s breath was ragged. He didn’t want to know. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Answer me.”

Looking at him, he was unnerved with how unbothered you were. “I tested it out. How much poison I could feed you without you noticing before it started having an effect but it never worked. But of course I should’ve figured that lethal doses in regular people would do nothing to you.”

You laughed, humorless and dry as you shook your head. “Do you know the trouble I went to to make sure you wouldn’t pick up on it? And you were too eager at the opportunity of a relationship that you let me do it.” 

“You-You can’t hurt me. Whatever you did I’ll-”

You shook your head, almost disgusted. 

“Tasman, this was never about hurting you.” 

He watched as your feet slid down the windowsill, light illuminating the edges of your body. You took slow, measured steps as you spoke, a whisper of a smile on your face. 

“I prayed to the goddess that you wouldn’t feel it. That there was a chance, that for once in one of my lives I’d get what I wanted.” You felt yourself get emotional as you recalled everything you’d been through. “I waited for you. I wanted you to love me and I couldn’t have it. I wanted a new life and I couldn’t have it. I’ve tried everything, Tasman and you know what I've noticed. You were the reason for every misstep.” 

He tried shaking his head, tried telling you what he really meant what you meant to him. 

“I’m trying, I’ll try just please-”

You shook your head, the humorless laugh almost floating from your body. 

“It doesn’t matter. Do you really think that if you were willing to make things work it wouldn’t have happened by now? In any of our lives? It’s the goddess’s desire that we remain together and yet we can never make it work. You wouldn’t listen to me no matter how much I cried, screamed, protested that this wasn’t right. That you were hurting me.”

His throat was tight with emotion, pleading almost begging in the raspy tone of his. 

“Please, I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what was triggering his senses that something was wrong. It could’ve been whatever you had drugged him with but he had an ominous premonition. 

“You aren’t. If you were, we wouldn't be here right now and I wouldn’t have had to repeat myself so many times.” 

Shaking your head, he finally noticed the glint against the silver metal, watching as it raced before you put the hilt of the blade against your head. 

“You don’t listen. You don’t care what I have to say. I throw tantrums as far as you’re concerned. And the minute I leave you drag me back and treat me like a petulant child, scolding me for leaving your side.” 

You didn’t know if you were talking to yourself or if this was for him but you couldn’t stop. 

“When I want you, you want nothing to do with me and when I want nothing to do with you, I can’t get two seconds without you breathing down my neck.”

“What-”

“I want nothing to do with you and yet I have to force myself to tolerate your existence, tolerate you touching me, choke on the words you force down my throat just for the chance that you’d leave me alone long enough to find the right herb. Just long enough to not notice what I mixed in your drinks.”

His froze in realization. How long had you planned this?

“And it finally worked.” You smiled, coming near the bedside and crouching in front of him. You could see the anger in his eyes up close without fear that he’d lash out at you. 

“How could you do this to me?” 

You gave him a mock pout, cocking your head to the side. “Poor Tasman. It must’ve been so rough getting everything you ever wanted. Everyone’s love and affection, the power of the world at your fingertips, even my love!” For the first time you got angry. “You had my fucking love in your hands and you crushed it. You treated me as if I didn’t matter to you. And I guess at the end of the day, I don’t.” A harsh laugh escaped from your lips as you narrowed your eyes on him. “I’m no hero. There aren’t millions of people who are relying on me to defeat the big bad demon king. There wouldn't be riots in the street if I up and disappeared and there won’t be, because it isn’t the case for you. You won’t disappear. You’ll just keep coming up with new ways to make sure I’ll never be able to escape from you and they won’t bat an eye. Because you matter to people. You matter. Even if you’d abandon them the next day for your own selfish greed.”

“What are you going to do with that?” he asked, understanding his meaning when his eyes looked at the blade in your hand. 

You sneered, narrowing your eyes as you said, “Don’t worry. This isn’t for you.” 

It didn’t take him long to figure out what you meant. 

“Don’t. This is stupid. We’ll just start over and I’ll know. Let’s just work this out and we can-”

Standing, you brushed off your clothes, the gesture nervous as you looked down at the sharp blade. 

“It was never about you.” you said quietly. You gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 

He was getting desperate. He couldn’t threaten you, he couldn’t beg or plead or say anything to convince you against this. 

“You promised.”

There was a pause and for a moment he felt that maybe you’d reconsider. That you’d realize that your behavior was hysterical and that you take a moment to calm down. 

“I did and I’ll keep my promise.”

Looking at him, you shook your head. 

“You said it yourself. We’ll just start over.”

The slow realization in his eyes was enough. 

“I want you to live with what you did to me. I want you to know that I'll never let you hurt me again.”

It happened before he could say anything. 

Your movements were sharp and jerky, stumbling after plunging the blade into your throat. 

He felt his soul cry out, begging his body to move, pleading to the goddess that he’d give anything, sacrifice anything if he could just get to you in this moment. He could heal you if you would just come a little closer, but you staggered against the windowsill, moving farther away, staring at him as you began to choke on your blood. 

He watched you suffer, watched your body twitch and fight against the pain, and watched as you finally went still. Leaning against the side of the windowsill, still staring at him. 

Tasman couldn’t move. 

His body wouldn’t listen to him. He felt tears slide down the side of his face as he choked on a strangled cry. 

He couldn’t move. 

He felt the overwhelming, aching desire to cradle you in his arms. To hold you close. To wipe the blood away from your face. To shut your accusing eyes but he couldn’t move. 

Whatever you had given him kept him in a docile state. Kept him still and feeling too guilty to look away from your eyes. Your soulless eyes. He could tell. He felt as if something was missing from his own as he continued to stare into the eyes missing life, the eyes he’d watch fade quickly. 

Too quickly. 

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yan!tasman #yandere hero #hero yandere

[peachhcs]

The 5 times Neteyam loved you and the 1 time he said it.

Neteyam x fem!reader

Word count: 15.6k 😳

Summary: pretty self explanatory I think, but the 5 times Neteyam loved you and the 1 time he finally said it 😌

Warnings: near character death, talk of absent parents, gun & knife violence, blood

ITS FINALLY HERE!! THE LONG AWAITED 15k+ fic I took like a week to write 😭 This is cliche but I haven’t seen anyone else do this prompt before. I listened to the people and put this into one large fic, so I hope y’all like it!! The ending is..a little rocky, but it’s what you get after forcing myself to finish this. There is a prologue in this & I wasn’t originally going to include it, but I liked it too much to delete it from the story LOL

If you guys want a Lo’ak version, I have one in the drafts, but idk if that is something y’all want. My requests for fic ideas are open, so send some in if y’all want! Thanks for all the love!! (ps, not quite proof read so if there’s some spelling or grammatical errors my apologies)

MASTERLIST

PROLOGUE.

It was no doubt that you were an extreme pleaser. Growing up as the eldest sibling to your parent’s five, it was your job to stay in line. Set the example. Follow the rules. Be the golden child. It was the whole reason why you and Neteyam bonded so quickly when you met.

He knew how it felt to be the perfect one. You both carried the same burden, the same pressure, the same expectations set by your parents. All you wanted was to please them and get the praise you desperately craved.

You saw Neteyam for a few weeks now. It started one day in the woods when you were out exploring. Foana and Ni`awtu insisted going out into the forest. You knew being the eldest that you couldn’t possibly leave them to their own devices, so you reluctantly followed after them.

That same afternoon, the Sully kids decided embarking on their own expedition. The clan was so large and spread out in nearly every part of the forest that you hardly knew every single person. You knew of the Sully children and their great father Jake, the Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, however you did not know them.

Everything changed for you and your siblings that afternoon when Foana wandered off. You had no idea that a certain Sully boy would change the entire trajectory of your life that day.

You were distracted with admiring the beautiful flora that you didn’t even realize your younger sister disappeared. A tiny tug on your tail made you spin around, hissing at Ni`awtu standing shyly behind you.

“Ni, what do you want?” You answered annoyed that she interrupted your gazing. Seeing her little worried features made you scrap any annoyance you ever possessed in the first place.

“It is Foana. I do not know where she went.” The fear laced through the young girl’s voice. Your eyes shot up, now realizing that the youngest sibling was no longer around the two of you.

To make matters even worse, you only brought your knife with you expecting a quick and short trip.

“Ni`awtu, you were supposed to be watching her at all times. Argh.” You pushed past her, beginning to sniff out any possible trails Foana may wandered off on.

“I am sorry, sister. I swear, I thought she was right behind me.” The familiar wobble of Ni’s voice and her trembling hands told you she was close to tears. Sighing, you collected her into your arms.

“Do not worry, it is not your fault. We will find her.” Being the eldest meant you could not be mad at your little siblings for long. You also could not let them take the blame for things—even if it was their fault at times. That was just what came with growing up as the eldest. You took nearly all the blame.

The two of you walked the tree lines, scanning every possible inch for that little rascal. She hardly knew the forest like you, so she couldn’t have been too far. If anything, she was probably cowering underneath a leaf or behind a tree because she did not know where she was anymore.

Your ears perked up when you heard voices ahead. In a quick maneuver, you shoved your sister behind you incase it was a threat. Not many from your clan ventured this far out into the forest by the old shack. It was forbidden by the Olo’eyktan—so whoever was ahead couldn’t possibly be Na’vi.

There was a tiny laugh, though. It caught you off guard and your defenses fell for just a moment. There came another laugh, louder and one you recognized this time.

“Foana.” You muttered and ran ahead through the brush.

When you came through clearing, you grew surprised seeing your little sister playing around with another younger Na’vi girl.

“Y/N, look! I made a friend!” Little Foana sensed your presence and motioned towards the other little girl. She smiled up at you with a toothy grin.

“Foana, what in Eywa are you doing all the way out here? You do not wander away from me or your sister.” Your mom voice came out, loud and booming. The little one looked down in shame realizing she was in trouble.

“I am sorry, sister. I did not mean to. I just..I saw a flying lizard and had to follow it. I found her on the way.” She stuck out a thumb at other girl. Another sigh escaped your lips knowing she must’ve also strayed off her path and probably had people looking for her as well.

“Tuk! There you are! Why did you wander off?” A new voice entered the scene. She raced past you, scooping up the girl in her arms.

“Sorry, Kiri. I found a friend, though.” Tuk pointed at your sister who gave a similar toothy grin and a wave.

“It is okay, sister. Just make sure you tell someone next time, okay? Neteyam, I found her, it is okay.” You didn’t realized there was entire group behind you now. Two boys, no three boys, stood behind you. Two Na’vi and the singular human boy you knew lived around here.

“Tuk, I told you to keep up with us.” The shorter Na’vi boy went past you to ruffle up her little braids.

You hadn’t moved a single muscle since their sudden arrival. You were too awestruck in the way they comforted the girl. Neither of them showed any signs of anger or annoyance that she wandered off. It was so unfamiliar to you—all of that sincerity and comfort to one another.

“Oh, please excuse us. I am so sorry. I am Kiri. This is Tuk, Lo’ak, Neteyam, and Spider behind you.” The girl that came in first finally acknowledged your presence with a warm smile as she introduced what must’ve been her siblings.

“Oh, no need for apologies. I am Y/N. This is Ni`awtu and Foana.” You did a bow of greeting which your sisters quickly followed after.

“It seems as though our sisters have befriended one another. We were so worried when we realized she had wandered off.” Kiri laughed and pinched Tuk’s little nose. You smiled at the affection.

“Yes, us too. I was glad I found them both unharmed.” You pulled your sisters closer, trying to show a tiny bit of affection like the other siblings displayed.

“Let’s just be glad we didn’t need to call dad in. He would have beaten our asses if we told him we lost Tuk.” Lo’ak laughed and then his older brother smacked him on the head. The unfamiliar terms and use of some English words intrigued you. Not many Na’vi knew English besides the Olo’eyktan—obviously being from the sky.

You began putting two and two together. The five fingers of Lo’ak and Kiri. Lo’ak’s use of English phrases you didn’t quite understand. These were the Sully children. The Olo’eyktan’s kids.

“Oh my Eywa, I am sorry. You are children of the Olo’eyktan. It is a pleasure to meet you.” You rushed out, flushed you had not picked up on it beforehand. You bowed again, urging your sisters to do the same.

“Woah, we’ve never been greeted like that before.” Lo’ak snickered and the older boy hit his head again.

“Lo’ak, stop it. Do not apologize. We are Omatikaya as much as you are. It is really our father who gets bowed to.” The older one spoke to you in a kind tone that had your face heating up in a way it had never done before.

“Well, it is still a great pleasure to meet all of you.” He grinned at you. There was something igniting inside of you just looking at his smile. Something you had never felt before.

“Can Foana and I have a playdate sometime?” Tuk spoke to you, her little voice adorable as ever. However, you were unfamiliar with the term she used.

“Playdate means like a hang out.” Kiri must’ve seen your confusion. You quickly nodded.

“Of course, anytime as long as neither of you wander off again.” You joked some, smiling down at your little sister. She grinned excitedly.

“Perfect, you may bring her over anytime or we can bring Tuk over. She has been so excited to start making new friends ever since our parents allowed her to go out more.” Kiri was so soft spoken and so gentle. Her presence alone just made you feel so warm and welcomed.

“You could bring your other siblings, too. You have two others, right?” Lo’ak spoke up more. You quickly nodded, a bit surprised he even knew that. It wasn’t like your family was well known like they were.

“Tsanten and Naria.” You did not miss the way Lo’ak’s face blushed at the mention of Naria.

“Well, bring them all and even yourself, we love the company.” Kiri beamed and you couldn’t help but smile yourself.

You hardly received invitations out often. You were always busy taking care of your siblings, cleaning up, staying in, following your parents’ orders. It didn’t leave much room for fun and going out.

Neteyam was still glancing in your direction. He just couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from your pretty hair flowing loosely down your back, or the way your eyes lit up when Kiri extended the invitation to you and the rest of your siblings.

He knew of your family through passing here and there. You were the eldest, just like him, yet he never saw you out much. Either you were hidden away in your tent, or out hunting. He knew you were a hunter because Beyral spoke of your name often.

You intrigued him. He liked the way the confusion floated over your face when Lo’ak or Tuk used phrases you didn’t understand. He liked the protective nature you held over every single one of your siblings—similar to him. How you held them close to you. He wanted to know more about you. He wanted to make you smile again because it sent an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies in his stomach that he enjoyed.

He wanted more of you. If only the two of you knew what your future held.

ONE.

Neteyam was protective over everything in his life—his parents, his siblings, and now you. Being the eldest, especially to the Olo’eyktan, it was his job becoming the protector when his father wasn’t there.

He fought off anyone who poked fun at Lo’ak or Kiri for having five fingers. He made sure someone was with Tuk at all times when she went out to the forest. He helped his mother anytime she asked whether it was with food or his siblings.

There was no denying how similar the two of you were. It was what drew him to you. You held the same protective nature as him. You took care of your siblings the same way he did. You understood the burdens he carried because you held them high on your shoulders as well.

It was when the two of you were together that he could let go of everything, even if it was just for a little bit. When the day was done and everyone was sound asleep for the night, tucked safely into their tents was when the two of you snuck out to spend time together.

It was more of a private relationship for the time being. Being the next Olo’eyktan in line, Neteyam knew that if he told people he was seeing someone it would spread like wildfire across the village. People would start talking and they probably wouldn’t ever leave you alone once the word was out. He wasn’t sure if you wanted that on top of everything else and if he was being honest, he wanted you to himself just a little while longer.

His feet worked quickly jumping from tree branch to tree branch. The luminescent forest was his guiding light through the night and he took one final swing to his destination. When he got his footing, there you were right where you met almost every night.

Your back was slumped against the tree and you hadn’t noticed him yet, instead, your gaze was focused on the glimmering stars above. Every time, Neteyam was so in awe of you. He knew how stressed you were throughout the day having to do this and that, so seeing you here waiting for him in the most relaxed state gave him a sense of pride.

“Oh, hi.” You finally noticed his looming presence. The boy grinned, walking towards you.

“Hi, sorry I am late. I had to make sure Tuk was truly asleep for the night.” The sound of your laugh made his heart swell in his chest. He snuggled himself in beside you with his head resting on your stomach.

When you put your hands across his back, all of his muscles finally relaxed. The stress slowly dissipated and everything felt right being in your arms. During the day, he was a leader who held no fear. At night when he was with you like this, none of that mattered. He didn’t have to put on the facade for you.

“She never falls asleep on time. I think she is afraid she will miss out on something. Foana is the same way.” He hummed when he felt your other hand begin brushing through his braids.

“That explains why she is always following Lo’ak and Kiri around.” Your stomach rumbled with laughter again and the vibrations were so calming to Neteyam. If he could, he would have your laugh on repeat.

“Your training, how did that go today?” Another thing Neteyam adored about you was how you never failed to ask him about his day. Any detail he told you, you remembered and talked about it the next night. He had never been listened to like that before. It made everything inside of him feel warm and appreciated like he had a purpose.

“It was okay. I think dad is getting mad at me because I can not seem to understand things as fast as he wants me to.” Neteyam sat himself up so he could look at you properly. His back fell against the tree in the same way yours did, still keeping your bodies close.

“You will get it, do not worry. It takes time learning all the ways of the Olo’eyktan. Your father probably struggled as much as you did once.” You clutched his bicep to give it a comforting squeeze. Neteyam’s gaze fell away to the sky, though. His mind beginning to turn elsewhere.

“Yes, but he was already strong when he fell into the position. He was an adult already. I am merely a teenager still.” He heard you scoff beside him.

“You are just as strong, Neteyam. Do not tell yourself you are not. You are learning and your father just wants what is best for you.” You always knew what to say to him to make him feel better. His gaze finally fell back to you, your gentle gaze making his face blush.

“I think my parents are catching up to the fact that I may be seeing someone.” You giggled, looking away as you changed subjects. Neteyam, however, stiffened up at your words.

“What do you say?”

“Well, I just laugh it off and say I am not. They do not ask much more after that.” He could not read your expression because you weren’t looking at him. He didn’t know if you were upset you had to deny it or something entirely different.

He certainly wished he didn’t have to be so private about his personal life, but he was afraid his mother wound disapprove—not that there was anything to disapprove of you. It was mostly the others in the clan. People would start talking. They would start seeking you out. You would have to start learning the ways of Tsahik, maybe (Hopefully in his mind). He wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable to be put into such a spotlight like he was before anything was really said about the two of you.

“Neteyam? Are you alright?” Your voice snapped him from his thoughts. You were already looking at him when he met your pretty golden eyes.

“Yes, sorry. I was lost in thought.” He gave you a gentle smile to reassure you.

“About what?” You loved to pick his brain though. His expression twisted and he found the need to place his arm around you and pull you closer towards him. Your head fell absently against his chest.

“It is not important.” He had this thing where he would sometimes hide his emotions from you. He did not want to burden you with this one right now.

“I feel like it is, though. I will not make you tell me, but you can if you want to.” Another feature he absolutely adored about you. You never pried, but made it known that he could tell you anything. He squeezed you a tiny bit closer as if there was anymore space left between you two.

“Are-are you..upset that our relationship is not..for the entire clan to know?” He blurted and then avoided your gaze so he wouldn’t see your expression.

“No, not necessarily. I like the privacy.” You answered honestly, but Neteyam wasn’t sure if he believed it yet or not.

“Are you lying?” You sat up more to look at him. He was gnawing at his lip, worried that you were lying.

If he could give you the world, he would. He wanted to give you everything. He wanted to show you off and take you on dates that weren’t in the dark. He wanted to hold your hand and kiss you in front of people so they knew you were his. However, he could not do any of that in fear that someone would be mean to you or say rude things. The entire clan was kind, but there were few who said things when they did not approve. Neteyam only knew because he heard the things people said about his father when he became Olo’eyktan.

He is demon blood. How would he know how to lead a clan?

Can we really trust him with our people?

What does she see in him?

Those children, they are demon blood. Five fingers.

They are not true Na’vi.

He could only imagine the things they could say when he announced his possible chosen woman. He wanted to keep you out of that. He wanted to protect you from it as much as he could.

“No, I am not lying. Why would I lie?” You gave a small chuckle; however, Neteyam was still not eased.

“Right, sorry. You would not lie about that.” He looked down, embarrassed he even thought you would lie to him. A gentle hand cupped his face and directed his attention back to you.

“What is going on in that head of yours? Tell me, it seems to be bothering you.” You observed his entire face and Neteyam was flushing under your intense stare.

He took your hands in his, squeezing gently and blowing out a long breath.

“I want to give you the world, but I can not. I only do not tell people about our relationship because I am afraid they will say things we do not like. I do not want them to hurt you and say things like they do about my father and mother. That is the only reason I have kept us from them. Not because I am embarrassed or anything of you.” Neteyam spilled his entire heart to you right then and there. He watched your face for a reaction and subconsciously prepared for a negative one.

Instead, you just grinned and stroked his hand with your thumb.

“I did not think you were embarrassed of me. I know you have a lot on your mind all the time. You do not need to explain yourself to me. I do not mind keeping our relationship private.” Your head tilted to the side, still grinning.

“I just want to make sure you are completely ready to have every eye on our relationship when and if we tell people. It is a lot of pressure and people will be talking. I do not want to just push you into that if you are not ready.” Neteyam continued.

“I am ready whenever you are ready. You worry too much about me.” You laughed and Neteyam’s head fell against your chest. You cradled the back of his head with a smile.

“So you are sure you are ready to handle it? You can tell me no.” He looked back up at you, scanning your face for any possible secret resentment you weren’t telling him.

“You forget I have thick skin. I grew up with parents who were perfecting my every move. If I can take them, I think I can handle being your girlfriend in public.”

It was then that Neteyam knew you were it for him. You held no fear in your eyes that he seemed to be harboring deep down in his depths. You were ready to be by his side under any circumstance.

He brought your face into his hands so he could pull you forward for a kiss. It was everything he could not say and everything he wanted you to know. The night was young and so were you two in that moment.

TWO.

Tonight was a big night as Neteyam ran around the hut like some mad person. He was shoving Tuk’s toys away, cleaning every single space, forcing his family to be on their best behavior—especially Lo’ak.

You were joining his family for dinner so they could properly meet you. Despite all of his siblings already knowing you, it was his parents who did not have much knowledge about you. It was mostly just name in passing, but one they never asked much about.

When Neteyam told his parents he was even seeing someone in the first place, their reactions were pretty priceless.

“Hey, mom, dad?” The eldest Sully walked into their hut while his parents worked away at their own separate projects. They turned his way at the sound of his voice.

“Yes, what it is ma son?” Neytiri questioned. The boy was flushed and picking at his fingers, unsure of how to even approach the subject.

It wasn’t that his parents were against him dating around, but he had never shown much interest beforehand, so he wasn’t sure how they were going to react now.

“I..I um-well, you see, I met this girl a few weeks ago. She is very kind, strong, intelligent, a hunter. I-I would like you to meet her one night over a dinner, maybe?” He carefully watched for their reactions.

His mother, wide-eyed, looked over at her husband. They exchanged a few glances, probably speaking with their eyes, but Neteyam had no idea what they were silently saying. He worried it was bad things.

“Oh! Yes, yes, of course. We would love to meet this girl. Who is she? Is she Omatikaya? Does she live around here?” His mother stood, embracing him while asking the hundred questions she had. His father sat back with a tiny, proud smile on his lips.

“Her name is Y/n. She is just a few huts down. She is a great hunter and warrior. Beyral speaks of her sometimes.” Neteyam explained your background as best as he could. Both of his parents were beaming widely.

“Yes, I have heard that name a few times before. She sounds wonderful, I am so excited to meet her. I had no idea you were seeing someone.” Neytiri was the most enthusiastic for her eldest. He had nearly reached all of his requirements that would make him one of the People and it was only a matter of time before he would begin looking for a future mate.

Tuk went on all day about her excitement that you would be joining them tonight. Neytiri worked all day preparing a great meal with the help of Kiri.

“Bro, I can’t believe you never told us about dating around with Y/n.” Lo’ak snickered as he helped with some of the cleaning. He earned a slap on his head for that comment.

“Well, it was not much of your business, was it?” Neteyam retorted and the younger brother only shrugged.

“I knew you were sneaking out late at night. I could just never have proof.” Another snicker and another slap. Lo’ak finally let up on his annoying teasing.

“Tuk!!” A little scream broke the boys from their conversation. Nearly everyone in the hut looked over to see a little Na’vi girl run in. Tuk was smiling widely, bringing her friend in for a hug.

“Foana! What did I say?—“ Suddenly, you appeared, grabbing at your youngest sister. Neteyam noticed your other three siblings just behind you. You met his eyes before darting them over to his parents who were glancing your way. Your entire face flushed.

“I am so sorry. Foana begged me to bring her to say hello to Tuk and then..well, I could not leave everyone else out.” You quickly explained yourself in small embarrassment. Neteyam rushed to greet you.

“Tsanten, Naria, what’s up?” Lo’ak happily got up to greet your other siblings. Ni`awtu stood shyly behind your back.

“I am so sorry for them.” You whispered to Neteyam when he was close enough. He only grinned.

“Do not apologize.” He kissed your cheek and then stepped aside for his mother who approached.

“It is nice to finally meet you, Y/n. I have heard many things.” Neteyam watched the exchange, still a tiny bit nervous for his parents approval of you. You smiled, nerves also evident behind your eyes.

“It is so nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Sully. I have heard so many things about you.” You bowed your head using the I see you gesture.

“Please, call me Neytiri. It is so nice to meet all of your siblings, as well.” She grinned again at the other little kids talking with her own children.

“Oh, thank you. They will not be staying, they just begged me to bring them to say hello.” You rushed out, eyeing each one of them to make sure they were being well-behaved in the home of the Olo’eyktan.

“Oh please, we have so much food. They can stay.” Your eyes shot to Neteyam. He only gave you a small shrug, ultimately it being your decision. He figured it would be easier to get your siblings’ introductions out of the way now too.

“Oh, no, you do not have to do that.” You shook your head, but Neytiri was persistent.

“It is no trouble. I insist.” She gently touched your arm. Neteyam could tell you were not used to such hospitality. He also touched your arm and you glanced his way. He nodded, saying if his mother thought it was okay, then it was okay for them to stay.

If anything, it would hopefully keep Lo’ak out of trouble or saying things he shouldn’t if he had other people to talk to that he liked. That was Neteyam’s biggest concern of the night, really.

“Okay, thank you, really.” You thanked Neytiri by bowing your head once more. She grinned and then walked away.

Jake came next to greet you. Neteyam knew you were worrying about him more than anything. He was Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto after all and it was the most important to get his approval.

“Hello, Y/n. I am glad to finally meet you.” You bowed to him which he did the same back.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Neteyam watched as you urged your siblings to bow before his father as well. They listened to you, doing as told.

You held such power over the little ones, but not in a bad way. Neteyam wondered if they listened to you more than your own parents. You had told him many stories of you becoming the main parent for your siblings growing up. Your parents were very absent. They were always on hunting trips, so it often left you caring for them. The eldest Sully could tell it wore you down—slumped shoulders, tired eyes, callouses on each of your hands, cuts, and bruises.

“Please, please, come in. Make yourselves at home. Our hut is your hut.” Jake ushered all of you in further. You smiled at him, not quite understanding the phrase, but you knew it was a kind one by his tone and expression.

“Y/n! Y/n! Guess what I did this week?” Tuk grabbed at your arm. You smiled down at her and crouched to her eye level.

“What did the mighty Tuk do this week?” Neteyam smiled at the way you ruffled up her hair.

“I caught my very first fish!” The little girl jumped up and down in excitement.

“That is amazing, Tuk! I am so proud of you!” You squeezed her tightly.

“Tell her how big it was.” Neteyam encouraged. His little sister held out her arms wider than herself. Your eyes widened.

“No way. That is bigger than you!” She giggled in excitement.

“I know! Everyone was so excited for me.”

“I certainly hope they were. That is a great accomplishment little Tuk.” You stood and Neteyam beamed at you. He saw your face flush a bit.

“You know she adores you, right?” He reached up to push some of your hair away from your eyes. You were wearing it loose like usual and some of it was pinned back with little petals hooked into it.

You blushed again. Neteyam loved how he could always make you blush like that.

The night went on just the way Neteyam planned. His parents asked you and your siblings many questions which you all happily answered. Just by the smiles and exchanges, Neteyam knew his parents loved you already which relieved him. He was worried something would go wrong. Lo’ak even managed to keep his comments to a minimal and mostly because he didn’t want to look like some fool in front of Naria.

Later, after helping his mom clean up, Neteyam went looking for you. He stopped short when he saw you sitting with Tuk, Foana, and Ni`awtu. You were playing some game with some sticks with them. There was a large smile on your face as you laughed at what Tuk would say. Even your sister, Ni`awtu, was smiling despite how shy she came off as.

Neteyam felt a hand come around his back. His mother appeared next to him, also watching the scene unfold. The sun began to set and eclipse was near. The forest was illuminating around you four. It was the prettiest sight Neteyam had ever seen—you with his little sister playing her games she always made up.

“She is a wonderful woman, Neteyam.” He smiled, glancing his mother’s way for a moment.

“So you like her?”

“We love her. If you do decide one day, she will make a great mate.” A small wave of relief washed through the older boy. He was so glad his parents approved of you.

Now it was just a matter of telling the rest of the clan. He knew most of them would be as supportive as his parents, but there was always the handful that had something to say. Neteyam would do his best to protect you from those who would say things.

Although, for now he would just enjoy the scene in front of him. He wanted to keep the warm feeling bubbling up in his chest for as long as possible. You were utterly perfect in his eyes.

“Neteyam! Come join us!” Tuk had noticed his presence. His mother squeezed his arm before letting him go. You made room for him to join the circle. The two of you exchanged a glance, knowing exactly what the other was saying.

You were definitely a keeper.

THREE.

Neteyam knew you were an excellent fighter. You were the best in the age group every time you went for trainings. He was always so in awe anytime he watched you skillfully use your bow and arrow to hit the targets on the ground from above. Or, your stealth as you dodged in and out of the trees. He knew he could never be as great of a fighter as you were.

However, with that also came the fear he held every time you left to go on missions. This one in particular was an especially dangerous one. His father appointed you to the head and it even shocked Neteyam a bit when he was told to hang back on this one but you were going.

You sat on the ground between his legs as he worked separate little braids into your hair for you. The only time you ever wore braids was for these missions or when you went hunting.

Neteyam did not want you to know he was worrying and playing every single worse case scenario in his head, so he kept quiet as his fingers worked quickly through your hair. However, his leg was bouncing right beside your head and that was hard for you to keep ignoring.

“Neteyam, are you alright?” You placed your hand over his knee. He realized it was bouncing and quickly stopped.

“Yes, I am fine.” You twisted your head around, pausing his braiding for a moment. The look on your face told him you didn’t believe him.

“Liar. What is wrong? Tell me.” You urged and Neteyam knew he couldn’t keep being quiet anymore.

“I am just worried is all. It always happens when you leave for missions like these.” He admitted, forcing a smile so you didn’t see all of his worry. You frowned a bit.

“You know you have nothing to worry about. I am a warrior. I always have been. When have I not come back from one of these?” Your tone was more of a “duh” tone. It didn’t ease Neteyam’s fear though.

“You never know what can happen, though.” He quickly make his defense. Instead of meeting your eyes, he just continued to work away at your hair.

“I suppose I do not, but you trust me, right? You trust your father. He would not send me into something dangerous.” Of course, Neteyam trusted both of you. It was the Sky People he had no trust in. He had seen them fight and the way they always had the upper hand with their crazy machine guns.

“Of course, but I am even not going. Is that not saying something?” He made a face and you were unsure what to say.

Neteyam finished off the last of your braids. The ends jingled together with the beads he added in. They were some of his own and he smiled at the fact that you two were going to match.

He turned you around and dipped his fingers into the bowl of paint beside his leg. You stayed still as he traced it around your face. He thought how jealous Lo’ak would be that you got to wear the war paint he didn’t on missions.

The two of you were silent. The feeling in the air changed ever since you didn’t know how to respond to Neteyam’s last statement.

You stood to look at yourself in the mirror when your face was done. The blue and yellow streaks went down your cheeks and around your eyes.

“Here, do not forget these.” Neteyam stood with your riding visor. He gently reached up to hook it around your ears.

You never flew with a riding visor, but then Neteyam made you one because he was worried about the wind drying out your eyes. You had happily accepted his very thoughtful gift and ever since then, you never rode without it.

“I am a warrior. I will make it back.” He felt comfort in the way you squeezed his arm. Your gaze was on him with a reassuring expression.

“I know you will. I just worry about you.” He cupped your face into his hands, bringing you towards him more.

“I have been doing this my whole life. I have my transmitter, too, so you will be able to listen in.” You placed the collar just above your necklaces and then hooked the earpiece into your ear. Neteyam remembered how thrilled you were when Jake gifted it you.

“We’re off in five minutes, everyone. Be ready!” Jake spoke through your ear. You glanced towards the opening where others headed out to their ikrans.

Neteyam brought your forehead against his. He closed his eyes, breathing you in and savoring every single detail about you just in case.

“Good luck. Be safe.” You smiled at his Earth phrases and brushed your hand along his cheek.

“I will see you soon.” He brought you in for one more kiss. His lips worked a bit rough like it was the last kiss he would give you. He was worrying that much.

You were the one to pull away, knowing you had to be out there very soon. He leaned into your touch when you kissed his cheek and then hurried out of his grasp. Neteyam hurried outside of your hut to watch you take off.

