#grasp on how heavy those words are for other people and why they don't want to hear that/be called that

[valeechtine]

Having a realization but I like. Cannot think of a way to post this and phrase it in a way that won't IMMEDIATELY make people jump me

#its nothing like. Nefarious I promise. I don't think my beloved mutuals would getmy ass for this #I've simply found that like. Most of the people I've known who would call other people slurs w/out asking in the name of 'reclamation' #were neets who didnt leave their houses and/or had almost no irl socialization so its like. #I feel like their casualness with calling other people slurs with no warning or prior confirmation that thats ok #Like. Deffo came from a lack of having those actually used against them irl which is a Terrifying experience #and like obvi I'm not saying you HAVE to have been called a slur AND irl to reclaim things but like. I think that explains the lack of #grasp on how heavy those words are for other people and why they don't want to hear that/be called that #again this is also abt people from my past so this isn't a vague for my mutuals who do reclaim stuff again idc if you do #and idc if someone is a neet I'm just like. Connecting dots from my personal experiences #of being called slurs by other queer people when I am very much Not ok with that #and how one of them implied I was being Regressive for not wanting to be called the f slur #chittering

[aphroditestempleimagines]

That fool

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Reader - 18+

Words: 3943

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk reader, Geto is a teddy bear gojo is the mean one change my mind, sex (i promise geto is NOT a dick), fingering, bit of oral sex (fem!receiving), LOTS OF ANGST, name calling (princess) but just a bit

Summary: Your engagement to the heir to the Gojo clan has been arranged since you were young. Yet you can't help but realize that Satoru himself does not seem to care, neither about duty nor about you. As you try to drown your sorrow, you bump into your old, now criminal, friend.

Colour: Hot, Forbidden and very angsty

His love series - part 1

Author's note: idk why i wrote this when i'm a gojo simp, i'm in class and i'm bored. Also I'm gonna attempt a mixed pov.

"Is that what you wanted to discuss with me?", the man asked.

"You must understand", Geto responded, "It is the only way to truly eradicate evil from this world"

"It is aggressive and extreme and I will not be a part of it"

The man stood up. The short glass of whiskey fell down as he bumped the table.

"You yourself stood up against the monkey who hurt your son", Geto maintained his calm composure despite the man's reaction to his proposition.

"That was...different", the man uttered behind his teeth.

Geto smiled at the guy's clenched fists. He picked himself up and threw his arm over the man's shoulder. "All I'm saying is", he said firmly, "We keep losing our people to protect a lesser species who is, not just not thankful, but oppressive and prejudiced against us". He leaned in, anger brimming from his eyes. "How is that fair?"

The man lowered his head. Geto raised his gaze for just a second, out of habit. His eyes fell on your figure, lone and ridden with sadness, as you sat at the bar at the other end of the room. His first instinct was to run away; he would have, if you had not raised your hand to order another drink, directly from the young bartender. He leaned back to his potential associate, giving him a warm smile.

"You don't have to decide right away", he told him, "As long as we both keep this meeting confidential you can think on your answer for however long you'd like"

The man's fingers had not stopped fidgeting until Geto gave that small reasurement. A smile of relief adorned his face, yet some stress still remained in his eyes as he nodded and stumbled out of the establishment.

Geto focused his sights on you; your reddened eyes, your slumped form, your unquenchable thirst for liquor. Normally, he would not dream of talking to you again, not after he left Jujutsu High. He had to put everything behind him to move on with his goal. And though he remembered that fateful day he ran away from the crudity of the sorcerers' world as one of the brightest in his life, the thought of your tears and the memory of Gojo's calls were a constant anguish to him even to this day. And there they were, those tears he had feared, even though unspilled they remained so evident behind your tired eyes.

He approached. His legs brought him to you faster than his mind could object. His heart thanked them for it, but still broke a little at the sight of your startled face.

"Fancy meeting you here princess", he pretended to smile. It was quite easy since a part of him rejoiced at the reunion, even though in such saddening circumstances.

"What...ar you doin 'ere?", you slurred your words. You had not realized how heavy your head was until you tried to lift it up. You clutched your forehead. Your heart tightened. The stool was falling backwards. Your hands reached for the counter but it was no use; you could not reach it anymore. Your back hit something hard but it was not the floor. Geto's hands were on your arms as your head rested on his kimono-clothed chest.

"I think you've had enough", he said.

"Let me go!", you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, forgetting for a second that he was the only pillar keeping you from falling. Fortunately, his hold was quite strong. He released you only after he restored the stool to its proper position.

Geto's gaze scanned the room; it was full of them monkeys. He often said there were two kinds of them: money-collecting monkeys and curse-collecting monkeys. But when faced with a lonely drunken soul there came a third kind, the most vile of them all.

"That's it", he said as the hungry gazes collected on your form, "I'm taking you home. Where do you live?"

"I'm not telling you where I live, Geto"

"Is it still at the apartment in Shinjuku?"

Your face turned red. You had gotten that house during the last year of school so it would be quicker to attend emergencies in Tokyo. He and everyone else had helped you move in and you had not moved out since then. "y...yes", you whispered.

Geto was quick to guide your hand around his waist, throwing his around your form. "Just grab on to me", he said plainly, almost in annoyance, "Tell me if you can't walk anymore".

"I can do this by myself", you objected.

"You don't have to", he said, his gaze focused on the darkness surrounding you.

You did not speak as you walked, nor did you speak as you boarded the train from Roppongi Station. He held you close as you walked through the crowded tunnels to change lines in Shinjuku. His outdated attire did not draw nearly as much attention as your hazed gaze and reddened cheeks. You covered your face with your hand and buried your nose in Geto's robes.

"We're almost there", his grip tightened reassuringly around you.

You finally reached your apartment building. Your hands fumbled around inside your purse until they gripped the keys. He helped you open the lock and soon you were in the safety and comfort of your home. Geto stood at the doorway, not moving a step in as you took out your shoes and fell onto the couch. Everything was exactly the same as it was back then. Apart from a few minor items that were replaced after the times wore them down, nothing else had changed. He had not been there since that year. That year that had been the worst of his life. He could still remember Haibara helping out to set up the table, just as he could recall your beautiful smile as you and Shoko chatted while hanging all of the paintings that decorated the walls. Both images made his heart ache. He had not felt any remorse about his decision in years, yet there he was, being pulled in two different directions like he was in those days. And all it took, was one visit.

"Why are you just standing there?", your voice disperced his thoughts. You were rubbing your eyes with your hand. "Just come in", you told him.

He almost did not. He almost ran away back to the temple he had sought refuge in. Perhaps he should have. You were safe now. The only danger to you was he himself. Yet his curiosity won him over. He took off his sandals and went to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water, and him a bottle of sake. He sat on the couch next to you as you gratefully gulped down the refreshment you craved. You left the glass on the table and fell back on the pillows of the couch. He was overcome with the temptation - no, the need - to caress your heavy head as your messy locks fell upon your face. It took all his restraint not to.

"I can't do this anymore", you said. He had not asked a question, but he guessed you were drunk enough to wallow in your own pity.

"Exorcising?", he asked.

"No", you responded, "I know you probably wanted a different answer but...it's what I know how to do. So I'll do it"

Those words poured blood in Geto's clenched fists. That was exactly what Haibara used to say. He knew Gojo was far too strong, and perhaps even far too selfish, to share the same fate as he. But you? You, Shoko, Nanami were among the people he wanted to protect from the foolishness of the life as a jujutsu sorcerer.

"I never thought I would want him to love me. I know he never will", you continued murmuring.

You did not have to explain. This was about Gojo. Ever since High School he knew the two of you were arranged by his clan to be married one day. Gojo took no interest in the idea back then. He thought himself far too young for it. But after all these years was he continuing the same immaturity?

He could not be mad at him. He would never truly be mad at Gojo. He often wondered if he was ever mad at him but the opposite was never going to be true. And yet your tears felt as if they were his own. Your broken heart crumbled onto his hands and he fully knew that if he was the one to hold it initially he would not had dared cause such damage.

"I know at the end of the day it does not matter", you said, "But...it feels like...he's fine by himself. I can never stand at his side and neither would he ever want me to. And I just feel so...alone"

Geto knew that feeling well. He poured himself another glass of sake and gobbled it down.

"No one would care if I disappeared"

"I would", Geto stated. The words slipped his mouth. He looked at you. You had lifted your gaze. It fell troubled onto his face. He cupped your cheek and leaned towards you. His thumb brushed away your tears. "I would", he said again with even more determination. If he could not take the words back he would make sure you understood them. He would make sure you never felt the way he did back then.

You grabbed his kimono and pulled him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and desperate but at the same time everything you needed. He hesitated to put his hand on your waist, but he was already reciprocating the kiss. He felt your tears wet his calloused hand and he knew he was nothing more than a replacement. He did not know what you were to him exactly, what you were definitely seared onto his heart. And as he devoured your cherry lips he got even more drunk on the nectar of your kiss; he would have never guessed he could have such an alternative to the curses he forced himself to swallow.

"You're not thinking straight", he breathed against your face as you climbed on top of him.

"I know", you responded, "I simply don't care"

He held you close and kissed you again. His hands traveled up and down your form. The last notes of your perfume enveloped him. He thought of your smile, one of the few things that gave him true joy during his dark days. You both loved Satoru but Satoru was determined to prove he was better off alone. Would he hurt him if he slept with you? A part of him wanted to, wanted to get revenge for staying true to the jujutsu world, for making you cry, for everything. And a part of him could not. But he could not push you away either. He could not be the cause of more tears. He could not be the reason you did not find your smile again. And most of all, he could not cool down the feverish heat that overwhelmed him as your body pressed against his.

"Suguru...", you murmured above his lips.

That was it. He could not take it anymore. He flipped your bodies so that your back hit the couch cushions. He nibbled your neck as his hand hiked up your black dress until it was scrunched over your hips. His thumb pressed on your bud over your panties and traced small rough circles. He tried to pull the neckline of your dress down but he just could not stretch it down enough. In a swift move, he reached for the hem around your waist, pulled the dress over your head and threw it on the floor.

Your body trembled at the sudden chill. You reached for his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss, your hands undoing his long black hair. His locks fell on the sides like a curtain.

He was kissing your chest. His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and glided over your clit. Your hands got tangled in his hair as he pressed one of them past your lower lips.

"Always the idiot", Geto murmured as he kissed you between your breasts, "He'll never change".

Your body trembled as he dexterously thrusted his digits inside you. Your hands blindly searched for the tie of his belt. Geto used his free hand to pull open his robes until he could shake them off his shoulders and let them hang from his waist. You traced the faded scar on his firm chest. He placed his hand over yours and brought your palm to his lips for a gentle kiss. He kept your hand close to his cheek, relishing its touch with closed eyes.

"Don't ever say things like that about yourself again", he said firmly, "You're the best our world has to offer"

A few tears escaped your eyes. Geto noticed and kissed them away before adding a peck on the bridge of your nose. He moved his fingers more meticulously as you climbed in ecstasy. Your heaving breath exploded against his face, his eyes blazingly observing your heated expression. The spring of the coil was being twisted more and more by the minute. He gave you a quick kiss, hiked your leg over his bare shoulder and pressed his mouth against your clit. You moaned his name out loud before you came on his fingers. A subtle smile formed on your lips, pure and simple. Suguru could relish that smile for all eternity.

He climbed back up until he towered over your body. Your arms wrapped around his torso as he kissed you deeply. You were so beautiful; even more than he could remember.

"Suguru", your name left his lips again.

"I never realised how much I missed hearing you say my name"

Your hands reached for his belt again. "I want you"

"Not as much as I do", he aided you in undoing it. He threw his robes next to your dress. He gave you small kisses as his dressed length pressed on your entrance. "Tell me if it hurts".

You fisted his hair as he entered you. You did not stop him until he had bottomed out. He continued kissing you reassuringly, one hand massaging your tailbone, the other holding your leg around his hips. He was kissing your neck now, waiting for you to catch your breath.

"Don't be nice to me", you told him, "I don't want you to be nice to me"

He laughed. "Yes, you do", he lightly nipped at your collarbone, "And you always get what you want"

Soon the room was filled with your sounds of pleasure as Suguru's hips met yours in a passionate dance, tuned to an intoxicated melody. His cheeks had grown hot; yours had too.

"You're so beautiful", he breathed. There was a battle going on in his mind. He had loved a lot of people. He kept a list in his mind of those he wanted to protect, those he wanted for sure to be in his new world. You, Gojo, Nanami, Shoko...He loved all of them equally; or almost. You and Gojo were always a little higher on the ranks. But this? This was a new you he was seeing for the very first time and he was intoxicated. All the have-nots and could have been in his head were suddenly turning into a plausible reality. If only he could keep you with him. If only he could have you by his side, every day he woke up. He had chosen to leave so he would not burden any of his friends with the cruelty of his mission, but the prospect of the happiness he would gain by just gazing upon your face every day was too tempting to pass.

Yet there was another thought trying to force its way into his mind. 'If I could become Satoru Gojo for a moment, the dream would be achievable'. He was hurting him by being with you. He had taken one of the many things bestowed upon that man that he ungratefully scorned. And as much as it pained him to cause Gojo anguish, a part of him thought of it as well-deserved for his foolishness. Maybe he would finally mature and appreciate everything he had been given.

"Suguru!", your moan pulled him back into reality.

He held your sweated cheek. "Come for me, princess", he said and lowered his voice and lips close to your ear, "If you want to use your legs tomorrow that is"

Your hands gripped his hair again. Your walls clenched around his length. He grunted as he felt them squeeze him. "Two can play this game, princess", his hand rubbed fiercely on your bud.

Your breathing turned irregular. Your vision turned hazy. All there was was him and nothing else. Your thoughts were overcome with the knot in your stomach, threatening to break any minute.

Your head fell back as you came with a loud moan of his name. He followed soon after. You could feel his tired breath explode on the skin of your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder. You brushed his hair with your fingers. He planted soft kisses under your hairline. He sat up for a moment to put on his boxers, burning the condom into nothingness with a spell. He pulled your tired body against his as he lay on the couch, his arms wrapping around you.

"Y/n", he called your name softly.

"Hm?", your ear was pressed on his bare chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

He cupped your cheek to guide your gaze to him. He wore a genuine smile for the first time in years as he caressed your face. You could not help but return it. He planted a kiss on your forehead, his hand diving under your locks.

"No one deserves your tears", his low voice whispered next to your ear, "But if you have to spill them, let them be mine"

He picked up his robe and threw it over your bodies like a blanket as you drifted off to sleep.

