#not doing good. not safe with myself. life is crumbling. the only reason I’m still here is bc I promised my mom I wouldn’t end my life
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phail · 3 months ago
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ya girl is going on the best vacation of her mother fuckin life!!!!
and that vacation is the psych hospital for the third time since this August lmfao pray for me like actually
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galactic-star-bruiser · 2 months ago
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Gotta love when I just randomly post when I feel like it LMAO
Here’s a fun and sweet one xx
Content: smut, fluff, hurt Din(blood), female!reader POV
~5,082 words
********
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“Don’t be scared. Do it.�� The rough voice whispered back from behind me, leathered hands overtop my own.
I could feel his shallow breathing; beskar plate hardly rising and falling against my back. Every touch made my breath catch in the back of my throat.
“Do it” he whispered again, now with more determination.
I pulled the trigger and the blaster shot. The light barreled towards the target mere feet away and I stumbled backward - into him even further.
“Good” the mandalorian said, adjusting himself so we were no longer in contact.
As I turned to face him, I found he was already walking towards the sheet of metal I had just shot at.
“Not bad for someone who’s never touched a blaster before.”
**
I had lived a peaceful, if not privileged, life before the chaos found me. My city crumbled under the oppressive fist of the evils that prevailed and I had no one left.
No one until he found me.
Nightmares of men clad in white, troopers, the sounds of screaming children, and the smell of blaster fire haunted me. I woke every night clutching my heaving chest and waiting out the hours before dawn; before I felt safe in the sunlight again. It was almost ten years ago now. I was basically a child.
He was only here for a bounty. That’s what he claimed- a quick job and a paycheck.
Maybe he never found them, because he’s still here. With me, here, teaching me how to defend myself.
Why?
**
I looked down at my shaking hands, still clutching his weapon.
I wish I could say I was faking my incompetence for battle, or that I was pretending I couldn’t shoot a blaster- but I wasn’t. I wish I could say it was an act to make him stay longer.
I wanted him to stay longer.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked up at him, the black visor of his helmet a foot or two away from me.
“Why are you helping me?”
He just looked away and made a move back towards his ship.
“Wait” I said, breaking into a jog next to him “really… why me? I don’t understand.”
He handed me a larger blaster from the ship, “here, try this one now-“
“No” I looked down, suddenly embarrassed that I was pushing the subject but no less insistent that he answered my questions. “you’ve been here almost a month- I don’t believe someone of your skill would waste time like this-”
“You think I’m wasting my time?” He demanded, cocking his head to the side.
“No, I-“
“If you don’t want to learn to defend yourself, I’ll leave” he responded roughly, coldly.
“That’s not what I meant, I just want to know why-“
“We’ll stop wondering and just take the help you can get- you obviously need it” he said in such a way that I knew the conversation was over.
**
That night I laid restless in my bed. I mulled over all possible reasons for his prolonged stay and seemingly random interest in me.
I was dizzy with unanswered questions and sat up to stare around my bare room.
The mandalorians ship was landed now in what was once akin to the front yard of my home. It was impossible to imagine him here during times of peace, when the land was lush and his ship would’ve made my father furious over it ruining his landscaping.
I would’ve laughed at the image if it didn’t force me to imagine my father. He was a good man, a merchant. I missed him more than anything.
I heard movement outside and lunged for the knife I kept under my pillow. My heart was racing so hard I could hardly hear my own thoughts. They’ve come again to finish the job, I thought.
I crouched low and peered through the hole in my door that was once held a glass pane.
My knees buckled and I started to tremble, annoyed by my own fear.
The door heaved inwards, knocking me to the ground. I struggled to find the blade again in the darkness, but hands were lifting me now. I thrashed and kicked with all my might against muscle and metal. I screamed for help until a large hand was over my open mouth.
“If it wasn’t me, you’d already be dead” a familiar voice growled.
My body went limp in his arms.
He dropped me on the floor, my legs still unstable, and he watched as I struggled to find my balance.
I put my hand against the wall and let myself take deep, haggard breaths.
“What. Is. WRONG WITH YOU?” I screamed at the Mandalorian, shoving him with all my weight as if he wasn’t a wall of pure strength.
“I heard you walking around and decided to see if you really listened when I taught you anything… apparently not” he answered himself with a disgusted tone.
I was furious. “You heard me? That was you stalking around outside? Why the hell do you care so much about what I can or can’t do? Why the f-“
I was pinned against the wall, hands above my head, and the weight of his stare above me made me feel minuscule.
“Why is it so hard for you to accept that I just want you to live?” He barked.
I barred my teeth back at him, “because you don’t even know me.”
The heat of his hands radiated through his gloves.
“Oh I don’t?” Taking both my wrists in one of his large hands, his free one pulled out a bounty puck. My own face glowed before me.
“I… I don’t understand.” I responded breathlessly, sobered instantly by the sight.
“There are powers in this galaxy you can’t even begin to imagine the enormity of. There are people willing to pay for you to be hunted down and join the shallow grave of your family. You know nothing.”
He all but spat at me with those words. I felt like I was melting into the floor.
“Your father was no merchant. You really think you could’ve lived the way you did off of that measly salary?”
I wish he had just shot me.
“You want to know why he’s dead? You want to know why your city is in ruins and you’re the only one left in this hole? Blame him.”
“Don’t you dare” I responded with ice in my words but no conviction to back them up.
I truly was shielded from most everything in my life. So many questions had gone unanswered. Maybe I really didn’t know…
“No. Don’t you dare.” He responded, the grip on my wrists causing me to writhe in pain now. “He was nothing but a con artist that lead the evil back to his own family. He pissed off the wrong people.”
“Please. Stop” I choked out, only now realizing I was sobbing.
I hadn’t faced the facts. I knew there was no way he could support our family trading and bartering. I didn’t want to believe it. I loved him. He was good.
Though really, I hardly ever saw him.
The mandalorian let me go and I slid down the wall shaking my head in disbelief.
He threw the bounty puck towards me. It skid until meeting the hard wall. My own face glowing and mocking me.
“They didn’t get you the first time around and paid me to finish the job.” He said, some unexplained warmth returning to his mechanical voice.
“I don’t understand… was all of this a part of some sick scheme to get me to trust you before you took me in?” I said, still trembling.
“I don’t do that-“
“And why should I trust you?” I almost screamed back at him.
He crouched to my level, visor meeting my tear blurred eyes.
“Why?” Was all I could say, over and over again, between sobs or anger, confusion, and heartbreak.
His helmet cocked to the side and I could hardly see my contorted, wet face in its reflection.
He lifted me off the floor and took me back to his waiting ship. I didn’t have anything left in me to fight him with. I didn’t resist capture. It all went black and quiet.
**
A distant hum of an engine filled my ears and I blinked in the warm light that surrounded me.
The memories of the mandalorian came rushing back to me and I jolted upwards, scanning the room like a trapped animal.
I was on a bed- if you could call it that. On a ship. It was steady and landed.
Heavy footsteps came from the outside of the small room. My body tensed.
The beskar clad man walked in and passed me as if I wasn’t there. He rummaged through a flight pack.
“Where are we” I said, surprised at the roughness of my own scream shredded voice.
“We haven’t moved.”
That’s all he had to say before leaving the room again.
I followed swiftly and saw through the windows that we were still in front of my hovel of a home.
His back was towards me and I followed him outside into the night air.
“You were right to think that someone of my skill wouldn’t waste their time on a bounty like this… I was never going to bring you in.”
I sat down next to him on the steps to his ship. Wary and timid. I wrapped my arms around my knees.
He looked away from me and before I could even open my mouth he answered my questions, “I’ve never struggled like this. I bring in anyone and anything without any shred of feeling.”
He turned towards me and it felt as though I was punched in the chest, “but I couldn’t. You didn’t do anything. You’re a victim.”
I couldn’t place my emotion. I was more than confused, my heart was aching over my father, I was terrified of my fate, I felt betrayed, incompetent… but there was something comforting in the cold man next to me.
We sat in silence, neither one of us knowing what to say.
“Thank you” was all I could say after what felt like a lifetime.
He didn’t respond.
“Why did I wake up in your ship?”
It was the only question I could think of asking with an answer that wouldn’t make me want to start crying.
“It was easier than stalking around your bedroom. Easier to keep an eye on you” he answered matter of factly.
I didn’t respond.
“I’d leave now if I thought they wouldn’t send someone else to come find you” the mandalorian said, looking away again.
“I don’t want you to leave” I said, without even thinking first. My cheeks burned with the embarrassment of revealing that to him.
“I’m sorry I lied to you” was all he said in response.
I just looked at him. A man so fortified with armor, stern and strong, was being gentle before me.
I put my hand on his and I swore I felt a shudder go through him. His fingers flexed and released beneath mine.
I went to pull away when he grabbed my hand back.
We sat in silence, entwined fingers on his thigh, just looking into the dark.
**
The mandalorian left after a month.
He found me a place to stay within a city where no one could find me. He made me feel safe. I was safe.
We never touched again after that night on the steps of his ship. Though, the heat still burned through me when I thought of it.
**
My hands were raw from pulling weeds and the sweat dripped heavily down my back. I was happy. I was safe.
I was tired.
I laid with a thud onto a stack of freshly pulled vegetation and let myself feel the suns on my face.
My brows contorted when it was suddenly cooler and darker overhead. Opening my eyes, I focused on an all too familiar ship.
A smile widened across my face before I got a sudden rush of energy and bounded to the landing site.
I stopped short. What if he doesn’t remember me? I mean, why should he?
I found myself fixing my hair and adjusting my working clothes to fit me better.
What was I doing?
I walked swiftly to the ship, heart beating and cheeks reddening.
That’s when I saw him and stopped dead in my tracks.
I hadn’t noticed the significant damage to the ship or the particularly rough landing.
He stumbled out with blood spattered beskar. The tall mandalorian made contact with the ground.
**
I wrung my hands, pacing around my bed, that now held a man I had known in what felt like a different life.
Blood was both crusted and trickling out of the bottom of his helmet. I knew the rules but I couldn’t help feel responsible if he died on my bed from a treatable head wound.
We were a half a days journey to anyone else.
Did he know I had moved all the way out here?
There were bloodied bandages and cloth littering my floor. I had taken the liberty of removing all other armor besides his helmet. The neat pile of metal stood beside the bed for him when he got up.
Please get up.
The blood was flowing steadily. I had to make a decision.
My fingers gingerly touched the rim and snapped back towards me when a guttural moan and choking noise startled me.
He was drowning.
“I have to. Im sorry” I whispered gently and lifted the helmet with a hiss.
The metallic, animalistic, sent of blood infiltrated my nostrils. He was hardly recognizable as human. I realized that I didn’t even know for certain that he was.
My eyes caught on the matted brown hair sticking to his forehead, the peppered facial hair along his jaw, and finally his eyes. He was human, and he was beautiful.
I worked quickly and carefully, trying my best to avert my eyes out of respect. I guess it’s too late now anyways.
When I fixed and cleaned what I could I poured medicine down his throat, Bacta on his wounds, and left him to sleep.
I realized I hadn’t left his side when I woke up in pain from being contorted in a small chair next to the bed.
My eyes traced the outline of him in the pale darkness of the room. He looked more at ease than I had ever seen. I realized I had missed his presence. He made me feel safe.
The few months he spent with me came flooding back to memory. He was always so gentle, guiding, and almost infuriatingly calm. He became a partner… a friend.
His hand twitched and I shot up from my seat. Whether it was out of fear, guilt, relief, or excitement, I couldn’t tell.
He groaned. Or maybe he tried to speak?
“You’re safe” was all I could think to say when I sat on the bed beside him.
His hand slowly reached up to his face, shaking. I grabbed it before he could reach his bare skin.
“I’m sorry… I had to”
He let his hand fall limp at his side with a noise that was akin to what a hurt animal would make.
My heart shattered. I went to grab his helmet and put it back on and he stopped me.
“It’s useless now” he muttered through blood stained teeth.
I had spent all those months, and the year after, imagining the face beneath the helmet. He suddenly became so much more real to me. More precious.
Tears began to fall from my eyes and his hand left the helmet to wipe them away. It was tender and devastating.
“I wish I knew you in another life” he said, so low it hardly registered.
I grabbed the hand still resting on my cheek and forced a smile through my sob.
“Why not this one” I asked, chuckling sadly.
I already knew the answer.
He managed half a smile. He was treacherously handsome.
I tried to think of anything to say. Anything, but his grip turned loose and his breathing was at a constant lull. He was asleep.
**
I had left his side only so long before I heard movement coming from the bedroom.
I set down a mug of hot caf before rushing in to find him struggling to push himself off the bed.
“What are you doing” I asked in an almost desperate cry.
“My ship” was all he said.
“Worry about that later. You were on deaths doorstep not two hours ago.”
He shook his head like a defiant child. I almost laughed. Almost.
As if by some invisible force, he laid back down on the bed.
“Do you need anything?” I asked, warily, hoping he’d send me off to get something. It felt strange to see him in such a vulnerable state.
A shake of the head, no. I sat back in my chair and he turned his body to face me.
“I should give you your bed back.”
This time I actually let out a laugh.
“No, I want you to sleep.”
I wondered if he remembered his comment from earlier.
**
It was now pitch black in the small bedroom. I sat and watched the stars flicker in the sky out of the window. I hadn’t left his side in hours.
As I turned to look at him, the mandalorian let out a guttural scream and sat up with a start. He ran his trembling fingers through blood matted hair.
“You’re okay. You’re safe” I said, now next to him with one knee on the bed “it was a nightmare, that’s all.”
His chest heaved and his skin prickled at my touch.
I rubbed circles into his back. My mother use to do that for me.
He instinctively flinched away from me.
“I’m sorry” he said before relaxing beneath my open palm.
I didn’t know what to do. I felt helpless.
I shifted closer, my arm barely fitting around his back.
“Tell me what you need” I whispered
He broke a prolonged silence with a half hearted laugh.
I didn’t understand his amusement.
I squeezed him tight once more like you’d do for a friend before letting them go. I guess he is a friend. I guess.
I walked to a dresser and sifted through clothes until I found a large green shirt, clean flight pants, and a towel.
He stared, confused, at the items.
“Is this my shirt?” He asked earnestly.
I knew it when I picked it out. It’s all I had that would fit him anyhow. Though, I guess I didn’t expect red, flushed, embarrassment to creep from my neck to my cheeks.
“You gave it to me. To wear once. After I had ruined mine while cleaning the blasters.”
What he would never know is that I slept with it through every nightmare. The smell of him bringing waves of unexplained comfort.
He gave me that half smile again.
“I know. I just didn’t expect you to keep it.”
I averted my gaze and let him change in peace.
“Are you hungry?” I asked before leaving him.
A nod.
“Use the towel to clean up. I won’t mind the blood stains.”
A nod once more.
**
I came face to face with the mandalorian. No- he was just a man now. He seemed like one, anyways. Just a man.
Lines cut deep into his skin, from battle and age. His features were both soft and strong. He had such an air of sadness. He would’ve seemed almost defenseless if I hadn’t known better.
I motioned towards a seat across from mine. His shaggy, wet hair swept across his brow as he sat.
He ate like a starved, wild, thing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He refused to make contact with mine.
When he had finished I took his plate away slowly, almost expecting him to growl and bite. He only looked down.
“Thank you”
I responded only with a genuine smile and another offering of caf. He happily obliged.
It felt almost domestic. It was nice.
He drank slowly, deeply, and without looking up or speaking even once.
The suns began to rise and paint colors across the carved sand walls. I could see him even more clearly now. Battle worn, tired, and inexplicably sad.
“I’m sorry I took off your helmet. I just-“
“You did what you had to” he responded, still looking longingly into his half full mug.
I just peeled away the skin around my fingers, trying to think of anything to ease the uncomfortable silence.
“Are you sure you can’t just put it back on or-“
“I meant what I said earlier” he said lowly.
Unwilling to believe it to be true, what I wanted to be true, I played dumb and confused.
“In another life… I think I’d like … this.”
I couldn’t say anything.
**
He slept soundly through the day, rising only when the moon did. He attempt to fix his ship.
I helped with what I could on the ship, and every time our hands grazed in the passing of tools, a bolt of electricity flowed through me. Each time he passed behind, a gloved hand met the small of my back.
I pleaded with him to rest. I wondered if it was really just a ploy to prolong his stay.
I found myself fumbling while completing basic maintenance. I was trembling and the low sighs of frustration he was making weren’t helping.
I couldn’t even explain my own actions lately. There was something scratching at me from the inside to get closer to him.
I wanted him.
I insisted he spend one more night asleep in a proper bed, mine, as I recalled the hammock he called his.
To my surprise, he agreed.
That night he was restless. He turned, yelled, and cried out in his sleep. I could hear him from down the hall.
I crept slowly to the bedroom. I wanted to comfort him but felt awkward with the thought of any attempt.
That was until I heard my name. Softly, desperately, tumbling from his lips. He was dreaming.
“I’m here” I answered in a half whisper, pushing hair out of his face, “you’re safe. I’m here.”
“Stay with me. Please”, eyes still closed. He grabbed onto my hand.
“You’re dreaming”
“No… I’m not” he replied, eyes fluttering open in a way that seemed to use most of his energy.
My heart was in my throat and I felt as though I was breaking some ancient law by climbing into my own bed.
I laid in the space he had made for me, my body fitting against his as though I were made to be there.
I covered him with the blanket more, so unsure of what to do with my body. My hand lingered on his chest, still clutching the cloth.
His breathing hitched and warmth radiated throughout the bed.
“I don’t even know your name” I laughed lightly, almost a whisper, not expecting an answer but rather trying to cut the tension.
“Do you want to?” His eyes met mine.
The air was all but sucked out of the small space. I could hear the rushing thrum of both of our hearts.
I nodded. Yes.
His face was mere inches from mine and I could feel his warm, sweet breath on my lips.
“Din. Din Djarin.” He whispered, so close that our mouths were all but intertwined.
He tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear and stared into my eyes with so much tenderness that I felt the desperate need to cry.
I traced the outlines of the face I had imagined so many times before. He became warmer to the touch with each line I drew.
“Another life, huh, Din?” I whispered.
He stopped my hand with his.
“Why not this one?”
With these few blessed words, he closed the space between us. My body crashing and arching into his and his fingers entwined with my hair.
Animalistic moans escaped from the two of us, his body engulfing mine.
He smelled like sun warmed wilderness; like musk and lush trees.
His hot mouth met my neck and I soaked in every touch, every scent, every movement of his body. He was desperately clawing at me and I him.
His hands quickly became unsure. He was so battle worn, knowledgable beyond his years, though… he now touched me like he was afraid I’d break.
My eyebrows knitted together in confusion and he stared back with an almost frightened expression.
“I… I am a dangerous man. I don’t know how- I’ve never-“
I brushed my thumb over his open lips and smiled softly at him. I had never imagined the gentleness of such a rough man. He was right, he was dangerous, he was a killer, a bounty hunter, a mandalorian.