His dad took the lead as he dove off the cliff first. You were quick to follow, disappearing from his view almost immediately. Others in the clan who stayed behind clapped for the war party. Neteyam’s worry was only piling higher in his stomach, already anxiously awaiting your return.

—

Hours felt like days in his mind as he paced around his own hut. Tuk was in the corner playing with her toys and Kiri eyed on her older brother as he paced.

“Brother, you need to stop worrying so much. You know she will make it back. Y/n is very strong.” Kiri tried reassuring the anxious boy in front of her.

“I know, I know. This mission was a dangerous one, though. Dad did not even let Lo’ak and I go, yet he had Y/n go?” The logic still didn’t make much sense in Neteyam’s head. He wasn’t trying to discredit your abilities, but if you were going, he should’ve at least came along too.

“You have to remember that Y/n has been a warrior her whole life. Even when she was a kid. She was out hunting when she could walk. This is in her nature. Your father knows that and he knows she is a very useful asset to this mission.” His mother piped in from the other side of the hut. He didn’t even known she was listening to the conversation.

“Yeah, what mom said. She’s been fighting like this her whole life. She knows how to handle herself.” Kiri added on.

“Yeah, plus, she doesn’t always need you at her side and call.” Lo’ak had piped in now and Neteyam glared at him. Since when did his whole family become involved in this conversation.

“I am just trying to protect her.” He said in defense to what his younger brother said. Lo’ak just shrugged.

“Ma son, I know it is scary to not know what is happening, but we need to trust the Great Mother and everyone on that mission. They know what they are doing.” Neytiri squeezed Neteyam’s arm for comfort. The boy sighed, but nodded.

As if on cue, people started shouting outside of their hut. In the distance, ikran calls filled their ears. Neteyam instantly knew what that meant—the war party was returning. Everyone in the hut ran outside to greet them and check for any major injuries if any.

Jake’s ikran landed roughly atop the rocky cliff. You flew in not a moment later. The crowds were thick around the edge and it was hard to truly see what was going on. Being as tall as he was, Neteyam still could not see that well past the others trying to get a closer look.

He did not know where you were. You must have gotten down from your ikran, because it’s back was empty and there was no sign of you. Neteyam tried to push through some of the crowd, but it wasn’t much use because no one wanted to move.

“I heard it was bad. Many people were injured.”

“I can not believe he let that little girl go on such a dangerous mission.”

“This was one of their toughest missions yet.”

The words floated around his head as he heard people muttering to one another. He tried not to picture the worst for you. You had made it back, he knew that, but were you severely injured? Neteyam’s heart was practically beating a hole in his chest trying to find you.

Finally, he caught sight of some familiar braids and war paint near the edge of the crowd. He recognized Tsanten and Ni`awtu at your side hugging you.

“Y/n!” He finally was able to break out of the group. He hurried to you, joining in on your siblings’ group hug. He felt the way you clutched the back of his head with one hand and the other held onto his arm with a firm grip.

“Are you okay? Are you injured?” Neteyam pulled back to back to examine your face for any injuries.

Despite the minor cuts and scrapes, nothing looked too alarming to his knowledge. You had a pretty large gnash on your back, but it wasn’t bleeding out profusely or anything.

“No, I am not injured. Just scraped up.” You gave him a tiny smile. He was glad he got to see that again as he cupped your face and placed a quick peck onto your lips.

“Come on, I am sure Mo’at has medicine for these cuts.” You let Neteyam lead you away from the crowds and back to the huts. He sat you down on the ground and then disappeared to find his grandmother.

When he returned he had a handful of herbs, creams, oils, and bandages in his arms. You giggled at the sight.

“I did not think you were much of a healer.” He dropped everything at your side and then kneeled down to your level.

“Well my grandmother is the Tsahik after all. I happen to know one or two things.” Neteyam argued, his lips dancing with a tiny smile.

He gently worked to take your visor off and then wiped away the war paint. He knew you didn’t like to talk about the missions right away, so he enjoyed the comfortable silence between you two instead.

Neteyam’s hands were gentle as he rubbed the special herbs against your skin. You would occasionally hiss when it hurt a little bit more and he would mumble something about how he was almost done and you were doing so well.

He certainly wasn’t a healer like his grandmother or Kiri who had a special hand at medicine, but it meant a lot to both of you when he would heal your wounds for youor, when you would heal his after a long hunting day.

“Many, many people got hurt today.” You spoke after some silence. Neteyam hummed behind you.

“It was that bad?”

“Their machines are just so powerful. We are no match with our bows and arrows sometimes. They had to have known we were coming because they attacked back at us so harshly.” You shook your head some and Neteyam knew there was vivid images replaying in your mind.

“It is so hard to understand why they want us dead. If they were just a bit kinder then maybe there could be more peace worked out.” You continued on with your little rant, frustration becoming set in your body language. Your shoulders fell tense under the Sully boy’s hands.

“You know how hard they have tried with us. Someone always gets hurt. I suppose after all the failed efforts they have no other choice but violence, unfortunately.” Neteyam knew all about the schools his mother once attended in her earlier years. It seemed like the Sky People tried making an effort, but nothing ever held permanently.

“I know, it is just so frustrating. Tsanten and Naria are growing to that age where they will be old enough to go out on their own. I worry for them and what those demons could do to them.” A scowl sat on your face. Neteyam turned you around, cupping your face in his hands.

“I know how terrifying it can be. I worry for my siblings everyday, but you are very strong and you will be able to teach them well.” You smiled, but it didn’t stay for long as you casted your gaze away from him.

“I just wish I was not the one to always do it. My parents pay no attention to them anymore. They are always away. It should not be my job to teach my siblings every single life skill they will ever need.” You pushed yourself up from the ground, leaving Neteyam’s grasp.

He watched you wander to the entryway where you stared at the people moving about outside. Many were still tending to those who were wounded more worse than you.

Neteyam wasn’t a complete open book, but when he was with you, he felt comfortable enough to share the things bothering him the most. You, on the other hand, had a more harder time opening up to him. He knew you trusted him, but he couldn’t pull everything from you. He knew you parents were strict and absent people, always being away, which is why you held so much responsibility and burden. However, he didn’t know much more than that. You always closed it off.

Hearing what you were saying now, though, it was more than what you would usually say. Neteyam got up to join you at the entryway.

“You are right, it should not be your job, but unfortunately it is. You do a great job at teaching them and raising them.” His hand fell against your back. You leaned a tiny bit closer to him while your gaze was on Foana and Tuk a few feet away.

“I worry that they think I am too hard on them, but I am really just trying to help them survive on their own.” In that moment, Neteyam realized something. His whole life, his parents taught him how to hunt, fish, make kills, but their biggest motto was “Sully’s stick together.”

While yes, he was learning things on his own, he was also learning that he wouldn’t have to be alone because his family would always have his back. You did not have that.

You were the one who would always have your siblings’ back, but they wouldn’t always necessarily have yours. You were teaching them to survive on their own, not to depend on one another like he was taught growing up. Independence was a key feature of your family dynamic. Dependence was the key feature of his family dynamic.

“You are not too hard on them. You are doing what you know and hoping they will learn it too. It is a great feature to know you will always be dependable for them. However, you can always depend on me if you ever needed something.” You met his gaze and Neteyam smiled warmly at you.

“Your words are too kind. Thank you, my love.” Neteyam’s ears perked up. He had never heard that nickname before from you. You giggled upon seeing his surprised reaction.

“No, thank you, pretty girl.” He engulfed his arms around your shoulders to bring you into his chest. You chuckled and he knew you didn’t quite understand his nickname he gave you, but it didn’t matter.

He thought that maybe you going out on these missions weren’t so bad as long as he was the one to patch you up afterwards—and he always was going to be the one patching you up every. single. time.

FOUR.

Neteyam ventured out on a day-long hunting expedition with his father, brother, and even your own little brother. You remembered how excited Tsanten was when Jake approached him one night to ask if he wanted to tag along to get some pointers from the older guys.

It warmed your heart to see Neteyam’s family being so welcome to your own. Tsanten didn’t have your dad to take him out like this, so being able to finally go out was like a dream come true for him, especially with the Olo’eyktan.

You had a pretty slow day considering Neytiri decided to take Tuk, Kiri, and your other three sisters out for what she liked to call a “girls day.” She extended the invite to you, but you figured with everyone out of the hut was a great opportunity to get some cleaning done.

With a job that would usually take hours, it only took about two and you were done by noon. Toys were put away; the rug was cleaned; things were put back where they belonged—the entire hut looked spotless.

You ended up venturing over to the Sully residence to see if Neytiri and the girls returned yet. You thought it was empty approaching since it was practically silent until you saw Mo’at sitting near the back grinding some of her herbs together.

She caught your eye before you could walk away. You had never really spoken to the Tsahik before. Most times, you would send your siblings in if they had gotten hurt and waited outside for them. You knew she was a woman of few words despite being so highly respected within the clan.

You bowed to her.

“You must be Neteyam’s…oh what do they say..girlfriend?” The older woman cracked a tiny smile causing you to flush.

“I suppose so, yes. I apologize for interrupting you.” You nodded to her bowl of herbs. She waved you off though, beckoning you inside.

“I come here sometimes to get away when I want to be alone. There is always someone bursting into my hut needing fixing.” You smiled a bit, sitting down beside the older Na’vi.

“I understand. It is always nice to get away sometimes.” She smiled, glad you understood her.

You felt a bit strange being in Neteyam’s home without him there. Ever since the family dinner, you had only been over a handful of times, so being here alone with just his grandmother was definitely different. The usual organized chaos that filtered through his home was replaced with tranquility as the day grew shorter.

“You are a hunter and warrior correct?” Mo’at spoke up again. Flushing that she knew that about you, you nodded.

“Those are very useful skills to have as a Na’vi like you. I am impressed, especially with how much my grandson tells me about you.” She waved her finger around. You were sure that if Neteyam was here he would be embarrassed she had said that.

“Thank you, Mo’at. My parents grew up that way, so they raised me the same.” Your parents had always been die-hard warriors, so it was practically in all of your blood to become just like them one day.

“I do not see your parents around as often as I used to.” Who knew the Tsahik knew so much about your family. You scratched the back of your ear to find some excuse that didn’t sound horrible to tell her.

“They are always on hunting trips. They like to travel a lot.” Not a complete lie, but not exactly the entire truth.

“I see, I see. They always seemed to be very ambitious people.” You nodded. Yes, ambitious was certainly one way to describe them.

“It is mostly just my siblings and I around the hut. They like to take very long hunting trips.” Mo’at nodded once again.

“Yes, Neteyam says that you are the main caretaker of your siblings.” You flushed again. How much was Neteyam actually talking about you when you weren’t around? A lot, apparently.

“That task can be rather daunting, but he says you handle it very well. All of your siblings seem like very respectful people.” She continued before you could respond. You smiled. That compliment meant a lot coming from Tsahik of the village.

“Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.” She grinned at you while continuing to crush and grind away in her little bowl.

“Would you like to try?” She looked down at the bowl. You flushed realizing she was asking you to help grind up her herbs.

“Oh, sure.” She switched places with you and you began doing exactly what she had done. You crushed them down into tiny little bits and pieces.

“This could be your job one day.” Mo’at eyed you as she added in another handful. Your entire face deepened into a darker shade of blue.

“Oh..I do not know about that. Maybe?” You liked Neteyam a lot, but you two were teenagers still. His selection for a mate was still so far away and he would not become Olo’eyktan for quite some time.

“You like my grandson, no?” For a woman of few words, Mo’at seemed to have a lot to talk about with you.

“Yes, I do. He is a lovely young man.” You weren’t sure, but you thought you saw her grin from the corner of you eye.

“I do not know much about..what does Jakesully say..teenage love, but I know my grandson likes you a lot. He talks and talks about you so much. I know it can be scary stepping into that kind of love, but I usually do not steer wrong when I watch my children fall in love. I was not wrong about Jakesully and my daughter.” Hearing all of this coming from Tsahik meant so much to you. You held a lot of respect for the older Na’vi and now she was sitting beside you giving you advice about relationships like you were one of her own.

“Your hunting and warrior skills matched with your caretaking skills would make a wonderful Tsahik one day if that is what happens.” She squeezed your arm and everything in you felt so warm and comforted. No one had ever said things like that to you before and hearing it from Mo’at made it even more special.

“You are too kind. Thank you.” You flushed for the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. Mo’at grinned once more.

“I know a kind soul when I see one. Eywa would not have brought you and Neteyam together if she was not wanting you two to be together in that way.” Obviously, Mo’at would know best when it came to Eywa. You smiled, glancing back down at the herbs.

Maybe one day this would be your fate.

—

Neteyam returned from his day-long hunting trip exhausted and ready to collapse into his hammock for a long nap. His mother was there to greet him with a kiss to the cheek and to his surprise, his grandmother was sitting inside eating her bowl of food.

“Hello, grandmother.” He bowed to her and she nodded back.

“Hello, my grandson. How was the trip?” Neteyam shrugged some, dropping his belongings to the ground for now. It was as best as it could be with Lo’ak being his usual self plus an added friend along for the ride.

“It was very informative. Father gave us great tips.” That part was not a lie. Jake always gave his sons great pointers for making their kills.

“That is great, I am very glad. I had a nice visit with your Y/n today.” Neteyam’s eyes widened a bit.

“You did? When?” He suddenly worried his grandmother told her embarrassing things about him or exposed how he would talk about her all the time.

“She stopped by here looking for you, I think, but I was here instead. I offered inside and we had a very nice chat. She is a wonderful young woman.” Neteyam couldn’t help but smile hearing that. You were amazing. He was glad to hear his grandmother liked her as much as he did.

“She would make a very wonderful Tsahik one day. She has nearly every skill necessary without even having much training for the position.” Mo’at eyed her grandson. Neteyam’s entire face flushed, but he also felt a sense of pride. You were great at nearly everything, he wasn’t surprised Mo’at thought that.

“Well, I hope one day it will happen. We are still young and—“

“Tsahik knows everything, son. It will happen.” Neteyam watched his grandmother beam at him widely. He flushed once more and then tried to hide the smirk forming on his lips by looking away.

In his head, he knew you were the one for him, but that was never definite. Hearing his grandmother basically confirm it was enough for him. You were it for him. Through and through.

FIVE.

You hadn’t snuck out during the night in awhile. Neteyam suggested it would be a nice way to get your minds off of things and just be with each other for a bit since your siblings were always interrupting or needing something.

Neteyam swung along the oh so familiar path to the tree he had taken so many times before. Eclipse had just begun and every time he was so amazed at how the forest lit up around him. It made Pandora that much more magical.

Like always, you had beaten him to the spot. Except this time, you weren’t alone. Your ikran was perched a few feet away and you had your riding visor on. Neteyam grew suspicious, but you only grinned at him.

“I thought we could go for a ride. We haven’t flown during Eclipse in so long.” You freckles were glowing and Neteyam could see the large smile on your face and your eagerness to fly.

“I did not bring any of my things and I only have my—“ You cut him off by revealing your hands that were hidden behind your back. You held his riding visor in your hands.

“I knew you would say that, so I planned ahead.” Neteyam could only smile at you. You always thought of everything.

“What if we get attacked or something?” Neteyam was still skeptical. He loved riding at Eclipse with you, but he felt under prepared if anything happened while you two were out.

“Nothing will happen, I promise. If it makes you feel any better, I have my bow. Come on, we have not ridden in so long.” You were tugging at his hand and he couldn’t resist your pleas. He took his visor from your hands and smiled.

“Okay, fine. Let’s do it.” He would do anything to be able to make you smile like you were right now. He called for his ikran while you hopped up on yours.

Once you two were both on, you exchanged a glance. There was a playful smirk on your lips as you pushed your visor down. Neteyam grew curious of the look.

“Last one to Ayram Alusing loses!” And then you were off before Neteyam could even process what you had said.

He quickly took off with you already five paces ahead of him. He had no idea how you gained so much speed already while he struggled to even pick up momentum. The wind blew against his face, making it burn some of his skin that was not protected. It was definitely not working in his favor tonight.

“You are losing, Neteyam!” He heard you call from ahead of him. He growled some and focused all of his energy into catching up to you.

He was finally able to catch up to your side. He smirked over at you.

“Who is losing now?” He teased and pushed ahead ignoring the harsh breeze as best as he could.

The two of you soared through the sky, the Hallelujah Mountains just ahead. Neteyam had the lead, but you were just on his tail, literally. If you reached out, you could probably touch the end of his ikran.

You had a competitive spirit, so there was no way you were letting yourself loose to Neteyam. From his peripheral, he saw you creeping up on him.

“You can not win everything, Y/n!” He called over to you, but there was something in your eye telling him you were definitely not losing this round.

He tried focusing through the bond to get his ikran to pull ahead as the first two mountains came up. However, you blew right past him like magic and crossed the imaginary finish like. Neteyam sighed in defeat as you pumped your arms up and down for another victory.

“I told you I would win. You do not win against me.” The eldest Sully still smiled nonetheless, enjoying seeing you so happy. He would lose a hundred times to you to be able to see you as happy and carefree as you were right now.

“My apologies, I should have known I had no chance.” Neteyam held his hands up in surrender. The little smirk continued to dance on your lips as you took off to keep flying around the mountains.

The boy stuck close to your side, the two of you smiling widely as you weaved in and around the large rock formations. You would occasionally dive over the larger branches hanging out to make it a game.

Neteyam felt like his parents where he knew they still snuck out at later hours of the night to do this. It was so thrilling, yet so relaxing at the same time. The breeze had finally died down and it no longer felt like bullets pelting his skin as he rode.

“You want to rest here? There is an open spot.” You pointed up ahead at a clearing in one of the mountain tops. Neteyam nodded and followed you to the landing.

You jumped off your ikran, taking in your surroundings. The entire area was glowing its bioluminescent glow. Each flora, leaf, tree moss, everything was shining bright acting as the light in the dark night.

“That was easily the best ride I have had in awhile. What about you?” You flipped your visor up and turned to Neteyam. In a swift move, he snaked his arms around your waist to bring you closer.

“That certainly was a great ride, but maybe next time you will lose the race here.” He grinned and earned an eye roll from you.

“In your dreams. You may be future Olo’eyktan, but you can never win against me.” You shook your head and Neteyam only chuckled.

“And you may be future Tsahik one day, so that competitive nature may need to die down a bit.” He smirked and your face flushed. You broke away from his grasp to look up at the blue-purple sky.

“Your grandmother speaks of the same thing.” You smiled, thinking about your time with Mo’at a few weeks ago.

“Is that what you two talked about that one day?” Neteyam questioned, always wondering what his grandmother could possibly be saying to you when he wasn’t around.

“She is a very kind lady. She knows what she is talking about.” You laughed some. Neteyam cringed knowing she definitely embarrassed him during that conversation.

“Did she say anything about me?” He had to ask even if he didn’t want to know.

“Oh, so many things. She loves you.” You found a comfortable spot against one of the trees to stargaze. Neteyam joined you.

“Anything embarrassing?” Your tiny giggle told him all he needed to know. He internally face palmed.

“If I told you, it would ruin the fun.” You grinned and Neteyam knew that Mo’at definitely embarrassed the shit out of him. Wonderful.

“Well, I am serious about your future Tsahik fate. Just think, you and I head of the clan one day. It would be perfect.” Neteyam threw his arm around you and you giggled at the image appearing in your head.

The Sully boy pictured it too. It looked very similar to his mother and father right now. You would still be a warrior while also caring for the people when they needed it. He would wear the large feather chest piece and headpiece his father wore—planning hunting trips, war parties, overseeing the entire clan. The future was so close yet so far. He knew it would be before him soon.

For now though, he wouldn’t worry about that and enjoyed the time he was spending with you by his side. It was enough waking up in the early hours of the morning, spending hours on specific skills, he didn’t need to wish it upon himself right now.

“Well, if it does happen, at least the people seem content with your choice of..me.” You giggled at your wording. Neteyam smiled.

“It is a miracle no one has talked much. I think they know my father will be at their throats considering I am their son if they did say anything about you.”

“I knew it would be fine. You worry too much sometimes, you know.” You poked at his chest, making him squirm away from you.

“I am merely just caring about you. It is not worry.” Neteyam attempted to defend himself, but it was clear he had a weak defense.

“You also worry. Do not be afraid to admit it. It is charming knowing you worry so much.” Another grin came from you.

“Well of course I am going to worry and care. It is who I am.” You pulled him back towards you so he could cuddle into you.

“And I love who you are.” You cradled his head, pulling your hand through his pretty braids.

He almost said it. He almost had the courage to tell you.

Jake taught Neteyam the phrase when he once asked what it meant after hearing him tell it to his mother. Jake explained how it was much more intimate than I see you. It was something the Sky People would tell those they cared deeply for.

Neteyam had been wanting to say it you for ages, but he never thought it was the right time. He didn’t know how you would react. Would you freak out? Would you say it back? Did you love him? He for sure loved you, but he wasn’t sure if you reciprocated his feelings that much. He didn’t want to scare you with such a meaningful phrase. It seemed like the right time, but it also didn’t at the same time.

Instead, he nuzzled his head further into you and breathed you in. He savored the way your hair smelled—somehow it always smelled like fresh flowers. He listed to your heartbeat, nearly putting him to sleep. The moment was taking him over. It was complete bliss and comfort being in your arms.

THE ONE TIME HE SAID IT.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

You planned a cute little picnic in the forest for you and Neteyam. He was dragged out of his hut with instructions to keep his eyes closed or he would ruin the surprise. Your grip on his hand was tight as he was dragged through the forest, occasionally knocking his head against a low hanging branch you forgot to push out of the way.

“Y/n, that was the third branch. Where are we going?” He laughed trying to figure out where he was, but it wasn’t much luck considering he was blindfolded.

“Just be patient. You will love it.” You hoped he would love it. You worked to put it together all day yesterday, so if he didn’t like it you’d be damned.

Trusting you, Neteyam kept accepting hits to the head and scratches to the arm knowing it had to be worth it in the end.

When you two finally arrived at your destination, you pulled the cloth from his eyes. He squinted, not used to the bright light, but when his vision finally leveled out, he was in awe of what he saw.

The little clearing had been decorated with numerous vines that wrapped around each tree branch. Flower petals were scatted along the ground. It looked like something from his dreams.

“Surprise! What do you think? A picnic in the forest.” You held your arms out, excitement bouncing across your face. Neteyam was still speechless at the effort that must’ve been put into all of it.

“You did this all for me?” You nodded, leading him further in.

“Of course I did. I had some help from Kiri and my sisters, but you deserve it after all the work you have been doing.” You turned to him, grinning widely. Neteyam cupped your face trying to find the words to express his gratitude.

“You are the best person ever. Thank you, my love.” He pecked your lips and then went to see what you had packed for your picnic.

You joined him on the blanket Neytiri let you use while Neteyam immediately began eating anything he saw. You laughed at his actions.

“Someone has not eaten yet today?”

“Oh, you have no idea. I have been out since the eclipse ended training with my father.” You grinned, glad you could feed him.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

Since it was a spur the moment surprise, neither of you thought to bring any weapons with you besides the knives you always carried. It was a part of the forest only Na’vi went. There was no possible way danger could lurk around the corner or behind a tree.

“If you could come back as anything you wanted, what what you want to come back as?” Neteyam laid across the blanket staring up at the clear sky. Your head was beside his as you laid the other way. Your stomach’s were full of food and now you were just relaxing in the sun.

“Anything?” That was a hard question. There was so many things you wanted to be.

“Anything.”

“I think I would want to come back as an ikran. They are so beautiful and just imagine being able to go anywhere you wanted basically. Flying through the sky with your rider. It sounds like such a dream.” You adored your rides with your ikran and being one would be a whole other level you would want to experience.

“I think I would want to come back as one of the good scientists like Norm or Dr. Max.” Neteyam’s answer surprised you and even himself. Sky People were evil and even some didn’t fully trust the good scientists who stayed behind, but he wanted to know what it felt like to live as human.

His father told him and his siblings countless stories of his time being apart of the Sky People and it always intrigued Neteyam.

“I know it sounds crazy, but my father told us so many stories as his time as one of them. It just seems so interesting to me.” He continued his reasoning when you didn’t respond.

“I understand it. I think it would be interesting to live as them for a day.” It was strange to Neteyam. Sky People could live like his people whenever they chose to, but he could not live like them. There was no science to make human bodies for Na’vi people who wanted the experience.

He got a lot of exposure from Spider, but it wasn’t really the same. Neteyam wanted to see it, feel it for himself.

“I have just always felt human because of my father’s blood. Even though I do not have the five fingers like Lo’ak and Kiri, I still have half of his blood in me.” Neteyam tore his gaze to his hands. His long, thin fingers that were just like his mother’s and Tuk’s.

His parents liked to say he took on more of Neytiri’s genes while Lo’ak gained Jake’s.

“It is okay to wonder and want to feel it, Neteyam. You are half human, half Na’vi. It is good you are curious.” You reached up to caress his cheek and the boy leaned into your touch.

“It just feels wrong, though. The Sky People are demons. They hurt us. Why do I want to wonder more about them?” In a sense, he also felt guilt. He knew how much his mother despised those people and even sometimes Spider because he was one of them. Why should he want to know more when all they did was hurt people?

“Do not feel guilty for wondering. Your father was them once upon a time,” He grinned at your english phrase you used. Him and Lo’ak were definitely rubbing off on you. “And he is a good human. You can still wonder and want to be like them and still be good. Norm and Max are good Sky People. It is your blood, your ancestors. Do not feel bad for wanting to wonder.” Neteyam liked the reassurance you were giving him. He was worried he sounded crazy or something.

He was about to respond when his ears twitched for a second and he suddenly got a random chill across his arms. A faint rustling noise floated into his ears. He quickly sat up.

Normally, he wouldn’t have been so alarmed, but the way his skin started to crawl told him it wasn’t some animal lurking.

“Neteyam? What is wrong?” You sat up seeing his quick change in demeanor.

“Shh, be quiet for a second.” He held his finger to his lips. His eyes bounced around the area you two were in and he grabbed for his knife.

The rustling noise continued and it got closer to where you guys were. Neteyam grabbed your arm, making you stand up with him. His actions were frightening you because you didn’t know what was going on.

“Someone else is here.” He whispered to you. He felt his heart beating a bruise into his chest at the idea of someone else lurking close by.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

A noise and then an arrow was flying just above your heads. You screamed out of instinct and fear. Neteyam’s hand was back on you about to hide behind a tree. When he spun around, two larger hands with a much stronger grip grabbed ahold of the two of you.

You screamed again. Neteyam hit them with his knife causing a minor distraction. He spun away from the prying hands, until four more people emerged from the bushes, large guns in their hands. He suddenly stopped, knowing he couldn’t take them with just a knife.

“Well, look at what we have here. Looks like we crashed someone’s date.” Neteyam knew it wasn’t a true Na’vi by the way they wore full clothes and spoke in english to him. It was Avatars.

The one, tall with a buzz cut haircut, crouched down to be at his eye level. Neteyam hissed at him as he scanned his entire face with his eyes. He held his knife out for defense.

“I heard you talking a few moments ago. You said your father was from the..Sky People. Your father doesn’t happen to be Jake Sully, does it?” With the English Neteyam did understand, he knew this guy was bad and clearly had his dad on his radar.

“Oe rä’ä tslam nga.” (I do not understand you) Neteyam growled out. The avatar looked at him, quirking his eyebrow and exchanging a glance with his accomplices with him.

You continued to struggle in the hands that held a tight grip on you.

“If you tell me where your father is, I’ll let her go.” He nodded towards you. Neteyam only hissed at him once more, knife high, ready to strike.

“Or we can do this the hard way, it’s up to you. You are definitely your father.” The avatar man grabbed Neteyam’s hand. He examined his fingers, raising his eyebrow once more.

“Sure didn’t get his genes though, that’s for sure.” The others snickered around them. Neteyam pulled his hand back, unsure of what to do. If he went for a hit, they wound shoot and he didn’t want that to happen.

His eyes gazed over at you. You met his gaze, the same unsureness resting in your look. If you were scared, Neteyam couldn’t tell because you hid it well.

He couldn’t call in his dad because that would just lead this guy right to him. He was out of any good options.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

“All you have to do is tell me where your dad is and no one will get hurt.” Neteyam thought of an idea.

He slowly raised his hands in means of surrender. The guy looked at him, curious. Neteyam set his knife down by his feet and then slowly moved his hands to where his transmitter sat on his neck.

He pushed into the buttons and began speaking in Na’vi since these guys clearly didn’t understand it as well as he could speak it.

(Let’s pretend this is Na’vi because I can’t translate the entire conversation 😌)

“Dad, we’re under attack, I need help.” Neteyam glanced warily at the man standing before him who watched his moves carefully.

“Neteyam? Where are you?” His dad came into his ear, urgent and worried.

“In the forest where the open clearing is. Avatar men with guns. We’re surrounded.”

“We? Who is we?”

“Y/n and I. We need your help.” The guy wasn’t exactly picking up on what Neteyam was saying which was good. His plan was working so far.

“Okay, we’re on our way.” And then he was out. Neteyam knew two things after that: one, his father was a much better fighter than these guys were. He was Na’vi, he had years and years to adapt. He could take these guys out easily. Two, his dad wasn’t going to give himself up to this guy and if they could defeat him, it wouldn’t even be in the question.

“He is coming now.” Neteyam spoke in english so the guy understood. He quirked his eyebrow once more, almost surprised.

“Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.” The others chucked around them. Behind his back, Neteyam made a small hand signal to you that he hoped you would understand.

Suddenly, there was a screech. You had bitten the arm that was holding you. Neteyam used that distraction to grab his knife from the ground. He went for the guy’s leg.

You wrestled out of the grasp. The others went for you, but being the skilled warrior you were, it was easy to take them out. You swung your leg around, taking one out with your foot.

Neteyam slashed the leg of the guy and went for his gun. His father had taught him and Lo’ak how to use one, so he knew exactly where to go to blow the amo out of it.

He used his knife to slash another one’s arm. It was pure chaos. Blood sputtered every which direction and the others were trying to fire their guns at you two. You were quicker than them, though. You knocked them from their hands and kicked their legs out.

One particular cut Neteyam made went across the entire face of one of the avatars.

“Quaritch, we need to fall back. We can’t take this many losses right now.” One of them urgently spoke to the one Neteyam slashed the leg of.

“I need Jake Sully. I am not leaving without him.” He argued bitterly.

“We’ll come back when we’re better prepared! At least we know they’re close by.” He seemed to finally give in. He called something Neteyam didn’t understand and all of his accomplices began retreating back into the forest where they had come from.

Relief flooded through Neteyam. They were leaving and the both of you were still safe. However, his relief didn’t last for very long.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

He turned to you, a smile spread across his lips until he saw the way you clutched your stomach. Your hands were trembling as they slowly revealed what was happening. Your knife handle was sticking out and blood was dripping from your skin.

There wasn’t a smile on his face anymore. His relief disappeared and was quickly replaced by fear.

“Neteyam..” You sputtered, swaying on your feet. He was quick to catch you before you hit the ground.

“No, no, no, no, Y/n. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. Look at me. Look at me. You’re okay.” He was sputtering, clutching your arm and staring at the way your knife was lodged into your stomach.

“Why am I so warm? Is it warm?” Your entire face was losing color by the second. Neteyam, even though he tried not to show it for your sake, was panicking.

“You’re fine. It’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. Help is coming. They’re coming to help us.” He knew better than to pull the knife out, but you were practically pouring blood everywhere.

“Am I dying? Is this what it feels like to die?” The blood loss was making you go into shock. Neteyam was cradling your head, trying to stay calm for you and himself.

“No, you are not dying, my love. You are going to be okay. You are not going to die. I will not let you die.” If he had his bow and arrow, maybe he would’ve been able to take down those other guys easier. If he had a better weapon, anything other than a knife then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

You were not dying.

Your breathing started becoming rigid. It was broken into heavy pants and you were sputtering again.

“If-if I don’t..If I don’t make it..Can you-will you take care of them for me?” Your siblings. Neteyam visibly shut his eyes for a moment. How would he explain this to Foana? Who would take care of them if you..no you were not dying.

“Do not say that. You are going to take care of them because you are going to live. My dad is coming. Everything is going to be okay.” It was mostly just so Neteyam would believe himself too. Everything was going to be okay.

His ears twitched and perked up when he heard sounds of ikrans coming. His father’s ikran came into view along with his mother’s. They landed and then rushed to where you two were.

“Dad! Someone put her knife into her. She..she is losing so much blood.” Neteyam’s voice broke that time. He couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Shit, shit.” Neteyam watched as his dad gently flipped you to your side. Luckily, there was no exit wound, but the blood kept coming.

“I-I do not feel very good. I-I-“ You were heaving at this point. Your eyes were glazing over and your entire skin had gone from a deep blue to an entirely lighter shade.

“Y/n, you need to stay with me. Please, please stay with me.” Neteyam cupped your face, trying to keep your eye contact with him.

“We need to get her to the village. To Max and Norm and Mo’at.” Neytiri had a look of pure horror on her face seeing you like that.

Your eyes couldn’t stay open much longer. The blood loss was becoming fatal. Neteyam began shaking you when he saw your eyelids drift closed.

“Y/n! Y/n!” He was in too much of a panic to even check if you were breathing or not still. He could not lose you. Not now.

“We need to get her to the village, right now. Neteyam! Are you with me?” His father was practically yelling at this point. However, his eldest son fell into what was his own shock.

He did not and could not move seeing your almost lifeless body in front of him. He didn’t process it as his dad lifted you up to his ikran. His mother had to pull him to his feet, trying to snap him back into attention. Nothing worked, though.

