#I don’t like Garou anymore :((((( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

garoumylove · 2 years

Text

Golden Hour

I’m writing this new ❤️GarouxReader❤️ but told from Garou’s point of view! I’m having a lot of fun with it! I would say it’s rated Mature/Explicit and involves him developing a relationship with an older woman, age unspecified. Just someone adult enough to live on their own and confidently hold down a full time office job.

This is Part 1, which you can also read here on AO3 :)

~*~

I don’t know how it happened. Or why.

It seems inevitable now as I lie on her chest, the softness of her breast against me. Fuck. This time of day always gets me. That time between afternoon and evening. What she calls the golden hour. I feel her chest rise and fall slowly under me, have to fight hard to not fall asleep. But her scent…especially after this, after I’ve had her all to myself…That warm scent clinging to her skin makes staying awake a fucking mission.

I don’t know how it happened. Or why.

I remember that one night. How long she had been there before that, I don’t know. So close and yet non-existent by my own obliviousness.

And after that, she was there every day. Unavoidable glimpses, footsteps across the street. Always the same white shirts, little skirts, heels, coming back in the deceptive golden hour light from wherever she spent her day.

She’d pass by, and never once would turn in the direction of this shitty place and yet. She made it clear, her body made it clear, she knew I was there. Just the faintest curl of her lip into that knowing smile, like on that one night.

It was two in the morning, or maybe three. Can’t fucking remember anymore. Was too busy bandaging up after getting back from a…walk. The power was off. Again. But standing next to the window, the streetlight hit just right, just enough, like a match lit in a dark room. The whole street asleep. Spitting out the cotton edges of a length of bandage, the gauze tightening around the wound which had already started to heal. Just then, another little match lit up.

I remember lookin’ up. The window across the street. Just a faint light in the uncurtained window. Someone’s soft night light. Someone joining me in my lack of sleep, though I was ready to head there.

At first nothing. Just the outline of a bedroom. A frame on the wall. A small set of shelves. Nothin’ at all to hold my interest. A piece of cotton still on my tongue, about to be spit out, and the smell of blood growing fainter. But then a hazy shadow on the orange glow of the wall. Arms above head, stripping off quickly and then a figure passing by, a flash, in the window. The face turning and catching me, pausing.

That distance. A road, barely wide enough, a condensed street.

She stood there, the moment stretching into a torturous eternity. Her night light behind her, the street light in front, illuminating her body. I remember, her hand quickly going for the curtain. But then that moment. She gave me that moment. Standing there in all her naked glory, her lip curling into a playful smile, as if indulging a wayward kid. And I remember looking up at her window, across the street, behind glass, a whole world away…and yet, I could almost feel the softness of her bare breasts, the heat of her body, outlining its curves in my mind.

In the blackness of that night, she gave me that moment.

And probably thought nothing of it.

And pulled the curtains shut.

And there ain’t no way there was any sleep left for me that night.

I can feel her hands resting on my back, her fingers run up and down slowly every once in a while, softly checking for new scars, new bruises. She’ll be proud there ain’t none. Not today. Other days…Can’t say the same.

She whispers something and goddamn I wish I could hear it properly but I ain’t slept in a while and her words sound far away. And her scent…

It ain’t like I kept a lookout every day, but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t look out that window every once in a while, at two or three in the morning, hoping to get another moment.

That body, that vision. Her complete knowledge of me and complete refusal to acknowledge me. That smile, that little superior smile, every time she passed by on her way home. She was playing with me in a way no one had. And to her, I was just a game.

She clearly had much more important things to think about and I was a pleasant distracting pastime. Long forgotten as soon as she passed the property line, as soon as she opened the door to her own pretty little house and disappeared inside into her own world.

And then golden hour came earlier and earlier. The night falling quickly, the air growing colder. Not that it stopped me ‘finding trouble’ as she would call it. And by the time I got home, I’d hardly feel the drop in temperature, falling into that cold bed much too ecstatic, the bandages soon forgotten, unneeded, because victory became more and more inevitable.

There ain’t no way I can go. There ain’t no fucking way. But that evening, she makes her way down the street. And for the first time, there’s a pause. Almost unnoticeable, outside my window. She turns towards me for the first time and just gives me an expectant look before carrying on towards her front door. And there ain’t no helping me now.

And then I got my moment. Unexpected as hell.

I remember the rush hour noise pissed me off. Usually, I’d still be asleep at this hour. Let the world get on with its useless business. But I had a fight to pick at a particular time and place. Too many fucking people crowding the street corner down the block, waiting for the traffic light and like fuck I was goin’ to wait around with them but then those words, right behind me pull me back. And without seeing, I know exactly who it belongs to.

“Your power is off again, huh?”

I turn. She stands there, nonchalant as anything. That white shirt, little skirt, covered in an open coat, neat rounded briefcase in hand.

And her scent… Finally, I learn her scent.