None of that mattered.
I pulled his face closer to mine and kissed him softly. I felt the storm brewing beneath his skin.
“I don’t want to hurt you” he whispered against me.
“I want all of you” was all I answered back.
With those words of permission, he used his legs to pin my back to the bed and stared down at me.
Sitting up on his knees, he used his rough hands to trace down my sides. My skin prickled with desire and my hips bucked unintentionally to meet his.
His fingers found the waistband to my pants and he found my eyes, asking silently to go on.
“Please” I begged
Slowly, painfully slowly, he tugged them down low enough to expose hip bones and the very top of where I desired him most.
Lifting my hips, he bent down to meet them with peppered kisses. Any movement of mine was halted by his fingers digging in to me.
The tenderness of the moment was dictated by him and he wouldn’t let me forget that he was in control.
It only made me more desperate. Between kisses he spoke in a deep, strained voice.
“I’ve thought about this every night” he all but growled. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to touch myself back in my ship just so I wouldn’t lose control and pin you against a wall and fuck you?”
Deep moans escaped me and I begged for him to touch me, to do anything he wanted with me. I needed him. I’ve needed him for longer than I could even admit to myself.
His name fell from my lips over and over. He nipped at the tender skin of my inner thighs as he teasingly pulled the remainder of my pants down.
He noticed I hadn’t been wearing underwear and an almost sadistic smirk swept across his face and his eyes shot up to meet mine.
I couldn’t breathe. All I could remember was his name.
He teased me until I was so close to coming undone from just the first swipe of his tongue against me.
My nails dug into the sheets as he moaned against me, wetness glossing his rugged features.
His eyes were so blown out with lust that they were hardly brown any longer.
I begged until I had tears in my eyes. I needed to feel him inside of me. He knew that and took advantage of every second.
“How- how are you so good?”
He snapped back to sitting on his knees and ground himself into me, leaving a deliciously wet mark on his pants.
“You think I haven’t imagined every inch of you and what I’d like to do to it” He titled his head with pure cockiness, “all the nights I spent avoiding other women were nights I imagined your body, nights I’ve spent touching myself and thinking of the way you’d feel. I may not have experience, but I’d do anything to have you”
I didn’t even have the words to express what that did to me, but as he stripped off his lower half of clothing I knew there was nothing stopping me from getting exactly what I so desperately wanted.
He let himself fall forward, one arm catching himself an inch above me. I let my nails drag down his back as I caught his lips in a feverish kiss.
My hand met his free one and I felt the length of him, wet with his own precum. His forehead fell into the side of my neck and a growl ripped through him. He rocked his hips into my hand.
“You weren’t the only one touching themselves to the thought of this” I whispered into his ear, my own voice deeper than I had ever heard it, “I couldn’t even let myself imagine you were this big.”
He put his free hand on top of mine and guided his length to my desperate, clenching opening.
He was slow, controlled, but the vice grip on the pillow above me gave way to his longing.
I moved my hips to meet his, unable to control myself any longer, and the sound that bounded from him was purely animal.
Something had finally snapped inside of him and his controlled thrusting became more erratic and intense. Even the soft kisses melded into bites and teeth clenched moans into my open mouth.
I bit into his shoulder to stop from screaming, the feeling of this moment too intense to explain.
I wrapped my legs around him and lifted to meet his every stroke. His hair was gripped between my fingers and his forearms boxed me in. I was completely engulfed in him.
Suddenly his strong arms were cradling my back and I was lifted onto his lap. He was sitting on his knees, legs wide, and thrusting into me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him push and pull my body up and down onto him.
Every meeting of thighs was met with a wet smack and stifled moan. I could feel every inch of him and I knew then that I’d feel empty every second he wasn’t inside of me.
With one final stroke he pushed down on my shoulders and up with his hips to fill me at my deepest point. I rocked into him and felt his thick, hot, cum pouring out of me.
He feverishly kissed me, and I responded in turn. We sat connected until our breathing came back into our control.
“Cyar’ika” he mumbled into my lips, over and over again, “I have watched you, always. I could never stay away from you.”
“I’m yours” I responded, “you have me.”
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imagineanime2022 · 30 days ago
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A True Friend
Caspian Keyes X GN!Reader
Word Count: 776
Requested: Anon @kalebell46
Request: On god please I need more Caspian Keyes fan fiction. This internet is so dry, there's like none out there. Could be of a him x reader while he's finding himself, the first real friend in his life that isn't there by the choice of someone else. And he'd be so paranoid about it too. Gooooodddddd please. AND I would love for a caspian fic please there are none
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Caspian had been alone for so long, since he was young he had always been the outsider, the black sheep, the target and he thought that was how it was going to be for the rest of his school life. That is until he met (Y/N). Now (Y/N) for all intents and purposes probably wasn’t the best example for Caspian, they got into trouble, paid around and never listened to anyone who assumed that they knew better than them. Except when they were with Caspian, who they had only met because they needed tutoring.
(Y/N) wasn’t stupid though most people treated them that way, in fact they had a basic grasp on most things that were taught in class, they just didn’t seem to get it down on paper very well. Caspian was asked to tutor them and the rest followed with time, tutoring sessions turned into skateboard races and trips to the comic book store. Caspian learned quickly that his new companion was not stupid as he had heard a lot of the others in their year saying so he did make sure that some of their time was dedicated to bringing up his grades, in the end it didn’t matter though.
The world crumbled around Caspian as he found out about the real reason behind his birth, with his father gone and his mother keeping more of a watchful eye on him then usual, the only place he thought he might even be a little bit safe was with (Y/N) but then the thought crossed his mind… What if you had something to do with Logarithm's little experiment. That was why he stood outside your door hand hovering to knock, he jumped when you opened it smiling at him “what are you doing?” They asked “thought you were going to knock but you seemed like you were thinking about something.” They stepped to the side giving him space to come in but he didn’t move. “What?” “Are you really my friend?” He asked. “Really your friend?” They asked “of course I am.” “Really because I just found out a lot about myself that doesn’t make sense.” He answered. “Okay talk me through it.” They prompted stepping out and closing the door behind them. “I found something on my computer, they’ve been watching me.” Caspian answered. “They’ve been watching you?” They asked frowning, you were either genuinely confused or very good at acting. “Logarithms!” He answered more frustrated at having to explain himself at all. “Logarithms? Caspian you're going to have to start from the beginning if you want me to understand, remember I’m the slow friend.” They reminded him as he looked at you, that seemed to calm him down as he spoke again. “Don’t call yourself slow.” He grumbled, they shrugged as they looked at him waiting for him to continue. He took a second to calm down and then explained everything that had happened over the past few days.
It was easy to prove that you weren’t a part of it when you looked back at Stephen Holstroms life and realised that he didn’t have a best friend or a friend of any kind at Caspian’s age. (Y/N) was the only person that Caspian could trust but that didn’t mean that he wanted to drag them into everything that was happening, he still didn’t understand how they ended up in the car with him and Cary going to meet Maddie. “I’ll find a way to get you back home after all of this.” He promised. “Home?” They asked. “Why would I go home, you need someone right? Someone to trust?” “Yeah but-” “And we’ve proven that I can be trusted?” They asked. “Yes but-” “Then I stay.” they leaned back in their chair as Caspian glanced at her through the rear view mirror. “Why?” He asked. “Because I'm your friend, this is how friends work… Real ones anyway.” You shrugged. “Real friends?” Caspian asked. “Alright, how about this, I promise to be the one person that you can trust, a true friend, pillar to lean on and person to talk to, if you promise to stop thinking that you don’t deserve it. You didn’t ask to be made this way and no matter how you were born you are no less human than anyone else I know.” You said. “Alright, fine, as long as you don’t keep calling yourself the slow friend.” He answered. “Alright deal.” And that was the first time that he felt like he could trust someone, accept someone, turn away and they would still be there, a true friend he liked that security.
Request Here!!
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aheckinmess · 6 months ago
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Atlas [Toshinori] (Angst)
(One-shot 20/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)
Read on AO3.
Tags: Toshinori Yagi, All Might, Smol Might, Original Female Character(s), Ichijiku Aoki, Protective Toshinori, Protective All Might, All Might-centric, Young Toshinori Yagi, Toshinori Has to Shoulder a Lot of Weight, But Not Just Because He's a Hero, OC Shoulders a Lot of Weight Too, But She's Worried about Being a Burden, A Lot of Angst in This One, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, We Weren't Made to Be Atlas, Don't Carry the Weight of the World on Your Shoulders, It's Okay to Ask for Help, OC is Sad, OC is Tired, I Mean Aren't We All?
Word Count: 2,052 words
Summary: After a long day hanging out with a friend, Ichijiku gets frustrated because she feels like she's not contributing anything but also like she's contributing too much at the same time. Toshinori comforts her because he knows exactly how she feels.
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Ichijiku (Tigress)
“It just feels like she’s always watching over my shoulder, waiting for me to mess up.”
“I felt that way when I left home. I thought I saw all of my so-called friends around me, too, telling me what a screw up I am.” Hanoku says. 
“I don’t see Grandma everywhere, I’m just in a constant state of fight-or-flight. It makes me second-guess myself. I get hypervigilant and anxious.” I elucidate, trying to keep the focus on the point I’m trying to make.
Irritation coils in my limbs as I try not to be mean. I get that you’re trying to relate, but you always try to remind me your life was worse than mine. Why can’t I say anything without feeling overshadowed when I just needed a safe place to feel…? I take a few deep breaths, trying to remind myself that my friend isn’t at fault. My weary psyche needs a safe place to land, but the only place it's ever had is my own arms.
“Well, what have you tried so far to help with the anxiety?” She asks. It’s a simple enough question, but in my tired anxiety, all I hear is, Clearly, you’re not doing enough.
“Soft music in my earbuds so I don’t have to hear the sounds all around me. It helps me sleep.” I explain, fidgeting with the fabric of my shirt, unable to look at her.
“So, that method helps, but you still aren’t sleeping well? What if you played around with the lighting instead? Then, you’d be fine!” Hanoku suggests. You’re not doing enough to prevent it. You haven’t considered all of your options. God, it’s so annoying listening to you be so stupid.
“Well, I’m doing better than last week. Without the earbuds I barely slept at all.”
“Well, that’s good. Oh!” She dismisses the tired look on my face as I look up at her and surges forward. “Maybe you could try aromatherapy!” She looks at me with a proud smile. “You can train your body to know you are safe and it’s time to sleep!” It’s obvious that this had a simple solution all along, dumbass.
In my insecurities, I force a smile even as I internally crumble. I don’t have much energy left in my reserves after the past few weeks. Between anxiety and fighting villains, all I want is a place to share my woes without being out-traumatized. 
With a solution shoved into my lap, I can only assume I’ve overstayed my welcome on the subject of anxiety. I just want someone to listen to me. But…they have their own problems to deal with. Adding mine must be an extra burden. Guilt makes me straighten up and look ahead, avoiding eye contact as I give her a nod.
“Yeah, I use my pillow mist. It helps since it smells like Toshinori.” I admit, kicking a rock out of the way as we walk.
“Ah, okay. What if I sent you scary stories before bed?” She giggles. “Maybe then your anxiety would have a reason to stay and then go away on its own?”
My brows furrow as I immediately reject that idea. But I shove it away with a laugh and a shrug; I don’t want to bother her anymore than I already have. I turn to her with a smile and nudge her with a wink.
“If your goal is to keep me awake to talk to you about them, then sure. But those are likely to fuel my anxiety more.”
“Ugh! Fine.” She groans, further solidifying that I’m just an irritation. She looks across the street at a couple playing with their kid. “On a more serious note, is there anything I can do to help you?”
“No.”
. . . . .
“You bastard! How dare you cheat on me with that whore!” The sound of breaking glass on the TV echoes through the living room as I step through the door, feeling defeated and exhausted despite only walking once around the park with Hanoku. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me? Can you feel the way you break my heart, you cheap piece of ass?!”
“Ichan?” Toshinori calls, his eyes glued to the television set. “Did you enjoy your walk?”
“Yeah, it…was fine.” I give him a believable smile. He’s busy watching his show. I’ve already bothered one person today, anyway. I shuffle my shoes onto the carpet and hang my jacket on the coat rack. “I’m gonna lay down a bit.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Everything’s fine, don’t worry.” 
Everything is not fine. I pad down to our room and curl up under the blankets, inhaling and exhaling the scent of my husband to ground myself. Though I shouldn’t check my phone when I know I’m going to be disappointed even further, I can’t stop myself from scrolling through all of my conversations hopefully.
A few writing friends promised to read my story yesterday since I’ve finally gotten a solid outline written out, but I’m not surprised to see nothing has been touched. Don’t go down that hole. There’s no reason to be upset. I scroll through Hana’s posts in the same collection just to be sure it’s not me. Both Sayuri and Hanoku left comments within the last two hours. A painful feeling bubbles in my gut, so I should close my phone. 
But I don’t.
I enter the rabbit hole of counting just how many conversations I can stop just by existing. Six conversations in my messages alone had steady responses until I said something. They just got busy. It’s not just you. I keep telling myself.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt so much if it wasn’t so consistent.
When tears make seeing my screen difficult, I finally turn off my phone. The blanket wraps around me until the only opening is around my nose for breathing. Ungrateful brat. I’m not trying to be ungrateful. I want my friends to like me. They only talk to me when I’m alone with them, but in the middle of our friend group, I’m not as important as other people. I get talked over and dismissed. My problems aren’t as big, so they don’t matter. And I know they have lives, but…I don’t want to be the center of their world, I just want to be a part of their constellation.
Tiger roars in the back of my mind, fighting to try and be heard, but I don’t want to hear her for the time being. I just want to feel my emotions and be swallowed by them for a little while, seeing as I so frequently shove them deep, deep into the abyss.
“Ichan,” Toshinori’s soft tones caress my ear as his weight shifts the bed. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just tired.” I lie, too scared to bother him. He’s the Symbol of Peace. He’s already got enough on his shoulders. I can’t add anymore weight.
“Are you saying that because you think you’re going to bother me, or are you really just tired?” He hums, and when I hesitate for a second too long, he squeezes me tight. “Talk to me, Ichan. I can carry it for both of us.”
“But you shouldn’t have to.” I whimper. “You already carry so much. It’s not fair if I let you carry me, too.”
“It is my privilege to carry you.” He chuckles, before abruptly sweeping me up - covers and all - and spinning me around. “You’re light as a feather!”
I squeal and hide my face in his chest.
“Now, tell me what happened.”
“I’m tired.” I sniff, decorating his shirt with salty stains as I choke on a sob. “I’m tired of being ignored. I’m tired of everyone treating my problems like they’re not as bad as theirs. I just wanna sleep and never wake up.”
“Hey,” He coos, sitting back on the bed and pulling me closer. It feels like he’s trying to wring out all the sorrow from my bones. I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t at least partially work. “You’re allowed to be tired of that. Even if you take a nap and realize you were just tired, you’re allowed to feel that way.”
“But I feel bad!” I cry, fingers grasping at him as I grow more certain he’ll leave, disgusted with every uttered word. “I’m not supposed to want things from them! They’re doing their best and I know they are–”
“Except you need them.”
“Except…I…” It hurts to admit. I can’t say it. I can’t need them. They need me to carry them. “But they’re all trying their best and I have no right to ask them for anything. It just feels like if I stopped talking to them altogether, nobody would notice I was gone. Nobody would notice that anything was wrong because I’m Ichijiku. And Ichijiku is always okay. Even when Ichijiku is suffering, she’s strong and she’ll get through it because it’s Ichijiku! Ichijiku can figure shit out on her own because they have to take care of themselves first and Ichijiku will be fine because she knows what they’re going through and they’re having a hard time. They can spend time with all of their other friends because Ichijiku will always be around. Ichijiku will never leave. Ichijiku would never get mad that they’re too busy for her. They can throw another brick on top of the pile because like Luisa, Ichijiku might buckle and bend but she’ll never break. She can handle it. She can fix her own problems.” My muscles clench and clench and clench until they’re sore.
“But Ichan,” Toshinori rubs my shoulders as he forces them to relax with his superior strength. “Sometimes, you can’t handle it.”
“I HAVE TO!” I roar, baring my teeth as I throw my head back to look at him. “I have to be able to handle it! Because if I don’t then who’s going to help everyone else?”
“Ichan,” Toshinori caresses my cheek, thumbing away tears. “That’s not your job.”
“But it is.” I cough, rubbing my eyes and shaking in my exhaustion. “They say it’s not, but every time I ask for help, they redirect me to their problems. It is because I can’t leave them to deal with it on their own like they can with me. I can’t leave it be because I’m scared they’ll get hurt. They’ll get sad. And no one will be there for them. So I’m here, Mr. Symbol. I AM HERE.” I huff, raking my fingers through my hair. If anyone understands that, it’s you. “And that’s fine. I don’t mind that. I would break myself in half a hundred times and cry every night and give limbs and organs and whatever other bodily instrument they need to keep them safe. To keep them happy. To keep them protected and of sound mind. But…” I open my mouth, unable to find the words.
“But there’s no one to do that for you.” Toshinori breathes, eyes glistening as I look at him. An understanding that breaks me and sews me back together reflects in those pretty blue eyes. “Someone’s always too busy. Everyone else has problems at the same time you do. Someone always needs your strength to help hold them up even when you’re tired and don’t know if you can…but you do it all the same.”
“Y-Yeah…” I shrivel back into his arms, heart aching as guilt weighs heavy.
He knows all about it because he does it every day. And here I am whining about it. Adding stress to one of his few rest times.
“Toshi, I’m–”
“Don’t you dare apologize to me.” He growls, gripping my jaw to make me look at him. “What did you tell me when I first met you? Before you ever knew I was All Might? You told me that you wished you could take the burden of every hero and carry it for a while. And when you learned I was All Might you did.” He kisses my lips, slowly carving out every soft crevice of my skin. “So don’t you dare apologize for letting me do the same.”
Silence hangs in the air like drying laundry as he holds me, breath heavy as he bears the brunt of my sadness for me. And for once, I let him.
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Want More Toshinori? Try: The Straw
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emmy-dekarios-bg3 · 8 months ago
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Heart of the Weave - A Baldurs Gate fanfiction part 3
Chapter 12
After a worrisome journey, we finally arrive in the area that was once the Shadow lands, and I’m relieved to see that the shadow curse is still lifted despite Ketheric being resurrected from the dead. Moonrise is such a short distance away, yet I’m less anxious than I was previously. Is it possible I’m coming to terms with Gortash’s fatal fate? Whatever the reason, I’m feeling a surge of confidence and an urge to obliterate the evil that remains standing.