All he could think about was you. You, you, you. You were in love. His future woman. His future mate. You were the sister to his siblings. The sister to your siblings. You were their care taker. Who would..who would take care of them now?

He should’ve told you. He should’ve told you the other night on your night ride. It was so close on the tip of his tongue. Why couldn’t he find the courage to tell you then? What if he never got to tell you ever now?

Your body became so lifeless in his arms. Pale skin, gone eyes, blood nearly everywhere. This couldn’t be the end. There was so much life ahead for the two of you. Your future plans. He couldn’t possibly do it all without you.

His mother somehow managed to get him onto her ikran. She flew quickly through the sky after her husband who clutched your body tightly.

When they landed, you were rushed directly to Max and Norm. Mo’at was brought in to give you a heavy sedation medicine so they could pull the knife out without damaging anything serious. It was near chaos. No one but Mo’at was allowed where they were inside the labs.

Neteyam chewed on his bottom lip. Guilt, fear, anger, sadness, everything at once was eating him up inside. He figured he should be the one to tell your siblings what happened, so he did.

Their faces were enough for him to finally break down right in front of them. It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me. The phrase repeated in his head like a broken record.

All five of them sat on the ground of your hut hugging one another close. For a moment he hated your parents for not being here in this moment. They had no idea what was happening to their daughter right now.

Neytiri offered their hut to your siblings without hesitation to stay in.

Hours were ticking by it stated to feel like days to Neteyam. There was no word on the progress or your condition. It was merely a waiting game at this point. The knife was lodged deep and you lost a lot of blood.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

Mo’at finally emerged after what seemed like almost six hours where a large group had gathered outside of the lab doors—Neteyam and his family included. All of them deeply concerned about your well-being.

“The knife has been removed. She is stable, but she is sleeping still and will be for a few days.” A tiny bit of relief washed through Neteyam knowing the operation was at least successful.

—

The days went by and you had finally awoken. Once visitors were allowed, your siblings were the first to check on you, of course. Neteyam hung back, a bit anxious and nervous to see you again.

He felt so guilty for what happened. He could not protect you after saying countless times that he would at any given moment. His failure caused him to hang his head low and avoid looking people’s way when he went out.

Kiri, Tuk, and Lo’ak were the next group of visitors. Neteyam still hung back. Maybe it was fear that was holding him back?

Could he possibly look you in the eye again after seeing you with a knife lodged into you? Not really. His fear made him feel upset in a sense. Why could he not face you? You were his love, yet he could not find himself to step foot into the lab.

A few more days passed and eventually the doctors and Mo’at agreed to move you back into your hut for more comfort. Neteyam avoided the entire village that day, in fear that he would see you.

What was wrong with him? One minute he could not stop seeing you and now he was afraid to even make eye contact with you.

It made him feel even more guilty.

One night, he sat outside by one of the drop-off spots. His head pounded and every single thought he ever had was swirling around like a school of fish.

He didn’t feel another presence until he caught sight of his mother sitting down beside him. She had began recognizing his absent behaviors and his avoidant gazes anytime he was around people. She knew how hard this was on her son.

“Have you seen her at all?” She crafted her words gently. Neteyam shook his head.

“I cannot. It pains me and the guilt is eating me alive.” He grabbed his chest like something was actually messing with him in there.

“Well, she is asking for you. She is confused why you have not seen her yet. You should go see her, Neteyam.”

“I can not. Every time I look at her I remember the horrid images of the knife deep in her stomach as the blood seeped through. It was the worst part of everything. I promised her protection and I can not even do that anymore.” He wanted his mother to understand, but he knew she wound not. Not completely, at least.

“Neteyam, this is not your blame. You did everything you could and no one is blaming you. I promise you, son.” Her arm outstretched to bring comfort to her son. She rubbed his back, trying to get him to understand.

“Then why do I feel so, so guilty like it is my fault?” He pleaded for an answer. His mother tried to come up with as best of an answer as she could.

“When you care for someone as deeply as you do, whatever happens to them begins to feel like it is your fault. It is not your fault, though. You take the blame because you think there is no where else to place it. My son, you did everything you could. No one is upset at you or mad or angry. Y/n is not upset with you. Do not think that.” Neteyam’s head hung low.

“I think it will fix a lot of things if you go see her. You will begin to realize this was none of your doing or fault.” Neytiri urged once more and Neteyam knew he couldn’t keep refusing. He had to be mature. He was almost Olo’eyktan and he couldn’t even face his own injured (almost) mate.

“Okay. I will go see her.” Neytiri smiled, giving her son a nod of encouragement.

The Sully boy stood and turned in the direction of your hut. He started bracing himself—for insults? Anger? Sadness? Frustration?

The closer he got to you, the faster his heart would beat against his chest. From inside, he could hear your siblings talking and at times arguing with one another.

He tapped on the wood before pushing aside the flap that covered the inside. Tsanten and Naria looked his way.

“Neteyam! You’re here!” Foana was at his legs, hugging him much like Tuk did. He smiled down at the little girl.

“Hello, Foana. Tsanten. Naria. Ni`awtu.” He bowed before them. Their looks told him they had never been greeted that way before.

In the corner, Neteyam caught sight of your figure. You were sitting upright carving something when you finally noticed his presence in your home.

“Neteyam, hello. Come in, come in.” You urged him in further. He slowly went to you and your siblings filtered themselves out knowing you two probably needed some space.

“You look so much better. How are you feeling?” He questioned taking in your skin that returned to its usual blue shade. You smiled some.

“I am definitely feeling a lot better. How are you?” You took ahold of his hands. The questioned seemed silly to him considering he wasn’t the one who got stabbed.

“I am doing okay. I am not the one who got stabbed, though.” He stifled a small laugh. You rubbed at his fingers and he was just glad to be able to feel your hands in his again, not the lifeless feeling they once were.

“Well, I have not seen you yet, so I was making sure you were okay.” Neteyam grimaced just a bit. He felt guilty for not visiting you sooner, but he just couldn’t bring himself to face you in the state that you were in.

“Yes, I am okay. I am sorry I did not visit you sooner. I..I just felt guilty about all of this and I was being selfish with myself.” His head hung low, ears dropping. You grabbed his chin though, shaking your head.

“There is nothing to feel guilty about, Neteyam. You did everything you could. Eywa gave me life again because she knew my time was not over yet. This was not your fault.” Your words were reassuring. He forced a small smile.

“Plus, you forget how strong I am. I have thick skin. Literally.” You laughed this time. The joke was corny, but it made both of you smile.

You allowed yourself to pull Neteyam closer and he situated himself so his head laid in your lap. He closed his eyes at the feeling of your fingers raking through his braids. It was a familiar feeling he had grown to miss while you were recovering.

“Hey, Y/n?” You turned your attention to the boy in your lap.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” Neteyam’s heart was pounding, nervous for your reaction. He wasn’t sure if that was an Earth phrase you knew or understood, but he hoped it was.

A tiny smile danced on your lips. You caressed his cheek, leaning down to kiss it.

“I love you.”

The rest of the evening was spent wrapped in each other’s arms.

#avatar #avatar 1 #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar 2009 #avatar james cameron #avatar the way of water #awow #avatar: the way of water #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x f!reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #jake sully #lo’ak sully #neytiri sully #kiri sully #tuk sully #tsireya

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 2.1

[here] || 2.2 || 2.3 || 2.4

i am almost done with writing ch 3, and that means i can publish chapter 2! woo! thanks for everyone’s patience! i’ll be posting twice a week! wed and sat :) this is a short part, but the other three parts are all *much* longer lol.

ch 1, part 1

masterlist

By the time Steve got home, it was a little after six in the evening, so he wasn’t sure if he would hear from Chrissy that night or not. Either way, he was very excited to be able to tell Robin that he got the job.

He felt a buzzing under his skin, an itch to do something productive, so he went to his bedroom and began to sort out his clothes. He immediately realized that he didn’t know how long the tour was going to be, so he pulled out his phone and added the question to his notesapp. How he went so long without asking about it was beyond him, as it seemed like a bit of information that was important.

Putting his phone down, Steve returned to his open closet and stared at his clothes in contemplation. It was at some point after this that he received a call, after he’d started filling a suitcase but before he’d even filled it half way.

Recognizing the number, Steve answered, “Hello, this is Steve speaking.”

“Hello, Steve! It’s Chrissy, how are you?” the woman on the other end responded with a cheerful tone.

“Hi, Chrissy! I’m good, how was your day?” he asked with a wince, god, he hated small talk.

“It was great, thanks for asking!” she answered. “The reason for my call is to let you know that you’ve been chosen as the best qualified candidate! I’ve already emailed you the paperwork that needs to be filled out, as well as details of the contract.”

“Oh, my god! Thank you!” Steve said, trying to act surprised, and not as though Eddie had already told him.

“I know Eddie already told you,” well, there went that, “but I still wanted to call you and let you know officially.”

“Uh, yes, he did tell me,” Steve admitted, slightly embarrassed, but pushed through.

He hated phone calls.

“That’s alright, I figured he would. Do you have any questions for me?” Chrissy asked, a clicking sound happening that Steve assumed was her fidgeting with a pen.

“I do, actually! Two.”

“Great! Hit me with ‘em.”

“How long should I pack for?” Steve asked, biting his lip nervously. He looked at the mess he had created of his room again, this time while trying to pack his suitcase.

“The second half of the tour is about two and a half months, but depending on how things go, you could be hired for a full time position while he’s not touring,” Chrissy answered easily, to which Steve hummed as he filed the information away. “We’ll also be sleeping in hotels some of the nights, so you’ll have access to laundry units in them.”

“Sweet! And, well, the second question might be a bit rude,” he confessed, leaning to rest his back against his bed.

Chrissy’s laughter echoed from the phone, “I’m sure I’ve been asked worse. What is it?”

“Do you happen to be hiring for any other reasons? My best friend, Robin, is looking for a full time job so she doesn’t have to work three part time jobs,” Steve explained, trying to be as appropriate as possible while inquiring about another job for a different person.

“Funny you should ask,” Chrissy said, sounding as though she were grinning, “a stipulation of Eddie getting a nanny is that I would hire an assistant to help with my workload for the band. I’ve only received two applicants, so I’d be more than thrilled to add a third to it. I’ll email you the listing to send to your friend.”

“Really? I honestly didn’t expect that to work,” Steve said, mildly impressed with himself.

Chrissy laughed again, “Well, I haven’t hired her yet,” she teased.

“Still, the only thing I was hesitant about was leaving her behind,” he grabbed a random shirt and started folding it to have something to fidget with. “I’m glad that there’s a chance. I’ll definitely have her send in an application.”

“Great! Any other questions?” she asked, to which Steve responded in the negative.

“Not at the moment, no.”

“I’ll get you the information of what we talked about, then, and you should be good. We’ll see you on the 17th.”

“See you on the 17th,” Steve confirmed with a wide smile. The line went dead, and he immediately checked his email for the documents she had sent before the call.

i tagged everyone who was tagged in ch 1, and anyone who requested it in the last part. lmk if i missed you, and if you want to be added, verify either in the comments, tags, messaging me, or your bio that you’re 18+. thank you &lt;;3

@marklee-blackmore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @steddie-as-they-go @disrespectedgoatman @lingeringmirth @hyperfixated-on-stuff @swimmingbirdrunningrock @littlewildflowerkitten @sani-86 @thegingerrapunzel @adventures-in-mangaland @missingmalfoy1 @yellowdevilkitten @extra-transitional @queen-stevie @stevesbipanic @crypticcorvidinacottage @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @eyehartart @gutterflower77 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @fairytalesreality @dawners

#and so it begins :D #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie #omega!steve #alpha!eddie #stuck in your throat #siyt 🎤 #unsteddie writing

[aconflagrationofmyown]

Even Goldish in the Privacy of Bowls do it

A Sarge & lil Mama episode

circa 1966 (yes this got moved a little from original shooting time of the movie hinted at here-in, shh)

Elvis Presley x original character -chart refresher for kid’s ages HERE

Warnings: 18+ -y’all, this is perhaps my most unhinged attempt at chaos yet. Finally we’re getting to see more of the kids, maybe more than wanted when a man’s just trying to grab a quickie in the shower with his wife. Warnings include unhinged family chaos, filthy smut, Elaine using firearms, brief mention of animal death by gunshot, brief mention of implied young children sleeping in their parents bed/bedroom while past sexual activities may have taken place, and -PLEASE NOTE- multiple references to an eating disorder on Elvis’ part. Troubling issues like this are integral to him and his mindset at the time so I include them, but please be aware there’s language in here that’s dismissive and condoning at times by certain individuals, just as it’s pleaded against by others. Along with brief body issues and shaming. Just a caution.

Word count: 12k -hope ya missed my tomes lol

Thanks: ever so much thanks is owed to many for their help and support but particularly to the dolls who made this so much better worse with their suggestions. Calling out @missmaywemeetagain @elvisabutler @eliseinmemphis @ab4eva @stylespresleyhearted

Summary: when Elaine visits the Colonel’s bungalow early on a Hawaiian dawn to defend her man and his appetite for her fried chicken -bringing along a loaded firearm for emphasis- the pelicans aren’t the only things startled.

Seven o’clock in the balmy hours of a Hawaiian morning, a solitary gunshot broke the peaceful silence and sent the beach birds squawking into the jungle’s dense foliage.

As seven AM was an ungodly hour of the day to expect anything from a human being, Elvis Presley was still in bed, asleep, and finally settled into that sorta circadian rhythm that helped him sleep through nightmares, alarm clocks, voracious wives and the pokes and prods of three to five children in his bed.

But a gunshot was jarring enough he swam to the surface of consciousness long enough to fling an arm out and pat Laney’s sweet ass and mumble an inquiry as to wether she had any clue why someone was shooting a gun in fuckin’ Hawaii. Especially as he, the only one likely to do so, was, quite obviously, in bed with her.

Except Laney’s sweet flesh wasn’t anywhere to be grabbed the more he flailed his arm in the cold sheets and, with a sudden bolt of terror, Elvis sat up and searched about the room only to find her gone. Jack was, predictably, still clinging to the same pillow Elvis had mistaken as her. He felt a little validated by that.

Two more gunshots punctuated his growing alarm and before two seconds had passed he was flying out of bed despite the way Jack’s legs clung to him and he exited the bungalow door with nothing but his silk night shorts on and espadrilles.

“Laney? The hell are you, woman?” he bellowed out the veranda with caring bravado.

No answer. Which didn’t mean much but it was harder to shake shit like this since the recent uptick in hate crimes and the way those girls had jumped her at their own gate last summer. His knuckles ached at the mere memory of the pummeling he’d given those tarts’ car hood. Nothing funny or harmless about it.

“Laney!”

Jesse barreled out shortly after and stood beside Elvis with a mimicking pose of concern, staring out at the beach with his hands on his hips, surveying the glittering water in the fresh sun’s rays and the undisturbed sand for miles. She wasn’t anywhere to be seen for that long stretch of golden beach.

“You seen your mother?” he asked Jesse sternly.

“No sir, didn’t hear her go out either. She not in bed?”

“No, and I didn’t hear her either. Neither did Jack and he’s always wound round her like a sloth to a branch.”

“Maybe she’s the one doin’ the shootin.” Jesse ventured with a mild expression of hope.

Father and son were both recalling when Elaine had given Elvis ample complaint and ample warning to do something about his reprobate pet chimp and when nothing was done and a child was harmed, Laney stalked into the den where Elvis and the boys were going over rehearsals and asked if he’d like to do the honors of shooting the damn monkey. When he laughed her off she trumped upstairs and the next thing Elvis knew was Tink clipping past the den and out the front door in her heels with his shotgun in her hand, while poor, unfortunate Scatter was being carried by the scruff of his sailor costume.

By the time Elvis caught up with her she’d put five holes in the hairy little pervert. To be perfectly honest he was aghast at such overriding of his jurisdiction but it didn’t prevent him from appreciating that when she meant business, she meant it.

So, it was plausible Laney was shooting something at seven am, and that was one of the reasons Elvis loved her. The only trick was, there was no Scatter here, no enemies in the general vicinity for her to be shooting at.

Elvis commented as much to his young son in grave deliberation.

“ ‘Cept for the colonel.” Jesse pointed out blithely and at that excellent observation all of Elvis’ blood felt like it rushed to his brain and pounded within like a tribal drum.

“Oh sweet merciful Jesus-“ Elvis wheezed and took off from his porch in a sprint along the beach hedges, towards the colonel’s adjacent bungalow, the roof of which -now that he was looking- appeared to have smoke coming out of its abnormally saggy thatch.

“She didn’t like it when he called ya fat yesterday!” Jesse was still hell bent on a little redeeming PR and Elvis waved at him with the back of his hand in acknowledgment that, if Laney was murdering, it would be for him.

And his fat self.

And for the reputation of her fried chicken that Elvis had been laying off of ever since he got so damn pudgy no director would hire him without contractually asking for a little casual bulimia on the side.

It was all part of the business, the snow job of an available and attractive man made harder by the real life presence of a wife and brood of children. The addition of a decidedly fatherly gut wasn’t gonna make them money.

He got it. Laney didn’t.

He tried to jog faster through the sand before she put her fingerprints all over the scene.

Inside the bungalow Elaine fanned the smoke out of her face with red tipped fingers and kept her diction very clipped as was most effective with this self consumed weasel.

“Am I understood? No more sedation and no more starvation and stop recommending those damn uppers that keep him buzzing while his body goes undernourished.”

Elaine still gripped the shotgun barrel, right there by the racker thingy but Parker had watched this woman long enough to know that if he agreed, then she would be pacified enough, he’d live to see another day.

“I get you, Mrs. Presley,” he assured in a pleasing tone, one that always suggested she started this long war between them, “no more. It was the business I was thinking of, it is my role. And yours is to nurture. You cannot expect me to have the same leniency as a wife, but I bow to your superior discretion.”

“You’ve kept him from home, colonel, robbed him and my children of valuable time together just because he knows he’ll be tempted to eat when he’s home. You’re a cruel, heartless Scrooge, that’s what you are. And this ain’t over.”

“It was merely business, Elaine.” he looks close to crying and she feels tempted to blast another shell into his roof.

“It's not your fault Colonel,” she steadied herself and he always liked how she was not so emotional like some women, even if she was icier than Elvis would ever admit, “I wouldn’t expect you to know what appeals to women, you never had the chance to appeal to them yourself. But I’ll tell you now, just for your excelsior betterment, some women like a sturdier man, some women like more cheeks on their husband, and your gravest omission when thinking of his appeal -a slight ponch rubs ever so delightfully on a woman’s clitoris when making love. You have heard of those, haven’t you? Maybe not, I’ll leave you to peruse the encyclopedia. It’s under C.”

Elvis got smacked in the face by the opening door as she stepped out right as he barreled in.

“Good morning honey, why on earth are you awake?” she greeted blithely as the door swung behind her and she raked his bed head back into place with her hands.

“Because you were shootin’ up the damn island.” he cried, “The hell’s goin’ on, Tink? You kill the colonel?”

“No. Of course not.” she rolled her eyes, “I’m just on a roll, keeping varmints in their places. It was his turn.”

“What’s he done wrong?” Elvis was aghast.

“Oh honey we haven’t got the time for all that on such a perfect morning.” she laughed instead, “C'mon back to bed, when you wake up again I’ll make you your favorite.”

“I can’t have flap jacks right now, Laney, you know that.” he mumbled sullenly as they turned back to the path leading to their own bungalow.

“Yes you can.”

“Says who?”

“Says the woman who owns ya before God, that’s who.” Elaine retorted sharply and he sucked in a breath in appreciation of the vindictive mood still clinging to her. He should chastise her for her language but right now he didn’t wanna shift the mood. The racked gun at her side may have added to the thrill a little.

“You’re real pretty totin’ that thing around in just your kaftan.” he complimented

“Oh Naughty.” she breathed, a little blush flaring on her face. His simple little sweetnesses still getting to her far more than any of his wiles or spice.

“Really, just so pretty, sun’s gettin’ in your hair like it’s what it got up to do this mornin’. S’all gold.”

“Oh naughty, hush.” Elaine felt a fit of compliments coming on and was a little rusty at receiving them, truth be told.

“Why can’t I tell ya you’re pretty?” he laughed.

“You can.” she shook her head in amusement and tried to keep walking but his narration stalled her a few steps down the path.

“Your legs are gold too.” he was saying “Is this like your witchin’ hour or somethin? Do I gotta get up at ass crack a’dawn to catch ya like this?”

“I am in a kaftan, Elvis. And this is hawaii, hardly a new sight.” Elaine laughed herself.

“Yeah, and the sun sure goes right through it.” he was admiring the way her legs were shapely shadows under the cream linen, the illuminating ball of fire in the sky giving him a little show. “Is this how early I gotta get up to see this?”

“You’re sleep deprived, that’s why you’re so astounded by a woman in a kaftan, c’mon and I’ll help ya get back to sleep.”

“No, no I don’t wanna go inside yet.” he objected like a child in the middle of his construction when the dinner bell goes off, “There’s kids inside.”

“Yeah there are.” Elaine’s lip curled in wry amusement.

“Colonel gets ya alone but I don’t.” he wasn’t saying it accusingly, just a contemplative pout and Elaine shaded her eyes to watch his face as he stood in front of the glittering ocean, so bright its reflective rays were almost painful this early in the day. “Why’ve we got so many damn kids.” he joked, “Hardly see ya.”

“Aww well I’m here now.” she was touched and a little confused by this mood but she sauntered up to him, leaning the shotgun against a dune marker, and put her arms around him.

That seemed to be the right course of action as he gave her one of those soft little expressions that weren’t smiles so much as they were bashful little cheek scrunches of recognition. The extra cheeks on him made the expression almost intolerably cherubic. “You got up to blow his roof off but..” he can’t accuse her of not getting up to be with him, that was a damn lie, Elaine somehow managed a schedule that fit both the normal world’s waking hours and incorporated in his bizarre nocturnal clock, he very rarely was awake while she was asleep although the same couldn’t be said for him and this morning it nagged him, what little pleasant nothings he might be missing at seven in the morning.

“It don’t make a habit of it,” she reminded softly, “he just needed a talking to. It’s like spanking or putting a child to bed, never meant to disturb you and was gonna slip right back in next to you.”

“Yeah well, three gunshots kinda have the opposite effect, woman.” he shook her shoulders playfully.

“Well I think I got the message across.”

“What was the message?”

“I-“ Elaine paused to restructure her complaint into the mildest terms possible to preserve his sleepy temper and the peaceful scenery around them. “It’s kinda like you were saying with me! I miss you, the children miss you and it’s got nothing to do with movies and making money. You’re tired from the pills and from the starving and -lord, if I see you excuse yourself after one of my meals one more time just to hear you gaggin’ it right up, I’ll-“ she couldn’t quite finish that, wasn’t sure what she’d do but the most constructive thing she could think of after hearing it last night before bed was to visit the colonel and put some fear of God in him.

“How’d you-“ he scratched the back of his neck, sheepish.

“Oh heavens Elvis!” she pinched his cheek, “It’s the oldest one in the book for us women, when I didn’t shift the weight in two months after having a second set of twins it was recommended to me by all the other wives. Just because it’s old or common doesn't make it healthy and I’m just saying that if you’re unhappy and wanna fit in your old slacks then so be it, I’ll feed ya salads and cut down on the butter but there ain’t a single movie producer I’m gonna let stipulate or pay you to starve yourself. Sweet Jesus I- I know you like looking pretty but for god’s sake! You are! You are pretty, you’re Elvis Pretty Presley for the love of God and what are your children gonna think growin’ up watchin’ you treat yourself this way? It isn’t business, no! No! It isn’t! Hush up! It’s not! Business can be constructive or destructive and Christian business only builds up. Actin’ like a pagan by starvin’ your bodily temple that the Lord gave ya isn’t gonna sell us more movies.”

“You done?” he asked her after letting out a long whistle.

“No not quite,” she cooled her tone a little but stopped her hug to cross her arms and hug herself defensively, “Marlon told me they’ve been asking the same from him and he told them to go- well, you know. And they did. They’re still casting him in serious roles even if he’s not a breathing Adonis. They should be castin’ you in movies about human life not posin’ you like some cut out in a storyline.”

“Brando told ya this?”

“Yeah.” she said, “Because Brando’s manager does what he’s supposed to. I was just reminding the colonel that he is *your* manager which means he’s supposed to be your advocate not your damn jailor!”

“Sheesh alright,-“

“Elvis! It’s serious! I mean if Marlon-“

“God!- stop all this talkin’ about Brando, dammit!” Elvis bellowed and Elaine flushed bright red for an instant and it made him do a double take, thinking he saw a flicker of something new there but in an instant it was gone and -this was Laney, it couldn’t have been there in the first place, “Lord ya need to cool off.” he muttered.

He saw Elaine heave in a deep breath and cup her hand over her nose in that tell-tale way she had when she was regaining her control, started with the nose then the hand would go to the lips and then drop as she shook it out like casting out the damn emotions it collected before it fell to her side, diamond ring glinting in the morning light.

He wanted to say he missed her again, but that felt redundant. Instead he busied himself with observing how pretty she was and before he could voice that again, her eyes cleared and she smirked at him.

“Last one in is chicken.” she dared him before taking off over the sand, headed for the decently violent surf.

That was an old trick of hers, when shit became too real she just- played, instead. He felt it was for his benefit but maybe not, maybe it kept them both sane. He was as fond of the old trick as he had been the first time she pulled it in the studio back in ‘56. Elvis caught up to her about three paces from the surf and managed to swing her up in his arms and crash into the water together. After that first gasp inducing plunge and the salty sting up the nose, the water became a sparkling friend to them, and holding onto each other they surfaced and bobbed for a brief time, enjoying the sounds of the island waking up.

“So I guess I gotta get up at the crack a’dawn to do this with ya.” he griped again and pouted into her neck.

Elaine laughed and stroked the curling hair at the base of his neck, “If you want to escape the heat of the day and catch this lighting, then yes, yes you do. Otherwise, I’m here anytime you want me.”

“Why’d we make so many people!” his face puckered playfully for a moment, “I miss you!”

“I dunno, just sorta happened.” she fibbed herself and after a moment of disbelief he caught the joke and laughed too.

“I-I mean I try to be a good father-“

“You’re an excellent father .” Elaine butted in sternly.

“a-and part of that is bein’ with ‘em and I do try,” he laid his head back partially and let the water buoy him, “whatever you may say, I do try, but when I try I-I well, I let Daisy give me a haircut because she had her heart set on it and then when I get to the film set I’m told that was a ‘dis-reee-spectful’ thing to have done. I just can’t figure out how to manage what everyone wants from me. Just can’t figure it out.”

“Elvis, I don’t know why you’re caring so much what a half a dozen crusty old men say.” Elaine murmured, “Especially not when your wife finds your haircut rather fetchin’ and thinks the meat on your bones feel real nice when you’re up against me.”

“Oh?” Elvis tipped his head back up and seemed to register their close proximity for the first time. As if a switch had been flipped it seemed to be all his eyes could process, the material of her transparent kaftan clinging to what parts of her torso he held out of the water by his hold on her thighs and- Elaine thought it sweet how sometimes her man had a singular track in his mind and that was for sex, but just as singular could be some other focus and a near naked woman wouldn’t strike his as suggestive at such a time until he was made to notice. “Oh, Laney!” his eyes lit up as he surveyed his wife and then the coastline behind her, “Hell, baby, we’re alone, we’re genuinely alone!”

“I know.” her voice couldn’t keep from pitching low as she tightened her legs around his padded hips and watched in awed appreciation for the way his face’s coloring looked like it belonged in the blush splashed sea. “Seven am, for the lighting and for -the solitude.”

“Oh I like the lighting.” he muttered as if to himself as he swayed closer, eyes glued to her wettend lips. “And I like not havin’ all those damn people around. You get it don’t you?”

“Yes I do.”

“You tired of our friends?” he asked.

That could be trick question so she carefully shrugged it off, “Not really, you?”

“Not really just-“ Elvis pondered for a bit, his full cheeks squishing his mouth up and he looked the closest to his babyish self when he had married her than he had in ten years. “It’s just always so crazy ‘round us and I -I want more of this. Just not at seven am. I’ve got a naked woman in the ocean and I’m so sleepy I can’t even stay on track to get in her!” and he laughed ruefully.

“You can just kiss me?” she begged, “Kiss me and we’ll get you back to sleep.”

As if he knew what kind of his kisses she’d been missing most in this fast paced life -for Elvis Presley had many different kinds of kisses for Mrs. Presley- Elvis brushed her hair off her face with gentle care before thumbing at her throat, making her pulse jump from the swipe of his thumb before he brought his lips nearer and nearer as her own trembled and puckered in anticipation until after painful restraint those two plush pillows caressed her own. And stayed. And stayed.

Stayed until the screech of a car peeling out on the path they'd just abandoned made Elaine look up and she saw the Colonel’s conveyance speeding inland after breaking to view their little rendezvous.

“I’m sure we cut a rather scandalous figure in here.” she realized.

“Where’s the scandal when you’re married?” Elvis scoffed. “Besides, not even the paps want a picture of me when I’m this fuckin pudgy-“

“-oh not this again!” Elaine growled, kneading said pudge with vigor as if it would get her point through him better.

“Laney, you're sick in the head, we’ve established this already.” he replied, teasing yet not entirely unserious, “What appeals to you ain’t a rule for the rest of the world.”

“Ha.” she tossed her head back, “Let’s talk about trends then. The trend is towards beefier, hairier men, less of this pristine crooner image, more of the beefcake -Redford, Bogart, that sorta thing.” Learning her lesson on the beach, she omitted Brando from the list.

“Neither of those men are fat.”

“And neither are you.”

“But I don’t look like a star no more-“

“-oh, oh trust me,” she crowed, “if you got yourself a role where you could play a man, a real , raw, gritty man, theaters would be forced to change their seat cushions.”

Elvis scoffed again but asked again with helpless curiosity, “W-what kinda man? I mean, I’m playing real men, honey. Whadda ya even mean, Tink?”

Elaine kneaded his shoulders and pondered the earthy, sultry lines of his face and the heft of his chest beneath her hands, “A working man.” she admitted. “Salt of the earth working man. A man they show working. That’s what I mean.”

“Want me to play a mailman or somethin?” he rolled his eyes. “Real innovative, honey. I’ve been a race car driver, a-a-a Cowboy, I-I’m playin’ a pilot now-”

“I mean a hefty, strong working man who crawls out from under a sink he just fixed and lays a lonely housewife on her husband’s table and gives her something to keep her company at night.” Elaine rasped in his ear.

She felt the gust of his shocked gasp against her wet ear. “Hell, Laney,” he choked, “this-this somethin’ you wanna play?” he sounded scandalized and eager all at once.

“Always, when you’re ‘in this state’, my dear.” she murmured, thumping at his back significantly.

“Hell mama, I could lay you out good.” he swore, going back in for another searing, messy kiss.

“Is everything alright boss?” a yell from the shore startled them both and Elvis fumbled with his grip on Laney’s ass to lower her further in the water for modesty’s sake.

“You’re a lil late, Jerrah.” he snarked back at his friend who was investigating gunshots from fifteen minutes ago. “But yeah, yeah all’s fine.”

“Yeah, yeah ok,” Jerry hollered back, slowly backing away from the beach and up to the hedges, “I can see that. That it’s alright, I mean, like, I can see y’all are very alright. I mean, yeah ok, I’ll go.”

“Why’s he actin’ so prissy.” Elvis grumped but began to ease them both out of the surf anyway.

“You know why it is.” Elaine’s color heightened and Elvis’ grin grew wildly proud. “We were mauling each other a bit.”

“Oh you’re thinkin’ of those early days, hmm? Fresh back from Europe and alllll the world clutchin’ their pearls over how much we loved each other. Fuck ‘em.”

“Elvis!” Elaine prostested, amused yet aghast, “We gave them some cause!”

“Yeah buddy we did.” his tone held masculine admiration for the memories of leading Tink away to a darkened alcove in her pretty jewels and silks and taking her up against one of the ‘Cabana’s marble pillars. He’d had to move so slowly not to attract notice that it was practically cockwarming with a little jive to it.

“Don’t forget the boat.” she pointed out as if she knew he was hung up on another memory.

“Ooh, oh the boat.” he clutched his chest as if she’d brought up the fondest of memories and he was an old man reviewing the best in the twilight of his life, “God you looked so damn good in those photographs, Laney.”

“Elvis! It’s not a proud thing to be the first “indecent” photograph on the cover of Life Magazine.”

“We were fully clothed! They’d no idea what-“

“Yeah, yeah just a man casually playing hoola hoop behind his wife, I’m sure. That stupid captain’s hat,” she pretended to bemoan, “if you wouldn't have been wearing that I coulda resisted and we wouldn’t be on Life.”

“Five years ago, ‘bout time to give ‘em a refresher on the faces you make when lil Elvis is hittin’ the spot.” he snickered at his own joke as she swatted him towards the stairs to their bungalow.

“Five years is not sufficient to dim for me the awful talking to the colonel gave us that night.” Elaine retorted wryly and watched Elvis’ broad back shiver at the recollection before he jiggled up the steps in just his soaked silk night shorts. She stayed below for a moment just to enjoy the dripping, meaty sight of him.

“Lord mama, what was all that for? Was that you?” a wall of young voices hit them as they stepped into their house, five children in various stages of undress and sleepwear scattered around the front kitchen area and worked up by excitement to an ungodly level of energy this early in the morning.

