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#peanut gallery au
goffilolo · 4 months
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Cat behaviour
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silvyavan · 1 year
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black clover doesn’t have enough bullshit, and it’s been getting too chummy around here.
have some Christmas Crack this Simpsmas
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the-geek-librarian · 7 months
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@gothiclolitafanarts
Hi I remember you said it was ok to make content with you Au so I was inspired by the death of Asta in peanut-galory Au to give you this! Hope you like it
(Btw this isn't the best quality bc I made this on a wim at the beach so I hope you can forgive any errors)
"If you wish to kill me... Then do it, I wont bother stop you" Megicula said without moving her eyes to meet Noelles
Noelle's jaw slightly dropped as she looked at Megicula with a shocked silence. "What.." this had to eb some joke right? A part of some god forsaken plan that she can now put into motion because.... Because Asta is- "You have wanted me dead for the longes time No?" they turnd thier eyes to look at Noelle, now having made eye contact. " The only thing I seem to bring at this point is bad luck" they Sighed a heavy hearted Sigh.
Thier Fathers death, what they did to thier dear Vanica and now... Asta as well. Good things just don't seem to come from them the opposite happens... They truly are a walking curse. Turning thier head around they just dont happen to give a fuck anymore.
Death. Death Noelle thought and for a moment she pictured it Megicula the devil that killed her Mother dead at her hand slowly disappearing to nothingness.  She was tempted to take thier offer she really was but... The more she looked at them the angrier she got but not for her mothers death. "You useless fuck" she murmured under her breath as she grabbed the devil from the coler of thier dress lifting them up with one hand to meet her eyes.
They made eye contact once more, the eyes Noelle was met with where tierd, not careing with no light in them once so ever. That just made Noelle more mad- no pissed, without hesitation she raised her free arm and punched Megicula in the jaw sending her flying till they hit the floor with a hard smack.
No curses to protect them
That only set Noelle off more
Megicula managed to get up on their feet looking down at thier hand bloody from wiping away the blood on their nose and and mouth. "You" Noelle started "You didn't understand a thing of what Asta teached you Huh?" Megicula looked up at her with surprise "Wha-"
"Shut your mouth" Noelle growled " Asta is gone where all devastated and heart-broken but that... That is no excuse to give up you fuck" Noelle looked down at Megicula and they had nothing to tell her.
"So stop felling sorry for yourself and keep moving forward, thats what Asta would have wanted. And when you have managed to atone for what you did maybe then you'll be wothy of death" Noelle stated as she turned around and walked away.
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omegaversetheory · 7 months
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Please imagine little Omegas making their first nests and bringing all of their favourite toys in with them, even if they aren't exactly comfy nesting material. They just don't know what to put in their nests yet! And they know they like their toys and stuff so they should be perfect right?
How cute! Sharing this with the peanut gallery to enjoy as well.
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wanderpawn · 2 months
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afab/trans/nonbinary neuvillette headcanon lives rent free in my heart 💙
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same-name-supremacy · 4 months
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Gonna try and make a long story short
I’ve been wanting to draw Td genderbends of my own for awhile along with my own TD sona getting a genderbend,but that was before I found it blog,and I like your dragons more that anything ever
So now I serve as fanart purposes and my genderbended sona,Oliver
(Sry the lighting is weird and that this is in my sketchbook,the lightbulb in my bedroom is pinkish purple and I cannot find my drawing iPad for the life of me)
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Awwwwww! I love him! I wonder what team he’ll be on?
Anyway! Here I drew him with Jody!
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willowcrowned · 2 years
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now that Leia and Obi-Wan have actually met in canon I desperately desperately want an au where Leia actually makes it all the way to Tatooine and to Obi-Wan so we get Sad Hermit Man vs Princess "I'm getting the sparkly gloves" Leia, Part II: "Is this really your house, you sad old man? Yikes"
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starry-blue-echoes · 1 year
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Jonathan Reincarnation AU (I am not typing the whole thing) + Peanut Gallery: Jonathan and Jonathan and Jonathan and Jonathan and Jonathan and Jonathan. Jonathanception.
ERUWFNHJREBHERSRS W H E E Z E
the Jonathan's all show up and have a moment of Wait A Fucking Moment- and then they start comparing notes about their respective lives and What They Should Do
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sabraeal · 7 months
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Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 9
[Read on AO3]
Written for @sepalina's birthday, who deliberated for two days only to suddenly remember, oh yes right she has a favorite fic 🤣
That Seiran chick might have a princess’s pedigree around here, but there’s nothing dainty about the way she grips the metal bar at the end of each of their cots, twisting her wrists like she’s picturing flesh and bone rather than steel.
“You two have to be the biggest boneheads I have ever seen stuffed into a drive suit.” Her fingers clench, and Obi could swear the mental dints. “A bare knuckle brawl in the dome? At a time like this? Are you two insane?”