“Ah, memories. It’s so beautiful here. I love seeing the life flowing through the flowers and trees, the blossoms brightening the surrounding areas, and the sun reflecting through the waters of the pond,” Halsin comments, admiring the serene nature that was once a disastrous area consumed by shadows and death. I’m still in shock that this beautiful place was once so deadly and filled with lost souls searching for peace. Too many lost way too soon.
I stare down the path ahead that leads directly to Moonrise, feeling the broken pavement crumble beneath my feet. I eyeball Jenevelle as she lies with contentment in her stroller, trying to convince myself she’ll be alright and our worries are once again about to fade away.
“The tower is up ahead. Is everyone ready? I have the vials of invisibility potions,” Gale assures with a quiet tone. He pulls the potions out from the pockets of his shirt and hands one to each of us to use.
“Let’s do this! Emmy, you stand back–” As Karlach begins to speak, she’s interrupted by a slow clap behind us, and of course my worst fears come to life. I feel my heart sink and accelerate as I turn around to notice Gortash, Fanden, and Ketheric standing just a few feet away.
“Ah, Emmy. It’s been awhile, my dear. Too long. I knew you’d come, you’ve always been true to your word…well, other than killing me, of course.” Gortash’s voice is ominous and deep as he tries to get beneath my skin.
“Shit… You were supposed to be in the tower,” I mumble under my breath as I stand here in shock, swallowing the confidence that’s no longer there. “Where’s Rolan? Our friend?” Gale immediately grabs Jenevelle from her stroller and holds her tightly against his chest. Ketheric and Fanden approach Gortash’s side.
“Ha! He’s safe. We never actually abducted him, you see. Though, it’s weird you considered blowing up the tower knowing he was missing. I did send my only son to keep tabs on you, however. Every second of every day, my dearest daughter.” Thank the God Rolan is alright, though to be fair on all accounts, I already had it on good authority he was not in Moonrise. Gortash glares at Karlach, yet appears to be completely thrown off by her presence. “Ah, Karlach. It shocks me you’re still here.”
“Yeah, you bucket of bolts. I found a way to fix my engine, thanks to Wyll and, ha, even Avernus. You thought you had the last of me. Well newsflash, traitor, I’m still here you pathetic fuck.”
“Tsk tsk. You still have such a way with words.”
“Get to the damn POINT,” I mutter impatiently as I clench my fists. He takes another couple steps toward me while his hands are behind his back, smirking as he stares at me with piercing eyes. His very presence sickens me.
“I tracked you down to make amends with you. To apologize to you for not being in your life as you were growing up. All those years, I had no idea I even had a daughter, let alone any children at all. To have you and your brother here means a lot.”
“Give me a BREAK!” Karlach shouts, her face expressing rage, her body ready to charge at him any second.
“I was talking to my daughter. Please, Karlach, don’t be rude.” I close my eyes, trying to contain my cool as I anticipate his next words to me.
“Tell me the real reason you want me here. Revenge for when I killed you? Or, let me guess - you want something from me.” I detect curiosity on his face as he raises an eyebrow, wondering how I would have gotten the idea he wants to use me. He studies my face, realizing the truth of my anger and hatred toward him.
“Nonsense. I wanted to formally apologize to you and meet my granddaughter. She looks like you, you know.”
“You don’t deserve to breathe near our baby. We know exactly want you want, Gortash,” Gale comments sternly, his brows furrowed as he makes intense eye contact.
“What are you on about? I want nothing more than simply a discussion with my one and only daughter. It’s time we address this chaotic situation.” My eyes look past Gortash and I notice an evil smirk on Fanden’s face as if he’s up to no good, and he appears to be exchanging looks with Ketheric. They’re planning something diabolical. While my eyes are focused on Fanden, it appears Ketheric has vanished. Gortash used us as a fucking distraction! I turn to face Gale, and before a word could escape my lips, Jenevelle gets snatched by Ketheric, who then becomes visible that very second. He must have taken a potion… Gale and I widen our eyes in terror as we catch our daughter being taken by this cruel, evil man in front of us.
“NO!!” Him and I both scream, trying to bolt toward Ketheric but Fanden jumps in front of him to stop us.
“YOU BASTARD!” I shout, my hands shaking as I try to bolt toward my baby. “Give her back!” Karlach and Wyll then charge at Gortash, pouncing on top of him. While Wyll has him in a headlock, she beats him with the intensity of her warhammer. My blood boils and tears escape my eyes as I try to once again reach out to Ketheric, but he pushes me away with his right hand with extreme force, holding Jenevelle in his other arm. He proceeds to cast ‘sanctuary’ so he is unable to be harmed.
“GIVE US OUR BABY BACK!” Gale’s voice is like thunder, causing me to tremble, simply because I’ve never heard him yell or raise his voice before. I can see veins pulsating through his forehead as anger courses within his body. “No one takes my daughter from me.”
Fanden proceeds to charge at me so I can’t unleash the holy power within me, but Halsin casts ‘hold person’ on him, causing him to be in a state of immobility. Wyll proceeds to use Eldritch Blast on him, which drains a significant amount of life from his body. As this is happening, I hear our baby cry, and she’s completely terrified as she notices us fighting to get her back.
“Say goodbye to your daughter before the soul chains suck her dry of her immortality,” Ketheric grumbles, followed by a chuckle that instantly pisses me off. Gortash kicks Karlach off his body, revealing bruises and blood across his entire body, soaking his white shirt.
“Now, Ketheric, even I’m not that cruel. We’ll get what we’ve been after, just hand me the baby,” Gortash demands, his eyes intimidating Ketheric into submission. “I won’t allow harm to be done to her under any circumstance.”
“Please, hand her to us. I’m begging you,” I whimper, gritting my teeth as I watch her helpless body being held by my tyrant father. Tears drip off my chin, and I notice Gale is crying as well. It pains us horrible to watch her out of any protection. At this moment, I finally feel it: the unstoppable and vicious power within me, ready to unleash. I notice it within Gale too.
As Fanden becomes unfrozen from the spell, Karlach and Wyll both stomp on his back so he’s unable to get up. Gortash stares at our daughter, smiling at her as her bottom lip quivers. She’s trying to stop crying.
“Ah, my lovely little granddaughter. There’s so much potential within you. I could take that immortality from you and grant you the experience to grow up. Then, once you’re old enough, you can have it back again.”
“NO. If she dies at any point before you grant it back, her soul is debted to the Hells and she will be tortured. We had no choice,” I say calmly, trying to contain my power while my daughter is still in his hands.
“What a shame. It can never be simple, can it?” Right then and there, Gale charges directly at Gortash, but Ketheric stops him by gripping his shirt, causing it to rip. “My dear daughter, I know how badly you want your baby back. I’ll give her to you if you can make a deal with me. Let me make up all those years that have been lost. Allow me into your life. Let’s…catch up, per se. Forgive and forget the haunting past.”
While it’s true he may want to be a part of my life, I sense deceit in his words. I have a feeling he wants me to trust him so he can find a way to use me for his selfish gains and immortality.
“You may have been a decent man at one point, but you’re a manipulator. You will never gain my trust. Power is too important for you to care about anything else.”
“I hear the hurt in your voice, darling. You want to love me, you want to respect me. You can.” Gaslighting is what he’s good at, and he’s either telling the truth, or masking his intentions very well.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore.” Gale places his hand on my right shoulder, his eyes saddened as he realizes I’m being sucked into his trap.
“Love, he’s willing to keep our baby locked in soul chains if you don’t obey him. Do not believe a single word he says.” Gortash glares at him, then sighs, but a hint of sadness is lingering in his breath. It’s so hard to decipher his intentions.
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jacjac248 · 2 years ago
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Let Me In
*This can be between any character of your choosing. I had no one in mind.
“I crave love but I am too scared to let anyone in. No one really knows me, I won’t let them. They only know what I want them to know. They don’t know how I truly think and feel. I keep them at a safe distance. Where they won’t hurt me. The idea of us is only hypothetical. It can only be hypothetical. Where its a perfect relationship where no one gets hurt. That’s why I watch edits of couples on youtube or read fanfiction because they usually only show the caring and loving parts. If things get too sad or realistic I can just turn it off and find another happy fictional story. To indulge in my fantasy of what I want in life. Why should I change my actions for you? Why should I risk the agony and pain for the possibility of us?”
“I can-” 
“I’m waiting to hear all the things I don’t like about myself, all the struggles I face to be explanations for why the idea of us can’t happen. I don’t want to hear it, I won’t be able to take it. I’ll crumble. I’ll fall. It will take too long to put me back together. You’ll get tired, you’ll walk away. Leave me behind. I won’t do it. I’ll keep pretending that I’m fine being alone because it is worth the pain than feeling the heartbreak of our demise. The things that you love about me now will become the reasons for you leaving in the future. Maybe this is what my life is supposed to be. Lonely. Maybe this is how I reach my greatest potential. Who knows?”
“Will you stop and listen for a moment? I don’t think you understand that I want to be there for you. I want to be that person that catches you when you fall and helps you put yourself back together. No matter how long it takes because you are worth waiting for. Even if you are not the same person after the fall, I’ll still want to be with you. I want to be that person you go to when things are too much when the world is too crazy and you need peace. But you have to let me in first. I want to know you more, I want to see the good, bad and the ugly. Whatever you think will drive or scare me away, it won’t. Before you start again how we are destined to fall through” 
“We are-”
“Nothing is absolute but if we take it one step at a time, we can face whatever problems together and get through them. Don’t waste time on hypotheticals, no relationship is perfect, we are going to have issues and fights because that is how relationships are. The important part is how we respond to them. I know you are scared, and so am I. We’ll figure it out together. I want to be with you but you have to meet me halfway. You have to give us the space to try. If you don’t nothing will ever work with me or with someone else.”
“This is a lot, I need time to figure it out. Give me time”
“I’ll give you time but I’ll come back. I’ll always come back for you”
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firenationtealord · 1 year ago
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Uncle Iroh,
I could really use your advice if you can spare a moment. I’m a young lady in my late 20s and am currently engaged. My fiancé and I have been together for 8 years, but I find that I’m unhappy. For some time I questioned why I was so unhappy when this should be a joyous time in my life. I found the reason for my despair when confiding in a friend. In truth I had lost sight of myself while trying to please my partner. I had pushed aside things I loved and values I held close just to make things work, causing me to feel empty. I’ve confided in this same friend several times now and find that I’ve become attracted to them, possibly due to the fact they share the values I have. This friend accepts me for who I am, even the pieces of me that have become broken and crumbled. I know I should leave my fiancé and work on bettering myself before starting something with someone else, but I’m afraid. Part of me wishes to tell my friend how I feel, even though I know I should take time to find myself again. I suppose I’m afraid that if I don’t say something my friend will find someone else. I’ve questioned telling them I like them and asking them if they’d be willing to wait for me, but that seems a selfish thing to ask. I’m also afraid in regards to leaving my fiancé. Change is not easy and I worry how he will react when I say I need to leave. Any wisdom you can provide me is greatly appreciated.
Thank you,
Your Niece
Only you can truly know your own heart in this matter, but it sounds like you are worried the most about losing yourself to someone else. You did not say whether you have tried communicating this issue with your partner, but I believe that, at least, may be the first step, even if it still leads to leaving him. That is, if it is safe to do so. I do not know all of your situation. But it sounds like you do not feel he will listen to you, and if that is truly the case, it is better to know now than to continue waiting. If you have been living together, relying on each other, it may be more difficult, so take what steps you need to and make sure you have a plan in place.
It is sometimes the case that we develop feelings for someone who has helped us, as a way to separate from an old partner and cope with our anguish. I cannot tell you whether that is what is happening here. If you feel communicating with your friend is the best course of action, I often find these things can be talked out. Do not ask them to wait for you, but you can still make your feelings known, and leave that choice up to them. Take your time to find yourself, but be certain you are not then asking your friend to lose themself to please you. A good relationship must be founded on respect from both sides.
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cheekygreenty · 4 years ago
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Hi, I just saw your prompt list for Shadow&Bone!! could you possibly do No. 2 from Angst, but like with a happy ending? Like reader n Kirigan are togeather but then Alina's comes along.. just, please let be happy at the end. I like angst, but my heart can't handle sad endings 😢😢 thank you!!! ❤❤
Future- The Darkling x Reader
(Very very angsty with a happy (?) ending. It made me cry a lil bit writing it ngl)
You trusted him, wholeheartedly. At least that's what you told yourself every day since she came to the Little Palace; the place you had always called home, where you felt safe from the prying eyes of the public.
Yet now, the place was fueled by harsh rumors of him and her. Everywhere you went you could hear a whisper, nobody tried to hide it anymore, the words were always entirely devoted to your crumbling union;
'I thought they were happy'
We were.
'How can he and Alina not be together, it's destiny.'
I'm starting to think so too.
You didn't acknowledge it. Just put on a sweet smile and a brave face. Don't let them see you're hurting. Even in your own home, you had to pretend and lie, which at the end of the day, when you laid in an empty bed, made you exhausted.
He told you she meant nothing more to him than a mere weapon. But that was when she first came and when he still managed to make it to your shared chambers and would whisper sweet nothings as you fell asleep.
It was different now, on more than one occasion you caught a glimpse of them together, him looking at her the way he always looked at you. However much he claimed to be a good actor and manipulator, there was something there and he couldn't deny it either.
You hadn't confronted him about it yet fearing that if you did, the truth would hurt and sting and make all those rumors true. In addition, you haven't seen him in days and the last time you did, he told you to stay away from the wonderful Sun-Summoner.
The truth was you knew deep down in your heart that she wasn't at fault. That she was not the root of the problem. You constantly fought with yourself to stop any hatred you felt towards her. She was lovely, kind compassionate, and innocent. She didn't deserve to feel your wrath.
But with that came the confusion of who to blame. You or Him. It made you tired and weak. The smallest of tasks made you drained and tears would well in your eyes at the thought of having to live another day like this, a day full of questioning yourself and the man you loved more than anything in the world.
No matter how much of a strong person you swore you were, this was taking a substantial toll on you. He had become your support network and he knew it, he loved it. He always said he finally felt appreciated when you came around, that he wasn't alone anymore. He had conditioned you to be this way. When times got tough, he was always your shoulder to cry on.
No doubt that shoulder was now next to Alina. Perhaps they went on a horse ride, visited the Black Heretic fountain, or were enjoying a rendezvous next to the lake.
You didn't want to know, all that mattered was that he wasn't there with you when you were falling apart. Maybe you relied on him too much.
You wondered if he noticed the whispers too, or the way you'd been missing crucial meetings, or even if he noticed you wearing your red kefta more often, ditching the black once you'd heard Genya speak of making a golden-black kefta for Alina, per the Darkling's request.
That was a punch in the gut. It hurt more than him avoiding conversation with you or even his deterrence of touching you. He had bestowed his colors to her when not even three months ago he didn't know she existed. It had taken you a long time to gain his trust and don his signature black yet all she had to do was waltz in and show up. And it hurt.
And now here you were, training the next generation of heartrenderers, as you did almost every day. You had given your life to the Little Palace and its Grisha and this is how you were being repaid. Not even Ivan, who you had shaped into an excellent soldier, had looked your way lately.
'Excuse me Ms. Y/L/N I have an urgent request from the General' You whipped your head around to the young Grisha boy with an obviously hurt look on your face which he couldn't understand.
'Of course' you choked out and took the piece of paper from his hands and watched him in sorrow as he left.
Ms.Y/L/N? what happened to moya sovereignny? You were never one to uphold the formality, but this was just another blow to your confidence. You were no longer referred to as his other half which only meant your position in the palace was quickly dwindling.
You opened the wax-sealed envelope and took out the thick sheet of paper. There was a time when he himself would deliver the news to you himself and use it as an excuse to spend extra time with you.
'I cannot make it to the meeting with the King this evening, attend and report back to me anything relevant, no horse business'
You scoffed loudly, drawing attention from the young Corporalki around you and leaned on the table in front of you. Not even a please or thank you. With the note clutched in your hand and tears of frustration in your eyes, you stormed out of the Corporalki room and towards his war room.
You peeked through the open door and seen him. He didn't look at all busy as he chatted with Zoya, Ivan, Fedyor, and some other Squaller you didn't recognize. Zoya threw her head back in laughter at something Fedyor said but Aleksander kept his stony expression. You threw the door open dramatically and everyone froze.
'Leave us' you cautioned as Aleksander's onyx eyes looked right into your own.
Nobody moved but Zoya was the first to speak ' Y/N, we're actually in a meeting if you couldn't tell' while everyone nodded along, except him.
You never had anything against anyone in that room, but in that moment you couldn't help yourself and used your small science to bring everyone to their knees in front of you, except him.
'Leave us' His voice rang out in the midst of their sharp breaths and chest-clutching. They scrambled to their feet and left one by one, Fedyor quietly muttering 'moya sovereignny' as he passed you which filled you with some courage. The door shut and the sound echoed over the walls.
You threw the note across the room and let it hit his arm. 'Did you forget your manners General? Or does it only apply to the people you claim to love?'
'Funny you should say that Y/N, you haven't attended any meetings in weeks without providing a reason. You're making me look like a fool'
'I'M MAKING YOU LOOK LIKE A FOOL?!' Your tears were now streaming down your face, falling quicker than you could wipe them away.
He stayed silent and that broke your heart even more, he could've said something, anything.
'Aleksander, I'm trying to keep myself together for everyone, I'm trying so very hard to appear normal and happy but I don't think I can do this any longer. The whispers and the rumors, watching you and her-' You slid down the door and sat on the floor, head resting on your knees. '-It's getting to me.... and it's killing me.'
You thanked the Saints you didn't see his face, for the silence spoke for itself. He didn't deny anything or reach out to comfort you. I've lost him.
'All I wanted was a happy ending.' You laughed a sad laugh that pulled at his heartstrings. With your eyes still facing away from him, you didn't see his hand go up to wipe the lone tear that fell down his face or the slight shake in his hands as he did so. He had no words that would comfort you. He knew what he'd done. He'd been avoiding you ever since he realized it. He didn't want to see you cry or see how his actions affected you.
Telling you that it means nothing to him was of no use. You had it in your mind now, forever engrained around his name, the rumors wouldn't stop and Alina was still around. He truly felt nothing of importance for her. All she meant for him was a key to a better future with you.
He approached you slowly, getting down on his knees next to you. He took your hand in his and held it up to his lips. He never prayed, but right now he silently muttered words to all the Saints. Don't let her leave.
'I'm so sorry Darling. Y/N I love you so much.'
'But you love her more' You yanked your hands away.
'NO. no. Y/N. I swear it. You are everything to me' He had grown serious now, he wanted you to look at him. He missed you.
'Then explain why you're parading her around like a Queen, letting her wear your colors, probably sleeping in her bed'
'I have never toucher her in that way. I'm yours Y/N.' Please look at me.
You lifted your head and looked at his beautiful face. He too looked tired, exhausted. His eyes were red and puffy. Saints, I've never seen him cry.