“Don’t remember the last time it was on,” I say.

She gives a little, adult laugh. Oh this boy.

The traffic light goes off, that sound, annoying the fuck out of me. Everyone starts to move.

“Come over tonight,” she says, walking right past. “At least eat one proper meal.”

And she walks on, without turning. Confident in herself, not needing my answer.

She swings open her door, wearing what she came home in and a colourful apron. Little jewels in her ears, her pinned hair and this apron.

She pulls me inside, shutting the door quickly, admonishing me for letting the heat out and going back into the kitchen, expecting me to follow.

This house. This house is warm and filled with the smell of her. Like I’ve been let it on a secret. Despite her open invitation, I am an intrusion.

“What…want…dinner…?” I can barely make out the words as my fingers play with her still-hard little nipple right in front of me as I feel myself drift off. Dinner? I don’t fuckin’ care, light of my fucked up life. I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me…

“Sit down,” she says, laughing, pointing to the small dining table. I must’ve looked like a fucking idiot, gawking around. She’s only the width of a street away but this place might be a whole other universe. Everything tidy and…elegant. Things arranged on shelves, and art I didn’t, and still don’t, understand on the wall.

She reaches for her phone to turn down the music playing somewhere from her little living room. It ain’t familiar to me. She tells me it’s Mozart and that she finds it relaxing after work. There’s something I find relaxin’ too after I get home…but it ain’t Mozart and it probably wouldn’t be too polite to mention what it is. Turns out, she’d find out soon enough anyway.

“I hope you like pasta,” she says, as she has at least two pots on the stove going.

“I’ve had worse,” I say, prepared to eat whatever she fuck she puts in front of me and then ask for more, still not quite believing she let a…what was it they called me when they expelled me?…Delinquent. Yeah. I grin to myself. Fucking delinquent. Still not quite believing she let a delinquent like me inside.

“Smart ass,” she says, turning over her shoulder, a sparkle in her eye. “What’s your name?”

“Whatever you want it to be,” I say. This mouth often runs without my permission.

She narrows her laughing eyes at me. I tell her the truth.

“Hungry wolf?” she raises an eyebrow, thinking of the kanji in her head. “Your parents must’ve been wild, huh.”

Ah, who the fuck knows. Ain’t like I seen either of them for…how long has it been now?

“Sorry.”

That catches me off guard.

“Eh? For what?”

“Didn’t mean to pry,” she says, turning back to the stove like she’s seen something she’s not supposed to and I’m fuckin’ confused.

She tells me her name and I turn it over in my mind. It suits her. Now, when I look at her, back to me, crisp white shirt, tight little skirt, I have a name for that body that keeps torturing me. I have a name for her mischievous eyes.

I can feel her hands travel up my back, caress the back of my neck, her fingers slip into my hair, raking gently. She knows how to get to me, knows how to do these things to me…render me completely powerless. It’s fucking ecstasy. Fuckin’ heaven when she sighs, loving her breasts played with, never getting enough. Just like I can’t get enough of her. Even now…even after what we’ve just done…I can feel my arm tighten around her as my eyes close. No. Fuck, not yet…

She sets the plate down in front of me, then her own, across from me.

I don’t think I’ve smelled anything so fucking delicious and edible in a goddamn age and now I gotta remember to be polite even though I’m fucking ravenous.

She sticks her fork into the long strings of pasta daintily before stopping and looking at me.

“Just eat,” she almost snorts with laughter. “You’re starving. Go on, make a mess. I won’t get mad I promise,” she winks. “In fact, I’ll give you seconds.”

Well, don’t fucking mind if I do then.

And all I can think about is how good this fucking is. Hot and so fucking good. I’m probably eating like I’ll never be fed in this lifetime again but I don’t give a shit. It’s an animal instinct. I forget everything else. Hunger will do that to a person. And she keeps true to her word. Has a second plate ready right as I finish the first.

She doesn’t watch me devour her meal, busying herself in the kitchen behind me as I finish this unfamiliar, exquisite thing.

She comes back to sit across from me, apron gone now. Just her familiar outfit. And it all comes rushing back to me. That night.

How the fuck do you look at, talk to someone you’ve seen half-naked? Seen and wanted. Seen and wanted and…

But she seems not to be bothered by any of that at all.

“Wolf cub,” she says, leaning a little forward, unaware of how her breasts push up, make themselves more visible in the neckline of her shirt and I gotta keep my eyes straight, “you really do live alone, don’t you?” Despite the nickname there, her voice is coming from a place of genuine concern. It bothers me, agitates me and I gotta calm myself down. Remind myself there’s no pity in her words.

“Define alone,” I say. Because sometimes the police comes to visit. And then that old man and his check ups, for fuck’s sake.

She’s not impressed.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” I say, innocent as can be.

