#I love his kindness and how forgiving he is but nobody is perfect!!!

[rawbin-hsr]

Rating HSR characters in relationships

Title is self-explanatory <3

Characters: Boothill, Dr Ratio, Blade, Aventurine (separately)

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

CW: cursing, mostly fluff and some crack

CW Aventurine's part: toxic dynamics, emotional neglect, jealousy, Aventurine in general

Lmk if there's any warnings I should add!

Had to restrain myself on Dr. Ratio I have soo bad brain worms about him rn he’s all I think about

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Boothill

10/10

DO NOT. AT ME. I PROMISE I’VE THOUGHT THIS THROUGH. I know most people who read that will be like “what the fuck Boothill would NOT be a perfect partner” and that’s where you’re right ! No, he would be an awful partner !

For MOST people. 

But see, he wouldn’t be just ANYONE’S partner. 

If you’re dating him, it means you’re exactly his type and he’s exactly yours. You wouldn’t date a guy like him if he wasn’t exactly what you wanted. He lays out all his cards on the table right away. Your relationship won’t have the chance to even begin if you’re not head over heels immediately bro 😭😭😭

With most characters I can imagine them in a relationship with a lot of different kinds of people. Like for example yeah I can imagine Aventurine both dating someone more reserved and sweet or someone bold and loud. Or someone like Argenti Lord knows that man could love ANYONE (or anyTHING tbh), but with Boothill there’s just a very narrow range of personalities I can imagine him with. Hence the rating cause he’d only be in one kind of relationship. 

You guys are a POWER COUPLE I tell you. It’s SICKENING how much you love each other and how well you fit together. Two peas in a pod. I’m gonna throw up. 

You both love the exact same things, you both HATE the exact same things, and you are both equally deranged and insane

The IPC hates to see you coming 💀🙏

You’re constantly in a friendly competition to outdo each other. Who has the higher bounty ? (Usually him) Who can drink most alcohol before blacking out ? (You, surprisingly) Who can kiss the other the most times during this high-speed chase ? (You always tie on this)

He swallows a bullet. You say “I’ll do you one better!” and swallow a knife. You are a human and so he needs to take you to the hospital so you don’t fucking die

(You both think it’s funny afterwards so it’s okay)

Even when you guys “argue” it’s never really that serious. Honestly you both think it’s kind of hot…… you argue in a devious, sexy way……. *smirks mischievously*

Sorry I cannot take him seriously

You match his freak <3

Nobody fucking likes you together. Separately ? Sure people like you. But the moment the two of you are in the same room it’s like you merge into one singular, horrible, annoying entity and NOBODY wants to be around to see it 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏 neither of you have gotten a lecture about how inappropriate pda can be and also the two of you speak total nonsense it’s incomprehensible to everyone else

Considering putting Boothill on my “do not request” list, not because I don’t like him but because even I don’t understand how the two of you would fit together I can’t write it y’all are that weird

Boothill is for the freaks and he is PERFECT FOR THEM !!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Dr. Ratio

9/10

Okay I’ll be honest I’m not very caught up on Dr Ratio (I briefly hated him I only recently started liking him again HELP) so forgive me if there is some mischaracterisation in this I’m working on it my view on him isn’t complete yet 🙏🙏

Though Ratio is very ruled by logic, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have emotions. Furthermore, he views these emotions as important. Logic is not inherently opposed to emotions, and in fact, ignoring them would be illogical. 

That is to say, yes, he’s an intellectual man. But he also has a high emotional intelligence 😇😇

Like not in the way of knowing how to cope with them. I don’t think he feels many strong emotions regularly (except for annoyance lol), so I think he in fact gets kind of overwhelmed by them around you and never knows how to regulate them properly HELP

But what I meant to say is that, in a relationship, he considers your thoughts and feelings a lot and makes an effort to prioritise them. He does not want for you to be unhappy. 

He values you very highly. He takes all your opinions into consideration and treats them with respect.

He loves you a lot it’s actually ridiculous. He frequently gets annoyed at himself for how much he finds himself downright SIMPERING over you. 

And like yes Ratio can be very harsh in the way he speaks but I think that 1, his care for people (including the “fools” and “idiots” he seems to scorn so often) shows and it shows even more apparently for people he cares about, and 2 I think he realises it would be inappropriate to be as rude as he usually is to you. You two are in a relationship, you are not some stranger. He cannot go around criticising you constantly, that would not be a healthy dynamic. Meaning he softens his vocabulary for you. 

His care for you is very blatantly obvious. In the beginning I think he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection. He hasn’t ever dated anyone, much less been in a relationship, with anyone before you (I honestly don’t even think he’s had his first kiss 😭😭), so I think his inexperience plays a part in it. But he still shows you as obviously as he can that he loves you, and he doesn’t shy away from vulnerability in private moments. 

Bro has researched how to be a good partner trust 🤞

He communicates very clearly with you as often as possible. He hates misunderstandings, and tries to avoid them whenever possible. The two of you are almost always on the same page. 

Whenever you argue, he still does not want you to leave the argument feeling unloved. Type to sigh, let his eyes soften and say “I believe it would be best if we both had some time to cool down”, then squeeze your shoulder as he passes you out of the room. Kisses you goodnight before you go to sleep. It’s often easier to talk it out the next day. 

The only things bumping him down from a 10/10 for me is the fact that he doesn’t have that much time to spare for time with only you (his schedule is very packed), and the fact that he cannot cope with his OWN emotions 😭 Great with yours because he can logistically figure out how to handle them, terrible with his own because they’re affecting his own mind and he isn’t used to it

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Blade

7/10

Surprisingly high rating for a guy like him but I swear I’ve thought about this ok don’t leave 😔😔😔

I think it takes…. A lot. Like a lot a lot. To break through Blade’s tough outer shell

He hates letting people in so much it’s actually crazy

The closest person he has before he meets you is probably Kafka, and that’s not really by his own choice he would shut her out too if he could 😭😭

(Not to say he isn’t like, calm and polite to people. He’s pretty reserved and just, like, quiet ig usually, he only really gets weird and aggressive when the Mara flares up or he needs to be for a mission. I just mean he isn’t gonna be open and available for basically anyone lol)

It’s mainly difficult to GET INTO a relationship with Blade, but if you do manage it, it turns out a lot sweeter than you’d expect

He’s just a deeply tired man. He is not malicious, he is not unnecessarily cruel. He is worn out and sick of living, of never getting the rest he so desperately craves. He finds some sort of respite in you, and so he treasures you. 

He trusts your judgement. He stands by you, no matter what. He’s loyal to a fault once you have him. The worst that could ever happen to him now is losing you. Even when he thinks you’re about to do something stupid (and he always tells you when he thinks it’s stupid), he’ll come with you. Better he’s there to take the hit for you than letting you go alone. 

Even with the smaller things, he shows it even more obviously. He cooks you dinner and lunch every day, so you don’t have to. He lets you decorate his apartment, and he never adjusts the things you place in it, even when it clashes horribly with his own style. He lets you drag him along anywhere, whether it be a concert or a park, without complaint. 

The main downsides with Blade are that he never, ever, verbally tells you that he loves you. Maybe once during your entire relationship he’ll say it, and probably when you’re on your deathbed, but he usually won’t. Even if you try to pry it out of him. 

He can be really mean in the way he says things sometimes, like telling you straight up your ideas are dumb, but it’s always softened by the way he agrees to do whatever you want anyways.

Another frustrating thing is how he cares very little for his own wellbeing. It’s a regular occurrence for him to come home with guts spilling out of his abdomen, and it’s really uncomfortable to see even if you know he can’t die. He can still feel pain, even if he’s learnt to cope with it well. It’s scary to see him so hurt so often. 

But you wouldn’t get into a relationship with him if you didn’t already know all this, hence why I rank him so high. He’s a lot better than you expected when you met him, which means you’re effectively in a better relationship than you’d have hoped 😭😭

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Aventurine

4/10 💀💀

I love him so much (my content is mostly Aventurine centric) but holy fuck man,,,

I have never and will never sugarcoat it Aventurine is TOXIC. Like GENUINELY. I wouldn’t say abusive but he can be really cruel. He gets lost in his own head and takes it out on you in ways he doesn’t really mean to. Aventurine is not a good person. 

He’s fucked up in all sorts of ways and it’s no surprise it could easily destroy any relationship

Trust issues ? Jealousy issues ? Commitment issues ? Attachment issues ? Insecurity issues ? Mommy, daddy AND sister issues ? Every kind of possible issue you can probably imagine ? Yes on all fronts, bro’s the full issue package 💀

It would take a very special kind of person to endure in a relationship with him (I would not be able to do it if he was real I’ll be so honest)😭

When things are good, they’re really good. He can be so fun and playful and sweet and he loves to spoil you and everything that belongs to him belongs to you. He loves you more than the air he breathes and he’d do anything to make you happy

The issue is, most of the time, things are not in fact good. 

I keep mentioning it but his relationships are always such a push and pull. A game of hot and cold. One second he clings to you and begs you to never leave him, and the next he won’t respond to your calls or messages. 

Even worse, sometimes he’ll be outright mean in order to push you away, insinuating you’re “holding him down” and that you’re “wasting his time”. You’ll find yourself questioning if he actually does love you, because what sort of person does this to someone they love?

(It keeps him up at night when he treats you badly. He hates doing it, but he needs you to hate him as much as he hates himself.)

Usually he’s a really smart guy. Even when he does stupid things (things like making a purposeless high-risk gamble, playing Russian roulette), he’s fully aware of what he’s doing. (He does it because he kind of hopes he’ll actually die this time.) But with you, he loses all his composure and can’t really think straight. 

He feels safe with you, and that scares him. He’s a danger to your safety, and it’s better to push you away, make you hate him, than it is to let himself be happy with you. His life is beyond saving, so all he can do to you if you stay is drag you into his mess. He can’t fix himself, not even for your sake. 

He lies to you, he neglects you (sometimes for weeks at a time), he builds up new walls between you constantly, but at the same time he gets insecure and jealous when you hang out with others. Only when you threaten to leave him does he finally start getting his act together, because he realises that now that he’s had you, he couldn’t bear to live without you (even if he knows that’s very selfish of him). 

He gets better with time, but I really, really doubt he’ll ever be fully healed. It doesn’t help that his job wouldn’t really allow it, and he can’t leave the IPC through any other means than death. 

I originally ranked him as a 3/10 (diabolically low rating I know 💀💀) but I bumped him up one because he will get better. If you stick around long enough, he’d probably make it to a 7/10, but since that would take like over 4 years of being in a relationship with him I felt it would be unfair to rank him much higher 😭😭 At the start he really fucking sucks dude I’m so sorry my condolences 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3

[yanderefarm]

I want to spread a rumor about Emil cheating, make sure nobody knows it was me, then act all mad at him and punish him for it

Also ygs better square up Cherros anon and Jerry anon

-🐕‍🦺

ive been craving to hurt emil. rofan villain reader my beloved, a cute husband to bully and all his money 🥰

cw;; abuse, cheating, non-con (implied), gaslighting, angst

the nobles always talk, talk, talk. it's not odd for them to spread meaningless gossip. it's odd when unsubstantiated gossip makes it into the most popular newspaper in the capital and becomes the headline on everyone's lips. that took your whole allowance at the information guild but it was worth it to see your husband's face now.

the pictures were the best touch, you really should thank the guild master later. undeniable evidence of emil being intimate with one of his maids was sitting in front of him on the desk. his advisor was cautiously scolding him for ruining his reputation that he had just started to build up. the image of loving husband dashed in an instant. he started to raise his voice his hand pounding on the table in anger. that was your cue.

you threw the door of the office open with force.

"emil! are you going to explain yourself? why are all my maids talking about you ch-"

your eyes caught the images, you hadn't actually seen them yet. god they were good, they made you actually feel a bit sick to see. perfect.

".... what is that?"

you watch his face drop as all his anger melts into panic. poor bastard tries to cover up the images.

"this doesn't concern you."

"... you're fucking one of your maids?"

the accusation burns his heart and he feels like he's going to be sick. he tries to cover the images more.

"this doesn't-" thwack!

you slap him across the face as hard as you can, your wedding ring leaving an imprint on his cheek.

"everyone get out. i need to speak to my husband privately."

his servants and advisors scurried out of there, afraid of the situation about to play out, only your right hand maid stayed. she closed the behind the last person to leave, locking it for you. you let out a heavy sigh as you leaned against his desk, your hand rubbing your temples. emil didn't look up, his eyes wide but you could see there was fear in them even with his head hung.

you picked up one of the pictures, one where the maid was clearly caught in the middle of having sex with him. you'd been out of the capital a few weeks ago for an event in your home kingdom. really it was just an excuse to let the guild master do what he needed. he really exceeded your expectations. it was hard not to smile.

"i don't remember doing that, please believe me."

"oh?" you set the picture down and shot him a glare. "just because you don't remember fucking her i should forgive you? what about kissing her? what about pushing her against the window behind you?"

"i-"

he watched helplessly as you picked up one of the pictures, your hand shaking. oh, when you got your hands on the royal treasury you were going to drown the guild master in gold. you had told him about emil's hatred for letting you leave the palace grounds, how emil wouldn't even take you to the cafe you so desperately wanted to go to. and here was a picture of him in the same cafe with the maid.

"what is this?"

"i-i don't know."

you forced your face to scrunch up in anger despite how excited you were. you were going to enjoy this too much. you turned to your maid who was still standing by the door.

"do you have my riding crop?"

"yes, your highness." she presented it to you and you handed her the picture of him at the cafe in exchange.

"what would you do if you were in my position?"

"i would ask for a divorce, your highness."

"no-"

emil's poor voice cracked but all he got was another glare.

"then I suppose I'm being merciful, right?"

"you are far too kind to that cheating filth, your highness."

you walked over to stand beside emil who already looked so broken and frightened. you ran your riding crop up his cheek.

"take your shirt off. unless you would rather the divorce?"

emil's body slipped to the ground as his knees gave out underneath him. tears started to stream from his eyes like the dam had finally broken.

"please, dont leave me, please, please."

you nudged him with the riding crop.

"shirt. off."

his hands were shaking as he started to unbutton his shirt.

[thehouseofurmotha]

In all honesty, I'm such a fan of the bakugo x aizawas daughter!reader series (if i can all it that)

I'm in NEED of new oneshots basically anything will do

AHH PLEASE TYSM @kitthefanfickat FOR REQUESTING THIS I LITERALLY LOVE ANY EXCUSE TO WRITE DADZAWA <33

Pt. 3 to loud blonde <3 (as for all of them could be read on its own as a standalone one shot.)

Pt. 1, pt. 2

Summery: y/n starts feeling really left out of her father's life, and her loud blonde boyfriend is there to comfort her and fix the pieces of her that have broken.

Warnings: swearing, angst, mommy issues!! Mentions of mental abuse snd neglect,

You loved your father, and you knew how much he did for you. But sometimes you couldn't help but feel left out of his life. Recently he's started spending the little free time he has training a kid in your general studies class.

Hitoshi Shinsou, you've talked to him on more than one occasion. You and him have a very similar personality, and in reality he kind of reminds you of your father. Which is why it makes sense that he took a liking to the kid. But fuck did you feel like shit.

You knew that your father loved you too, and that there wasn't anything that he wouldn't do for you. But you still, couldn't help but feel left out of his world. The world of being a hero, you suppose.

You've never once regretted your decision to not become a hero like your father. Maybe it was from your mother drilling it into your head as a child that hero's are bad, and you should never want to be one.

For the first 5 years of your life you were raised by a mother who simply did not care about you. Maybe she saw to much of your father in you to ever truly love you. She had left your father before you were born, as a child you fantasized about him coming to save you and take you away from your mother. But even as a child, you knew the chances were unlikely as the chances he knew you existed were very slim. Your mother would tell you that, all the time. She would constantly remind you that no one loved you, and nobody was coming to save you.

For a long time you couldn't come to terms with the truth that your mom was an awful person. You wanted to hate her but she was still your mother. No matter how much she neglected and manipulated you.