'You will have a happy ending. I promise Darling' He took your face into his hands and connected your foreheads together. 'I promise. I'm doing everything I can to make sure you will, and even if I can't, I swear you will you and our children-'
Children. Aleksander never spoke of them to the point where you had settled with the idea you'll never have them. Something about the desperation in his voice made you believe him, Aleksander was strong, he never gave up but he also never sacrificed himself for anybody. Up until now, you didn't think yourself worthy enough to be saved in exchange for him.
'-I would give up everything to see you and them safe, away from harm's way. Right now, the world doesn't deserve them, but once I do what I have to do, I'll give you children. However many you want, Just stay. Please'
You were borderline hysterical as you melted into his embrace. Weeks of frustration and hurt disappeared into thin air. Aleksander held you so tight you were having trouble breathing but you didn't care. He held you all day and all night. All meetings and tasks forgotten.
He explained everything in detail, from the stag and firebird to what happens if things don't go to plan. He kept nothing from you, not even the stress and pressure he felt. You comforted him as he always does to you. You fell asleep together and dreamed of a life with a happy ending, one where you never had to doubt his motives, you dreamed of your future.
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dancingamongstdust · 3 years ago
Text
MHA Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)
All Might
There was an ache in your shoulder despite the painkillers. It was persistent, a constant reminder that your time in U.A. was beginning to lower your reaction speed. Perhaps you should consider returning to a full-time career in the hero world instead of taking random jobs here and there.
Sighing, you finished up with your costume and opened the door to find none other than Principle Nezu waiting for you.
“Great timing!” he chirped. “I was about to come and tell you that you’ll be sharing your second-year physical training class today.”
“The class that begins in twenty minutes?”
“That very one. When I found out that you had injured yourself, I thought that it would be best for you to take on an assistant of sort.” Nezu hummed softly to himself, as if wondering if he should continue. “And perhaps it will be a good experience for Toshinori to see how one can balance their time.”
You chuckled, catching onto the principle’s plan. “I don’t think a hero of All Might’s stature would have anything to learn from somebody like me.”
“There’s no doubt that he’s the better hero –“
“You could put that more nicely.”
“But you have far more experience teaching,” Nezu finished. “You take it easy to ensure your continued health and even though you whine about your lack of excitement, you never go out and chase it.”
That was true. Every year, you told the principle that you would be quitting and each time, he would laugh and tell you that you never would. You blamed the students. They were way too easy to get attached to.
All Might was waiting at the training grounds, his hands on his hips and a smile on his face. The latter looked almost painted on. He absolutely towered over you, seemingly taller in person.
“We haven’t met properly before,” you said, giving your name. “But may I just say that I have endless respect for your heroic accomplishments.”
He laughed proudly. “Thank you. Nezu says that you got injured during a fight with a villain, is everything alright?”
There was something about his voice that you didn’t quite like. It just sounded so patently fake. Perhaps that was why you hadn’t been surprised when the news about his true form was shared amongst the faculty. It seemed to you that it should have been a given. Nobody spoke like he did in their day to day lives.
“It’s a shoulder injury,” you said. “In a similar line, you can drop the All Might moniker for a short while if you want. This class is incapable of arriving less than ten minutes late.”
“That’s alright! I’m sure this is a far more useful form.”
“Suit yourself,” you said with a nod. You rolled your shoulder and winced. “I’m going to need to have you taking over the majority of the hands-on training if that’s alright with you? If I push myself now, I’m just going to do more damage to the muscles.”
All Might gave an affirmative and then pondered your words. It was unsurprising when he seemingly vanished into a cloud of smoke, dropping the vast majority of his muscles and showing a far-more human façade.
“Perhaps you’re right,” he acknowledged. “Some rest before teaching would be easier on my injuries.”
You smiled. “The last thing you want to do is let these students think they’re strong enough to take you on just yet. Don’t need that going to their heads.”
Endeavor
It was an accident that led to your first encounter with the recently elected number one hero. And it had mostly been as a result of a very long day filled with endless bad luck.
You had been walking through the parking garage after having coffee spilled on you, losing your keys, and nearly breaking your ankle when an escalator stopped working. It was overall an awful day. And it was about to get even worse.
It must have been as a result of some kind of villain but the exact situation escaped you. All that you knew was that somebody got thrown from out of nowhere. They flew into one of the pillars and cracked it. You jumped and immediately rushed over to them. It was only once you were right beside him that you realised the fire was part of him.
“You’re Endeavor…” you breathed. “Are you alright?”
The hero stood, clearly shaken. A deep scowl covered his face. He was much, much taller than you had thought he would ever be. “Get out of here before you get hurt.”
Before either of you could do anything else though, the ground seemed to tremble, much like an earthquake. You looked up wearily. This was the ground floor so it wasn’t like you could fall through anywhere.
And then the ceiling started to crumble.
You barely had time to react, just screwing your eyes shut and hoping for the best. A wave of heat washed over you. Dust filled your lungs and you coughed as all around you, a cacophony of collapsing rubble filled the air.
An unnatural silence took over.
Slowly, you opened your eyes. It was far too dark with a flickering light illuminating a large cavern of rubble held up by a few of the pillars that were still standing. Powder swirled around you, filling your lungs and making you cough heavily. Then you noticed the reason that you hadn’t gotten so much as a scratch.
Endeavor stood over you, shielding you entirely. He showed no visible discomfort but as you stared, you realised that part of his suit had been ripped and blood trickled down his side.
A few seconds passed and he moved away. In the tight space, he was unable to even stand straight. “Damn it,” he cursed. “There’s no way that Hawks can move any of this nonsense. We’re going to be stuck here until rescue teams arrive.”
You sunk down slowly, sitting against something sharp and putting your hand over your mouth. “I’m going to die,” you whispered. “There’s no air here…”
“Don’t be dramatic,” the pro-hero snapped. “We have plenty of time before the air runs out. If it was just me, I could blast through here in no time.”
“Why can’t you?”
He stared at you as though you were stupid. “Either I would risk bringing the rest of this concrete down on your head or you would stand too close and get burnt. Somehow, I don’t think you would prefer either of those options.”
You shook your head and tried to hold back tears. This day had been worse than any other in your life. Should you call your family and friends? Was it worth worrying them just to hear their voices? Endeavor didn’t seem worried so maybe you should just trust that you would get out and everything would be fine. Or maybe you would die and –
Your thoughts were cut off by him suddenly appearing in front of you. “Relax,” he said. “If you panic, you’re just going to make the entire situation worse.”
“We’re trapped under concrete,” you said. “We could die.”
“You’re not going to die. Now stop being pathetic and find a way to occupy yourself that doesn’t cause a panic attack.”
You swallowed and took a deep breath. “Alright. Alright.”
He nodded, moving considerably further away and then his flames flickered off. And that was your first meeting with Endeavor. Surprisingly, you ended up speaking until you were rescued.
Eraserhead
It had all begun years ago.
You remembered distinctly how you had been sitting in the garden and watching the bees happily buzz past. It was a warm day with a slight saltiness to the air. A perfect time to enjoy the summer as though you had no worries in the world.
Conversation filled the air and you perked up, recognising one of the voices. You had only managed to stand up when a blur of blue hair slammed into your side, pulling you into a tight hug with a happy shout of your name. Laughter filled the air as you nearly fell, unable to even hug back.
“Oboro!” you giggled. “I thought you were only getting back next week!”
He finally let you go and shot you a smile that made the sun look dim. “I was but then my parents said my friends could stay over! Come meet them.”
Oboro had been your closest friend for years but since going to U.A., you had seen less and less of him. That wasn’t to say that you hadn’t kept in contact of course but you missed him greatly.
His friends were… not what you expected.
The exceptionally loud blond was Hizashi Yamada and his quirk was volume-based. He greeted you with a booming shout, apparently having been told about you several times before arriving.
But Shota Aizawa interested you far more. He didn’t speak much and you never did find out his quirk when you were younger. When you’d asked why he wanted to be a hero, he just told you that he liked it. The rest of the week, you developed a bit of a crush on him and spent most of your time trying to impress him.
When the week ended, you didn’t see him again for a very long time and the next time you saw him, it was under circumstances you had never even imagined.
You were wearing a veil to hide your face. There was no dramatic rain or dark thunder on the day of the funeral. Rather fittingly, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. You liked to imagine that was Oboro’s final gift. A beautiful day to celebrate him.
Yamada had put his hand on your shoulder, subdued and quiet for the first time. He was a pro-hero now and you often saw his face on magazines.
Soon, he left to speak to others and you remained by the grave with only one other.
“Being a hero is more dangerous than I ever thought,” you said, not sure why you were speaking but feeling the urge to regardless. “You and Yamada have to stay as safe as you can, alright? He would want that.”
Aizawa glared at you from the corner of his eye. “How would you know that?”
“Because you were the most important people in the world to him,” you said. “Of course that’s what he would want.”
Aizawa didn’t speak anymore but after a while, he turned to leave. Before going, he paused and looked as though he wanted to say or do something. You met his gaze. It felt as though he could see straight through your veil, revealing the tears that streaked your face. The atmosphere wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just sad.
Still, standing there and just existing helped you to remember the loss wasn’t just your own. When Aizawa left, you turned back to Oboro’s gravestone feeling less alone in the world.
You were going to miss him like hell but you wouldn’t be remembering him by yourself.
Fatgum
As a solitary and underground hero, it was quite rare that you were contacted for big jobs. Rarer still that you took them instead of passing them on.
But something was different about this time.
This time, you had a personal vendetta drawing you to one of your least-favourite jobs – working with other heroes. It wasn’t that you didn’t get along with them but many weren’t in it for actually helping people. That put a bad taste in your mouth.
The job wasn’t technically being led by you purely because the information had come through a larger agency. They hadn’t wanted to pass it off to you alone so now you were sitting in the briefing room, listening to them going over everything that your investigations had revealed. No credit given, of course.
You stood toward the end and offered a simple warning. The villain that you were after had little concern about causing collateral. If anything, he relished in it. Your warning was primarily targeted at some of the heroes whom you knew dealt more with casual villains.
Many of them got overwhelmed when they came up against drug dealers and sex traffickers instead of pickpockets.
And then everybody dispersed, each having their own orders about how they would contribute to a safe arrest.
Leaving you alone. At least, you thought you were alone until somebody spoke behind you.
“Do you know what always calms me down? Taiyaki.”
You startled, though you didn’t let it become noticeable. Instead you turned to find yourself absolutely dwarfed by the BMI hero, Fatgum. Somebody you had always known about but never gotten a chance to meet.
“Do I really look that stressed?” you enquired.
He chuckled. “Not to be rude, but you definitely do.”
You sighed and looked at the documents in your hands. It was probably best that you didn’t have a mirror on you. “I’m worried about this case,” you said. “This guy has slipped through my hands a few too many times.”
Fatgum nodded. “I know how that feels but don’t worry too much. Everybody here is a capable hero and together, we’ll get him for sure.”
You raised an eyebrow. Perhaps a few were capable but not everybody.
“You’re too cynical,” he reprimanded though there was little malice to his words. “You should try to trust the rest of us. At least for long enough to get a little sleep.”
You reached up and touched the bags that had formed under your eyes. “Thank you for your concern but I’ll be perfectly fine.” You shoved the documents into a small bag and slung it over your shoulder. Once you dropped them off at home, you could head back out and see if anything had popped up.
“It’s still pretty early,” Fatgum mused. “What are your plans?”
“I’m going to go and see if any of my sources have found new information.”
“Uwabami was meant to be doing that tonight accourding to the schedule,” he pointed out. “But you’re probably not going to be taking the night off. Why don’t you join me for my patrol? You can keep an ear to the ground and also not continue exhausting yourself.”
Sighing, you glanced over your shoulder at him. “We hardly know each other. Why are you so worried about me?”
He shrugged. “Too many heroes drive themselves crazy with this kind of stuff. Come on. My work study students are great, you’ll love them both.”
There was a reason that you didn’t take any of those on but admittedly his two students were entertaining.
Gang Orca
It was all for the sake of the cameras.
You had to remember that when you were getting up before the sun rose. Everything had to be absolutely perfect about your appearance. If it wasn’t then your little ruse would be seen through by every reporter with half a braincell.
Then you had to get to the setup site and speak with the marketing team secretly. You stood with the team leader to one side, discussing everything like old friends over a cup of coffee.
“Essentially, what we’re looking for is a very breathless and awe-struck victim,” he explained to you. “When you speak to the media, try and make it like you never even thought of Gang Orca much before but now his rescue has made him into your favourite. We’re trying to build a greater trust with the public especially amongst children.”
You pulled a face. “I don’t much like working with kids but for a small increase, I can become quite the lover of them for a short while.”
The guy smiled. “You’re one of the best, otherwise I wouldn’t have hired you. You can get your increase.”
“Thank you. Now let’s get to work.”
You made your way to the ‘accident’ site. The costume team ripped your shirt and you had some fake blood dotted around your head. Nothing to make your injuries too severe but enough for some pity.
And then you climbed under the wreck and waited.
Approved photographers snapped their pictures as you were rescued from your metal prison by the tall Gang Orca. His strength alone was enough to pull the door free. He held his hand out to you while using his other to lift the car high enough to help you out. You made a show of crawling free and then stumbling a little.
With one hand on your head, you leaned against him and stared up with a grateful expression. Cameras flashed and he checked the wreck once more before leading you away for ‘medical treatment’.
Once out of view of the media circus, you straightened and wiped some of the fake blood away from your mouth. “Thank you for the rescue,” you said.
Gang Orca didn’t seem very happy about it at all. It was good that his hero image didn’t need too many smiles.
“I’m going to guess that this wasn’t really your idea?”
He sighed. “No. I don’t like the need to fake rescues when there are real people who should be getting help from a hero.”
“But those people aren’t getting paid to better the public’s opinion of you,” you said. “Twenty minutes here can be what knocks you off lists like ‘scariest heroes’ and similar stuff. That way, you get even more opportunities to save people.”
You couldn’t tell if he was grimacing or not but he definitely appeared to be. It made sense. While some heroes relished in the easier work, many didn’t like the media part of their jobs.
“If you’re happy with it, I’d like your autograph,” you said. “It’ll help me sell the whole situation a lot easier.”
“Alright.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t have a warm opinion of the media either,” you said. “They’re vultures who benefit from the fall of good heroes. What I, and others, do helps stop the best from being sidelined just because they’re intimidating or unmarketable. You’re in this for the right reason but the news organisations don’t care about that.”
He sighed deeply. “It’s unfortunate that you’re right. Of course, that doesn’t mean I have to be happy with these kinds of arrangements.”
“Few people are.”
Hawks
Being a photographer was competitive work, especially in a world where people could have quirks allowing them to grow cameras from their bodies.
You had to go the extra mile in order to compete with them and carve out a name for yourself. Either you had to be there first or you had to see something that nobody else did. A good intuition never led you astray.
And so, when you found yourself walking down the right street late one afternoon, you just knew that it was time to take out your camera.
The event was nothing catastrophic. Indeed, it seemed that the main danger was people’s stupidity. A fire had started on the bottom floor of an office building and instead of waiting for first responders to do their jobs, people were choosing to make things more difficult by climbing out of windows and stuff like that.
Soon enough, heroes were on the scene and you had your camera ready.
Naturally, Backdraft was the first to arrive and you got some great photos of the rescue hero doing what he did best. The light from the flames perfectly illuminated the hero and made the entire situation feel a great deal more dramatic than it was.
The second hero was a young woman whose name escaped your mind. She assisted the civilians as best she could but, no sooner did she help one down, and the person was practically taken from her arms.
Bright red feathers flew across the scene, darting into the building and pulling every person free by their clothing. They were lowered safely to the ground though many stumbled.
You didn’t lower your camera but you cursed out Hawks under your breath.
Never, in your wildest imagination, did you expect to hear him respond.
“Well, that’s not a very nice thing to say.”
You startled, just about dropping your camera on the ground in shock. He was perched above your head, atop one of the streetlights, a smirk on his face and his visor down. His wings were shorter than usual and the only way you could tell he was even helping with the incident.
“You ruined my photo,” you said. “And she had him, you know?”
“She was moving too slow. The poor guy would have been stuck in the air for several minutes longer and that’s just not good on the heart. Besides, I can make up for your lost photo if you snap a shot in the next three seconds.”
You scoffed. “A photo of you sitting on a streetlight? From this angle?”
“What? Not dramatic enough for you?”
“Not unique enough, more like. You’re the most photographed hero in the whole of Japan. The internet is teeming with images of you from every possible angle, distance, and situation. I’ve seen them all.”
For some reason, that seemed to get to the pro-hero a little and you were surprised when he landed beside you. You were very rarely this close to a pro, your bravado disappearing now that he was actually standing there.
“So you’re saying I’m not worth a photo?”
Part of you felt like saying that he was and quickly taking one but your pride didn’t allow it. “Not when there are lesser-known heroes here. They don’t have crazy stalkers willing to chase them around the city for any picture.”
“And aren’t they luckier for it,” he sighed. “Ah well, your loss. I’ll see you around.”
With a flap of his wings, he was gone and you watched him go, fighting the urge to snap a photo the entire time.
Midnight
Some would call you shallow but interviews were one of your favourite parts of being a hero. Getting to answer questions and engage with the people who admired you was an experience that you just adored. Not only that but they were often the best place to clear up rumours or speculations so long as they were edited well.
With a reliable broadcaster and positive outcomes on all of your latest jobs, you were extremely excited to be offered an interview. You knew there was an ulterior motive of some kind but you hadn’t been sure as to what.
But still, you arrived early, dressed in your hero costume, and had your makeup done up as best as it could be.
And then you watched the interview before you and you quickly realised that the broadcast was doing a segment. One focused on hero costumes.
Your own was quite unique, a step away from the usual appearance of heroes. Personally, you loved it.
The public however was divided on whether it was fashion forward or just a flop.
And clearly that was why individual heroes had been chosen.
Being interviewed at the moment and practically being drilled on the ins-and-outs of her costume was nobody other than Midnight herself. She looked absolutely amazing as ever. A natural on the stage and in the field.
You had to admit however that you didn’t feel comfortable with the questions they were asking her. She answered smoothly but mostly in deflection.
The other heroes around you agreed with your assessment. This felt like an attempt at creating a media circus. Few were interested in participating anymore.
The moment Midnight gave her leave, the producers began gesturing at you. You gave them a look and turned around with the rest of the heroes there.
Midnight was in a bad mood but she put on a smirk when you made eye contact with her.
“We’re leaving,” you told her. “None of us were told that this was going to be working off controversy.” You wanted to apologise that she had been the first to get interrogated but you didn’t know how to do that.
She laughed. “You weren’t expecting there to be a catch?”
“I mean, I was but I thought they were a little better than running a segment that’s so clearly focused on… well…”
“Sex appeal?” Midnight asked.
You awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah. It probably should have tipped us off that we were all around the same status. No real big names aside from your own have worked with this broadcast channel.”
“And nobody will again once I speak to a few contacts,” Midnight said, a hint of bitterness finally seeping into her voice. “Guess that will teach me to give new places a chance. They’re all looking for the big ratings instead of actual interest. Maybe I should just go into being a teacher full time at this rate.”
“Aren’t you already doing that?”
She shushed you. “Not if I don’t say it out loud.”
You laughed and stuck by her as your group exited the building, ignoring the clamoring from the higher-ups who were desperately trying to convince you to stay. The type of people who would take advantage of being able to pressure people into things. Lovely.
“Don’t you hate how rude they are to you?” you asked her. “I get so furious sometimes and my questions are always tame compared to yours.”
She shrugged. “At some point, you get used to it. I don’t think there’s a question out there that would shock me anymore.”
You really hoped you never reached that point.
Mirko
The villain pulled experimentally at his cuffs. He twisted around and began shuffling when he met your eyes.
“Where exactly are you trying to go?”
He grumbled something under his breath and stopped moving. You raised a hand to your head and sighed. At this rate, you were going to wind up with wrinkles. One of your favourite outfits had been destroyed by this little altercation and nobody had even bothered to show up yet. Somebody had called emergency services, right?
“Stop moving, I can hear you,” you snapped.
The villain would have been a greater threat if you hadn’t happened to be shopping in the area. Your quirk was the perfect match for his own and it allowed you to quickly take control of an otherwise dangerous situation.
Now you sat on a bench, him tied to the nearest building support bench, and you waited for somebody to arrive and take him off your hands.
There was a thump somewhere to your right and you lazily looked up from your phone. Only for your heart to kind of stutter.
“Aw, come on! I was told there was going to be some excitement over here!” Mirko complained. “What gives?!”
The rabbit hero was absolutely gorgeous with white hair and legs that went on for literal days. She was the epitome of everything you aspired to be as a hero. What she did was on her own terms and she fought for the thrill of it all.
You had just never expected to actually meet her.
“I’ve dealt with it,” you said once you had gotten over your shock. You gestured towards the villain. “No problems here.”
Mirko bounded over and stuck her face way too close to his. Her nose seemed to twitch in excitement. “You don’t seem so tough,” she scoffed. “I got the call and it said that this was setting itself up to be a good clash! Are you just that good?”
Her eyes fell on you, bright and teasing. A strand of hair fell in front of her face and she huffed it away without breaking eye contact.
“I am,” you said, mostly joking but feeling unable to deny it.
She threw her head back and laughed. “That’s a good answer. I like your confidence.” She eyed what you were wearing. “Your costume could use some work though.”
You chuckled. “It’s actually pretty similar to yours when I’m not interrupted while shopping. I’ve always loved your style.”
She nodded firmly as though that was a given. Then she looked around and raised an eyebrow. “If this moron interrupted your shopping, then what are you doing hanging around with him? You have things to get back to, don’t you?”
You gestured around. “I do but the police haven’t shown up yet.”
“Don’t worry about them,” she scoffed. “I’ll bounce this guy down to the station for you. Don’t waste time just standing around.”
She turned back to the villain just in time for you to both see him run around the corner. He nearly tripped but managed to keep his footing. You glanced at one another and Mirko laughed heartily. “You stay here,” she said. “I can deal with cowards in well under a minute. They always do the same things to ‘throw me off’ or whatever.”
“I’ll come with you,” you said. “It’s technically my fault he got away. And I could always learn a thing or two from the best, right?”
She grinned. “I knew I liked you. Let’s see if you can keep up though.”
Natsuo
On a good summer’s day, there was nothing better than the beach. The waves gently lapping at the shore, soft clouds drifting across the sky, and few children due to the earliness of the day. It was well worth getting up early to watch the sun creep its way over the ocean and begin what was scheduled to be the hottest day of the year.
Not that you would be outside when it hit noon. By that time, ice cream and a nice spot of shade became necessary.
For now though, you waltzed along the beach and enjoyed the sand beneath your feet. As you walked, you kept an eye out for shells though there were scarce. People came every day to collect this time of year.
In a way, that made you sad.
But the lack of shells did mean that you didn’t need to watch where you were walking quite as much. At least, that was your thought process. Shells cut your feet and there were none so why keep an eye on the sand.
The answer is broken bottles.
It was a sake bottle, probably stolen away by some kids to be drunk where their parents wouldn’t see. The searing pain made you think you’d stepped on a jellyfish. Cursing, you jerked your foot away, blood running down into the sand below.
A small wave washed up, taking the bloodied sand away to reveal the culprit.
Struggling to balance, you hopped away from the bottle and sat down, lifting your foot to see the damage. It was a rather deep slice that made you feel quite woozy. Sand was already sitting around the injury and your only option to wash it off was the very salty sea.
“Sorry, do you need some help?”
You glanced behind you to see a guy standing on the boardwalk. His hair was pale and his expression kind. Something about him seemed oddly familiar but you weren’t sure why.
“I stood on a bottle,” you said. “It’s alright.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you need some help getting off the sand?”
You were going to deny the offer but your entire leg felt like it was on fire. The pain was undoubtedly because of your brain flicking through reminders about the danger of stepping on glass. “If you’re alright with it.”
He made his way down to where you were sitting quite quickly and glanced at your foot. “That’s going to need stitches,” he said. He offered his water bottle to you. “You should clean it off and then put some pressure on it before we move it.”
The cut hadn’t seemed that bad to you but you hadn’t really been looking carefully. “Are you sure?” You still took the water though, hissing as you poured it over your cut.
“Very,” he said. “Do you mind your towel getting blood on it?”
“No.”
He used the towel to put pressure on the cut and then helped you stand, hobbling your way off the beach. Once there, he quickly listed off the nearest hospitals.
“Are you a medical student by any chance?” you asked, trying to keep your mind off the pain.
He blushed. “Sorry, is it obvious?”
You laughed. “Just a little but that’s okay. It was good that you happened to be nearby then. Can I get your name?”
He hesitated but then said, “Natsuo. Don’t worry about my family name.”
Curious now, especially given how familiar he looked, you were tempted to push. But you didn’t and instead thanked him again for his help. He turned out to be correct, of course. You did need stitches.
Present Mic
You stretched before going into the office. Everything was sore – an unfortunate result of your late night. It couldn’t have been helped. Train wrecks were rarely planned.
Principle Nezu greeted you warmly when you arrived and then asked you to sit down. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, there was a recent incident on the grounds. Thirteen was badly injured and we’re in need of a new teacher with expertise in natural disaster management.” He smiled at you. “I thought you would be the perfect match.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression you were going to try convince me to take a work study student.”
“I’m sure you will one year,” he joked.
“Unlikely but you can always offer.” You sighed and turned your gaze out the window. “I have little care for children. This will be a temporary position, yes?”
“We’ll see how it goes.”
You gave him a look but the principle just sipped at his tea. He already knew that you were going to accept – if only because you had always been a close friend of Thirteen’s. Taking over one class wasn’t going to kill you.
“I don’t have any experience in this,” you reasoned. “Other schools must have teachers who can come and cover classes?”
“None who are as experienced in the field as you are. So I’ve organised with Hizashi Yamada to take you through his methods of teaching and you can convert them over. He’ll be here soon.”
You sunk further into your chair, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “What would you have done if I said no?”
“Been very disappointed, of course.”
Present Mic was a hero you had always admired but you hadn’t ever expected him to be as loud in person as he was in the media. You just about jumped out of your skin when he entered the room dramatically, calling out a greeting.
Nezu gave the introductions and informed you that before doing an actual class, you had a week of acting as an assistant instructor alongside Present Mic.
“Should I invest in earbuds?” you joked.
He laughed but then actually lowered his voice as though you had reminded him. “Don’t worry. If I yell too much in class, Shota tends to come and glare through the doorway until I quieten down.”
You chuckled. “Do you have similar teaching schedules?’
“No but he claims that he can hear me from anywhere in the school. It’s the best way to find him actually. You just yell until he shows up.”
“I’ll take that as lesson number one in how to teach at U.A.”
“Lesson number one is to not take Nemuri’s flirting seriously,” he corrected. “I know it’s very flattering to think that she’s interested but she’s not. If it makes you uncomfortable, you can tell her to stop but she doesn’t always listen. It’s part of her image, you know?”
You raised an eyebrow at Nezu but he just shrugged. That didn’t seem like it was too professional but alright.
You took a deep breath and tried to pretend that this was just going to be temporary. It wasn’t like Nezu had been trying for years to get you involved at the school.
Temporary.
“Which subject do you teach?” you asked as you followed Present Mic from the office.
“English. No crazy action or anything which means you have to work double time to keep the students interested. You’ll have it far easier.”
Nobody really prepared you for the fact that Class 1A didn’t know how to do things the easy way.
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pigeonp0st · 4 years ago
Note
Hey can you do a fic where reader is under mind control of some sort from an enemy and is forced to attack Nat and the rest of the avengers and Nat has to talk her out of it and calm her down something rlly intense and angsty pls
Natasha Romanoff x Reader #6
Words: 2,177
Tumblr media
Warnings: Agnst
(tell me if there’s more I should add)
Notes:
I realized after I finished writing that I didn’t have Nat talk R out of it like you asked...I solved it in another way...i’m sorry!! I hope you enjoy anyways, thanks a lot for requesting (and sorry for spelling mistakes...there’s probably a lot) also sorry for this in general...I’m disappointed in it and the ending...I was sleep deprived and delirious for half of it...
———
It was supposed to be a simple mission, and a simple day. You and Nat had planned to head to the beach for the first time in a long time afterwards and everything. It was supposed to be a good day.
Good day...ha.
The sad truth is, is that things don’t always work out the way you expect them to. Sometimes things go horribly wrong.
Sometimes you get mind controlled by the ‘big bad’ and hurt the people you love most. Or maybe that stuff only happened to people like you. ‘Heroes.’
——-
You were conscious. That was the cruel agonizing part of it all. It’s that with every swing of your knife, every landed hit, every plea that fell from their lips, you knew what was happening.
You knew what was happening but could do nothing about it. Well...you could, technically, but it hurt. It hurt to fight. The pain was similar, you imagine, to what it feels like getting burned alive and then ran over eighteen times.
You didn’t think you could do it. Your will power wasn’t that strong. You would probably die trying to gain control—
It hurt. It hurt. You didn’t want to. You couldn’t, you—
Natasha. Natasha was saying; “fight it, Y/N, fight it,” and to you and to the pain that fighting the mind control caused, she may as well have been saying, “die, Y/N, die”
And yeah. Okay. For her, you will. For her you must.
Tears were running down your cheeks, it was the one thing the mind control didn’t have control of. It was...weird. Weird feeling such an immense amount of pain, such an immense amount of suffering, and being unable to show it. Unable to scream. You were silent, but your body felt loud, your head felt loud.
For a long minute you couldn’t hear them, you couldn’t even register the things you were seeing, all you knew was pain, everything outside of that was illegitimate.
Then, silence. For a brief, blissful moment before it was gone again. Nat’s arms were around you, and you were shaking, but completely still otherwise—finally, finally, you weren’t hurting them— “You’re okay,” Nat whispered, and how could that concept, in a few moments of agony, become something so foreign. Have you ever been okay before? Have you ever lived without this much hurt?
———-
“Nat,” you croaked, the words shaking almost as roughly as your body. “Natasha, kill me.”
Those three words, said with an immeasurable amount of desperation, were just as much not your own as your body was at this moment. They were said in a moment of pain.
Somehow, Natasha knew that. She knew that. She knows what you look like when you’re experiencing physical pain. It’s been seared into her mind countless times, but that doesn’t prevent her heart from aching as much as it does when you start begging.
“Natasha please, please baby, please. Somebody, please! Before it—”
And then you were screaming, and Natasha hates how it’s even worse than the begging.
Somehow you’ve managed to gain control of your vocals, but your body isn’t yours again, she realizes it when you start struggling against her arms…it’s a terrible thing to realize.
“Stop,” Nat yells, so obviously terrified and raw that half of the Avengers freeze where they’re circling you. “Stop fighting it, it’s okay, it’s okay.” She holds you as tightly as she can, with her eyes screwed shut. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
And god, she hates the way it sounds like a goodbye too, but she just knows that even if you could register her voice right now, you aren’t going to listen.
You’re going to keep fighting to protect her and the others, because it’s what you’ve always done.
So Natasha takes a deep breath, in and out, and tries to think about her options. She tries to think about her options with you struggling and trying to reach for your knife, and the Avengers circled around her with nothing but ashen expressions that speak of nightmares to come, and she doesn’t know. She just doesn’t know.
There’s no safe way for her to knock you out for a long period of time, not ones that won’t cause long term problems afterwards, but she doesn’t need any because suddenly your body stops struggling, and stops moving, and you’re slumped unconscious in her arms.
It’s a great relief for everyone until Natasha lifts her hand from your pulse, and says, shockingly and terrifyingly devoid of emotion; “I think she’s going into shock.”
——
Everything is a blur to Natasha after that. She recalls yelling, lights, arriving at the hospital, a countdown of; one, two, three, and then she’s sitting in a seat next to your hospital bed wondering when everything went so wrong.
——
All Natasha hears when she closes her eyes is you screaming in agony at the top of her lungs, and all she feels is the phantom touch of your cold ashen skin against her hands.
You’re okay now, Natasha reminds herself. You’re going to be okay, but there’s something deeply traumatizing and everlasting about the moments where you’re sure everything won’t be—the moments you’re almost sure the love of your life won’t be.
Hearing someone you love beg you to kill them, seeing the person you love most in so much agony, it’s...scarring...but Natasha will be strong. She has to be, because being weak hurts too much, but more importantly; you need her to be.
As traumatizing as the experience was for her, she knows that yours was just as bad—if not worse. You were strong for her, so she’ll be for you.
Like protecting her to you seemed like your only option, even while you were hurting so much because of it, it’s Natasha’s only option too.
So she’ll keep it all together, until you’re back to normal and she doesn’t have to anymore.
——-
Natasha startles when you wake up. She physically startles, because the first thing you do is start sobbing, sobbing hard enough to make Natasha concerned that you’ll start hyperventilating.
“Are you okay?” Natasha asks, up from her seat in a flash to be by your side, “is he still mind controlling you? Are you still hurting?”
You aren’t looking at her, Natasha realizes with a large amount of grief. You won’t look at her, but you’re shaking your head no to her questions, and she supposes that perhaps you are okay—physically.
She wants more than that for you, so she sighs, heavily and sadly— because she can’t protect you from this anymore than she was able to protect you from the mind control—and wraps her arms around your distraught form.
“It’s okay,” Nat mumbles, and then winces and corrects herself because it’s so clearly not. “It will be okay.”
That she is sure of, but you aren’t.
“Natasha,” you force out (Natasha tries not to remember the way you said her name yesterday), “You’re covered in- you’re covered in bruises and cuts...baby, i’m so sorry.”
Your voice cracks on sorry, and Natasha closes her eyes to prevent her own tears from falling. “It wasn’t you,” she whispers fiercely, “i’m not mad at you. Of course i’m not.”
“You should be.”
You pull away from her then. Natasha feels the loss in her heart, she’s sure.
All she wants to do is hold you in her arms and never let go, but with the amount of unjustified shame you’re feeling she doubts you’ll let her.
“Your arm,” you stutter, “did it need stitches?”
Natasha won’t lie to you, so she says nothing—instead she tries to meet your haunted eyes. It’s a useless attempt.
She knows what you’re remembering, and she hates it. “The cut on my neck...it wasn’t that deep. It shouldn’t even scar.”
“I didn’t ask you about the cut on your neck, Natasha.”
Natasha tenses where she’s standing, caught off guard by the loathing in your voice until she realizes that it’s not directed at her, but at yourself.
Your eyes finally, finally, meet Natasha’s. They’re tear brimmed, scared, and unbelievably angry. “I’m going to kill him,” you rasp brokenly, “Natasha, i’m going to kill him.”
——-
Nat says nothing. She just continues to stare back at you.
“He had no right, Natasha, he had no right to do that to me,” your face is crumbling now, anger turning back into devastation in an instant. “Nat, why—why was it me? I—god, i’m so angry, i’m so—i’m so sorry. I’m sorry, i’m sorry. God...what did I do?”
Natasha still says nothing, why isn’t she saying anything? You want to yell at her, you want her to yell at you, you want—you want.
“Is Clint...is he okay?” You ask wobbly.
You remember vividly the moment you stabbed him, and the betrayal on his face, the betrayal on everyone’s faces until they realized you weren’t in control of your own body.
“He’s okay,” Natasha says simply. Then, “the man who did what he did to you...Wanda is handling it. She’s able to block out his mind control.”
“Okay.”
“Can I hold you?”
“What?”
Natasha shifts where she stands, looking down. She’s never looked more uncertain. “You didn’t seem to want me close before...I wasn’t sure…”
Oh.
“Nat,” you whisper, heartbroken, “I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust I’m me.”
Natasha tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and leans down to kiss your temple. You want nothing more than for her to get away from you. You don’t want to hurt her ever again. You can’t. “Oh baby,” she laughs a sad sort of laugh, “you’ve been handcuffed.”
And that, for whatever reason, starts another wave of unreleased tears, but you're laughing now too...if only at the insanity of your situation.
You feel restricted by the handcuffs, trapped in the way you were during the mind control, but you also feel safe. Safe from doing harm, so you allow her, between breaths, to join you on the hospital bed.
She lets out a relieved breath when you do, both because she’s allowed to hold you, and because you’re laughing...yeah it might me a manic sort of laugh, but it’s something.
Something is better than nothing. It’s a start.
——
“Natasha, I can tie my own fucking shoes.”
Nat looks up at you from where she’s crouched by your feet, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Then why’d you ask me to do it?”
“W-What? No I didn’t.” Mind controlled. You were mind controlled again. Fuck—
“Yeah you did,” Natasha reminds gently, “while you were eating your disgusting jello.”
Oh. Yeah.
You release a shaky breath, laughing quietly all the while, because wow. Wow. You’re losing your mind. “I totally remembered that...they just slipped something into my jello…”
Natasha watches you carefully for a few moments before rolling her eyes and getting to her feet. “Tie your own shoes.”
“Asshole,” you mutter bitterly under your breath. Natasha pretends not to hear you and simply presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“I love you,” she confesses quietly. Natasha’s been saying as much over and over again since you first awoke.
“Now I feel like the asshole. Just go get the discharge papers.”
Finally, Natasha laughs.
——-
You’re healing still, emotionally, the Avengers and Natasha are very aware of that. They’ve been as gentle as they can possibly be with you since you left the hospital a couple of weeks ago, but now—now it’s time for an intervention.
So naturally, you press the big red emergency meeting button Steve hides in his room and force everyone to meet in the living room.