“Ah, well…” The Big Guy may have looked tough when Obi took him to the mats, a more solid anti-kaiju wall than anything the PDPC could toss into the Pacific, but he cringes just like any other mortal would when Kiki Seiran looms over him, all her disappointment honed to a point. “It wasn’t really a brawl. Just a…regulated spar, like usual—“
“Usual?” Her arms fold the way steel does into rebar, and oh, the princess is not amused. “Obi’s more bruise than bone.”
“Aw, Princess,” he croons, trying not to wince from the effort. “If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy.”
Her spine straightens, giving her all the extra inches she needs to give that glare of hers momentum, hitting him like a body off the Golden Gate hits the bay. “I can see the other guy. You’re both in the same infirmary, because you’re the same amount of stupid.”
“Actually, I’ve been wondering about the logic on that one.” He tilts his head, trying to go for that doleful dog stare that does wonders on sweet little nurses with hearts of gold. Too bad he’s got Yuzuri, who only wrenches his head back to the side, holding him still enough to swab when the skin’s split over his cheekbone. “Is this our— yikes, careful there, Florence— get along shirt or something? Two guys take some swings and you hope sticking us in a bottle sorts it out?”
“No,” she deadpans, taking a pen light out from the pocket of her scrubs. “I’m trying to quarantine the idiocy. You better be careful, Major” —she casts a long glance princess-side— “it might be catching.”
That regal mouth twitches, somewhere in the realm of amused. “Too late for me. No one ends up in a drive suit unless they’re born with it.”
“Ha, that’s for sure.” A light sears across his line of sight, leaving constellations in its wake. “As for you two, I didn’t see the point in sending you to your corners when you’re so friendly. Saves me space, and you can treat tonight like a sleepover. Braid each other’s hair and talk about cute boys.”
“Er…” How a big man like that can go through basic and still blush as easy as a school girl, Obi will never know, but it’s funny as hell. “I don’t really have opinions on cute boys…”
“Don’t worry, Big Guy,” he grunts, snuggling his shoulders into the pillows at his back. “I’ve got enough for both of us.”
That gets him a real side-eye from GI Joe, one that only ends when he swings those golden retriever eyes onto the real authority in this room. “Is there any way I get to go back to my bunk tonight?”
“Sorry, Major.” No matter what she says, Yuzuri’s shrug doesn’t give a single hint of regret. “Gotta keep you both on observation. SOP for rangers with head injuries. Last thing we need is for you guys to hare off and play hero just because you heard the dinner bell.”
He grimaces, all perfect teeth in a perfect face. Pity this guy fell into the military before someone could get him a magazine cover. Obi would have loved to hang that pin-up over his bunk. “Ah, right. That…makes sense.”
Of course it did. They might all be kaiju-fodder in the end, but they were the expensive, top shelf shit. The kind the PDPC wanted to stretch out as long as possible, not waste on some idiot who went into the drift concussed and had his brain melt right out his ears for the effort. Obi half surprised they haven’t been shoved into an MRI just to make sure.
“Aww, but you don’t really want to leave, do you, bestie? Not when we’re gonna have so much fun.” The target of his grin shifts from bed to bedside. “What do you think, Yuzuri? Think we could borrow some ManGo For It or Red Hot Rio?”
“I dunno,” she deadpans, not even looking up from her notes. “I think he’s more of Rosy Future guy.”
“Really? Still running your mouth?” Her Highness tosses her head, more pony than princess. “Did you not get beat bad enough?”
“What, this little mosquito bite?” Obi gives his jaw a good clench and turn, displaying his medal of honor at its best angle. Hurts like a bitch, but it’s worth it to see even Princess get squeamish. “Lucky shot. I got three hits for his one.”
Her mouth does that thing it does, that twitch, the one he’s starting to figure out is a laugh. “Yeah, and that’s all he needed to make you crumple like a tin can.”
“I already said I felt bad about that,” Big Guy grumbles, all folded in on himself like a teddy bear longing for a good squeeze. “I wasn’t trying to…well…”
“It’s okay, Superman, we all know you’re living in a world of cardboard.” Obi leans over, giving one of those meaty shoulders a good pat. Probably feels like a whisper to a man that stacked. “How can I blame you, when you were only defending milady’s honor—?”
Her weight shifts, no longer balanced parade-style between their cots, but sitting back in her hips, displeasure heavily implied. That man-sized mountain straightens so much it Obi can practically feel the plate tectonics beneath his palm.
“I was not!” Big puppy eyes swing right around to the ticking time bomb at the end of their beds. “I would never do that!”
One elegant eyebrow arches, and ah, now he can see why half the PDPC pisses itself when she punches the bag right off its chain. Most of the rangers the Academy rolls out are brawlers, the kind of guys that get in between a kaiju’s punch and the Pacific coastline, but this girl— her power’s in the application of force, the art of finessing a blow to where the bones can’t bear it. Can’t get into a brawl with a fighter like that and expect an old fashioned beatdown, oh no— when princess steps on the mats, she doesn’t fight, she dismantles.