“Yes, that was me.” she admitted cheerily and Elvis loved her for it. “Oh heavens, we forgot the gun-“

“I’ll get it mama!” Jesse was up out of his seat in a flash. “What’d you shoot with it?”

She kissed his forehead in a good morning greeting and soothed, “There was a varmint out back, kept me awake all night so I took care of it.”

“Oh, that’s real cool, mama.” Jesse’s eyes filled with admiration before he backed outta the screen door and flew down the path to get the gun in a blur of blue swim drawers.

“Cool.” Elaine repeated and tested the compliment on her tongue as Elvis laughed in a tired rumble that reverberated against her back as he clung to her like a sleepy child, one hand around her waist, his chin on her shoulder and his other hand busy stroking a clinging Rosalee’s head.

“Yeah, you’re real cool.” he insisted, his voice warbling.

“Outta sight.” Daisy offered from her place on the floor amidst a pile of crayons.

“Mhmm!” Elvis grunted, all gritty and revved up in her ear and she shuddered from something besides her wet kaftan.

“Alright, alright thanks.“ she batted the air like she could knock the compliments down that way, while trying to spin in Elvis’ hold. “Your daddy needs his sleep. Woke him up with all that racket, y’all be good and I’ll be back to fix food. C’mon Mopey, let’s get ya tucked in.”

“But Jack’s in our damn bed!” Elvis bawled.

“Not for long! He’ll be up for breakfast, come on baby, let me tuck ya in.”

“Can’t tuck me in the way I need when he’s there.” Elvis grumped.

“Oooooooh.” Elaine drew it out in understanding before turning back round to address their sleepy little audience gathered round the kitchen table, “Y’all get the flour and maple syrup out for me, your silly daddy dunked us in the ocean so we’ve gotta shower off. I’ll be back.”

“I know how to make pancakes mama!” Ella piped up, suddenly very awake.

“Alrighty then, pancakes it is.” Elaine smirked and saluted her before leading Elvis into the adjacent master bedroom.

“You’re showering with daddy?” Jack grumped from their bed, his stuffed whale toy clutched and his blonde hair scattered across the pillow, “I need a drink, mommy.”

“There’s this great thing called a water faucet in the kitchen, son.” Elvis snarked, now he was the one tugging Elaine.

“Well I can-“ Elaine began before finishing with a little scream as Elvis hauled her bodily into the bathroom with him.

“S’real bad to let the salt stay in your hair for long, Laney, you know this.” he tsked before addressing Jack as he slid the door closed, “Mornin’ Trouble, hope that pilla kept ya good company.”

“You’re awful.” Elaine snickered behind him as she adjusted the faucets. “Having a rivalry with your own son!”

“You like gettin’ fought over, don’t you even try to deny it.” he murmured, coming up behind her to kiss her neck -and help her remove her kaftan. “And I can dance better than him. So it’s a clear choice, lil mama.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t give me half the trouble you do.” she grinned, making fun of his nickname for the poor kid.

“You’d be bored to death without it.” he growled and it sent sparks down her spine as his damp and slippery silk shorts rubbed against her butt.

There was a knock at the door. Elvis quickly left off his romancing and bodily picked up Elaine and set her behind the shower curtain in the steaming bath.

“What?” he asked of Jack, because of course it was Jack.

“You’re not in yet.”

“Thanks t’you,” Elvis laughed, “now what?”

“My whale wants to go swimming with you.” he held up his fuzzy sea creature.

Elvis took a very nasally breath and held it, “Jack, there’s a whole goddamn ocea-“

“Elvis!” came a rebuke from behind the curtain and only the thought of Elaine naked and slippery back there gave him fortitude to begin again, although in a mockingly patient voice:

“Jack, there’s an entire ocean out there for you and your whale to swim in. He swam yesterday and I’m sure mama’s gonna take ya this afternoon. Now go eat Ella’s pancakes. Good mornin’.” and he shut the door.

He tore into the shower so fast he didn’t even shuck his swim trunks, spurred by the image of Elaine lazily wetting her hair under the spray. She looked at him and at his dripping silk shorts and the outline of little Elvis poking needily out the waistband and bit her lip to suppress a grin. It was pretty gratifying to be so wanted.

“Did you lock the door?” she asked breezily and saw the exhaustion cloud his face once more.

“No.” he admitted and stared at the shower curtain while contemplating the door beyond it, “Nope, and if he comes in, it’s on him what he sees.”

“The kid has seen a lot and it hasn’t deterred him yet.” she laughed.

Elvis still stared at the curtain, “Yeah, maybe we should take him to see someone ‘bout that.”

“Oh hush,” Elaine smacked his belly, “couldn’t be hereditary or anything, could it?” she joked.

“I did not cockblock my father at every goddman opportunity!” he railed, playfully backing her into the tiled wall.

“Oh?” Elaine grinned, “That’s not how Vernon recalls it.”

“Vernon’s a bastard!” Six years after Jack’s birth and Elvis was still aggrieved by the suggestion that his doppleganger was anything like him. “Just makes that shit up to justify remarryin’ so fast, actin’ like mama weren’t the best thing that ever happened to his sorry a-“

“I know, I know.” Elaine soothed, regretting this line of conflict. “Just teasing.”

“Don’t tease.” he begged, kissing her under the spray, “I’m tired and I don’t want it.”

“Ok.” she assured, returning his smooches, “No teasing it is then. C’mon now, help me, step outta of them.” she kneeled under the fall of water and peeled away his shorts.

It was a gift every time, pulling the fabric away to see her man and that alluring place that all his costumes and paraphernalia teased but only she got to see at the end of it all. Those deep and skimpy tan lines that marked her territory versus the rest of him that the world saw, like a sovereign country’s borders. Thighs thicker than usual and soft brown skin stretching over his fuller belly, that dark thatch of hair so fastidiously trimmed and leaky lil Elvis collecting shower droplets on his bubblegum pink head. She shifted on her knees and licked her lips, so impatient to taste him she had to force herself to finish the task of untangling his shorts from his feet.

“Think he’s gone?” she asked Elvis as he stroked back her hair in anticipation, spreading his feet to get a stance that didn’t make him knock his knees and crumple at the first throat tickle she gave him.

“Awful quiet.” he shrugged, a whimper caught in his throat as Elaine shifted closer on the hard tile and peppered his stomach with kisses, kneading those handles of his on his fleshy hips and nuzzling the little crease he’d begun to show where he’d once been cut and firm. Her tongue darted out and traced those lines lovingly and the way she held him so firmly to her attentions and the sweet arch of her back beneath the spray convinced him to view such things a little gentler, a little less obnoxious while his Tink’s mouth was worshiping them so gently.

Down she went, lovingly nuzzling and licking a path across his creases and up his thighs, nosing as his balls and rubbing her cheek against him before opening her mouth and letting Elvis guide his throbbing length onto her tongue. He clasped her head and started a rhythm, a gentle and steady pump to the back of her throat which she knew by heart, and when the cadence had been perfected he let her be and grabbed the shampoo and lathered his own hair before tipping his head back in the water and washing the suds out. Then he poured out a dollop again and, rubbing it between his hands, began to massage it through her locks, lovingly swiping any run-off away from her eyes and swirling hypnotizing little circles into her scalp.

That made her moan. It sent the damndest spark to his very toes and he thrust in harder, hissing and smiling down at her. She was smiling back -around a mouthful of cock. And she looked so pretty doing it, there wasn’t a sweeter or lovelier face to be found when she was hollowing her cheeks and stretching her lips and batting her sparkly eyes. Savoring the feel of a man’s meaty weight in her mouth, letting him gag her with aplomb. The suds squished under his grasp as lewdly as the slurping sounds Elaine made when her gasps grew short and she tried to sneak in a breath or two between his thrusts.

“Hell laney, you’re prettier than you ever been.” he realized with his chest fit to burst from love for her, her and the way she massaged his thick sides and the way she always smiled when sucking cock. The way she blew the Colonel's roof off over a point of honor, “How’d I ever get so lucky.” he muttered, realizing suddenly that she reminded him of those early days, before the babies -any of the babies- back when she was toned and lanky and bare faced. She had the prettiest smattering of freckles when her makeup was gone, he swiped the shower spray from off them.

She looked a girl again, the girl who gave herself to him for safe keeping.

She was trailing one hand down her stomach, flat and firm again, and down and down till she was playing with herself, he could tell by the way her arm moved in time with her head. He rubbed at her scalp again.

Another moan. His toes curl. His spine ran like hot lava.

It had been three years since…a baby. That would account for the toned and lean look, he had a sudden epiphany. Felt a fool for it immediately after.

It maybe wasn’t what they wanted but something a little feral and fond flooded his chest at this old Tink. Something told him to marvel at her, marvel at her like he had in her soaked kaftan at the beach. He had a beautiful wife. Damn stunning and he just -he didn’t see her enough, he felt. Odd, that.

“Laney, laney, hold up.” Elvis tapped her jaw and pulled her off him, chuckling as she wheezed in a breath, spit and precum sputtering thick and shiny off her lips and caught herself against the slick tile wall as if she had sparks in her eyes.

“What baby?” she gasped with eagerness, playing with the suds on her breasts and looking up at him coyley, knowing that tone meant her man had a notion up his sleeve. Probably a dirty one.

“I-I-I w-wanna, I-I wanna see you.” he begged and when she still looked lost he clarified, “I w-w-wanna w-watch ya p-play wi’yeself.”

Elaine’s face flushed crimson in pleased gratification at his adoring tone and with one last look of skepticism at his bobbing and visibly pulsing cock, asked with soft eagerness, “How’d’ya want me, daddy?”

Oh lord, it had been awhile since they played this game and his heart skipped a beat in anticipation. “Want ya to lay down on the tile, baby,” he instructed and watched as she sank back on her haunches without argument, slowly spreading her legs and scooting down until she was laying amongst the swirling suds, “Now, I-I-I w-want ya to spread your legs, baby, nice and wide f’me.”

Elaine did as asked, her hair swirling out in the eddy of water, her belly a canvass of sprinkles, letting her right foot push into the encroaching shower curtain a little, feeling a draft of the cold outside air rush in. “Like this?” she asked, her mouth dry from the sight of his bulk standing in a straddle above her.

“Jus’ like that.” he nodded down at her, his eyes darting all across her beautiful shiny self as the spray pelted down on her after breaking across his body, “Now this next part’s important to get right, Tink. Ya gonna be a good widdle bitty f’me, ain’t ya?”

“Yes daddy, I’d do anything for you, anything at all!” her voice rose.

“Then you spread those pretty pussy lips for me,” Elvis directed, “wanna see your itty bitty rosebud, gonna let the water do the teasin’ for us. Wanna see ya cum from the drip.”

Elaine did as she was told and stretched her labia, sucking in a breath as a small jet of water landed on her teased vagina. “Ooh, l-like this?” she hoped, sucking at her lip, trying to get on top of the teasing sensation.

“Fuuuck yeah, oh fuck, ‘xactly like that.” Elvis’ eyes were glued to her wobbling little petals, battered beneath the shower stream as he began to strip his cock with cruel, tight jerks of his wrist. Elaine nuzzled his ankle and glued her own eyes to his heavy sack, swinging above her in perfect view as it tightened up, guarded by those delicious, meaty thighs and her mouth hung open in craving. A drop of water ran off his heavy balls and landed on her forehead. “Oh Laney, you’re just perfect honey, jus’ perfect.” he praised. “It feel good?”

She was pretty sure if they kept this up he’d be spouting down on her face in a matter of seconds. “Yeah, it really does.” She craned her head back and stuck her tongue out in optimism.

—————-

Back in the kitchen a disgruntled Jack wandered into the little gathering of his siblings who were eagerly dishing out advice and praise to Ella as she capably flipped decently fluffy pancakes and stacked them onto a steaming plate.

“There, that should do for a start.” she declared and even Jesse and his ever growing appetite assented as he set the kitchen table with forks.

“Rosalee.” Jack sidled up to the auburn haired little girl trying to make a swan out of the paper towel Jesse had laid down as her napkin.

“Yeah, Jack?”

“Daddy said he’s gonna take us swimmin’.” he lied with the most guileless tone, “You wanna come?”

It was a calculated move, and a stunt Jack had pulled often to back up his own devices regarding monopolizing Elaine.

Rosalee went nowhere without her father and everywhere that her father did go, she went. And Jack knew this. She had meltdowns when she was escorted off sets and had meltdowns when she arrived at sets to find him holding his young co-stars instead of her. Jealous and sensitive, there was nothing more precious to her than time with daddy and at this news of an impromptu frolic, Rosalee clambered off her barstool so quickly she nearly split her head open.

“What are you up to, Jacky?” Nine years old with a head twice older, Jesse was onto him and stared his towheaded brother down with slanted gray eyes, “How is it daddy’s takin’ ya to the ocean when he’s washing the ocean off him as we speak? Don’t sound like somethin’ he’d do before going back. Waste a’time.”

“I’m just bearin’ the news.” Jack held up his hands, “It’s what he done told me.”

“But daddy’s gotta sleep, Jack!” Ella protested, always so keenly aware of her father’s irregularities and fiercely protective of his health.

“Ooooh leave off, he promised!” Rosalee whooped in joy and tore back towards the master bedroom with a maniacally gleeful Jack following on her heels.

Ella dropped the pancake plate onto the tabletop with a thump and Daisy immediately grabbed her fork and skewered four at once.

“Where y’all goin’?” Jesse cried out after trying to get a pancake of his own, abandoning it in favor of running down his two rogue little siblings who were about to start banging at the bathroom door like they had a death wish.

——————

Inside the shower Elvis felt his climax hit him like a freight train and bracing himself with one hand on the tiled wall, he watched with flitting eyes as his thick ropes of come joined the water shower to spatter across Laney’s chest and then down to the pattering of the stream against her pink house, then back up again. His thighs quaked and his belly shook and he kept stripping himself as wave after wave took over him from the sight of her down there, looking up at him with a pleasured grimace as the jetstream wiggled her nub. She had to be close, he could tell from the lines on her forehead and he managed to lift his foot and press it gently on her lower belly, jostling her womb like he did with his hand when he was inside. Her toes curled.

“Ya almost there, ain’t ya pretty girl?” he gasped, his own toes curling as lil Elvis didn’t seem content to flag after one shot alone, still standing stiff and interested in the proceedings below him. Elvis’ hand started to cramp.

“Elvis-“ her pretty pink tongue came out and touched her upper lip, her breasts jiggling with every big heave of breath.

Just then a round of knocks sounded on the door and if Elvis was any judge of distance -and he was a good one- he’d wager they were coming from someone about three feet off the ground and blonde as satan himself. “Not yet!” he barked, well past being patient.

“Elvis!” Elaine fretted below him, so close her eyes looked scared from desire. “I’m -“

“That’s it, that’s it you just take your time and feel it, sugar pie, that’s it.” he cooed to her and stepped over her, turning round in between her legs and running his foot further down, pressing on her little mound and after observing her hesitant moan, slipped his big toe along her soft seam.

The way her legs snapped closed like a trap spurred him on, as did her happy gasp as she thrashed and gripped at her chest like she was trying to hurt herself with the squeeze. He wiggled his toe in further, snagging her lil hole and plunging in, his leg shimmying in that controlled way he’d perfected on stage and she shrieked, happily, he was sure, except Jack didn’t know that-

“Mama I know you’re in there!” He demanded from behind the door, driven to outrage by neglect.

Laney was gorgeous when she was coming, and while often a moaner in the moments leading up to it -when propriety allowed- she was a silent screamer in the throes of it. Elvis kept up the merciless jimmying of his leg all the way through it and watched with distinct enjoyment a sight he rarely got to see from this removed vantage point. Caught in the vice grip of pleasure Elaine couldn’t humor her little brat any more than she could call on Jesus for help and Elvis just smirked down at her evilly as he kept the stimulation up. Kept it up until he was getting kicked in the gut by an overwhelmed wife.

The faucet stabbed his back as he stumbled backwards, laughing those hiccuping laughs of his and jostling his throbbing balls in one hand as Elaine cupped her mouth and tried to get her breath back. “You ok?” Elvis giggled as he knelt down and crawled over her to cup her wet cheek and bring her back down to earth. She was giggling herself, unable to voice anything but giving him a thumbs up to assure she was ok. He smooched her cheek vigorously.

“You’re still-“ she tried to form a full sentence but couldn’t.

“Those diet pills.” he whispered in explanation, gingerly still stroking his hard cock but over-sensitive cock. “It won’t go down, Laney.” he whined a little as he humped her slick belly, conscious that this was a lil pathetic to do on the shower floor but this is what he missed, moments like these where they could trust each other with all of it. He couldn’t stop himself now just to make it a little less animalistic, a little less needy. Truth was he needed her terribly and he didn’t mind her knowing.

Elaine’s hands came up and clung to the backs of his meaty thighs, as high as she could reach over his hips and she begged in a hoarse whisper that underscored the way her eyes were heavy and half mast “Sit, please, sit on my face, Daddy. Wanna taste you, I’ll get ya drained.”

She’d seen the chafed markings on her little friend from all the tucking and taping the wardrobe department had put him through, she’d tended to them with Vaseline and kissed the booboos goodnight. From the way she had her mouth open and her chin tipped back -Elvis knew what his wife wanted and with a weak moan he crawled over her again and at her insistent hands, turned back around till they faced the same way.

69ing he’d heard it called from a co-star. A filthy sorta indulgence that his ingenious wife had discovered on her own without the benefit of co-star gossip or ‘new wife’ magazines. “Gosh yes, yes that’s it, smother me baby, you're a hunk like this you know?” She gushed, gripping his hips firmly.

“Mama?” got yelled through the door along with another knock and a small racket as if there were reinforcements approaching -wether for Elvis’ cause or Jack’s, was yet to be seen.

“Go eat your pancakes!” Elvis hollered over the noise of shower spray.

“I need mama to cut them up!” Trouble hollered right back and Elvis looked down to see his fair temptress waiver at the sound of her son’s dire plight.

“Oh no, no you don’t, don’t even think it.” Elvis corrected her as he settled over her, a hefty thigh on each side of her face trapping her where he needed her, hard tile and grout lines digging at his knees. He patted at her belly and rubbed her hips as he stared ahead at the wall and slowly, almost apologetically, lowered his package over her sweet face. One ball slotted into her waiting mouth perfectly, aided by her eager little hands as she snuggled it onto her waiting tongue and with a contented grunt he muttered, “All you need to think about right now, my lil Tinkerbell, is how full and stuffed your lil mouth is with daddy’s sugar plums, how nice he is to give ya a treat n’how good you’re lil mouth is gonna make daddy feel, so good I just might kiss your lil kitty in thanks.”

Laney always got a little woozy when he didn’t give her a choice, told him it made her feel like goo inside and like she was a baby again -not in a bad way, mind. She loved it and he capitalized on it on occasions like this. After years together he’d come to understand she enjoyed a little sternness so long as he mixed it with affirmations and gentleness after. Something his younger and randy self may have been pitifully short on in his eagerness to sample her. So Elvis found himself able to squash the shame of teabagging his wife in the shower rather speedily, the obvious and untampered joy she took in the act helping him, as well as the feel of her rolling the damn things, one at a time due to size, in her mouth like his nuts were a Listerine swish.

How someone could enjoy gargling ballsack or having their noses smashed to an asshole was a little beyond Elvis, but when he said as much to her, Tink had told him she didn’t get how he could eat bloody pussy for hours.

After arguing this they had to call a truce. No accounting for taste. And since then, as a treat, Laney gets to suck his balls with the only addendum being she can’t lick his ass.

Never stops her from kneading it though, digging at the plain globes with her nails and pulling it apart -for his sanity’s sake he likes to assume she spreads it so she can get some air down there. He wishes he didn’t like that feeling as much as he does but hunched over her in the shower he has to admit the stretch of it feels rather good, combined with her suckling his sack. Little Elvis begins to pulse like he gets the memo. The better it gets, the greater the sensation becomes, the more he moans and shifts and bends double till he’s biting her thigh to keep quiet. In doing so he stops sheltering her little house from the spray with his shoulders, and with malevolent delight, he notices her jerk from the water jet.

It’s fun to watch from down here, her pretty pink petals getting battered and he adds his tongue into the mix on occasion and she thrashes and screams around his balls and he keeps his thighs locked against her cheeks, muffling it almost completely. He’s missed this, not just the filthy want for each other but -but the selfishness to do it. Sure he had been a cad in their earlier marriage, using her more like an animated glory hole than a cherished child of God, but they’d both trade the exhausted lassitude of the past year for that rigorous idiocy in a heartbeat. There’s gotta be some middle ground. He just can’t come up with the right balance with Tink mouthing at his balls like a feral harmonica player tearing up the riff to Orange Blossom Special.

“Daddy! Daddy when are you takin’ us swimmin?” That’s Rosalee’s voice, coming through the door and Elvis’ heart thuds to a stop for a moment in complete confusion as to why his lil pet expects that of him this morning, “I’ve been waitin’ patiently! Please daddy!”

She’s been waiting, by the door, this whole damn time while Jack’s been doing his regular, moronic behavior. She has been good. And somehow there’s been a mix up. He’s had little enough time to play with the kids on this set and Rosalee always takes that absence the hardest. The tile is unyielding beneath his knees and his resolve waivers.

“Oh sweetie I-I-“ he brings his fist up to his mouth to try to steady his wrecked voice, “sweetie I didn’t say nothin about that, did I?”

Elaine, callous succubus that she is, ignores his fatherly plight and begins to strip the base of little Elvis like it’s gonna spurt pixie dust for her. He falls down a little more in his kneeling posture from the intensity of it, forehead banging against her shin as he claws at the slippery grout lines.

“Jack said you promised to take us swimmin!” Rosalee sounds close to tears and it makes Elvis plan on wringing Jack’s little neck while the desperate need to cum rattles in Elvis' head until he’s humping Elaine’s mouth like a maniac. She digs in harder and he hides a sob as a cough.

Angrily he peels her pussy wider and let’s the jets sting her little nub, locking his legs resolutely against her cries until he sees a stream going in the opposite direction of the shower flow, a pretty little arc of fluid straight from her pussy and if it weren’t so diluted by the shower he’d know it tastes perfectly salty sweet. Satisfied with his revenge he covers her again with his back and lays his face on the tile between her legs, trusting her to either let him get up and console his poor daughter or else finish him fast.

Going with the first option becomes entirely necessary when he hears the door crack open and a cold gust of air rustles the shower curtain.

Panic gives Elvis’ voice a thunderous edge as he shouts:“The hell are you doin’? Don’t you dare open the curtain, don’t do it! Do not!”

“Oh daddy please don’t hit me!” Rosalee wails this idiotic plea like it’s a line from some dramatic afternoon Soap Opera, and Elvis is quite sure that’s where she learned it.

“Oh, s-s-stop the d-d-dramatics!” he begs, half to his children and half to Laney who seems convinced he can come from ball sucking alone, while he’s quite sure he can’t today.

“You promised!” Rosalee continues crying, very near the shower but not touching the curtain.

“Jack!” Elvis' voice thunders shakily.

“Yes Elvis?” the kid replies very calmly from the sink area.

“G-get out! Both of ya- get out.”

“I just wanted to take a bath with you!” Rosalee stays from sheer horror at having provoked such temper from her ever-loving father, “I’m sorry daddy! I-I-I didn’t mean to make you mad, honest I didn’t! Jack said-“

“Guys, what the- come on, get out!” That’s Jesse’s beautiful voice resounding in the bathroom, sounding like a general at nine years old and Elvis is gonna have to buy the kid another motorcycle for always being such a swell fella in times of need.

“But Daddy promised to take us swimming-“

“Guys out!” Jesse grabs ahold of Jack’s tshirt and starts tugging.

“But swimming-“

“Only Mommy’s and Daddy’s swim in showers, sometimes-“ Jesse insists.

“I just came to tell mama that Ella has caught the stove on fire-“

“Jack, liars go to hell.” Jesse reminds.

Elvis realizes then that maybe his thighs are squishing all the sound from Laney’s hearing and that perhaps she’s just coasting while enjoying her favorite hobby, unaware of exactly how nuts it’s gotten in here. Nuts was a bad word for it but- he starts to pull himself off her only to feel her teeth snap in protest at the thin base of his scrotum.

He can’t help his yelped,

“Laney!” that in turn spurs Jesse onto a frantic beg,

“Kids come on! Really, we need to evacuate now!” The poor boy sounds frantic and Elvis wishes he had the moral fiber to get off his wife’s face this close to the finish line. But he doesn’t, not for Jack, not even for Rosalee and any other sweet idiot spawn who didn’t obey the closed door policy.

This isn’t the first time.

Hovering as he is, balls clamped in a toothy prison, it’s like Elaine finally hears it all, processes her children and their proximity, finally gets it without the soundproof padding of Elvis’ thighs. She responds accordingly. Instead of abandoning their tryst as he expected, like a ninja geisha, she simultaneously grabs his cock and bends him backwards between his cheeks into her mouth, while raising her foot for Elvis to muffle his impending scream around some perfectly manicured toes.

To a chorus of wailing youngsters and one very admanet eldest son who sounds like a shell-shocked veteran encouraging the green troops to pull back, Elvis feels the persuasive suction of Laney’s mouth around his throbbing head, a flick or five to his weeping slit and he’s giving into her efforts, biting her toe to keep silent and smacking at the shower curtain in an attempt to stifle the need to move with his release.

Elvis shakes to the floor with an exhausted splat as his orgasmic loss of reality gives him a blissful five seconds of escapism where he lays, cheek down in the swirling shower drain, thanking Jesus and God and the Holy Spirit for his wife.

Elaine surfaces from beneath him with the invigorated gusto of a woman satisfied with her work, pulling herself out from beneath her man’s inert form only to be hit by a toy whale that’s been hurled over the curtain and onto her wet head -a last little defiance by a growling Jack who is getting tugged out by Jesse. An impressive throw, one Elvis is responsible for helping Jack perfect with the football many a summer’s night on Graceland’s lawn.

“Oh you silly thing!” she shouts with a laugh, “If any of you sprites are still in here, make yourselves useful, hand me those towels on the countertop.” she adds as she leans over Elvis, straddling him to turn off the tap, sticking just her hand out the curtain and making grabby motions with her fingers till the feel of fuzzy cotton meets it. “Thanks, sweets.”

“Why’re you so short mama?” Rosalee’s voice asks and Elvis groans beneath her on the floor.

“Cause I’ve been playing with sea creatures.” she explains without missing a beat and Elvis’ slick back starts heaving beneath her from suppressing his laughter.

“Oh.” Rosalee accepts it with a sniffle, having spent many hours in the tub or hot tub on her knees, the better to help her toys swim around.

Elvis rolls over beneath Elaine’s straddle and smiles at her with eyes still crossed from going to the grown man’s neverland. “Alright Rosalee, you run on now we’ll be out in just a minute. Promise.” he speaks up.

“And swimming?” she begs as she retreats.

“Well, uh, we’ll talk about that over breakfast.”

Elaine makes a sad face at the realization he’s not going to let himself go back to bed after causing so much heartache in their little people. “S’ok.” he insists, reading her mind and patting her thighs.

Hearing the latch click and the silence of privacy restored, Elvis clasps her by her neck and brings her face down to his, kissing her passionately, licking at her tongue and the traces of his spend on it. “You sure know how to love a man, Tink.” he murmurs, clinging to her warm body as the shower tile turns cold.

“All I ever wanted was to learn to be the best for ya.” she whispers, sweet and gentle.

“Born the best.” he insists, “The rest was just…a bonus.”

She brings the towels she’s been balancing out of the wet, onto his chest, and sitting up they rub each other dry, soft smiles and drowsy affection making them clumsy and open.

They stagger upright together and Elvis throws his towel around her and she throws hers around him and they’re cocooned in terry cloth this way, standing in the dripping shower, snuggled together and nipping at each other’s lips.

“How’s my lil friend.” she asks, sneaking a hand between them in the damp warmth of their burrow and cupping his harmless, shrunk little appendage.

“He’s good, he’s real good.” Elvis giggles, his cheeks turning pink, “Gentle with him now, he got wrung out by a cruel, lecherous gal.”

“He sure did.” Elaine grunts satisfactorily and it’s the most masculine sorta sound Elvis has ever heard her make, full of smugness and a dirty, gritty edge he can’t quite believe came out of his woman, his woman who is so polished and elegant most times. As if to underscore this departure from demure normality and diminish it all at once, Elvis feels her hand move again beneath the towel before an electrifying sting slices up his spine and down his leg from his freshly smacked ass.

“Laney!” he cries again, utterly aghast and pink as a baby and she can’t stand it anymore, standing on tippy toes to neck him some more, vigeorusly smashing her lips to his as she yanks the shower curtain open with her free hand

She steps out while Elvis lingers and bends down to retrieve Jack’s sodden whale plushie. He may wring the poor creature out more violently than necessary but it makes his wife titter.

“God! - I love you.” she insists, surveying her man as he steps out, his wet hair dripping in a boyish mop down his forehead and his lips kissed and bitten puffy pink and his cheeks bunched in a grin despite their bashful blush and the soft accumulation of fluff and good living filling out his chest and swelling his belly just that little bit. “Sometimes I think it’s gonna kill me, gettin’ to enjoy you, getting to look at you so much. Feels indulgent somehow, like you oughta be rationed to a gal, the same way you’re dosed out to your fans in little bits, one movie a time.” she laughs at her own silliness and he shakes his head shyly as he tucks his towel into a covering around his waist. “One day they’ll find me keeled over from palpitations brought on by starin’ too long.”

“That’s what the obituary’ll say,” Elvis snarks, “but you and I’ll know the truth of the matter, that you’re a lil squirrel who likes her nuts so much she don’t take time to breathe. Mark my words, that’s how you’ll go if you keep this appetite up.”

“Then I hope they accuse ya of manslaughter, right after.” Laney grins and he stalls with his comb in hand, raised to coiff his hair back, waiting for the punchline, “Because I don’t wanna be up there without you for too long.”

“Laney!” he repeats for the upteenth time this morning, but this time it’s hushed and his lower lip wobbles with emotion and his eyes swim, touched by the sentiment. Clearing his throat he adds, “I still wanna uh, sometime -yeah, uh sometime do that thing you were t-t-talking about in the w-water.”

She makes a puzzled face as she wiggles into a tiny pair of shorts Elvis bought her last month. She’s fit as hell, and he’s envious of it, and has to admit Jack’s overdue weening did serve one purpose at least, it thinned her out like nothin’ else coulda.

“Play handyman or-or whatever.” he blushes and turns his face away as he hangs up his towel, aware that they haven’t the time to linger over this with the kitchen possibly on fire and his children eager for a swim. “Ya recall? -what you were sayin’? Me uh, playin’ a handyman or plumber or, uh, whatever. Come visit ya.”

“Oooh that,” she goads playfully wrapping her arms around his belly once more, chin in his shoulder blades, “you wanna swing by Graceland and fix a pipe or two, find the rich and spoiled Mrs. Presley wasting away in her gold cage, rich but wanting in the worst ways? Hmm?” she runs her finger down the shell of his ear and it’s flaming hot to her touch, he must be red as her nails in the face, “Wanna take her on the table and give her what her posh movie star husband can’t? Wanna do that, huh Naughty?”

“God y-yes.” he stutters, head thunking against the wall in desperation at the mere

concept.

“Wanna make a movie of it,” she whispers into his ear, “like those ones Thumper and I made? Wanna make a movie so Elvis Presley has to sit and watch it later, hmm? Watch his wife get taken by a workin’ man?”

“Nghhh…” he growls smacking the wall, overwhelmed by memories and prospects.

“I see, well, that’s settled then.” Elaine murmurs before stepping away from their embrace, flicking his bare butt one last time as she laughs, “Only you would get the hots for cuckolding yourself.”