The day of your 5th birthday, your mother finally snapped. She hadn't been taking care of you in months, you were practically skin and bones. Your hair was in one huge mat.

As a child, most kids were excited for their birthdays. Not you, your birthday just reminded your mother more of 'mistake' she made by not getting rid of you. You woke up and made your way to the kitchen in hopes she would have made herself breakfast and you could steal whatever scraps ended up left.

You were lucky that morning that she did. Or so you thought, she had went to the couch to watch her show while she ate. And you saw this as the perfect opportunity to eat a little bit of the food she had left over, even if you couldn't have much it was better than nothing.

You quietly dragged a chair over to the stove and picked at the extra eggs and bacon lying in a pan. You thought your mother had been preoccupied, but she must have forgotten something, you didn't really know.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" She screamed some how louder than she ever has at you before. You immediately burst into tears stuttering an apology over and over again.

"I was just so hungry mommy I'm so sorry- I- I won't do it again-" She looked at you with burning hatred as you begged for her forgiveness. You didn't understand what you had done to deserve this.

"Get the fuck out of my house." You sob even harder at this. You were just a kid where were you supposed to go.

"Mommy please-" you beg, you don't want to get kicked out. You just wanted her to love you.

"Get out. Now." She was unnaturally calm while saying this. You kept sobbing and sobbing as you stood on your tippy toes to reach the door handle. Suddenly you were no longer in that house, and surrounded by a cold uncaring world.

You don't know how, but you managed to make it to a police station. You knew that these people would help you. You just wanted to be saved, like the people your father helped. Why couldn't he help you.

You push the large doors open, not without struggle though. You see a pretty woman sitting at a desk in front of you with a kind smile.

"Hi honey, where are your parents?" Her comment makes the tears that had previously stopped come back even harder. No body had ever been that gentle with you.

"M-mommy kicked me out-" You sob and hiccup throughout the sentence and the lady gives you a look of pity. She quickly gets up from her desk and wraps you in her warm arms.

"You're safe now sweetie, you're safe." You shove your face into her chest and sob harder. Never having felt such loving touch. "Can you come with me honey? We just need to ask you some questions so we can figure out how to help you."

You look up at her and give her a small nod. You're brought back into an interrogation room, but the kind lady never leaves your side. She sits in the chair next to you asking if you need anything. She offers you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"don't know what that is.." It's hard for you to admit, you really didn't know what anything was. It was a miracle that you had learned how to talk at all.

"It's a very yummy food, and it'll help you feel better." She adds the second part after heading your stomach grumble. You not giving her approval, "I'll be right back honey." She says this as she walks out of the door leaving you alone.

You pull your knees to your chest. You were so scared, you just wanted your mom to love you.

You wake up from the nightmare, if you could even really call it that. It was nothing but the truth, the harsh reality you had to face that your mom had abandoned you.

You hazily make you way out of bed, tears gently falling from your eyes. You make your way straight to your father's bedroom, it's a Saturday so he should still be in bed asleep. But he's not and an overwhelming panic sets onto you. You go and search the rest of the house hoping that he just woke up early today.

As you're searching you find a letter on the kitchen counter, and it reads

'Hi hun,

Left to do some training with Shinsou, I'm not sure when I'll be home. But if you want me to pick up food or anything on the way home just text me. Have a great day.

Love, Dad'

The letter only manages to make you sob harder. You just wanted your father, and he was just with another kid. With this thought, you started to spiral. With the thoughts that your father's going to leave you, just like your mother did. Maybe you should have become a hero, maybe he'd like you better. You start thinking of all the things you could've done wrong, all the things that could make him hate you like she did.

Eventually you start to recognize that you are not in the state of mind to be alone. But texting your father asking him to come home now seems like the scariest thing ever. So you settle on the next best person.

As soon as you had just simply said please he knew something was wrong. You never invited him over without telling your father. You respected your father to much for that.

As to his promise, Katsuki arrived 15 minutes later. He pounded on the door until you opened it; you weren't sure if it was because he was worried, or this was something he would always do if you didn't wait outside for him. But today you simply didn't have the energy.

You walk over the door quietly unlocking it before sitting back on the couch. Your boyfriend obviously hears you unlock it cause he's bursting through the door a second later. He scans the room looking for you and as his eyes land on your disheveled body, with tears still running down your face.

He gently wraps you in his arms, holding you as close as he can. "Talk to me doll what's goin on?" He just wants to know how to help you. The softness in his voice seems to only make you sob harder.

"He- he's gonna leave me- he's gonna leave- I'm not good enough he's gonna leave-" This only left Katsuki with more questions. Who was 'he'? It couldn't be your father would it? What would he have done to make you feel like this, Katsuki thinks he may kill your father if it was him.

"Who baby? I need to know so I can help you, I just want to help you." He gently rubs your back, the soothing motion help you to start sobbing a little less. But in the moment Katsuki thinks that any progress is good progress.

"My- my dad- he's gonna- he's gonna leave me just like she did-" Katsuki's suspicions are confirmed with this. It was about your father, and he could only assume the she was your mother. He knew a little bit of what had happened. He knew that you didn't have contact with your mother, but that was pretty much the extent to what you had told him. He really didn't know what to do, so he texted the one person who might.

"You good sensei? You look even more miserable than normal." Shinsou and Aizawa have always had a sort of playful banter while sparring. And even though they're on a water break they normally keep it going. And when Shinsou noticed that Aizawa was staring at his phone with his brows creased, of course he was gonna do some teasing.

"Sorry to call it quits early, but I have to go kid. Something's going on with my daughter." Aizawa is really panicking internally, wondering what he could have done to upset you. He doesn't know, he thought you had been fine. But obviously not.

"Oh you're all good, I didn't know you had a daughter Sensei." Shinsou was a little taken aback by that comment. Never having heard about this mysterious girl.

"Yeah.. have a good day Shinsou I'll see you Monday morning before classes."

"Alright see you then sensei, thank you." And with that Aizawa gets in his car has fast as he can. Thoughts racing, he just wants to know what's wrong with his daughter. What he did, so he can fix it.

He doesn't want you to feel like he's going to leave you like your mother did. He never would. He definitely speeds a bit on the way back to your guys apartment but honestly, he doesn't care. He just wants to hold his daughter and tell her that everything will be okay.

He quickly arrives at your guys apartment, due to the fact that it's not very far U.A. He rushes up the stairs to get to get to your apartment.

As he opens the door, he's greeted with the sight of you sobbing into Bakugou's chest. The boy looks up at him with a puzzled look on his face. This tells Shouta that he's made no progress figuring out what sparked this.

Quickly he makes his way to you and picks you up out of Bakugou's lap. The boy goes to resist it but he just sends a glare at him and the boy takes the hint. Allowing him to carefully cradle you to his chest, the way he would when you were upset as a child. This action causes you to only sob harder.

"I'm not leaving hun, I'm not going anywhere's. I'm not leaving." He just keeps repeating that he's not leaving you. And this manages to get you calm enough to form semi coherent sentences.

"Msorry- I was just being dramatic- I'm sorry-" you mumble this out with your face shoved into his chest.

"Honey, if you're this upset it's not dramatic I promise. I need you to tell me what's wrong hun, please. Let me fix this." With a sigh he holds you closer, he just wants to make you feel better.

"I just- I had a dream- more a nightmare I guess- of um- the day my mom you know- kicked me out- and then you weren't here.. and you've been spending so much time out of the house. And I know your training Shinsou and he's a nice kid and would make a good hero- but I don't know- I feel like he's taken up the little bit of time that we would spend together- it's stupid but part of me thinks you like him better because he wants to become a hero and I don't.." Once it starts to come out you just couldn't stop. You had told him everything you had been feeling. He looks at you with a look that makes it impossible to tell how he feels.

"I'm so sorry, kid. I should've thought about you would feel about this, but I need you to know nothing you could do could ever make me love you less, or love someone else more. I need you to know that I'm not going to leave you, not ever. I will not abandon you like she did. I promise I'll make extra effort to hang out with you, I'll call out of patrol tonight. Me and you, as well as Bakugou if you would like, can all hang out and have a movie night. Or whatever you want to do, anything to make you feel better. I'm so sorry." You start to cry again, but this time more of relief than anything. You had finally gotten the reassurance from him that you needed.

"Also hun, I don't care about you not becoming a hero, all I want is for you to be happy and do something you love. And I know analysis is that thing."

"Thank you dad.. but you um- you don't have to call out tonight I'll be fine."

"Nah it's alright, I'll just get Hizashi to cover and he'll do it no complaints." This causes you to giggle, you truly do love your father and Hizashi's relationship.

"I love you dad." You say this with a smile on your face looking up at him.

"I love you too kid."

The two of you sit in silence for a while before you're the one who breaks it. "I think that I want to try and contact her.." You whisper this not knowing how your father will feel about this.

"If you think that's what you need to do, then I'll support you 100%." The reassurance that he's not upset at the idea is comforting.

You notice that at some point your boyfriend had left. You figured that he just went outside, to the benches at the front of the building. Because you know that Katsuki would never leave you with out saying bye.

You spend the rest of the night sitting between your two favorite people feeling more content than you had in a while. And even though there was anxiety about trying to talk to your mother, you know that they would get you through it. And that was all the comfort you needed.

Okay so I definitely meant to finish my Shinsou x reader one shot before I finished this, but I got a little carried away when I started- soooo! Anyways I hope you enjoy! Happy reading <3

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter ten of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: References to sex, Kind of depressing, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, this one is really sad y'all, like REALLY sad, I'm serious this one is really sad.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

1980

“Ben, stop.” You shout.

“Move damn it!” Ben’s eyes blaze a dark green sending a tremor down your spine, but you don’t budge.

“No.”

“Get the fuck out of my way.” He snarls louder.

You stand defiantly in front of him, where he towers over you, eyes narrowed, and shoulders tensed. His broad shoulders block the fluorescent lights that hang overhead and illuminate the gym, dramatizing his imposing figure.

“I’m not going to. So you’re either going to have to move me yourself or you can go cool off.” Your retort your voice icy.

The heat from Ben’s anger vibrated through the air between you, but you weren’t going to move. Not when he was being ridiculous.

Noir was angry, angry that Ben took a movie role that he wanted. In hindsight you also thought it was ridiculous that Ben needed to star in all the movies. He was already America’s First Superhero and the Golden Boy and America’s Sweetheart, but it wasn't enough for him for some reason. You often thought his obsession with fame had something to do with his dad. Ben had a lot of problems when it came to his father, all of which made Ben compensate other ways, such as, feeling the need to be in charge, feeling the need to be loved and accepted by others he didn’t know, being unable to express his emotions, and the current problem which was feeling the need to claim the dominant role as most popular superhero.

Aka when he turned into Captain Toxic Masculinity.

Honestly, you were exhausted. All of this was exhausting. Ben was exhausting.  As someone who’d loved him this long you couldn’t help but see the shift from the boy you used to know into something unrecognizable. Occasionally you could see Ben, the old Ben, your Ben, who laughed with you, but those moments were few and certainly didn’t happen in public.

You shoulders tense with the force of your own anger and frustration, standing tall between Ben and Noir who lays on the ground behind you. Noir hadn't made an effort to get up, still stunned from the blows he took from Ben. The first few punches you hadn’t stopped, but it was when Ben felt the need to continue despite Noir’s pleas to stop that you had to step in.

You didn’t know where that came from, Ben’s need to beat people who were conceding. When he was younger you'd seen Ben get in a fight before, but those few times he hadn't continued to beat the other person when they gave up. The smell of whiskey and reefer floats off his clothes and you wonder how much he’s had to drink. Ben had two moods when he was drunk angry or clingy, and right now the anger was winning. You could hear the mad pump of his blood through his body and you wonder what else he might have taken today.

Because whiskey and reefer isn't enough? If he wasn't so damn indestructible he'd probably be dead from overdose.

Ben’s lip is curled back in a sneer, eyes flashing from where Noir lays on the ground then back to you. You know that he's ten seconds away from ripping Noir in half, and that's why you don't move. Noir didn't deserve that.

The way Ben's eyes burn through the space between you is hauntingly familiar as the memory of the night you hid Ben from his father settled over your mind. You fight the shudder at the comparison.

Ben wasn’t anything like his father. The thought is immediate, but then the memory of the past forty years begins to settle over your mind. Or maybe he was.

“Fucking pussy. Having a woman stand up for you.” Ben snaps at Noir.

Ben leans around you to spit at him, then raises his gaze back to you one more time before he stomps off, slamming the door of the gym so hard that it breaks the glass.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Everyone on Payback was watching you like you were crazy and you partly were. Getting in between Ben and someone else was beyond stupid. It wasn’t the first time, but you knew that you were the only person that could do it. If Countess or Gunpowder had stepped in Ben would not have relented. It had to be you. It always had to be you.

And you hated the weight of that burden on your shoulders.

You turn towards Noir, holding out a hand to help him up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He sighs taking it . “You didn’t have to do that.”

“He’s just being… well. Him.” You mutter.

You hated that this was the new harsh reality, the new Ben that was born when he took the serum and became America’s First Superhero.

“It was incredibly stupid.” Countess sniffs from where she stands with the TNT Twins. Gunpowder is leaning back against the outer ring with Mindstorm who stares unblinkingly at you.

“Well, guess I took a page out of your book then.” You say, narrowing your eyes at her.

You couldn’t stand her. Ever since she joined Payback all she’d done was try to catch Ben’s eye and get between the two of you, but he never gave her the time of day. She had quickly won the favor of everyone else on Payback, which only made you even more angry because it always seemed like you were the odd one out wherever you went.

Countess only sneers back in response, flipping her red hair over her shoulders. Despite Ben's exit the tension in the room is almost choking. Your so-called team was watching you with unreadable expressions and you suddenly got the impression that you were trespassing or interrupting. It had happened before, when you came to a training session early and you walked in on the rest of the team, sans Ben, talking in hushed tones and they immediately broke apart when you appeared.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that despite the fact you stood between Ben and Noir, the rest of the team still didn’t like having you there. Probably because they associated you with Ben. It made you uneasy.

Because despite Stan’s efforts to keep you all together Ben's continuous outbursts drove you all further and further apart. And you worried what would happen the day when the shoe finally dropped.

One look at the clock on your wall showed that it was almost one in the morning, but you weren't tired. All you could think about is what almost happened to Noir. It wasn't that you particularly liked anyone on Payback other than Ben, honestly the whole superhero thing was getting tedious and you had considered more than once getting out.

But you couldn't. Sometimes you felt responsible for Ben, like you were the only thing keeping him on the straight and narrow. Of course every single damn day that road was getting narrower and narrower and now it was more like a balance beam than a two way street.

Ben's new outlook on life that revolved around drugs, women, more drugs, and more women didn't make it easier. 

You frown at your sketchpad remembering when Ben founded Herogasm. You'd gone the first time, regretted walking through the door, stayed ten minutes, and then left.

Sex without feelings never appealed to you, but that wasn't why you left, it was watching Ben with other women that hurt you. You could barely get through it when he mentioned something in passing, but watching him there with them made you uncontrollably angry and not to mention frustrated. You didn't understand him, couldn't understand why Ben was different around you. Didn't know why whenever you were alone he would give you hope, just to take it all away again.

How could so much change? How could everything go to shit so quickly?

You think of all the years that followed the night that Ben asked you to come with him, how you thought that Ben was telling you that he loved you in his own way. But he didn’t. You were realizing that now, as painful as it was to admit to yourself, Ben only saw you as a friend, would only ever see you as a friend.

When you decided to come with him you thought that the change would be your friendship into something else, but it never came, the only thing that changed was Ben.

A loud banging at your door makes your entire apartment shudder and pulls you out of your memories of the past.

There's only one person who can do that.