Ha, and by the way she chucks her chin, all challenge, she knows it.
Now how about that. It’s a whisper in his ear, a hum across the million and one electric impulses in his brain, dangerous and fond. Remind you of anyone you know?
Knew, maybe. Bright blue smears over stark white when he closes his eyes; suits that stood out, even among halls that housed living legends. Eye-catching, the higher ups had called it, but it caught all the wrong eyes when it came to Sonisay. They all learned, of course; even now he hears the sickening crack of bone, sees the sweep of dark hair as she steps out of her spin—
Not just that. That laugh jangles his nerves, too close to his own and yet infinitely different, inimitable. Not just her.
There’s a boy too, too small, too skinny, too…not enough. Might as well be a shadow for how closely he clings to that same dance, to those same stances. Might as well be a monster for how easily the bones crack under his heels too, no remorse, no regrets—
A boy that shouldn’t exist. A boy that no longer does. Obi closes his eyes.
You can’t look away forever. Too many voices to count on that one. Watch me, only his reply.
“Let me make something clear.” Big Guy’s grunt grounds him, dragging him right back down to his bed, to the finger waggling at him. “Kiki doesn’t need me to fight her fights for her. If she wants to kick someone’s ass, she can make her own bodies.”
Ah, great. Got back just in time to witnessing Bloodbath Barbie over there desire Big Guy carnally. Not that he notices; oh no, the Jolly Marine Giant only has eyes for him, serious as a heart attack. Makes him want to mention that these rickety little med cots can’t handle two ranger pilots going at it, let alone three, but of course Yuzuri’s gotta make it a rain out.
“All right, all right, visiting hours are over,” she sighs, and oh, by Princess’s look, this is the first time someone’s tried to shoo Kiki Seiran out of anywhere. “These boys need some rest, not an audience. Just gonna rile ‘em up.”
This guy benches almost twice Obi’s weight, a monster of a man, but the second Yuzuri aims that scold his way, he’s all puppy. “But I wouldn’t—”
“You might behave, but he won’t.” She jerks a thumb back where Obi lounges, pointed. “And if he doesn’t want to play nice, he’ll find some way to drag you along with him.”
Sounds about right, hums a nuisance that has no right to throw stones. Not at this particular glass house, at least.
“Me?” Obi a presses a hand to his chest; harder to see it tremble that way. “Why, I was only going to take a small snooze. A cat nap, really. How could I—?”
“No sleeping!” Yuzuri glares at him, incredulous. “Didn’t I just say you could have a concussion?”
“Aww, come on,” he sighs, hooking his hands behind his head. “First no fighting, now no napping? What else are we supposed to get up to in here?”
Princess hangs in the gap of their curtain coverage, and oh, she may not smile, but that’s one masterclass of a grin. “Strenuous activity.”
“Kiki—!”
“None of that either!” With an officious wave of her hands, Yuzuri succeeds in doing what PDPC has failed to do for years: tell Kiki Seiran where to go. “Now, get. These two don’t need a bad influence.”
“Aww, c’mon, Flo! That’s no reason to shoo Princess out,” Obi whines now that his entertainment has sashayed right out of his evening. “I’m an even worse influence, so—”
“You don’t need to tell me,” she sniffs. “Now give it a rest. Or else I’ll call Shirayuki down here, and she can read you the riot act.”
There’s a time he might have laughed. Might even have let one shoulder and a wry eyebrow do the heavy lifting as he said, I’m sure the Good Doctor has better things to do with her time than worry about little old me.
But a week ago he woke up in one of these cots soaked in his own sweat, ears still ringing from a klaxon that never rang. At least, not in this dome, not that day; his stomach churning from the heady brew of trauma and military grade sedatives. He’d turned, half convinced he’d see either six bodies or and empty room, and instead—
It was her. Tiny ponytail and all, clumps of it making a bid for freedom from that poor excuse of an elastic. A borrowed one,  all stretched out from trying to contain the fallout from Yuzuri’s nuclear-level event that she calls her hair, but it’s serviceable. Enough to bridge the gap between now and whenever Doc finally decides whether she’s gonna bite the bullet and grow it out again, or just chop the whole thing off.
That’s not the sort of stuff he knows about people. Not the sort of stuff he ever gets close enough to find out. But she was sitting right there, head tipped off the back of that chair, breath trembling the little flyaways splayed over her lips, and—
“Fine,” he sighs, settling back into his pillows. “I’ll play nice.”
Yuzuri snorts. “I won’t hold my breath.”
*
It’s when Big Guy lumbers out of their cozy little curtained love cave to go take a piss— or a shit; Obi might be nosy, but even he’s got his limits— that Yuzuri swoops back to his bedside, using his vitals as an excuse to say, “What the hell were you thinking anyway?”