“Anything involving rearrangin’ your guts on a table gets me hot.” he mumbles defensively and Elaine smirkes at him with a promise in her eyes as she makes her way past him. He snags her back to him briefly by a finger in her back pocket, “Hey you,” he says adently with his hand cupping her jaw, “I love you too. I love you somethin’ fierce.”

~~~~~

“Daisy!” Jack’s voice warbled with betrayal as he entered the kitchen, “You didn’t!”

“Daisy!” Ella chimed in, whirling around from the stove to survey the kitchen table and her demolished stack of pancakes, “There was enough there to feed uncle Jerry and us besides!” she cried out as her little sister swallowed down the last of her syrupy goodness with a shrug,

“Oh, oh Daisy, oh my, that’s gonna -that’s gonna bite ya later.” Jesse sighed as he pulled up a chair and pushed around his abandoned, now cold and half eaten single pancake on his plate. “Your stomach’s gonna kill ya, Mae Mae.” he explained to a remorseless Daisy Mae.

“I was hungry.” she defends as Rosalee sullenly takes a seat next to her twin, “Sorry Rosalee, I shoulda saved one for ya.” she conceded but Rosalee shook her head.

“I don’t feel like eatin’ anything.” Rosalee moped.

“Why not?” Ella turned again from the stove, affronted for the reputation of her irresistible pancakes. “I’ll put blueberries in them and everything for ya!”

“I’m not hungry!” Rosalee repeated close to tears and her little chestnut bob swayed with her head shake.

“What happened to you?” Daisy grunted.

“Daddy got mad at me.” she whimpered.

“No he didn’t.” Jesse sighs, settling Jack into a seat by the scruff of his t-shirt, “He’d just told y’all not to come in and you disobeyed. He ain’t mad. He’ll be right as rain in a minute, hold tight.”

“He sounded mad! He sounded sad!” Rosalee’s tone grew in emphasis.

Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at his empty plate as Rosalee’s whimpers grew from just that to outright crying. “No, no look it’s-“ he glanced over at the stove to his twin who was industriously cooking another batch but not fast enough to circumvent Rosalee’ meltdown, “it’s like, when we all used to sleep in the big bed,” he chose his words carefully for optimal grief assuagement, “you know how some mornings you thought daddy was cryin’?”

“Yeah.” her little voice was garbled by snot.

“Yeah but he wasn’t, was he?” Jesse pressed his point, “He was just tryin’ to hold in his laughs so he didn’t wake you, while mama or Ella was ticklin’ him.”

“Yeah.” Rosalee cracks a small smile.

“S’like that.” Jesse reminded, “He ain’t sad. You ‘member how he’d start bawling when we started ticklin’ too?”

“Yeah.” Jack smiled in reminiscence of mornings when they’d all pile on top of Elvis and tickle him while Mama held his shoulders down. “But I know you don’t tickle people in the shower.” Jack fired back with six year old conviction, “Elvis hisself told me it wasn’t safe.”

Before Jesse was forced to choose between explaining further or else sullying his daddy’s reputation for safety ethics in the shower -or in general- the man himself and Mama breezed through the door, hair wet and as smartly dressed as always.

“Alright, alright, kids what’s groovin’ huh?” Elvis barreled in like his kitchen was his stage and topics of tickling and sadness were shelved, much to Jesse’s watery eyed relief, though he couldn’t quite meet his mama’s eyes when she scootched past him with a kiss to his head on her way to the sink. “Hey you I’ve got a present for you.” Elvis addressed Jack before plopping a very sudden and deformed whale plushie on the boy’s plate.

“Thanks a lot Elvis.” Jack muttered.

“Look on the bright side Trouble,” Elvis laughed while reaching down Jack’s back to grab a handful of his jean’s waistband, “all ya had to do was wait fifteen minutes and now mama’s got your glass o’water and your pancakes’ll be cut in triangles. Imagine that, patience.” and with that laughing admonition Elvis hefted Jack out of his chair by his waistband and proceeded to jostle his second born son in the age old manner often referred to as a wedgie. It even made Rosalee laugh and Jack hiccup from something they all suspected was enjoyment, although the kid would never admit it. “Alright, everyone alive and well? No fires?” He took stock of the place and found it comparatively tidy -little wonder as the kids didn’t have time to wreck anything, too busy knocking on his door. “Ella Bug those smell amazing and- Daisy, why’re you actin’ put out?”

“M’fine.” his daughter protested even as her face was folded into the identical sorta scowl that sold him a lotta records back in the early days.

“Is everyone mad at me?” he balked.

“No, she just ate fifty pancakes while everyone else was… busy.” Jesse cleared his throat. “Should enter her in a contest.”

“Oh Daisy, no!” Elaine swiped back her black curls and knelt by her, “Is your belly hurting?”

“Startin’ to.” Daisy was forced to admit through clenched teeth.

“Lordy, Mae Mae, that’s impressive,” Elvis murmured as he took his seat and, in a well worn routine, opened his arms and lap in welcome to a still sniffling Rosalee who catapulted into him, “what got into you?” he marveled as he tucked Rosalee into a snuggle and peppered her now glowing face with kisses.

“They were very good.” Daisy insisted and Ella beamed with pride over the stack of freshly made ones she carried to the table.

“Bet they were.” Elvis praised, tongue poked through his teeth laughing, “Glad ya enjoyed yourself at least.”

“Come lay down sweetheart, here on the couch.” Elaine led her to the adjacent wicker lounge. “Get you some ginger ale or something. Heavens, girly, the appetite on you!”

“Are you gonna eat with us, daddy?” Ella spoke up timidly as she took her own seat, the rather novel concept of her daddy at morning breakfast and the pride she took in her own cooking warring to make his verdict overly meaningful to her.

Elvis stared for a moment at the heaping piles of fluffy goodness with its melting pad of butter and sparkling syrup trickling to the plate as Jack voiced the very worry he had rattling in his head:

“That’s a lotta carbs.”

The whole table’s racket of pancake stabbing screeched to a halt and Elaine fumbled the glass bottle of ginger ale she had retrieved from the fridge to the very ground in her shock. “Jack!” she chatsized with more vehemence than the little stinker had ever elicited from her in his life, “Why on earth would you say a thing like that?”

Jack shrugged, although the combined weight of his family’s horror and Elaine’s blazing eyes made him timid, “It's just what the Colonel said. Last night. To daddy.”

“And why would you ever wanna sound like that good for nothin’ scallywag?” Elaine cried, “We appreciate a good appetite in this house, plenty of folks don’t have what we’ve got and we’re not about to thank the good Lord for his generosity to us by listenin’ to the worn out gimmicks of a corpulent glutton. Carbs! Maybe he should count some carbs-“

“Laney, laney.” Elvis moderated her with a shushing wave of his hand and she stilled, pinching the bridge of her nose in that way Jesse had learned from her and clipping over to Daisy with grief stricken eyes she hid behind her ire.

“Sorry.” Jack croaked while giving his mother the stink eye even as Jesse in turn glared at him, “I said I was sorry?”

“There’s nothin’ to be sorry about Jack.” Elvis insisted, eyeing his strangely cold wife as she tended to Daisy and got her a preemptive barf pan. “You were just statin’ nutritional facts and if you’re gonna be a scientist one day, your interest in ‘em will serve ya well. Now Ella, dish me up some a’those sticky carbs, won’t ya?”

Ella beamed and quickly stacked up a steaming pile on her daddy’s plate, presenting a blushing cheek for his kiss just as Daisy lost her battle with the bellyache and puked into the bowl Elaine held for her.

“Well that’s an appetizing sound.” Jesse pushed his plate away with a joking grimace and he and Elvis shared a silly moment that almost made Jesse forget about the shower and his subsequent vow never to look his daddy in the eye again.

“Poor Mae, Mae,” Elvis sighed, stabbing his pancake and making a show of chewing it obnoxiously for Ella’s benefit.

Elaine couldn’t help but smirk, even as she dabbed at Daisy’s mouth with a cloth, amused that her man was moaning louder over pancakes than he did from her attentions in the shower.

“So,” he spoke up as he scarfed them down, “what’s this about swimmin’? Hmm? For the record I never promised anythin’ of the kind but, loathe as I am to award bad behavior,” and here he gave Jack a pointed look over his poised fork, “since we’re all together, why not?”

“Really? Really?” Rosalee screamed so loud in his ear he shook his head just to get the ringing out.

“Oh daddy, it’s gonna be so fun! You there! Oh yes yes yes yes!” Ella was spinning in circles, having gotten out of her chair at some point to celebrate.

“Mhmm,” he hushed them and went on, pushing his plate away, “is it swimmin’ you’ve really got your hearts set on?”

“Well, no- we just wanna be with you.” Rosalee admitted.

“What? No! We wanna go swimmin’, just us and mama-“

“Jack, please hush up.” Jesse begged.

“See I was thinkin’,” Elvis rose above his six year old’s sharp remarks, “we could certainly go swimmin’ but then again, ya can go swimmin’ most anytime, near anywhere. But ya know what ya can’t do?”

“What, daddy?” a hushed chorus of anticipation went up from his little audience, even Daisy showed interest as Elaine doted on her.

“How would you Tiddlywinks like to fly ‘round in a helicopter?” He asked with a brilliant grin.

“No way!” Jesse nearley fell out of his seat and his eyes filled with excitement.

“Yes way, perks of the job, boyo.” Elvis sat smug at the head of his table as his children gushed around him in a frenzy of anticipation, Elaine watched their adoration with a pleased smile, praying only that he wasn’t going to be the lone pilot. “Now who’s glad daddy works for that ‘corpulent scalliwag’, huh?” he goaded and Elaine’s smile turned brittle as the kids laughed and cheered.

Elvis eyes met hers above the den of kids clearing plates and his sober, cobalt stare put her right back in her place, a place that more and more had little or nothing to do with his creative processes and business deals - a far cry from the production and artistry that first brought them to together. She bit her lip and walked the vomit pan back to the sink, receiving a wide berth from the little revelers as she did. “Alright well, help your mama with this mess and get yourselves sorted.” he clapped, “We’ll leave, soon as we’re ready. Gotta go brush my teeth.” he rose from the table, his hasty exit unnoticed by any save Elaine who postured herself to be in his path as he turned to go into the master bedroom,

“E,” she murmured softly as he brushed past and he didn’t stop, but she knew he was listening by the tilt of his head as he went “while you’re at it, be sure you don’t accidentally brush your tonsils again, silly man.”

This loaded tease met with a titter of laughs by the couple clueless kids who overheard it and this time it was Elvis’ face that grew brittle, his step halted and his lip was close to sneering as he lowly rejoined,

“If you know ‘nother silly man who can get you a helicopter ride, an all expenses paid for vacation to Hawaii and satisfy your particular tastes, then be my guest Elaine, you tell him how to brush his teeth.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo

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[weixuldo]

Enigma// ch 27

anakin x reader

A/N: Heyyyy- this one is pretttty long lol (a range of emotions for your reading pleasure) Hopefully u guys enjoy!! Also I am not an ordained minister and have never been to a courthouse wedding- so just keep that in mind if I totally butchered the process lollll!! as always, thanks for reading :)

NSFW

Courthouse weddings were not on your bucket list this year, but if its with Ani- you'll be alright.

warnings: cursing, mentions of pregnancy, afab! reader, marriage?, ani is a disabled veteran, topics of death, Vaginal sex, oral (f!recieving), cumplay (kind of?), liver failure?, depictions of pain

____________________________

You lightly squeezed Anakin’s upper arm with excitement as the officiant entered the small room. He was an older man, but he wasn’t the stereotypical short, bumbling bureaucrat; instead he was rather tall, in shape, and filled out his pressed suit nicely. He seemed to have himself all together.

He eyed the two of you suspiciously (he probably thought the two of you were a joke). After all, the two of you were nowhere near as dressy as him.

You wore a simple white dress you found at a thrift store you frequented. It has a lacy trim and a beautiful silk trail; honestly it was crazy that you found this in a size that would fit your pregnant belly in such a pinch. 

Anakin told you he would have bought you a new dress from a boutique if you wanted, but you respectfully declined; you really liked the appeal of a secondhand dress- nothing wrong with clothing that told a story and now you got to add some new memories to the dress. 

Anakin wore the only suit he owned, a plain dark blue coat and trousers with a white button up. Though, it was definitely too big for him now since he had lost so much weight. He never bought a new one because he always hated wearing suits (too many ceremonies in his full dress for the army), plus most suits made it hard for him to maneuver his limbs due to the cut and the tightness. 

Whenever you were a little girl, you never expected the wedding of your dreams would be in a courthouse- but being here with Anakin was all your heart could ask for. 

The officiator walked around to the bench and set his leather briefcase down lightly, before taking a few papers out. Anakin placed a stiff hand on your forearm and gave you a small smile. 

“How are you doing, beautiful?” he whispered, his words tickling your ear. 

WIth a shy giggle, you responded “I can’t wait to be your wife, Ani”. 

“Alright- do we have everyone who should be present in attendance?” the tall man in front of you asked. 

You turned behind you to check if Ben, Satine, and Ahsoka were still back there (where else would they have gone?). Once you gave them a quick smile, you turned back to the man and nodded. 

“Perfect. My name is Mace Windu, and I will be officiating this marriage- I am to inform you that I am an ordained minister by law and every document you sign here will be officially binding. If you have any objections before we proceed, speak now or forever hold your peace. Shall we begin?” the man spoke before taking a moment to scan the room. 

“No objections? Very well. We will begin the ceremony.”

Mace spoke so formally and so precisely that it felt more like you were being read your rights rather than being wed- but either way, you couldn't be happier. 

Sadly your city’s courthouse didn’t allow for personalized vows (you had no idea why), so the ceremony was rather short. Once Windu had gone through the formalities and such it was your turn to answer. 

“Anakin Skywalker, do you take this woman to be your lawfully-wedded wife”.

Anakin turned towards you and held his gloved hands out for you to hold. A soft, yet all consuming look of adoration consumed his features as he gazed upon your beauty. You were the most radiant woman he had ever set his sights on- how were you about to be his wife? 

Anakin’s “I do” came out more as a heartfelt sigh than a statement, but that made it even more special. 

His smile lines were evident around on his face as his blue eyes admired you; he was a little self conscious about the “wrinkles” but you always reminded him they told so much more than age- they told the story of his life; his joy, his despair, his pain, his laughter- they made him who he was. 

“And do you, f/n l/n, take this man to be your lawfully-wedded husband?” Mace asked with a small smile. 

“I do” you delivered with your whole heart. 

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride” 

Without hesitation, Anakin slipped his hand against your cheek and brought your lips to his. Never had a kiss been so dizzying- passion, lust, love, excitement, longing, and sadness all combined into one.

You reveled in the feeling of your plush lips against his. 

You nearly forgot you were in public when your friends started to clap and make their way towards the front of the room. Mace set out the official document and handed you an expensive fountain pen for you to sign with. 

You forgot all thoughts of his judgment once he handed you the pen with a smile, “congratulations, Mrs. Skywalker”.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach- Mrs. Skywalker…. Wow. 

Anakin wrapped a loving arm around your back and pressed another kiss to your temple. 

“I love you so much sweetheart, more than anything” 

“You are my everything, Ani” you responded with another kiss. 

___________________________________

“Are you sure you want to do this, princess?” Anakin asked shakily as you led him to your shared bedroom. 

“I’m completely sure, Ani” 

Ever since that first kiss as a married couple, you and Anakin had both been pining after each other the whole day; of course you had each other now, but you wanted that intimacy that was expected on a wedding night. 

You didn’t ache for him purely from lust, rather it was an all consuming desire to be one with your lover, you wanted to be able to physically channel the love you so desperately felt. 

“Please, Ani… I want you inside of me- I want you” 

Your sweet and sensual tone made him shiver; how could he deny his beautiful little wife? Anakin bit his bottom lip hesitantly and nodded as he began to remove his slacks. 

You relaxed back onto the mattress and released a sigh, “thank you my love”.

His sandy locks fell in front of his eyes as he gazed back at you, “Anything for you”.

Once he removed his pants, you helped him with his shirt; he laid on his stomach and placed his face between your plush thighs. 

You were dizzy with anticipation as his bright blue eyes gazed upon your aching core- the two of you hadn’t been intimate in this way since the baby and all that time was taking a toll on you.

Obviously the two of you agreed to be gentle for the sake of the baby, but deep down all you wanted was for your newly-wed husband to fuck you untill you couldn’t speak right. 

His stiff, cold hands held your in-place by your hips and he pushed his face right into you. Anakin’s skillful tongue swirled around your sensitive bud as he made his way up and down your delicate folds. 

Unintentionally, you arched your back which caused your pelvic bone to bump his nose into your clit; an odd sensation that made you jolt. The strong cartilage pressed nicely against your swollen clit. Maker, was there any part of this man that you didn’t love?

“O-oh Ani” you moaned.

He started slowly but as your breathing began to quicken, so did his motions. He wasn’t really able to maneuver his mechanical digits in the way he would have liked to, so his mouth was very skilled. 

He lapped up your sweet juices as he rutted his painfully hard erection into the plush mattress. He could get off by your reactions to his tongue alone. You were gorgeous.

He eyed your round stomach and for some reason that only charged his lust. You were carrying his child- his. 

Anakin never really saw the appeal of children when he was younger (probably also because they were such a big factor for him and Padme), but now- now he saw the appeal. He saw all of it. 

Though the child was an accident, it was born from the love and passion you and Anakin had for each other, this child would be there to love you when he’d be gone- this child you carried held his future.

His head spun with all consuming love for you- his wife. 

Maker, he never thought he would get another chance at love after his accident all those years ago… 

“A-Ani! I’m close” you whimpered, as your thighs trembled on either side of his face. 

Your shaky voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he paused to kiss your sensitive bud before he helped you reach your anticipated release. 

“Let go for me baby” he instructed softly.

And you did just that; stars flooded your vision and your brain went fuzzy. You couldn’t remember the last time you came (probably before the baby).

You allowed yourself a moment to gather yourself; Your chest heaved as you sat upright to draw him into a sloppy kiss. His sandy locks were all disheveled and his cheeks were rosy- he was perfect. 

“Ani- that was… amazing” you huffed, still riding out your high. 

His lips quirked upwards and he placed a hand on your cheek, “Anything for you, my love”. 

He never hesitated to make you blush. You looked down to see his large bulge straining against his boxers. 

“Oh, Anakin…” you cooed as you ghosted your fingers across his rock hard shaft.

He shut his eyes and quivered at your touch. You leaned forward and pulled back the elastic waistband to get a peek at his blushing member.

His velvety tip was bright red and weeping with precum; you gave it a soft kiss and collected a bead of his salty cum.

“F-fuck” he shuddered. 

You began to tug his boxers off; as you did you kissed down his hip bone, v-line, and pelvis. You pulled the thin fabric over the threshold of his human and prosthetic legs until they were finally off. 

His heavy dick slapped against his lower stomach; his one vein prominently pulsing on display for your pleasure. You gently dragged your fingers along the ridged scars that peppered his cock (they added a different level of sensation when they brushed against your walls).

You were about to take him into your mouth when he stopped you. 

“Wait- I want to be in you” he said breathlessly. 

You knew what he meant, but you felt like teasing him- “Well, technically you would be” you smirked. 

He exhaled and playfully shook his head, “I didn’t know I married a comedian”. 

You giggled and sat back up, “alright Ani, where do you want me?”.

The routine question was not because he liked to order you around the bedroom (well, sometimes he did), it was more of a courtesy question you habitually asked. Anakin was limited in the amount of positions he could pull off and some days certain ones were easier than others. 

“Lie on your back” he said and you complied. 

He grabbed a few pillows and stacked them under the small of your back so that you were more arched (a personal favorite of yours). He kneeled his prosthetics on the bed right against the backs of your thighs. 

Anakin felt light headed with lust as he caressed your breasts and then down your swollen belly. His weeping cock was pulsing in anticipation as it stood proudly, eager to enter your plush pussy. 

“Alright sweetheart” he breathed before slowly pushing himself into your. 

You gasped as his bulbous head made its way into your cunt.

“Are you alright?” he asked quickly (and worriedly). 

You nodded and asked him to continue. 

Slowly, inch-by-inch, he made his way into you. You gripped the bedsheets and tossed your head back in pleasure. 

Anakin was already feeling indescribably good, but when he finally bottomed out, he couldn’t suppress the guttural moan that escaped him. 

“Feel good?” you asked him with a lazy smile. 

He nodded vigorously “f-feels so good baby- s-so good” he babbled as he gently rutted his hips into you. 

You patted his thigh to get his attention, “You can move more Ani- you won’t hurt the baby” you coached. 

He clenched his jaw and nodded once more before he slowly dragged his length across your plush walls. The slow cadence of his hips made you shudder- the contrast from his fast and precise tongue to the slow but filling feeling of his cock only added to your overstimulation. 

“Fuck…. you look so beautiful baby- my beautiful- ahh- m-my beautiful wife” he said. 

“All yours Ani” 

He groaned at your sentiment and began to quicken his pace- you felt so damn good; he was already feeling his release coming?

He watched your swollen breasts bounce as he thrusted in and out of you- he couldn’t take it anymore. Anakin shut his eyes and tossed his head back, 

“I’m so- I’m so close baby” he almost cried (he too, had not cum in a while). 

He snapped his hips into yours, making you yelp in pleasure, “F-fuck, ‘m sorry princess” he apologized before he moaned once more. 

“I’m gonna cum! I’m- I- ‘m cumming. I’m cumming!” he stuttered as his body shook violently with the orgasm that ripped through him. 

You gasped at the warm thrust of cum that shot into your already sensitive pussy. His thick ropes painted your insides as he continued to empty himself into you. 

Both of you panted heavily and he began to unsheathe himself from your pussy. His dick was coated in a marvelous mixture of both of your highs… a heavenly sight. 

You sat up and helped rest Anakin against the headboard before you retrieved his inhaler. You administered a few puffs before his breathing had calmed down. 

“I don’t think you understand how indescribably in love I am with you” he huffed as his beautiful blue eyes looked deeply into yours. 

You smiled and blushed a stray curl behind his ear, “I understand completely”.

________________________________________

You snuggled close to Anakin under the warm covers after the two of you had gotten cleaned up and took a shower.

You couldn’t believe you were actually married to the man you loved more than anyone else. Sure the two of you had got off on the wrong foot and had your rough patches, but look how far you've come. 

Sleep was finally washing over you when you felt Anakin tense beside you. He was probably dreaming- he was plagued by constant nightmares from his past.

You began to brush your fingers through his hair (something you did to calm him when he would dream), but when his body jolted and he curled onto his side, you knew it wasn’t a nightmare. 

“Anakin?!” you exclaimed when he started thrashing and groaning.

You sat up and reached for the light. He was clutching his right side with the arm he kept on at night- it was his liver. 

His eyes were screwed shut as he braced himself against the bed. He wailed when you helped him upright, you could see his veins pulsing; every inch of him was screaming out for relief. 

“Ani, I’m going to go get your pills, ok? Are you alright here?” you said hurriedly, your own heart rate was through the roof. 

He just cried and shook his head, “Please- do-don’t leave me” he managed through gritted teeth. 

Your eyes softened, “Ani, the pills will help, just let me get them for you- please?” you pleaded. 

He stayed silent and finally nodded.

“Ok, I’ll be right back” you said before kissing him on the forehead. 

You raced to the kitchen counter where his pile of pills sat, you rummaged through the bottles looking for the pain pills the doctor prescribed. Once you finally had it you dashed back to the bedroom. 

Anakin had laid back down on his side and his face was scrunched in pain. You rushed to his side and pulled him up so that he was lying against your chest. His grimace was painful to look at and he drool had begun to pool on the area he had lied down on. 

“Oh, Ani” you whispered as he trembled in your hold. 

You helped him take his meds and comforted him as the feeling began to pass. He finally drifted off after about an hour or so of in-and-out pain. 

Once you laid him back down, you walked out to the living room and sat on the couch. You debated switching on the TV to mindlessly view some stupid show to attempt to occupy your racing mind, but you ended up just staring at the black screen. 

Before you knew it, salty tears were streaming down your face. Why did Anakin have to endure this? Hadn’t he gone through enough? 

You thought about how happy you were all day and how much you wanted a life with him-but now this? Nothing but a bitter reminder of the limited time you actually had with your husband. 

What hurt the most was there was nothing you could do...

nothing you could do, but wait.

***

a/n: so sorry this ended on such a somber note but I told ya- it was a rollercoaster in here hahah- also ik courthouse weddings take more planning, but for the sake of the story- we’re gonna pretend Anakin had been planning this and compiling the documents so that if you said yes (which you did) the two of you would be able to be wed as soon as you signed ur name on the respective dotted line :)

taglist : @dnamht @sxoulohvn @angeelcoree @wtf-andys @httpeachesblog @katsukiswrld @jetiikote @poisonedsultana @imarimone12 @fallinlovewithevil @sythe-skywalker

#darth vader #darth vader x reader #anakin x reader #vader #sw darth vader #anakin #star wars #darth vader fic #star wars x reader #anakin x you #anakin star wars #anakin fanfiction #anakin x fem reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #sw x reader #sw smut #star wars smut #enigma fic #enigma

[louloulemons-posts]

Cuddles and Stew

StepDad!Eddie X Mom!Reader

Summary : The third instalment of Margot - you get sick and Margot calls Eddie

Word Count : 2.2k

Warnings : Not proofread, half was written at 4am lol, petnames, cuteness, talks of illness and pain meds, margots just adorable, girl dad eddie, mainly margot and eddie content - not much reader.

A/N : sorry for lack of updates, i’m working hard on the multi part fic and am going into a writers block lmao 🫶🏻 sorry loves, hopefully more should be coming soon.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Lay underneath his vans, Eddies hands were dirty as he tried to fix a ticking sound. He heard the faint ringing of the phone from inside the trailer and Wayne pick it up.

The squeak of the trailer door, made him slide from under the van, “Eddie it’s for you,” the man said, urgency in his voice. It made Eddies brow furrow as he wiped his hands and jogged to him.

“Hello?”he spoke.

“Eddie?” A voice he wasn’t expecting.

“Mar? That you sweet girl?”

“Yes,” she spoke softly.

“Is everything okay? How come you’re calling me?” he asked, obviously he adored that she was, but he was concerned he couldn’t hear you whispering to her in the background.

“Something wrong with Mama. Mama said this number for ‘mergecy.”

“Hey I’ll be right there okay? You got sit with mom and do not answer the door, I’ll be there soon baby I promise.”

“Okay,” the young girl said softly.

Ripping his greasy clothes off, changed into the first things he found. “Hey I need to borrow your car,” he spoke to Wayne, panicking.

“Yeah son sure, everything okay? Little Miss doesn’t normally call.” Eddie explained, shoving his foot in his trainers and grabbing Wayne’s car keys.

“Well call me and let me know how she is son,” he said, as Eddie climbed into the vehicle. Speeding away, he knew the neighbours would complain to Wayne about reckless driving.

He didn’t care, he needed to get to his girls.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Putting his key in the lock, he pushed open the door. The house seemed fairly quiet, TV chattering away faintly. “Baby?” he called out.

No answer. Your car was here so you were home. “Margot? Margot are you here?” he tried again peeking round into the living area.

“Daddy!” A whisper shout came from the top of the stairs. There was Margot, hair frizzy from sleep, her favourite pyjamas and one sock. “Hi Sweetheart, where’s mom?”

“Here!” she did a summoning motion with her hands, so he bounded up the stairs to meet her. She took his hand and led him down the hallway.

You were sat at the end of the bed, on the floor. Head between you knees, breathing deeply. “Mama,” Margot said gently, kneeling next to you, “Mama wook, Eddie.”

With eyes scrunched in pain and confusion, you lifted your head. Meeting his brown eyes, you couldn’t fathom why he was here. “E-Eddie, what are you doing here?” you asked.

You looked awful, skin pale and flushed at the same time. You looked exhausted, body breaking down in a way. “Margot called me.”

“What?”

“Numbers for ‘mergencies Mama.”

Tears welled in your eyes, you felt awful. You’d sat down because your head wouldn’t stop spinning, you thought it would be the safest place. “Oh Mar I’m so sorry,” you sniffled.

Eddie came and crouched next to you now, holding your head gently. “It’s otay Mama, Eddie make you bedder,” she spoke, resting her head on you.

A large palm was on your forehead, lovely and cool. “Babe, you’ve got a fever. Come on we’ve gotta get you into bed. Rest, fluids, sleep.”

“What? No! I can’t, I gotta get up,” pushing yourself up the ground, it wasn’t even a full second before you were coming back down.

Head buzzing and pounding.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got to let me look after you.”

“B-but, Margot and work!” you panicked.

“Baby, come on calm down,” he held your face in his palms, “I’m gonna look after Mar, and hey it’s a long weekend. So you can rest up.”

Sighing you nodded, “I need new pyjamas.”

“I ged dem!” Margot spoke, running to your draws. Her voice made your head pound, the volume of everything seemed to be amplified.

Pulling out your favourite pair, ones that matched those she currently had on, she brought them to you. “Thanks baby,” you said, gently stroking her hair.

“Okay, get changed okay, me and Nurse Margot will get you some water and other things you need,” Eddie spoke, helping you to your side of the bed.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Margot stood on her step-stool, filling your water bottle at the tap. “Da, it’s done,” she said, so he could come and do the lid. He grabbed pain killers, tissues, cold juice from the fridge. He was also heating some water for a hot water bottle.

“Good job Bubby,” he smiled, kissing the girl on the head. Soon enough the kettle whistled letting him know it was done, “You stay over there okay? This is very hot.”

After he filled the water bottle he let Margot carry the tissues and your cold water bottle up the stairs to your. You were lay under the covers, eyes closed, now clad in your new pyjamas.

“Here you go Mama,” the small girl said quietly, placing the water and tissue next to you. Eddie did the same, but lifted the blanket slightly so he could put the hot water bottle under it.

Pulling the curtains closed, he hoped that’d help your head. “You stay with Mom for a second, I’m just gonna get a compress for her head,” he said to Margot.

Wetting a washcloth so it’d cool you down, although you were freezing right now, he had no doubt you’d be sweating in a minute or two. “Here you go,” he pushed you hair back, letting the refreshing feeling take over your body.

“Sweetheart, you need to take these too,” he handed you the medication and drink, helping you sit up. Eyes still shut, unable to deal with any kind light.

Once you laid back down he spoke again, “You rest now. Me and Margot will go make us all something yummy and come back later to check on you.”

Picking the small child up from your side, you head a faint, “Bye Mama, wove you.” Which you repeated in a slurred and sleepy way. Snoozing away moments later.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Mama gone be otay?” The young girl asked from Eddies arms, as they went to the kitchen. “Yeah Sweetheart she’ll be okay, she’s just gotta get lots of sleep.” Margot hummed and cuddled into Eddie.

“We’re gonna make her some soup okay? Make her feel better.”

“I help!”

“Of course, we’ve gotta get some veggies from Aunt Maeves patch.”

The pair went into the garden, Maeve had said they can always help themselves. Updating everyone one what was ready to be harvested and what to leave.

In all honestly, Margot was the best person to have with him, she knew what plants were what and if they were ready - she spent lots of her days with Maeve in the garden becoming sun kissed.

“Okay so we need some potatoes, carrots, onions and I’m not sure what else.” Holding Margot on his hip as she was still only wearing the one sock, she pointed out all the different veggies they needed.

“Think we’re gonna need to make a few trips Love,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Auntie Mae has a bwasket,” she told him. “A basket, let’s go get it then.”

“Me help!”

“Bubby your feet will get grubby.”

“My boots!” She wriggled from Eddies hold, and ran to get her welly-boots. She looked a picture, pyjamas, crazy hair and wellies. Pulling a large basket behind her, Margot returned to Eddie.

Pulling a hair tie from his wrist, he comb it all into one hand and sat a loose bun on her head. She didn’t have much hair cause she was still small, but there was enough to annoy her. “Twanks Da,” she said, and went to the potatoes.

“I got-ta big one!” she squealed as she shook the dirt off. “Good job Mar, we need 3 more of those okay?” Eddie crouched down beside her, putting the basket between them so she could put the veggies in.

“And Two! … And ree! … And dats Fo-wr.”

“Good job! Let’s go and get some carrots.” Running away, Margot boots stomped on the group. “Well hello you two.” Maeve stood at the door.

“Auntie Mae!” Margot smiled, waving with grubby hands. “Hello my dears, what’s going on here?” she asked, coming out into the garden. “We’re making soup,” Eddie said.

“Mama, not well. I call-ded Eddie and now we make soup!”

“Mom isn’t well?” she said, caressing the little ones hair, looking up at Eddie. “She’s got a fever. We’ve taken her everything she needs and she’s sleeping now, so we thought we cook her something nice.”

“That’s very kind of you. I can cook it if you’d like?” The older woman offered, kindly.

“Would you mind, I honestly have no idea what to put in it.”

“I’ll write you a recipe,” she smiled, crows feet by her eyes.

“Why don’t I finish getting all of this, and you can help Margot get ready for the day,” she smiled to Eddie, taking the basket from his hand. “Thank you Mae, Margot come on Sweetheart.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Soon enough Margot was clean and dressed, clad in a little blue dress with a white tshirt underneath. Both feet now covered by socks and hair under control.

“Hey Sweetheart, why don’t you go and see if you can help Mae,” Eddie spoke, and the small girl ran off. He headed into your room, you were snoozing away, you seemed to have cooled down. Placing a soft kiss to your sticky cheek.

He found Margot and Maeve in the kitchen, the little girl stood on her stood, helping chop the veggies with her plastic knife. She caught sight of Eddie and smiled, “Wook Da I choppin’!”

“You are, that’s some super good chops bubby.”

“How’s she doing?” Maeve asked.

“She’s still sleeping, she seems to have cooled down a lot.” Maeve hummed and continued to dice an onion.

“Eddie!” Margot said in a sing song voice, he hummed and stood behind her. “Can you put dem in the pot, pwease.”

“Sure babe,” he kissed her head and took the roughly chopped potatoes and carrots to the pot.

Soon enough it was simmering away, and Maeve had added some chicken. “It shouldn’t take too long,” the older woman said, taking Margot to living room you sat her on the couch.

“Eddie, is Mama otay?” the small girl asked.

“She will be, I promise. She just needs to sleep.” As soon as those words left his mouth, he heard the bedroom door open and soft padding feet down to the bathroom.

“Stay here,” he said to the small girl, jogging up the stairs. Knocking on the bathroom door he spoke gently, “Baby you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said faintly, exhaustion clear in your voice.

Opening the door up, you smiled weakly at the curly haired man. “How you feeling?”

“Tired. Thank you for looking after Mar.”

“Hey it’s no trouble, Maeves watching her right now. We’re making you stew? Soup? I’m not sure,” he laughed.

“It smells good,” you hummed.

“I’ll bring you some up when it’s done, I’m sure Mar will be joining me too. Let’s get you back to bed.” Helping you down the hall and to the bed, you sipped some water.

“Do you need another compress?” he asked. “No I’m okay, I’m feeling a little cold so.”

“Okay baby, well the water bottles still warm so it should be okay. Let’s tuck you in,” he smiled.

Placing your quilt and a thicker blanket over you, you hummed in contentment. “How’s your head?”

“It’s not hurting as much and I’m not as dizzy anymore.”

“Good good, it’s going then. How come you didn’t call me babe?”

“It started a few days ago, I didn’t think it was anything. Apparently I was wrong. I can’t believe Margot called you, what if I’d collapsed! What if she got hurt!” your eyes welled.

“Hey hey,” Eddie sat down beside you, “Baby it’s okay, she’s alright. She did so good, you taught her so well. She explained what she needed too and she stayed safe near you.”

“I just feel bad.”

“I know, but it’s not your fault. You’re sick, you can’t blame yourself baby. Okay?” you nodded at him. “Now get some sleep.”

Closing your eyes, the door clicked closed and Eddie headed back down to Maeve and Margot. “Mama otay?”

“Yeah she was just telling me she’s starting to feel a bit better.”

Maeve squeezed his shoulder, “Well the food should be done in a little while, why don’t we watch one of your movies?”

“Cina-rella?”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The three of you sat on the bed, a tray on your lap. Big bowl of warm soup and some crusty bread. “Oh it taste delicious! You guys did such a good job.”