“I don’t know how you’ve managed to survive and still be in that shape,” she paints me up and down with her pretty pointed finger, indicating she’s is impressed, “but seriously…”

She wants to say something about being concerned. I know because they all fucking do, but to my pleasant surprise holds back, treating me almost as an equal. Almost.

“But I’ve survived ain’t I?” I grin at her. That’s all that matters, don’t it?

“At least,” she says, getting up out of the chair again and going down the short hallway before coming back with a towel, “go take a warm shower,” she finishes, pushing the big, soft thing at me, putting the threadbare towels back home to shame.

Fuck that sounds so tempting…and my mind starts wandering…what if she got in there with me? I’m about to offer but manage to stop my mouth before it ruins the evening.

“Just go,” she says, mistaking my private fantasy for polite hesitation, letting the towel go, forcing me to catch it.

She shows me to her bathroom, small and neat like the rest of this house, and goes back out, turning the TV on.

Fine. Two minutes. That’s all I need.

She’s got her little bottles of this and that lined up on the glass shelf. I don’t know what the hell they’re all for and why she needs so many. There’s soap and that’s good enough, ain’t it?

This soap, it smells a bit like her. She’s in this shower every night, washing herself with this. I imagine the bubbles on her bare skin, on her breasts…on that body I got for a moment.

Fuckin’ thoughts. I look down.

Fuckin’. Thoughts.

This ain’t the time or the place.

Shit and it’s been longer than two minutes now. But the water is hot and feels so fucking good. I don’t even remember what hot water feels like.

No. That’s enough. Can’t be fucking indulging myself. It’s just a goddamn shower.

I come out of the bathroom, hoping to take my leave unnoticed but where the fuck do I put this thing?

She appears as if out of nowhere, taking the towel out of my hands.

“You’ll catch a cold with that wet mane of yours,” she says and throws it over my head, scruffing it up, trying to get me as dry as possible.

“I ain’t had a cold since I was six,” I say, and it ain’t a lie, as she pats the thick towel over my hair.

She pulls it off and tries hard not to laugh as she stares up at me.

“Little savage,” she says, affectionately as she runs her hands through the damp fucking mess that must be my hair right now.

“Can’t help it,” I say, wishing she’d never stop, wanting to feel her hands on me again, even if it is through what seems like two inches of fabric, “raised by wolves.”

“Right,” she says, not buying it one bit. “I guess you’re itching to get away,” she says, folding the towel over her arm.

No. Not at fucking all. But…

“Come over again sometime, wolf cub,” she offers and there seems to be nothing but kindness in her words. “Next time you’re hungry.”

But I can’t take advantage of that.

I can’t say yes. But I can’t say no.

I try to memorise it all at speed. The way she looks under this dim yellow light, her scent, the taste of her cooking, the warmth of her house. Etch it, carve it, into my memory, knowing I’ll never be here again. This evening just some weird, unexpected twist of fate, never to be repeated.

“Good night,” she says, standing in the doorway, wrapping her arms around her against the cold which I barely feel, my mind still too full of her. And there are still those shower thoughts to take care of.

I give her words a salute and she gives a laughing smile and salutes me back before going back inside.

And I have a feeling I’ll never see her again.

#he's in love or at least in lust #garou #garou one punch man #opm #one punch man #garou fanfiction #opm fanfiction #x reader #xreader #garouxreader #garou x reader #reader insert

18 notes · View notes

omalahsocs · 2 years

Text

Jack’s eyes were dull as he played with the book of matches. Not even striking any, simply turning it over and over in his fingers, opening and closing it without thinking. He looked up at his cousin, chained to the wall and waited until she stopped struggling against her bounds so he could talk to her properly.

“Do you remember Kat?” He asked quietly, taking out a match and twirling it between his fingers. “I would hope that you do, I mean, considering that you killed her.”

“I didn’t kill Kat.” Siobhan spit the words out, shivering in the cold of the cellar.

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” Jack lifted his gaze up slight. “But you did. You tormented her for as long as I can remember. Humiliated her in front of the family. Made her miserable when she could have been happy. Mother wanted -her- to be the next matriarch.”

His cousin’s lip curled in a perfect imitation of a beast that they both used to hunt. His chest moved, though he wasn’t breathing anymore, just a leftover of muscle memory that his unlife hadn’t gotten rid of just yet.

“Honestly, I could even believe that you didn’t mean it at first. That you were just a jealous little girl. But you never stopped.” Jack struck the match and watched as it burned down to his fingers, shaking it out just in time for it to not burn his skin.”You hated that she was getting attention for something and you weren’t. You didn’t even know what a matriarch was at that point, I think. But you know Kat was getting extra training. That mother was testing her. And you did everything you could to get in the way. Selfish little bitch that you are.”

He swallowed and shook his head, shuddering as he let the spent match drop and started to fuss with the match box again. Nervous habit, or just needed something to keep his hands from ripping into her. Now was time for talk. She needed to know why he was doing this.