*****************************************************************************

When morning came, Geto woke up alone. Y/n's warmth still lingered over his body as he blindly searched for her with his sleepy eyes. His ears finally focused on the sound of running water. He smiled. They had not taken a shower last night so it was only logical she would do it first thing in the morning. He sat up on the couch, pulling his robe properly around his body. His gaze ran around the small apartment. Memories of your life were carefully placed all over the walls, the counters, the tables. He walked up to a dresser at the back of the room, probably storing all the linen needed in the living room-dining room fusion. Two photographs were placed on it; one with your class and Nanami's class, happily drinking together at Shoko's birthday party. The other one was with you and Gojo; smiles much subtler as you posed for an engagement picture.

Gojo's glasses were different than the ones Geto remembered. It must have been a more recent picture. He smiled as he admired your beautiful face, all dolled up for the photo. Then his eyes fell on Satoru again. His face turned serious. He missed him, that was sure. But he had grown accustomed to hating him, knowing he was probably hated back. He had grown accustomed to blaming him, knowing he was being blamed back.

He looked more carefully at his glasses. He could just see the shiny blue of his eyes underneath. His own eyes opened wide. Gojo's gaze was on you. The smile he wore was not fake at all; Geto would have recognized it. It was clear as day he had feelings for you. Yet you were not lying about your broken heart either. His eyes watered. He had thought he would be happy hurting Gojo's pride, but his heart was too much. He left the picture on the dresser and walked to your bedroom. He knocked on the door. Your voice called him in. One look at you and he lost all the words he wanted to say. He wanted to stay with you. But doing that would hurt Gojo. And if he chose to leave and spare Gojo from further pain, he would strike your heart at a moment when it was already bleeding.

"Last night", you drew his attention, "It was a mistake"

Those words were a knife through his chest. You kept your back turned on him as you lazily dried your hair with a towel.

"I wasn't thinking straight"

"You said you didn't care"

"I was wrong", you told him.

Suguru walked towards you. "You were not. I...I missed you"

"Don't lie to me. You just wanted to get back at Gojo for once", you spat. You cursed your lips the moment the words left your mouth. Suguru remained silent. "You won't even deny it?", you asked, "Geto"

"Suguru", he corrected. You sat there in silece for a moment. "Y/n", he finally spoke, "Look at me"

You shook your head.

"Please", he said again, "Look at me"

You slowly turned to face him. He had known he had guessed it right. The tears were back to flowing from your eyes, and this time he was the cause. He had made the wrong choice. All he had wanted was to bring you to smile.

"What brought this on?", he asked calmly.

His face was as it had been in your school days; calm, composed...kind. You could not help but answer him, even though it would be an unpleasant thing to do so. You reached for the small radio next to your bed and turned it back on to the station you had been listening to. You waited for a while before the newsman returned after the break and continued with more details on the newest strange mass attack on humans that took place in Tokyo the night before.

"That was your friends, right?", you said, your lips trembling even though you knew the answer.

"Yes", he said, "There was a cult forming with knowledge of our kind. I had to eliminate them"

"Do you hear yourself?", you cried as you shot up on your feet, "What did these people even do?"

"It's not what they did, it's what they most likely would have done"

"Get out", you spat. Your voice cracked as you repeated those words again and again.

Suguru did not move. "I will", he said, "But I want you to know, I've never said a single lie to you. And I never will"

You were covering your face with your hands as you cried and so you neither heard nor saw him approach. You startled as he placed a soft kiss on your head.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, "It was never my intention to cause you pain".

"That hardly matters"

"I know", he said. "I know", he repeated it one more time as he touched his forehead to yours.

He turned to leave but stopped right before your door. "If you see Satoru", he said, "Slap him for me. Then kiss him for you".

"What?"

"He's so immature, you need to slap him back to his senses. Or he'll be too late again"

And with that, Suguru returned to the shadows of Tokyo, far away from the light he had found in the small apartment with you.

#geto suguru #suguru geto #geto x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #getou suguru x reader #jjk suguru #jjk angst #geto #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru x you #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #suguru geto smut

[romanoffsbish]

I Still Can’t Fucking Breathe…

WandaNat x Fem!Reader

I Can’t Breathe

Requested 🥺 | Avoid this fic if you know you won’t fair well with “vivid” imagery

Warnings: Heavy on the past Self Harm/Current Temptations(Indulgences—ED/Physical stimuli—Cold Bath), Blood, Overall Numbness, Ideation. Ends happy, and this one shows the Reader saving themselves a bit 🥹 | 3,082 Words

Numb—A state of mind that is all consuming. Feeling anything at all is next to impossible. The thing about it too, is that it never goes away; it can be dulled, buried even, but in the silence it always finds a way to creep back in.

—————

For almost two years now you'd managed to evade its cold grasp, but after the fight you had with your girlfriends, and their disappearance immediately after for a month long mission, you find yourself back where you'd started. Thoughts of how the world would be brighter without you consume your mind whenever you have the energy to think, and when you don't all you can do is stare mindlessly at the door.

Everyday you lose more of your fight to stay, the lack of Natasha's comforting humming to put you to sleep has left you perpetually tired, and without Wanda's cooking you're starving. Pathetic is all you feel at the prospect of not being able to even exist without them here; it accompanies the numb well, because you cycle between fits of sobs, and dissociative episodes.

Two weeks of mindlessly existing went by in a blur, everyday you spent even more time in the bed, in unchanged clothes that reeked of musk. Trudging down the stairs had become a chore, one that seemed unnecessary when you knew the women you loved weren't coming back yet.

Your mind cruelly reminds you that it might even be permanent, flashes of their faces full of disappointment plague your mind all day long.

It's funny really—if only you could laugh...

You honestly can't remember why the three of you fought at all, it's all irrelevant now though. Nothing matters, no rational thought process is going to bring you out of your current spiral. Finding a cause for it will have no effect here... Natasha and Wanda's return is the only way you see this coming to an end, well, you also envision other ways but those come with a permanence that you're honestly unsure of.

Death has been a potential occurrence that you'd welcomed since your early adolescence. Memories of lying awake while your parents fought over God knows what echo in your mind as you ironically lay in this bed in total silence. A childhood spent fighting to survive breeding an adulthood where said concept was all but played out. Fighting everyday just to reach the end of your youth to find it doesn't get better. All you do now is scrape by with more burdens.

However, every time you feel those burdens weighing you down you remember that you had two people who were rooting for you to push back. Even with your doubts on if they still want you or not, a tiny part of you still holds onto hope that they do, and that's all that seems to be keeping you from the edge.

It'd been an entire sixteen hours since you last left your bed, every muscle in your body ached as you failed to utilize them, and there was also this really intense pressure on your bladder. Still, you generally found yourself unmoving, but then the air kicked on and you were aware of the stench you were apparently exuding.

Shockingly enough you were repulsed so badly by your own stench that you now found yourself standing still in the bathroom while the tap runs freezing cold water into the tub. Your lovers paid the bills, but in your mind you were undeserving of the hot water they funded. Cold water was a punishment you were worthy of, and so you entered the tub without a shiver; you didn't deserve to express your discomfort.

You watched the spout with an unwavering intensity, observing as the droplets of residual water fell about every forty five seconds. The minuscule sound of them rippling into the water reminding you of the way the crimson droplets of the past used to drip onto the tile flooring from your arms. Temptation is at its absolute precipice here, but then you start to see flashes of them with every single drip...

Drip...

The flash of crimson against a murky yellow tile fades from your mind fast. It's replaced by Wanda's smiling face and calm voice., "You're stronger than your thoughts are detka..."

Drip...

Your lip quivers as you see the oozing marks on your arms, too deep for your own patching up, you felt that familiarity; cold. When you blink you're quickly thrown into another memory. Natasha's arm is over your abdomen as she hums and smiles down at you, your attention slowly shifts to the opening door to see Wanda with a tray of food, and a wide grin; warmth.

Drip...

"Moya lyubov', I'm so proud of you.," Natasha cheers while placing soft lips to your faded scars before pulling you into a tight hug.

The last memory had felt so real, your wet body trembling as it imagined the pressure of a hug. Tears now befell your cheeks, but this time they were different as you now felt a glimpse of hope for the first time in two weeks. Their love was everything to you, and it was what guided you out of the cold tub, and what allowed your fingers to drop the untainted blade into a bin.

—

Natasha was thrashing about in the hotel bed, her mind wandering back to the night they left. Nothing felt right in her chest when she thinks of how sad you looked when they left in a huff. Angry words were muttered in the heat of the moment over shit that held no significance. Everyday that went by on this no contact mission led to a deepening sense of dread for the both of them. So much so that the top agent willing broke Shield protocols for you.

They tried to use a pay phone to call you, but you expectantly didn't answer, and they've been feeling even more uneasy ever since. Calling anyone else would've given themselves away, but now that she's staring at the ceiling of this dingy hotel room she reasons it would have been the smart thing to do regardless.

"I feel this tightness in my chest Natasha...," Wanda winces as she sits down beside her., "Something's wrong, and I'm not going to just ignore this and stay here two more weeks."

Natasha only nodded, hers was more akin to a deep pit in her stomach, but it was a definite sign that this mission was to be abandoned., "Let's go home.," she extended her hand out for her love, then guided her out to the incognito jet that was already holding their belongings.

—

It wasn't much—you knew that, but you were actually proud of yourself for being here at all.

Stood in the kitchen, dressed in Nat's sweats, and Wanda's oversized t-shirt you stared warily at the egg that was sizzling in the frying pan. Days had gone by since you last ate, so it was a daunting challenge to eat at all at this point. Fears of throwing it back up as your body is prone to retaliating against you in such ways consume your entire being leading you now to the safest bet you have—an unseasoned egg.

The crackling over the stove leaves your tired mind a bit preoccupied as the front door creaks open. Natasha enters first, followed quickly by the frantic witch who's heart momentarily settles at the sight of you cooking some food. The peace doesn't last long though when she fails to hear your thoughts, the emptiness in your head a frightening bout of deja vu.

Last time you were this calm they nearly lost you, and that wasn't a reality ever worth facing.

Natasha clued in to your state as well, her eyes roamed your body, taking notice of the way you had clearly thinned out in such a short time. Adding onto that the way you left your hair a sopping mess, and the lack of length on your nails she knew you'd been here suffering alone.

The women shared a moment of sorrowful eye contact, the witches lip trembling, but the former assassin shook her head—not now... Wanda nodded, then the pair made their way over to your rigid form, and as softly as she could Wanda laid her hand over your very own.

"Detka.," her word was a whisper that drew an audible whimper from your throat., "It's okay."

It wasn't really, you all knew that, but you all also knew that now that you're all together again that it would be fine eventually, and well quite frankly that had to count for something because if not, you were all left with nothing.

"Come here love, let me handle your hair...," Natasha coo'd in your ear as she gently guided you out of the kitchen and up to your room., "Sit down at the vanity for me please detka.," her voice was soft as ever so that she wouldn't startle you, she even smiled at you too for good measure, and though you couldn't return it just yet she saw the gratefulness within your orbs.

Natasha entered the bathroom with the intent to collect your brush, along with a variety of products for your hair and skin. The mess on the floor was overlooked completely as she rummaged around, but she stopped in her tracks when the lights reflected off something. Her hands trembled as she dropped the products in the sink before reaching for the trash can by the door., "Please, no, no, no..."

The truth became clear as she lifted the metal from the trash, a few tears fell from her eyes at the reality of what they were dealing with here. Thoughts of what could've become of you sends her tumbling to her knees, choking back her sobs because you didn't need more burdening, a tear falls atop the blade, and that's when she notices how easily it cascades off the metal.

The closer she observes the piece she realizes that there were no traces of blood on it, and no uncleaned stains along the tiles or sink either. It's enough to stop her tears, but the damage to her heart and psyche had already been done. The Russian rushes out of your joint bathroom, the need to be with you imminent, and when she finally reaches you she feels the need to hug you tightly, but she fears it might be too much too soon for you to handle.

Natasha set a hand on your shoulder, a clear yet non startling sign to you that she returned., "I'm going to blow dry your hair, then I'll put it up in a bun.," you shook your head., "Braids?," she tried again, and to her relief you nodded. The redhead went slowly, her hands gentle as they tousled through your wet locks, moving the hair around to aide the machine drying it.

After the hair was faintly damp she began to separate the strands meticulously, her eyes double focused as she caught ever tick of your face as she worked to tightly braid your hair. There was a ghost of a smile on your face when she scratched at your scalp affectionately, and her heart fluttered in her chest at the first sign of you coming back to them., "All done love."

"Detka, can I take your hoodie off please?," you looked at her warily, but eventually nodded., "Thank you.," she smiled softly at you even though her mind was screaming at her to hurry and make sure you were okay. At the sight of your unmarred skin she knew you were, her shoulders tension instantly eased up. Once you were slyly assessed Nat went into the hallway to collect her favorite hoodie from the dryer., "Arms up.," she gently commanded, and then she smiled when you groaned appreciatively.

"Now what?," she was shocked to hear your voice this soon, there was an obvious scratch to it from being inactive for several days, but it didn't effect the way she nearly burst into tears at hearing you speak., "Whatever you need.," the tears nearly won out though as she reached out to cup your cheek and you didn't evade her.

"C-can we please cuddle?," you looked at her with the most pitiful gaze, there was an air of embarrassment in them that left her a bit unsettled, but she still took your initiation of physical affection as a good sign that you were headed in the right direction., "Of course moya lyubov', sounds absolutely heavenly to me."

Natasha laid down first, pulling back the blanket she gave you all the autonomy here. Because though she was desperate to hold you, she also knew you were in a fragile headspace. She watched carefully as you slumped into a prominent dent in the mattress, her arms were now resting besides her body in wait for you. Without any words you used your hands to guide her flat onto her back, then after laying atop of her with your head over her chest you squeezed her arm., "Please hold me Natty."

Strong arms wrapped around your body in an instant, her hand was now resting over your head to hold you in place while she hummed along to your most favorite of her lullabies., "Sweet dreams pretty girl...," her hands never stopped rubbing calming circles into your back, and it wasn't long before you were snoring.

It wasn't until an hour later that Wanda quietly entered your shared bedroom., "What is it?," the witch lifted the tray into her lovers eye line, while hers fell to your currently relaxed face., "How long has she been out for Nat?," the redhead murmured her response of an hour while moving to rouse you awake, but Wanda reached out to stop her so she could do it.

"My sweet girl, time to wake up for me please.," her arms wrapped around your body as you shifted ever so slightly, she lifted you from Nat's body and settled you in her lap instead., "I brought you lots of different options honey, we know you're scared, but please try to eat."

Natasha was sat before you with the tray, she playfully waved food before your face to feel it out, her eyes watched your face for the slightest bit of intrigue, and she found that the apple dipped in peanut butter and yogurt chips seemed to win you over., "Here love.," you softly munched on the snack while instinctively l settling deeper into Wanda's embrace, and missing the way the pair were staring at you.