None of her business. There’s a gruffness to that, a texture that implying barbed wire fencing with the prickly bits facing inside. Embarrassment, the kind a boy at the cusp of manhood couldn’t bear with any grace. Not that he had done all that well with other emotions either.
Could never bear being anything but the hero. A taunt, a snipe across the mess hall’s tables. Even in his head those two would never get along.
You can just admit it. Sonisay speaks the way silk would sting, if it could, a smooth stab with no mess left behind. A sliver beneath the fingernail, only noticed when it slips deeper. It’s not as if you were thinking of anything sexual.
Sure. There’s no need for the smile-like stretch over his synapses, too smug. But not from lack of trying.
He appreciates the honesty is the best policy shtick, especially from the girl who always spoke out both sides of her mouth as easy a breathing, but Obi settles on a nice neutral, “What?” instead.
Might earn him the sort of look that begs the question of just what is rattling around between his ears, but it’s better than having to explain that when he closes his eyes he sees red. Not spread out across his pillow or tangled in his fingers, but caught up in plain little hairpins, already slipping free.
“Are you kidding me?” Her gaze darts over the the empty bed beside his, pointed. Oh, so that’s what she’s asking about. “Did you somehow miss how big that man is? He could fit two of you between his shoulders!”
“Aww, Flo, he’s harmless.” Pain shoots up his cheek when he tries to grin, settling somewhere near his temple. Damn, that’s gonna put a real crimp in his game. “Big Guy’s a gentle giant.”
She stares at him. “Half your face is a bruise.”
Obi hasn’t had the pleasure of seeing himself in the mirror lately, but by the way one half of his face feels heavy enough to make him lean like a tower in Pisa, he doubts that’s an exaggeration. “He didn’t mean it though.”
“Doesn’t really make a difference to your capillaries whether he meant it or not.” One finger of hers brushes an eyebrow— yowch— and she scowls. “They’re broken all to shit anyway. God, you’re gonna be lucky if that smile of yours isn’t permanently lopsided from this.”
Already was, but she didn’t ask for his medical history. “I’ll be roguish.”
“You’ll be in PT, that’s what you’ll be.” She pulls back with a cluck of her tongue. “Lucky as hell that he didn’t break your orbital. Ugh, or your nose. That would have been a bitch to set. And your cheekbones—”
A cough, timid for how deep it is, rustles outside the curtain. “Sorry,” Big Guy starts, all doleful hound dog eyes as Yuzuri pulls them back. “I didn’t want to, er, eavesdrop, but…”
He’s smarter than to say, but you told us not to leave. Not to someone like Yuzuri, who’s already ruby red from the collar of her scrubs to her headband, ready to crack out of her shell like a crab left too long in the pot.
“You…I…” She slides out right around him, never once turning her back. “G-go. Lay down. Or something! Ugh!”
Big Guy blinks once at her back before swinging those hound eyes back to him. “Is she—?”
“Embarrassed,” he agrees. Yuzuri’s always happy to share her opinions, up until she get caught. “Big time. She’ll recover. But until then it’ll be your fault.”
“Oh…” He winces, though Obi can hardly tell if it’s from the thought of Yuzuri’s ill-wishes, or the kick he landed on his hip, making what should be an easy walk a bit of a hobble. “I am sorry about that, you know.”
That lantern jaw juts itself toward him, or more specifically, the shiner painted up one side. “This old thing? Don’t worry about it. Got worse from a mosquito.”
If Big Guy is impressed with his bravado, he’s got a funny way of showing it, looking all hangdog like that. “I just…I didn’t really mean to…”
Fuck you up is what the big guy can’t bring himself to say. It’s probably rude to tell him, I’ve had worse.
“No hard feelings, Major.” It’s half a laugh, half a groan as he hauls himself up his pillows, every muscle aching. “I did tell you not to go easy on me.”
A grimace is what he gets in reply, and a pained, “Still…”
The you didn’t know what you were getting into hangs in the air, heavy with implication. Like maybe he’s never fought a guy above his weight class. Like he’s never stood in front of a boy a third again his age, watching his knuckles crack beneath the cloth of his binds.
More like he doesn’t know how much he can mean it, a grim mouth huffs humorlessly. He will though. Give him a few months.
“Didn’t really expect you to try to kill me, though.” For a moment, he’s not quite sure who he’s talking to. He rubs at his jaw, pain scintillating beneath his palm, and, haah, yeah, he knows what fist laid a kiss on this cheek alright. “Damn, no wonder kaiju don’t walk away from you.”
“I wasn’t try to…” It’s funny watching a mountain hunch like that, shoulders riding up again his ears making him a whole range instead a single peak. “With someone who moves like you, there’s only two sure ways to win. I went with the one that relied on power. Wasn’t going to land many hits on you but had to make the ones I did count.”