“Feel better Mama?”

“Yeah Mar I feel better, thank you for looking after me. You did so good calling Eddie.”

“You did,” Eddie smiled, squeezing the little one who sat in his lap.

“Just did what chu said Ma,” she smiled.

“You did the best babe, that’s why you’re my best girl. We’ve gotta be careful though or you two will definitely get sick.”

Margot coughed. “Oh no.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #joe quinn #joe quinn imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #eddie x reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #margot and eddie #louloulemons #stranger things imagine #joesph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn

[spicyspiders]

not a chance to slow down

Peter Quill x male reader smut

1.8k words

Tags: unprotected sex and age difference

A/N: I’ve been obsessed with Star-Lord since I played the Guardians of the Galaxy game around the beginning of the year. The one written about here though is from the MCU and was pretty much inspired by some gifs I saw and couldn’t stop thinking about lol. I’ll probably end up writing something about Adam Warlock too because how could I not when Will Poulter looks as good as he does.

The first time you spoke to Peter, it was in passing. You were tired and cranky, having driven many miles to get home during your summer break from school. You were on your last box when he came out of his house.

“Nice shirt,” you said casually when he walked by you.

“Thanks!” His eyes darted down to the box you held, “you need some help with that?”

“This is the last one, thankfully,” you answered and used one hand to wipe the sweat that had gathered on your brow.

“I wish I knew you needed help, I definitely would’ve been out here to help you,” the man responded.

You couldn’t help but eye him over. With how broad his shoulders looked, you’re sure he would’ve been able to help without getting as sweaty as you did.

“I appreciate that, but it’s okay,” you said, sending him a smile, “that mail does look pretty heavy after all.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” the man responded, and raised the few pieces of mail like a dumbbell, making his bicep flex.

It was probably from the time you spent in your car making you go a little crazy, but the man’s joke made you laugh harder than you expected. The other man’s face went red as you laughed, but after a second, he almost looked smug, like he was happy his joke had such a reaction.

“So,” the man says when your laughter has died down, “you here for the summer?”

“Yeah. After a long semester, I’m finally home,” you said, sending a grateful smile toward your house.

“Well, I’m happy to be the first person to welcome you back,” he says, sending you a soft smile.

You didn’t want to tell the man that he wasn’t the first person you saw since you’ve been home, instead, a smile matching the one the man wore landed on your lips. “Who do I have to thank for such a warm welcome?”

“Peter Quill, at your service,” he said, adding a bow.

You couldn’t help but laugh again at the display. You introduced yourself around the fit of giggles as Peter went on to laugh at himself.

“Let me know if you need any help unpacking,” Peter called from his door after you walked up your respective driveways. “Hopefully I’ll be seeing a lot more of you,” Peter said as he stood in the open doorway.

“I hope so too,” you responded, sending one last smile his way before you closed the door. The smile on your face lasted until you got to your bedroom, and fell once you were reminded of all of the boxes you needed to unpack.

-

Though you were tempted to walk out of your house and head next door to see if Peter would come to help you unpack your boxes, you didn’t end up seeing him until the next day.

“Are you on mail duty too?” Peter asked as he leaned against his mailbox.

“It’s one of my most important responsibilities. Nice robe, by the way,” it was pretty boring as far as robes go with its plain white color, but you weren’t about to tell Peter that.

“You like it?” Peter twists himself to the left and right to make sure you have a full look at the garment, “I just bought it.”

“Am I the first to see you in it?” You ask in surprise.

“You are. I saved it just for you.”

You let out a chuckle, though you weren’t sure if Peter was being serious, “what’s it gonna be tomorrow?”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest, looking away with an intense look of thought on his face, “I could break out my birthday suit, but that’s reserved for my bedroom and the bathroom.”

You look at him with your brows raised, a slow smile spreading across your face, “I think I would get pretty lonely if you got arrested for doing that, so I’d think of something else to wear.”

“Or you could come up to my room and I could just show you, that way I don’t have to think of what I should wear to impress you,” Peter said with a smirk.

“I know thinking can be hard at your age, so that sounds like a good idea.”

Peter’s smirk morphed into a look of offense, “how old do you think I am?”

“You were wearing a Metallica shirt yesterday.”

“So? They’re a good band, that doesn’t make me old,” Peter responded.

“How old are you?”

Peter looked away, and glanced at the mail you held in your hand before looking back at you, “40,” he answered before looking away again.

“You’re not that old at least,” you responded, smiling when Peter shook his head.

You couldn’t ignore the nervous feeling that started to sink in when you stepped up to the man, “I have to put this inside then I’ll be over, okay?”

Peter nodded, sending you a small smile, “better hurry, you don’t want me getting any older, do you?”

-

You meant it when you said Peter wasn’t that old. It even made more things about him make sense, like his taste in shirts, and the way his eyes crinkled yesterday when he laughed at his joke. What didn’t make sense, or really, what you didn’t expect, was the way that he fucked you.

It almost reminded you of the guy you went home with last semester. Like the guy you went home with, Peter fucked you fast and hard. You honestly expected it to be over just as quickly as that last time, but when Peter rolled over onto his back and sat you down on his cock, you let out a punched out noise of surprise.

“Tired?” You asked.

Peter grinned, “I’m not as young as I used to be,” he said, running his hands up and down your thighs. When he pulled his hands away, he crossed them behind his head, looking relaxed.

You watched in confusion as Peter lay there. When his eyes fell shut, you clenched down on his cock, hoping to get the man back into action, but he stayed still. When you clenched back down on his throbbing cock, that’s when Peter’s eyes opened again to watch you.

“That all you’re going to do?” Is that enough to get you off?” He asked with a smirk.

“Fuck you,” you snipped back. You knew from the first time that you brought yourself up with your thighs that they would quickly start to ache, but it only spurred you on. You fell back down after bringing yourself up with a moan, feeling as if the cock inside you went deeper than the poison that you were just in.

“There you go, baby,” Peter said, his smirk now a toothy smile, “I knew you had it in you,” he said, still just fucking laying there.

In retaliation for his stillness, you reached down to twist at one of his nipples with your fingers, but it only made Peter let out a groan filled with pleasure. You took to settling your hands on his broad chest, finding purchase to help fuck yourself down on his cock.

You didn’t expect after only having met yesterday that you would be bouncing up and down on his cock the next day. You could see when you met him yesterday how broad his shoulders and chest were, but now, seeing it uncovered from the shirt he wore yesterday, and the bathrobe he wore today, you could see the way his muscles were covered with a soft layer of fat.

Your head fell back as you let out moans as the cock inside you hit your prostate as you filled yourself to the brim over and over again.

When the inevitable burn in your thighs began to set in, you paused to lean down and press your lips to Peter’s. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his cock throb against your prostate, even as you sat still.

Peter answered with a noise of his own and moved his hands back down to your hips. He traced his fingers over the sensitive skin of your hips bones, making you shudder, and once the kiss was over, his hands moved to the globes of your ass.

Peter gripped the skin tightly and used the harsh grip to lift you before he loosened his grip so you could fall back down.

You felt your body go boneless in his arms from the effort that you had put in, but with the way that Peter lifted you so he could fuck his cock in and out of your hole, you were happy to let go under the effort he gave.

You panted into his sweaty neck, letting out little grunts as you tried to still fuck yourself back down on his cock. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, too focused on that to respond when Peter turned his neck to connect your lips.

In reprisal, Peter bit harshly into your bottom lip before he soothed the mark over with his tongue. The headboard slammed into the wall as Peter thrust over and over into your tight, warm hole. The sound was accompanied by the slick sound of sweaty skin on skin.

When you leaned up, Peter followed so he could stay close and connect your lips. You tried your best to keep up, but ended up with your forehead pressed to his as you panted into his mouth once the kisses were over.

With one hand still braced on his chest, you used the other to wrap your fingers around your cock. After a few tugs of your cock to the rhythm of Peter’s thrusts, your back arched and your head fell back as your orgasm washed over you.

You opened your eyes during the aftershocks as Peter chased you into orgasm. He held your asscheeks in a bruising grip as he thrust inside your hole. You almost wanted to open your mouth and let out a whimper of pain at the grip he held you in, but he soon relaxed as he fell over the edge.

Peter gave one final thrust when he let go of your ass, instead moving his hands to your back so he could pull you close. He groaned over and over again, each noise ending with a breathy moan as he came deep inside you.

You buried a hand in his sweaty hair as he ducked his head down into the crook of your neck. Peter held you close even after his cock had gone soft, his only movement being a slight shift for his cock to slip free.

You felt warm and sticky in his arms. You knew Peter had a mess that coated his chest from where your cock had shot ropes of cum, and you knew that you were equally messy where Peter’s cock had been, but you didn’t want to move.

Peter fell back down to the bed with a groan before pulling your body down on top of his. Though he wrapped you tightly in his arms, you still couldn’t contain your shiver as everything on and leaking out of you began to cool.

Peter gave a low chuckle, “did I not warm you up enough?”

You pressed your smile into the sweaty crook of his neck, “I might need your bathrobe.”

#x male reader #x male reader smut #peter quill x male reader #peter quill x male reader smut #star lord x male reader #star lord x male reader smut

[jamesunderwater]

Just found your page and I’m in looveee can I request number 15 with Jily and lily distracting james? tyy xx

Hello anon! I'm glad you're enjoying it here at my chaotic little blog, lol. I also found it very entertaining to still be receiving smut requests xD I wasn't in the mood to write anything too smutty, but I loved the prompt, so I hope you'll still enjoy this little microfic...which in a meta way is also something of a tease (;

Distractions

“Stop distracting me,” he grumbled, tongue returning to its spot sticking out of his mouth. He’d been trying to get the wrapping paper to stay put long enough for him to tape it down for several minutes now, constantly losing one of the sides and inevitably having to work on the fold all over again. Meanwhile his fiance seemed absolutely set on causing his failure. 

Her tongue flicked out over his earlobe again, and James felt the whole right side of his body burst with goosebumps. “This is how you best learn, though,” she teased, taking the soft skin between her teeth, “under pressure.”

He huffed, because she wasn’t wrong, but his determination to succeed was slipping the longer she toyed with him. “You said Petunia’s presents were always so meticulously wrapped it was practically an insult,” he was grumbling again, but it was nearly a pout, “and so here I am, trying to make sure ours are even more insultingly meticulous, and you’re sabotaging the endeavor!”

The bit of tape he’d been trying to use wrapped around his finger as she answered, “Mmhmm…” her lips now moving down to his neck.

“Lily…” James sighed, grip on the wrapping loosening. Suddenly, he winced. “Bugger all!” Pulling away from her, he brought his middle finger to his lips. “Now you’ve gone and gotten me a paper cut. Are you happy?”

It certainly seemed that she was, given that she was now laughing at him. “Oh, poor man. How ever will you survive it?”

“You’re infuriating. Are you aware of that?”

She grinned wickedly, because of course she was aware, and of course she delighted in it. Her expression turned serious, then, and he was sure it was a ruse, but when she reached out and took his finger, he still gave it to her. “Let me see…” She said tenderly. “Oh, this little nick here?” She pulled his finger toward her, kissing the spot softly, and he groaned in anticipation for where this was headed. “Oh, well we can fix that…” 

Lily pressed her lips against his finger, once, twice, then licked across the pad of it slowly, her green eyes staring into his. James shuddered, biting his lip, dropping his gaze to where she was now taking the tip of his finger into her mouth. He groaned as her tongue swirled around it, felt his cock twitch as she let out the softest moan. “Fucking hell…” James breathed, and then she was pulling her head back, smiling at him.

“There. All better.”

“I fucking hate you.”

She laughed, throwing her head back, and the sound of it was more captivating than anything she’d done before. 

“Well, then, you might hate this…” Lily smirked, and James didn’t know what to expect next, but his stomach flipped at the way she was looking at him. 

She pounced, sending him crashing to the floor, her body flush against his in a moment. As he fell, James accidentally kicked the present across the room, sending it crashing into the wall. He imaged the lovely glass ornament shattering in its box, but his hands were on her hips and Lily was biting his bottom lip, slipping her tongue inside his mouth, moaning as she rocked her body into his, and James forgot all about presents and wrapping and paper cuts, even the time of year or the room he was in or what day it was. 

She could, without fail, distract him from everything. 

#jily #jily smut #jily fic #jily microfic #my writing #jily microfic* #james potter #lily evans #lily evans potter #jple #jple smut #smut prompts #lovely anons #jily* #smut*

[wanderer-six]

Taste of You

NSFW (MINORS DNI)

AN:  I am convinced that Echo would be addicted to u riding his face to an unreasonable degree and also he's my precious boy so I wish to praise him bc he deserves it aaa💖 this is my 2nd fic and my first Blatantly Inappropriate fic so please lmk what u think LOL

Relationships: Echo x Fem Jedi!Reader (established relationship)

Summary: When you and Echo have the night together, he's content to keep you on his face the entire evening. But you aren't about to let your poor lover go unattended...

Warnings: general smut, faceriding, praise kink ("good boy"), hand?job?

Word Count: 1.3k

“Echo…!”

A swift movement of Echo’s tongue ripped a moan from your lips. With the war raging on, it was not often enough that you found yourself here, enjoying the company of your beloved ARC trooper in the privacy of a Coruscant hotel room. But the two of you always made the most of the rare occasions when your shore leave coincided with his…

…and more often than not, that led to you in this position: sitting on the face of the most adorable man in the GAR.

Between gasps and whimpers, you glanced down at the sweet face buried between your thighs. You managed a soft smile in the midst of your pleasure. Since his return from Skako Minor, Echo has struggled so greatly to be comfortable, too wary of himself to ever relax. But somehow, whenever he was beneath you like this, it seemed his every stress and worry would melt away.

Frankly, you wondered if he enjoyed it even more than you did—and that was saying something.

Gently, you trailed your fingers across Echo’s scalp. When he moaned in response, you shivered at the vibrations that traveled through your core. He suckled and lapped at your sensitive clit, and from the sound alone, you could tell you were sopping wet.

But as incredible as he felt, you still longed for something more. Braving a glance over your shoulder, you could see just how hard he was—his length dripping with excitement, twitching at every moan you uttered. You licked your lips, knowing exactly what would sate your appetite.

“Mm, Echo…” you hummed. Your hands ran gently along his head, the soft touches you knew he loved. “Will you please fuck me, sweetheart? I want you inside of me…”

Echo groaned against you. His already tight grip on your hips tugged you even closer to him. He kept teasing you with his tongue, his eyes closed in utter bliss. When at last he broke away for a breath, he didn’t bother opening them.

“Five more minutes,” he grunted, before his mouth was on your sex once more.

You rolled your eyes. You would expect that answer from a lazy cadet attempting to sleep in during training, not the man who would sooner suffocate than miss a taste of you. But how could you be upset with him? Tenacious and stubborn, he was an ARC through and through—and that dedication showed tenfold when it came to pleasing you. And while you were pleased—by the stars, were you pleased—you only wished to take such good care of him, in turn.

But, with Echo’s iron grip on your hips and his insatiable appetite for you, it seemed you wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. However, before you could resign yourself to another hour of riding his face (it was never, ever just “five minutes”), an idea came to you.

Echo wasn’t the only one with specialized training… and you had something in mind.

Willing yourself through the pleasure that Echo’s dexterous tongue overwhelmed you with, you managed to look over your shoulder once more. Shining beads of precum dribbled down Echo’s poor, neglected cock. Though you wanted with all of your heart to lick him clean, your mouth couldn’t reach him from this position. But that didn’t mean you were helpless.

Gently closing your eyes, you raised a hand—reaching out to the Force and flexing your palm slightly…

…and in moments, you had him in your grasp.

Almost instantly, Echo gasped, nearly choking as his drenched mouth broke away from your pussy.

“Ah… w-what… what are you…” he uttered, trying to form the words between his moans. But you quickly shushed him, settling your hips back onto his face once again and beckoning for his mouth to take you with a grind of your hips.

“Shh, it’s all right, handsome. I’ve got you…” you cooed. Your free hand continued caressing his head, while the other began to gently pump him with the Force. A smirk found your lips. “You promised me five more minutes, didn’t you? I know you’ll be a good boy and keep that promise…”

You can’t say what had Echo’s face more red—the way you were getting him off, or the sultry sweet praise you showered him with. Either way, he fell into this new pleasure quickly enough, lapping at you with renewed hunger while his hips desperately thrusted into the air.

With all the diligence of a perfect soldier, Echo kept true to his word, his tongue driving you into a stupor over and over again. All the while, you worked his length with the Force, pumping his length ever so gently—enough to drive him to his breaking point, but never past it. Each time you coaxed his cock with the perfect touch, feeling in the Force that he neared his end, you would release your hold on him—and he would be quite vocal about his distress from his safehaven between your thighs.

But as the night grew darker—as the sheen of sweat coated your trembling forms—you knew you couldn’t last much longer. Your dripping wetness painted the insides of your thighs and smothered your lover’s face, and all the same, Echo’s cock throbbed and ached. Both of you were desperate to cum, and try as you might to hold out, you couldn’t help but want to spoil that adorable man beneath you.

“Echo…!” you breathed. Gently, you tightened your thighs around his face and pressed your pussy against his mouth in the way you knew made him dizzy with delight. “Ah... please, make me come...! Good boy...”

As you rode him, you pumped him faster, feeling in the Force the way his cock twitched and swelled with excitement. With one last swirl of Echo’s tongue around your clit, the anticipation tightening within you finally unraveled. Your body seized as pulses of pleasure tore through you, and you came hard on Echo’s face.

From beneath you, Echo groaned loudly. His hips bucked desperately into the air one last time before he came, spraying hot strings of cum onto his chest and your back. Once he finished, you lowered your hand, releasing him from your Force grip. Trembling with exhaustion, he practically collapsed beneath you.

As you dismounted Echo’s face, he gasped for air, chest heaving even as you settled down beside him in the bed. His wide, golden eyes stared hard at the ceiling, as if he couldn’t believe he had survived such a taxing endeavor.

But before you could check in on him, he pulled your body close to his, meeting you in a fierce and desperate kiss. His tongue delved between your lips, and you could taste yourself on him.

When he finally broke away, he had to catch his breath again—but with his forehead on yours, he donned the biggest, warmest grin you think you’ve ever seen from your usually grumpy ARC trooper.

“I… I-I thought I was going to die,” he rasped. “Oh, kriff… we need to do that again.”

You laughed, pressing a sweet kiss to his nose as you draped your arms around his neck.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you had such a good time,” you sighed. But after a moment, a mischievous smirk appeared on your lips. “Although…”

Echo’s eyes pleaded with yours. “What?”

With a gentle flex of your fingers, the Force just barely brushed against Echo’s overstimulated cock—forcing a hiss from between his teeth as his body jerked in surprise.

“I still expect you to fuck me, sweetheart,” you whispered into his ear, kissing softly on his neck soon after.

With a wide, hazy smile, Echo could only chuckle. 

“You know I will, beautiful,” he promised. Sighing deeply, he laid on his back once more. “Just… give me five more minutes.”

Rolling your eyes, you found a small smile, making yourself comfortable against the chest of the man you adored more than anything.

AN: Thank you for reading!! please let me know if I missed anything in tags/warnings especially for a nsfw fic but most of all I hope u enjoyed!!~~✨✨

#tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #reader insert #reader #echo x reader #the bad batch echo x reader #Echo/Reader #W6Fic #redo bc I accidentally biffed the formatting in the first upload lol soz QQ

[mhsdatgo]

To the point about Rhaenyra being boring, it continues to elude me why the producers, writers, and directors decided they needed to humanize Rhaenyra by downplaying if not outright removing her worst traits. That’s not humanizing, that’s sanitizing.

There are plenty of female characters that exist in fiction who are frustrating to morally ambiguous, to completely evil but still have their fans and are beloved, or at the very least compelling. The comparisons to Shiv Roy from Succession already exist, so I won’t belabor that point, but look at other shows like Mr. Robot, Better Call Saul, and if anyone really wants to press the button for feminism: The Handmaid’s Tale. Those shows have incredibly well-written female characters that aren’t necessarily paragons.

House of the Dragon choosing to center Rhaenyra as the protagonist as opposed to making her part of a true ensemble a la the original Game of Thrones wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The narrative decision to frame her as heroic (as far as S1 is concerned) is how we get the ‘Protagonist Centered Morality/Unreliable Narrator’ trope that results in plenty of media literate fans that are either neutral or Green-leaning who feel frustrated that there’s not an equal balance between characters.

Perfectly put together, anon. I'm sorry I answered so late. -_-

There's nothing wrong with characters that are written to be good people, but you see, that only works when said character is written consistently and somewhat realistically. Something that the writers completely didn't do in Rhaenyra's case. Are you going to tell me I'm supposed to watch her go through Visenya's traumatic birth, which by the way, happened so quickly after learning that her father was dead, keep her calm, and find it believable?

There is no sense of reason when it comes to grief. None. When someone close to you is gone, you check out. They take a part of your mind away with them and sometimes you don't even realize it. Especially if it's as horrid, as painful and helpless as what Rhaenyra went through. I am not going to sit here and blame the Greens for that baby's death, for all we know of her she had dragon features and was 100% going to die either way. That is digestible for us viewers/readers, who have no connection for a baby mentioned in a few lines.

But Rhaenyra's her mother. And rightfully, when she loses her this way, she goes mad with grief. She wants someone to blame, she cannot cope with the idea that there is no one to blame in this situation, that it would've happened either way. So she blames her enemies, the Greens. She isn't right, but she isn't even sane anymore, she's just had a stillbirth, how can you expect her to think before she speaks?

But the show strips her completely of this anger, and makes her push for peace. Is it possible that not even THAT can make this perfect angel Qween lose her temper like any human would? I understand wanting to rid her of any sin so she looks like a Saint, but really, where's the flaw in being angry and irrational after your stillbirth?

I never liked Rhaenyra as a person but I was looking forward (I'm STILL looking forward lol) to the role she will play as a character, a literary device, a tool to tell a story. I'm not saying I hope they bring out the worst of her this season so more people have reasons to hate women and feel justified for it, but LET HER BE RIGHTFULLY ANGRY. I'M BEGGING YOU.

People will always choose and be more obsessed with the evil but interesting one, not the one who's got more morals. It's already been said in a post I saw not so long ago, but Luke shouldn't be winning polls for best character against OTTO HIGHTOWER of all people because we choose morality in none other than a world like ASOIAF. Please give characters nuance. There's so much potential they got lazy with using timeskips etc. already.

#house of the dragon #fire and blood #rhaenyra targaryen

[i-politely-disagree]

Sprace- Call

MODERN AU TW: Swearing??

(I've never posted on here lol)

Spot cringed as his phone call was answered. Usually, it just went straight to the far too familiar  “Hi it’s Racetrack! Don’t leave a message!” voicemail to hurt him even more with the fact that he was either blocked, or Race was declining all his calls. A harsh ‘What do you want?’ may not have been ideal, but Spot still smiled softly at the sound of his ex’s voice.

"Hey…Race," He started. The same words he had said almost every day a month ago. Throwing his bag down as he got back from work, striking up conversations at 2 a.m even though they both needed to be up early, Starting a call much like this one if anything happened. "Do you still have my white shirt with the sleeves?" 

When Race’s phone displayed Spot’s caller ID, he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe yelling, maybe an explanation that it was a dare, or maybe some tearful confession about how his love never died. Anything with more emotion than requesting an old shirt.

“Um… I’ll look around.” The conversation was too stiff, too formal. Race fiddled with the cuffs of the white shirt that definitely wasn’t Spot’s (it was) that he was wearing and paced around the couch he slept on. 

“What do you need it for?”

He’d never admit it, but Race missed Spot more than he could tell. Hearing his voice again was painful, but something to feel. He had been a mess the last month, living with his best friend, missing sleep and working his ass off to help pay the rent when it was paying the rent that got him into this mess. Spot had walked out after the topic of money had come up, only after many anger-clouded words had been thrown between him and Race. Just thinking about it, Race could taste the regret and adrenaline and feel the knot of codependency tighten as it had done that night when he realized how alone and helpless he was. Even though he hadn’t anticipated a break-up, it wasn’t like Race was expecting-

“A wedding,” Spot answered coldly and quickly. Dwelling on love around him wasn’t going to help him swallow the lump in his throat.

He regretted walking out every day. He knew deep down, that he could’ve walked back in at any moment with nothing fixed, another argument ignored, but weeks passed and Race lost the apartment he could only afford with Spot’s help. Spot lost the one stable thing in his life, the one person he felt like he could talk to, the stupidity, wittiness, energy and affection that came with Race and he missed it more than he was willing to admit. He knew it was his chance to salvage any scraps of a relationship but didn’t know how to begin. 

“I’m sorry.” It was a struggle to force the words out of his mouth, but Spot managed to sound a lot more stable than he felt. 

Race’s reply was so emotionless it hurt. No sadness, not even a quiver in his voice, no hope. Just a bland question reminding Spot he’d made more than enough mistakes;

“About what?” 

“Um, This. Calling you, acting like nothing’s happened, acting like I don’t care.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone and Spot knew he would have to address the elephant in the room.

“...And leaving. I was- I am so stupid for walking out. It sounds pathetic but I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I really lo- I really loved you.” 

Race’s soft smile threatened to fall at the use of past tense.  His mind tried to object, but a smirk tugged at his lips and words crawled out.

“You miss me.”  He observed, a mix of teasing and astonishment now unmistakable in his voice

“No, I just really want my shirt,” Spot said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as if Race could see him over the phone.  “Yes, I fucking miss you.”

Spot hated himself for giving in that easily. But at the same time, he knew lying wasn’t going to get him anywhere or anyone for that matter.

Warm hope bloomed through Race at the less-than-heartfelt confession, sudden longing for the one person he thought he’d never be allowed to long for again. A million hazy emotions flew through his mind but he couldn’t articulate everything he was feeling and couldn’t force every heavy sentiment through the phone. He needed to know this was genuine before pouring his heart out. 

Spot’s finger was over the ‘End Call’ button when Race interrupted their silence, “But you said-”

“I said a lot of things,” Spot cut him off, “We both did. But I’d bet this month's rent you didn’t mean half of it.” 

Race wanted to object, but it was true. He hadn’t meant anything close. And while he prayed to every god that he wouldn’t regret it again, heavy words slid off his tongue;

“I miss you too. But look, we can’t just…go back to whatever we had a month ago.”

“Bad communication and not-yet-healed commitment issues?”

Race exhaled deeply, “Yeah, that. But I can’t- I mean- I’ve got your shirt. Please just come and get it so we can at least talk in person.” 

Spot running down apartment stairs full speed to reunite with his ex-boyfriend was probably something countless medical professionals would advise against but, quite frankly, he was more than willing to break a wrist or two for another shot. He managed a couple of breathless words that were essentially just ‘See you soon’ before falling into his car in a haze of nerves and emotions pretty damn close to excitement. Serious conversations weren’t his forté but were better than a familiar voicemail.

#sprace #newsies #newsies fanfiction #spot x race #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #fanfiction #my fic

[carlos-in-glasses]

Carlos-in-Glasses Goes to Paris

For prosperity I’ve written up my experience of the First Responders Reunion Convention – which is my first convention experience. And what an overwhelmingly good and stressful time it was. Under the cut is my attempt to capture my memories and the essence of it, rather than a transcription of panels and meeting rooms, as others have already done the good work (or will be). I hope you find this interesting and useful if you do read, and if you have any specific questions (including about travelling alone/logistics/issues I had) I’ll do my best to provide a coherent answer.

I am very tired and this is slightly manic but here we go:

Friday: If you are among those who waited in line for three hours to register for the convention, even if I did not see or interact with you….I feel we are spiritually bonded forever by the experience. Blimey, crikey, and bloody hell. It was not clear at all how long the wait would be, but I was not expecting that! However, there was an undeniable thrill in the air. I was in pain all over, yet happy. By the late evening, dinner was half a tube of Pringles and a glass of red wine.

Saturday: Breakfast was four croissants. I actually recommend this because they really did carry me through until lunch. Not long after arriving, we were milling about in the lobby waiting for the opening ceremony to begin - when Ronen walked past up on the mezzanine/ balcony thing, waving to us, all fabulous and just….there in the flesh?!!!...and revealing his hair. We’d speculated that he’d dyed it pink or the bisexual pride flag colours, or “wouldn’t it be funny if it’s just brown?!” And it was brown! And it WAS Funny.

The opening ceremony was a trip lol. Holy shit. They played a music video compilation of the actors from each show (I never want to hear How to Save a Life by The Fray ever again. Jk jk don’t come for meee). There was an undulation of incredibly loud screaming whenever particular actors popped up on screen, so it was like being on a rollercoaster that wasn’t moving. Adrenaline was high by the time all the actors walked out on stage and say hello. It’s hard to explain exactly how bonkers it is to be in the same physical space as Ronen, Rafa, Sierra and Natacha and see their non-TV dimensions… TANGENT TIME:

….Speaking of dimensions! I tried to pay close attention to the height difference between Ronen and Rafa, but it’s also an optical illusion in real life? FYI, I’m 5 ft 7 – Ronen didn’t seem massively taller than me, Rafa did seem massively taller than me; next to each other it was like there was nothing in it. But in my photos they’re both much taller than me and Ronen looks slightly the biggest I think 🤔 So I have no clue what’s going on. In fact, I’m more confused than ever.

After the opening ceremony (which I fled from because fuuuck) I was waiting around due to rocking up early for my meeting room by accident. The schedule was a confusing design and I was far from the only person who was doing a sort of 'hit-and-hope' when it came to figuring out where to be and when, especially as things almost immediately overran, so other activities got moved around/ postponed. ANYWAY – Ronen walked right past with a member of staff who was instructing him. I overheard him tell her “It’s okay…I’m a pro at this.” He really did wander around like he owned the place. At one point he strolled through the lobby with an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

My first activity was the meeting room with Ronen and Rafa (ie. a group of a set number of people in a room with actors for half an hour). By chance it turned out that I was sitting almost right next to them, with a gap left for the door between us. So, super close. And obviously they were both mesmerising. This was the meeting room where Rafa said “To catch the murderer, Carlos has to behave like one”, and explained that Carlos would have to murder parts of himself. His emphasis was on how Carlos’ innocence has been taken from him because his father’s life was stolen. For what it’s worth, I interpreted this as Rafa viewing the whole thing very much from an dramatic actor’s standpoint, and how he needs to get into the mindset of Carlos’ particular grief metaphorically, rather than meaning anything literal. He speaks quite intensely and thoughtfully and his choice of words is often bold. For anyone concerned about it, just remember he was asked a question and responded off the cuff the best he could in the moment, with limited time. He doesn’t write the show and I guess he’s making assumptions based on how season 4 left off, like the rest of us, unless he’s had very specific conversations with Tim (which, maybe! But he wouldn’t be able to give anything away. We don’t know anything). Then, when Ronen brought up TK dying (because Ronen always dies in the films/TV he does – using an axe to the chest as an example) it was pointed out that Tarlos is endgame, so he can’t die. Cue Rafa being like “Carlos could die with him! They die together!” I was like goodness me lads it’s early in the morning for this. I needed a brandy afterwards.

Next up was my Tarlos Duo Photoshoot. As noted above, everything had fallen behind schedule, and things were starting to get switched around. Honestly, it was confusing, daunting and stressful (please note: Am VERY easily confused, daunted, and stressed). But thanks to the power of following others and asking questions, I ended up where I needed to be. When it was my turn, Rafa immediately and warmly put his arm around me to pose but Ronen was talking to a staff member, so Rafa and I were just… touching each other for a good few seconds before Ro joined us! I took the opportunity to thank Rafa for doing this for us, but I can’t remember how he responded. Then the photo was taken. I told them they’re both amazing, they said “aw thanks” at the same time, and again I fled the scene. As there are so many people, the shoot you have is super speedy. I advise really trying to keep your cool even though it’s a highly flustering situation. You don’t want it to become a total blur or something you regret, because it really is lovely to be next to them and quickly say a few words and get a keepsake afterwards.

My next activity was autographs and selfies with Natacha and Sierra. A super lovely thing. I gave them cards I'd written (as I also did for Rafa and Ronen the next day). Sierra was an absolute highlight for me. Just the warmest, kindest person. A total joy. She opened her card in front of me and I was like nooooo don't. It truly felt like she’d come to the convention for the opportunity to meet us, rather than the other way around. She told me she liked my outfit and said I look beautiful in pink. Similar to what I said to Rafa, I thanked her and told her I can’t imagine what it’s like for them to do this, expecting her to quickly say “oh you’re welcome” or something. But she started having a mini-philosophical conversation with me about the nature of fame and fandom! Then she said “it is overwhelming in the best way” because she gets to see the human heart behind all the messages etc (I’m paraphrasing). I said “it’s all about love” and she said “yes! It’s all about love, absolutely.” She was a true delight. And Natacha is a blast. She also complimented my pink outfit and I was like ???? Thanks????!!! Gahhh. The selfies came out way more flattering than the photoshoot. The lighting. Oof.

The last Saturday thing for me was the panel with Ronen and Rafa. It was quite brief but there were some real gems. Rafa saying he only has eyes for Tarlos. Ronen saying “Safe in their apartment holding on to each other. I think Carlos is TK’s honeymoon.” I melted. I let our an audible aww.