“She was probably the -only- good thing about our family. She -should- have been the matriarch. But you bullied her down, wore at her confidence till she was in tears every night. Cut her -hair- while she was sleeping. And don’t think we didn’t figure out that it was you. I know you blamed it on Sarah. But Sarah always listened to -you-.”

“It was just hair.” Siobhan muttered sullenly.

“And it was just a sparring match when you broke her arm.” Jack replied coldly. “You thought I forgot that? Or about how her clothes kept getting ruined?”

“Mother never cared about what happened.” His cousin started to smirk.

“And believe me, she’ll eventually get hers coming to her. But right now we’re talking about what you did wrong. How you bullied and abused the one golden light in our family until she died. Until you murdered her.”

“I didn’t kill her, she killed herself!”

“She died trying to get away from -you-.” Jack stood up slowly, his form seeming to take up the room as shadows thrummed around him. “She cried so much and all I could do was hold her, promise that I’d be there for her. But I was more of a kid than she was then. But I’m not a kid now and I have to ask... what was it you said to mother?”

His cousin looked at him warily and pushed her back up against the wall, not answering him.

“What did you say to mother, to convince her to send us out that day?”

“It was an accident.” Siobhan glanced to the side, starting to shake with more than just the cold. “She was just... supposed to get hurt. Maybe get a few scars.”

“Yeah... you probably didn’t expect her to throw herself at a Garou to get away from your torment.” Jack hissed. “But I refuse to believe you’re stupid enough to think that a 15 year old girl would have been able to get away unscathed. Specially not when she was looking after a 10 year old boy.”

He put the matches into his pocket and turned away from her, his fangs starting to ache, the Beast thrumming in his mind and soul, demanding that he take the life from her the way that she took it from Kat.

“I’m going to get something to eat..” He murmured and reached for the light, turning it off. “Play nice with the rats till I get back, cousin..”

#vtm #Jack things #abuse #suicide #vampires #drabble #mun writes

2 notes · View notes

aforrestofstuff · 3 years

Text

Chapter 149 Expert Review Time

Hey gamers what’s up time for another CHAPTER 👏 REVIEW 👏

It was looking kinda bleak last time for pretty much everyone so I’m hoping things improved this time around, but it seems Murata and ONE are kinda going through their “I’m going to put my characters through the MOST” phase so… that feels unlikely. But nevertheless… still excited to see my favorite boys.

The 10000th Psychic Sister cover. Murata, I’m begging you. There’s literally like 30 other characters to choose from. I know you like drawing boobs but imma need you to put the pencil down for a minute and take a walk because this just ain’t IT.

“Summer is coming” it is July. Summer has been here for ten years. I’m so fucking hot all the time. Everything has been evaporated out of me and I’m literally a raisin.

The Psychic Sisters covers are just so devoid of life a lot of the time… I wouldn’t mind if it was them fighting or engaging in everyday activities but when they’re posed for the camera and deliberately placed there to look sexy it just sucks all the human out of them. The cover/splash page is a great chance to show characters in a new light!!! It’s mostly set away from the story so you can do whatever you want! Choosing to make 80 fanservice covers is just wasted opportunity for what could be additional character development. It’s gotten to a point where even the smegma-slinging bitchboys on Reddit are complaining about the excessive sexy covers…. When PussySlayer384756 complains that there’s too much tittage being shown, that’s how you KNOW we’ve got a problem. Now, idk how the fan climate is in Japan but I can’t imagine they’re feeling much different over there either.

Also, her anatomy is… janky. Her tit is bigger than her head, her belly is too long, and she’s got like 4 spare ribs. Like, I’m by no means an art expert but it doesn’t take a chef to know the soup is shit, you know what I mean? I feel like page after page of Murata drawing obscene muscle men has made him rusty on what should be (somewhat) normal-looking people.

Darkshine learns what TRUE peak male performance looks like.

You’ve gotta wonder how Darkshine even got to the S-Class to begin with when he pussies out of nearly every single fight… except the one where the opponent was literal water. Everyone says that he just joined the association for additional validation, and I believe it… this boy is not cut out for actual hero-ing. 99% Of the time HE’S the one who needs a hero.

It kinda bothers me how useless he’s been post-Garou fight, especially when we spent like an entire chapter trying to console his ass. I get that’s part of his character and development… but it’s begun to slow things down. We get it. We don’t need to see him be insecure every time a new enemy pops up. One was enough. We would’ve gotten the same effect if he just sat out the entire time post-consolation, because everything that’s happened to him on the surface has been kinda redundant.

Here comes the boooyyy 🎶🎶

Nice callback. I’m glad Metal Bat is finally here. Bitch runs slow as fuck.