“And then did too good a job.” That’s the thing with having a body that shares more in common with a jaeger’s chassis than human flesh; the fall back option is to just do everything more and harder. Obi had met more than a few men like that in his time, but none of them so friendly. “I gotta admit though, Big Guy, you got me curious. What’s the other way?”
Big lungs heave big sighs, and oh, this one feels like it could take a few trees with it before he settles back against the headboard. “Tire you out. Quick guys typically don’t have a lot of stamina when things drag on, so—”
“All right, all right, don’t let the ladies hear that one.” Or most of the men while he’s at it, even if Obi’s personal tastes tend more toward the techs tending the tin cans than the bodies they throw in them. “Don’t want anyone to get the idea that I can’t keep up off the mat either.”
That won’t be much of a problem. It’s rare to hear advice from that corner of his mind, but Buma’s habit always was to watch first and speak too late. Not with all the training you’ve done outside—
That’s Need To Know only. Obi casts a long glance over where giant feet nearly hang off the mattress. And I don’t think the Major needs to know.
“Anyways,” he huffs, the sort of quiet career boys get when they’re shy. “Sorry.”
“Aw, c’mon, Big Guy. I asked you to bring me a fight and you did! I’m hardly gonna blame you for that.” He turns his head, grinning at him across the poor excuse for a bedside table. “Besides, now I know what it’s like.”
Those puppy eyes blink, too innocent for a guy who could break him in half by breathing. “Hm? Do you mean—?”
His eyebrows lift —well, one of them tries to— enticingly. The wince probably doesn’t do him any favors. “Kissing your girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend.”
Oh, it’s a real treat to see a lantern jaw drop so hard it nearly shatters. Too bad Princess isn’t here to enjoy it. “What?”
“You know…” His fingers weave through some hazy dips and lazy dives. “I can see what was good between you and High Highness, or whatever. The way you’d could compensate for each other in the drift. But you and me” — his hand flicks between them— “we don’t fit.”
“Oh.” It’s a pleasure to watch his mouth wrap around that noise, to see him really wrangle with the meat of what his meaning. “Yeah. I get it. I think.”
“I mean, for one thing,” Obi says, so casual. “We’re both bottoms.”
“Come again?”
“Kidding, kidding.” Kind of, Sonisay hums, and oh, he could swear he feels that forked tongue flickering where she coils in his mind. I doubt he’d complain if that blonde woman took it into her head to—
Hey. Maybe if he had a mirror, he could give himself a warning look, the kind Doc was always giving him right before he took a joke too far. But instead he had to settle for just thinking louder, like trying to shout over a crowded bar. I still gotta talk to this guy with a straight face for the next twenty-four hours.
Sounds like, that too-familiar voice hums, a real personal problem.
It’s too bad Major Do-Right over there can’t hear the speculation of the peanut gallery; then he might no be so quick to let relief bring those shoulders relax, to settle back into those pillows with a sigh that speaks of a light conscience. What did Yuzuri say? If Obi doesn’t want to behave, he’ll drag you down with him…?
Well, he hates to disappoint.
“Or am I?” The cot nearly cracks down the middle from how fast the Big Guy turns on it, sputtering. Obi just tosses him a wink. “Don’t worry, Big Guy. I’m not the kind of girl who likes to kiss and tell.”
*
For all that their lovely nurse devotedly frets over the potential stupors they could slip into with even the slightest bit of shut eye, or sometimes even something like getting up too fast or breathing too easy, she’s sure eager to encourage them to piss all by their lonesomes one she’s sure they can make the walk.
“What, this doesn’t get you going?” Obi asks, peeking around the door. “I hear some people really get into—”
“I hear some people really don’t get jello at dinner,” she replies, shoving him bodily through the crack. “Wanna see if you’re one of them?”
“What if the stream’s too strong and I get vertigo?” He winces, hearing all those words echo in so small a space, but it’s worth it for the noise she makes outside the door. “What if I crack my head on the floor and get a double concussion?”
“Then at least you’ll be quiet.”
There’s a slam— a door. Not this one, the particle board so paper thin Big Guy could probably sneeze it off its hinges; but the heavier infirmary door, one meant to withstand a mortar shell, maybe even nuclear blast— but Obi doesn’t bother to bite back his grin. Maybe if he’s lucky, she’s run into Suzu on the way to the commissary and give him a full run down of all the ways she could make Obi’s death look like an accident. Some real romantic talk to keep a nerd warm at night.
With shake and a wriggle— how Big Guy managed to move around in here when his elbows keep cracking into the tile, Obi’ll never know— he wraps up his business, sauntering straight out onto the infirmary floor. With no kaiju to keep the place hopping, it’s dark, the only light coming from the lamp angled over Yuzuri’s desk, and from behind their ring of curtains. A nice way to find his way back; or at least it would be if he didn’t already count two shadows there: one hitched up on the bed, shoulder big enough to overflow the outline of the pillows, and the other—
The other’s standing, tall enough to make Big Guy seem normal sized, and radiating authority the same way the sirens do danger.