"How about these cucumbers in ranch, hm?," you allowed her to feed this one to you, your heart soon fluttering back to life at the sight of her emotionally charged smile, and also at the feel of Wanda's soft lips against your hairline., "Can you eat a little more for me angel?," you nodded against her chest, then accepted a few more bites of the varying foods until you knew you'd reached your bodies ultimate limit.

As Natasha carried the tray down to the kitchen Wanda continued to hold you close, rocking you in an attempt to soothe your soul. It had even appeared to be working when she felt your breathes evening out, but then she heard you gasping, and it was near painful for her to see you breaking down so candidly.

"I-I'm sorry.," her entire body froze as you not only spoke, but you felt the need to apologize., "No, detka we're the sorry ones here. We not only yelled at you due to our misguided anger, but then we left you all alone without so much as an apology or even a bit of reassurance."

"You didn't deserve that my sweetest love.," her lips tenderly pressed against your tear soaked cheeks., "So please don't apologize to us.," she then laid you down in the middle of the bed., "Let us apologize to you instead, we'll make it up to you, I promise...," her forehead was now pressed to yours, and your heart was cracking as her tears mixed with yours on your cheeks.

"We will, and we just hope you'll forgive us.," Natasha softly adds as she enters the bed, and masterfully pulls the both of you closer to her., "You're our entire world detka, the most precious thing we've ever called ours, and we will never leave you alone like this ever again."

"Nat—.," Wanda kissed your lips to cut you off., "She means it detka, no more joint missions, the promise isn't a fable—it's the truth, because if anything were to happen to you we wouldn't survive Y/N.," her voice cracked, and a steady stream of her tears befell your cheeks again. "Losing you would be devastating for us detka."

"I-I'm not going anywhere.," you sounded so small, like a meek little worker bee trying to impress the queen, but there was also a small flash of determination in your eyes that was caught by the both of them as they adoringly looked at you., "I promise I'm here to stay."

"Thank you detka, for fighting to stay, we know it's hard, but we're so freaking proud of you.," Wanda's lips lovingly pressed to yours, she just needed to feel the familiar touch she desired., "So gosh damn proud love.," Natasha agreed before taking her own chance to kiss you.

Neither of them stayed on your lips for long, they didn't want to overwhelm you at all, but fortunately for them you seemed content with the affection as you sighed softly and smiled softly as you melted back into the mattress.

There was no overnight fix for you here, they both knew that come tomorrow you'll be back in a vulnerable state, but the only difference is they will be there for you when you awake numbed. Natasha will be there to rock you in the morning when you wake up crying, and again at night, as she sings to you for as long as you need to fall asleep, and Wanda will be your hands as she bathes you, and feeds you when you can't manage to do the tasks on your own.

They'll be there to love you back to life every day until being a person again comes naturally, because even just one moment of happiness with you is worth a hundred bad days to them.

—————

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader x natasha romanoff #wanda x you x nat #wanda x nat #wanda x natasha #wanda x natasha x reader #wandanat imagine #wandanat angst #wandanat x you #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x female reader #wandanat x reader

[olderthannetfic]

All the griping about #ownvoices claiming to represent diversity but really just forcing minority authors to write very particular ideas of what a "minority experience" is that please what publishers and "progressive" readers of majority groups want to see.... makes me feel like that movie American Fiction can't come out soon enough. I mean idk how much penetration that will have with the YA and genre publishing industries but. It floored me when I realized the novel it was based on was like 20 years old.... it just shows how while we might have a different publishing-industry label for it, black authors feeling like their books get ignored if they don't write for a particular (racist, tbh) fantasy of what the "black experience" looks like is an evergreen problem.

--

I know someone who's a tv writer, and they're always calling her up and using the word 'urban'. She's a dork. She should be writing for Gus from Psych or just any old show, not whatever it is they think she's going to be good at.

The real sticking point for a lot of white readers isn't a heavy book about issues: it's connecting with a trashy beach read about a Mary Sue who happens to be black. Or, for those of us who read trash m/m, asking us to have a black man as our single perfect tear woobie of choice.

I don't know why this is so hard for us. (I mean, racism, duh, but specifically why? It's all very well to blame the R word, but there are a million flavors, and unraveling stupidass underlying assumptions and bad behavior requires grasping what's going on more precisely.) I suppose it's a lifetime of training about otherness and who's allowed to be fragile and perceiving every single instance where the fairytale princess doesn't match our hair and eye color exactly—yes, even if she's white—as a demand that we never have personal wish fulfillment fantasies again. The atrociousness of a lot of media doesn't help, particularly for fanfic, but that's not the whole of it. A lot of people act like you ran over their cat if you ask them to identify with a sensitive, vulnerable black character in iddy trash fun.

[elly99]

pho-ever

Hanni was in Chicago for Lollapalooza. Just over five years ago she sat next to you everyday at school. Hanni was a Gucci ambassador. But in one of her pictures you see her wearing the socks you got for her way back when.

You were surprised to say the very least. It had been quite a while since you'd stopped communicating regularly. Maybe the occasional birthday greeting or 'how are you' only for things to fizzle out after a few days. Though you missed how it used to be, when not a day went by where you weren't talking, you understood that your lives were very different now. But still you wonder why she would do this now after all this time.

Would it be worth asking her? You did miss her after all. Why not ask an old friend how she was doing? You had nothing better to do at 3 in the morning.

"hey hanni! just wanted to ask you how you've been doing. i know you're probably quite busy right now so no worries if you can't reply right away. chookas for tomorrow!!"

You were going to leave it there and try to get some sleep, but to your astonishment she replies almost immediately.

"heeeyyy!! thank you!! i'm doing great! just a little nervous for tomorrow but i know it'll be fun. it's so nice hearing from you again!! how have you been? i was thinking about you recently"

"oh really? cuz i saw you posted a picture with those socks"

"yeah man! i'm never gonna lose these!! they mean a lot to me"

That hit somewhere deep in your heart.

"really?"

"what do you mean really? don't act surprised!!"

"well i am! i mean we don't talk as much as we used to. and you haven't been back in melbourne for so long"

"doesn't mean i'd forget about one of my best friends!"

"you still consider me that?"

"of course! don't you?"

"pho-ever hahaha"

"pho-ever ❤️"

You take a minute to think about what to say next.

"hey hanni honestly the real reason i texted was because i've been missing you a lot recently. i went through high school and i'm in uni now but after you left i just never had another friend like you. nobody ever got me like you did. and i know we've changed and grown up a lot since then but i feel like you'd still get me. you've always been special to me. so yeah i've just been feeling a little lonely lately"

Instantly you regret sending something so heavy. And your worry only builds as the minutes go by without a reply. But she surprises you for the third time that night. Because she's calling.

"Hey, brooo! It's been so long! It's good to see you again!"

You'd seen so many photos and videos of her since she debuted but there was something so strange about seeing her like this on your screen. She was the perfect juxtaposition of dazzling stardom and warm, nostalgic familiarity. She was still the Hanni you loved from all those years ago but it felt like you were meeting her for the first time again.

"Sup, bro," you chuckle. "It's good seeing you, too! I wasn't expecting you to call. Sorry I look like a mess. It's 3 AM."

"Oh, yeah! It's really late for you! Well, I just wanted to call quickly to say that I miss you a lot, too. You know being here in Chicago has had me thinking a lot. Like, it's hard to believe that I've come so far and I'm really so grateful and honored."

"But you deserve it, Hanni! You've worked so hard to get where you are now. I'm so proud of you, by the way."

"Aw, thanks, man! But, yeah. Sometimes I find myself missing the simpler days. Everything's moving so fast now and sometimes I just wanna go back to the old days of just messing around at school. With you and all our old friends. That's why I wore those socks. Just to remind myself of where I came from. Of all the people that are so important to me."

You catch yourself tearing up at her words.

"Hey, Hanni, we didn't ever say 'I love you' to each other, did we? I don't think that's something we ever said to each other. I mean, kids don't really have a good grasp of that, right? But as I grew older and realized just how important you were to me, I was like, 'Yeah, I love this girl.' So, yeah. Just thought I should say that," you laugh nervously at your sudden confession.

"And I love you, too! I guess my way of saying that back then was sitting next to you everyday," she laughs with you, her radiant smile easing your nerves. "I know I haven't been able to visit in years and I'm really sorry about that! But I promise as soon as I'm able I'll come see you. I'm also sorry I haven't kept in touch as much recently but I hope you know I think about you a lot. I'm sure when we meet up again it'll be like nothing changed. We can go back to singing What Makes You Beautiful like there's no tomorrow."

"God, I miss that."

You make eye contact and you recognize her look just as she recognizes yours.

"BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NOBODY ELSE!!!"

This time you laugh together and it really was as if nothing had changed.

"Speaking of what makes you beautiful, you should go get your beauty sleep. It's so late!"

"You're right. I should at least try to be a functioning human, right? But thanks so much for calling, Hanni. I really appreciate it. You're the best."

"Hey, no problem, man! I really missed hearing your voice. Reminds me of home."

You have no answer for her sweetness.

"And whenever you feel lonely, remember I'm always here, ok? Just text me any time! I'm always here for you. I'll do my best to send you my own updates from time to time as well."

"Alright, will do, bro. Have fun tomorrow! I know you're gonna devour it."

"I'll do my best!"

"You always do. See ya, Hanni!"

"Good night! Get lots of sleep, have sweet dreams and eat well tomorrow! Love yaaa!"

She was too good for the world.

After the call you smile to yourself in the dark. Deep down you knew that, no matter how much time passed or how much distance there was between the two of you, you both still had a piece of each other in your hearts. Since she left years ago she had gotten herself new jeans but she'd keep those old socks pho-ever.

#hanni x reader #hanni #hanni new jeans #newjeans x reader

[vibratingskull]

Vita carnis

Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27

Tags : Graphic depiction of Torture, Angst/hurt/comfort

FemaleReader x Thrawn

Time passes in this damp cavern, strapped to a metal bed you're left to rot and terrorized out of your skin. When someone comes down your floor, you know they come for you...

You’re tired.

You can’t really sleep in this condition, you wake up at every noise, stress spiking up like daggers through your flesh.

Are they coming for you? Is it your last day on earth?

You’re tired after crying so much that you don’t have tears anymore, puffy dry eyes and dry cheek skin. You sigh. You tried to get out of the leather contraptions but you only managed to burn your skin.

But you think…

You managed to loosen them up.

You hold on to this crazy hope.

You gulp, your throat and mouth are dry, they don’t bring you food down there , just water to ensure you don't die prematurely. 

How long has it been? A week? More? Less? You can’t say.

You occasionally hear whines and cries, apparently you’re not alone in this dungeon. Some other people are here with you, you wonder if Thrawn is among them, chained up in a bed, hopeless against those sick bastards. And Vez? Is he still alive? Did he suffered? Your head spins with all of those questions. You want to sleep, you’re too tired, but your body and mind won’t let you.

You had time to think, that’s all you could do, pieces of the puzzle coming together. Those pirates, they weren’t just stealing slaves from the Empire for profit but on behalf of Nather, to replenish his cells. It explains why he tried to take the datacard from you and preyed on any information you could tell him about this hunt. You’ve been wondering, is the Rear Admiral Martilf also in on it? Does his atrocious management of the battle of the Zephyr a calculated move on his part or did he really just fucked that up that day? 

Divi's smile floats in your mind like an ominous warning, her weird words become clearer now that you're here. It was nothing else but a screen of smoke, a lie. Her and Nather played you like a fool. You suppose everyone at the dinner is in on it, none of them was true to their words, just false praises to fool you, and it worked. 

You hear a distant door bang and steps coming closer. You gulp. The steps are slow and heavy, clearly coming in your direction. You brace yourself, digging nails in your own palms. 

Please go away! Please go away! Please go away! Please go away! Please go away!

You hear a crank at the door and it shuffles open.

It’s your turn.

A fat sinister man enters the room without a word for you and goes towards a table with tools on it. You follow him in silence, with a deadly stare. He manipulates something that you don’t see before turning back on you with a goblet of water, he comes towards you and grabs your chin. You resist but he forces your mouth open. He pours the water in, choking you at the same time.

- Don’t die, we need you fresh, he simply says.

You cough your lungs out, it got down the wrong way. He grasps your remaining leg and jabs you with a needle.

- What’s that? You demand with a shaken voice, but venom is unmistakably here. 

- Anesthezing.

- For what?

- For the cut.

No…

No!

You writhe in a panic on the bed, pulling on the contraptions, to no avail. You agitate yourself so much the bed is almost knocked over. He slaps you across the face but you continue fighting. Not that ! Not that ! Please ! Maker, if you exist, have mercy ! 

He shoves a ball of fabric in your mouth, silencing you. You pull harder on the contraptions, trying to seize him and by some miracle they let you go. You throw your knee expertly in his head, pushing him back. He groans as he steps back, in pain. You roll and fall down the bed on your stomach and start crawling towards the door. Hurry! 

You almost reached the door when you're yanked back with force, he seized your collar, holding you back. He drags you back and throws you on the bed. Air escapes your lungs with the impact. 

- Well the masters were wondering how you were doing. I can say that you're feeling great, with so much energy you don't need that I brought you water, he threatens. 

He seizes a fistfull of your hair and slams your head against the metal head, stunning you. You stop screaming in the gag, processing the pain in your head. You feel him manipulating your limbs without knowing what he is doing. You shake your head to see your back in tight contraptions and your leg in some sort of press, between two heads of metal, he starts turning a lever and you feel the two heads squeezing your leg more and more. You understand in a flash, he wants to break your bones. 

But the anesthetizing didn't take effect yet. He can't… 

Far from stopping him, he continues to compress your legs so much that  your bones creak. You feel your leg veins slowly bursting one by one. You bite into the fabric with all your might, praying for it to come to an end. Your whole body is tense like a bow string, you feel your blood beating in your temples and you sweat like after a marathon. 

Maker please. 

It breaks with a sounding crack. 

You scream at the top of your lungs, muffled by the gag. 

The pain just exploded like an engine under high pressure, and now it's spreading to your entire leg. 

It's unbearable. 

You barely register what's happening around you, the pain is too strong. 

- Stop wiggling. It's almost done, he sighs. 

You can't respond, the pain echoing in your body. 

You hear him take out the press and the clanking of other tools. You have tears in your eyes, blurring your vision. You see him come back to you with something long, shining and red. 

A saw. 

He manipulates your injured leg like he would a piece of steak, without consideration or precaution. You're too tired to do anything, to fight back. You just want to lose consciousness. Black out and wake up when everything is finished. 

If you ever wake up. 

He places the saw…

And cut. 

The pain is like a thousand knives stabbed in your leg. 

Terrible. 

Horrible. 

You scream again.

You cry.

You plead through the gag. 

Tears roll down your cheek while your leg shakes in spasms. He continues cutting while whistling a tune. you feel blood spewing out of your wound. It’s warm and sticky. You agitate yourself in all directions, shaking the bed on its feet.

He cuts deeper.