“I’m not sad anymore,” You announce to them all when Wanda asks why the fuck she was woken up for.
The grumbling immediately quiets.
“Well,” you pause, considering, “I...am. Deep down. I’m tryna work through it but it’s kinda hard now that I'm forgetting a lot of what happened.”
Natasha sits up at that, alarmed. “You’re forgetting?”
You wave your hand dismissively. “My mind is blocking it out. I’m traumatized...but pretty okay otherwise.” The others don’t look convinced, so with an annoyed groan you relent. “I’m thinking about seeing Steve’s therapist. You guys should too.”
A chorus of protest instantly comes forward, not to your surprise...but Wanda...Wanda does surprise you.
“I am, too.”
Then Natasha, “I...was actually considering it myself.”
Well then.
“I’m also considering making my own sitcom,” Wanda continues, resting her head in her hand. “What do you guys think?”
“Stick to therapy, Wanda. Stick to therapy.”
At that, everyone comes forward in agreement.
You’re sure, in that moment, that with these people you’ll be okay.
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drwcn · 4 years ago
Text
《 Without Envy 》 storyboard 9 - concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj [Master List], you should also have read [6] [6.2]
Lan Qiren coming to visit Hanguang-fu effectively put an end to Wei Wuxian's time as Lan Wangji's servant. He wanted to send Wei Wuxian back to Jiang-fu, but luckily, Jiang Yanli interfered.
Jiang Yanli has been slowly recovering since her drug-induced miscarriage, and while Wei Wuxian had slowed her progress with sedatives, he's been careful to keep an eye on her intake to make sure Jin Ziyan hasn't been messing with her again. As well, with Wei Wuxian occupying Lan Wangji's time and keeping the Jiang family in his good graces, Jiang Yanli had the time she needed to recover fully without needing to push herself to entertain Lan Wangji for favour.
“妾身见过太师,给太师请安。” “阿离啊,听说你小产后一直身体不好,这下着雨,你怎么来了。起身吧, 孩子。” “承蒙太师与陛下惦记,殿下垂怜,阿离的身子已经大好了。阿羡本是妾身院里的,是妾身的陪嫁,一直都安分守己,对王府对殿下忠心不二。是妾身无用,身子一直不见好才让阿羡到王爷身边侍奉。刚见阿羡被太师训斥,相比是阿离平日里管教无方,无心顶撞了太师。有什么过错,都是妾身的错,还请太师责罚。” ~translate~ Jiang Yanli dipped into a proper curtsey, kneeling before Lan Qiren, "This humble concubine greets Taishi. I pray that you've been well." "A-Li, I've heard that you've not been well since your miscarriage. It's raining today, what troubled you to come? Rise, child." Lan Qiren's stance softened upon seeing Jiang Yanli. His late sister-in-law had no daughters, and so often summoned the daughters of nobles into court to dote on and mentor as her own. Jiang Yanli, gentle and proper, has long been known to be a favorite of the late empress. She may not be the greatest beauty in her generation, but was second to none when it came to etiquette and grace. "Thanks be to His Majesty and taishi for remembering, and thanks to dianxia's for his care, my health is much improved now. A-Xian was once a member of my court, my peijia. I've always known him to be obedient and conscious of his place, and loyal to wangye and this princely manor. It is only on account of my poor health that he's been summoned to serve at wangye's side. Earlier, I heard Taishi chastising him; surely it must be A-Li's fault for failing to teaching him propriety and thus causing his unintended offence. The fault is with A-Li, and so I humbly submit myself to your discipline, taishi." Lan Qiren sighed. He did not wish to stir up trouble over a servant. If Jiang Yanli was willing to stand up for this Wei Wuxian, then he must have his uses. At the very least, he'll be a confidant for Jiang Yanli against Jin Ziyan. Lan Qiren so hoped that one day Wangji would choose the Jiang girl as his legal spouse and secure his marriage once and for all. If sparing one lowly servant was the price then so be it. "Very well, A-Li. Since the servant is yours, then his training and discipline shall be your responsible. He is unsuited to serve at the prince's side. It is good that you have recovered; Wangji should not be without a caring partner."
And so, Wei Wuxian returned to Jiang Yanli's side as a servant. Lan Wangji had to watch him go and could not interfere. The next several days was depressing for both of them on multiple fronts.
Xue Yang was very unimpressed:
"So you're tell me that you got to spend quality time with Lan Wangji for months and then... didn't get anywhere?" "I was getting there okay? How was I supposed to know his stupid uncle was gonna barge in like some nosey busybody and ruin everything!? I haven't seen Lan Zhan in days..." I miss him. How horrifyingly embarrassing. He probably forgot me already. "Don't tell me you actually miss him??? That you - barf - fell for him? Whatever happened to standards??!" "You watch your mouth, Xue Chengmei! I'm still your shixiong! And I have standards; Lan Zhan is...very good." Xue Yang: ( ˘︹˘ ) whatever.
Lan Wangji, the sulky boy that he is, brooded for days until Lan Xichen finally sought him out for some good ol' brotherly heart to heart.
"I hear Uncle took away your shiny new toy." "Wei Ying is not a toy." "Wei Ying is it?" Lan Xichen wiggled his eyebrows. "Ah, didi, you have to think a little more creatively. So your Wei Ying has gone back to his mistress, but is his mistress not your concubine? Jiang-furen is still unpregnant, I might add. Visit her. Then surely you'll get to see him." Lan Wangji grimaced. The thought has occurred to him, but the idea of bedding anyone not Wei Ying is intolerable. "Yes, Yanli is lovely, but I'd rather not...you know..." His brother was too polite to roll his eyes. "You've done it before, Wangji." "I would not have had to, if xiongzhang simply did his duty." Lan Wangji bit back icily, and instantly regretted it. Lan Xichen's eyes widened, his cheerful-teasing expression stuttering and crumbling in seconds. "Yes...yes that's true." "My sincerest apologies, huangxiong - no - bixia." Lan Wangji rose to his feet and then bowed down deeply. "I forgot my place. I accept any punishment." Lan Xichen sighed and extended a forgiving hand to pardon him. "Not necessary, Wangji. You're right. I haven't done my duty for Gusu." He pulled the younger man to sit beside him again. "You are doing this in my stead, stepping up where I have let the country down. I should not make light of your sacrifice. The matter of a harem is inevitably complicated, which is why I never cared for one. Neither did Father. His harem had always been sparse, and his first empress was not one of his choosing. When she died in childbirth and our unborn sibling along with her, he elevated our mother's rank to Empress and visited no one else henceforth." "Mother was never popular with the ministers for that reason." "Yes. They suspected that she had something to do with...well, in any case I imagine they were quite relieved when she passed." Lan Xichen shook his head. "The harem is not a happy place, Wangji. You were born after Mother was already Empress, you would not have remembered a time when she was consort. But I do. Like you, your concubines did not get to choose their fate. The fault, ultimately, lies with me." "Huangxiong -" "It's true, Wangji. The fault is mine." Lan Xichen patted him on the arm placatingly. "You cannot love them, and clever as they are, I don't think your concubines would expect you to. However, you can ensure their happiness in other ways. Jiang-furen seems the kind to very much want a child of her own. It will make the rest of her life in your harem more bearable."
After some deliberation, Lan Wangji went back to his routine of visiting different concubines regularly, but never more than just sharing a bed-space. With the exception of Jiang Yanli. Lan Wangji could see it in her eyes; she knew who he really wanted, but those words never needed to be said aloud. Jiang Yanli was kind to him, and he was kind to her in return. All things considered, it wasn't awful being with someone who wasn't your preferred, but who knew you for yourself and shared your struggles.
"Dianxia, you must've heard, that before I married into your wangfu, I was betrothed to Jin Zixuan." She mentioned one evening over a game of weiqi. Of all his concubines (which he has 4) and friends (which he has few), Jiang Yanli's skill on the weiqi board was unparalleled. Lan Wangji half wondered how the Marquis and Marchioness of Yunmeng could have buried this talented daughter of theirs under the shadow of their son for so many years. "Yes I am aware." "I loved him." "...." For a minute Lan Wangji did not know how to reply. He stared at the chessboard. Jiang Yanli's black pieces had surrounded his white ones and forced them into a corner. "Why are you telling me this?" "Your court, my clan: we are their creatures." Jiang Yanli 's smile was knowing. "I am not A-Xian; I can see what he cannot." "Which is?" "You've fallen for each other. Completely. He denies it, heaven knows why." Jiang Yanli took a delicate sip of tea. Fleetingly, Lan Wangji imagined that if he could not have Wei Ying, if he were forced to take a legal wife to make empress, that she would make a magnificent one. "Father loved Mother. Loved her as a wife even when she was only a consort -" "And his love spurred the hate of the royal court." "They blamed her for his loving a woman more than his country, as though she should have persuaded him to love her less. I do not want the same to happen to Wei Ying." "Nor I." "Huangshu says I would need a legal spouse one day, someone virtuous and from a strong pureblood family." "Is that what dianxia wants?" "I want it to be Wei Ying, though I know it to be impossible. Barring that, I'd want to keep him safe in the harem, the size of which will only grow after I succeed the throne." "For that, dianxia will need a spouse who will reign over the harem as you rule over the country." Lan Wangji contemplated his choices and the options available to him. After some time, he placed the white piece he fiddled between his fingers back into the bamboo bowl, conceding that he'd lost this round. Jiang Yanli waited patiently for him to come to terms with the offer she already knew he would make. He wondered how long ago she had foreseen this moment, whilst simultaneously realizing that if his uncle had any idea just how intelligent she truly was, he would not be so quick to suggest her as a candidate for princess consort. A weak emperor and a strong empress never boded well for the stability of the realm. This was dangerous waters Lan Wangji was wading into, but he knew beyond doubt that the only way to survive was to keep straight ahead. He had no other path to take, none which maximally balanced what he wanted with what he needed. Jiang Yanli was his only solution, his only ally. "Huangxiong suggested that we have a child together." He finally said, staring her squarely in the eyes. "You and I can agree that the son of Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang would certainly be a strong contender amongst his brothers." "She could be a daughter." "Then I'd cherish her more. A child and a crown - would they make you happy, Yanli?" "If I said yes?" "Then they're yours." Jiang Yanli smiled.
Two months after Wei Wuxian was dismissed from Lan Wangji's service and the prince began visiting Jiang Yanli, good new was delivered to Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan. The message was this: Hanguang-wang's Jiang-furen was with child yet again.
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kiribaku-queen · 3 years ago
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Sero falling for a civilian who turns out to be a villain. Not a huge one but still bad, she wasn’t even suppose to interact with him and kept it a secret from the other villains (so not one of those were she was sent to spy on him). he tries to convince her to join good (angst) maybe end with some fluff? (Like he does save her from evil or he wants to be with her so bad he turns to evil just for her l)
In the Hands of the Most Lovely Villain
Fluff, action, angst
Word Count: 2.8K
A/N: stan latino sero
Her eyes were like the burning, passionate flames of the sun. Lively and spontaneous. Her eyes showed the story of an adventure. Sero always knew what she was thinking because her eyes showed it all. They showed so much emotion that even when she tried to hide it, she just couldn’t because her eyes never lied. One reason why he loved looking into her eyes so much. So why were these same eyes that he loved so much staring back at him with anger and fierceness?
He remembered when he first saw those eyes. They were so big and innocent, full with curiosity of the world.
You were wearing something girly that day: a sun dress with floral prints that flowed in the wind just right, enough to make any man glance at your direction. You felt like you were in a movie, where you were the main character that just moved into the big city, starting her life all over again. But you don’t normally dress like this. You decided to dress up in something out of your comfort zone because you never get to go out. And honestly, you were in love. Your father never allowed you to explore the city without the escort of your older brothers. Your four older brothers. You’ve tried escaping. Oh, how you’ve tried. Did they catch you every single time? Yes. So there was no point in trying anymore. However, on special occasions, they would allow you to get some fresh air. But only when you never left their sight at any point in time.
Today, though? You were up for a challenge.
You had to come up with a clever plan. And when you mean clever, you mean clever. So deceiving that your brothers wouldn’t be able to tell you slipped away.
Your brothers stood on every side of you. Two in front of you and two behind you, trapping you in this invisible jail. So there really was no way that you could ‘accidentally’ fall behind or run away. Looking left and right very discretely, your eyes lit up upon seeing a public bathroom. You stopped, making all 4 males stop with you. You held your stomach and faked a pained expression.
“I’m going to use the restroom,” you announced, hastily making your way to the bathroom. But you quickly got annoyed when all 4 brothers moved with you. You had only taken one step only to stop again.
“I can go by myself,” you sighed at them with a side eye.
“We can all go together,” the third oldest said.
“No!” you whined, giving them the biggest pout to convince them to let you go alone. But they knew looks could be deceiving and weren’t falling for it. They didn’t even blink. “I don’t need all of you guys to go in!”
“She’s right,” the second oldest stood up for you. You snapped your head towards him and a bright light shone in his direction. Could this be? Could a miracle be happening to you right now? Is your second oldest brother the light to your world?
“She only needs one. I’ll go,” he offered, pushing his way through but was quickly stopped when the rest of your brothers placed a hand on his chest.
“No, I’ll go!” the youngest brother wanted to replace him.
“It should be me,” the third oldest said. But your eldest brother couldn’t stand for any of the bickering.
“I’m the oldest. I’m going,” he interjected, causing you to groan in annoyance. Your eldest brother moved everyone out of his way so he could escort you into the bathroom but you had other plans.
“You want to see your young sister go to the bathroom? Pervert,” you say as you covered your chest with your arms, ashamed of all of your brothers. The look on every single one of their faces almost made you burst into laughter. The way their faces contorted into disgust almost immediately was a sight to see.
“Ew no. Just go, pipsqueak. Make it quick,” they said, turning around enough to give you privacy but close enough so that nobody could make it through. Victorious, you happily entered the bathroom and closed the door behind you. You rested against the back of the door, releasing a sigh of relief. In years, you’ve never felt more free and exhilarated. Thankfully for you, the moment you looked around, you saw a window that was slightly cracked. As quietly as you could, you made your way out of the window, taking it one leg at a time. You took your time coming out the window, trying to make as little noise as possible. When you slipped up, making a noise that you were sure your brothers were going to hear, you froze. But you looked back at the door and no one was storming in. Phew. You were safe. Gently stepping down on the ground, you entered the busy streets full of people shopping and walking around. And just like that, you escaped from the grasp of your brothers and roamed free for the first time.
Sero Hanta sat on top of the one of the roofs, eating bread and enjoying the breeze. Being a hero doesn’t give him many days off. So when he finally gets a break, he’s going to enjoy it to the fullest. Sure, he’ll see villains here and there while on break, but heroes were always there to stop them. He was just another civilian, another passer-byer that watched as the crime went down. Sero laid back and relaxed as he chomped on his bread, scanning the people below him. And that’s when he saw you.
You looked lost, walking with a plan in mind but no end destination. With big, curious eyes that sparkled in the sunlight, you aimlessly looked around, stopping to window shop from here to there. You looked like a lost child that was excited to be without a parent, able to explore the world independently for the first time.
You found yourself turning a corner, snaking your way through alleyways, only to be stuck at a dead end. No big deal. You could just turn back and retrace your steps. The moment you turned around, you tilted your head in confusion. Wait, which way did you come from again? Here? Or was it other there? The more you turned, the more you confused yourself. You pouted to yourself, thinking how you got into this situation. Panic started to rise in you, but you tried your best to settle it down because the more you panicked, the more you knew that you shouldn’t have left your brothers. And you knew you didn’t want to think that so you worked on your breathing until you calmed down fully. Getting lost was a part of life, no? This is okay. You were okay. Just try going one way and if it fails, then try again.
Sero saw the concerned look on your face, one that was scrunched up in worry. He saw how your eyes darted from left to right, trying to figure out which way was the right way. Sero got to his feet and stretched out his arms. He wasn’t on the clock but there was no problem in helping a pretty lady.
His tape came out so easily, so effortlessly. Like it was his second sense. He came a long way from high school. Back then, he had to focus on where he was shooting, how far, how sticky, when to let go, when to shoot out more. Now, he didn’t even have to think. Sometimes he doesn’t even know his tape is out already. He just sees himself flying through the sky. Sero tapes towards you, wrapping his tape around the pipe that laid just above your head, and he descended like spiderman would: holding onto it, upside down like a spider.
He thought he’d scare you, but actually blushed at your reaction. He was expecting a little yelp, maybe even a loud shriek from you. But you didn’t seem surprised by him at all. Eyes never wavering, just lips parted ever so slightly, wondering who this man was in front of you. And when Sero looked into your eyes, he instantly fell hard for you. But those can’t be the same eyes that were staring daggers into him right now.
You were tired. You were worn out. You were slightly hunched over, arms dangling to your side. You were trying to catch your breath and moving as little as possible to not open the gash on your side more, all while trying to process that the guy you were seeing in a pro-hero coming to stop you and your brothers from even more chaos. The room you were stuck in was basically falling apart. The walls were crumbling, the roof was coming undone, fire spit from all directions. Your brothers already escaped through the broken window and it was your turn next, but some hero had to stop you in your tracks.
It was only you and him in the room that was gradually falling apart. Only a piece of burning wood stood in between you two.
“(y/n)…” Sero whispers your name in disbelief.
But you didn’t have time for this. You had a job to do and right now, your priority is to get this hero off your back and catch up with your brothers. So you would do what anyone in your position would do: you attacked him.
You lunged forward with a grunt, swinging with all your might. Instead of hitting you back, Sero flies from wall to wall, dodging all your attacks. You could swing, and kick, and use your quirk all you want, but he moved away from you so swiftly that you barely managed to get him. His eyes were glued to your figure that was desperately trying to hurt him.
“(y/n),” he kept repeating your name. And that’s all your kept hearing, over and over in your head. It was distracting you from the mission.
“(y/n), please, let’s talk,” Sero begged, still trying to dodge your attacks while at the same time trying to make sure that no rubble from falling ceiling was coming down on him.
“Get away from me!” you yelled, so distracted and confused, trying to land your hardest hit, but he moved just in time to escape your punch that cracked the wall behind him.
God, you were embarrassed. Humiliated. Confused and angry at the fact that this guy you had hopelessly fallen for was a hero. A hero. Out of everything that he could have been: a cop, a teacher, a doctor, a regular guy… a god damn hero. That would never fly with your family. You were born and raised a villain. You had the villain mindset. All you ever known was to do villainous acts. You were taught that all heroes were bad in your eyes and you could never see what ‘good’ in the world they were trying to do. All your life, you hated heroes because… they were the ones who killed your mother. So how could the one you loved turn out to be a hero? This had to be some kind of mistake.
What a mistake you made because the moment you got distracted in your thoughts, Sero took the opportunity to wrap you in his tape causing you to be unable to move. You screamed and yelled, lashing about and trying to escape but all your means of escape were for naught because it wasn’t budging one bit. Sero got closer to you, trying to understand what was happening.