Ah, fuck. It’s the Marshal. Hide, a cacophony of whispers hiss, which— he’d love to, if there was a single goddamn place to do it.
“I take it this isn’t a social call.” Big Guy doesn’t have a deep voice, not the way the circumference of his chest would suggest, but he’s pitched it low now. Still too much to be contained by a curtain, though.
The Marshal cocks his head, wry. “Would you believe me if I said, ‘yes?’”
There’s a hesitation, a huff that might be something like humor. “No.”
“Then let’s not waste time pretending.” It might be a trick of the acoustics in this room, a little reverb on that tinny echo, but Obi could swear His Majesty sounds amused. “I’ve heard you’ve quite the rapport with our new ranger.”
Oh, hell. As if this isn’t the cherry on top of his shit sundae: not only is he stuck, standing right out in the open as the top brass talks Top Secret, he’s the topic they’re having tea over.
“News travels fast.”
“Danger of living in one of these little warrens.” The Marshal shrugs. “Rats like to chatter.”
Air hisses between Big Guy’s teeth, the way it did right before he threw his haymaker. “Not a lot of people eager to be on the wrong side of the mat from him. Not after the way he and Zen went at it the last time.”
“So you…what?” It’s uncanny how even the Marshal can make his voice; no inflection, no judgment, no answers. “Thought you’d help him keep his edge?”
“He asked.” There’s a rustle, a creak, and even though he can’t see it, he knows mountains are moving to make that shrug. “Not like I’ve got much to be afraid of.”
If one half of his face didn’t feel as ginger as the oldest wicker chair on some grandma’s patio, Obi might take some offense to that. That’s what you get for being so scrawny, a gruff voice scrapes over his ear, everyone underestimates you.
That, hums another, too pleased, is kind of the point.
“Good.” There’s something final in the way the Marshal says it, less like an observation, and more like an assessment. A test passed with much anticipated flying colors. “Keep doing that.”
Obi could cut the consternation in this room with a knife. “Excuse me, sir?”
“Was I not clear?” His Majesty’s tone conveys his confidence that he was. Maybe even too much so. “I’d like you to pursue this…relationship with our new colleague. Foster this tentative trust you have managed to build.”
Ha. Obi’s heart stutter hard enough— loud enough— that even the peanut gallery keeps their opinions to themselves. He should have known something like this would happen; sure, all the paperwork calls Hachimaru a failure, one that should have never flopped its way out of dry dock, but to someone like Izana Wisteria, well—
He’s got a reputation for ruthlessness for a reason. Enough of one that it escaped containment, slipping past the PDPC’s iron curtain of silence to spread around the streets of Sitka. Buildin’ a wall to keep the monsters out, one of the wallmen had chuckled over his pint, but no matter how high we do it, that one will still be in here.
Obi might have called that unfair, once. Sure, His Majesty wasn’t exactly a friendly guy, at least not with the rank and file, though there were magazines enough that showed him being chummy with the higher ups, but, well— pedigree might have put him in a pod, but it wouldn’t have pulled him a position so high above it. No, that only went to the corps' top minds, the ones who knew what it took out there to take your lumps and drag your metal coffin home. The ones who understood what they were asking when they dumped two men out into the Pacific and asked them to stop a natural disaster or die trying.
But if that guy is gonna meddle in his business like this, well, maybe once they finish building that wall, they can dump him over it. Lets the monsters sort it out between themselves. Knowing the Marshal, he’d still find a way to come out on—
“No.”
“No?” The way the Marshal wraps his mouth around the word sends shivers up his arms.
“I can’t do that. I mean, I won’t.” Big Guy snorts, like there’s a stench in the air he can’t quite get rid of. “I’d do a lot for you, sir, I would. Take a bullet. Die for the cause. But I’m not going to…to manipulate that man back into a jaeger for you. Not like this.”
A breath catches in Obi’s throat, nearly choking him. Big Guy’s got a heart of gold, but he can’t possibly be stupid enough to— to—
“Well well.” To his utter surprise, the Marshal laughs. “Good thing that’s not what I’m asking.”
Big Guy grunts. “Isn’t it?”
“If you couldn’t manage to convince my brother into the cockpit, I doubt you’ll have much luck with a man you barely know.” For how casually it’s said, there’s a bite to it, each word honed to sting. “I only meant that he’s not responding to the typically recommended course of therapy.”
Right. Because after that one session with Doc post-drift, all his peanut gallery clamoring to have their turn now that cat had clawed its way out of the bag, he hadn’t been able to drag himself back. And with all the dinners and hallway-run ins they’ve had since, Doc didn’t seem eager to sit him back down on her couch any time soon either.