Your home was a small two-bedroom apartment in New York City, but you loved it. It was quaint and comfortable and each time you came home you felt relaxed because you were able to shut out the life you lived everyday. The small kitchen was barely big enough for two people to stand in, but it made it more intimate and cozy. The living room had a soft leather couch, but no tv despite Ben’s complaints that you should get one. He hated that you couldn’t watch his films when he came over. You liked listening to music more anyway. Your collection of vinyl lined the living room wall in clean bookcases next to a small record player. The spare bedroom served as your studio, not that you were trying to sell your art, but because you needed a place to exist where you weren't a supe and where you weren't in love with Ben. There were stacks of sketchbooks in the studio closet from when you were a child, but you couldn't bear to get rid of them. Sometimes you imagined living here with Ben, cooking in the small kitchen while he read the newspaper, lounging on the couch and listening to music together, and falling asleep on his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around you.

You sigh, pushing away the warmth of the thought, and wave your hand to telekinetically unlock the front door behind you. The familiar purple glow from your abilities fills the apartment. Ben had a key, but you figured he just wanted to make an entrance.

Always the drama queen.

“Got anything to drink?” He asks as he enters the living room.

You glance over the back of the couch to look at him. He's more casually dressed now, wearing a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt the same color of his suit.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop by, see if you’re still pissed.”

“As I recall it was you that was pissed.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Only because you were getting in my way Sweetheart” The way he says your nickname is harsh and mocking, so different than the way the old Ben used to say it. When it sounded genuine, caring, almost special.

“Because you were about to rip Noir apart!” You gesture with the pencil in your hand, snapping your sketchpad shut.

“That pussy deserved it. Thinking he was better than me. I’m fucking Soldier Boy and he’s nothing more than a-“ Ben scoffs rolling his eyes.

“Ben I can’t do this if you’re gonna be like this right now.”  You interrupt pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingertips, still annoyed from earlier. You hated that he did that, when he made you feel like his babysitter, when he made you feel like you had to make apologies for him.

“Like what?”

“High, drunk, acting crazy-“

“I’m not acting fucking crazy!” He snaps.

“Ben-“ You begin with a sigh.

“Fine.” He spits. “We don’t have to fucking talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.” You wave a hand haphazardly towards the kitchen. “There should be some whiskey in there somewhere. Though I don’t think you need anything else to drink.” Your nose wrinkles as you inhale, the smell of stale alcohol wafting back, followed by the unmistakable scent of perfume and sweat.

The super senses really sucked sometimes. Smelling the women that Ben had sex with was an unfortunate skill you had acquired.

“Fuck off.” He rolls his eyes, but waits for a minute eyeing you. “You’re not going to get it for me?”

You ignore his sharp tone and turn back to your sketchpad. “Nope. I don’t want to enable you.”

Ben stomps into your kitchen. It's immediately followed by the loud banging of him searching the cabinets for booze.

He should know where it is, spends enough time here.

“If you break anything, you’re going to fix it.” You shout opening your sketchbook back to the page you were on. You were drawing the Philadelphia of your youth, the familiar streets, the cars, and the women dressed in beautiful outfits.

“My hands are better suited for other things Sweetheart.” You hear him mutter under his breath and you try not to snap your pencil in half. His taunt made you think about Herogasm and the scent of perfume on his skin, and that was the last thing you wanted to think about.

Ben comes back and slumps onto the couch beside you, a large whiskey gripped in his hand. He sighs loudly to get your attention when you don't look up from your drawing.

"Alright, what is it?” You ask continuing to draw.

"Nothing.” He grumbles drinking from his glass.

“Ben, I’ve known you for over fifty years I can tell when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Well I doubt it’s over what you said or did to Noir today. So what is it? What are you not upset about?”

"I just thought it would be different." Ben swirls the glass in his hands.

"What?"

"Being on Payback."

"What do you mean?" You continue to sketch the shape of a woman walking down the streets.

"When I first started doing all this fucking superhero shit it was different. Felt like I was promoting something, now it kinda feels like I’m just here. And no one respects me.”

“They’re not going to respect you if you keep threatening them and beating up whoever pisses you off.” You mutter.

“They might.” He snaps.

They won't.

"Well the way things are going with Russia I’m sure there will be another war." You sigh, thinking about the recent newspaper headlines. Everything was devoted to the Cold War, everyone was afraid of what Russia was doing or what they were planning. Stan Edgar and Legend were talking about some Anti-Communist campaign videos and posters that they wanted you to pose for, but you weren't sure you wanted to.

"You think so?" He sounds optimistic.

"I’m not gonna hope for one, but probably. I get it though. You’re doing all those movies and premieres and photo shoots, it doesn't feel real."

It was exactly how you felt. You felt that all this supe shit was coming to a head and what did you have to show for it? A few pictures of you holding up a car or a painted caricature of you on the side of a jet or a short film with stupid prerecorded lines that made no sense and even more ridiculous outfits that Legend tried to get you to wear. When you got the serum with Ben you thought you’d be contributing something to society, but no. It was just like when you were a child, dressed up like a China doll, made to be looked at but never used.

"I like those movies."

"I’ve noticed." You breathe remembering earlier when Ben almost killed Noir over the movie role.

Noir technically started that, but Ben just took it way too far.

"What about you?"

The question catches you off guard. “What about me?”

"You haven’t done any movies lately. Legend said that you turned down a few films." Ben takes a swig from the glass in his hand.

"Aren’t you afraid that I’ll steal some of your thunder Soldier Boy?” Your taunt. “Because I already saw what you tried to do to Noir today. And I’d rather you not beat me to a pulp-“

“You’re not like Noir. You’re different.”

“Mhmm. Sure.” You sigh rolling your eyes at him.

Ben sits there for a minute. You can feel his gaze on you. “I’d never hurt you y/n.”

The softer cadence of his voice makes you pause your pencil against the page. You knew it was true. Even when Ben was pissed off it was the line he never crossed. Ben never touched you when he was angry, but it never made it any easier to deal with him.

“Hey.” Ben whispers to get your attention, but you continue to look down at your paper. “Look at me.” His thumb comes under you chin to lift your eyes to his.

“You know that right?” Ben’s gaze is soft, you hadn’t expected it to be given the way he entered you apartment and his sullen mood. “You know that I’d never hurt you?”

The look in his eyes makes your throat tight, makes you see the Ben you used to know, who promised to look out for you and who promised to be strong for the both of you. And it hurts more than you thought it would, because you weren't sure that boy was still there.

“Yeah. I know.” You nod, but you don’t smile. You knew it was what he wanted to hear. “You’ve been talking to Legend about me?” You say to make the warm feeling of his touch fade.

He shrugs satisfied with your response, the softness fading from his eyes as he drops his hand. “I was worried.”

You fold your legs up under you. “I don’t know, I didn't love any of the scripts. And I’ve been thinking about getting out. I’ve been doing this so long-"

It was the first time you'd said it aloud to Ben. You'd mentioned it once to Legend and then made sure he never said anything about it. You weren't sure how Ben would react to you leaving.

"What?" Ben's eyes widen in surprise.

"Come on Ben, you’re telling me that you don’t want to have a normal life? Meet someone, have some kids, settle down? We’ve been doing this shit for years. Doesn’t get any easier."

"Sometimes.” He smirks at you. “So who’s the guy?”

“What?” You raise your eyebrows in confusion.

“The guy you’re going to settle down with.”

“What makes you assume that I’ve met him?”

“I mean, I’ve never seen you with anyone. And I’ve never walked in on you fucking anyone. Plus, you never come to Herogasm-“ Ben pauses. “It’s not Noir is it? Is that why you were protecting him today?”

“No.” You scoff, shading the side of a building to avoid his gaze, because how do you tell him that you met the only person you’d ever wanted when you were 8 years old?

“Good.” Ben drinks from his glass. “I do think about it sometimes.” He says it quietly.

“Huh?”

“The house, having a few rugrats.” He shrugs. “Might be nice.”

“Yeah.” Your throat is tight imagining Ben with someone else like Countess, sitting at his wedding, watching him say those vows to someone else. You didn't think you'd be able to just sit there if it came to that.

“How about you and I get married?” He says it nonchalantly.

You roll your eyes. You knew he didn’t mean it. He was just saying it to joke with you like always. Ben never saw you that way, you were realizing that more and more each day, even though it hurt to think it.

“We’d kill each other before we say I do.” You quip staring down at the page.

“Maybe. But really, we’ve known each other long enough-“

“That’s not a reason to get married. Plus, we both know that you’re not a one woman kind of guy and if you're actually being serious about this it would mean that you would have to change-“

You think about it. If Ben actually did want to commit, could he do it? His wandering eyes and hands would drive you crazy if he finally did want to start a relationship. You definitely did not want an open relationship. You wanted Ben to be wholly yours as much as you would be his, because you knew that if you devoted yourself to Ben, he would probably cheat, but then be furious if you spent any amount of time with someone else. You remembered all the ways he acted around Howard. Ben was crazy around him, and you and Ben hadn’t been together.

Imagine what he would do to someone else if we were.

“I can be a one woman kind of guy-“ Ben scoffs. “I can do anything.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” You mutter, but you know he can hear you.

Ben puts down his glass on your coffee table before his hand lays on top of yours against the sketchpad in you lap.

“Y/n.” He whispers. You can smell the whiskey on his breath, but you don’t look up at him, you can’t. Because you know as soon as you look into his eyes you’ll do whatever he wants.

But you didn’t want to be his consolation prize. You didn’t want Ben to marry you because he was bored, drunk, and he thought he might as well marry you. You wanted Ben to marry you because he was 100% head over heels for you as much as you were for him.

He tilts your chin upwards to look at him. Electricity thrums in your veins when you lock eyes, the look in his gaze is open, gentle, almost tender.

It reminds you of the boy you used to know. Lately you hadn’t seen him. If you were being honest, you hadn’t seen him much since the night he came to ask you to come with him, before the serum, when you thought he finally realized that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

The only time you’d see the real Ben was when it was just the two of you, not the angry, macho, vengeful fighter for justice that he put on whenever he was in front of the team or in front of the cameras. You didn’t understand that. He said that showing emotions made him less of a man, but he never seemed to have a problem being different when it was just the two of you.

You hated that. In those quiet moments you felt your heart clench tight in your chest because each time you thought that he would finally admit that he loved you, that after all these years you were the one.

But he never did.

“I could change.” Ben whispers. “I could be with one woman.” 

“Ben.” You take in a deep breath to clear your head, fighting the ball of emotion that has begun to burn at the back of your throat. “You’re drunk.” You breathe.

He blinks a few times as if he can’t comprehend what you're saying.

“You always get like this when you’re drunk. You know?” You pull back from where his hand rests on your chin.  “But you can stay if you want. There’s some pizza in the fridge and I’m gonna take a shower and go to bed.” You stand and step around him, the urge to cry building in your chest.

“Okay.” Ben whispers to the air, because you're already gone, fleeing down the hallway before he can see you cry.

When you step into the shower you allow yourself to break. The soft sobs drowned out by the sound of running water. You wished you could move past this, all of this and more importantly you wished that you hadn’t fallen in love with him. 

Memories of the past lodge themselves in the back of your throat. You remember the day he begged you to come with him to get the Compound V injection, when you left your life behind and chose him. You thought that was his way of saying he loved you, that he couldn’t live without you. You were wrong. It hurt to admit that, but you were wrong. Ben didn’t try to build on the relationship you had, he kept it the same, the friendly banter, the hugs, hanging around with you whenever he couldn’t stand to be alone. He still slept over, but that’s all that happened. You thought that day meant something, that it was the beginning of something, some wonderful romanticized future filled with warmth and love.

You never thought it would be like this.

You didn’t regret going with him often, but on nights like this when it was late and Ben was drunk and he acted differently you did. Because it made you think that there was a chance of a future with him, but then when he woke up the next day sober, it started all over again with him being short tempered and a dick to everyone who was around him.

It was exhausting. And you didn’t know how much more of it you could take.

The only thing you regretted about the serum was that it made you immortal, invulnerable, and that meant whoever you decided to make a life with would die. There was only a handful of others like you and you hadn’t liked any of them except Ben. You wondered if this was your penance for saying no to Howard, your mother's last laugh when she said that Ben would never choose you and now you had to go on like this forever.

You remember the fear that you would be trapped in a marriage with Howard, you never thought that you'd feel trapped with Ben.

But now…

When you walk back into your bedroom, Ben’s already in your bed, laying on his back, smoking a blunt and looking at the ceiling. He's wearing a pair of sweatpants, that you bought him forever ago so he didn't have to sleep in his jeans, and the same t-shirt as before.

“What did I say about smoking those in here?” You sigh, getting into bed beside him, but being careful as to not touch even though it’s all you want.

“It’s a free country doll.” Ben mutters, but he puts it out in the ashtray that you left for him on the bedside table. Because you knew that he would continue to do it even when you told him not to.

The amount of times he ended up here at night always surprised you. Ben might have been bed hopping, snorting, and drinking himself into a stupor but the amount of times you woke up with him in bed next to you was astounding. He’d let himself in with the key you made him for emergencies while you were asleep. It was almost like he didn’t sleep in his apartment anymore and you hated how much you depended on him being there in the morning when you woke up. But the truth was, Ben was all you had, and the thought of losing him scared you. Which meant you continued to put up with the man he became, trying to hold tight to the image of the boy he used to be.

You lay on your back beside him, looking up at the ceiling. The inch of space between your bodies is almost too obvious. “I’m going to go to Philadelphia for a few days.” You breathe.

“Why?”

“My brother isn’t doing too well. His son called.” You say, your throat thick. “He said he thinks that it’s time.”

Your parents had passed a few years ago and Ben had gone to the funerals with you. When Ben’s father had passed, he hadn’t gone to the funeral, he’d drowned himself in the 21st annual Herogasm. And after he showed up on your doorstep smelling like sweat, drugs, booze, and cheap perfume. You’d made him take a shower before getting into bed. The next morning you had woken up in his arms, but more surprising was the fact that he had woken up before you and hadn't pushed you away, in fact he had held you closer to him. You figured that he needed someone there with him. His father had done and said horrible things to Ben, and you kept him company if that’s what he wanted, but couldn’t admit it.

“I’m sorry.” His hand finds yours on the bed. The gesture surprises you.

“Yeah. But that’s the way it is now, I guess.” You whisper, squeezing it.

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t age. Everyone else does. Means that we’ll always just see everyone else go.”

“But not us.” Ben says it like he’s trying to cheer you up.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

Does that mean it’s always going to be like this? Me waiting for him to come here after a 24 hour non stop orgy or after he’s had one two many? Just because he can’t stand the thought of being alone?

You didn’t want that future. You knew that he wanted to be there with you, but it wasn’t enough and it wasn’t the same thing you wanted.

Maybe getting out of this would be good. Put some distance between me and him, let me try to find me again.

Ben is quiet for a minute, the only sound you hear is the thrum of the blood in his veins and his heart steadily pumping it.

“Do you want me to come?” He says it slowly, his thumb rubs against the back of your hand in a soothing motion. 

The question breaks something inside of you, because you wanted nothing more than to have him there with you, but you didn’t want the version of Ben who was Soldier Boy, the loud, angry, short tempered version who was always high or drunk. The one that you felt that you needed to apologize for.

“Nah. It’ll be okay. I’ll get to see my great nephew. He’s supposed to be walking now.” You try to force cheeriness into your tone, but it doesn’t stick.

“Okay.”

You can’t help but wonder if Ben is hurt by your rejection. You did not often say no to him.

He doesn’t let go of your hand though, in fact he brings it up against his chest while he looks at the ceiling.

"Do you regret it?” Ben says in almost a whisper

"Hmm?”

“Coming with me.”

You pause for a second and think about lying, but finally settle on the truth. “Sometimes."

"Why?” Ben's voice rumbles against where your hand lays against his chest, and for a second you think he sounds almost pained.

"We’ve changed so much than who we were back then. Sometimes I don’t recognize myself.”

You didn’t want to say that it was him you didn’t recognize. Or that it always felt that you were running after the boy he used to be. The one that made you feel safe, comforted, made it feel like home.

"I don’t think change is a bad thing."

Of course you don't.