It’s nice to see him act on his own agency instead of orders from the hero association. He’s clearly much happier when helping out on his own accord, and has a ton of initiative too. The chapter he got with just he and King meeting up and slingshotting themselves to the fight was really a breath of fresh air from all of the fighting. It’s moments like these where ONE remembers that people like OPM for the characters, and not necessarily the pretty action sequences. I really like this duo. I like Metal Bat. I like it when they’re given time to be themselves and not just vessels for the next fight scene.

I know I said I wanted the heroes to die but Murata I’m begging you please don’t kill the child. You can kill Puri, though. I hate that fucker.

Child Emperor regularly visiting and eating with Bofoi even despite being his lab assistant would be a lot cuter if Bofoi wasn’t the human equivalent to a dog turd. I might’ve overstated that… seems like Bofoi is just using him as an errand boy. The clear lack of respect he has for CE is very indicative of his character and is not necessarily a bad thing plot-wise, but I would still like to beat him with a cane. Additionally, it’s clear that he’s not going to help the heroes here. At least, I don’t think so. His “fuck them kids” attitude seems to be a pretty big pillar in the building of his character and I doubt ONE would jeopardize that just because he’s written himself into a corner. Oh, well. We’ll see.

It’s very sweet that even when near death, CE still thinks of Zombieman. Aaaaghh it’s so GOOD when the characters actually LIKE each other. I know realistically not everyone is gonna be friends but man… it would be a lot cooler if we got more insight on their chemistry. Pleaz have more Metal Bat-and-King-esque chapters. I wanna see how everyone gets along.

Also, the concept of Puri just manifesting drilling powers and carving through solid rock with nothing else but pure strength and determination is so funny. A little convenient, sure, but I really don’t care because it’s actually done well. Their reunion scene is hilarious. More stuff like this pleaz….

I don’t even know what to say about Genos here. Dude, I know you made an oath to protect Tatsumaki or whatever, but there’s no shame in a good bail. You can’t even bail anymore because your damn legs are gone. See, this is what happens when you make promises. The secret to keeping your legs intact is doing the bare minimum. Hope this helps ❤️

He’s making a valiant effort but… I’m afraid he just ain’t gonna do much while roleplaying as a worm. Maybe he’ll make a chrysalis and come out as a butterfly. Wait, that’s caterpillars. Fuck. TATSUMAKI IS A GONER, BRO. WE NEED YOU TO BE THE DEUTERAGONIST!! IF YOU DIE WE LOSE 70% OF MERCH SALES NOOOOOOOO

Local man has a heart attack in front of thousands of little monsters and somehow saves the world, more at 5.

King I’m begging you please get that shit checked out that’s not NORMAL.

Yeah, I like this conclusion. Very tasteful cliffhanger. I mean we know King ain’t gonna do shit but SOMEHOW black sperm is gonna get punted like the little cumstain he is. Can’t wait to see the events that unfold next chapter… it seems like every scene that involves King turns out to be really funny and I’m super looking forward to black sperm seeing Jesus.

Also, a little off-topic but I just really like the way Murata inked his pants. Got a real comic book feel to it. I mean, he’s just really good at drawing clothes overall (save for Fubuki’s body-tight dress that is 100% not how women’s clothing works but I digress). Fucker understands fabric physics like I understand how to make a bomb ass chicken parm. I respect it.

In conclusion, lower everyone’s expectations of you and you might get to keep your arms and legs. This has been Life Lessons from Forrest. You now owe me 50$.

#one punch man #opm #zombieman #metal bat #child emperor #king #manga spoilers #I mean not really it’s been out for like two weeks now (I think)#Genos #Tatsumaki #puri puri prisoner #meta

197 notes · View notes

the-nysh · 2 years

Note

So I noticed that this panel in the webcomic got directly adapted into the manga and it seems to confirm that it was God speaking here. Does this mean that later on when webcomic Garou gets sent flying into the sky and comes back transformed he willingly accepted God's powerup while manga Garou had to be tricked?

The webcomic translation implies that Garou is the one listening but I checked on DeepL and the correct translation is "I can hear you" or "I hear you" instead of "I'm listening", an understandable mistake considering that in that context it appeared Garou was the one talking.

Anyway what do you think?

No, there's really no 'mistake' in interpretation, and neither can fans use the manga to retroactively jump back to 'confirm' what already happened years ago in the webcomic, since the two stories have long evolved/diverged by now into completely separate, different beasts. Meaning that what we're actually seeing here is another case of the manga taking/reshuffling the placement of old wc lines to adapt with a new spin into a completely changed context. As an alternative reality/retelling of the story where the wc can still independently stand on its own.

Why? Because revisit the two scenes’ respective contexts immediately preceding those panels:

The wc is Garou demanding the fallen S Class rise to meet his provocation with their own heroic determination - literally standing there waiting for their answer, in his disappointment at their performance (like 'is this all you've got? how can you call yourselves heroes if I'm about to dramatically pretend to do this...'), for wanting a true hero to properly face him and meet his challenge. In which Saitama is still standing over there too, whom Garou hasn't noticed(tm) yet, and Evil Natural Water surges up in response (to either Garou’s, or everyone’s lingering feelings of bitter frustration/anger here) for Saitama to punch away, gain Garou's attention, and begin their encounter properly. The redrawn manga's context is after they've already fought and Saitama's literally punched him out of the 'monster' shell, where Garou internally contemplates/questions his expected, inevitable end to always get one-sidedly beaten by the world’s unfairness. They are completely different scenes.