You’re drooling like crazy and feel the burning of the bile in your throat. He saws your tender flesh like he would a regular piece of meat, completely unbothered and unsympathetic to your troubles and pain. You dig your nails in the thin mattress, tearing it apart. The burn of the cut is horrendous. You start feeling daze with the loss of blood, something he seems to notices.

- Anesthetizing is also a coagulant. You won’t die like that, not now, he says like he was normally conversing with you about the weather.

He reaches the bones and applies significant pressure to pass through it. It resonates through the room, echoing on the damp walls.

Your tears and pain blind you, all is white and burns your eyes. 

You puke, but most of it is blocked by the gag and you start choking. You spasm on the bad until he notices. He takes out the gag and you spew everything, coughing and gasping for air.

- Arh! Disgusting! I thought it was a quick anesthetizing, why didn't it take effect? You made such a mess, now…  

You cough your lungs, drool and vomit all over the face.

Maker, stop… You can’t take it anymore…

You…

__________________________________________

You hear a detonation.

You weakly open your eyes.

You have a terrible headache.

The room is in pitch darkness, but you see a ray of light under the door.

You hear other detonations

And screams..

Is the facility attacked?

You wait in anticipation.

Another detonation makes the walls of your room tremble. You hear shouts that sound like orders and a multitude of steps descending in your direction. A door near your room is being burst open, you hear cries and other shouts. Steps came closer. you see the shadows of feet under the door. Are they here to finish off their victims before being taken? 

You’re too tired to care, now.

They might as well put you out of your misery, you’ll not oppose a resistance, you don’t have the energy for this. Nor the will…

It looks like they’re struggling to open the door. You could laugh if you weren’t miserable and groggy. 

It take them two attempts and they manage to open it, it lifts up a cloud of dust and smoke, burning your eyes and your throat. The sudden light forces you to close your eyes, and as you squint you see a white form slowly approaching.

- Lieutenant Stailit, we’ve found her, they warn with their radio.

You open your eyes more, to the reassuring sight of a stormtrooper. The Empire! They’re here! You want to express your joy and your relief, but you only left out a pitiful string of unintelligible noises.

The trooper opens the contraptions swifty and as they’re about to help you rise they seem to notice something.

- Lieutenant, prepare the medbay and a stretcher, the subject is in bad shape… Real bad shape.

They then lean forward and delicately pick you up, getting you out of this hell. You want to warn them Thrawn is surely in this compound, Vez too maybe? But you can only raise your head without a sound leaving your mouth. 

You let your head fall back down and lose consciousness.

___________________________________________________________

How much time has passed?

You don’t know.

You just know you feel at peace here. It’s warm. It’s fuzzy. It’s soft.

You feel like you’re one with the universe.

Sometimes you feel like a warm hand is holding yours.

Sometimes you're hallucinating Thawn’s voice. But that’s just silly.

You curl over yourself, you feel so comfortable, but far away you hear a beeping sound that bothers your tranquility. 

Why is it coming nearer? 

You try to cover your ears, but the sound keeps continuing, louder and louder. Impossible to just ignore it now.

You pester and turn on the other side.

You hear voices now.

What’s happening?

Can’t you be left in peace for five minutes?

You sigh.

As time passes, the voices get clearer and you think you recognize a mechanical one?

You’re not sure.

You’re only sure you don’t want to depart from that place.

Too comfy.

A ray of light comes to disturb the ambient darkness and the beeping sound is now resonating everywhere. 

You grit your teeth.

Thrawn’s voice starts again.

You try to focus on that, but as you do the voice the voice subside and the beeping only becomes clearer and clearer, the light invading your space more.

At some point you can’t escape it.

You open your eyes…

… You’re met with a metal ceiling, utterly uninteresting. You turn your head towards the beeping sound, slowly because of some stiffness. It’s a heart monitor. You’re in a medbay of some sort. 

You groan.

That headache…

A meddroid comes into your field of vision.

- Good morning, Lieutenant Commander (Y/l/n). It is a good surprise to see you awake, it salutes with its mechanical voice.

You don’t know who had the idea of making those friendlier but you’re not sure you’re on board. You groan again, holding your head, you notice you’re transfused.

- The Grand Admiral Thrawn asked to be immediately warned if you ever regain consciousness, it continues.

- Thrawn is okay? you ask, your attention immediately piqued.

- He never felt better.

It helps you get in a sitting position. You have so little memory of what happened, your head is so groggy right now, you can’t make sense of most of it. You followed the pirate in a decrepit boutique and then…? 

Nothing.

The void.

And that damn headache… 

And you don't feel anything in your limbs. How is that. 

You slowly come to the réalisation that you're not in a hospital but in the medbay of an ISD. The Chimaera, you suppose. 

-Ah ! Finally she's awake !

Uh oh. You recognize that voice. 

- That is not too soon. 

Not this one. It is stern, imperial and doesn't call for rebellion. 

You hear steps coming towards your room and you try to appear as dignified as possible after waking up in a hospital bed after marker's know how much time. 

Finally, Admiral Konstantine, Grand Admiral Thrawn and a third man pass the door. 

That third man, you never met him but you know him really well. 

Grand Moff Tarkin. 

You gulp. 

What does it mean?

Thrawn appears indifferent, Konstantine is agitated and Tarkin doesn't seem pleased to be here. They all look at you making you feel small and insecure. 

What is this, a trial ? 

-Grand Moff Tarkin, this is Lieutenant Commander (Y/l/n), Thrawn finally explains, she is at the origin of this hunt with the Rear Admiral Martilf. 

Tarkin scrutinizes you with a hard gaze, you feel he's about to say something but nothing comes. You bow your head with respect.

"Grand Moff Tarkin, I'm honored to finally meet you." You say with a heavy voice, full of sleep. 

-Well miss (Y/l/n), you put us in a certain mess… He chastises with an icy cold voice. 

He's really not pleased, you think. 

"The Emperor wished to deal with this problem in a more secretive fashion but with Grand Admiral Thrawn's endeavor to find you, he almost blew up a city, he sides eyes Thrawn, clearly unimpressed. 

-This operation was primarily to stop the slave traffic that cost so much to the Empire, I managed to find their hideout thanks to Lieutenant Commander (Y/l/n). 

-And how exactly did you do that ? Tarkin demands. 

-I simply followed the signal emitted by her comlink. They found out mid-trip and destroyed it but guessing their location was simple logic by now. 

Tarkin observes Thrawn in silence, gauging him, before letting out a frustrated sigh. 

"You will be interrogated about this affair, he turns towards you, it concerns high ranking members of the Empire and the trial won't be a piece of cake. I count on your complete coopération. 

-Of course, sir, you nod.

Well that promises to be funny… 

-If we are done here, I have other pressing matters to attend to, he snarls. 

-You may go, Grand Moff Tarkin, says Thrawn, I will remain here and interrogate the Lieutenant Commander more. 

The two men leave the room, leaving you alone with Thrawn. 

"Did it disturbed you in the middle of a meeting ? You ask with a little voice.

-You never disturb me, he sits on the bed, tell me : how do you feel ? 

He takes your hand and kisses it. You shake your head. 

-Confused. I have little to no memory about what happened. I'm afraid I won't be of any help to the ISB, you laugh, but overall I feel great. 

Thrawn looks at you with an indecipherable expression, caressing your hand. 

-You really worried me, he murmurs, you remained unconscious for more than a week. 

-Oh wow. That's my new record! 

-I do not find it particularly funny. 

-No, you're probably right… 

You clear your throat, squeezing his hand. 

-You know… It's gonna sound stupid, but… when I was sleeping I heard your voice. Multiple times… You confess. 

You giggle to yourself, feeling a bit dumb to reveal such kiddish things. 

-I came to talk to you as much as I could, I found stories from your homeworld and read it to you each evening, he kisses your hand again, I held your hand and called your name in hope of seeing you open your eyes. I held my breath as long as you slept. 

You feel your cheeks burn, it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. You take his hand and kiss it too. 

-I am here now. Everything is alright, you look at him with tenderness, would you accompany me for a little walk ? 

You lift the cover. 

And stop dead in your mouvement. 

You look at your legs, your mind frozen. 

Then 

It comes back at you brutally. 

With full force.

You let out a scream that ends up in a cry. 

How could you have forgotten ? 

You hide your face behind your hands, as much to hide your cry as it is to hide the reality. You feel an arm wrapping itself around your shoulders, Thrawn hugs you tenderly. 

-I am sorry (Y/n), sometimes Victory comes at a cost. Goods, lifes, limbs… It can leave scars at the deepest of our very being. 

You put your face in the crook of his neck and cry like you never cried before, his hand comes stroking your hair. 

-It will take time, but you will get used to it. In one way or another you will find the resources to adapt yourself. 

He cradles you gently. 

-That is what warriors do. 

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth’raw’nuruodo #fanfic #vibratingskull

[quinloki]

Moonbeams filtered through the small window. The sound of the cracking wood echoed in the small room. Two prisoners, basking in each other's presence, taking solace in those calming moments, away from their captor and his viles fantasy.

Marco looks at them, admiring something that wasn't there in the last few months: blessing calmness.

Did they finally give up and accept their fate? He was there, almost there. Still, a small hope lingered in his chest, a small spark that never had the chance to get free.

Their hands gently caressed each other, fingers entangled with each other like a silent promise.

"How do you feel, yoi?"

They mumbled something, their eyes opening. Were they tired? They didn't look so well in the last few days...

"So, so...I'm just happy to be with you."

Despite all that, their words gave him a sense of calmness. His free hand is squeezing their shoulder towards him, embracing their body. It seems so cold.

"Do you want to sleep?" They shoked their heads, looking him directly in the eyes.

"Marco...thank you... Thank you for trying. I'm sorry that you needed to ...endure all of this for me."

Their breath was heavy; it seemed like they were trying to grasp enough air for their lungs.

"You don't have to thank me..."

"It must...have been hard to...keep it together...you were always strong and kind....you...you got it before everyone else. I was slipping away..."

Something was off... Their tone seems so off despite their words, their grip holding him like a lifesafer in the ocean.

"Why are you saying these things now? You don't have to-"

"But now...now you don't have to....worry about me anymore, all right?"

Marco's eyes opened in shock and fear. They smelled so strange...so...salty...When was the last time he actually saw them drink water?! Why did they look allways so suffering in the last days?!

"W-What did...what did you...."

"Do...do you know? S-Salt, if used in excess, can...

Marco's grip became stronger than before, holding them to his chest. He tried to catch their hearts, but he sensed only some slow motion. The realization came to his mind like a wave: they were poisoning themselves with something that could be easily taken from the ship or the kitchen, they were poisoning themselves for...how long? 

"Marco...you can fly, right?"

He couldn't say anything, only holding them, hoping that maybe that gesture could have secured them in this world long enough.

"You don't...have the shackles anymore...you can just fly...then fly, okay? For me?"

He didn't say anything. What did he have to say? From his throat only hiccups and moans of pain, his eyes watering. The tears that were able to get away from his glasses falling to their faces had a tired smile on them.

"I'm sorry...i'm I'm sorry, Birdie. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"It's all right. It's all right, okay? ...Just fly...It's easy for you...."

They kept on smiling and begging him to just go. He kept on repeating his manthra, hoping that at least some good gods existed in that world that could hear it—to not take them away, to let them stay longer, to let them know that he genuinely loved them. But the gods didn't respond, and their lives slipped away from his grip.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, crying over his lost treasure. But sure, the spark ignited a fire.

He wanted to fly away.

oh man.

OH MAN. That calmness coming from such a decision T-T oh whew. Oh that just ripped my heart right out too.

thank you so much for sharing - I'm glad to see the yandere chatter lately, and in this case the Marco/Reader/Shanks Yandere chatter specifically, is inspiring so many people to add their two cents \o/

I can imagine too, after going through all that, that Marco would just surrender to the phoenix entirely. That whole thing about zoan users not usually being able to maintain themselves when they awaken would be a comfort to him.

He'll fly alright, he'll break the Red Force to driftwood just by spreading his wings and the world will know the fury and terror of a legendary bird lost to grief. Whose even to say if Shanks and crew survive - the phoenix itself might rage against him directly, who knows how much one can affect the beast within when they're so deeply in love?

#quin answers #reader insert #x reader #marco the phoenix #red hair shanks #yandere #cw suicide #mediwilldoitlater #reader death #character death #angst #ain't so sunshine in these cards

[circledotdestroy]

Retrospective - Chapter 4: Professional Conversations

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x F! Pro-Hero! Reader (the slowest burn) Main summary: After 12 years, you, Pro-Hero Strife, has to return to Japan. Your objective: discreetly track down and capture Akari Kaneko, a.k.a. Pro-Hero Aegis— your old classmate who attacked you during her visit in America. In the aftermath of All Might losing his power, however, using UA resources has its complications. The most unexpected complication being Aizawa, someone you never expected to see again. Why does your past have to come back to haunt you now? Masterlist First Chapter Last Chapter Word Count: 5,708

A/N: So Aizawa decided to comeback finally the other day... How are we feeling? Anyway, I hope this helps the manga readers. (I'm so sorry it's been over a month, life decided to throw me at the wall a few times. Because I've been struggling with posting chapters as often as I want to, I've decided after this one I will be cutting down the size. I hope it works out for the best, but that means there will be a larger number of chapters. I hope those of you that read my story don't care too much) (Also where the hell is Mic???)

For the rest of the meeting you stood breathless. Heart gushing blood through your ears.  The words of your proposal dissolved as everything after cemented arrangements flowed into nothingness. You smiled, nodded, and told your new boss you understood his terms as his words reached your ears. Yet you grasped at nothing.

Nezu left the room satisfied. Said something about signing and a new ID. On his way out he wished you the best working for Eraser’s class. You did well, you think. 

When Nezu was gone, heavy thunking and a giant shadow from the corner of your eye irritated you out of your trance. It was Mic, jiggling the briefcase by the handle. Your laptop was still in there! Slightly annoyed, you swiped at the handle to snatch it back. Mic pulled it away before you could, saying something about how he knows you can grab it, and to “try harder”. 

You rolled your eyes in a huff, though now wasn’t a good time to break character. Right? You looked around the bright room and almost everyone was gone. The clock on the wall ticked away as you tried to place when everyone left on a timeline. Nemuri waved on her way out, All Might gave you a thumbs up. This was maybe five to seven minutes after you volunteered your time thoughtlessly. When the vote was over, the only people who needed to be in the room was you, Nezu, and—

You turned to the right of Mic’s chair. Eraser finished gathering his folders from his table. Nezu left the details of your position to him. There were many questions you had about being an advisor, but the main one was ‘what does Eraser have in mind?’ Eraser went around the table. Before you finished thinking you’d need to stop him to clarify your new temp job, he joined you and Mic in the center of the room. 