"It is if it’s in the wrong direction.” You whisper, but know he can hear you.

“So that’s why you want out? Because you don’t recognize yourself? Seems like a shitty reason."

“I just think it might be nice to try something new. I’ve been doing this for such a long time-“

“That’s why the films would be a good idea. If you want I can talk to the director about you being a co-star in the one we start filming next week. He won't say no to me-“ It was the closest you’d ever heard him come to pleading, besides the night he asked you to come with him to get the serum.

But why? Was it his way of keeping me with him? Was it because he didn’t want me to leave because he wanted me here? Or was it because he just wanted someone there to sit with when the silence was too much? The silence that seems to follow when he's not with me.

“Ben I’m okay. It’s okay I just want something different.”

“Like what?” You hand is still clutched in his where it rests over his chest and you can't help but wonder why. It was surprising. Sure Ben tolerated the occasional hug, but holding your hand for this long was unusual. You attributed it to the booze. When Ben got drunk he tended to be more clingy, he never admitted that, but you saw it.

“I don’t know. I just want a family again-“

“You have a family. You said you’re going to see your great nephew-" Ben says it like he doesn't want you to leave and it breaks something inside you.

How can he not admit that he cares about me? That he loves me? He has to after all these years doesn't he?

“I know. I mean I want a family. Someone to come home to every night, someone I love, someone who loves me-“ You fight to keep the frustrated tears from falling. The dream of him and you inhabiting your apartment together washes back over your mind in shades of gray. You wanted that so badly.

“Oh.”

“You don’t want that?” It’s taking everything for you not to tell Ben that you want it to be him, that you always wanted it to be him.

“Maybe.”

The silence grows between the two of you as you lay there and Ben still hasn't let go of your hand.

“Did you want to marry him?” He says after a few minutes.

“What?” You look at him confused. Ben isn't looking at the ceiling like you thought, he's looking at you. He almost looks, sorry. And you wonder again how much he's had to drink.

“That asshole." He clarifies.

"Howard?"

"Yeah."

“It’s been 40 years-“ You sigh as if it doesn’t matter. But it does. You chose Ben that night and you thought that him asking you to come with him meant that he was choosing you as well.

“Come on.” Ben squeezes the hand that rests against his chest.

“Why does it matter?"

“Because you’re saying you wanted a family. Someone to come home to and that pussy would have given it to you.”

You pause for a second trying to read his expression. “I like the idea of marriage. Of saying those vows to someone else.” You say slowly. “But I didn’t want to say them to Howard.” You don’t say that you wanted to say them to Ben, don’t say that the night he told you not to marry Howard you thought he was trying to tell you that he wanted to marry you instead.

“So you want to say them to someone?”

“Yeah. One day.” You frown, turning back to look at the ceiling. “You never want to say them to someone?”

Ben doesn’t answer immediately. “Maybe.”

Probably Liberty.

You sigh to yourself thinking about one of your least favorite supes that you’d come across. She wasn’t terrible, just pushy and into supes being united together. You also didn’t like that she felt that supes deserved to be worshiped, that supes were gods, but you knew you weren't. The powers were not random, the gifts were not given by God, they were given by the devil and all those deals came with a price. Even if you tired to walk away, you wondered if Vought would let you go. You also hated how much time Ben spent with her.

The thought of her leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and despite how good it feels, you pull your hand free from Ben's grasp  and turn your back to him, cuddling into your pillow. Your grip is so tight on fluffy material you wonder how it hasn't ripped, but you need to stop talking to him. Talking to him when he was like this made it harder and right now it was taking everything not to cry again.

And you were just so tired of everything. You wondered if one day it would be different.

“Goodnight Ben.” You whisper.

“Goodnight.”

And just as you drift into a dreamless sleep, you think you feel him put his arm around your waist and pull your back into his chest, but when you wake up the next day you forget and Ben is gone.

n/a: Yeah, this chapter is really sad. And I wish that I could say it gets better, but honestly, it's gonna get a lot worse before it gets better. 😭😭😭

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know :)

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@onlyangel-444

[reareaotaku]

Kovu Headcanons

I apologize for this- I will pay for my sins in hell

He wasn't a fan of you at first. In fact, you were rivals. You are a Pride Lander and he's from the Outlands

He hates you in fact. Thinks you live such a privilege life and you don't even realize it

Not to mention your father is that monster, Simba

Oh, how he'd love to take you down a few pegs

Go from innocent and naive to broken just like him

His mother, Zira, enjoys the plan of taking the Pride Lands back and she can use Kovu to do it

When he finally measles his way through to the Pride Lands, thanks to you, he realizes you're nothing like the other Pride Landers

You're not mean, vicious, or hateful. You treat him like the other lions. You don't think he's below you

His mother lied to him. But why would she do that?

He wishes she could see you the way he does

Perfect, amazing, incredible, fun, kind, loving, incredible- Oh, did he already say that?

Oh god, it doesn't matter- He loves you- There he said it

Oh, but your father would never allow you to be together

"Let's run away together! Just you, me, and the land. We can be together, forever. We don't need anybody else-"

"Kovu-"

"Hear me out, Y/n. Do we really need them? We're perfectly capable on our own. We can conquer the world together!"

He just really wants to be with you and he knows nobody will allow it

Becomes very protective over you

Like almost fought your dad- kind of protective

Simba was a little surprised when Kovu stepped in the way between you and him

"Move"

"No." Kovu says, standing up straighter and glaring him down. He was not moving

Nala calls Simba back to talk about you and Kovu

"He seems to really like her"

"He's an Outlander-"

"Simba's!" Nala stands, a little offended by his words, causing him to sigh and shake his head

"He's not good enough for her- Even if he was one of us"

"Oh, Y/n won't like that. She really likes him. I'm scared if you try and seperate them, Simba, she'll leave."

"Y/n's not leaving. She'll stay, I'll be sure of that, but he has to go."

"I'll never forgive you if you push our daughter away Simba," Nala says, but Simba ignores her

He [Simba] has to find a way to seperate you and Kovu...

[sugusearrings]

( ‘ better .’ ) You keep my hand around your neck, we connect, are you feeling it now? Cause I am. You keep my hand around your neck, we connect, are you feeling it now? I got so high the other night, I swear to God, felt my feet lift the ground. I got so high the other night, I swear to God, felt my feet lift the ground. Oh yeah, Your back against the wall This is all you’ve been talking about In my ears Nothing feels better than this.

— summary: gojo satoru is living a life nobody knows about. not even his two bestfriends. he wants you (fem!reader) all to himself. — genre: super fluff but the end :( — playing: better by khalid — note(s): this song reminds me of gojo so much just being happy and living his life. daddy gojo needs a happy ending and come home already! 😭 but i'm so so sorry for the end please forgive me. very brief mention of smut though. might be some spelling errors, kind of tired and lazy to do rn sorry. — word count: 3k

Satoru Gojo is the strongest sorcerer alive.

He is the honored one.

He is gifted with the Six eyes.

And he is one cocky motherfucker. He always knew about the power he contained which did give him an ego boost. Nobody can tell him otherwise, he is the strongest and honored one.

Many would wonder who would put up with Satoru and his egoistic attitude? Underneath it he is very caring of everyone and he can be funny too. Sometimes. Or at least Shoko and Suguru would say. But they did enjoy their snowy color hair friend and of course he loved his two closest friends.

It was just another day of Gojo bragging how he conquered today’s mission. Shoko was texting on her phone while Suguru was ordering a coffee at the cafe they stopped at because Gojo was whining and pleading to go there since last week. Gojo stopped rambling as his perfect shade of blue eyes looked through the glass of the treats they had on display. Suguru noticed his friend eyeing all the sweets. He knew where this was going.

“Are you really going to waste money on all those sweets, Satoru?” Suguru asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Gojo looked over at the raven hair boy and grinned. It was like he read his mind.

“And why wouldn’t I? Shouldn’t the strongest get a reward?”

That’s when he heard it. He heard a gentle giggle coming from inside. The cafe was small so it didn’t take long for Gojo to see you with your group of friends. He saw the group wearing the same school uniform so it was obvious you all went together. He wasn’t sure if you were giggling at him or with your friends.

But it caught his attention.

He was so caught up staring at you he didn’t even hear the cashier trying to get his attention so they could take his order. He waved them off before making his way over to you.

“That was bold of him.”

Shoko said, reaching to grab Suguru’s coffee for a sip. Suguru nodded. He was taken aback by Gojo's sudden action. His dark hues watched as his best friend brought a chair to sit at your table to talk to you. He noticed the faint blush on your cheeks as you laughed at one of his corny jokes.

“Very bold.” Suguru smiled at Satoru coming back towards them with a cheesy grin on his face.

“Not only am I the strongest and honored one, I am the most handsome.” He announced proudly.

“Is that so Satoru?” He chuckled while taking his coffee back from Shoko. Gojo nodded, getting back on line.

“Very much so, Sugu!”

The two boys looked over seeing you shyly wave at Satoru before leaving the cafe. “She thinks I’m very handsome.” He winked at Suguru then turned to wave goodbye to you.

“She probably said that so you can leave her alone.” Shoko chimed in. Suguru chuckled watching Satoru pout like the brat he is.

“Oh yeah? Then why would she give me this?”

Satoru proudly showed your name on a napkin along with your number. Shoko took it to examine it while Suguru’s bangs draped over her head as he leaned over to read. They were pretty shocked his corny lines actually worked.

“Maybe she’s desperate.” Shoko mumbled. Satoru gasped dramatically, holding his chest with his hand.

“Hey!”

“Name..is very pretty. But she’s definitely a non-sorcerer. Maybe she does actually like you, Toru.” Suguru smiled. Satoru was still pouting, and took out his yellow flip phone. “I’ll text, name right now!”

Satoru grumbled. He glanced over to see his slice of strawberry cake ready to be eaten. He handed the cashier his card and grabbed the bag.

A whole day passed and Satoru received no text back. Of course his friends teased him about how you gave him a fake number. He started to lose some hope. Maybe his friends were right. Maybe you gave him the wrong number just so he can leave you alone. It kind of hurt but he wasn’t going to tell Shoko and Suguru that. He really thought you two hit it off the other day.

Satoru was actually in his dorm just laying on his bed in the dark. He was actually nodding off into a nap when he heard his phone buzz. He groaned quietly, reaching over for it. He assumed it was Suguru texting him to ask where he was. But when he saw an unfamiliar number he furrowed his white brows. He opened the text.

hey satoru. it’s me, name.

He quickly sat up and sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes widening and his heartbeat stops. You actually text him.

heyyy name. wat’s up?

Was that too basic? Was that too dry? Shit. Why did he reply so fast?! Now he looks desperate.

Another buzz.

i’m good! srry i didn’t reply yesterday, i got caught up studying and ended up passing out with my book on my chest.

Satoru chuckled lightly, imagining you so tired you slept with the book in hand.

u probably looked so cute like that.

Buzz.

oh please lol

no seriously! but don’t study too hard, don’t want you too tired you’ll forget about lil old me

i’m sure it’ll be hard to forget someone like you, satoru.

He smiled down at his small screen reading over that text.

You confirmed to Gojo that you were a non-sorcerer without even saying it.

You went to regular school and had a pretty normal life. You were raised by a single mother who works in a hospital as a nurse. You had a younger sibling who was in grade school. You hated math but really loved literature. You wanted to be a teacher not so much a nurse because you saw the long hours your mother worked. She didn’t have too much time for you or your sibling so most of the responsibilities were left on you. Your favorite color was blue ( of course he made a joke it was your favorite now because of his eyes - he might be right on that but you didn’t tell him that ). You also had such a sweet tooth.

Gojo decided not to tell his best friends about you replying to him. Maybe it was selfish of him to keep them out of it, but he just didn’t correct them when they asked about you again. Soon it was forgotten and nobody brought you up. Gojo also kept it to himself of his power, him being a sorcerer. He just told you he went to a good private school. Lucky for him, you didn’t ask any follow up questions.

Whenever he had a long mission and it would be hard to text you back, he would just say he was studying for an upcoming exam. You were very understanding because you were going through the same thing. But when Gojo did come home, he would call you.

You two would speak on the phone for hours. He liked the sound of your voice. He liked the silence you two would share on the phone. It could be a whole hour of silence and he was content just hearing you hum a little tune or curse under your breath while you were looking for something you misplaced. Gojo would fall asleep to the sound of your voice late at night. You would tell him goodnight before you went to sleep yourself. Being with you, Satoru was not the strongest.

He was not the honored one

He didn’t need his Six eyes.

He was just Satoru Gojo.

When Gojo didn’t have missions, that’s when you two spent time together. You two would flip a coin to see if you were going to one of his favorite restaurants or one of your favorite museums. The day would always end at the cafe where you two met. You two would share a slice of strawberry cake and each would take a turn eating the strawberry on top. But Satoru would always pretend he would forget whose turn it was and would let you eat it.

When you graduated school, you did invite him to the ceremony. You swore you didn’t see him in the crowd. But he was there, cheering your name so loud it caused you to flush and get a little embarrassed. After the ceremony, Gojo hung out with your family and they adored him. Your sibling thought he was so funny and your mother couldn’t get over how charming he was.

When it was time for him to go, you walked him downstairs. You insist you would walk him to the bus but Gojo rejected the offer. He didn’t want you walking back by yourself.

“Thank you for coming, Satoru. It means so much to me.”

You told him with a smile looking up at him. Gojo felt his throat drying up and his palms becoming sweaty. He bit down his lip feeling his heart race picking up. You noticed he was awfully quiet. You furrowed your brows. “Toru?”

Gojo leaned down to press his lips against yours. You froze up a bit before you could react, Gojo pulled away quickly.

“I-I’m sorry I-I just couldn’t…I-...fuck!” He yelled, grabbing the bridge of his nose dropping his head. You stood frozen not even noticing him having a melt down. When you finally snapped out of it you saw the dark red on his cheeks with a frown. “I-I didn’t mean to cross the boundaries like that honestly, name. I won't ever do it aga –”

You pulled the collar of his jacket down enough so you can kiss him back. His eyes widened behind his sunglasses. He reacted faster than you did, he placed his hand on your cheek and began to kiss you back.

So you two began to date once the summer began. Did much change between you and Gojo? Not really. Your mother and friends were surprised you two just now became a couple. They just assumed you two were already dating.

He was just a lot more affectionate. He would hold your hand anywhere you two went. He would kiss you while waiting to cross the street or hold you from behind. Gojo would take pictures of you or the two of you whenever he could. When he would pick you up he would have a gift or flowers. Most of the time it was both.

He was the perfect boyfriend. Your friends loved him so much he was always invited when you guys would hang out. Even girls night, they would invite Gojo. They love when he would come for karaoke especially.

Gojo liked this life he had on the side and didn’t have to share it with anyone. He wanted to keep you away from that as much as possible. All to himself.

But at the end of the summer, everything changed.

Gojo was late to come over for a date you both planned. He’s never late to anything. He even shows up at least half an hour early. When you were calling and sending texts over and over, you knew something was wrong. So you just waited till it was time to go to sleep.

Late at night you woke up to a pair of cerulean blues staring down at you.

“Gojo?!”

You nearly yelled startled. He hushed you not to wake up your sibling who was sleeping. You sat up and was ready to ask him so many questions. Like how did he get inside of your apartment? Why was he just showing up now? But Gojo fell onto his knees then broke down into sobs. Tears streaming down his now red cheeks. The cry was from heartbreak. You got off the bed to comfort your boyfriend.

That’s when you found out about his best friend, Geto left.

And everything else.

It took a few days for Gojo to explain everything to you. About curses, his mission, his six eyes, his friends, and everything else. It honestly made your head spin. At first you thought he was mad and just making it up. But once he showed you his infinity and tried to get close to him. You physically couldn't. It was like a force field was keeping you two apart. You were dating Satoru Gojo, The strongest sorcerer alive.

The honored one.

Gifted with the Six eyes.

Did that change anything between you two? No.

You just wish he was honest in the beginning but you understood.