Moreover, 'god' in the wc speaks in [brackets] like these too, and the wc raws for that 'listening' panel show nothing of the sort. The speaker is unclear. Meaning it could be the continuation of Garou's expectant words (which is how it feels), the thoughts of the conscious yet immobilized heroes still hearing his speech, or even Saitama who's still standing there watching everything too but yet to engage him as well. There’s no evidence to suggest it was actually ‘god’ listening in all along, and not even interfering in the later wc scenes where Garou transforms off-panel in the air either. There’s no additional clues beyond Garou willing it all himself through the sheer strength of his emotions, and then rhetorically thanking the air/Saitama for pushing him that far (with grateful tears of blood) for extra dramatic flair, to have finally gained the monster form of his dreams. (His power is actually decreased from before, and to which he returns human scot-free, with no confiscation risk to his life or sanity from any apparent deal from ‘god’ afterwards either.) The redrawn manga reshuffling lines and inserting completely new context, by changing it all to 'god' literally robbing Garou of his voice, does not prove the same thing ever happened (or was intended/meant to happen that way) back then in the webcomic.

Additionally, even an avid Japanese Garou fan (+cosplayer), whose ch reactions I’ve been following since their most heartfelt meta on wc Garou’s return, expressed how upset & shaken they were with this redraw, enough that they don’t want to continue reading anymore, esp if the manga’s conclusion here is what was originally meant in the wc. So this means even Japanese fans, without any loss in translation to mistake or misinterpret, really aren’t feeling well from the shock of this change either. As it’s always been important Garou does this solely by, and as himself (so he retains his agency, accountability, and the consequences of his own actions/mistakes post-arc - none of which can proceed the same way if it’s actually no longer him or even his fault anymore, as an unwitting victim to god’s evil.)

So believe what you want to, but personally I’m of the same opinion that even with the manga’s new context, it can’t change the enjoyment or color the message, understanding, and progression of how the wc originally went.

#opm #garou #manga spoilers #recon1511 #replies #commentary #cause i've seen fans start jumping to say the wc was always like this #when that's not true since even japanese fans are confused and shaken

35 notes · View notes

g4rous · 3 years

Text

Sunlit memories (Garou x Reader)

tags: slight mentions of blood, no warnings really

words: 1.5 k

notes: this one is slightly longer than the two before bc I had to put in a lot of stuff here lol but anyways aa here it is finally! Tried making it a bit lighthearted <3

series masterlist

previous chapter

Chapter three

After lazily opening your eyes, pain spread through your head. The blackness from your vision cleared away, leaving a fog in your mind and the painful sensation was the first thing you could register before you felt the cold brick wall you were leaning on.

What just happened? Trying to recall how you got in that position, your eyes trailed to the opposite wall, now realizing you didn’t even remember being in this alley in the first place.

“Yo, you’re awake.”

Looking over at a few large wooden crates, your focus now shifted to the silver-haired teen sitting on top of them. You didn’t even make out a response upon witnessing the injuries behind his torn, black shirt. The puzzle was coming together.

Last sight you remember before going unconscious were the heroes from that mini-market fighting the same person right in front of you now. For a moment you almost thought you were being delirious, yet those wounds only proved your suspicions. Was he the self-proclaimed “Hero Hunter” everyone has been wild about recently?

“So…” he looked at you with an awkward expression, “ you gonna go now or?”

Slightly flinching as you snapped back to reality, now you were left completely perplexed on what to do. On one hand the realization made you feel quite uneasy, but on the other you were safe for some reason, despite getting caught up in the ruckus from before.

“What happened to those guys earlier..?”

“Oh, their bodies are probably still lying face down right around the corner,” he grinned, “if no one found them already, that is.”

However after picking up your distraught expression that boastful tone faded in an instant.

“Hey, hey they’re not dead, jeez quit freaking out.”

You only frowned after giving him a small glare. Your head still ached, although not as strong from a few minutes ago. How long have you been out? Judging by the still-sunset sky it shouldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, much to your relief. The street was still deserted and silent as well.

“Well, thanks for saving my skin back there I guess…” you looked over at his injuries, staggering for a moment after standing up.

“However, you should definitely get those injuries checked out. I think I saw a hospital or something around here somewhere.”

A few seconds passed as he looked at you with a blank stare.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Dude you’re literally bleeding all over.”

“I said I’m fine!-“, he exclaimed only to flinch in pain. “-why are you so worried anyways? Just go home.”