In typical fashion, Mic caught on and spoke up before you thought of how to open. “You’re working with Strife then, Eraser? You excited?”

Eraser huffed, ignoring his question. Whether he regretted agreeing to the arrangement already, or he was annoyed Mic brought it up, you weren’t sure. So much for fostering a good professional relationship. You understood though. Just because something is objectively better, like having someone help you prepare twenty kids for a grueling exam, doesn’t mean it’s what you wanted. “I need to talk to Strife. Alone.”

Mic’s grin left his face as he looked at you then back at Eraser then back at you. “Alright,” his smile came back as he shrugged. Mic flipped your briefcase over his shoulder and walked toward the door, leaving you with the friend-of-a-friend. “Try not to keep her too long!” Eraser watched Mic leave the room. In the silence, the conversation you had earlier came to your mind again. Now that you owe him, thinking of how you stormed off earlier made you want to ask Mic to stay. Not out of fear, but because he’d make this interaction less uncomfortable. 

But it was too late when the door shut. 

You and Eraser. Alone. In a bright, empty room. There’s no need for played up charisma—not when he was past it all and knew you were full of it. Eraser, unexpectedly, held out the folders to you. Grabbing the small stack cautiously with both hands, you thought back to your earlier theory about the folders holding information meant to cast you out. If that was the case then he wouldn’t give you these now. Not when he can hold the folders as leverage for later. Eraser didn’t say a word until you flipped open the first folder, on the top there was a school photo of a boy with red hair. “My class starts training today in Gamma at 9:30.” Toward the middle there was another picture of him in the UA gym uniform. One of his arms was rigid like the side of a cliff, while the other looked normal. “Those contain the information of a few students in my class, I’ll give you more later. I want them to work on creating Ultimate Moves for the exams.” 

That’s it?

Eraser could’ve done that without you. Why would he agree to the deal, if the training was independent work?

Your finger traced the paper up to the lines next to the headshot of the boy. The first line should be his name. Squinting  at the page, your eyes bounced across the paper. The page was incomprehensible, a salad of lines and squares. You closed the folder and looked at the gray capture weapon again, it was easier to see what actions he’d take if you looked around his shoulders. “It’d be best if I observe the students before I read the files.” 

Eraser shifted his weight to one leg, causing a shift where his weapon overlapped. “Any reason why?” His weapon was too clean for it to be used frequently. Maybe he got it replaced recently? Yet again, with everything you heard about the school, his students fighting off villains without licenses… it’d make sense if he was sidelined from doing hero work if his teaching his class was a handful.

“I want to judge them myself,” you answered, mirroring his stance. You lowered the folders in front of your body. Eraser made no moves to take them from you. “Judges don’t read about people taking the test before the exam. It’s like how  students don’t meet judges grading the exam. It plays into…” you tried to find the right word. An equivalent to “impressions”, but drawn blank. You raised a gloved hand to pick the word out of the air. Eraser just leaned back with a vacant stare making it harder to concentrate. You closed your eyes and sighed as you settled on “-first sight, if you understand.” 

 When you opened your eyes, Eraser gave no input of his own. He stared blankly, with nothing to suggest he knew what you meant.

 Language switching wouldn’t be acceptable with him like it would be with Hizashi. If you were supposed to give advice to students, then you’d need to communicate clearly. How often would you have to play Word Find in front of teenagers? If you wanted to stay here long enough to locate Akari—hell, if you wanted to investigate in Japan, you needed to get your act together. And quick. “It would also help if they are focused on their training, not a stranger in the room.” While you figure out the mechanics of their quirks, you can have some time to think about and practice what you’ll say. It’ll be just like the first year.

“My students won’t get distracted,” Eraser crossed his arms, with an edge in his voice. Defensive? “But fine. It’s logical enough. We’ll still meet at Gamma and set something up for you to get the information needed, but the class still has to meet you today. There’s only 10 days of training, no time should be wasted.”

Fair enough. If they’re training ultimate moves, you only need a little time to get the gist of their quirks for day one. Details can come later. It should give you enough time for a language refresher. “Anything else?”  

Glancing at the ground, his boots pointed toward the door. Unlike his weapon, those were scuffed and broken in. The man is as ready to leave as you are. “We have everything covered. For now. We can talk more after you observe the class. We’ll discuss more when the time comes. For now, we’re building their strengths and hammering out weak points.”

The conversation ended and he finished, about to walk out the door. Footsteps thudded against the hard floor as he made his exit. You thought you were ready to see him leave, but “Wait—!” 

Eraser paused.

The hand raised toward him recoiled into a loose fist. You put it away before he turned back. When he did, your eyes trailed to his boots again. “The way I walked out…” They were pointed toward you, and not the door. Good to know you had his full attention this time around. He hummed, that type of thing would be hard to forget in less than a few hours. You tried to find the rest of your sentence and got stuck at a fork in the road. 

Were you supposed to say an apology you didn’t mean?

 You weren’t sorry about why you left. In fact, business and gratitude aside, you were still mad at him. Not that it matters. “I didn’t act my best,” you said, looking up from the ground. What you feel now— it means nothing. 

The man blinked slowly then glanced off to the side closest to the door. Bored already… Him listening to what you had to say was only professional courtesy. 

“I didn’t act my best. You’re giving me this opportunity to let me complete my mission faster, and you don’t have to.” You were going to work with him. You’ll help his class. All of them will get their license. In return, you’ll get the answers you need. When all is said and done, Eraser won’t ever see the Pro-Hero Strife again. “Thank you, Eraser.” Words fell out smooth as sand on your tongue, but you can look at his face again.

Eraser rubbed the back of his neck, dodging your gaze by glancing at the ceiling. “If you judged licensing exams before then you’re an asset. Letting you investigate here is a rational trade, I’d be an idiot to vote against it,” he explained listlessly, meeting your eyes toward the end.

You nodded. “Of course…” After a hectic few hours, this was how your conflict ended. All personal grudges all under the bridge… Just like that. 

Because you two are adults. Two adults with jobs to do– professionals.

You walked past the other hero, your short-term coworker, explained how you didn’t want to keep Mic waiting. He understood, told you he’d have more information ready later. Both of you went into the hallway. Mic was trying really hard to make it look like he wasn’t listening in. Mic tried dodging the suspicion by bringing up food. Fortunately for him, with the way you’ve been using your power– on top of the healing quirk, you needed calories. Enough to fill a black hole with the way your stomach squeezed. Eraser didn’t have the same worries as you. In seconds, he was long in the opposite direction and you were fine. 

Mic led you around campus talking about Lunchrush, another member of UA’s immortality club. With your past experience in the kitchen, a new respect toward the man has grown. He was in charge of preparing enough food for hundreds of people. Showing up unannounced for food felt like an invasion. Lunchrush would have little use for American currency. You really should stop at the bank to make an exchange soon. When you arrived at the cafeteria Mic gave your briefcase back, told you to wait while he worked his “magic”. He strolled backward into the kitchen door, finger guns blazing, to the orchestra of scraping metal. Not long after he came out of the kitchen holding two trays. One with a giant bowl and another with four smaller ones on them. You went to help him but he pointed his chin to a nearby table for you to sit. You hurried to the table, pulling one chair out for Mic then going around to the chair closest to the wall for you to sit.

“Lunchrush thought the request was weird for this time of day, but I figured it’d be closer to dinner for you.” Mic put the tray with smaller dishes on his side of the table. Savory steam floated from his food. His tray had savory broth and spring onion with either soft tofu or an onsen egg (it was hard to tell from your angle), plain rice, the fluffiest rolled omelet, and a strip of tender salmon. It was a feast for the eyes and you can almost taste it on your tongue.

You looked at Hizashi before you drooled over the table like a rabid animal. From your angle, it seemed as if there were no side dishes on the tray he was still carrying. His buckling elbow told you the bowl was heavy. “I tried to get your favorite, but you usually brought your own thing when you finally learned to cook for yourself.” He went to place your food on the table. When you reached to grab the tray, Mic pulled it away. You raised your eyebrow at him. The joke would’ve been more funny if your stomach wasn’t clawing inward to digest itself. Hizashi held the tray closer to you, but pulled it away when you tried grabbing it again. 

“Excuse me?”

 You expected him to laugh in your face then give you your meal, but his expression hadn’t changed from the slightly amused smile from earlier. The tray floated further from your reach as the man before you held the tray high like he was the cover model posing for Waiter’s Weekly. Hizashi looked down, his pose statue-esque. “You never said anything about Kaneko visiting you.”

You put your hands under the table. Once shielded under the table, your fingers interlaced firmly. “I didn’t mean to make you look bad, I’m sorry.” You really were, you’d apologize even if the beloved sustenance was in your grasp. Peering up again, the statue pose relaxed, but Hizashi made no moves to hand you the tray. “The case has been a lot, I guess,” you couldn’t truthfully tell him you forgot to say anything.

“Right—it just slipped your mind.” Mic teased with lasers scanning across your body. You stopped leaning over the table and forced yourself to sit straight. The wound became slightly itchy– a small price to pay. Was he going to ask about you calling him? “I’m gonna keep it real, you’ve been forgetting about a lot of things.” 

“I’m not the only one,” you thought, focus gliding to empty tables toward your right until you heard a sigh. 

“You’re talking about Aizawa?” The plastic tray thudded on the table. A treacherous scrap made you wince when Hizashi pulled his chair further out to join you at the table. “I wasn’t trying to blindside you either.” 

Steam curled into the air from the large bowl creating a veil between the two of you. Your fingers laced tighter, expecting Hizashi to say something else. Unless it was your turn to speak. You acknowledge his statement with a small nod. You moved your tray closer to your end of the table, hot vapor hit your face. You looked into the bowl. Hizashi got you a bowl of udon. The noodles were abundant with just enough rich broth, and it was topped with a crazy amount of vegetables and protein—the perfect thing for your current situation. In spite of your hunger, a lump formed in your throat. Most udon wasn’t supposed to include all these toppings, there was only one restaurant you remember including this much food without having to add on. Hizashi wasn’t playing around with what he said earlier. 

“What are we waiting for,” Hizashi asked, breaking the tension. “Let’s eat!” 

The two of you dug into your meals. As experience taught you, eating good food really does help move pain along. When you get the opportunity to combine the nutrients with sleep, you should feel a whole lot better the next time you wake up. 

“How do you feel,” asked Hizashi. 

You hummed with a slight jerk, worried he remembered your end of the call from days ago. When you processed the teasing edge to his voice, you relaxed. 

“Mentor Strife coming out of retirement, didn’t think I’d live to see the day.” Mic had a cocky smile. “And after you told me you couldn’t multitask—”

  “Not multitasking.” While you didn’t plan for this to be the mission, the mission is what the mission becomes. In this case the mission is finding Akari and helping Eraser’s students pass their test. The latter is secondary, but you know better than to walk around owing people. “I’m not mentoring students.” The students don’t need one–they already have teachers. “I’m helping them pass a test. That’s it.”  

Mic pouted mockingly toward you and you mirrored him briefly before drinking some broth. “Not gonna stay to celebrate after? That’s cold,” Mic shook his head, pointing his chopsticks at you lightheartedly.

“By the time of the exam, there shouldn’t be a reason why I’m still  at school. I need to finish work here before the hotel bill gets expensive. I want to go back to work soon.”

“Stay at the dorms then! We have all the room in the world. Unless…” Mic trails off, and you already know where this is going. “Personal feelings getting in the way of your job?” 

You drop your spoon into the bowl tight-lipped. “I like my space,” you smiled. 

“Space from who exactly?”

“Children,” you showed your teeth, hoping he’d get the hint. 

 Mic put his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying! You don’t know who’s working at a hotel. Plus there’s more guests day in and day out than a rock festival. If someone knows what they’re doing, they can find what room you’re in. Swipe a keycard and mess with your stuff.”

“You think Akari would do that,” you asked.

“Were we looking at the right scene earlier?” You leaned back and clutched your nonexistent pearls at his sudden outburst. Mic shook his head, “what i’m trying to say is: If Kaneko finds out where you are, it’d be a huge blow to your plan. If you don’t want to stay at the dorms because of your gross personal feelings–” Mic gagged, rolling his eyes back dramatically. Which, admittedly, got a smile out of you. “Then you could stay at my place– it’s not like I’m using it.”

“No way.” You shook your head. “I don’t know what you have there!”

“My apartment’s clean! Cleaner than yours ever was– I remember your–” Mic said a term you didn’t know the meaning of followed by “Disgusting!”

“I wasn’t talking about those.”

“Because you can’t,” Mic interrupted.

You put a finger in the air, “I’m staying at the hotel. The hotel is close to the train station and I’ll have to travel around for the case anyway. If it makes you feel better, I’ll leave my research here.”

“And if Kaneko finds you?”

You leaned back from Hizashi, you grabbed your chopsticks and chose a random topping floating in the broth. Tilting your head, you pondered his question and thought about what the right answer should be. If Akari were standing in front of you, in your hotel room, after everything she did. Looking back up at Mic, you shrugged. “Let her.”

When the meal was done, you and Mic had to go your separate ways for the morning. He had no problem giving you a refresher on gamma’s location, despite your constant reassurances for him not to. As predicted, the directions confused you into taking longer to leave the building. A good general idea based on your memory, turned into a jumble of lefts and rights. Spotting for “this” symbol over “that” one. Somehow to the gym before Eraser and his class. No one was heading out of the school from where you can, either. Trying your luck you pushed the door open, leading to a hallway that seemed to be in an ‘L’ shape. Exploring further, you spotted the double doors leading inside the gym. These doors were locked, however. 

You leaned on the door, not understanding why the class wouldn’t arrive earlier. Didn’t the staff want the first years to get their license as soon as possible? When the time came around for you, you’d rush to one of the training areas whenever you could. The ticking clock on the wall counted the seconds of your growing impatience. It made it hard to focus on your own thoughts. The off white tiles on the floor stretched out into a blurred vision of mind numbing boredom, then there was an aggressive prodding. 

You slid to the floor– no one was near the building. The small hide away surrounding the entrance would be fantastic for cover if villains ever got into the school. The hall was nice and flat too. You could throw a baseball at a good angle, have it bounce off the wall and knock someone out like that one ti— you needed something productive. Taking your phone out of your case, you checked the notifications. Nothing. Then you looked at your laptop. No one was coming yet, you had another twenty minutes, why not check that too? 

Pulling out the laptop, muscle memory took over. It came to a halt when the page wouldn’t load, no connection to the wifi it said. Checking the schools network, you were surprised to know Nezu never changed the password. Refreshing the page, you finally got into your account. The usual night crew should start their shift now. You moved the cursor to your workload and smiled seeing a red circle on your inbox link. When you clicked it you were happy to see you got a message from Gold Rush, the coworker who volunteered to work on the home-side of the case while you were away. Clicking on the message icon, you hoped he could tell you about what he found while you were in the infirmary.