Sunday: The first thing was a Lone Star quiz in the panel room with Natacha and Sierra. They were so fun and such good sports. Then it was the Lone Star panel, where Natacha, Sierra, Ronen and Rafa were all on stage together answering fan questions. It was really nice to see them all interact, banter and laugh together. Sierra made a point of saying they’re all close in real life and hang out in their free time. There was a great vibe between them and such a good atmosphere in the room. I loved it when Rafa told Ronen that he was out of rhythm when it came to learning the pilot episode line dance; Ronen argued that he smashed it and there's video evidence. Rafa's response was "Sweetie, no."

I then had the autograph and selfie sessions with Rafa and Ronen, but because the Lone Star panel overran, suddenly Ronen had his photoshoot session instead, so I had a clash between going to that or staying downstairs for Rafa. I was trying to figure out what to do until the queen that is @actuallysara got some clarity from a staff member and we went up to Ronen, but by that point the upper level by the studio was crowded and chaotic. Be advised to prepare for disarray if you’ve never been to a convention before. It might be that you experience no scheduling issues or confusion, but just be prepared for the advent anyway. As it happened, I was through quickly for my photo with Ronen – again thanks to Sara locating the door! Ronen, hungover, was wearing his sunglasses, so I wore mine. He did a dumb pose without saying anything; I grinned at the camera and then thanked him and ran off again to get back downstairs where Rafa was still signing autographs. I got to tell him he plays my favourite character of all time and we took a selfie I really love ahhhh. Then Rafa had to leave for his photoshoot – which was my next thing – so I ran back upstairs and was one of the first in line! So I was like “heeey nice to see you again so soon…!” He remembered my name – I guess because he’d only just written it down 😅 I thanked him for the 10th time – just couldn’t stop thanking everyone like I’d caught a disease where the symptom is permanent gratitude. THEN I ran downstairs to do the autograph and selfie with Ronen, who was running late – so that got postponed to the afternoon after we’d already waited a long while. When it did happen it was great - I can't remember what I said to him but I assume it was polite and made sense – although a chaotic queuing system again ensued. A whole long line of us were crushed together in the heat. I had an Aperpol spritz after and when I tell you I’d never needed a drink like that more…

That was it for my paid activities! Unknown to me at the time, my final glimpse of Ronen, Rafa, Sierra and Natacha was when I was sitting on the floor eating Ritz Crackers while they were wandering past on their way to/from whatever they were doing next. It felt so normal to see them around at that point. We gathered for the closing ceremony, thinking we’d see all the actors on stage once more for a goodbye, but the ceremony had to happen without any of the actors because of running late. So, I cherish my ‘seeing them in the hallway’ memories.

Overall feelings and would I do it again? If you’ve never been to a convention before but want to, do go into it with open eyes: There’s potentially a lot of waiting around and standing in line for a long time in a hot space (sometimes the line is more like a shapeless crowd and you don’t know where it begins and ends). Some of the activities are quite rushed. They fall behind schedule easily and you have to be agile about where to go next and what to do. The Dream It team worked super hard and could do with employing more staff in stewarding roles, ideally wearing something that identifies them as such (the staff blended in with the visitors of the convention). But I don’t know the economics of their staffing situation so maybe they can’t grow the team. Anyway, having more signs up also would have been useful. When you do get your moment with Ronen, Rafa, Sierra, Natacha though – or whoever you have come to see – it really is beautiful and meaningful.

Right now, I’m flipflopping – but mainly I think once is enough for me, unless they come to a convention the UK. There’s a couple of aspects I’d like to ‘do over,’ but perhaps not enough to try to recreate the magic a second time, given the expense of it?? That might change over the coming months – we’ll see! I went to this convention with the goal of meeting Ronen and Rafa (with Natacha and a Sierra being a glorious bonus as I booked it long before they were announced as guests) to tell them in person thank you and I love you – and I achieved that. I do think it was worth my money, but it is very expensive and tiring. I was lucky to be in a good position to pay for it this year, which might not be the case going forward. You really need to be able to afford to do it, and genuinely want to do it, knowing you’re paying money for something that is going to have some hard and challenging aspects as well as the amazing and joyful. Personally, I love that I went once. I didn’t love the Super Endurance Test of 2023 that was standing in line for three hours on Friday after travelling hahaaaaaa god. I loved the selfies and autograph sessions. I didn’t love the photoshoot outcomes but I loved that I’ve had Rafa’s large hand on my shoulder because I'm slutty so. I love that I looked into both his and Ronen’s eyes and told them how great they are. I love that I uploaded my selfie with Rafa to my instastory and he viewed it, so there’s just a line of my friends’ names, then actuallyrafa, then a line of my friends’ names 🤣

I also want to note that in real life, compared to footage of them in interviews/insta lives/wherever, I think you get even more of a sense of just how different they are to their characters. It made me respect them all even more than I already did, which I didn’t think was possible. They are SO talented.

BUT most importantly: The reason why this was so brilliant was @actuallysara, without whom I wouldn’t have thought I could travel alone to Paris and do this at all. Sara, meeting you and giving you a big hug was also the dream. You are so helpful and knowledgeable and kind ,and once again your flags were a fantastic idea and I’m so happy I got to sign them. I hope I get to see you again very soon. Thank you from the depths of my soul. @meditating-honey-badger (and your fabulous companion…!) it was a true delight to hang out, and chill out, and have such funny and deep conversations. You are an absolute light and I loved meeting you. I hope so much to see you again too. Like Sara, it could never be too soon. And @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut. What can I say. What can I possibly say. I want to make drinking on rooftop bars while talking about writing our thing. I’ve never done that with anyone else. We really went through this side by side and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I already miss you and I thank you too. You are, in fact, the warmest doughnut in town. All of you, forever ❤️. You made it what it was.

(Digitally applied giant aviator sunglasses and some editing so the Tarlos duo photoshoot doesn't count as a face reveal. Thank you also to the lovely people who made bracelets and handed them out.)

#dream it convention #first responders reunion #Tarlos #First convention experience

[sneezemonster15]

Hey, thank you so much for answering my previous ask. I love reading your blog and what you have to say. Also I forgot to mention the person who thinks Sasuke fucked Karin also talked about what you said on your blog with someone else, https://dushman-e-jaan.tumblr.com/post/663748673413464064/i-saw-a-post-where-anyone-who-says-that-sasuke-and I'm pretty sure that's your post bc I read it. They're basically making fun of the whole thing and again slapping the "brothers" label onto practically everything you said 😭 What are your thoughts on this?

Hello.

Woah, yeah, that is my post. I wrote it a long time ago, I had no clue that they got this triggered by it, that they went through it line by line, as a response to me, replying to every statement I made in second person and didn’t even tag me. If it weren’t for your ask, I would never have found out about it. Well, I am going to take it as a compliment, whether they like it or not. Lol. 

I don’t generally write my content to defend my takes, I give all the reasoning and cite evidence within my posts, and if someone has a problem with it, I generally reply to them in the comment box. But since this aforementioned post seems like it has gone some way into the anti SNS fandom, and because I wasn’t even aware of it, I will address some of these issues. 

Okay. Gear up, this is going to be long.

First things first. They are offended because they don’t agree with my statement :

“Well, at least you are being consistent. Because people who think Sasuke and Naruto are brothers are the same people who think Sakura and Hinata are feminist role models.”  

And they want to make it clear that there are other fans who don’t think highly of Sakura and Hinata, but still consider Sasuke and Naruto brothers. Well, I will give them that. I am aware there are additional fans who consider them brothers, CASE IN POINT. My bad. 

Honestly, there’s a lot of stuff here, that just doesn’t require my response. Like my mention of Tarkovsky. It was used as a figure of speech by which I wanted to say that decoding Sasuke and Naruto’s romance wasn’t rocket science, it’s a straight statement, I don’t know why they gotta twist it. I think the mention of Tarkovsky threw them off, because they feel that only they have the authority to talk about more brainy things. Lol. So I am going to sidestep all the fountains of their insecurities and come to the point. 

Okay so, they insist that Sasuke and Naruto are spiritual brothers, mainly because their chakras are reincarnation of Indra and Ashura’s chakras who happen to be biological brothers. And they take great offence to my statement that people who think of them as brothers are heteronormative and homophobic. I will come to that part later, I will address the reincarnation part first. 

I honestly thought we were past this non-sensical and juvenile non-argument of them being brothers for the aforementioned reason. These antis use such big words and cite academic papers and articles and then, flip right over to say something so counterintuitive and irrational, without even considering any alternative understanding, it hardly seems like an argument and more like intellectual masturbation. Which it is. 

Okay. This is their argument to support their stance. 

“However, this story includes chakra, Indra, Ashura and is very much tied to spirituality. Buddhism, Hinduism and Jainism deal with that. Kishimoto took his inspiration from there.Hindu scriptures exhort spiritual people to lead exemplary lives, control their sexual desires and abstain from sex, just as they are expected to control all desires and practice renunciation and detachment with their minds absorbed in the contemplation of God or the Self.” 

And it doesn’t stop there, this rambling goes on and on and on…phew. I appreciate the amount of effort they have seemed to put in their arguments. Sadly, it's all as misguided as it can be, lol. 

While I agree that one can see the myriad influences of various philosophical schools of thought and spiritual belief systems in Kishimoto’s work, NONE of it proves their brother argument. Why? Because it’s all out of context. I see this a lot, the pitfalls and trappings of sticking to one’s projection in one’s favourite piece of art/literature and bending text and context to their will, with citations, whether it’s relevant or not. 

Such mental gymnastics, lol. I have seen this kind of response by student film theorists when they analyse Ozu's films. Oh why did he put that vase in the centre of the frame, what did he want to say by showing that vase? Did he mean to depict loneliness or does it indicate the effects of capitalism and consumerism in an insular, collectivist, traditional Japanese society of the times, or is it about the soul that is trapped in the material prison of flesh etc etc etc. Over analyzation. Which they apparently have accused me of, hahaha. 

Unfortunately, that’s not how storytelling works. And it definitely doesn’t work in Naruto’s case. They would do well to remember that writers are not out to con you. Any writer worth his salt uses a combination of narrative tools to tell his story. Sad thing is most fans in this fandom just don’t understand how stories are written, the specific tools that a writer uses and the narrative devices that guide and lend a certain flow and approach to the story. Kishi is just like any other writer, in that context. So when he wants to give a certain narrative or visual information to the audience, he will use these common tools to drive his point home. For example, foreshadowing. What is foreshadowing? 

Sourced from Wikipedia : 

“Foreshadowing is a literary device in which a writer gives an advance hint of what is to come later in the story. Foreshadowing often appears at the beginning of a story, or a chapter, and it helps the reader develop expectations about the upcoming events. A writer may implement foreshadowing in many different ways.”

And do we see this foreshadowing in Kishi’s plot? You bet, :).

And this is Chapter 3. Lol.

If Kishi wanted to depict Naruto and Sasuke as brothers, he would not have made them kiss. Even if accidentally. This scene, right at the start of the manga, indicates the very romantic nature of their relationship. I wonder why these stans don’t find it suspicious that even though this kiss is supposed to be accidental, both Naruto and Sasuke think of this kiss as a precious memory, not as a joke, but something significant, something that contributed to develop their dynamic in the manga. I have seen hundreds and hundreds of films in my life, but I have never seen anywhere where two likely brothers were made to kiss like this, for the sake of developing their dynamic. Only in romantic relationships. 

Let me state it out in as clear words as possible. - In a macro sense, the overarching narrative of this manga includes a clear intention by the author to push the characters of Naruto and Sasuke to give an appropriate name to their relationship, continuously harping on defining and redefining their relationship with plot points strategically appointed to affect their dynamic that further propels the central narrative of the story.

Simply put, Kishi forcefully insists on weaving this story in a way that forces the protagonist to think and rethink the meaning of what he feels for Sasuke, as instigated by Sasuke himself, who every time they meet, insists Naruto answer his question as to why Narutio is so hell bent upon following him, why does he care so much so that he is ready to leave his training and the people he loves behind, just to bring Sasuke back. And everytime Naruto even breathes the word ‘friends’ or ‘brothers’, Sasuke’s either annoyed or surprised or displeased, never satisfied, never convinced. The satisfaction comes at the end of the manga, in chapter 698, when Naruto finally gives some explanation as to what he means by it. Shippuden didn’t end with the war arc, it ended with Sasuke and Naruto’s reconciliation. It didn’t end on the note of an ideological conflict and its eventual resolution, it ended on the note where Sasuke asked Naruto :  But what does being friends mean to you?

And Naruto said with a clear sense that he understands what Sasuke is asking of him and so after thinking for a very pregnant pause, says : Even if you were to ask me that, I don’t think I would have an answer. But when I see you carrying your burden, it hurts me, so much so that I just can’t take it. 

You really don’t need a PhD to see the nuanced significance of this text.

Point is, this going back and forth trying to define their relationship is not an isolated incident, it basically makes the backbone of the story. Which is why the aforementioned dialogues make sense, as they form the conclusion of this story.  If they were brothers, why would this element exist?

Everything in the story serves to contribute to the central narrative and for the sake of character development of its main players. 

That Kishi saw a need to even discuss why they were not friends, and that they were not brothers, but that Naruto feels immense hurt at seeing Sasuke hurt, is indicative enough that Kishi was definitely not trying to portray them as brothers. That these stans consider them brothers, when this art made by Kishimoto himself exists, is proof enough that they are highly indulgent of their self projections.

They are so motivated, for their own projections, to ignore the nuanced characterization of Naruto’s closeted gay self, or Sasuke’s oft pointed disinterest in women, that their understanding comes off as extremely lacking.

Ask yourself, why would Kishi even write these nuances in the way of visual imagery and strategic scenes where Naruto is made to react so strongly to even mild and unintentioned homoerotic moments? Why would Naruto be written to overcompensate to cover these moments up with something distinctly heterosexual? Why would Kishi even put so much effort in writing these characters this way if Kishi only wanted to portray them as brothers? What would even be the point of it?

Every single chapter goes through multilayered scrutiny by editors after it’s written, which means anything that is unnecessary or extraneous to the narrative is taken out. It’s supposed to be concise, and yet have the desired effect on the readers. Why keep those texts or panels that don’t serve the story? Instead, why do these elements serve to develop the characters? They obviously mean something, don't they? They are there for a reason, and anyone who has seen the portrayal of homosexuality in media will instantly recognise it. Those who haven’t can at least wonder why and venture to find out instead of giving their relationship names that are incongruent with their actual dynamic. 

No other brotherly dynamic in the manga itself is even close to Naruto and Sasuke’s. Honestly, I have seen so much Japanese media outside of manga and anime in the last year, and I didn't see two men or boys depicted as brothers who make kissy faces at each other, or stand side by side looking like they are giving each other hand jobs and orgasming, or where one man’s mouth is deliberately drawn over another man’s crotch. To say that this indicates they were depicted as brothers, is not only counterintuitive, but downright ridiculous and plain stupid. It’s some real heavy duty denial. 

If Kishimoto meant for them to be brothers because their chakras were reincarnation of Ashura and Indra, he would have made some character say it out loud in some context. Like I said, writers are not out there to con you. They will make sure that their intent is clearly shown to the audience, through text, subtext and visual language. And everything about Naruto and Sasuke, everything that contributes to their dynamic, whether it be dialogues, orchestrated situations, plot points, visual imagery, some of which exudes sexual tension, in no way indicates a platonic relationship. Those who have the presence of mind to pick it, will pick it, those who don’t would spout non-sense like our antis here. Lol.

Kishimoto knows how to use foreshadowing. Case in point.

He gives us an advance hint of what’s to come, and the narrative takes its twists and turns, being developed with this thread in mind, and then the arc ends with a conclusion of the underlying idea foreshadowed earlier with the hint. NONE of this is accidental. It’s all part of writing, it’s a literary tool, a narrative device. Hell, it isn’t a coincidence that Kishimoto keeps repeating this element over and over and over again, where Naruto goes through a whole range of situations and emotional upheavals in order to understand his feelings for Sasuke. First, he wonders if Sasuke is like a brother, or a friend, or more. Kishi can’t say it explicitly, but honestly, he doesn’t need to. These antis look for all sorts of reasoning and proof OUTSIDE the manga. If they were a little more honest with themselves, they would see that one really doesn’t need to do that, all the pertinent information that one needs to decode the nature of their relationship is inside the manga, in panels, visual imagery, dialogues, narrative development and notes.

Like I always say : First rule of deduction : Work with what you have. Facts, use what’s is available to you in the source material. 

It is absolutely valid to look for outside source if you see a solid and legitimate reason to, which is congruent with the source material, like in the case of Chikamatsu. It’s already established clearly that Kishimoto is his fan, he has put a lot of effort to pay tribute to him in his own manga, he makes sure that this element is clearly present in the context and text, and the editors have talked about it in the notes. And ALL of that makes it a legit link, for one to connect it with Shinjuu. 

The antis talk of irrelevant sources such as Jainism and Hinduism and whatnot, lol, it honestly looks like a super desperate attempt to twist and deform and bend the narrative to their interpretation where they conveniently ignore all the relevant panels where Naruto clearly says that him and Sasuke aren’t really brothers to Hagoromo, where Sasuke makes it a point to say to Sai that he only has one brother, clearly implying that he doesn’t consider Naruto a brother. All these extra interpretations that antis force upon the narrative is a result of their own projection. It's as simple as that.

If Sasuke was satisfied with the explanation that they were brothers, why would he keep asking Naruto the same question again and again? Doesn’t that indicate that he isn’t satisfied with Naruto’s understanding of it? And he is only convinced of it at the very end, when Naruto is bleeding out, about to die, when he finally, with much visible reticence, admits that he doesn’t know how to explain it?

Think about it, if they were just brothers, why would there be this hesitation? Being brothers is not a controversial thing, it’s not a taboo thing, it’s not abnormal, opposite in fact, given how much the characters of this story are shaped by their familial bonds. Instead of thinking of the most obvious things, these antis round up obscure and entirely irrelevant articles to sound smart and intellectual, as if that’s gonna make a difference. How is this extraneous intellectual regurgitation gonna help your case if your basic premise is wrong? That’s not how dialectics work. Lol. 

Then they said this.:  “(Considering Ino to be a closeted queer who only went for Sasuke to gain Sakura’s affections would be another one of these hilarious mishaps.)”

I honestly don’t know who they are referring to, because I have never said or implied anything even close to it. Maybe they are just assuming things. It’s not the only time they assume things. They also think I am some Western Man with my capitalistic and consumerist takes on Naruto. hahahaha. 

Damn, I can't help but notice that whenever someone disagrees with them, they instantly label them as Western. Well, they are wrong on both counts, because neither am I western, nor a man. In fact, my socio-cultural understanding of the world is pretty close to Japan’s. I would also like to mention that my community practises the same religion that happens to be the official religion of Japan. But of course, I have never needed to flex on that, because it’s just not needed. The information that I got from the manga itself, plus my own experience of media is enough for me to make my points. I am able to qualify my content with the evidence found INSIDE the manga, and if I see clearly delineated references to outside material in it, I point them out. Like I have done here. 

Honestly, it’s as simple as that. No need to twist your head at a 180 degrees to prove your point, if you are trying that hard, it becomes clear you have no legit leg to stand on and you are making shit up, just to validate your headcanon.

Don’t act against intuition, don’t act against text and visual language, don’t act against what is both explicitly and implicitly given in the manga because that is the opposite of examining something objectively. But well, people do worse to keep sticking to their denial.

Anyway, this foreshadowing can be seen in the first arc, where the central theme is ‘protecting one’s precious person’ and how one can unlock special hidden strengths when one is motivated to protect the person most dear to them. This element is foreshadowed in the relationship between Zabuza and Haku and through twists and turns, is finally concluded at the end of the arc, where Sasuke almost dies to protect Naruto and both unlock special powers for each other. Not rocket science. Kishi is a generous author that way, he wants this reader to know what he is saying and what he means by it, and so he will supply enough textual and visual information to make sense of the overarching story and themes. To simply ignore that for one’s head canons is a gross injustice to the story and the artist. If you have to ignore what he is saying explicitly or drawing explicitly, why even bother to engage with this manga? lol. What a waste.

It is not a complicated thing at all, in fact, it would have become a lot easier for Kishimoto to write this story if he could just have explicitly written them as brothers, a lot of effort would have been spared, no? And it would have all been believable, because it makes total sense that Naruto would want to save and protect his brother. The story would not change at all. Then why the hammer like insistence on having this whole brother or friend or comrade dialectic? Why? You know why? 

Because they are NOT brothers. 

Next, they said this : The problem with a lot of western readers is that they discard any and all relationships, familial and platonic, in favor of their romantic obsessions and delusions of “freedom” in a capitalistic society,................... ... the widespread consumption of amorous rituals constitutes the core of contemporary romantic love, reinvigorating capitalism and lovers alike.” 

And this goes on and on….I am not going to put the entire thing here, it’s basically unnecessary blathering and intellectual masturbation. 

Snickers, Delusions of freedom in a capitalistic society. Bwahaha. Where is this even coming from? Entirely irrelevant. Reminds me of my younger self when I would deliberately attach esoteric sounding citations to my papers to impress the professor and would still get a B. Lol.

I have written enough on the subject of the importance of familial bonds which shape the characters in this manga, so they are definitely wrong on that count. But well, they think they are the authority on Japanese media, what can I say? Sidestepping what’s actually in the manga and supplementing your argument with entirely disproportionate and irrelevant pointers only indicates that they are floundering. When you have no legit foundation for your argument, this happens. Lmao. I am no stranger to it, thankfully I got over it in my teens.

Then they claimed this : (Remember, Kishimoto comes from a very small village and is from a different generation altogether; so the odds of him penning anything even close to the “sexual categorizations” of the post-modern western sexual-domains are less than the second coming of Christ.)

Hahahahahaaha, I know you can’t tell, but I am literally wheezing here. 

These stans literally talk like Kishimoto is a hundred year old man. Like…the lack of reason and logic in this statement is so apparent, I am surprised that they thought it would be worthwhile to make this comment. Lol. Sexual categorizations of the post-modern western sexual-domains??? What crap!!! Hahahah. Just say you are a straight homophobic woman who wants Sasuke’s dick and go! 

So what if Kishi comes from a small village and a different generation? Does that mean he doesn’t know what homosexuality means? He doesn’t know sexual categorizations of the post-modern western sexual domains? What a bunch of hooey, lol. These stans talk of homosexuality like it’s some kind of western propaganda. Go ahead, tell me it’s not homophobic, heh. PoSt mODerN WEsteRn SexUal DomaiNs. Lololol.

Truth is, pre Meiji era, Japan was perhaps the most progressive of all cultures when it came to sexual categorizations. Here, this post is educational. Funny how these stans call SNS western and then do the same thing that most western fans do, who know absolutely nothing about history of sexuality in Japan. Here, they should maybe learn about it before sounding this ignorant, the video is pretty self-explanatory. 

Edo period Japanese culture accepted homosexuality as the purest form of love that could exist between two samurais. Young men were allowed and even encouraged to have young male lovers, and after a certain age, they were expected to get married to women. A lot of men chose not to. And even though it was frowned upon,  it wasn't a punishable offence.

Hell, one doesn’t even have to go there, check out Edo and Meiji period art, you will find lots of peculiar, very creative art with homosexuality as its subject. I would put those pictures here, but it would make this post x-rated, lol. The sexual imagery is off the charts, like Japan’s imagination is mind-boggling, like woah. They might be a small country but the scope of their imagination is huge. With the advent of Meiji era, that changed, as homosexuality became illegal, but this art was still produced underground.  

Hell, a lot of the most celebrated artists in Modern Japan have created art about homosexuality. Film makers such as Nagisa Oshima, Takashi Miike (Shinjuku Triad’s Society, Big Bang Love, Juvenile A), Toshio Matsumoto (A funeral Parade of Roses), Akira Ogata (Boy’s Choir, a film about two orphaned boys who study at the same institution, and eventually fall in love with each other), have made excellent cinema on the subject matter. And these aren’t your run of the mill commercial yaoi creators, these are serious film makers whose films have done their rounds in national and international film festivals, earning awards and accolades from critics and audience alike. 

The film, ‘Funeral Parade of Roses’ is a story about a young, gay, cross dressing boy who is in love with his father, a modern day adaptation of Oedipus Rex, only flipped. And this film was released in the 60’s. A product of the Japanese new wave cinema, it is considered to have influenced Stanley Kubrick’s ‘A Clockwork Orange’. It was considered quite a controversial film for its time in the west. It took over forty years for ‘Hereditary’ fame film maker Ari Aster to make a film on the subject, ‘The strange thing about the Johnsons’ in 2011, and the audience was shocked to their core with it. Japan was doing this shit in the 60’s. Lol. Oshima belonged to a small region in the southern Okayama prefecture called Tamano, founded in the 40’s. So? Kishi also belongs from the Okayama prefecture. What, people from small villages remain ignorant throughout their lives? They can't learn? They can’t be exposed to stuff? 

Oshima was a pioneer of Japanese New Wave cinema, going forward to become one of the most celebrated film makers in the world, with a beautifully distinct voice. He made films on themes of homosexuality, and his stories were inspired by real life events in Japan. He made Gohatto, a Jidaigeki film (which basically translates to Japanese period drama, usually set in the Edo period) which is about Samurais lusting after a bishonen boy, training at the Shinsengumi, organization of Samurais. People of Japan are more than familiar with the tales of Shinsengumi, they grew up with it. He made ‘Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence’, which also features homosexual themes, starring David Bowie btw.

Kishimoto wasn’t even born or was of legal age when some of these films were released. Japan was experimenting in the fields of cinema and various subject matters, including unsimulated sex in a legit film.

They think he wouldn’t be aware of these films, Kishimoto who happens to be a film buff himself? Honestly, how insular do these stans think the Japanese are? 

These people talk like the Japanese are some dumb, ignorant group of people, who don’t know shit about what’s going on in the world. Honey, that’s you, not them. Kishi is a well read, well exposed, well rounded writer. 

Like yes, Japan was quite insular at some point of time, but after the second world war, they were forced by the allied nations to open up their borders. And the influence of western elements and themes can be seen in their art. In fact, western influence had already taken roots since Meiji era. The men even had to cut their hair for it. Even kabuki wasn't left alone. And it's not like this is some well kept secret. Kishimoto’s manga is definitely very much Japanese, but it has a cross cultural appeal as well. I don’t think one is doing their due diligence when one simply ignores that factor.

Okay. Let’s talk of Kishimoto’s influences. 

These are a few excerpts from Kishimoto’s interviews, the Western influence is pretty clear. Does this look like some dude who doesn’t know what he is talking about? Does this look like someone who is inert and insular and ignorant?

Look how inspired Kishimoto is by Akira and its mangaka, Katsuhiro Otomo.

For those who don’t know, Akira was the anime that opened up the western markets for Japanese animation and manga. The film was made for the express purpose for Japan to open the western markets for her products, show off their goods to the world, that this is what they can do, and as it turned out, it was better than anything western audiences had ever experienced in terms of animation and storytelling at that point of time.

Cartoons were earlier considered to be for kids, the common perception was that animated media was supposed to be infantile, catering to a certain target audience. Akira changed that perception. The legacy of Akira is humongous. It opened up doors for other animes and mangas such as Dragonball Z, Ghost in the shell, Naruto even. This was the time in late 80’s when Japan was experiencing an overall good economy for the first time in 20th century, their financial shares were soaring. This was the time when corporations had opened up in Japan, and anyone who was ready to become a salary man could take advantage of the financial benefits resulting in significant disposable incomes. So people had more to spend on entertainment, and so production companies were chasing talented mangakas left and right to adapt their work into anime. Japan was so committed to this great enterprise of Akira, they formed a committee to finance the very high budget that a commensurate and successful rendering of the manga’s adaptation would require. The committee consisted of Kodansha, Mainichi Broadcasting System, Bandai, Hakuhodo, Toho, LaserDisc Corporation and Sumitomo Corporation (if you can’t tell, these are big, huge corporations) who all forwarded money and promotion towards the film, and appointed the mangaka himself to direct the film, because who else would be able to tell this story better when so much was at stake?

Otomo worked his ass off, drawing hundreds of storyboards to condense the 120 chapter long manga into one film. And he did it, and what a film it is. Like wow, I was blown away. Akira, being a cyberpunk manga, also has that cross cultural appeal, even though its major themes are still very much Japanese, but if you look closely, this film tells a story the entire world can benefit from.

Kishimoto is inspired by American film makers such as Michael Bay, Quentin Tarantino. He talks of Takeshi Kitano, lovingly known in Japan as Beat Takeshi, a very popular figure in the west, who also was a regular in Oshima’s films, having played major roles in his gay films. These stans think Kishimoto, a cinephile himself, isn’t aware of these films? Bullshit. Lol. A lot of mangakas want their work to be recognized by the entire world, especially in the west. It speaks of their global success, why would they want to just keep to their native audience? 

Truth is, otaku culture evolved in a very specific way. The second world war, especially after Hiroshima and Nagasaki were bombed, drastically affected the ethical and emotional landscape of the collective Japanese psyche. While the reverberations could be seen in their media, unfortunately, it wasn’t in the mainstream media where these effects were manifested, rather it was in alternative media, in the subcultural genres. You don’t have to take my word for it.

Takashi Murakami, a product of Otaku culture himself, talks about this, someone that Kishimoto himself has paid a significant tribute to in his manga (Deidara’s aesthetic is super flat, which is basically a socio-politico-cultural art movement pioneered by Murakami). And I saw for myself what he was talking about. Japan is a collectivist society, there isn’t much freedom for individual expression. Japanese emperor Hirohito, who is directly held to be responsible for the Japanese contribution to second Sino-Japanese war and the second world war by many historians, was considered to be a God by the Japanese, literally. Like Kim Jong Un style. No one questioned him. But after Japan’s role in the war as the predator and subsequently a victim, it broke the Japanese in a major way. Turned them humble, repentant. This collective grief and shock and widespread devastation brought the people together, they forgot their differences for the moment, to somehow pick up the pieces and go on living their lives, with gratitude for what they had. But yes, it’s not as explicit in their mainstream media as others. I mean the amount and variety of films based on the second world war that I have seen in European and American cinema, like damn. Japanese cinema on the other hand? Pretty tame in that regard.

Takahata made ‘Grave of the Fireflies’ on this subject, a heart rending and deeply disturbing story about two orphaned siblings living during the war, is considered as one of the most effective anti war films ever made in the history of cinema, as said by Roger Ebert, the man himself. Anyone who has seen the film will know it is an anti war film. But when Takahata was interviewed about it, he denied it. He said he didn’t make an anti war film, he wouldn’t even talk about it and later, stopped giving interviews about it altogether. Never underestimate the censorship of the Japanese administration. Oshima, a staunch modernist himself, a huge critic of Akira Kurosawa’s old world values and humanism, equally critical of the right wing and extreme left wing politics of Japan, made heavily political films, broke up with the studio system that launched his career, because of how left leaning, political and individualistic his voice was. His films were often banned or taken off screens, he was subjected to numerous court cases. But he persevered and even a stroke couldn’t stop him. But that’s Oshima. Oshimas are a rare breed. 

So what couldn’t be seen in the mainstream media, you saw them in alternate or subaltern media. Akira is a direct testimonial to this. Akira is a story about a bunch of orphaned kids living in a dystopian world, that has been devastated by a bomb blast, past which Tokyo, now Neo Tokyo, is submerged in corruption and civil wars. The administration uses children as weapons to protect their own borders, but is eventually destroyed by these same children, when they couldn’t handle their powers. The reverberations of the post war atrocities can be viscerally felt in the themes of this manga, prompting a myriad of ethical implications and queries, questioning one’s understanding of a nation, of responsibility towards one’s people, love, hate, revenge borne of that hate, power, megalomania, philosophical implications of technology and the destruction borne of it, conflicts between different ideologies and so on and so forth but it’s resolve is quite familiar.

The resolve is about love, redemption, atonement and peace. That wars happen because there is love and hence there is hate, it's the people that make wars happen and it’s the people that pick up the pieces and go on living. That one can be hopeful even in adversities. No one is singularly condemned, no one is singularly held to blame even though it’s not difficult to see that things could have been handled better. But it’s not as black and white as that. It’s complex. World is complex.

But what we do see is that Tetsuo, an orphan who lives on the streets, who loses himself in the quest for power, fuelled by his need to be acknowledged, finally gives up on destroying everything when his lover Kaori dies protecting him, and at the urges of his best friend Kaneda, Tetsuo finally sees light, for the sake of his love for Kaori and Kaneda, and so he repents before dying. That all his passions come to nought when he loses the one thing he held dear to him, love for his friend and girlfriend, the only people that made him feel like he mattered. 