“But he seems responsive to you, Major Lowen.” Or at least responsive to getting his shit kicked in, whatever that said about him. “Rangers are typically taciturn about their issues. I thought this route might be worth encouraging, since he seems amenable. Sometimes it’s easier for military men to discuss their problems with someone who has gone through the same ones. Especially” —Obi doesn’t need to see his smirk to know it’s there— “if they’re with the same person.”
Obi might not have stuck around under his dome once the dust settled, but he knew all about guys like Lowen. The regulation haircut, the closet full of BDUs, the fondness for field rations and boiled chicken— just a thin veneer of muscle and bravado over a reflex to ‘sir, yes, sir’ his way out of any problem more complex than picking which socks to put on in the morning. He might have stuck his neck out for something that twinged the weather vane that was his moral compass, but now that someone with stars and bars has explained to him that black is white, he’ll—
“That all?” Big Guy’s too nice to spit out the “sir?” but that little hitch before it, that small hesitation— well, sky writing would have been more subtle.
“Yes.” There’s no tone to that one either, no flavor. Just the implacable bite of subzero. “Unless, of course, there’s something you’d like to discuss?”
There shouldn’t be, his tone conveys, clear enough it could be heard in the hangar. Obi could swear he hears Big Guy’s teeth grind from here.
There’s a long stretch of silence, the kind that makes his skin itch.
“Just one thing, actually. Sir.” The bed creaks, and his shadow shifts, pulling straight. “Been noticing there’s a lot of hopefuls hanging around the past few months. Thought they might be clearing out now that all this business with Tyrannis is done.”
The Marshal hums, distant. “There’s hardly any rush, Major. A few sets of extra hands is always welcome.”
“Even when they don’t come with their own ride?”
For once, His Majesty hesitates. “Even then.”
“Even” —Big Guy almost savors his next words— “if they’re Hisame Lugis?”
“Dangerous times makes strange bedfellows.” The Marshal laughs, sour. “Especially ones like Hisame Lugis. Now if you don’t mind” — the curtain pulls aside— “I think our friend might like to use his bed. Isn't that right, Major?”
Ha, a voice tingles in his ear, busted.
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thelastspeecher · 19 days
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Was just thinking about how I know that Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson was a wrestler (hence the nickname "The Rock"), but I forget it every now and then just bc I've only ever been aware of him as an actor.
Which makes me wonder: In WWE AU, do Stana or Angie find new careers when they eventually retire? And do they become household names as a result of this new career?
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left4deadstuck · 2 years
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Karkat, you have been friends with Dave for a while now, and although you have not meet his kids, have you meet his other friends? Does he even HAS other friends you know about?
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Karkat: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY HIS KIDS? YOU MEAN HIS BROTHERS?
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goffilolo · 1 year
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I've been thinking about making this post for MONTHS.
Asta can't sleep because his gremlins keep piling up on top of him like overly clingy cats and by trying to fix it he only makes it worse.
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silvyavan · 2 years
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bday gift for my homie @gothiclolitapl
Asta must take The Hoard to a fancy event and nobody is happy about it
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northen-star · 1 year
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henloo folks!! i wanted to share my top ranked BNHA ao3 fics as RECS (that i've read in the past 3-4 months)
this will definitely be updated in the future!!! (i read wayy to many izuku centric fics lol). most of these aren't completed yet, still on-going but it's worth it. also most of these are DFO LOL
a lot of them are very long fics! ranging from 40k to 300k words. i love long fics.
ALL TIME Favorite Izuku-centric Fics!
1. reconcile by whatagoodegg
2. All For U.A by ScottishSunshine
3. Anyone by GentryChild
4. Kaleidoscope by DripBayless
5. Ascendant by GentryChild
special mention!
it belongs in my heart cuz its chaotic and got me into the izuku, tomura, and yoichi rabbit hole
— Slightly to the Left by InsomNyaC
honorary mentions! (no rankings)
— That time I got reincarnated as a doomed side character by GentryChild
— Fear no Evil by katydid
— Ruby and Emerald AU by ArbitraryCategories
— Dis(associate) by BeyondTheClouds777
— A Spanner in the Clockworks by All_five_pieces_of_Exodia
— Yesterday Upon A Stair by PitViperOfDoom
— Pied Piper by Blackholeca
— Yueei Survival Guide by LowlyWriter
— Wunderterror by rictus_flame
— hero's shadow by feeling stabby
— anything but plain (your golden heart shines brightly) by wawaka
— Kill The Child by Speedwagons_Glorious_Mane
— Reflection by Kocineczka
— Switchblade by Cacid
— Adapting Backwards by Cu3tieCu3pcake
— Long Night in the Valley by Marsalias
— Midori no Yurei by luvlovlvv
— System Synthesis by Royalty_OT7ARMY
— My Mentor is a Gen Z by Shinsomniaa
— Danger First by Marsalias
— Holding Hands by Nebuloase
— etc
Top 10 other BNHA fics (Non-Izuku centric)
1. Internet Friends, by Limited_Edge (AFO + Izuku centric)
2. Mourning and Sky, by AkseeDragon (Tomura & Kurogiri centric)
3. Forgiveness is the Attribute of the Strong, by katydid (Shigarakis and All Might centric)
4. easy does it, by unreemarkable (TDBKDK centric)
5. Not Even An Actual Fucking Disguise (The Shitty Pastel Bakugou AU) , by Anonymous (Kacchan centric)
6. A Study In Firsts, by Oceanbreeze7 (Class 1-A centric)
7. Absolution, by Avardiris (Tommyinnit + Izuku centric, crossover)
8. Marks on My Heart, by Dark3Star (TDBKDK, Shoto centric)
9. Running back the tape, watching it replay, by Faralyne (Kacchan centric)
10. It's not Flesh and Blood, but the Heart which makes us Fathers and Sons, by Ilentari and RianMoeru (AFO & Izuku centric)
i hope you lov3 the fics as much as i do if you decide to read them !!! <333
cuz i sure as hell did lol.