It was a lot to tell anyone who wasn’t part of that world.

Gojo barely left your side since his best friend Geto left him after killing the entire village and his parents. He wanted to kill non-sorcerers like you.

“But Toru, Suguru can just come any day now and kill everybody.”

You frowned as you stroked his white hair as his head was laying on your chest. He liked to hear your heartbeat and cuddle into you. He picked up his head with his beautiful blue eyes staring at you.

“You don’t think I can protect you, name?” He asked you. You shook your head sitting up making him sit up.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You might as well have.” He shook his head. You frowned.

“Satoru, it’s kind of scary to hear your friend wants to kill people like me, who aren’t sorcerers.”

“But he won’t!” He raised his voice making you lean back. Gojo grabbed both of your hands and stared into your own eyes.

“I promise to protect you with everything, name. I swear nobody, even Suguru, will never lay a finger let alone breathe the same air as you. I love you so much, name I can’t lose you too. I’ll never let you be in any kind of danger because of me.”

Your face was heating up while you stared at him eyes wide.

“Y-You love me, Satoru?”

Gojo blinked, realizing he confessed his feelings to you just now. He could feel his own cheeks heating up. He let out a chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I guess I got lost in the moment. Just trying to be heroic to my girlfriend.” He laughed nervously. You giggled and placed your hand on his warm dark pink cheek.

“I love you too.”

Gojo gives you his infamous grin before he kisses you passionately. That same night you and Gojo made love for the first time. It was the first time for you both. Gojo could feel himself becoming nervous for the first time in his life. You could tell he was but you reassured him you trusted him. You love him and he loves you. He made sure to be gentle with your body. He would look up at you with his white thick eyelashes fluttering with his blue hues darkening with lust. “Is this okay?” “I’m not hurting you am I?” “You’re doing so good...such a good girl.” “You look so pretty taking me whole like that.”

It took two days for Gojo to finally lose some stamina.

Satoru felt the weight being lifted off his shoulders when he told you the truth. But he still kept you separated from that life. The further you were from it, the easier it would be to protect you. You weren’t mad but some days it was overwhelming seeing him come home with bruises or blood on his clothes.

There were nights you would wait up for him and he wouldn’t come home till the early morning. You did feel helpless you couldn't do more for him but he reassured all he needed was you to be home waiting for him. But you stood by him for all these years. Especially when he brought in two children named Megumi and Tsumiki to live with you both.

After graduating university, you moved in with Satoru. He became a teacher at his old school and you became a teacher in grade school. You grew a bond with Megumi and Tsumiki. Both knew you weren’t a sorcerer but didn’t treat you any different. They both saw you as a mother figure and adored you.

After a long day at work you walked into the cafe where it all started.

Where you met your husband for the first time.

You could still hear his cheerful laugh and his gorgeous smile.

His eyes practically glowing whenever the sunlight would graze against them even with the shades on.

“Welcome! How can I help you?” The cashier asked with a smile. You smiled back already knowing what you wanted to order.

“Hi can I get a strawberry cake,” you started then paused a bit but the cashier was patient, “sorry I kind of got stuck for a second, haha.” you giggled. The cashier nodded and wrote it down on her pad. “Oh also can you write something on it. “It’s a ghoul?” The cashier looked up with a wider smile.

“Because it’s Halloween right?” She giggled. You smiled again.

“Yeah! ” You handed her your card. She gave the card back once she was finished ringing you up.

“I think it’s cute. You’re practically glowing.” She gushed, making you blush a light pink. You walked over to take a seat. You reached into your purse to take out the sonogram you had done earlier before going to work. You smiled warmly seeing your precious baby resting in your belly. You could see the circle they made with the computer with the “IT’S A GIRL”.

You knew your baby was a girl.

Your hand was placed over your slightly swollen belly. Your wedding ring glistening by the light. You checked your phone for the time then you started to look at all the photos you had of Gojo or the both of you. There were some photos of Megumi and Tsumiki. There was a video you took when you told Gojo the news you were pregnant. He nearly broke the ceiling. Literally. You let out a small giggle. You knew he was going to be over the moon finding out about your baby girl.

What you didn’t know was that

Satoru Gojo

The strongest sorcerer alive,

The honored one,

Gifted with the six eyes,

Was being sealed tonight.

[messiahzzz]

as much as i dislike the dialogue option that leads to this scene, i genuinely appreciate gale's response. it is easy to overlook what he is actually trying to convey here and is instead commonly dismissed as him being "overdramatic" or as a display of his bruised ego.

player: it was fine. gale: i see. gale: well, fine is... fine. nobody weeps because the weather is fine. no monarchs were overthrown because their ruling was fine. no artworks were burned because they were not masterpieces, but merely fine. player: would you have rather i lied? gale: the dignified thing for me to say is 'no. of course not. forthrightness before all.' but honestly? yes... i would have rather you lied. gale: i'm just a man. an imperfect one, with needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel. a fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power. gale: perhaps it would be better to not shake such a vessel. gale: forgive me. these were already trying times before elminster delivered his missive. now, for me at least, they are potentially end times.

gale is no stranger to introspection. despite having his natural blindspots, he is fully aware of his flaws and imperfections. he lacks an inherent sense of self-preservation, displays impatience on occasion, can be hypocritical, has trouble handling pointed criticism well, and has a tendency to respond in passive aggression if he feels his competence is brought into question. he seeks admiration and is known to not honor his limitations and own safety for the sake of receiving praise.

gale: [...] people have always commented on my confidence, sometimes my over-confidence, and in one particularly cut throat assessment at university - my 'abject and incorrigible self-delusion.'

gale is not blind to how he is perceived by others, nor does he dismiss their conclusions without careful consideration. instead of deflecting he simply takes what they dish out and files it away for later contemplation and inspection.

player: because you acted the idiot. and paid the price for it too. gale: as always, i endeavor to be invigorated by your candour, rather than eviscerated by it. gale: blunt as your summation is - it's correct. i dared to call myself an archmage while acting the apprentice. the hallmarks of a most excellent idiot, unfortunately.

player: i can't say i share the same high opinion of you, gale. gale: always bringing such candour to our conversations. some would think twice about mocking gale of waterdeep, but you just go straight for the gut. nodecontext: playing along, making fun of himself gale: i like that about you. it's one of your rarer qualities, though i fear my ego can take no more of it tonight. nodecontext: cheerfully accepting the brush off, not taking it personally

needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel.

gale craves as mortals do. for relevance, safety, consideration, loyalty, care, acceptance, and love. he's desperate, he's angry, he's petty and hurt and lonely. he's contradictory, and at times inconsistent. he's afraid, he stumbles, he yearns. if he loves, he does so with all his heart but forgets to extend the same love to himself. he gains understanding only to disregard it later. he is absorbed yet devoted. he expects kindness but is bewildered when it is extended to him in turn. he's neither a perfect colleague, a perfect companion, a perfect lover, nor a perfect husband. he's just another human who's trying to navigate and make sense of the world. who is silently hoping for his soul to be handled with tenderness and care, to finally be seen for who he is —no need for performance or pretense — and to be unconditionally cherished nonetheless.

a fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power.

he knows the burden he carries. understanding that even a momentary lapse in judgment could spell catastrophe if he doesn't exert tight control over his emotions at all times. he knows what is at stake should he lose the composure he painstakingly had to master. a mere moment is all it takes. this self-assessment isn't an "indirect threat" intended to subject pressure on tav or solicit pity, it's a stark acknowledgment of the truth. he is a fragile human, housing powers that should've never been his in the first place.

player: unbelievable. did you ever think what would happen if the tadpole got the better of you? gale: every waking moment. every dreaming moment too. but there was no way out.

he is also keenly aware of how his (former) colleagues perceive him, following his fall from grace.

player: bold. few would dare to reduce a goddess to their 'muse.' gale: i am, after all, the villain of the tale.

this line in particular is one i often think about. it makes me wonder about the extent of information gale received from the outside world after locking himself in his tower for an entire year, setting magical wards so no one but tara would be able to enter. did he hear the whispers? ("shunned by the goddess of magic herself, of course, it was only a matter of time before he flew too close to the sun.") were his colleagues ridiculing him, applauding mystra for cutting off the rot at the source? how did he arrive at the assumption that he is perceived as "the villain" and not the victim?

player: you must have been lonely, with only tara for company.. gale: sometimes. but i imposed it upon myself, after all. i set up enough wards to keep an army at bay, never mind the few colleagues who sought to inquire about my welfare.

or is this solely his own harsh judgment of his folly? that there is no chance anyone would meet him with sympathy, kindness and understanding after what he had wrought. he was too greedy, too impatient — selfish in arrogance, ravenous in ambition. letting delusions of grandeur guide him. he brought it all upon himself with his lack of patience. entirely convinced of his success and skill, blind to the possibility of failure. now doomed to drag innocents into the abyss with him. the hallmarks of a villain, right? after all, who would truly believe him that his ambition hid no ill will?

players: by rights. i should kill you. gale: perhaps that is what i deserve, but you deserve no such thing. [...]

[kairiscorner]

Hi precious🫶🏻

Love your story’s btw💕

I would like to request a scenario where someone is bad mouthing reader (out of jealousy or smt else u decide). While Miguel is hearing EVERYTHING, that is said abt his wifey. Whatever happens next is up to you darling.🫶🏻

Don’t feel pushed to write abt something u don’t feel comfortable with💕

OH MY GOD, SURE THINGGGGGG and THANK YOU SO MUCH ??? I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS TOO !!

not another word. — miguel o'hara x wife!fem!reader

his back muscles tensed up and his nostrils flared as he huffed and puffed, his eyebrows knitting together in a furious look that tried his damn hardest to remain calm. he could not, for the words he was hearing from the so-called 'friendly colleagues' you invited to have dinner at your place were laughing and muttering to themselves under their breaths how naïve you appeared–how you looked so young and stupid, that they were shocked that an 'pretty little airhead' like you became their 'respected' colleague.

"she's got a pretty face, sure, but have you seen how much of a kltuzy butterfingered little thing she is?"

"right? watch out for her, she might woo your husband away from you with that insipid little grin of hers that just makes me want to..."

"she's so annoying, she always keeps offering me her shitty treats that nobody wants–i'm surprised she even has a husband, no one in the right mind would put up with her."

your colleagues laughed amongst themselves as they kept insulting you and calling you names behind your back; you left the living room to get them some of the goodies you baked for them that you took so long trying to figure out how to make them and actually baking them up. you were anxious this whole time if they'd like it or not, but little did you know they were already dreading to taste what you made, not caring how much effort and thought you put into making these treats–and that angered miguel, very, very much.

he tried to calm himself down and remind himself that this was your gathering, he was just going to mind his own business and let you be happy. but he can't be happy if he knows that your colleagues right there that feigned a welcoming aura and a friendly demeanor towards you didn't like you, and all for the stupidest, worst reasons he had ever heard come out of another person's mouth. miguel had enough, he was going to teach them just what happens when they insult his darling little wife one more time.

"then i guess i'm not in my right mind for wanting to stay with her," miguel said in a low, intimidating voice that made all your colleagues tense up in their seats and turn their heads to look at your husband with pursed lips. miguel looked down at them with an angry glare, with hints of a furious red in his pupils. he looked everyone down one by one and noticed they were all frightened of him–good. "but i don't really care if i'm 'not in my right mind' for loving the most perfect woman in the world, i'm not in my right mind–i'm living the best life i can and that's with her." he said as his voice softened at that latter part, thinking fondly of you amidst his anger towards these horrible colleagues who dare take your kindness and generosity for granted.

miguel sighed and furrowed his eyebrows again. "i don't give a damn about who any of you people are, how much you make, or what my wife thinks of you all–which, believe me, is a far kinder judgement than anyone would have of such mundane, cynical people–i will break every bone in your bodies and make you all beg for forgiveness and grovel at my wife's feet if i hear another lick on an insult get spewed out by those disgusting mouths of yours."

miguel spoke that threat with a low growl in his voice, he was becoming a little more feral, which he promised to you he'd keep under control, but he couldn't in this situation–he couldn't stand idly by and let you be insulted by these morons; he can't help his emotions sometimes, but believe him when he says he's tried his damn hardest to hold back on getting even angrier on these colleagues of yours that couldn't even acknowledge you were a sincerely kind soul that just wanted to make others happy.

you soon emerged from the kitchen with a gleeful smile, carrying the delicious treats you made for your ungrateful colleagues. the moment you saw them, they all looked spooked; as if they witnessed dracula or somebody just say he was going to suck the blood out of them all and turn them into human prunes. you chuckled nervously, asking them what was wrong, with miguel standing up from his seat–giving your colleagues a glare of warning–and kissing you sweetly on the lips in surprise and muttering in soft voice, "nothing's wrong, querida. oh, my favorites–i'll have to thank you with something else you like later, hmm?" he offered as he wrapped his arm around your waist, making you all flustered and shy as you tried to remind him you two had guests over. "we can always kick them out, nena, it's fine... let me hold you just a little longer." he whispered in your ear as your colleagues gulped and tried smiling up at you and praising your treats, about how good they look and smelled, how tasty they must be–making you smile wider at the sudden compliments you were getting.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

despite the happiness you thought you were bringing your colleagues, miguel desperately wanted you to know that you don't need to make others happy... you've already make him happy since day one and he's been happier and happier with you ever since that day.

[scoobydoodean]

ppl get mad when dean’s “love” is “conditional”

but don’t blink when others erect “healthy boundaries” and “respectful expectations”

do you think dean is expected to be this idea of perfect, unconditional love in ways other characters are not?

thx

Hey anon sorry it took me a while to circle back to this! I was trying to find a related post for you but I never found it. :(

I don't know if most people expect Dean to be perfect, but I do believe that without realizing it, a lot of people hold Dean to very unreasonable standards and don't believe he deserves boundaries of any kind—including regarding his own feelings. For example,

Dean is often demonized for not trusting people immediately after they have broken his trust (ex: 4.21, 5.02, 5.05, 6.20) in a way fandom would never demonize Sam or Cas for not trusting Dean after Dean lied to them.

Dean is often criticized for not "opening up" to Sam. Not only is Dean under zero obligation to use Sam as a confidant, but the expectation always seems to be that Dean become "ready" to talk on Sam's timeline, and anything outside of what Sam considers to be an acceptable timeline is criticized by Sam and fandom from some cringe pop psychology perspective on emotional health (2.02, 4.09, 13.04). Sam, on the other hand, is never treated as if he is obligated to open up to Dean, and the countless times he says he doesn't want to talk are immediately dismissed as normal and his boundaries are treated with respect.

Dean was criticized by fandom immediately in season 13 for not parenting Jack correctly and not "being there" for Sam. Dean was very clear that he didn't want to be Jack's mother. Dean was under zero moral obligation, at any point, to adopt Jack and treat him as a son. However, portions of fandom consistently—from 13.01—insisted on judging Dean based on a poor "parenting" performance to someone who was not his kid, and who he explicitly stated he did not want parent. Many fans did and still do criticize Dean for not immediately setting aside his grief over Mary, Cas, and Crowley and joyfully accepting a parenting role over someone he had every reason to believe brainwashed his best friend which lead to his demise. (I say all of this separately from how Dean treated Jack as a house guest).

Dean is expected to forgive Sam and Cas on their timelines (season 5, season 15) but if they are angry at Dean, any length of time they might choose to hold things against him—including indefinitely—is justified and often applauded. In fact, you would often find—especially with Sam—fans over and over cheering Sam on for "standing up for himself finally" as if every time of the dozens of times he did that, it was the first time.

Dean is very popularly demonized for not forgiving Jack for murdering his mother. Jack can kill Mary because he was "scared" or "mad" and that's fine but Dean having a single feeling about it is out of line to this fandom. (As an aside—no—I don't think soulless Jack killing Mary was an accident based on how soulless!Jack described it... but either way it doesn't matter when it comes to how Dean is allowed to feel about it.) Mere hours after the incident occurs, Dean is expected to be flowering Jack with love and forgiveness, and the fact that he didn't makes Dean a monster.