“Talk about stubborn,” you thought to yourself.

Though, on second thought you do see a good reason why he shouldn’t. It’s almost as if you had forgotten that you witnessed him straight up thrash some A-classes. That and all the other questions that piled up still haven’t left your mind, but be as it may now wasn’t the time for overthinking. People must be pursuing him everywhere now, huh?

You leaned against the wall, still contemplating the situation. Water droplets from the roof were the only thing breaking the silence as you both stood there quiet. That is, until you got an idea.

“I don’t plan on talking you into it anymore…” you spoke with a tinge of nervousness, “but I do have some bandages at home. It’ll just be ten minutes until we get there, I give you them and you can leave. I don’t think sitting on those crates until you bleed out is really practical.”

The teen almost reflexively wanted to protest but not a single sentence came out. He really couldn’t think of anything that made your idea sound regrettable, and as much as he hated to admit it he wasn’t in the best shape. You on the other hand felt almost obligated to help him out. Putting aside that shocking realization from earlier, he did watch over you after you got KO’d.

After finally jumping off the crates, he shrugged and put both hands in his pockets.

“Eh, sure.”

You gave a relieved smile before taking a look at the still empty street you were both heading for. The sky turned into shades of amaranthine and bit by bit street lights began illuminating the path. The streets nearing your house weren’t as deserted as the one you woke up in, and occasionally you had to move to a more hidden route. Fortunately you’ve been greeted by your neighborhood cat soon after, indicating the destination- your safe home.

“I don’t think you told me your real name yet, if I may know? I’m y/n by the way.”

“It’s Garou,” he responded after looking around, almost hesitantly.

“So… Why were you doing that today?” you spoke as you reached out for your keys.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Dunno, you don’t see someone beating up heroes every day.”

Taking a quick glance around your surroundings, you opened the door at last.

“You sure like answering questions with a question, huh?” you gave a tired smile, “ah, I won’t force out any answers from you I guess.”

The lights in the hallway were already open, illuminating the other rooms, some half empty. After all you still had some work to do in the house. Making your way to your room, the bag of trash next to the wall caught your attention briefly. You couldn’t remember the reason you left off in such a hurry, not even throwing it away.

“Well, come in!” you shouted from the other room, “just don’t get any blood on the carpet please.”

But much to your amusement the on-the-outside intimidating man just stood there with a blank expression ever since you stepped into the apartment. You weren’t sure was it politeness or just plain awkwardness but it made you cackle internally.

Even so, after your call he cautiously stepped out to the living room, actually being careful not to dirty the carpet as you told. The room was pleasingly decorated, and even if he didn’t know you it simply radiated with your energy. It was oddly comfortable.

And as you finally stepped out of your room with that first-aid kit, a ring on your doorbell caught you both by surprise. You almost asked yourself whether that’s a hero in front of the door, before your memory got jogged again.

“Well shit.”

You gestured an already alert and intense Garou to step away from the door, to which he only raised an eyebrow.

“Ah…” you whispered, looking over to the side, “I kinda forgot I called a friend over.”

“You remembered just now!?”

“I was knocked out!” you complained, much to his discontent.

What were you supposed to do now? You thought to yourself as your eyes trailed from the door to the teen. The doorbell rang once again as to make the atmosphere grow even more unsteady.

“Guess we have to improvise��”

“You’re joking right?”

“If she saw a beat-up guy jumping out my window I wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

He only rolled his eyes as you went to the door to finally greet your friend, adjusting your shirt along the way.

Frankly, you felt somewhat guilty for roping him in, all bloody and bruised to socialize with your rather concerned friend. Well, who wouldn’t get a little suspicious to see a strange man in their friend’s living room. To make things even more awkward he hadn’t said more than two sentences in the past hour, not that it’s surprising.

“So-,” your friend smiled, desperately trying not to glare at the man’s injuries, “- how did you two become friends?”

“Ah, it’s from that monster incident I told you about earlier,” you smiled back.

“So that’s why he’s so bruised,” she glanced over at him sympathetically, to which he only glared at you deadpan.

“Nothing special.” He spoke in a bluntly before yawning.

“Oh, how come?”

“He delivers stuff!” you exclaimed before any other thoughts came to mind, “sometimes he comes across them there too unfortunately. Poor guy.”

As if his deadpan look couldn’t get any drier.

It was crystal clear he hates being pitied, and you desperately tried not to let out a chuckle because of the ridiculous situation. Truthfully you weren’t even nervous anymore since you let out so many laughs. And your constant teasing only made him talkative since he just had to drop something even more embarrassing for payback, making the evening even more amusing. You didn’t even notice the clock struck midnight already from all the banter.

After saying farewell to your friend, you came back to your living room to see Garou already at the window.

“Looks like you really don’t wanna use the door today huh? Well, way better now than having to explain why some bloody dude jumped out my window earlier,” you grinned, to which he scoffed.