Similar themes can be seen in another manga Kishi is influenced by. Ruruoni Kenshin, basically a romance manga in shounen, written by Nobuhiro Watsuki. Battosai, the political assassin, falls in love with Tomoe, a spy, basically two people from opposing ideologies. Tomoe sacrifices herself for Battosai, even after Battosai has discovered her true identity. The manga  is structured with themes of ideological conflicts of love, revenge, love for one’s nation and adherence to one’s philosophy/belief systems, as it's set in the time period of transition between the Edo and Meiji era, but the resolution is similar. That love trumps all, that true love is greater than all the constructs made by humans. 

Is there any wonder we see similar themes in Naruto? Kishi uses similar effects and themes for his world building in Naruto and Shippuden. A dystopian society where children are barbarically used as weapons, where gross injustices happen, but people go on living. This world imagined by Kishimoto is a reflection of the real world, richly dramatised with similar themes of love and conflicts and ideological differences and war and devastation and revenge and human ethos and peace and atonement. Similar resolve? I would say so.

And I won’t even dismiss that Sasuke’s character is definitely left leaning. Sasuke is partially based on Sasuke by Sanpei Shirato, a popularly known leftist voice in the manga industry. It’s pretty clear for anyone with half a brain to see that Sasuke is anti-establishment, and for good reasons too. The collectivist, utilitarian, highly corrupt system of the shinobi world leads to utter devastation and genocide of his entire clan overnight directly under the noses of the citizens and leaders of Konoha, and whose body parts are then commodified in the name of protection of the same nation that was built around the philosophy of ‘Will of Fire’, which was supposed to protect them but instead who slaughtered them in their sleep.

Sasuke’s interests and need for justice stands in sharp contrast with the ways of the shinobi world, and where no one could understand him, Naruto finally does. He is the only one who tries. He is the only one who is capable, who is made to be capable by the way of the narrative where Kishimoto develops his character accordingly. Naruto is naive and simple minded to start with, but he is written to learn and evolve and understand different points of view. To learn from people’s tragedies and losses and grief and motivations. He is exposed to the way of this world through anti hero archetypes such as Nagato and Obito and Zabuza, where after Naruto, through his own inherent moral and humanistic code, begins to understand a world that is founded on love turned hate, which further paves the way for revenge, but is determined to put a stop to it. By proving his love for Sasuke, and Sasuke accepts his love. Sure, had it not been for Sasuke, he would have let it continue or have simply died with Sasuke before he could witness a better world.  But my point is, similar resolve : Love trumps all, peace, redemption and atonement. 

This is not to say that I approve of the ending, I do not. I hate it. Firstly, if the theme of Naruto and Shippuden was already established and concluded as 'love trumps all else including the socio politico cultural structures and institutions made by humans ', then why the hell were they made to marry women when they are clearly gay? And secondly but equally importantly, Sasuke should have gotten his dues, he deserved it, so did Neji and Naruto. The truth of the Uchiha massacre should have been revealed, and Konoha should have taken accountability and repented, these are after all, some major themes in the manga. Kishi broke all sorts of storytelling rules at the end and I am mad as hell at him for that. But unfortunately, I didn’t write this story and couldn’t have had if I tried. Doesn’t mean I will look for things in it that aren’t there. Kishimoto is not a communist or a right winger. He is Japanese. Both extremist interpretations of manga are misguided. Tobirama was a bigot that plotted against the Uchihas, Hiruzen was a complacent failure of a leader who let things happen in his regime that by no means indicates good leadership, Uchiha clan was discriminated against. But Kishi could not have made Sasuke reach his goals, not if Naruto, the protagonist, was supposed to be of any consequence, which essentially makes Naruto hold a moderate position. I also don’t like the fact that the ending and consequently Boruto, diluted Sasuke’s belief systems and very justified goals, I wish they could have modified it to a conclusive ending where him and Naruto could have worked towards changing the status quo, but I don’t think it would have materialised, Shonen Jump is strict about these things, namely pedagogic values appropriate for a certain target group. 

The conflicting ideologies definitely serve to make this manga drama and intrigue rich, but let’s not go overboard and look for things that aren’t there, which is what these stans seem to do. There’s no use in chasing shadows. 

Then they said this : “He (Miura) actually does talk a little about the sexual tensions between Guts and Griffith! Must’ve been one of the parts I was having a hard time putting into decent English. Basically Miura says that he doesn’t really agree with how people read sexual tensions into the Guts-Griffith relation, because men can have passionate feelings about each other without it being like that……..Yet none of this is meant to be “romantic love”. There’s passion here, intensity, obsession, but it isn’t sexual. ”

Truth is whether it be western or Asian media, the concept of misinterpreting homosexuality as brotherhood is quite well explored in global media. Don’t believe me? Here. All facts, no frills. 

One doesn’t even have to go very far, just look at Clamp, and you would be lucky if you were able to find more than five heterosexual characters in their entire range of mangas, lol. And honestly, their example of Berserk actually works in my favor and not theirs? GriffGuts is a valid gay ship. But of course, if they can reject SNS, it’s likely they would reject GriffGuts. Kishimoto and Miura, no matter what they say in their interviews, why is that more important than the story itself? Not like Kishimoto sounds all that confident in his interviews either, when he talks of them being more brothers than blood brothers.

I have not looked very deeply into Berserk, so I would like to invite veteran blogger @maoam to shed some light, one of the very few bloggers that I find with one of the most balanced and informed takes on Naruto and other relevant mangas.

Going ahead, let’s see what Miura says of boys.

Really Miura? Now what is this 'tingling' feeling?

What does this remind me of?

Lol. Now this isn’t the most accurate translation. This is the accurate translation, I am not sure of the source, I got this screengrab a long time ago, but I know for a fact it is legit.

Btw, the 'kyun' sound effect used here is used in Hentai to denote sexual arousal, lol.

Tell me what kind of brothers feel these feelings for each other? I have seen numerous Japanese films whether it be family dramas, Jidaigeki films, Japanese LGBTQ+ films, and I have never seen brothers behaving with each other like this once. Not once. What spiritual brothers? Lol. Why go against reason, intuition, narrative, visual imagery and cultural context to prove something using irrelevant sources? 

Like I thought we were past this Brother argument, it’s the 21st century, there are more discussions on homosexuality, the subject of homosexuality has gained more exposure and a lot of talented and individualistic creators have explored this subject. So why is Naruto fandom this backward and narrow minded??

I find it hard to believe that despite Kishi’s subtle but not really, and repetitious ministrations on the issues surrounding a stigmatized subject such as homosexuality, is that invisible. All you need is an open minded approach, that is all. You do that and the manga will unfurl itself so you will be able to see things that you so conveniently ignored before to satisfy your headcanons. Is it that unfair of a request?

Do these fans think they know everything about everything? They couldn’t have missed something? Something as glaring and apparent as SNS? Before they claim that they are some omniscient, all-knowing being, maybe watch some LGBTQ+ media, and compare notes? Analyse tropes? Give themselves some credit, that they have done their due diligence before spouting things they obviously do not understand? Or is that too much to ask for?

Maybe they have learnt everything in the world that is to be learnt and there’s just no free space in that highly evolved noggin of theirs. 

Maybe we are all just stupid fans who don’t know what we are talking of, even if we give the most objectively valid reasoning and evidence found inside the manga. Maybe they know best, maybe that’s why they think Sasuke slept with Karin, even when he shows no interest in her apart from maybe once or twice protecting her as his teammate, something he also does with ALL his other teammates? And generally, gets really annoyed and uncomfortable with Karin’s over the top sexual proposals, and then doesn’t think twice about getting rid of her when she is used as a bait to have him captured. Hmmm, I see their logic. They must really be the all knowing omniscient being, the Arahat, the wise one, the one who finally achieved Nirvana, proper enlightenment and all huh? Damn I feel so small. (A tear rolls down my downy cheek as my bosom trembles in humiliation). LOL.

Interestingly, the way Miura talks of boys, that they give them a ‘tingling’ feeling, makes me think. Keep in mind, Miura never married, there is no evidence of him having had a girlfriend. But let’s not speculate, even if it sounds fishy. 

Understanding homosexuality in a conservative society is crucial in order to understand the SNS dynamic. There’s no doubt that Kishi wrote Naruto as a closeted homosexual and Sasuke as a homosexual boy. If one denies this, I can’t even take them seriously. 

But it reminds me of an anecdote my gay friend told me. He is a national award winning filmmaker, an intellectual in his own right, and works a lot with the trans community in my country. A conservative, ultra religious, non-western country. As a young man in his twenties, when he had just come out, he would date men who would simply not identify as gay. He would sleep with them, and do what do people sexually attracted to each other do. But sleeping willingly with a man and accepting the gay identity are two different things. Where my friend understood these nuances even then, as having come from a conservative society himself, he would not force them to come out. These men would never even acknowledge that being attracted to men and not women makes them gay, it was not even a part of their understanding. Rather, they would think of it as something that ‘certain’ men do. Doesn’t mean it’s weird or uncommon, even though they knew straight men did not do this. But they would simply not go there. They would just chalk it up to something temporary, something that they needed to do before they got married to women they didn’t feel anything for, because that’s how it’s done. It’s not like they weren’t aware of the gay dialectic, my friend would talk to them about it, but they would simply not acquiesce, the denial was so strong. Till date, these men don’t admit to it, now they are married and have children. But still look for sexual relationships with men outside of it. 

Which brings me to my next anecdote, told to me by another friend of mine. He is a stylist, absolutely flamboyant and openly, proudly gay. Very adventurous and experiment loving. He told me that in his experience, the best carnal fun he had was with Muslim men. And that most men who approached him for sex were Muslim men. (This is not an attack or criticism of the religion or community, it’s just something my friend told me). He would be approached by these men who would have the most voracious of appetites and tastes, and my friend went with it because he preferred to suck circumcised dicks, lol. Quite a lot of them were married, but my friend didn’t discriminate. He told me the same thing, these men would never identify as gay, not even during intimate moments, nope. Accepting your sexual identity is a more than a matter of sex. People in conservative societies face a lot of challenges and obstructions before even coming to certain realizations about themselves, it’s not that easy. In many ways, my country is even more conservative than Japan. Homosexuality is quite a taboo, hell, I didn’t even know the concept myself till I was well into my teens, and even then, I was only told the most stereotypical of things. I also grew up in a small town. It was later, when I went to the city to study, when I came into contact with people from all walks of life, nationalities, tastes, and sexual orientations, that was when I understood them as people, and not categories and labels. And now I have a friend who works as a dominatrix for a living and I still learn a lot. 

I refuse to judge people on the most basic and stereotypical of preconceived notions. 

The reason why I consider these fans to be homophobic…. Honestly, what gives them so much confidence to consider Sasuke and Naruto as brothers despite everything that is in the manga? Everything, from characterisation to plotting to the overarching themes to visual imagery to cultural context to text indicates their very romantic relationship, not platonic. Naruto admires the way Sasuke looks physically more than once and effectively calls him hot in Gaiden, what kind of guy thinks of his brother in those terms? 

These stans are so pressed to label them brothers without even looking at gay media, or gay narratives, without even paying attention to nuances in the manga, or Japanese historical context or their own gay media, appropriating everything for the sake of their projection, dismissing or ignoring loads and loads of text and panels and characterisation, why? Why can’t they at least entertain the idea for once and reread the manga with that approach? You can’t be so sure of your projection, c’mon, you know it’s counterintuitive, it just simply doesn’t gel with what’s in the manga. So why this extended stubborn denial? Give me proof that reincarnated chakras make two people brothers. Where does it say in the manga? Show me. I can show you everything that I claim, it’s all inside the manga. Where’s yours? So just because it satisfies your ego, it’s a valid take? Why are you this sure of your takes? Given you have gotten multiple things wrong? Like objectively wrong. 

Look, I understand denial is a strong factor, when we don’t want to see things we don’t like, our minds act like blinders. It would restrict your vision and make you see only what you want to see. And what a sad way that is to live, what a waste of time. I don’t believe in living that way, not in my media and not in my real life. But this obstinate refusal to accept SNS as romantic, is nothing but one’s desire to not accept Naruto or Sasuke as homosexual because you think it’s icky? Undesirable? Unattractive? Different from shounen norms? And because you want them to be straight so you can self insert? Whatever the reason, as long as you ignore real evidence and real proof, I will see you not only as heteronormative but also homophobic, you don’t gotta be overt, your underlying beliefs reek of prejudice and bias, especially when you haven’t done your due diligence, something that you mandatorily should have done in order to analyse this story. Doesn’t take a PhD degree to see that. 

Like Denis Diderot said - We swallow greedily any lie that flatters us. But we sip only little by little at a truth we find bitter. 

My advice to them? Give yourself a break. Give yourself enough credit that you are open minded enough to entertain an alternative understanding, even if just for the moment if nothing else, and see where that takes you. Watch more media, watch gay media, talk to people, listen to their stories, try and understand their point of views, read more, compare notes, learn more. And ask if you don’t know. There’s no shame in admitting you might not know something. Because you obviously don’t. 

I am always of the mind of learning more and more, and I know I have strong opinions, but give me reason and logic and evidence, and you can bet I will listen, and even acquiesce to you, if I find it satisfactory. Because that’s how things should be, if we can’t grow and learn from what life teaches us, what’s the point? We all have a lot to learn, don’t we? 

Anyway, there’s some more shit that they claim which is essentially written in a similar vein, more or less, albeit in the same condescending tone. Lol. 

But I am done for the day, I am tired. So imma stop, this is me. 

#ask #naruto #sasuke #sns #sasunaru #narusasu #naruto analysis #naruto meta #uzumaki naruto #uchiha sasuke

[gyunade]

prompt: practicing with haseul ….

y/n: girl… just realised ive never had my first kiss im so embarrassed

seulie<3: GIRL WHAT… i thought u were in your hoe era bye

y/n: well 😅😅😅😅

seulie<3: why am i kinda disappointed lol

y/n: if you’re so mad abt noone kissing me come do it yourself whore

seulie<3: bet

You didn’t think much of the conversation you had with your best friend, but as soon as you were about to enter your bathroom, you heard a knock from your window. While most people would be scared, you knew you were okay, cause it was just your neighbour best friend, Haseul. It was normal for you two to flirt jokingly, this time (as well as the couple last times) you kinda meant it…. you just weren’t expecting her to do too????

“Hi” the blonde gave you a warm smile as she plopped on your bed, using her arms as support. “what do you want?” you asked with a playful tone, closing the gap between you. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you down on her lap, staring at your face. “Poor y/n didn’t have her first kiss… does she want to practice?” she titled her head. You felt your face heat up but thanked the fact that you hadn’t yet taken off your makeup, so you shouldn’t be that red.

You didn’t even bother to answer, smashing your lips on hers, the sudden force making her fall back on her back. She tasted sweet, like the vanilla chapstick you always see her put on. You licked her lip, shortly after pushing your tongue in her mouth. Haseul let out a soft whimper as you bit down on her tongue. “Didn’t know you’d be so rough” she smiled up at you finally pulled away. In one quick moment, she flipped you over, now straddling your lips.

Leaning in, she placed kisses on your neck, nibbling here and there. Your hands went to her blonde hair, massaging your scalp. You gasped as her cold hands went under your shirt, creeping up to your chest. “slut..” she mumbled as she started toying with your breasts, aiming to the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra.

You lifted yourself with your elbows, letting her take off your shirt. She did the same, and was left in a cute black bra. “Stop staring” she blushed and turned her head away, leaving you surprised by how quickly her mood can change. “sorry… you’re just so pretty”

Haseul leaned in, reconnecting your lips. this time, her hand wondered in your pj short, going straight to your clothed clit. The sudden pleasure made you jump, making you grab her shoulder. “it’s okay baby.. i’ll take care of you” she kissed the corner of your mouth. Her fingers pushed your panties to the side, sliding up and down your lips. “so wet… bet you taste so good too, but that’s a lesson for tomorrow” she said as she entered you, with two fingers from the very beginning. You moaned out as she wasn’t going easy on you. She was rapidly thrusting in and out, her thumb circling at your clit.

Your heart beat quickly increased, as you started getting close. “fuck- keep tightening your cunt around me baby.” the girl above you told you, as her mouth was attached to one of your breasts, biting at it painfully. it didn’t take you long to come, shouting her name with tears in your eyes. She pulled her hand out, admiring the wetness dripping off her fingers, before shoving them in her mouth.

#gyunade #loona x reader #loona smut #haseul smut #haseul x reader #gg smut #wlw #wlw smut

[heraldofcrow]

Okay, now it is YOUR turn to talk about what your Laurence's (eventual?) vices/flaws are! There is a general theme of Laurence having good intentions but growing corrupt, but at the same time something's always unique and all. I reckon yours is an impulsive and arrogant asshole of sorts, but what else / how can it be elaborated?

OH INDEED.

Fucking Kotya lmao

Ok, so…I drew this pic literally to answer these asks, because I figured a portrait of young Laurence looking all ✨ambitious✨ would suit the whole thing, so here.

Free art for u

I am now recieving reports that he looks like Light Yagami from Deathnote even though I have only seen a few pictures of Light in my life and I also totally drew inspiration for this design from a totally different character but ANYWAY

Lol. Ok, now for the headcanons!

My Laurence is pretty straightforward. He has rich kid with a chronic illness syndrome. That’s it. Bam. (I’m kdding. Kind of).

In all seriousness, from day one I saw Laurence as someone that was born into wealth and into a different lifestyle from most people. That’s why the “he’s from Cainhurst” thing was perfect for me, because yeah, of course he is. He comes off like that. (I’ll get to the chronic illness thing).

I’m not just going on some “billionaires can be careless individuals that wreck people’s lives because they can’t fathom being poor or desperate or barred from certain privileges” rant…but I am acknowledging what I see as one of Laurence’s biggest issues, and that’s…well…he’s too reckless with human life. I don’t even think it’s entirely sinister or intentional, but he simply doesn’t get it. He thinks he can treat the world like a lab experiment and everything will be just fine.

(This is also why I think Micolash was more deprived as a child, because he’s sacrificial with human life in a more deliberate way. He’s desperate as hell and is willing to brutalize countless people to reach the top. That urge and drive to even reach a higher plane just screams “lack” to me. Micolash wanted to claw his way out of the slums, but I won’t go into that now and if anyone dares suggest I am saying that less privileged people are more cutthroat, I am NOT. This applies to a very specific type of bastard ffs 💀).

Oh and, since we are not just going over flaws in light of me answering both your asks, I will give more detail on my headcanons for Laurie’s background. After all, it also ties into the flaws discussion.

—

Bakckground 🔱

So. For some background context, I headcanon that Laurence’s father was, in fact, That Guy we always point out (Beltran) on the portraits and for the same reasons you do.

Credit to you for the reference obviously, but that pendant…the Cainhurst/Yharnam/Healing Church links…well, yeah. We know.

Anyway, so Beltran was a pretty famous Cainhurst academic professor and research expert on the Pthumerian genetics of the Cains in particular. (When I say I think Cainhurst was full of experimental scholars around the time Byrgenwerth was founded, I am dead serious. I SWEAR IT MAKES SENSE. Byrgenwerth and Cainhurst. Two sides of the same coin, my friend.)

Anyway, Beltran was married to a non-royal but wealthy lady from Hemwick that descended from a Loranite family that happened to be full of priests and seers. Yippeee!

This couple’s only child was Laurence, and he was raised in their oh-so-fancy rich lifestyle where the father was constantly being invited to snobby scholarly events and the mother was holding tea-centered socials in their lavish mansion parlors. Like ya do.

I picture Laurence growing up trying to fit in with his parents’ lifestyle like this:

Lmao, so long story short…it wasn’t his thing. He didn’t quite vibe with the snobby richies he grew up with.

In fact, I like the idea that he absolutely hated his parents’ high class world and felt that they expected too much from him. He was too restricted and stifled. They expected him to be them. His mother was strict, disapproving and nagging; his father was absent-minded and a bit too focused on his life’s work, which, when he wasn’t lost in, was the only thing he tried to connect with Laurence on.

“You should be a great scholar too, Laurence!! Uh hur hur.”

This is where Laurence started to rebel and go his own route, while also developing plenty of complexes along the way (of course). He would be a better academic, better influential figure, better leader, better plutocratic socialite, etc., oh yes. His parents would see.

He had all the makings of these things too, because despite bucking against his childhood influences, he was ,quite frankly, obsessed with enriching study, scientific pursuit, old mythologies and religions, etc.. He loved the world of academia. He was fond of the ancient tales of glorious heroes and scholars that changed the world for the better, and he often fancied himself one of those “types.”

I even like the idea that he discovered the (Bloodborne equivalent) tale of of Saint Laurence the Martyr and saw it as a sign that he was destined for greatness. He tended to reference lofty epics and historical novels in everyday discussion to add a sense of meaning and grandeur to everything. He didn’t want to live a common, mundane life. He wanted to live a glorious one.

And one of the key contributing factors to this mindset Laurence had was his own chronic illness.

Now, this is my favorite thing to headcanon actually because it fits so well??

As a child, Laurence developed early on what I consider to be Cystic Fibrosis, and had horrible lung issues for most of his life. When he was young, the doctors told him and his parents that his life expectancy was likely to be about 30 years. (In the real world, this was actually the life expectancy not too long ago).

Knowing this, and being disappointed in his doctors for not providing any sort of cure, was the catalyst for half of Laurence’s ambitions. He only had so much time to live life, and he was determined to leave his mark on the world…and maybe also find a cure. Yasss bestie!!

—

Byrgenwerth 🍎

Laurence’s parents sent him off to Byrgenwerth at 16 to gain an intense and long-term education from Yharnam’s leading scholars. He went with Ludwig, a childhood friend.

A bit on my Laurence/Ludwig headcanon to add context:

The two had both grown up somewhere near Hemwick, and while Laurence lived in a more isolated, wealthy world, Ludwig was a sturdy farm boy that had helped to keep his family’s ranch afloat after losing their larger fortune. While they had come from Cainhurst in previous generations, family chains of bad habits and broken ties led to a lower class lifestyle for Ludwig’s parents.

Laurence personally knew that Ludwig was a primary caretaker for his parents and many siblings. He was a good, loyal kid, and it was through him that Laurence learned empathy for people with less fortune than himself. I mean, Ludwig would drag Laurence around to visit neighbors and even donate to those that were struggling with money like it was nothing, and I think this is where Laurence started to “feel” for the rest of the world.

Unfortunately, his arrogant streak also tainted it with a sense of, “See! Look how good of a person I am!”

(I think Ludwig did have an impact on him though, so it was always a mix of self-righteousness and a genuine desire to help others. He would have also admired Ludwig and secretly envied his…dead-honest heart for those in need).

Ok. Going back to the storyline, and considering this bond that Laurence and Ludwig shared, here we have them at Byrgenwerth. Laurence was already planning his great ascension into glory and sleepy Ludwig is just happy to be there with his friend and to have been lucky enough to even attend by the graces of a family friend. Yipeee!

My Laurence was at his most fiery and impetuous at Byrgenwerth as a young teen/young adult. He was passionate, talkative, charismatic, fierce, etc., and he made quick work of getting to know everyone in the school right away. They couldn’t escape him. To Laurence, every other student was a potential ally and “part” in the epic tale of his life.

(This was also when Laurence and Ludwig met Gehrman, who was basically Byrgenwerth’s most well-known “security guard” when it came to warding off beasts or general supernatural weirdness. Gehrman was this odd, older kid in his 20s with an insane skillset. He was already an infamous hunter and Laurence greatly admired his bravery. He and Ludwig sought out the antisocial weirdo that was always hiding in the woods and adopted him into their friend group. Aaaand that’s where all the trouble began lol).

Soon, everyone in Byrgenwerth held some kind of connection to Laurence. Rom, Micolash, Maria, Caryll, Damian, Yurie, etc., and they all had their own thoughts and feelings on the brash auburn scholar. He was a handful to be sure. In a way, Ludwig was the only one that could ever “hold Laurence back” a bit, but only in a very brotherly, good-natured manner.

That’s the thing too; people liked Laurence a lot. He was popular, but they could also hate him or grow tired of him. He knew how to be charming and how to talk others up by pointing out their strengths, but then he could turn around and be so arrogant, self-centered, and envious that it would irk his audience.

They wanted to be apart of the grand tale he was telling them that he planned to weave, but they also wanted him to just shut up sometimes; if that makes sense. He was a bit of an endearing, irritating, egoist with a lot of outward appeal and an inward intrigue.

His true friends also knew that he was secretly very insecure around people he didn’t trust or know, and would be vulnerable on occasion with those he did trust. That bit of heart he could show is what proved to his friends that he wasn’t actually a total impulsive snob. He cared. He just also wanted to prove himself to the world and literally everyone in it.

“I swear, you guys don’t realize how important I am to the modern age yet!!”

After years of studying and researching his beloved histories and mythologies, he began to take an interest in medical science, archeology, and the mysterious history Yharnam had with Pthumerians.

His illness also grew worse as his thirties approached. He began to study directly under Provost Willem, and that’s when the board was set with all the right pieces.

—

The Church and Research Hall 💉

Ah, here we go.

I think, for obvious reasons at this point, Laurence’s interest in the ancient records of the Pthumerians and their superhuman traits was to be expected. It was exactly what he was looking for.

Divine blood? A link between gods and men? Ascension? It all seemed like the earth-shattering discoveries he had dreamt of all his life; it seemed like the dream of changing the world for the better, making an impact, and even the subtle hope of finding a cure for chronic illness. Needless to say, Laurence was fixated. Willem was right there with him.

Laurence was an assistant professor to Willem by that point and they began to experiment with all of our lovely blood and eyes in the Research Hall. I love the thought you have expressed before about testing antidotes during that stage as well; something Laurence would have been interested in.

Laurence, with all his bright ideas, was the one to suggest a Church as a way to distribute and test their research. Willem agreed, and that’s where our beta Healing Church began. Laurence wasn’t really a religious person himself, but Yharnam thrived on it and he was smart enough to know that religious authority was absolutely an asset, one that he could peacefully utilize to spread his influence and agendas.

He knew Yharnam had always believed in the Great Ones, and discovering a holy medium to use as proof of their interference was everything they needed.

Now, moving on with the lore implications that we have discovered about Byrgenwerth and the Church having been united at one point, AND the subsequent schism having been more of an internal divergence within that union rather than the precedent to a direct, dramatic academic/religious split…let’s jump ahead a bit…

Post-Fishing Hamlet and Byrgenwerth schism Laurence was someone a little more cold and cutthroat. He was still impulsive, but his spitfire characteristics were tamer, more subdued…he had taken up the authority of the Healing Church, reluctantly separated from Willem, and dealt with the aftermath of the Fishing Hamlet—something he absolutely felt guilt over, but was too afraid to acknowledge. He hid everything. All that mattered was what the blood could give him.

There was also a new burning drive in his heart upon reaching his thirties, which he had never expected to see. The blood had seemingly lessened the effects of his Fibrosis and acted as a temporary cure. It was his salvation and the salvation of Yharnam. Totally. 100%

Nothing will go wrong.

—

Yharnam’s Downfall 🩸

We know how things went down from here, but Laurence by this point was, I guess you could say, at his lowest and worst. The mistakes he had made in his earlier years with the Hamlet, the Schism, and the Research Hall were catching up to him, and as Yharnam began to gradually grow worse under the blood ministration, Laurence grew worse with it.

In the public eye, he was a gracious and holy figure that distributed alms and medicines to those in need, who endlessly made promises he probably wouldn’t keep, but everyone that believed him would be dead before they even understood that. Behind closed doors, things were different.

He was harsher with his colleagues, heavily depressed, and more desperate than ever. His illness was like a reoccurring nightmare; something that reared its ugly head in the worst moments and sent him into darker, more hellish states of mind. He suppressed it every time, taking more and more blood to heal himself, but he wasn’t stupid. (I think?)

He knew that the blood wasn’t working the way he thought it was supposed to. It was temporary, brief, fleeting…and if anything, it affected his pscyhe for the worse. He was becoming more paranoid, more withdrawn and bitter. Like a solitary beast. (Omg foreshadowing!)

Most of his old friends either left him, betrayed him directly, or simply tolerated him from that point on. Gehrman was too miserable in those days to draw close to anyone, and Ludwig himself was sinking deeper into self-loathing and disillusionment. Willem was gone, Rom was doing Rom things, Yurie and Caryll were gone…Micolash had become somewhat of a monster, and Maria was strongly opposed to most of what Laurence stood for.

He had lost most of the old ties that had saturated his Byrgenwerth days, and needless to say, it took its toll. This is when Brador came into the picture, but you remember that whole headcanon I’m sure ;)

This is when all bets were off. Laurence was angry, grieved, condemned, and vengeful. Bro went ballistic.

He ordered the Cainhurst massacre, he allowed more unethical experiments in the Church walls, he tolerated the mistreatment of certain people groups in Yharnam, and eventually he oversaw the burning of Old Yharnam. He hid most of his sins too, hiring assassins and spies to take care of any prying eyes.

This was the ruthless, cruel Laurence that the fandom loves, but I don’t personally see him as having been gloating or laughing through it. I think he was giving himself to hatred and self-hatred, abusing his public image to allow a certain amount of “justified” mercilessness. I also can absolutely see him being paranoid out of his mind.

His former desires to appear as a heroic figure were twisted into these evil decisions as Vicar, but there was also a side to his determination that was fueled by the notion of “If this world is going to be so unfair and unkind, I’ll wrest order from it, I’ll bring us to glory if it kills us.”

This was his true downfall. BAD LAURENCE. BAD.

The End 🔥

Yharnam was ruined.

Broken down, defeated, and heartsick…Laurence had lost everything. Cainhurst was gone, Hemwick lay in ruins, Old Yharnam’s people were given to the plague, and every old friend Laurence had known had fallen into darkness. Ludwig was dead, Maria was dead, Willem was in a vegetative state, Rom had ascended, Caryll was dead, and Micolash had lost his mind in Yahar’gul.

I also have this theory that not long before the time of his transformation, Laurence discovered that his mother had been living in Cainhurst when the massacre had taken place. His father had died years earlier, and he had not exactly been devastated considering he barely knew the man, but Laurence’s mother, for all of her cold-heartedness, had been a relevant presence in his life. Knowing that he had been the cause of her death threw him into despair and even further regret.

His sickness also finally came through despite all the blood consumption. Blood itself was something Laurence began to regularly cough up as his lungs ruptured. He was going to die soon and he knew it. He was also possibly on the verge of something worse. The bestial taints of his flesh were omens he could not ignore.

That’s when Laurence finally shattered and accepted his fate. He had achieved…a lot. None of it good. Brador pitilessly remarked that nobody would consider him a good man even after his death, and Laurence lamented the dream he once had of dying in a sacrificial, heroic death in flames like the ancient Saint Laurence had done.

The greatest sacrifice he could make was to die, and spare the world from any further ruin, Brador said. He would never be a saint, but he could still die a martyr’s death. An ironic, perverse variation of one.

Laurence’s final action was to summon the Moon in a last-ditch effort to gain Flora’s help, to help the heart-broken Gehrman bring Maria back, to plead for mercy and freedom from the curse of beasts. Laurence promised Gehrman that they would fix everything, that it would all be made well if the Hunt continued. Gehrman believed in Laurence and the promise, but the latter did not. He knew it was over.

The Moon descended, Gehrman vanished into the Dream, Old Yharnam burned, and Laurence turned at last, accepting his demise. Brador finished him off with fire and blood, beheading him afterwards and wearing his scalp as a twisted symbol forever after. Laurence was in his fifties and had truly died a grand martyr’s death. He got everything he wanted. Yipeee!

—

THERE I DID IT! Damn, I am glad you made me do this, because even though I always really liked Laurence, I never quite loved him. I hadn’t done the character deep-dive yet, but this?? This did it.

I love the reckless, spitfire teen/young adult Laurence of Byrgenwerth, the kid that wanted so badly to prove himself to the world and change things for the better, who wanted to trump his own lifelong illness, and who wanted to be better than the people that raised him. He was arrogant yes, but he was admirable to others in his sheer force of will to succeed and conquer life. I love the idea that he wanted his life to be like an epic, full of heroism and sacrifice.

I don’t think he ever initially used people, and I don’t think he lacked empathy. He had learned it from his friends and from simply observing the world. Yes, he was insecure and envious of others that seemed better than him, but he also vocally expressed genuine support and encouragement on their behalf. They were characters in the story too! They had valuable parts to play! (Oh the irony).

Yes, he was careless with human life. He was simply ignorant as a youth because of his upbringing wherein the “elite” were the ones that decided the fate of others. That carelessness turned sinister only in his later years when he began to lose sympathy for the world. Yes, he made a grave mistake in that.

But there was always remorse. Laurence’s heart was not buried. He regretted every needless death, every failed experiment. He may not have admitted it until just before his death, but he was never entirely without shame. Guilt wasn’t something the heroes in his favorite tales were supposed to feel.

I love all of the symbolism that can permeate his character as well. Blood in health and illness, the forbidden fruit that is dangled to lure men into beasthood, the antlers he carries as a beast, which are symbolic of a glorious crown in most interpretations, etc..

Just how he burns with hellfire, wearing this ironic crown, a sign of his perfectly orchestrated downfall. It’s beautiful.

I love him. You made me love him by writing about him. Congrats lol. Hope this answered all your questions about his flaws and the headcanons!!

Au revoir!

#I DID IT FINALLYYYYY #WOOHOO!! #this felt great #i love this character now like officially #it took a while to click but i see it now…i get it fandom #i wish things were…a little different in the neighborhood and everyone could share without feeling judged but anyway i won’t go into that #hope you like it Katy and that it was worth the wait!! #:D #laurence the first vicar #bloodborne #bloodborne headcanons #CrowSketch #long post #gif warning #asks