Dean is demonized for putting Jack in the mal'ak box and when the episode aired (and again—continuing to this day within the fandom) it was framed by and large as if Dean was the sole perpetrator of that act, while Sam's role was brushed under the rug or fans straight up insisted Dean somehow "forced" Sam to go along with him (despite Sam very clearly being fucking terrified of Jack). Cas, a single episode later, enquiring about putting Jack in The Cage is also completely dismissed. Nobody gives a single fuck.

Dean saying (he thinks privately to Sam) he doesn't consider Jack family after what happened with Mary. I'll make myself abundantly clear: Dean has every right to feel this way. And let's be real—if Sam said he didn't see Jack as family, almost nobody would give a fuck... which goes for everything on this list?

Which brings me to the why of this ask.

Part of the reason Dean is held to different standards is down to some of fandom's desperate need to perpetuate Dean's childhood parentification by holding him responsible for everyone in his life. Because Dean is Mr. Parentified Child, he MUST accept Jack as his child because that's who Dean is—a defacto parent to everyone in his life, destined to be treated like the universe's mommy and then judged for doing a bad job at a task he does not have the power or authority to handle as if he did have that power and authority... and if he complains he's a selfish, cruel, evil monster.

Another reason is Dean's overarching role in the story, as the narrative heart and the hearth of the house. You cannot miss, in SPN, how central Dean is to the concept of belonging somewhere—of having a home—of being loved. I've said before that Dean's love is practically regarded as a human right in Supernatural. Dean really represents the idea of being loved at all—the intrinsic human need to be loved and accepted by others.

Sam or Cas could say they don't love someone, and it would just be taken as a personal opinion with no greater weight or significance. If Dean says he doesn't love someone, that carries a very special meaning to the fans and has a very special impact on the character who hears it. And while it may hurt another character to hear that from Dean... it also is not fair, in any sense of the word, to treat Dean's love as something everyone is entitled to—to deny his personhood and autono-[gunshots]—to act as if he is obligated to force himself to love everyone—as if that wasn't deeply unfair and also literally impossible.

One of the reasons Jack instantly attaches to Dean like a baby duck in season 13 despite Dean's cold, grief-stricken exterior while Sam is standing right there being "supportive" (besides Sam's poorly-concealed ulterior motives) is that Jack implicitly understands that Dean, whether he wants to be or not, is the Winchester family house. In order to ever feel like you belong in that house—like you are in that family—Dean has to love you. Fans also understand this whether they know they do or not. They know it doesn't matter if Sam says "You're family". If Dean doesn't say it—if Dean doesn't feel it—it will never feel real. Because of this, fans feel an entitlement for Dean to bestow instant love and forgiveness on their faves in a way they would never ask that of Sam or Cas... and they also perceive Dean as aware of his unique role and often perceive him as using it to control others or make the family a dictatorship... when Dean is literally just being a normal human being with boundaries and feelings, who did not choose to be perceived in this way, and whose feelings do not simply stop existing just because of this unfair perception of him and how everyone else is tying their self-esteem to him in ways Dean has zero control over... and their needs do not trump Dean's right to boundaries and feelings as just a guy—as just a human being!

[adamnablelittledevil]

"There is Lestat, first and foremost, the author of four books of his life and his adventures comprising everything you could ever possibly want to know about him and some of us. Lestat, ever the maverick and the laughing trickster. Six feet tall, a young man of twenty when made, with huge warm blue eyes and thick flashy blond hair, square of jaw, with a generous beautifully shaped mouth and skin darkened by a sojourn in the sun which would have killed a weaker vampire, a ladies' man, an Oscar Wildean fantasy, the glass of fashion, the most bold and disregarding dusty vagabond on occasion, loner, wanderer, heart-breaker and wise guy, dubbed the "Brat Prince" by my old Master - yes, imagine it, my Marius, yes, my Marius, who did indeed survive the torches of the Roman Coven-dubbed by Marius the 'Brat Prince,' though in whose Court and by whose Divine Right and whose Royal Blood I should like to know. Lestat, stuffed with the blood of the most ancient of our kind, indeed the very blood of the Eve of our species, some five to seven thousand years the survivor of her Eden, a perfect horror who, emerging from the deceptive poetical title of Queen Akasha of Those Who Must Be Kept, almost destroyed the world. Lestat, not a bad friend to have, and one for whom I would lay down my immortal life, one for whose love and companionship I have ofttimes begged, one whom I find maddening and fascinating and intolerably annoying, one without whom I cannot exist.

[...]

But Lestat was calling. Lestat was, or so he claimed, afraid. I had to go. The last time he'd been in trouble, I hadn't been free to rush to his rescue. There is a story to that, but nothing as important as this one which I tell now. Now I knew that my hard-won peace of mind might be shattered by the mere contact with him, but he wanted me to come, so I went.

[...]

Of course I knew the very moment that he left this world. I felt it. I was in New York already, very near to him and aware that you were there as well. Neither of us meant to let him out of our sight if at all possible. Then came the moment when he vanished in the blizzard, when he was sucked out of the earthly atmosphere as if he'd never been there. Being his fledgling you couldn't hear the perfect silence that descended when he vanished. You couldn't know how completely he'd been withdrawn from all things minuscule yet material which had once echoed with the beating of his heart. I knew.

[...]

I didn't fear for Lestat, not really. I had no hopes for his adventure, except that he would appear sooner or later and tell us some fantastical yarn. It would be regular Lestat talk, for nobody aggrandizes as he does his preposterous adventures. This is not to say that he hasn't switched bodies with a human. I know that he has. This is not to say that he didn't wake our fearsome goddess Mother, Akasha; I know that he did. This is not to say that he didn't smash my old superstitious Coven to bits and pieces in the garish years before the French Revolution. I've already told you so. But it's the way he describes things that happen to him that maddens me, the way that he connects one incident to another as though all these random and grisly occurrences were in fact links in some significant chain. They are not. They are capers. And he knows it. But he must make a gutter theatrical out of stubbing his toe. The James Bond of the Vampires, the Sam Spade of his own pages! A rock singer wailing on a mortal stage for all of two hours and, on the strength of that, retiring with a slew of recordings that feed him filthy lucre still from human agencies to this very night. He has a knack for making tragedy of tribulation, and forgiving himself for anything and everything in every confessional paragraph he pens. I can't fault him, really. I cannot help but hate it that he lies now in a coma on the floor of his chapel here, staring into a self-contained silence, despite the fledglings that circle him for precisely the same reason as I did, to see for themselves if the blood of Christ has transformed him somehow and he does not represent some magnificent manifestation of the miracle of the Transubstantiation. But I'll come to that soon enough. I've ranted myself into a little corner. I know why I resent him so, and find it so soothing to hammer at his reputation, to beat upon his immensity with both my fists. He has taught me too much. He has brought me to this very moment, here, where I stand dictating to you my past with a coherence and calm that would have been impossible before I came to his assistance with his precious Memnoch the Devil and his vulnerable little Dora. Two hundred years ago he stripped me of illusions, lies, excuses, and thrust me on the Paris pavements naked to find my way back to a glory in the starlight that I had once known and too painfully lost. But as we waited finally in the handsome high-rise apartment above St. Patrick's Cathedral, I had no idea how much more he could strip from me, and I hate him only because I cannot imagine my soul without him now, and, owing him all that I am and know, I can do nothing to make him wake from his frigid sleep. But let me take things one at a time. What good is it to go back down now to the chapel here and lay my hands on him again and beg him to listen to me, when he lies as though all sense has truly left him and will never return. I can't accept this. I won't. I've lost all patience; I've lost the numbness that was my consolation. I find this moment intolerable."

THIS CHAPTER ISN'T OVER YET AND IT'S ALREADY PEAK INSANITY OMG

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

Starlo apologist speaks again

this picture right here.. i hate it sm.

TIME TO DEBUNK EVERYTHIN', YEEHAW!

#1 Starlo's name is uncool on purpose might literally mean 'Starloser' It fits his character arc. In other words, he's not the cool, badass sheriff he pretends to be (he's not 'North Star'), but a kind, friendly farmer inside

#2 He definitely DOES care about Clover. Why else would he keep saying he's proud of them, praise them, believe in them, get worried about their safety, send them a warning letter, immediately run to check what's going on with them, get angry at Clover for not staying HOME (yeah he really did consider the Wild East their home) tell Martlet to bring Clover to safety, and jump at Ceroba to try and protect them? don't question the love of star daddy

#3 Undyne actually IS a badass. Starlo isn't. He's a softie who cares about pretending to be cool bc he's insecure, even when in a situation where he could die. He wants to be a hero. He wants to be SOMEBODY, not a NOBODY. Maybe he also cared about his own status more than his town, friends and family (which could be the reason he brought a bb gun). Or he just wanted to buy time so the others could hide. Now that I think about it, it's the latter. Why else would Dina say this in genocide after you kill Ceroba: "He was more of a hero than you'll ever be." That's the whole point of his geno fight that, and a lil bit of angst when roba finds him dying IT'S CALLED CHARACTERIZATION

#4 He kidnaps Clover bc they're a human. The only human who's ever set foot on the sands of the Wild East. He's obsessed with human culture. His whole life ARE westerns. Why? Whether it's the sense of justice cowboys represent, the exciting lives they live, or both, Starlo feels like he matters thanks to this nerdy interest, like he can contribute to his community

#5 i see Martlet as a big sis not a mom bc of how young she is, despite that one joke in bits & bites, but to each their own Star jails Martlet bc of the potential of the Wild East getting shut down. She did threaten to report them to Asgore and well... according to him, better safe than sorry. He even admitted he doesn't feel right doing it

#6 It WAS wrong of him to blame and attack Clover like that, all for his own status and ego (and to get his friends back) It's called a flawed character making a fucking mistake. Or did you expect someone perfect, with no room to grow and develop throughout the piece of media? Also, Clover is not an infant, they're a child. If it was meant to be a joke, it ain't funny bucko

#7 he either actually forgot about the fact he himself kidnapped Clover bc he wasn't in the right mindset (understandable), or purposefully ignored the information to avoid responsibility for his actions & shift the blame onto Clover (he IS flawed and thats more than ok)

#8 in neutral, he doesn't apologize bc Ceroba doesn't come and snap him out of his fantasy & mindset

#9 he did his best with the apology. you can't blame starlo. He's not very good with expressing himself and emotions in general (that he has been avoiding for so long via escapism; he also uses escapism to help Ceroba instead of talking openly with her)

#10 he doesn't know how the ceroba & clover interaction played out bc he was unconscious. Maybe he thought Clover had managed to talk her outta fighting. He says in true pacifist "Yall had a fight?? and the deputy won??" In other words he didnt know they had even fought. To add fuel to the fire, his bff just died and star, being the forgiving sweetheart he is, had wanted to give her a chance at redemption, but never got the chance to. He never got the chance to say goodbye, either.

#11 just bc starlo's an adult doesn't mean he can't have these flaws/behaviors. Every individual is unique. Starlo is deff deeply insecure and most likely autistic, too. Please think about that in the future, thank you

my current feelings can best be described by good old Axis

[bluestarjay]

Tsukihina for the soullllll

Tsukishima knows he's an asshole. But he's not a sociopath. Obviously, he felt bad for being mean.

But one time, he was no worse than normal with his insults, and hinata backed away, almost a look of horror in his eyes.

He does that often. After coming out of his shell at school and in practice, he actually had a kind of decent poker face. But his emotions were always clear in his eyes. He could always find his emotions and intentions in the mixed layers of brown and gold.

He never wanted to be responsible for that look of horror, though.

Hinata had stomped off to a small nearby park, which left tsukishima to think. He thought about his brother, how he'd been lied to, and how that had probably left him with the need to be brutally honest, regardless of whether it hurt someone's feelings. He didn't care if a girl cried when he rejected her; he wasn't entitled to accept her feelings.

Quite frankly, he didn't even like girls. His brother had once given him a magazine designed for kids his age, around 13, in which there was an article about the best ways to get a girl to like you. There were tips about dates and gifts to get the girl you liked. There were drawn little love hearts all over, and even then, before he'd found out about akiteru, it didn't interest him. He'd decided that maybe he didn't like girls and gave the magazine back. That was clearly the right decision because here he was, worrying if the boy who had just stomped off in angry tears (thanks to him) was ok; if he would ever consider to be his friend. He wanted desperately to be friends with hinata. He just didn't know how to blend their contrasting personalities yet. But hinata probably wouldn't want to be friends with him, not after being a dick to him all year,,, But hinata was a very easily forgiving guy,,,

So he followed hinata to the park. Hinata has never been particularly violent, but he loved to break things when he was angry. He could easily smash bottles against a wall, or large sticks against a tree, as he was now, or just crushing something in his hands. Once or twice he had accidentally crushed shards of broken glass, leaving small cuts all over his palms. Tsukishima had noticed them, but never asked where they'd come from. They would study together, even though Tsukishima insisted that it would be the last time and that he hated tutoring him, and as hinata wrote increasingly more and more aggressively as he got more frustrated, he always searched for the scars. He noticed one at the top left side of his palm, one on the very tip of his middle finger, and one in between his thumb and index finger. On his right hand, there was a long and faded scar across his knuckles, which he assumed was from punching something. He wanted to look for the rest of the scars.

As he watched hinata beat a large stick against a tree, with chunks of bark flying off, he couldn't help but think of akiteru. He came up behind him and grabbed the stick from him. "I'm sorry." "Have you ever considered that maybe you don't need to be such a dick to every single person just for breathing? You said that kageyama was the king because he's a dictator on the court, but you're just as bad! You think you're better than everybody else and then you laugh when they get angry. And it doesn't help that you're basically perfect, either! You look different from everybody else cause of your blonde hair, but nobody cares because at least blonde is an attractive color! And not to mention you're just already attractive on your own! And you get perfect grades, and hoardes of girls confessing their love to you. You have the perfect build for volleyball, and no one judges you because you don't 'look right' for your position, and you're stupid talented and everybody on the court gets jealous of you, no matter how dumb you are to realize that. It also doesn't help that I'm basically in love with you, but what do I know, I'm just a dumb shrimp, right?" He'd started crying again in the middle of his rant, and tugged the stick out of tsukishima's hands to hit it against the tree again. Of course, Tsukishima immediately looked to his hands to see the scars that lingered, and noticed a cut from the branch. He looked to his eyes to see the tears, and so much pent up anger. "I think I'm basically in love with you too, shoyo. Im sorry. I never meant the things I've said to you. I thought it was easier to push people away and be an asshole than to be hurt again. If you'd give me the chance, I'll make it up to you. I'll buy us some meat buns." Hinata looked back, laughed, and dropped the stick.

They talked through their feelings for the next few hours, eating meat buns, and Tsukishima carefully took care of the cut on his hand.

[thisismeracing]

Twisted Love | MS47

― Pairing: Dark Angel!Mick x fem!reader ― Word count: 3.3k ― Warnings: +18; suggestive content and a quick description of sex (p in v); mentions of a fallen angel, assault, and stalker behavior; description of horror situations and death (but not too graphic). ― Summary: The rule is clear for all celestial beings: to love the Almighty beyond everything. They can’t share the feeling. It is perpetually prohibited for angels to get fond of humans, especially the protector angels. They are the ones who will follow their human on earth and protect each one. Those Angels and the humans are the same pairing throughout time. Mick watched Yn die and come to life in different forms each period, and he fell. In love and from Heaven. Years after searching for Yn, he found her again, and he’s ready to get what’s his.

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“I slithered here from Eden, just to sit outside your door.” — Hozier, From Eden

He knew the rules. He had friends who disobeyed it and had to pay the price: to leave Heaven. And nobody wants to leave the Heavens. Mick never judged them, but he always questioned himself as to why would someone freely give up their position, their friends, their home, and their God, for something that could only be classified as temporary when put side by side with the world known by the celestial beings.

Up until he met you.

Up until he watched you die and come back to life.

Up until he protected you in every lifetime.

Up until he couldn’t resist but visit your dreams.