(if anyone haha needs the fic links, reply to the post! i'll be happy to help them! right now i'm a bit tired so i didn't manually put all the links in the post :'))
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omegaversetheory · 14 days
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I've got a very interesting concept: Pseudo-Mate Syndrome. Basically a person gets so attached to someone else that their bodies and minds start reacting as though they are truly mates. Heat/rut syncing up, being repulsed by the scent of other people (especially their aroused scent), being highly sensitive to that person's moods (mating in my verse allows for an empathic bond, and while it can't fully work because it's one-sided and not technically 'real' Pseudo-Mate Syndrome mimics it somewhat) but it's not all wonderful, there is also the issue of Rejection Syndrome.
Rejection Syndrome is just a fancy name for what happens when someone is rejected by their mate. It can cause extreme distress, and heartbreak, grief and even physical illness and pain, depending on how severe the rejection is. People with Pseudo-Mate Syndrome are at much higher risk of Rejection Syndrome because of the fact that the other person hasn't consented to this sort of relationship. Rejection Syndrome is typically not long lasting, only lasting between hours or days. The longest lasting one lasts years and is most accurately called "Grief Syndrome" but it's basically the same thing just longer. The cures for Rejection Syndrome are: being comforted by your Mate, waiting it out, taking your mind off of it (this sounds like an easy fix but it's much harder than it sounds because they become fixated on what happened) or in more drastic situations, medication and/or therapy.
I currently have three people with Pseudo-Mate Syndrome in my story (all of them alphas by pure coincidence. Anyone could develop this condition, Alpha Beta or Omega. But this isn't just a casual crush situation. It's a very serious condition that develops over YEARS of desiring to be this person's mate, and it's pretty rare.) and all of them experience Rejection Syndrome somehow. (One is very susceptible to it because he's got RSD and low self esteem. One experiences Grief Syndrome when he is told his beloved is dead, she's not actually but he believes it for YEARS, and a third has a VERY volatile relationship with his beloved and they fight often)
The treatments are as follows: become actual mates, fall out of love with that person, or take certain medications (worth noting that the medications are just to manage stressful symptoms. There is no medication to make you fall out of love or make the bond go away)
Love hearing about your AU! Please share more sometime!
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pikahlua · 2 years
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Izuku’s doing his best to carry the plot forward.
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The plot could stand to be a bit more grateful for his efforts.
Chapter 4 Summary:
Why won't you talk to me?
Why don't you listen?
I don't know what you want.
You don't want what I know.
Fic details below the cut.
Chapters: 4/? Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, My Hero Academia Ensemble Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, POV Alternating, Action/Adventure, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Curses, Magic, Prophetic Visions, Dragons, Demons, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Swearing, Blood and Violence, Aftermath of Violence, Broken Bones, semi-medically accurate CPR, Childhood Trauma, Near Death Experiences, Minor Character Death, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Self-Sacrificing Midoriya Izuku, technically major character death sort of but it's complicated, just know there's a happy ending, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary:
He spies the soldiers returning after lunch, watches how they get on their knees to bow formally at Katsuki and Aizawa and announce what they discovered of the dragon’s carcass in the woods.
It’s then that Izuku realizes the gravity of what Katsuki has done.
At only age sixteen, following in his mother’s footsteps, Katsuki has completed the rite of succession by dragon-slaying; Katsuki is to be king.
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Two childhood friends grow up dreaming of adventure, then grow apart as their dreams clash. Izuku yearns to be a knight, but the only one who can promote him is Katsuki, who has every intention of keeping Izuku out of the royal court.
When misfortune befalls the land, Katsuki sets out to reunite his broken kingdom, unaware of the secret legacy that enlists Izuku's protection from an ancient evil. The machinations of fate weave a tangled web, and Izuku watches, picking at the threads.
Perhaps they really are cursed.
(King+Knight Fantasy AU with a twist)
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