“(y/n), please. Stop,” he desperately tried making you listen to him but with you flailing about like a crazy woman, this was getting nowhere. And then he yells at the top of his lungs like his life depended on it.
“Stop!” he yells with all the hurt in his voice. This finally made you freeze up like you had been broken from a spell. “Just stop.” His voice goes back to being soft and caring. “This isn’t like you.”
“You don’t know me. You’ll never know me!” you retaliate, back to struggling with his tape that seemed to stick even more to you the more you moved.
“No, I do know you. You like crying about sappy romance movies and then complaining about them for the next week. You love trying new foods but pick out everything you don’t like about it. Every time you see flowers, you have to stop and admire them. You like the color blue but not a bold blue, a baby blue. You like having your hair played with, even when you’re upset. You crinkle your nose every time you have to sneeze. I know you!” Sero went on a rant, spewing everything and anything he knew about you. But deny, deny, deny you did.
“What would some hero know?” you spat in his face.
“Then just tell me! Try to make me understand! All you have to do is just tell me why you’re doing this!” And that’s when you exploded with emotion.
“It’s all because of you! All you heroes ruined my life. You killed my mother and what? You’re going to kill me now?”
“(y/n), I would never,” he reached out to cup your cheek but you hissed and pulled away from him.
“I will never, never, forgive anyone, not even you.” Angry tears poured out but it made you feel sad at the same time.
“Maybe I can help you!” Sero suggested, eyes wide with desperation. You shake your head.
“Sorry hero, I’m a villain and always will be a villain. Unless you join me, then I think we are done here.” A pocket knife that you were hiding in your sleeve slips out and you cut his tape, letting you free. Not wasting another moment, you leapt your way through the rubble and to the window. You were about to jump when a hand caught your wrist. When you looked back, it was Sero with tears brimming his eyes.
“Let go!” you try to wrestle your way out.
“I can’t. I can’t. Don’t leave. Don’t go back to them. Please!” he tried one last attempt in to getting you to stay and for him to completely understand. But what was the use? He was never going to get it. If you tried to let him into your villainous life, he would turn his back on you someday and turn you and your whole family in. You couldn’t risk it. This is why you should have never fell in love with a hero in the first place.
“Sayonara, Sero,” you whisper, using the pocket knife to cut his hand free and escape without a hitch. Sero retracks his hand and clutches it to stop the bleeding. Fuck, was he really just going to let it end like that? Was he just going to let the girl of his dreams go without putting up a fight? He had to find her again, and he knew just how to do it.
You pushed the door to the rooftop open, stumbling a bit before catching your stepping again. Policemen and heroes were right on your butt but that didn’t bother you.
“Shit,” you cursed under your breath. You stopped at the very edge of the building. One more step and you could fall over and possibly unalive yourself. Heroes and policemen, all armed with guns, surrounded you from all sides. A helicopter flew above you, keeping their eye on you. You felt a little famous because even the news was here to report on your little robbery. Eyes, cameras, guns, all on you. It’s lovely being the center of attention.
“Surrender now or we’ll shoot!” one of the policemen shouted at you. You rolled your eyes, put both hands up and slowly turned around. You gave them a sweet smile and started giggling.
“Ah, this was fun but this is where we say’ goodbye’. Adios amigos,” you say before spreading your arms wide and letting the wind take you. The chorus of gasps sang in your ears as you fell of the tall building, loving the feeling of being airborne, like you were free and alive. Everyone who was present and those who were watching on the news were shocked and bewildered that you would take your own life rather than being handed over to the police. But they got an even bigger shock when white tape securely wraps around your waist and a man is seen pulling you to him.
“Wait, isn’t that…” someone started to point out.
“It’s ex-hero Cellophane!”
“Is he an accomplice?”
“Is he a villain now?” many questioned and asked among themselves. Meanwhile, Sero helped you escape as you smiled and cuddled into him.
“You need a better code word. I almost didn’t catch you there,” Sero complained. It almost sounded like he was scolding you.
“But you caught me anyway, didn’t you?” you say sweetly, placing a big ‘ole kiss on his cheek. The frown on his face slowly transformed into a smirk.
“Anything for you right?”
“My partner in crime,” you rested your head on his chest, allowing him to take you anywhere as long as you two were together. As villains.
A/N: literally fuck me for this being so overdue. I keep saying this BUT im actually finally back into my writing mood and i had so much fun writing this piece. I just had a brainfart and idk why it took me so long to get over it. But once I started getting those juices flowing, writing became fun again. Hope you enjoyed it and I hope i did your prompt justice! Thank you for reading!
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deepseavibez · 3 years ago
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Blindspot || KTH
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-> Picture Source - Pinterest
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Blindspot [Taehyung x Reader]
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Genre - Best Friend; Fear of the Future; Nighttime Memories; Mixed Feelings;
Summary - She believed in more. In better. In bigger. That life was out there waiting to be grabbed with both hands. He's made it his sole purpose to remind her that simple moments were beautiful and meant to be enjoyed... and maybe, she would realize he was one of them.
Warning - (Slight) Angst; Anxiety; Unsure feelings; Fear of the Future; Fluff; Comfort;
Word Count - 4.7k
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🎶 - I'm Fine - BTS
TAE
‘Tae.’
‘Y/n?’ He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the time, ‘it’s 3am babe.’
‘... I'm sorry for waking you. Sorry. Go back to sleep, it's okay.’
‘Hey, no, no, I'm awake.’ Sitting up, he switched the phone to his other hand and rubbed at his eyes, ‘What's going on.’
‘It’s not important, I swear,’ he could hear her trying to mask her shakiness over the phone. ‘You can go back to sleep.’
He wouldn’t call her out on lying. He knew better than anyone when y/n was in a bad way. Once he asked her, specifically him, what was wrong, she would crumble and he wasn’t there to catch her right now. ‘Y/n. Come on, talk to me.’
‘I can't sleep.’
‘Yeah, no shit,’ he yawned back.
‘I'm so sorry for waking you.’ He could hear the trepidation in her voice.
‘You know better than to apologize for something like that, ‘ he chastised. ‘Babe, tell me about it. Was it a bad dream? Something keeping you up?’
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Y/N
You could hear shuffling over the phone as you searched for an answer. It was hard to put certain emotions into words. You only knew you needed to phone Tae, regretting it too late, when he actually answered. ‘I'm not sure,’ you started awkwardly, ‘I guess. I just don't know where I'm going.’
‘Do you plan on leaving me anytime soon?’ Already pulling your leg, he got you to roll your eyes.
‘No, of course not. I just mean, like, metaphorically.’
Things were a bit...confusing right now.
It had been a long time since you last had to deal with emotions this strong. The voices, getting harder to ignore. You had enough outside negativity to deal with, like family and some friends, all having this certain expectation from you.
It was new for you to rebel, to be who you wanted to be and feel how you wanted to feel without consequences. Choosing a life you solely strived toward, negating the tiny voice in your head saying you were wasting time and you were running out of time and you were not enough.
‘I don't know what I want to do, Tae!’ You burst out, the build up too long, the burden too heavy. ‘I don't have plans. I have a great job, I do. But I don't want to be a PA for the rest of my life and I don't know where to start, where to look, how to choose what I want to do.
I don’t have it figured out, it hasn’t fallen onto my lap, and when I look, I feel like I’m going to waste even more time looking.’
‘Y/n, you know you have a lot more figured out than you give yourself credit for.’ The huskiness of his sleep-leaden voice, comforted you. ‘You have money, a routine stable job, you've worked you way through university and graduated with honors.’ Taehyung did it without effort and he knew you would hear his gruff tone above all others, in a crowd, in a panic, as a voice of reason.
‘I know, and I keep trying to remind myself of that, but it’s just become unbearable. I am running out of time.’ Struggling to remain composed you spoke into the phone as if he was right here, ‘What if I'm still here in ten years, Tae? What if I don't ever figure out my purpose? What if I'm meant to just work and then die? I haven't lived! I haven’t seen the world. I’ve made everyone proud and now I’m the black sheep. I prefer it, It's just-,’
The sound of keys jangling cut you off.
‘Tae,’ you asked tentatively, confusion evident.
‘Hmm.’
‘What are you doing?’ You asked when he provided no further explanation.
‘Are you in pj's right now?’
‘Uh,’ you looked down at your white vest and underwear, just to make sure, ‘yeah, why?’
‘Miss y/n, I didn't know you slept in the nude.’
The protests left you immediately at his teasing, slithering heat under your skin at the very notion. ‘Tae! I am not sleeping in the nude, I have underwear on.’
‘Uh huh, what color are they?’ Your cheeks flamed in embarrassment. You could imagine his smirk, that dumb cocky, arrogant smirk.
He laughed, the sound gruff, infuriating you more, and causing you to giggle back. Because you were the butt of the joke, and you liked his laugh too much. Trying to be mad at him, even when play-fighting or harmless bantering, Taehyung, not a chance.
‘Listen,’ a seriousness settling between you, ‘get dressed, just sweatpants, and a shirt.’
‘Wait, what, why,’
‘Baby, listen for once. Just get dressed and give me five minutes.’
You looked at the blank screen, stunned. Your brain stuck at the word baby, and the effect it had. Your insides were mush, anxiety mollified, despite not knowing what he was about to do next.
‘Babe’, you knew, ‘babe’, you understood, that was normal, routine, best friend. But Baby?
You mulled over it as you discarded your vest, and threw on a loose Celine shirt. Pulling on your black sweats, a pair of socks and air force ones because who knows what this boy was up to, you stopped. You sniffed, once, twice, yep, that was Taehyung’s body wash, but what - oh, you tugged the loose collar toward your nose, yep, this was Tae’s shirt.
You composed yourself, almost deadpan at the small realization. When had he even stripped in your room and why weren’t you there.
Wrapping your messy hair into a bun, you restrained your mind from wandering further.
Your phone beeped from the bed and the screen lit up, a message popping up. ‘Look out your window.’
Peeping out you saw his black Jeep in your driveway. He popped his head out of the driver’s side window and did a two finger salute.
Shaking your head with a smile, you grabbed your phone and made your way downstairs through the house and out the front door.
‘What are you doing here,’ you asked as soon as he came into view. He looked good, white tee, black sweatpants, you matched, except for his leather jacket and red bandana.
He opened the passenger door on your side and leaned back, giving you a once over. His lips twitched as he rested his eyes on the shirt you wore. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wanted you in his shirt. You raised your eyebrow playfully, refusing to give life to something like butterflies and heart-eyes when your best friend stood in front of you. Life was complicated enough.
‘You needed me to show up.’ He said it a matter-of-factly, but you knew he wanted to be there for you and you couldn’t, not feel grateful, and a little warm, that he would get into his car drive to you, all because you needed him to.
Not waiting for you to reply, he threw a jersey at you. ‘Its cold,’ his tone left no room for protest and he cocked his head toward the jeep, a sign to get in.
You wrapped it around you silently, not moving, not yet.
‘Well,’ his thumb curled around the top of the steering wheel as the rest of his fingers straightened out, his freehand rising to follow his question, ’Come on, get in.’
‘Where are we going?’ You would have gotten in, you would probably end up wherever he was going to take you anyway, but where was the fun in doing everything obediently. Even puppies had wild streaks.
He raised his eyebrow this time, a smirk teasing his cheek, 'You're brave every night, y/n. But not tonight, not while you're with me, come, trust me, wherever we go I'll keep you safe.'
You turned to close and lock the front door, breathing out slowly, as slow and low as you could, doing your best to work on the constriction around your heart; his words too wiry, too strong, too genuine to forget, too deep to ignore. It made you so... agreeable.
Getting into the Jeep, you felt different as you sat here now, in a seat you had been in too many times to count. It was probably the time and the circumstances. Yeah, some shifts were just because of the time, and the air and because it was silent and the dead of night.
You said nothing more, even though a few minutes earlier you spoke into the phone like you would explode if you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, you would be alone in your head, if you weren’t able to make him understand.
You jumped slightly, as you felt his hand close over yours, and pull it toward him to brush his lips along your knuckles. It was an absent action, maybe, because he stared straight ahead, didn’t spare a glance at you as you stared at the side of his head, making it look like he wasn’t even aware he was doing what he was doing.
Swallowing against the pounding of your heart, you chalked this up too. Night time was vulnerable, everyone was just a little more sensitive, you didn’t have to make it more than it needed to be.
Looking out the window you noted the lights and dark windows, empty parks and streets, doing your best to ignore the heat against your hand, the breath against your knuckles, lips not very far away, that were capable of a lot more.
With some effort, you faded out the intensity of his actions, and as your eyes adjusted you saw familiar figures, and buildings you had driven past numerous times. You knew where you were going.
He pulled up in the parking lot of his safe haven. In retrospect, your safe place should be entirely different, but you were safe with Tae, that said, his peace was where you found yours.
Jumping out of the Jeep, you noted how dark and looming the two story building looked. A huge sign reading 'Blindspot' the only posh part about this place, black metal roller doors, spray painted names across the walls, some of the neon colors standing luminescent against the moonless night.
One would think it was graffiti, but the community knew better, the ones that came and went, some that stopped and never left, knew having your name on the wall was a privilege.
He jumped out too, after grabbing something from the back. Carrying it toward you, you noted his knapsack, and a box of some sort.
Handing it over to you to hold, you took hold of them silently, as he pulled out the keys to open the locks and deadbolt.
You watched him, his actions purposeful but he was at home, knowing which way the locks turned, the catch on the bolt needing to be kicked out a certain way before opening fully; he'd done this a thousand times before.
Lifting up the shutters, the noise too loud for the silent night, he opened the door and guided you in, making you all too aware of his palm in the small of your back. Taking the stuff from your hand and throwing it onto the edge of the ring and he lifted up to close the shutters behind you.
You took notice of the extra shirt that falls out of the pile on the ring, one of your favorites of his actually, grey with black spots, sort of like a giant cookies and cream oreo mix.
The empty gym in front of you was a contrast to the busy days it had. There was a weight section, the bags lined up against the far wall hanging still, having no impact thrown at it to sway the dead weight, and the machines had their own floor upstairs, treadmills overlooking the balustrades to the floor below, by the ring where you stood.
The pool area, directly below you, in the basements where the changing rooms and showers could be found.
It looked small on the outside, but inside there were stories to be told, motivation, encouragement, brotherhood, friendships solidified in stone and a fair share of violent memories with broken bones, broken bonds and broken hearts.
Walls were packed with quotes, anatomy teachings and pictures, schedules, a dedicated to growing trophy case with medals and newspaper clippings, and pictures of staff, members, and the boss, with his best friend.
What Tae didn't continue, was the stereotype of the grunge masculine look that came with gyms. Outside may be black as night, but inside there was color everywhere - a world within.
The punching bags were each a different shade, green, red, yellow and blue. The ring bottom was black, neon orange ropes running along the sides in three consecutive lines, and your personal favorite, a giant pride flag hung on a hook outside his office door.
Toxic masculinity wasn't allowed in Taehyung's gym. You could be yourself, make your own lifestyle choices and still be a good fighter or just work-out. He took it upon himself to punch the teeth out of anyone that thought otherwise. This was what he'd always wanted to do and he made it more than just a place to get healthy.
There were four hours, two for the morning, two for the afternoon, catered only to women. Tae understood that men will be men, no matter how much you tried to change it. And comfort mattered.
Working out and exercising, as much as it seemed, like a chore, it could be enjoyable. It could be a social setting, helping people to open up, and cope, providing the best way for them to be themselves.
You helped him find a premises, helped him choose color schemes, and sat in on interviews. For legal purposes you were an advisor and owned a small share percentage. You didn't want it, but Tae insisted, you were especially grateful when the gym grew into more than you both had expected it to become.
'Y/n,' he waved his hand in front of your face, the action snapping you out of your thoughts.
'Huh, sorry, did you say something?'
He smiled comfortingly, 'Take the jacket off and your shoes.'
Scrunching your eyebrows, you finally asked, 'Tae, what are we doing here?'
'We are,' he started explaining as he ripped open a box in his hand, 'doing something I feel you need.'
Looking at you pointedly, he motioned his eyes to the jacket.
Shucking it off, you took off your shoes and redid your bun for good measure.
'It's strange isn't it,' you voiced out loud. He perked up at your food for thought, fingers fiddling with white tape. 'It's strange, that I know every corner of this place, but I haven't ever put a pair of gloves on.'
He raised his hand absently, a student raising his hand to give an answer, his gaze focused on yours as he did. 'That's because you've never had the need to, I'm here to protect you.'
Turning away, you caught yourself, before you let your heart show in your eyes. You've known Tae for so long, been his best friend for years, why now, why this feeling, this tightness in your chest.
You played it off, and walked over to him, socked feet padding against the wooden floor boards.
Taehyung clicking his tongue startled you out of your effort to feel normal; you found him staring at your socks.
'Y/n, I've told the guys this numerous times, you can't spar in the boxing section with socks. It's a slipping hazard.' No trace of the out of the blue romantic words, he bent down easily removing them from your feet one after the other.
It would be weird, if you weren't already so used to his skinship, his cuddling when he slept over, his hand straying over your shoulder on the couch, or brushing against your waist when he passed you. Yet, his thumb, on your ankle, his hand as he circled and held it, even for just the moment that he laid your foot down after taking off the sock, you felt… taken.
You wanted to snort, the wording completely off, I mean, he had a right over you, always had but-
He came into focus, looking up at you from where he sat, and asked lightly,' Do you wash these.'
Your mouth dropped open, as you watched him hold your purple socks in between two fingers, like it would bite him, or the smell would.
Your knee nudged at the side of his face playfully as you reached to pull him up. He took your socks, holding them properly now and put them in his bag, picking up the white tape he was fidgeting with earlier.
'So, will I be sparring with you today?' You were excited now. You had watched people vent and let themselves be free as they learned technique, let themselves be violent without consequences, the satisfaction on their faces after their sessions.
When he finally reaches you again he finds the catch and opens it out. White athletic tape, used to make arms and wrists stiffer, and to provide better grip, even with sweat and slick.
'No, not today. Let's focus on getting you worked up and tired. If you enjoy it, I'll gladly let you go toe to toe with me.' His eyes held a challenge, an underlying meaning evident.
Offering your hands up freely, he taped your wrists and fingers, you've seen him do it many times, just never on your wrists. Experimentally you shook out your fingers and bent and scrunched your wrist to allow for the right amount of tightness.
'Cocky, aren't you, Mr. Kim,' you side-eyed him.
He leaned into you, his breath teasing yours, 'I am the Coach here, y/n.' You blinked at the nervous fluttering in your chest, his intimidation, usually not directed so closely to you, doing something you couldn't explain, couldn't quite grasp.
Somehow, you should be scared, but it was, hot.
Leaning into him, breath for breath, you matched up, 'Then teach me.'