Up until he finally realized he was in love.

With a human.

Mick Schumacher was in love with you.

A guardian angel was in love with his human.

He was cast out of Heaven by the Almighty who did it with so much mourn and pain, that the other celestial beings almost tried to change His mind. But nobody questions the Almighty's orders. Rules were made by Him and they were meant to be followed. It doesn’t matter if it was one of His favorite angels.

Mick still remembers what he said to him before judgment day.

“Son, you can still regret your sin. You can still change your mind, and the Heavens will forgive you,” the powerful voice echoed around, and Mick kept his head low.

He could only think of you. And how your skin felt against his. How beautiful you looked sleeping. And how angelical your laughter was.

“Father, you always talk about love, so why don’t you let your beings love?” he asks, and though if the question came from any other Celestial the Almighty could read it as some kind of disrespect, it came from Mick, so he only sighed.

“You can love me, I’m your creator, your ruler. I made you the way you are Mick.”

“Then why are you punishing me for following my instincts and feelings? If you created me the way I am, then it’s your fault I’m choosing this path!” he retorted, finally lifting his eyes to the sky. The most beautiful sky to ever exist. The kind of thing that no human eyes would support.

“Enough!” the Almighty’s voice reverberated around the void and clouds. “You’re being cast out of Heaven, son. And your human? She just died. You’re gonna have to find her again. Good luck, Mick.”

And so he walked around the earth, he flew around the sea, he looked at each corner until he could finally find where you were reborn. Where you had reincarnated.

And when he finally did he followed you like a shadow. Just like he did when he was your guardian angel.

And Oh- you were so beautiful, so perfect. Mick loved staying by your side while you worked, spooking a male coworker here and there. He would walk home with you, just observing as you smiled widely to everyone who passed by, how you were so full of life, how you were still the woman he fell in love with. The one he fell for. Quite literally.

–

It was a Friday night, it was a happy hour from work at a bar three streets from your building. You weren’t in the mood to party, but your friends insisted, and your boss was always so adamant about having everyone together, you did not know how to say no to the invitation.

That’s how you found yourself sitting at a barstool, your lips a bit numb from a shot of something you didn’t know. Your body was lighter and the tipsy feeling made you giggle at everything three of your coworkers would say.

Mick was watching from the shadows, a mask of invisibility around him while he assessed the dangers around the place. And his blood boiled when he saw the guy who was eyeing you from the beginning buying you a drink from across the bar, tipping something on your cup before asking for the barman to give it to you.

He transported himself to a dark hallway and walked to you just when the drink was put on the wood counter, the contents of whatever the man had added settling at the bottom of the cup. Mick took advantage of the place where you were sitting and pretended to sit by your side, accidentally knocking your cup.

“Oh- oh my, I’m so clumsy, I’m really sorry,” he used his best mask to pretend it wasn’t his intention. To draw your attention to him.

You turned ready to complain, but the second your eyes met his big blue orbs your voice died down, trapped in your throat along with your heart from how fast it started to beat. He was so beautiful, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander from his angelic face to his white button down, some of the top buttons opened showing just a hint of blonde chest hair. You gulped. He was wearing blue jeans too, and a pair of Converse shoes. What a marvelous view, you thought.

“I can buy you another drink to make up for it,” he suggested after some seconds of silence, and you gulped, before giving him a nod with your head. “I’m Mick, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

He extended one of his big hands and you shared a glance with your coworkers behind you, one of them giving a thumbs up as if approving the way Mick looked. You giggled, and turned your body fully in his direction, taking his hand in yours and feeling the chills run down your body.

“You seem familiar,” you muttered.

“I’ve read somewhere that blonde guys are starting to catch up with the brunettes on statistic numbers,” he joked, lifting just the corner of his lips while his eyes attentively scanned you.

You let out a chuckle, finally touching his hand with yours and stopping for a beat. His skin felt warm, and it was like her whole body was lit up by a simple touch, “I’m Yn.”

“Sorry for your drink again, Yn. Though I think I may have saved you, it looked awful from what I saw,” he pointed to the glass that only had a small sip, the liquid a strange green shade.

You made a face at the contents, “What are you having?”

And Mick grinned internally. You were being forward. You wanted his company. He knew you didn’t usually try to make conversation like this. He knows you prefer your silence most of the time. Knows you like the back of his hand.

“Whatever you’re having.”

“Well, I had a few glasses of gin and cola, but I can totally follow you with beer if you want.” Oh, you were so sweet. And so thoughtful.

Mick smiled and shook his head, “I don’t like beer,” because you don’t like beer, Yn. And I’m the perfect guy for you, “I’ll have gin and cola too, sounds tasty.”

Your eyes lit up, and a small smile graced your lips.

And so he kept you company for hours. Drinking and talking. You were so carefree, laughing at all of his jokes, and cracking a few too, to which he would throw his head back and present you with the perfect view of his milky neck. You so wanted to kiss and lick it.

From his peripheral vision, he saw the guy who tried to drug you walk to the bathroom. Mick excused himself and followed him. His wings were twitching on his back, begging to be set free so he could fly to the highest spot and drop that little shit from there.

When he opened the door, the guy was washing his hands and turned to him, instantly recognizing Mick as the man who stole his victim of the night.

“Your motherfucker, I was-”

Mick furrowed his brows and stared deep into his eyes.

There are things that the human eyes aren’t ready to process yet. And that’s exactly the form that he showed the guy. The form that shut his mouth, making him gasp with utter terror. Mick smiled, closing his eyes and coming back to his blonde skin, eyes now completely dark, inviting the man to jump into the unknown darkness. Something that would certainly kill him.

“Please,” he tried to plead, but nobody messes with you and lives to tell a story. Mick was still your angel. It was still his duty to protect you.

He felt satisfied when the guy dropped at his feet, mind haunted by the worst demons earth could house, and body a few seconds from death.

Mick brushed invisible dust from his shoulders, before walking back to the bar. An enchanting smile on his lips when your eyes found him in the crowd.

“That was quick,” you jabbed and Mick chuckled, fitting his body right beside yours instead of sitting at the barstool.

“I missed you, had to make it quick, or else my heart wouldn’t take it.”

You giggled, turning to him. One of your elbows at the wooden counter. Mick turned too, fitting between your legs that parted just right for him.

Looking up at him it was like you were the angel. His angel. His goodness.

He loved you. He worshiped you. And it felt heavenly when your hands reached for his shoulders, bringing his face down to yours and crashing your lips in a tentative kiss. You flicked your tongue shyly, and Mick almost moaned, holding your jaw and your waist, and opening his mouth for you to deepen the kiss.

The material of his shirt was soft against your palms, and so was the skin of his neck when you moved your hands there and threaded your fingers between his blonde strands.

Mick tasted like alcohol with a hint of something sweet and fresh, and you almost moaned when he sucked your bottom lips into his mouth, grinning into the kiss.

You stayed like this for a bit, kissing here and there, talking, and sipping your drinks. Your coworkers were long gone. And when you got ready to leave, Mick offered to walk you home which for some reason you accepted.

His hand laced yours while you walked down the dark streets, and you never felt so protected in your life the way you felt at that moment.

You had just met him. You had no justification to trust him. To show him where you lived. To ask if he wanted to enter your apartment. But he had such inviting eyes. Such a way of holding you. Of you speaking.

He looked like an angel.

And that angel waited right at the threshold waiting for whatever you would say after you got inside.

Mick wanted to do it right.

He had entered her house so many times, but now it would be different. You would invite him. You would house him. He remembers one of the verses of the Book of Life where the Almighty says that he’s at your door, and he’ll only get inside if you ask him to.

Well, he’s ready to be your everything, but he wants you to invite him to do so first.

You turn around, a hazy smile on your lips, “C’mon, Micky, don’t be shy about me now. Get inside,” you finally verbalize. “This is my house, I don’t share it with anybody, no roommates, I promise. You’re welcome to get in.”

You’re welcome to get in.

I don’t share it with anybody.

He grinned. You share it with him now.

Mick walked inside.

He took his shoes off and walked to your kitchen watching you try to heat some frozen pizza.

That night Mick fed you, bathed you, and laid with you in bed, making sure to leave just before you wake up and pretend he slept on the couch.

That morning he made you breakfast, adding an extra strong black coffee to help you with your headache. He also asked you on a date and kissed you when leaving – which he didn’t do, because he was always there. He wasn’t from Heaven anymore, but he was still your angel, he would always be your angel.

That month he asked you to be his girlfriend. You discovered his surname, and that you had more things in common than you thought that night. You discovered that he was a biker and that he spoke several foreign languages. He had gone to the military, but never into war – his skin was too flawless for someone who had, no scars, except for two on his back, which he explained were from a car accident.

Life with Mick was perfect. It was like he could read your mind. He knew what you needed at the right time, he would order you food when he wasn’t around, and cook for you when he was. He would show up to pick you up at work with flowers. And he would whisper the dirtiest things in your ear while maintaining the purest face.

Just like he was doing now.

“Tell me who you belong to, Yn,” his order was smooth, just like the skin of his stomach that was gliding over yours while he thrusts into you at a slow and deep pace.

You whimper, hands going to his back, fingers finding his scars, and gripping his body closer to yours, “I- I’m yours, Mick. All yours. Only yours.”

He paused with his lips in front of yours, breathing you in right before tasting you. It wasn’t long until you both dissolved into pleasure. His fingers trace your curves, while you lay your head on his chest.

He was so good at aftercare.

He was good at convincing you.

He was good at everything.

You never thought he was good at murder too.

It was a Saturday night and you were walking home from the same bar you met Mick. You had just met with some coworkers and decided to walk home. And you would have texted your boyfriend for him to pick you up, but your phone died, and you didn’t want to bother Mick, he was probably fixing the new bike he got last week.

What you weren’t expecting was a guy to come out of nowhere in front of you. He was huge, and he smelled like alcohol. You don’t even understand whatever he slurred. When panic finally kicks in, and you’re ready to scream, but his hand finds your mouth, while the other one grips your neck.

You remember your mother telling you that you must have a strong guardian angel, remember her telling you about the day you were born, and how they almost lost you. And so you pray for him. Pray for whatever bigger force could hear you.

And he shows up.

Mick shows up.

You called for him. Granted, you had no idea he was a fallen angel, an angel nonetheless.

Your angel.

And you were so innocent, so vulnerable, you needed Mick, that’s what he would tell himself, mainly because he was already following you. He always was.

You reminded him of his portrait in a mirror years ago, back when he was innocent too. Just an angel. One of the Almighty’s favorites.

But he wasn’t innocent anymore. He had fallen. And fallen angels don’t mind killing people that get in their way. So that’s what Mick did. He gripped the guy’s neck and held his face in front of his making sure his own back was turned to you. Mick showed him what the worst things on earth could look like, and how they looked in hell. The guy tried to look away, tried to close his eyes, but he had glanced at Mick’s black orbs, it was too late. Before his heart would stop, before his mind would get too hazy to understand everything, Mick twisted his neck and threw his body to the ground.

When your boyfriend turned to you, your eyes bulged still trying to grasp what just happened. You pointed to the guy on the ground, and Mick just nodded making you even more scared. How could your Mick kill someone? The sweet and kind Mick. The attentive, and soft-spoken blonde guy had just made whatever magic and killed someone.

“Love,” he called, and you shook your head trying to make your legs work. “Don’t be afraid,” he tried to reason, but your mind finally caught up with your body and you started running unsure of where you were heading since he had the keys to your place. Hell, he basically lived there!

“Yn, don’t run from me,” it was one of his soft orders, but this time they didn’t bring butterflies to your stomach but rather made your body prickle with fear because the second you turned your head Mick was flying in your direction.

He had big black wings with some golden feathers. It was beautiful, but scary somehow, just as everything new is.

You ran as fast as you could but it was nothing compared to how fast he could fly, and when Mick reached you he laced his hands around your body and flew up. You watched the gleam on his blue eyes, the way his milky skin seemed lightning, his dark wings enveloping you. He was still beautiful. Still, the whole moment felt like too much and your mind shut on you.

–

Waking up to Mick watching you wasn’t new, but this time it felt different especially because he still had his wings. They had retreated somehow, looking a bit smaller than earlier, but they were still here, and your breath hitched when you realized that it wasn’t a nightmare.

“I- What are you?”

“I’m an angel,” he stated, and your brows furrowed. “A fallen one. I was your guardian… still your guardian somehow,” his simple and direct explanation made you sit up and dig your hands into the bed cushion feeling dizzy all over again.

“An angel?!”

Mick nodded.

“You killed a man…” you shuddered.

He huffed, fingers going through the golden strands of his hair, “He’s not the first.” Mick’s confession makes you scramble to get up, “In my defense, they all tried to do you harm, and I would never let someone harm what's mine.”

He was so calm about it you wanted to laugh in disbelief.

“And you learned it at what… the third book of the Bible? No wonder you’ve fallen.”

His features twist.

“I was cast out of Heaven because I chose you instead of the Almighty.”

You tremble, head shaking in denial.

“Not possible. That’s sick…”

“I love you.”

“You don’t love me! What kind of twisted love is that where you kill people for me?”

He grins, “The best kind. You said so yourself you love me back, you also said you’re mine. You welcomed me here into your life, and I won’t leave.”

You gulped. “Mick, please. No.”

His eyes softened for a second, and you felt for yourself because he somehow looked like your Mick. The one you loved. And if he asked you something you would do it.

“You want me to prey on you?” he smirked. “You know you can’t run from me.”

Your love castle came crumbling down in the blink of an eye and along came your tears rushing down your face.

“Please,” such a mournful sound. Mick shook his head. “You’re a monster!”

“I’m your monster, love. You can’t deny it.”

With his wings fully retreated Mick appeared in front of you. When his lips find yours you try to push his shoulders and bite his lips, but he moans into your mouth, and the feeling of his muscular form and soft lips makes your brain shortcut. You’re open for him like his favorite meal on a silver plate.

“I waited too long for this. You’re mine, and I’ll hunt you down if you ever try to leave me, Yn.”

And your mom was right. You had a strong guardian angel, however, nobody accounted for the fact that he would be obsessed with you. Looking for love you ended up stumbling into something close to there, but also close to hell.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you liked the piece! This is the last one from the spooky pieces I tried writing hehe hopefully this is as good as the previous ones. I wanted to add a huge shout-out to Coffee (my coffee emoji anon here on Tumblr) for proofreading this <3.  Let me know your thoughts on this and make sure to reblog and leave a comment because Tumblr is being a btch and not delivering my stuff properly :( *mwah*.  

Ps. You'll notice that I make a lot of references throughout this piece, but none of them are intended to hurt beliefs or represent my vision of things. This is purely a work of fiction, and I tried my best to avoid using specific elements, choosing to go with "Almighty" in some moments and be a tad vague. I hope this doesn't come across as some kind of disrespect or anything. *virtual hug*

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[sopiao]

hey!! i love your writing so so much oh my god. your account is just perfect– if it's not too luch to ask (and forgive me if this is a little long) can i request headcanons with taskforce 141 + masc reader???

reader's kind of distant from the rest of the task force. they all get along with him just fine, does what he's asked to do on missions and all that, but he just feels kind of... absent. nobody really gets what his deal is, but they've gotten used to him. (BONUS POINTS IF HE ALSO WEARS A MADK HE DOESNT TAKE OFF THAT OFTEN... i wanna be cool too </3)

one day he wakes them up, and (to their surprise) tells them that he had a nightmare. this is the softest his voice has ever been and the most he's ever opened up– just. fluff and comfort lolz :p

FIRST TIME WITH FLUFF OR COMFORT!!!

i’ve always had a hard time writing this kind of stuff but i’m cleaning out my inbox so.. ^^

SORRRYYY IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS >3<

it sorta implies angst?? like the nightmare is something serious of an issue?? idk

(Callsign will be Anon to make it easier for me ☹️)

Anon has always been distant, keeping some space and never really contributing to any of the conversations x But they still treasure him just as much as each other. They understand that some people just have a hard time with stuff like that or just don’t wanna get into it in general.