Unfortunately, he just messaged you to say he just clocked in and wanted to see if you landed ok. It wasn’t what you wanted to read, you sighed, but replied about your progress. He put a thumbs up on the message. From there you had to strain your eyes to read the next block of text. Gold planned to take another look around your neighborhood, ask around to see if anyone saw Akari going into the building before your apartment was demolished— check out the damage again, if you were “okay” with it. When it’s over, he’ll send his notes on the last few days before his shift ends. 

Pressing your lips together, you typed “thank you” then stuffed the laptop in your briefcase. Everything should be fine. Gold was the one who found the postcard Akari left when you were out. You worked with him at the agency for years at this point. He pulled his weight and kept up with you fine. He can hold down what little fort is left, while you’re here. Helping hero trainees. 

You closed your eyes, already exhausted at the prospect of standing up again, but you pushed against the floor. Hold onto the wall. Seethe at some sharp pain in your side for a half-second.

See. Everything will be fine. 

How could it not be? 

You stretched your arms out and then walked in circles.  After a minute or two, the pain didn’t hurt as bad. Maybe calories were all you needed. 

Then there was a faint buzzing down your spine. No echoes in the halls. Just a ticking clock and your beating heart.

A jolt.

 It must be a group outside. Eraserhead and his class finally showed– no doubt about it. You went for your briefcase, not taking your eyes off the hallway. When muffled voices reached your ears, you were perfectly in the center holding the case at your side.  There was another jolt, then a surge hit you full swing. The pain was gone and you felt alive. 

What a lively—and/or terrified— group! You forgot how strong teenagers felt about things. Yet again, the last you were around this many of them was when you were a teenager who felt just as strong. If they were told about the exam prior, they’re either rushing to get the ball rolling or having their heart explode over the deadline. 

Turning the corner, the sea of students was technicolor. And louder than you prepped for. You took it all in. First impressions are integral to how citizens, and therefore judges, view a hero. What were you working with?

The boy with glasses looked like a knight with tubes coming out of his legs– a speed quirk probably? You could see civilians going to him to get them somewhere safe. If he was as strong as he looked, he could pack a punch on larger villains on the way out.

Two students reminded you of Present Mic when he was a teenager. Both of them, a boy and a girl wearing jackets that made them look like little rockstars! The boy had an electricity motif going on, so anybody can roughly guess what his power is—and the girl was wearing boots! And they had speakers? She must have a sound quirk like Mic, fantastic! If they play their cards right, they’ll never go broke.

While you can guess the quirk of those three, many students’ quirks were up in the air. One boy, with a nasty scar over his eye, wore a plain, navy blue jumpsuit. Another boy wore one with black, white, and a bit of yellow–who also had a mutation affecting his elbows, but you couldn’t guess what his quirk would be. At least he was stylish.

When it came to the girls' uniforms you were disappointed. The designers were STILL giving trainees heels! How are they supposed to run top speed in busted terrain? Unbelievable! 

Noticing the girls’ inadequate footwear opened the floodgates on the design flaws on the others. Lack of armor and padding on the boy with a giant tail and the girl with pink skin. Lack of support for the tallest girl wearing a unitard exposing her vital organs. She could be like Midnight and need skin exposure, but you doubt the support company has never seen a sports bra before. The worst sin you bore witness to is a short, purple kid wearing a diaper—a self-respecting hero wouldn’t design that!

The students in front of the line stopped chatting among themselves. Some jumped at the sight of you. The rest of the class went quiet as they assessed you, this stranger, standing in the middle of their hallway where you don’t belong.

“I’m not a villain.” 

No one laughed. The students’ expressions were vacant, they probably thought you were a dork. Your finger twitched as you thought of throwing your hand up and peacing out of there. Why did you volunteer for this position? You stood your ground and stared ahead. Judgemental teenagers won’t be the end of your resolve.

Eraser turned the corner, walking ahead of the silent crowd. “You showed up early.”

“I don’t show up late.” 

Toward the end of the line of students Midnight waved at you as she stood with two other men. One looked like a cinder block-snowman, the other had a swanky trenchcoat and bared his teeth. You waved back at your friend, and a few students turned toward the back of the line. Eraser gestured to everyone, Midnight and the other two teachers included, to go inside the Gym. There’s something he had to take care of and he’ll be back in a minute, he said before giving the key to the boy with the knight outfit. The boy took the key with extreme duty, saying he was honored for the responsibility. Nice to know who the energetic one is.

Eraser handed you blue file folders, similar to the ones you put in your briefcase earlier then started walking ahead of you. He explained the folders had the quirks of the students you’re working with. He took you to another door he had to unlock. It was a sharp contrast to the bright hallways from before. Some cobwebs hung from the dim ceiling and the stair railing. This was the type of place a killer would drag a victim to hold them for a few days. When he turned the light switch on, it was still darker than the outside, but not the worst place you’ve been too. 

Eraser approached the table against the wall holding a couple of computer monitors. He set up the tablet he tucked under his arm to the primary computer, explaining how to flip through the cameras. He said you can take notes on the tablet or in folders, but no matter what he’d need the tablet back. If you wanted anything to think over then you’d need to take notes manually, or bust out your own laptop. 

“I know for the best results, you need time to study the students, but try to wrap it up in around the twenty minute mark,” he explained as he finished setting up. He rolled a chair from the right of the table for you to sit. After everything from earlier, it was hard to believe you both were being professional about this. He must really want his class to pass. “Time is short, and there’s a lot to see in-person too.”

You sat, swiveling the chair. “Got it. No loitering,” you tapped the screen experimentally and the camera shifted. Eraser didn’t react to the statement, but you knew better than to expect him too. You were just here for the job.

Eraser asked if you had anything you needed to know anything else. Scanning the room again, you settled on asking where the stairs led. Apparently, it was an observation room. He said you could watch the class up there with you and leave the equipment alone; but he knew for a fact why you wouldn’t. 

You minded your manners and thanked him for setting up for you before he left for his class. You shook your head as the door shut, his class. Just as you said before, he may have been good with children, but Eraser being a teacher voluntarily was weird. Weirder being alone in a secret backroom.

The air brushed against your neck giving you chills. Where you sit, anyone can come behind you from either the stairs or the door if you weren’t mindful. You shifted the position of the chair’s seat toward the blank wall. With the stairwell’s rotation starting on your right and the table being under the “left” portion of the room, you should have better access to see everything that way. 

Soon, Eraser entered Gamma. He talked to his class for a while. Safe to say, it was about the exam. Midnight stepped beside him, her finger pointing in the air, then Cinderblock did the same thing. It was a cult practice. After he spoke, he turned around and walked away from the group. The boy in the knight outfit was giving a reaction to the Smile Man. The man wasn’t opening his mouth though— were they having a psychic conversation? The knight was pleased by what the Smile Man told him. Other students were giving him weird looks, further proving the psychic theory. 

Eraser spoke again and then the towers of rocks grew to the ceiling. Wait… You switch the camera view on one of the monitors and the structures reached 90% of the way to the ceiling. Back on the ground Smile Man threw up and more of himself formed, gross, but whatever gets the job done? The students were used to it at this point, because they were obviously hyped.

Starting now, you have twenty minutes to gather as much intel as possible. You clicked the screen to change the camera as fast as possible. The pink, moth girl worked with a substance oozing from her skin. A shorter boy, with a mutant quirk and a cloak, walked with Smile Man toward a farther corner of the gym to a cave structure. The boy with the tail started battling with a Smile Man and he was doing rather well. His combat skills were up-to-par, something undervalued considering not ALL villains are interested in leveling a city.

You switched the camera and nausea hit the back of your throat. The students were walking up the structures and there were no railings. OSHA would have a field day over these violations. Nausea hit you again when you remembered you’d have to join on said OSHA violations. If you didn’t know better, you’d think Eraser agreed to let you tutor his class to torment you. Like in the second you brought up the quid pro quo, he thought of the best way to make you quit and violate the agreement. Pushing the dread aside, you wrote as many notes on the students as you could before twenty minutes were over.

Fun fact: systems change all the time during American Licensing Exams. It’s part of the reason why first impressions matter so much. A good impression can add points, or prevent you from losing points in deduction-based systems. A bad impression will have the reverse effect, and frame everything someone does negatively. It’s easy to say only technical skills should matter, but you need to expect the people to have poor judgment if you want the students to succeed. 

You looked at the time and saw you had four minutes before close. You rushed to finish your last thoughts on the student– the boy from the file earlier, so you can join everyone at the gym. You thought about what advice you should give to him. It was clear from how he hit he put a lot of thought into strength, but if he could work on his speed— You wrote it all down, but then you heard the most GRATING ring you can imagine coming from your side. You recoiled at the sound and saw the monitors were frozen. The tablet on your side blinded you with harsh, white light. 

You squinted at the tablet, your head starting to hurt from the obnoxious, high pitch. You wanted it to stop. You shot from the chair, yanking the cords out of the device as it beeped at you for a password. On the screen, there was a crude image of two stick figures– an adult and a child. 

Eraser put a parental lock on the tablet.  

.

.

.

Taglist:

@lonelyghosts-stuff

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #mha x female reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x you #retrospective by dot #aizawa x y/n #bnha aizawa

[haru-chi]

-might have a little spoiler-

I won't call this a solid theory more than "what if" kind of scenario or some thoughts going on in my mind a bit ..

it's about Matoba Seiji ...

don't remember what actually triggered this idea but I wonder ..

was the Matoba leader before Seiji his father ? it's mostly yes but I don't remember this actually said outright anywhere before, was it mentioned it was his father ?

anyway, do you remember that one phrase that Seiji love to keep saying alot either to Natsume or Natori ??

I know Seiji hated mostly because of this line of thought and how he can be messed up when it comes to that ...

this whole scene got me thinking alot that I felt him saying this here followed by this ..

don't know about you but this whole scene and dialogues felt to me it holds more weight than it looks like .. it felt it has some deep personal meaning to him than it seems which is why that led Natori to ask that question, if he ever wanted to stop being an exorcist ...

now, what does that mean exactly ?? I thought alot and tried to understand the hidden meaning and unsaid words, but it never clicked, nothing did which led me losing my mind for a long time ><

not until we learned more about him and Shinobu in the current storyline and something clicked

Seiji is the younger while Shinobu the older right ? she should've been the future leader of the Matoba ... do you remember why she wasn't picked or favored as the next leader ??

it was because Seiji was more powerful than her, he has such a talent that she can never have that even though some believed she's better overall because Seiji is hard to control but for the future of the clan Seiji is the best choice in the end.

also, it might've been clear who's the leader fav child is if we hadn't heard about Shinobu till now and that little Seiji was talking about the leader taught him this and that sometimes.

"use the tools available. the capable get things done and those who can't should stay out of the way"

this line might actually be about him and his sister, something the Matoba leader before him taught him (his father mostly) which he followed through himself with his children.

he used them as mere tools for the future of the clan, at that time the clan was pretty weak and about to lose their position in the exorcist world. between the two only Seiji hold the key to give them the glory they sought again so no matter how good Shinobu was, no matter how hard she might've worked, all of that will never amount to anything. just because Seiji was far more powerful than her. Seiji having bad manner and attitude than her ? hard to control ? simple just fix it by teaching him. right ~

back then I couldn't fully grasp the meaning of his expression here, but now I feel I get it better. I mean if all his father taught him is using people as tool or how to be cruel and never care what other think (he used his own children as tools and Seiji experience it firsthand yaay) .. having a teacher who teach the true valuable things ?? such an option was never there for Seiji and never will at the time.

"How long is he going to continue to pretend to be normal ?"

Seiji was never normal because of his power and natural talent, he was bound by duty and have invisible chains on his life and true desire just because he was this powerful that he got used as a tool and by none other than his father and on top of all his sister hated him for it too.

on the other hand Natsume has the same power as him or far greater than him yet he's free and not shackles be this power of his unlike him.

this is a "what if" kind of random thought and ideas and we don't even have any kind of direct/indirect info so all of this is pure assumptions on my part. it refused to leave me ever since it clicked so why suffer alone, just thinking about Seiji and Shinobu is just yeaah -heavy sigh-

#natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #matoba seiji #I write this while my body is breaking down and my health suffering greatly #so don't mind me if nothing make any sense or have any mistakes #just ask me if nothing is clear :) #am I the only one who had such an idea ?? #I don't remember how it clicked but yeaaaah #I just love overthinking things huh #love making myself suffer #Seiji is just making me go crazy with anything related to him #this manga can be too much for me sometimes that I just thinking about it alot

[intotheabyssofunknown]

Tell me about your favorite character, Kaname. About his feelings, his personality, his sadness, his love, his relationship with Yuki, everything.

Sorry for the death . Tell you about Kaname, the more I talk about him , the more there is still more left to explore. So who is Kaname ,what does he feel , why he does the things he does , what is his relationship with yuki or his friends. I guess something like this .

For me Kaname is a man with a plan ,a very sad plan . He is selfless to a fault , most of the times, he was only been a little selfish when it comes to yuki , i mean to say that he is just someone who just doesn't live for himself , it's just the way yuki talked about him in chapter 90 , it's as if he wouldn't be allowed to exist if he didn't use him life for the sake of someone. Some might say a selfless person is someone who doesn't harm other, who doesn't manipulate others , but everything he ever did was not for himself, none of it was for himself, that I will have this, I will have that, it was all for yuki and at the end humans , if only he did things to achieve happiness , the one person I actually want to be happy from the bottom of my heart . He always puts himself in the second place , forget second perhaps the last . He is someone who will kill for the people he loves , die for them but alas he isn't ever able to live them .

His journey is fascinating to me . He is like a travelller who has travelled the ends of the earth and he has been alone for that amount of time. I won't say he didn't have moments of happiness, i think he must have had those few moments but he just lost them , it's like happiness escapes his fingers like grains of sand . He was a scared man who feels as if he ever desired anything, it's bad , it's dark . But how can there be a life without desire, he had them yet he couldn't act on them ,he suppressed them . It's like something you want , it's right in front of you but you just can't touch it. It's not like he was afraid of the light , perhaps he was afraid that he will corrupt the light , that's why he wanted yuki to stay away from vampire politics. And the kaname we see at the last , is a very very tired man , he has fought enough battles , he just couldn't fight anymore , how to say this , it's like a warrior isn't able to lift his own sword at the end of battle cause sword has become just that heavy , it's a very realistic thing that can happen to a warrior, Kaname was like that . He had grown weary of everything , that was the main theme of vampire knight , the loss of desire that comes with long life . I think latest chapter is actually a good way to talk about it , the more they live the harder it becomes to get rid of your impurities, so how can someone like that lead anyone , though I don't wanna agree with this ,but this is something that happens in real life . kaname's actions, his sadness , his rage , his despair, everything is realistic . Kaname and sadness , these two words are inseparable, he is a tragic king , all his life he had faced more tragedies than anyone , he has given more than anyone can. And sadness of his life , he has always been alone . It's like happiness always escapes his grasp.