A slow smile broke out over his lips, playful Tae was back, it let you navigate things easier, you knew what to expect.
'So, I'm boxing the bag,' you deduced. 'I don't see why I need to tire myself out. I don't know how to do this.'
His palms closed over your cheeks, puffing your face up, emphasizing your pout. 'You are frustrated. You can't do anything about any of your emotions tomorrow, y/n. You have to be patient. You have to remind yourself it's a day at a time that gets you to your future. It will always be about patience.'
'Unfortunately, patience is overrated at something to 4am,’ you complained as he let go of your face and bent down to produce a new set of gloves from under the ring. Opening the zip of the bag, he pushed one toward you.
Shaking his head at your antics, not even phased, he strapped the gloves to both your hands and walked toward a bag. 'Come on, try it.'
'Color?'
'The yellow one.' He made to stand behind the bag you chose, and held either side of it, knees bent slightly in a defensive stance.
Feeling slightly out of place, and awkward, you huffed and punched the bag just to humor him.
You stared at it. The fucking thing didn't even move.
He burst out laughing at the comical look on your face.
'Okay, wait no,' he composed himself and came around you. His breath fanned your neck, giving you goosebumps, as he held your wrists and showed you how to punch. 'So straighten your elbow, like this, and pull it back in and see how the gloves are shaped, your forefingers curl above your thumb, so inside your glove your thumb shouldn't be in the fist.'
Nodding as you took in the new information, you did your best not to get distracted as he continued, all too comfortable in his element.
'When your wrist hits the bag don't curl it, let it face the impact head on. See, this is how you do it, so you don't break your wrist.' He made you punch the bag and showed you where your wrist was bending and how to keep it tight.
'Alright, baby,' that word, that goddamn word, 'you good to try again?'
Closing your eyes and swallowing hard, you nodded in answer and shook your head out of the Tae trance.
'Start with a simple combo this time, Jab, Jab, Uppercut, Hook.' You knew the names and their directions. Jab was straight forward, twice fast on the submissive hand as a set-up, the uppercut from downward into the abdomen or chin, depending, and the hook, from the dominant hand rounding off on the face.
'Think of it all y/n,' he encouraged, as he walked to his original position, 'the people, the words, the expectations, the beating up of yourself you do on a daily basis, and just go for it.'
Spreading your legs in a stance, aiming at the bag on his command, you clenched your fists and focused.
'Go'
----
'And breathe.'
Breathing heavily you fell flat to the floor, and stared up at the ceiling.
Sweat was in your eyes and your hair, but despite being in dire need of a shower, you felt oddly at ease. Tiny zings of exertion shot through your body as your lungs begged for air and you heard your blood rushing.
The roof was really pretty you thought, the wood positioned in long blocks to form and hold up the gable, grabbing your attention for the first time ever.
You blinked as Tae's face came into view, his hands resting on his knees.
He smirked cutely as he brushed your sweat slicked hair out of your eyes and off your face before reaching down to pick you up off the floor.
Handing you a water bottle, you let him manhandle you as he lifted your form to sit on the edge of the ring, launching himself up to sit next to, a second later.
'How do you feel?' He was proud of himself no doubt, after all, his plan did succeed.
You made a face at him, anyway.
'Hey,' he put both his hands up in mock surrender. 'It worked, didn't it.'
You cut him some slack, this time. 'Yeah, I feel icky, but definitely less worked up.'
---------
🎶 - Black Swan - BTS
TAE
Taking a swig of the water you had opened in your hand, he looks at the top of your head as he closes it and puts it away.
'Hey.'
She looks up at him, eyes hooded in exhaustion.
He smiles at her. Despite how much he loved her spitfire, she's adorable when she's not talking back.
He knew of the thoughts that crawled up her spine on a daily basis. He knew she had no plan, and it made her hyper that she didn't have one, but she couldn't make one because, what if she chose wrong.
He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to tell her that she could be whatever she wanted to be, and he would fly her across the ocean if she really wanted it; that she didn't need to worry about life so much because he would always take care of her.
'You're too sad.'
She scrunched her eyebrows at him.
'You have the whole weight of the world on your shoulders and you can't do anything about it.' He chose his next words carefully. 'I wish you could take a breather, and let a thought be a thought instead of picking it apart.'
He held up his hand to her when she made to protest.
'You know, things may not feel okay right now, with work, or at home, and in your head. But I've never seen someone adapt like you have. You bounce back, despite how much grit it takes.'
He took the gloves off her hand and carefully unwinded the tape on her fingers.
'I don't have answers y/n. But I do know you have me for a long time and I'm going to be here as you do your thing.'
Placing pressure on each finger he massaged the tightness out of it and flexed it for her.
'I don't know where you're supposed to go, if you were meant to leave and give me a round-the-world heartbreak, I'm not sure who you're supposed to be, I don't even know if you have a higher purpose, it wouldn't surprise me if you did, but you, y/n,' he heaved a sigh as he faced her, his gaze meeting hers, his next words the most important thing she'd need to remember,' you're a good you.'
As he met her eyes, her breath hitched. He heard it. He could see the flush in her face. He knew he was being honest. He knew he meant every word.
A half smile, a heavy acceptance, hands that were so easy to hold, eyes that were never anything but honest, a bond that all but forced a person to keep swimming. That was Taehyung to y/n. And that was y/n to Taehyung.
'You're a really, good you,' he reinforced. 'Right now, it works. I have a feeling it will work for a very long time.'
'I'm scared.' He could hear it in her voice. He heard it back when she was in her room too.
'Nothing is really set in stone, babe. And even though it does feel like you're running out of time, it's something you can't help. It's not what you want to hear but it's true.'
'How do I stop being sad?'
She was deflecting. But he had said it before, it wouldn't be gone tomorrow. Her anxiety and her fears, they will probably never go away.
She had the right way to go about it though. You get through it. Somehow. Some days it's a good cry, some days it's with a punching bag, and some days, it was with a best friend.
'See, now that's why you have me.' He answered confidently, as he put his chest out, his need to have her be okay, her smile, her laugh, his only intentions, his favorite thing these days.
'Oh really, you, why, because you're a clown.'
He feigned offense at the statement. 'Excuse me, I am not a clown, ask anyone that comes in for the 5am rush.'
She looked up at the clock in shock, it was really going half-four. She turned back to him sadly, 'I kept you up all night.'
'It was a fun night,' he replied, the teasing of many other ways to keep him up on the tip of this tongue, deciding against it, he looked away from her. 'You needed me, no amount of sleep is worth that.'
He didn't explain himself, he really didn't mind the lack of sleep. He could easily catch a nap in his office, or head home after half a day. But this, this moment with his best friend, that he wanted to be more, he knew he wouldn't choose to be anywhere else. He knew he'd do it over again too.
Pushing off the ring he grabbed the knapsack and handed her his shirt. 'Change out of that shirt, and use this one, you'll catch a cold, because of the sweat. And let's get you home, you need a hot shower, and sleep. I'll drop by for dinner after work too.'
Finally turning to her, he found she hadn't moved an inch, unshed tears in her eyes. Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her toward him, sweat and all, and held her in his arms. 'You're first y/n, you'll always be first.'
A tender kiss on her head, his words rendering her speechless, and he knew uncharted waters were on the horizon.
This night, things that he'd said, the ways in which she responded, it was going to shift things for them.
But silence was comfortable for them. And she drank his share of coffee while he ate her share of pineapple, because he couldn't stand coffee and she hated pineapple. And he could hold her in his arms and she'd use his shirt while they slept.
It would start small, but he'd show her, the future was bright, she was deserving of more than she understood, she would be protected from her family and expectations and she would learn to remember, purpose or no purpose she wasn't alone, she never would be again.
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jacjac248 · 1 year ago
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Let Me In
“I crave love but I am too scared to let anyone in. No one really knows me, I won’t let them. They only know what I want them to know. They don’t know how I truly think and feel. I keep them at a safe distance. Where they won’t hurt me. The idea of us is only hypothetical. It can only be hypothetical. Where it is a perfect relationship where no one gets hurt. 
That’s why I watch edits of couples on youtube or read fanfiction because they usually only show the caring and loving parts. If things get too sad or realistic I can just turn it off and find another happy fictional story. To indulge in my fantasy of what I want in life. Why should I change my actions for you? Why should I risk the agony and pain for the possibility of us?”
“I can-” 
“I’m waiting to hear all the things I don’t like about myself, all the struggles I face to be explanations for why the idea of us can’t happen. I don’t want to hear it, I won’t be able to take it. I’ll crumble. I’ll fall. It will take too long to put me back together. You’ll get tired, you’ll walk away. Leave me behind. I won’t do it. I’ll keep pretending that I’m fine being alone because it is worth the pain than feeling the heartbreak of our demise. The things that you love about me now will become the reasons for you leaving in the future. Maybe this is what my life is supposed to be. Lonely. Maybe this is how I reach my greatest potential. Who knows?”
“Will you stop and listen for a moment? I don’t think you understand that I want to be there for you. I want to be that person that catches you when you fall and helps you put yourself back together. No matter how long it takes because you are worth waiting for. Even if you are not the same person after the fall, I’ll still want to be with you. I want to be that person you go to when things are too much when the world is too crazy and you need peace. But you have to let me in first. I want to know you more, I want to see the good, bad and the ugly. Whatever you think will drive or scare me away, it won’t. Before you start again how we are destined to fall through” 
“We are-”
“Nothing is absolute but if you take it one step at a time we can face whatever problems together and get through them. Don’t waste time on hypotheticals, no relationship is perfect, we are going to have issues and fights because that is how relationships are. The important part is how we respond to them. I know you are scared, and so am I. We’ll figure it out together. I want to be with you but you have to meet me halfway. You have to give us the space to try. If you don’t nothing will ever work with me or someone else.”
“This is a lot, I need time to figure it out. Give me time”
“I’ll give you time but I’ll come back. I’ll always come back for you”
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thisdreamplace · 2 years ago
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i’m the laser hair removal anon. that would be a cool anon name LMAO. i can’t say this must be it about the laser hair removal, because it’s not. 😭😭😭 i do not have enough money to pay for the rest of the pay afterwards. i can’t do it bc i can’t pay the monthly fee afterwards. and the reason i say that about the job is because that is nowhere near what would have me at peace in my life. at least not the jobs im being forced into. and even then, i have applied to multiple jobs. it’s not me being crazy but it’s me being real as in, girl i’ve did everything i could in the 3d so idk if it’s going to work but we’re going for it. like i don want to lie to myself, idk what’s going on rn, even if it is my life. 💀 i just know i have a vision i go towards and i keep going regardless of the bs but it is tiring. and it’s cool that you and other people can see the good in their life. but sometimes people have a life where everything truly is falling before them so i also can’t be one of those people to say “oh i see the love in life”. i don’t think everyone will feel that is the way to go for them. idk. ig i still need to find out what will actually pull shit together for me. thank you so much for allowing a space for venting. i was literally blowing up on the inside. 💀
i am so sorry i misinterpreted and misunderstood you so much in ur ask !! omg. i truly and deeply apologize. i’m sorry if it came off like i was minimizing anything you shared at all. thank you for feeling this is a safe place to rant, and i’m glad you got it out. <3
i do want to mention that, i truly hope it doesnt come off that everything is so easy for me and has always flowed so easily in my life. its extremely important to be that i am transparent and honest on this blog and true to my journey. i’ve never tried to make it seem like everything has been great and easy. ever since learning the law, i have seen some of my most darkest days with my mental health as well as have watched my life crumble to rock bottom several times. the only reason i am where i am now is because it finally became too painful to keep enduring. so i let go, and chose to shift my perspective even though life gave me no reason to do so. i always want to be honest about what i’ve gone through, so that i may reach people who feel alone when the journey isn’t as smooth as they thought it would be. thats v important to me. and of course, i can only express myself and help others from my lived experience. and it may not be for everyone, but i can only stay authentic to my truth.
i truly hope you find your way, whatever it may be ! of course, this life is a journey and eventually you’ll find yourself more in tune with what works for you. <3
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gofancyninjaworld · 3 years ago
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Garou and the futility of heroism
.With much thanks to @the-nysh for the conversation.  I thought of making this longer and more detailed, but I know myself: it’ll turn into one of those drafts that hangs around for years.
 I've recently been reading the Epic of Gilgamesh as a part of reducing my terrible ignorance of the foundations of Western literature.  Cracking good yarn, highly recommended, but I’m not here to talk literature. The latter half of the story is dominated by Gilgamesh’s struggle against the idea that he was inevitably going to die.
Where this relates to Garou is not that he’s railing against the inevitability of death and the reality that everything built up over a life will crumble to dust.  What Garou is struggling against is the seeming futility of heroism.
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His specific approach is all sorts of bad, but the reality he's struggling against is something brought up repeatedly in One-Punch Man.  One of the *big* themes in One-Punch Man is critically examining what a hero is actually good *for*.  No matter how diligent a hero is, no matter how strong they are, the world's evils do not disappear. 
It's very outrageous and painful to acknowledge how small and fleeting one's efforts are in the grand scheme of things. 
The moment we get a look into Saitama’s thoughts, it’s the very first thing he leads with.  Literally the very first sentence of his thinking.
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Saitama might be the strongest hero ever, able to defeat anything in one punch.  Not only has the world not become a better place as a result of his actions, but the very neighbourhood he lives in has become depopulated as it’s become too dangerous to live there.  In its own way, having birdsong be the loudest sound in the morning is its own rebuke to Saitama’s ambitions of helping people.
Watchdogman is the most diligent hero ever, with a perfect monster elimination record.  And yet, City Q is as monster-infested as ever.  Should anything happen to him, it will be as if he never existed for all the good his previous efforts will have done its inhabitants.
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however diligently he sits, the pedestal he’s on will crumble the moment he cannot do his job any longer.
 And that’s just talking about monsters.  There are a lot of very bad people in OPM world and not just of the cackling mad scientist variety, although it’s got plenty of those too.
The world of One-Punch Man also has evils driven by factors that are far too big for any hero by their action to stop.  Problems best addressed at the political or economic level aren’t going to be solved with a punch.
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Even when the evil appears to be tied up with a single person, like the Ninja Village was established by That Man, getting rid of them doesn’t necessarily change affairs.  The Village stole the freedoms and lives of boys for a good fifteen years after Blast defeated That Man.  It was still too profitable to *not* do.
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when you think about it, crime must really pay in One-Punch Man!
Even when you say you’re going to do something simple and heroic, like save a single child from the clutches of a monster... what do you mean by ‘saved’, exactly?  How brutally difficult it is to save even a single person, how easily it is that your best efforts to be turned to naught by an adverse event, like springing a rabbit from a trap only to have it swooped up by a hawk, is fully on display this arc. 
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so many heroes’ efforts and yet Waganma went almost nowhere...truly like fetching water out of a river with a basket!
Other than Saitama, we see so many other heroes struggle with the reality of how little they can change things in the long term.  Very notable is the conversation that Snek has with Suiryu, where Suiryu challenges Snek to justify why he bothers being a hero at all? “No matter how hard you try, it’s just drops of water on burning rocks,”  Suiryu says, something done for self-satisfaction rather than because it actually creates meaningful change.   Snek’s thoughts mirror Suiryu’s as he considers whether heroes are actually necessary at all.
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Let’s bring it back to Garou.  Garou’s Very Bad No Good Plan to Avoid Heroic Heartbreak he laid out in chapter 41.  Quite simply, heroes always have to wait for bad things to happen and then react to punish the evildoers and/or save people. 
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I love how long this guy is...um, sorry I was supposed to be typing something insightful here
But what if it was possible to take the initiative instead, like a monster does?  What if people could stop wanting to be bad and monsters could stop wanting to attack people?  That’s where the Human Monster was born, the quest to create a persona so strong that no one could oppose it, and so senselessly evil that no one dared to do anything that attracted its attention.
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punishing the good and evil alike, don’t make him come your way if you know what’s good for you.
I see a lot of readers read superficially, misunderstand and think Garou is punishing heroes in some way. That heroes are bad in some way.  Nothing like that: he attacks heroes because they’re good and devote their lives to protecting people.  After all, only a total monster would do that.  Also, if even the strongest heroes aren’t safe, what hope have the regular people of this world?
All throughout the arc, that Garou doesn’t actually want to be a monster at heart is clear to every actual monster.  It’s clear to us as we see his interactions with Tareo.  It’s clear to him himself as he tries to steel himself to take a life just to prove to himself that he can (thankfully it’s Saitama he tries to kill). 
It’s what makes Saitama’s bullshit-cutting words as cutting as they are.   Ultimately, his trying to scare the world into being good is his way of running away from the tough, heart-breaking work of being a hero.
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there is a crazy confidence a hero needs to embody in order to step up, as if by doing so they can do something
The pathos that we can empathise with is that it’s hard to look on a world as messed up as theirs is and not feel that surely, surely there’s something more that one can do.  Garou’s struggle is absolutely legitimate.   However... I’m going to let the however hang a moment...
It’s childish thinking to frame heroism in terms of strength and it’s not much better to frame it in terms of being of exceptional virtuousness.  What a hero is, according to ONE, is someone who can look honestly at the cruelty and randomness of the world, who can acknowledge frankly the fleeting nature of any good they can do, feel the pain of this reality fully.   And then choose to reach a hand out to help anyway.  
In a world where feeling helpless in the face of impossibly large and complex problems feels inevitable, cynicism is too ready a refuge, and just looking out for yourself is common sense, the mere act of reaching that hand out is an act of courage.
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not with illusions of good triumphing over evil, but the dogged determination to do the right thing even if the world burns down.  That’s what being a hero is about.
However...
...the way Garou worked out his inner conflict was not legitimate.  He picked the worst possible way at the worst possible time to wrestle with it. Which I think goes to a second theme: that your feelings may be valid.  But that does not mean that every action that follows from those feelings is valid.  Garou hurt a lot of good people and impeded their vital work at a time the world could ill-afford it.
One of the joys of fiction is that not only do characters act for reasons that make sense, but we get to hear and understand *why*. And at the same time, the external actions they take on the world persist. I’m very happy too that ONE isn’t glossing over the consequences of Garou’s actions.  Too many readers pick one or the other and lose half the joy.   
Thankfully, ONE isn’t a half-ass.
It doesn’t become okay for the heroes that Garou attacked that they were assaulted.  It doesn’t become okay for the world that so many people were needlessly deprived of heroes when they needed them most.  And it isn’t okay for Garou that he’s made an outlaw of himself as a result of his actions.   The ramifications on both personal and societal are going to be explored for the individuals involved.  I bless ONE for his conscientiousness and for creating so many excellent characters that make the enterprise worth the candle.
What kind of hero Garou will decide to be and how he’ll make it work in practice, ah that we’re waiting to see.
Coda:
Of course, that’s not the whole story.  There’s one other part.  Occasionally, by being the right person willing and able to step up in the right way at the right time, a hero can change *everything*.
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