Soap and Ghost always makes constant visual checks to see if he’s still part of the group, since he’s always quite as a mouse it’s hard to keep track of him. Price would make sure to save a seat for him whenever he’s a little late. And Gaz would always check up on you from time to time.

They make sure you felt part of the team. Just because Anon doesn’t really have a deep connection with any of them doesn’t make him any less one of them.

—

In the middle of a mission they all had to sleep in a safe house for the night. A rather small one since they had to share a room together. Sleeping bags all lined up across the room. One soldier found it hard to get at least a wink of sleep. Price’s and Soap’s loud and grumbling snoring didn’t really disturb them since it was practically white noise to him now.

After half an hour Anon finally found the ability to be carried into rest. It was peaceful for a while. Until he woke up violently, body twitched when he woke up from how intense it was. He found that it was hard to keep his breathing under control and try to focus on one thing. Physically and emotionally.

He put this off as a last resort and tried everything to calm himself down. But when all else failed he turned to Ghost beside him. Reaching for his mask and hastily pulling his mask over his head, hesitating before bringing his hand up to shake Ghost awake, he’s a light sleeper anyway.

“What? What happened?” After a second to comprehend what was happening he sat up and looked around, thinking something happened, like someone broke in or someone found them. But once he saw his comrade’s, somewhat, relaxed but worried eyes and stopped.

Sitting up fully and comfortably, he asked if everything was alright. Judging by his lack of response Ghost nodded, immediately understanding and not making a big deal out of it since this is way out of his comfort zone.

“Go on.” He nodded his head, sitting next to him and relaxing against the wall, still half asleep but still willing, very willing, to listen and comfort if needed. Ghost listened intently as Anon began to explain and mumble out what happened in his sleep.

“Uhm.. Fuck— Now that I’m thinking about this, it sounds stupid—” Looking down and fiddling with the edge of his sleeping bag Anon’s interrupted by Ghost.

“Just tell me. You’ve already got me up” He’s probably not the best one for comfort, but he knows he’s trying, not the best with his words, but he’s willing to listen.

It stuns him for a second with his bluntness, but chuckles lightly, knowing that he really does wanna listen. He starts to explain, second guessing himself every couple sentences, but slowly he gets more comfortable with sharing.

Halfway through Soap starts to stir and move in his sleep, making both stop and just stare. Turning around to see both sleeping bags empty, Soap immediately sits up and searches for them, only to see them off the side, sitting together.

“Oh.. shit..” He calms himself down, both Ghost and Anon look at each other before looking back at Soap. He slowly sits up and crawls over to where they are, next to Anon so he’s between Ghost and Soap.

“What’re you two doin’ up?” Somehow his accent is deeper when he’s half-awake. Slouching back against the wall, almost leaning on Anon’s shoulder.

“I couldn’t sleep after.. a.. uhhh… nightmare” Anon was hesitant to explain, wondering if waking up his friends were really worth it, hoping that they wouldn’t make fun of him. Soap just hums in response.

“Nightmare? Al’right. Continue” To Anon’s surprise, Soap wants in too. He looks back to Ghost who just shrugs and nods, silently telling you that it’s up to him whether he wants to share or not.

Before Anon can even start again, both Price and Gaz wake up, both confused as fuck, but following along, dragging their sleeping bags over to him. They were all now wide awake, Price laying back in his sleeping bag, arms crossed, half-awake but still lucid enough to understand stuff coherently.

Anon started to explain again, relaxed to see how supportive his teammates are with how little they really know about him. Once he got to a certain part of the nightmare, the part that really made it a nightmare, his lungs felt tight once again.

Suddenly his mask felt so thick and concrete, he had to lift it up to his nose to breathe. Blubbering out apologies between breathes as they tried not to stare too much.

“Nah, nah. You’re fine” Ghost reassured him through his mutters, rubbing his back to try and soothe him. It didn’t, but it was something. Something that they were there to listen.

“Don’t force yourself if you don’t wanna tell” Gaz nodded, not wanting to force Anon to go too much out of his comfort zone, in the chance that he changed his mind and wasn’t okay with sharing this kind of stuff.

“I’m fine.. fine” Anon nodded his head, realizing how much of his face he exposed and tried to cover it up with his hands so he can still breath. But for those couple seconds that his lower half of his face was open. A large, old, scar decorated his lips, diagonally going from the top right to bottom left, almost reaching his chin.

With something so unexpected being exposed, the fact that Anon even reached out, it made them all alert to watch out for his emotions and how he’s feeling. But what was most surprising for them, was how he talked. It was usually so stern and short, always getting straight to the point. Almost robot like. But now, it’s softer, more warm but sorta confused, he fumbled in his words a little but it was just so different than how he is out on the base.

An hour has passed, but now that all of that is out of Anon’s head, and everything, almost everything, was off his chest, the sleepiness started to catch up to him. In the midst of Ghost explaining how he was feeling and the possible reason for it, Anon was already asleep, snoring softly as he struggled to keep up.

They knew that this was something you’d never do. So it was a sort of shock for him to break his blocked off demeanor. But it made them feel good that Anon even considered venting. Even if it was something small like a complaint or something annoying, they wanted him ti let it out.

(this has been in my drafts for forever T-T)

[ikamigami]

I always personally disliked Eclipse as to me, he was just Moon but without the title of "brother"(not that that made Moon's treatment okay, if anything it makes Moon worse because siblings should NEVER treat their other siblings like Moon treats Sun)

I get how he's angry and traumatized from being trapped in Moon's mind but what he took from it was completely incorrect, instead of realizing the one who did this to him was Moon, Moon discarded him and locked him away, he never realized Moon had ensured Eclipse couldn't be heard by doing that, he seriously thinks Sun was ignoring him when Sun flat out had no clue he was there and likely the Fazco techs never noticed anything and Moon likely lied to Sun that there was nothing there because he knew Eclipse was there, Moon is solely to blame for Eclipse's situation, and YET he blames Sun, who's just as much of a victim as him, he seriously saw what Moon was doing to Sun and his own situation and somehow went "Sun's the bad one"?

It's just like how Moon blamed Sun for their shared situation even though the Creator made them that way on purpose and Fazco let them rot, and neither he or Moon ever realized that had they been nicer their freedom would've been achieved faster? Sun was more than willing to help Moon and tried extending a hand to Eclipse despite thinking Eclipse caused July 16th, but both made themselves out to be serious threats to Sun's life and other people's lives and gave him no choice

It makes me wonder if Eclipse inherited part of Moon's hateful grudge towards Sun for locking him away, but just like Moon rather than realizing Sun actually had a good reason for that(aka he had no other choice, it sucks but nobody helped him, he didn't have the ability to do anything else, and Moon kept killing people, seriously what is he supposed to do?), it wasn't out of selfishness or malice, and Sun would've rather never had to do that to Moon, he would've rathered they coexisted, and Eclipse, despite claiming he's better than Moon, never grew up enough to realize that?

It also didn't help that after July 16th when he introduced himself he made himself out to be the bad guy, Sun and Moon had no idea Bloodmoon was a thing, to Sun all he knows is there's another presence in his head and it just killed all those people, and to Moon, he knows exactly what's in Sun's head and he thinks that that's what caused July 16th because he knew he left the killcode in there like an idiot, and what does Eclipse do when he makes himself known? Takes over Sun's body to laugh in his face, good job incriminating yourself for a crime you didn't commit

I half suspect the reason why he's so cruel to Sun is, like Moon, he knows Sun is too kind(Eclipse thinks cowardly but he's wrong) to fight back, ergo, there's no consequences to hurting him, because he'll keep being kind and forgiving, that Sun is easy prey, and we know both he and Moon think that because both are shocked when they shove Sun past his breaking point, which takes a lot, that and the fact that they enjoy hurting Sun, Sun's they're perfect victim since they could be endlessly cruel and torment Sun and Sun for the longest time never fought back, and both of them enjoyed hurting Sun, if Moon and Eclipse tried this with anyone else it'd backfire, heck when Eclipse tried manipulating Earth back when he had the Star he flat out failed because she was not cowed by him whatsoever, and Lunar eventually left him after he had enough and Lunar even killed Eclipse when Eclipse pushed him too far…Speaking of

The guy literally built Lunar to be his perfectly loyal and loving little brother and yet through his cruel behavior and him hitting Lunar Lunar ran away, he managed to drive away somebody he built to be brainwashed for and unflinchingly loyal to him, that's both a testament to his cruelty and how even when he's presented the perfect opportunity to not be alone, to get what he wants, to be loved and have a family, he ruins it with that aforementioned cruelty because he like Moon can't help himself, even if he "learned siblings act like this from Sun and Moon" does that really make it right?

Another thing I wonder is if he built Lunar to be like how he perceives Sun to be: always loving, always loyal, childish, stupid, naive, and selfish, and yet then we see how that backfires as unlike Sun, Lunar would not tolerate Eclipse's abuse, he would not forgive Eclipse if pushed too far and would take action against him if Eclipse kept going, that the love he had for Eclipse to begin with faded when Eclipse hurt him, which goes to show how Eclipse's perception of Sun(seen through Lunar) completely misrepresents and is inaccurate to who Sun actually is, people like to cite how Eclipse might've killed Lunar out of spite because Lunar "betrayed" him, if Eclipse held the role of Moon and Lunar was meant to be Sun in their dynamic, Lunar went against the script by standing up for himself and cutting Eclipse out of his life, as opposed to Sun who even now gives Moon a chance after everything, but that's just an idea

Eclipse has always tried ruining Sun's life and hurt him, it goes far beyond retribution(retribution for crimes Sun never committed) into torture, and he always think terribly of Sun, that Sun is a weakling, a coward, worthless, just as selfish and evil as he is, and that Sun deserves to suffer, and there's no excuse for that no matter what reason there might be, some might say "he's mad at Sun for not fighting back against Moon", then why did he decide to double Sun's suffering rather than try to help/encourage him to be stronger? If Eclipse was so lonely and wanted companionship Sun was right there! It's also clear that this isn't the reason since he would always call Sun a coward and just like Moon beat Sun down any time Sun did stand up to him, him blaming Sun for his imprisonment is stupid as it was Moon's fault, not Sun's, others might say "he hates himself" and so what? You don't tear others down to make yourself feel better that's what bullies do, and then there's the reason that I suspect for his behavior:

He enjoys it, he likes hurting Sun because it's fun for him, we've heard him laugh about it before, that he believes all these incorrect things about Sun and therefore he feels justified in being awful to him, and when Sun's not his personal punching bag Sun's his tool for getting petty revenge on Moon

Also for that matter, why did he never seriously confront Moon on abandoning him? If Eclipse is deserving of any kind of justice then by all rights he should chew Moon out for sealing him away, he's more than in the right for chastising Moon for that, yet that never happened weirdly, and why not start to heal from that through therapy and/or introspection rather than just lashing out at everybody?

He, like Moon, absolutely refuses to even entertain the idea that he was the one in the wrong and will jump through every mental hoop he can to avoid that, it's never "hm maybe I did something wrong" and it's always instead "it's everyone else but me" or "I'm bad so what", he never realized that most of the bad things in his life were his own fault

Sun fighting him for control? Sun would've shared if Eclipse wasn't an active threat to him and Moon, Sun hating him? He tortured Sun to his breaking point, Lunar disowning him and allying with Sun and Moon? He abused Lunar badly enough to chase him away, Bloodmoon becoming a loose canon? He discarded Bloodmoon when he fulfilled his purpose and became too unruly for Eclipse's liking, the Star slowly killing him? He sat on his hands having an existential crisis rather than using the Star to upgrade his body in an instant so it wouldn't kill him like every other Eclipse with the Star did, Sun and Nexus killing him? That's the culmination of all his terrible actions finally catching him

I could go on, and yet he still wonders why he's lonely, it took the guy dying four times, one being to Lunar, and being turned into a puppet by Ruin and later Dark Sun for him to finally give some sort of apology to Lunar, but never to Sun, to his first victim, he says he's done hating and yet now we're seeing him continue to be spiteful and bitter towards Sunlight and Moonlight in the new dimension and feel vindicated in his abuse of Sun through dealing with Sunlight

Like seriously why don't people want him to ACTUALLY improve and be a better person? I don't want him dead, I want to see him improve, or at the very least actually earn making a new life for himself by making amends with his old victims, he did that with Lunar, who not Sun? If he does apologize to Sun genuinely and recognize what he he did rather than running away I'd die happy…

Sorry that this is long and with all the talks on Eclipse's regression I wanted to pitch in

You're absolutely right, dear anon 👏

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me ^^

I don't have anything to add here ^^

And I also wonder why people don't want Eclipse to improve..

And I want the same as you, dear anon.. for Eclipse to reflect and realize his mistakes and wrongdoings and apologize and atone for what he's done.. or just apologize.. like if it's really better if Eclipse went separate ways from Sun and Moon (though I personally disagree) then let Eclipse at least apologize to them..

I think that it'd be for the better for all of them..

Also let Moon apologize to Eclipse too..

And Sun can also apologize for saying that he should kill himself..

So all of them would be even but I think that it matters..

Maybe I'm wrong but who knows..

[icantspellthings]

The thing that I really like about The Boys as a show is that there is no *truly* evil characters, there is nobody so irredeemable and 100% an evil asshole piece of shit for the sake of being one (well except stormfront but we're ignoring her).

Like with A-train at first when we met him, he was this fame obsessed adrenaline junkie who is only focused on winning/being number one and his popularity. He literally killed Robin and was totally set up to be the "main bad guy". But as the series went on, we actually see his character fleshed out more. There are nuances to his actions that yes were done out of selfishness, but if you looked at it from his perspective he is nothing without the Seven, he is nothing without his fame and money, he wants so desperately to not fall into poverty and irrelevancy anymore that he would fight tooth and nail just to maintain statusquo. And we start to see he realises the consequences of his actions whis brother got hurt and he apologised to hughie. Does it makes A-train a "Good" person? No but it certainly makes him a more sympathetic character.

Other characters, too, like The Deep who is a fucking rapist who you are primed to HATE right from the start for what he did to Annie. But as time goes on, your hate starts to lessen and transform into pity. At his core, Kevin is pathetic, insecure, and quite frankly a very idiotic and gullible man. He sexually assults other to gain power over them, does this make his actions justifiable, No. But it does make his actions understandable. He isn't a good person but he's a good *character* because he isn't just this 100% evil caricature of a person, he has nuances and contradictions and sometimes even sympathetic moments.

I could go on and on and on about the other characters in The Seven or even all the other minor villains. How they're actually fleshed out characters instead of just one dimensional villains. And also the inverness of the good guys not being saintly, can never do wrongers, always doing the right thing. They're the protagonists, but that doesn't make them perfect people. Case in point with butcher!!! And how he drags hughie down to his level of "doing anything for the mission." The way butcher uses MMs obsession against him to literally drag him back into his revenge plot despite the fact that MM just wants to live a normal life with his daughter and literally had ro rebuild his life from nothing 3 times! Now thanks to butcher, the man is a grade A CUNT who manipulates the people around him for his own gains! Yeah it's "for the greater good" but it's still not a nice way to treat your friends

Hell even fucking annie who the show sets up as this pure saintly paragon of goodness and kindness fucks up. Half the time she doesn't know what the fuck she is even doing just stumbling along trying to do what she thinks is best. Hell most of the time her plans doesn't work out or activity makes things worse! AND THATS OKAY!

BECAUSE I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH! because they're so painfully human, they make mistakes, they try to seek forgiveness but somethings can't be forgiven. They try their best but somtimes it makes things worse. They have a characters arc but then will walk back 20 steps until they become even worse because its the essence of what being human means! We all make mistakes, progress isn't linear. Sometimes, you take 1 step forward and then 40 steps back until all improvements are undone and you're back at the same point possibly even worse of. But you keep trudging forward because you're alive and you're human and the least you can do is wake up another day and try your damnest.

Its what I love so much about this show, everyone is SO SO SO painfully human.