He feels like autumn 🍁 if I compare him to a season , he is sweet , spicy and tangy if I think of flavours to describe him . It's not only his sufferings that makes him endearing, he is smart , he is strong yet weak . He isn't good neither is he evil , he is inbetween, he dwinldes at that line , his journey has left him scarred and wounded , he is a dreamer who dreams of peace, of a kind world where no one would be suffering because of vampires , cause he thought of his own kind to be cause of suffering, that's why he did what he did , to destroy the darkness along with himself. How do I say this , a very famous quote from Mahabharat, once a tree rots , you have to cut it or uproot it , before peace comes war , cause perhaps its war that makes us value peace and common day to day life ,it's sadness that gives meaning to happiness . He is chaos yet he feels like peace . He is madness of reasons . He is a sinner yet he is the victim. He is eternal yet he is just as fleeting ,like he can disappear any moment you let go. At the end of the day , he just wants to be normal yet the one that can't be granted to him 😭. He feels like he doesn't deserve that light but he does deserves all the light , he shouldn't just be the protector of light who lives in the dark , he deserves that warmth of light.

About his relationship with yuki , it's something very pure , yet something so complex , i find their relationship very beautiful and pure ( given that most of the time it doesn't look like that from my blog ) but they have given each other so much , warmth , love , commitment and thousands of years of love despite being apart , so I just don't understand how it happened like that between them . How can yuki move on like that , how did she fail to notice the warning signs , how did she not decide to stay with him. I like the little yuki and Kaname to be the best , how kaname loved her , taught her and encouraged her , how he fought with Haruka to let yuki be out , I loved those two . And it makes me wonder how Hino decided to end that in just one single chapter. Moreover I loved their eye to eye flirting in arc one , I loved yuki's bold attitude when it came to Kaname at times , I loved how she didn't want to give up on him , and I love the themes of forgiveness and acceptance between them. Though yuki has disappointed me a lot with her indecisiveness , still does and but I am still grateful for the fact that she gave kaname a second chance at life , she gave him a family though she never stays there , if she is there physically, mentally she is wandering somewhere else , now that her heart is here , physically she is gone. I wish she had stayed , just as a friend or a family member . I loved how yuki's spirit watching over Kaname . I cry at the scene where butterfly perches on Kaname's fingers which I have always felt like yuki coming to him as he once said butterflies are naturally attracted towards light . How her familiar watches his reunion with their daughters. So all in all , there are some aspects of their relationship that I just adore , still there are still some things that feels lacking. I fluctuate many times between liking yuki and not liking , but at this moment I am liking her cause she gave kaname the gift of life .

Kaname's impact on me ::

Kaname is and always be my favourite tragedy and someone I want to become happy from the bottom from my heart. He is like my muse , he is someone I want to do everything for , someone I want to have all the happiness and sorrows of normal everyday life .

There's a lot more to say about him , but I think I should stop now.

Thanks for the ask . I love talking about him and exploring more about him. ( truthfully I have written it a third time cause the first two times it got deleted 😭) .

#ask #my beautiful tragedy

[chaos-event-horizon]

The day after the beginning

Hazel-brown eyes blinked open, taking in the light of the sun as it only barely filtered through heavy blue curtains onto a bland, beige carpet floor. Confused, the owner of those eyes slowly blinked, flexing against the bundle of blanket that--

"So, you're awake."

Rian would have jumped from his skin if he wasn't swaddled up so tightly in what appeared to be a thread-bare old comforter. Instead, his eyes shot up, meeting the bright blue tones of the strange man who had saved him from the lab. Golden-blonde hair wildly exploded from his head, and his skin seemed flush and slightly damp.

He was so shocked and mesmerized by those eyes that he couldn't breathe.

"I'm glad. I was worried the shock would have you out for much longer..." The older man said, ripping his eyes away to look towards the window. "It's well past noon, just so you're aware. I took a shower while I waited... And had someone bring you clothes that are more likely to fit."

The young brunette slowly sat up. His throat was oddly sore, his voice coming out hoarsely. Presumably, he wasn't used to talking. The thought that others knew about his location didn't do much to help, either. "People... Know I'm here?"

"Another villain does, one of my underlings. He's incredibly loyal, and meticulous when it comes to finer details," the blonde said, pulling a bottle of water from a random pocket and setting it on the table near Rian. "He's currently readying a bigger hideout for us to relocate to. One that will have a room you can use. Part of his job within my organization is to handle these kinds of things for me."

He didn't know why, but Rian relaxed a little at that. It felt so safe to be here with this man.

"I..." Rian blushed, taking a sip of water before continuing. "I wanted to thank you again... For rescuing me."

The blonde paused, turning away slightly so the younger man couldn't see his face, though he kept glancing back towards Rian regardless. "... Don't misunderstand. It's not like I'm some kind of... Philanthropist that just goes around saving people in trouble, kid. There was something in it for me."

The brunette gave his hero savior a puzzled look, and the man continued, a soft grumble in his voice. "That lab you were in was built to gather information about me, and to help one of my enemies-- a man who can steal quirks. Saving you kept your quirk out of his grasp, and setting a few fires destroyed some of their dirt on me. It was an entirely selfish decision."

Those were the words the large man used... But the way he rubbed his neck and his refusal to make eye contact softened what was said.

He's... Embarrassed?

Rian looked down, hiding a smile. "Still... If that's the kind of thing you do while being selfish, I don't think you're as bad as you want people to believe."

The blonde gave a sharp chuckle. "If you say so, squirt. Either way, make no mistake... I was dangerous enough to kidnap you and get away with it. So don't go thinking I'm overly soft."

Rian fidgeted for a moment, then looked up. "M-Mister All Might--"

"Just All Might, no need to be formal."

"A-All Might... I can cook, and clean, and do laundry."

All Might blinked, turning fully towards the younger man now and giving him his full attention. "... Excuse me?"

"I can also do add jobs-- I know how to fix some things, like faucets, and I can patch up drywall..." He said, untangling himself from the blanket. If that loose shirt rode up or revealed anything, All Might didn't do more than stare, and Rian didn't notice as he continued speaking. "What I mean is, I can be useful. You mentioned letting me stay here, but I don't want to do it for free. I want to earn my keep, sir."

The blonde was quiet for a moment, then smirked. "Alright, then. First, go to the bathroom and get changed. Then we can figure out how you'll pay off your little life debt... Kitten."

Rian blushed, but quickly nodded, scurrying off to the bathroom he had been in last night, not catching the way his new boss started to reach for him as he trotted by... As if it was perfectly natural for them to touch as they passed by one another.

He also didn't notice the way said boss stared at his ass.

#smitespace #this counts as lore.

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

How is Robin's sense of self? Has it changed over the years, or does he still have good grasp on his identity? Has Abel influenced it at all?

═══ HEADCANON INQUIRIES ═══ LEAGUE VERSE

This is one of my favorite topics to explore with Robin (I probably say that a lot but I mean it) - its an incredibly deep dive that I'm happy you're interested in. It's also a part of Robin's character that I've been slowly inching my way into as I don't want it to come across as something sudden; it's a delicate subject matter that I truly want to capture in an accurate sense. There are so many repercussions of isolation by itself but also in relation to Robin's own traumas and physical condition?

He has practically lost what it means to be a person.

Something I, as a writer, have been dipping my toes into is really revamping Robin's character in terms of how much he genuinely lacks in terms of human interaction and how much his physical conditions impact his frame of mind. More recently I've been fiddling with the idea that Robin is, tecnically, a walking folklore or even a cryptid to the people of Ionia. He has too many weird attributes and if you describe him in a prose heavy way he immediately becomes horrifying; this is something I've been actively experimenting with in my threads with my mutuals and have noticed in a few other interactions. I'm not sure why I had never thought about it before, but I feel its quite a natural progression for him considering where he currently is.

Example; His words are not harsh as he stalks around the ronin, staring down at him with those horrifically wide eyes, the fire of the campside less a warm invitation and more a damning inferno within the reflection of his iris. Robin always did have that strange way about him, a strangely uneven splice of a man and something otherworldly. Perhaps he was now, simply something that never was supposed to return - a being who knew too much of what lay beyond, one who knew too much of what could be crawling within.

Example 2: The realization of a thief dawned upon the mage and he, with the slow creeping nature of an owl, rotated his blind gaze in the direction of the brush where the man hid. Irrefutably nightmarish was the hollow stare which locked onto the hiding jackal, one which screamed of death and horrific ends to all those foolish enough to steal from the land the mage had cultivated.

His condition erases more and more of him per day, and it plucks at his individualism as he merges further into the wildnerness of Ionia; he has no one to pull him from taking the same steps everyday. Much like how animals in nature practice the same motions from dawn to dusk - he is the same, he goes down the same paths, gathers the same berries and herbs etc. It can be easy to see how this has twisted his perception of himself; he gives himself "jobs" to do because it is his only way to see others and have a moment away from the mundane schedule of his life. He has always seen his worth in his work, every verse, every timeline - he is tied to what he can produce and without any interuptions he will never stop. And given that he no longer needs to eat or sleep anymore, he is consistently going without end. I imagine one of the only people to really tell him to slow down and stop would be @yanlei while he was with the Order of Shadows - perhaps one of the only people in his whole life to make him feel like a human being, instead of a workhorse, instead of a failure.

Even worse throughout all of this is how humans are cultivated and created through our memories, we are made from all of the little things throughout our lives. Big events, small events, every tiny little interaction changes our perception of ourselves and our lives. Robin is currently, and has been, gradually forgetting his life from before his murder; he hardly even remembers his family and they were his main driving force for everything he ever did. He remembers their names, how many siblings he had, how old they were...but their personalities are lost on him. Without those memories, what is he but the moss growing up the wall of his shack? How can he hope to ever properly heal without having the ability to open those memories back up and look at them with a fresh stare? What is left of life when the rest has gone?

His purpose in life is clear when there is a task; he knows little of who he is without it.

As for Abel he is a totally different story in and of itself. "Abel" originally formed when Robin was 15 years old and took over several spaces within his life that were empty. It became his mentor, his only "family" - even going as far as to use his father's voice from his memories, and it also taught him things he asked it to. Robin is acutely aware of Abel's nature and is generally mistrusting of it; however it has not lied to him even remotely as much as he believes. Abel taught him how to speak and how to navigate the deeper underbelly of Zaun that ROBIN WANTED TO GO INTO. Robin was disillusioned when he could not find the answers he wanted, and was arrogant enough to travel into a place of unethical work in order to try and find a solution to the loss of life tormenting him.

Abel simply gave Robin the tools in which he asked for, but every decision, every mistake, and every error was caused by Robin alone. Even in death, Bel pushes Robin to break his habits and find people to communicate with, it rewards him for it and offers him ways to heal but only HE can cause the change he wants to see and experience. Until he can find it within himself again that he is a human and not a beast within the woods, he will have moons for eyes, and a gait that follows the breeze swept through the trees - what comes after..? He has yet to see.

#mun speaks #headcanon inquiries #bells of black sunday #verse: league #i love these questions for robin #cut for length

[i-sveikata]

I am fascinated by your character of Tankhun. At first I liked him for his compassionate nature and pitied him for his own fate. But now his many facets become clear. He is a true son of his father. He uses his own feelings as well as those of others to manipulate. I believe he likes Pete and wants good for him but, like a good liar who mixes truth with lies, he nevertheless spins his intrigue also to Pete's detriment.

When Pete cries on his chest I could have shouted at him: Don't do this! Don't believe a word he says, not one more loving gesture, Pete!"

His character melts away like water between my hands. I can't grasp him. Is there anything tangible, real left in him?

oh thank you!!! yes all of that is true!!! we can contain multitudes!!! and tbh i wanted to show more of the complex side of Tankhun which i believe they hinted at a bit in the show but didnt explore as much as they could have!

like out of all the family he definitely presents as the nicest if a bit eccentric and i do think some of that can be a mask sometimes! he definitely likes pete and wants the best for him but he also wants to go after vegas and make him suffer a little. the only issue is trying to figure out how to do that without impacting pete.

oh no!! i mean youre totally right to be suspicious but i really dont see tankhun as that cruel. he's thoughtless at times and anxious and severely controlling of his bodyguards (i think as a coping mechanism to make him feel safe when hes been kidnapped and traumatised so many times tbh) but i do think in the heavy moments like that he cant help but be present and comfort pete with sincerity. which is partially why he took the initiative to tell kinn everything (because it was something that was continually hurting pete and the problem clearly wasnt going away otherwise).

i really like how you've described him here because i think thats an entirely significant part of his personality. like compare him to the rigidity of his bothers and his cousins, tankhun has learned to be fluid. to adapt and change within each situation mostly in distracting ways that can mask his intentions or the true feelings by hiding behind overly dramatic ones. i truly see that as a survival tactic because he doesnt seem to resort to physical violence or weapons like the others, this is his own kind of weapon if that makes sense. like it feels like when he's having his tantrums as a grown man in wonderful eye catching clothing everyone else around him can't help but feel embarrassed or cringe away from him or in kinn's case become extra patient and indulgent.

i think he learned to be loud like this because once they passed him over as heir everyone completely ignored him and he lost a lot of power and respect that had automatically belonged to him. i think he chooses such incredibly out there clothing because people cant help but see him when he walks into the room. everything about tankhun is an endless struggle in not being forgotten because though i think his family does somewhat understand him they truly havent tried to speak to him on a deep emotional level, havent made the attempt to meet him where his trauma is and thats especially sad. like it seems incredibly obvious to me that he needs help but the culturally accepted ideas around mental health and masculinity make it easier for everyone else to tuck tankhun out of the way instead. and thus make him try so much harder to be noticed.

ah thanks for your question that really made me think!

#fic asks #character study #on tankhun #trauma mention

[septembersghost]

sorry if someone mentioned this before but the "You make me happy" line reminds me of when they both got married, and saul was like "are you sure? i know this isnt what you imagined when you were 12" and. i think when it comes to love he is incapsulated in that innocence, bc no doubt when he said that he was referring to himself as well. this isnt what he imagined, if he ever had the pleasure, marrying kim would be like (man was probably imagining songbirds with ribbons over an arbor tbh) the whole lets get married, lets have a house and host movie nights and work together. its a similar innocence between him and chuck, that big-eyed admiration for his big brother. Him crying the hardest at his parents funeral. I feel like he is just so full of love that is,,, untainted and its his most redeeming quality and yet it is so out of his grasp

anon...i am clutching my heart at this message. this is such good analysis and you're so right, and i am SAD.

i didn't even think of that line of jimmy's when they got married, but there is definitely a parallel there, and jimmy has this sappy romantic (affectionate) aspect to him - those previous two dissolutions, i imagine, were not from relationships that were particularly long lasting or meaningful for him, and we certainly know the second one, uh, did not end well. i don't think he ever loved anyone the way he felt about kim, and that he wished they could've had the fancy wedding with the flowers and the cake and the dance floor. "man was probably imagining songbirds with ribbons over an arbor tbh" CRYING this is accurate. in jimmy's perfect world, i think he would've gotten down on one knee and given her a ring and then swept her off to their ranch house. this man doodled their initials together like a girl with a crush and a glitter pen. he wanted to work in the same office with her because he valued her and never tired of spending time with her. he dreamed of them having a house together, sharing a warm space and a life. seeing her was the highlight of his day, every day. it's why he can't fathom the concept of her being bad for him - i wouldn't even say he unfairly put her on a pedestal per se, because it's not like other women who've gotten that treatment in stories, who maybe aren't seen as whole people, he never undermined her agency. he admired her and felt such happiness with her that it could only be his fault if it went wrong. the one fight where he gets unfairly angry and accuses her of rolling around in the mud with him when she gets bored is total self-loathing projection and grief/guilt-laden chuck issues much less than it is a reflection of how he feels about her. (the saddest part is, that argument, in jimmy's fractured perspective, probably just became true.) the way he looks at her when they get married says everything. it doesn't matter where they are, it doesn't matter that maybe it isn't the fantasy, having her at all is the dream. there is an innocence and earnestness in that. there's a hopefulness in his desire for an office and a home. he yearns for that, for that one safe place.

and he was like that with chuck too! he respected chuck, he craved his acceptance. he wanted to work with him. "big-eyed admiration" totally. :( it showed in how he took care of chuck too, making sure he had everything he needed, defending him to doctors and colleagues alike. (howard making himself the heavy at chuck's behest and getting involved in the middle is part of why this all played out as horrifically as it did.) jimmy has a certain caregiving instinct. chuck rejecting jimmy is damaging in such an acute way that jimmy never even fully processes it. anything from, "you're not a real lawyer!" ... "i thought you were proud of me," to those horrible last words, they scar him indelibly.

wanting to snap his fingers and fix things with his mom in the hospital, crying the hardest at his dad's funeral, all of that is genuine, despite his many faults and mistakes. he may have that inclination to scam and to slip, but his emotions are very real, and the love in him is maybe the realest thing about him. the purest thing. and when there was nowhere else for it to go, he gave it all to kim.

"I feel like he is just so full of love that is,,, untainted and its his most redeeming quality and yet it is so out of his grasp" 100% agree and you phrased this beautifully and it makes for such captivating, empathetic tragedy. what's more human than wanting to be seen for all you are and accepted anyway, to love and be loved? what's more aching than constantly losing it, and losing more of yourself each time it slips away?

#jimmy mcgill #this hurt me but i thank you for sending it #better call saul #bcs spoilers #anonymous #letterbox

[random-content-from-4by22]

jatchet shippers, come get yo food

(vampire Jak, here we go. Be warned, there might be a lil bit of spicy stuff. Enjoy)

"what's it like?" 

"Hm?" Jak asked, looking over at Ratchet, who was right beside him. His face barely illuminated by in the small candlelight. Ratchet rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes looking away from Jak's.

"The whole...staring thing, that your able to do...what's it like? Do people really lose sense of, I don't know, everything?" The lombax asked.

Jak thought for a moment, the rain outside calming, before taking a deep breath. "Yes, those who's eyes I stare into do lose sense of everything, but that's not all a vampire glance can do. It can make the person's head feel light, lost in the moment, like a good moment that you forget when you try to grasp it but the feeling remains. It also leaves room for...well..." Jak ran his hand through his hair, exhaling as he tried to think of the right words. "It leaves room for a vampire to plant a feeling of pure bliss, ecstasy, even, in their victims as they feed on them." 

Ratchet nodded. And then there was silence. Nothing but the sound of rain on the roof, the light of the candle, and the warmth the blankets brought tonight. Ratchet looked over at his partner again, a hand on Jak's. "Do you think...we could do it?" 

Jak was shocked by this. Why? Why would Ratchet ask this?

Ratchet sighed. "Jak, you haven't fed on anything for two days. You keep trying to avoid me when the hunger kicks in. I...I just want to help." He said honestly.

Jak wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't want to hurt him. Truly. But the need had been overwhelming and if he didn't get it out soon it would consume him.

"I...don't want to hurt you." Jak whispered, tears threatening to surface. Ratchet cupped Jak's face and placed a gently kiss on his forehead. "Hey, I know...I know you don't. But I also know you won't." Ratchet whispered with confidence.

Jak chuckled. Placing a hand under the lombax's chin, gently making him look at him. "You sure do have a lot of confidence I won't suck you dry, Babe."  Ratchet laughed. "Yes. I sure do...so...what happens now?" Jak smiled, "let's do a little test..." He said, making Ratchet stare into his emerald eyes. "Shall we?"

 Ratchet felt his face heat up, his mind already getting lost in his partners gaze. 'I feel...so light.' Ratchet thought, as Jak slowly inched closer, Ratchet doing the same as the hypnosis started taking effect. 'My vision is going black...it feels like...my body has turned numb...everything seems so calm...and quiet...I feel so relaxed...' God, he could barely think, only stare into his partners eyes as they kissed.

He loved him so much it ached. He loved the way Jak held onto him when he came down off the high, the way he held him close at night whenever he went home. And god he had never wanted more than this.

And suddenly it wasn't a dream. They were kissing and holding each other tightly.

Soon, they had parted and Ratchet could already feel Jak's warm breath on his neck as he moved and held him. Everything touch feeling like a small bolt of lightning.

And then Jak bit down. Fangs sinking into Ratchet's flesh. It didn't hurt. A small pain at the start that soon evaporated into something more. More pleasurable. More wonderful.

It felt as though it lasted forever, as though nothing could ever be better than what just happened.

The lombax felt his eyelids flutter, small gasps and squeaks escaping him as Jak drank his blood. The sensation felt amazing. As though his entire body just melted, his muscles relaxing and becoming soft. He felt weak all over, his legs unable to hold himself up anymore, as every part of him seemed to become heavy, as his mind felt foggy. All thoughts were forgotten. Just the feeling of Jak's lips around his neck, feeding off of him, the taste of his blood.

Everything felt like it was going away, as though nothing else mattered, and in that moment all that mattered was Jak.

Jak felt Ratchet shiver beneath him as he felt his body go limp, his own heart beating so fast, as though it wouldn' t survive without his love. So many feelings and so many urges.

And Jak did not want to let go. He wanted to savor this moment. He wanted to remember it for eternity. He wanted to remember all these emotions until he died.

As his mouth pulled back from the lombax's neck, he saw the other's eyes flutter open, and then shut. A smile pulling at his lips. "That was...amazing."Jak grinned. "Yeah," he said softly, before pressing another kiss to Ratchet's skin, before lowering the lombax onto the mattress underneath him, still holding him. "Come on, sleep now." He muttered as he lay down next to the other.

Ratchet stared into his partner's eyes, feeling the effects of the thirst, and then closed his eyes, falling asleep quickly.

"I love you." The lombax had whispered.

 Jak stared at his sleeping love in his arms. He was so peaceful, so at ease. Jak wanted to stay like that with him forever. Forever with him. Forever in love with him. Forever together. Jak leaned forward and planted a kiss against the lombax's cheek, whispering one final time, "I love you too."

#Vampire! Jak #Ratchet #Jak #Ratchet and Clank #Jak and Daxter #Crossover shipping #Haha lol #Jatchet #Jakrat #Ratjak #Jak X Ratchet #help #oof #Ratchet X Jak #Mmm spicy

[lettersfromandie]

#JanuaryInJapan: 5 Japanese Books I Read in January

Ever since I started watching anime avidly last year, I gradually became more interested with Japanese culture. It began with just consuming anime, then reading mangas, later developed into being curious to learning Nihongo, and now I'm at that phase where I want to tuck myself with books written by Japanese authors.

Besides that, my 2021 new year's resolution is to read more books. At the same time, I also want to diversify my reading selection. So if I'm interested in Japanese culture and also wish to venture outside the YA genre, there's all the more reason to add books to my cart, right? 😅

Thus far, it's been a great start in accomplishing my new year's resolution since I had read 7 ½ books this month! (The ½ is a novel that I paused on reading last year and read again where I left off.) And five of those are Japanese books that I'm going to share in this blog post.

So for the bookworms out there, this one's for you.

1. Rashomon and Seventeen Other Stories by Ryunosuke Akutagawa (translated by Jay Rubin)

Rashomon and Seventeen Other Stories is a collection of Akutagawa's short stories and autobiographical writings. It contains 18 works (including the famous Spider Thread, Rashomon, and The Life of a Stupid Man) and is divided into four parts: A World in Decay, Under the Sword, Modern Tragicomedy, and my favorite part, Akutagawa's Own Story, in which his works are based from his personal life.

Apart from just reading, I also wanted to "study" since I believe it's the only way to be able to comprehend more his writings. Luckily, the copy I got is kind of like a study material too. It is full of notes and indices which I super appreciate. If it weren't for those added information in the book, I think I'd merely understand words in their face value. I think it's hard to grasp the message and what the words imply if you don't, in one way or another, "study" it. That's why I'm so happy that I bought a really good copy from Fully Booked even if it's worth two books. Lol.

If you want to delve right into Japanese lit, it would be perfect to consume works from one of the most notable Japanese writers. Even Haruki Murakami wrote an 18-page introduction about him in this one. If you do, I think you'll find one story familiar (at least to me that was my reaction, I didn't know it was Akutagawa who wrote it 😉). 

2. The Setting Sun by Osamu Dazai (translated by Donald Keene)

It follows a story of a Japanese aristocratic family in crisis and decline during Japan's transition after the Second World War. It is narrated by the family's daughter, Kazuko, who struggles in the midst of fragile existence with her ill mother and drug-addicted brother.

There is something about Japanese literature that will always make me feel that bittersweet emotion even in the presence of serious social themes. At first I thought I'll be diving myself into a social science reading material and geek about Post-World War II Japan. Little did I know that I would end up shedding tears (which is my usual reaction whenever I consume a deeply moving material). What I most especially loved in this book is the protagonist's letters to her "M.C.". It warmed my heart how genuine and unapologetic she was in writing her feelings and sentiments. Grabe. I am incredibly in love with her honesty and sincerity, that I wish I'd be able to write letters as beautiful as hers. Overall I am amazed by how Dazai can effortlessly write an utterly sublime story describing the challenges of human existence. I finished it in one sitting so it wasn't a heavy read. Definitely recommend.

3. The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa (translated by Stephen Snyder)

This dystopian novel takes place in a surveillanced island where people, and even things, are controlled by the Memory Police. From time to time, things disappear in the island and along with these disappearances, people also 'forget' about them. The Memory Police makes sure that these objects are completely vanished from the island and eradicate people who continue to remember them. The story follows on a female novelist whose editor, R, is one of those who are still capable of remembering the disappeared objects. Together with the help of an old man, she tries to help R hide away from the Memory Police.

Sci-fi/dystopian novels are scary because it is possible that they can happen in the future, whether we think it now as far-fetched or not. But this one gave me a different feeling. It is terrifying, but beautiful. Terrifying in a sense that its totalitarian-like setting is evident in today's milieu in different parts of the globe. I don't wish for the events to happen in real life, even if disappearing objects are too dreamy to think that it could possibly happen in this world (the future is uncertain, but hopefully not). However, it is also beautiful because of its writing. It is so compelling that no matter how depressing it is when an object disappears, the writer describes it as if it has its own funeral. I love how a vanishing moment, a short inkling, a lost attachment, can be described so exquisitely, that I can't ever forget how deeply moved I was while reading it. The ending made me want to blankly stare at the wall for a long time because it tugged my heart SO MUCH :'-) As of this post, I think this is my favorite book. HIGHLY recommend.

4. Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami (translated by Philip Gabriel)

Kafka on the Shore revolves around two interrelated plots of two characters: a teenage boy named Kafka, who runs away from home trying to escape his father's "curse" similar to Oedipus myth; and a not-so-bright old man named Nakata, who is able to talk to cats and is in search for something.

Personally I did not enjoy the book as much as I had expected (like I super had high expectations for myself with this), and it's probably because the explicit content still lingered in my thoughts even if I'm already reading a rated-G page. By explicit content, I mean the "Oedipus myth" concept involved in the story. If you're familiar about the story of Oedipus, then I guess you already know what to expect in this novel... So, this novel isn't necessarily for everyone's consumption and it's not something I want to recommend in general. However, if that hadn't made me uncomfy, then I think I would've really loved it. I still enjoyed the journey of the two protagonists in the story though. Haruki Murakami said himself that the Oedipus myth contained in the story isn't really the main point -- that there's so much deeper sense and meaning to the story. He also said that it is full of riddles and you get to really understand it once you read it more than once (but I still have a lot of TBR so I only read it once hihi). I mean, Jenn Im, a Youtuber and book enthusiast, has it as one of her favorite books and even recommended it as a must-read. PewDiePie also found it disturbing but still gave it a 4/5 rating regardless. So I guess, to each their own. I'm just saying that it's a good book but you might find some parts disturbing.

5. The Ten Loves of Mr. Nishino by Hiromi Kawakami (translated by Allison Markin Powell)

Yukihiko Nishino hopelessly falls in love and in love again. It is divided into ten parts - representing different stories from the ten women that Nishino has loved over the course of his life.

"If you like Haruki Murakami and Yoko Ogawa, it's a safe bet that you'll love The Ten Loves of Nishino" this was printed on an alternative cover of this book. It piqued my interest because I admire Murakami's unique and magical realm and Ogawa's captivating writing style, so I thought that it was the perfect book to have a light read on.

I loved how Hiromi Kawakami described Nishino through the eyes of her love interests. Albeit the story is fragmented by the different experiences of the women in Nishino's past, these different stories aggregate to the conclusion that he is a hopeless romantic, but has a hard time committing to a solid relationship since he can't even decipher his feelings (let alone understand what love is). But even if we already presume that he is a "womanizer" (which is kinda obvious from the title itself), it'd still be interesting to know who he is from whom he "womanized" (similar as being curious on what other people think of us). Most would say na, "Ah, pakboi." Lol. But what if that's not the kind of person he is to one of his loves ? Nevertheless, I enjoy this style of storytelling wherein different point-of-views are integrated. Though personally not so thought-provoking, it succeeded in making me tear up 😢 Because no matter how he is labeled as a ladykiller, I still feel sorry for him. And more so wish him well, even if he's just a fictional character.

So that's it for this month's #JanuaryinJapan! I'm happy that these books compelled me to read more Japanese literary fiction. I wholeheartedly love the subtleties, imagery, and the uniquely-composed narratives in Japanese literature; so I am looking forward to relish more 💗

Love, Andie

#books