“Pfft, yeah, yeah. Don’t drag me into any more of these things though.”

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Well, it better not happen anymore,” he rolled his eyes before flashing a small grin.

“See ya.”

You only gave your small wave before finally closing the window. The apartment was now rather serene, contrasting all the playfulness from earlier. Yet still you couldn’t help but notice that smile caught you by surprise. Nothing like that cocky smirk in battle- this was genuine.

#feel free to tell me your thoughts 💕#garou #garou x reader #one punch man #opm #opm x reader #one punch man x reader #garou headcanons #garou x y/n #opm fanfic #garo

66 notes · View notes

scary-senpai · 2 years

Text

I’m probably overthinking this, but...

I think that’s what squicks me most about Saitama saying again and again “you’re a hero, you’re a hero” -- we’re talking about good like it’s a setting, like it’s a lightswitch you can simply turn on, and not something evasive and nebulous. Nobody makes a decision to just “be good” -- we agree to a lifetime of grappling with this concept, with questions that have no answers.

And that fact that Garou can save people without thinking seems pretty… troublesome, actually. There’s a reason that Absurdism usually lives at the center of Humor and Tragedy—it implies we’ve lost control, and the only thing we can do is laugh. So, that scene where Ultimate Evil saves Civilians via “Happy Little Accidents”—it reads like a Cosmic Joke, rather than a standard visual gag. And here’s the thing about Cosmic Jokes: they’re not actually funny. We laugh because that’s all we can do. Considering that Garou has set out to destroy the established order, and to twist Fate with his fist, this seems like an exceptionally troubling setup.

We don’t even know that Whimsically Saving Civilians is necessarily a Garou thing—it could be a Saitama thing: we know the universe bends over backwards to ensure that Caped Baldy wins every fight, but admittedly it won’t always allow Saitama to be heroic about. Think: the Meteor still destroys parts of City Z (even if the damage is significantly mitigated) and Saitama essentially wrecks Bang’s dojo while defending from the Bad Roads Gang—but I’m just pointing out that it’s an assumption. This isn’t the first time this has happened (Garou also beat up the Bad Roads Gang, entirely by accident—in fact, that’s how he made his grand entrance)-but Garou’s fights have had negative consequences, too (no Civilians got saved when he ambushed the Tank Toppers or declared war on the Hero Association, and IIRC his fight with Rover toppled Saitama’s house). There just doesn’t seem to be enough consistency to definitely say what’s going on with Pseudo-Awakened Garou, here.

In any case, our victories have value because we work for them. Think about how it felt to see Garou defeat Sage Centipede/“break all the tiles”: it felt objectively satisfying in a way the “Happy Accidents” scene was not, even though we saw grateful civilians—some of whom thanked Garou directly, which makes him visibly confused/uncomfortable.

In contrast, Garou actually looks proud of himself after killing Sage Centipede, even though nobody is around to congratulate him. It doesn’t seem to matter, though , because he knows that Bang is proud of him (“old man… I broke ‘em all this time.”) I think this underscores a point I made earlier: Garou wants to be loved for his worst self, not his best one. (He deserves this, and so do you). That’s his MO: everybody should be appreciated and accepted—the weirdos, the outcasts, the weak—and nobody should have to earn that through feats of strength, however noble and impressive they may be.

On top of that, I’ve always felt there’s something a little damning, a little Sisyphean, about the role Saitama finds himself in. Now that he’s the strongest, he’s trapped. It’s irresponsible for him to be anything other than a hero, even though he doesn’t seem to want that anymore.

This latest chapter is called “The Ultimate in Martial Arts, and Being Human” — and even in his monstrosity, Garou seems the most human out of everyone. Our compassion is infinite, but our bodies are finite. People like Garou, who feel things deeply, tend to oscillate between wanting to save the world, and wanting to raze it. And that’s what I’ve always found so terrifying about his character, what epitomizes “Despair Incarnate” for me: he reminds me of me, what I’m always feared I’ll turn into—what I’ve felt myself turning into, at times.

We see Garou’s character suddenly snap, and we tend to accept it—even when we know that profound anger doesn’t usually work that way; it is very much a “death by small cuts” situation. Furthermore, we know that ONE knows this, because in Mob Psycho, it appears on screen, and we see it fluctuate:

ONE sends a very clear message about what moves the needle up and down: other people. The people that hurt Mob (and those he loves), the people that care for him, and the ones that never see him at all.

And maybe that’s the twist of this fight: even if he wins, Saitama (and the rest of the heroes) have already lost, because they let things escalate to this level. At the end of the day, you didn’t have to round up a team of heroes to defeat Orochi, you just had to get to him before Psychos did. As with Garou, there are always people/entities looking for sad/angry/frightened people to exploit. Heroes don’t need to be powerful, but they do need to be kind (and I think Garou has always known that on some level, it’s just a question of whether or not ). But that’s frequently not the case in this universe, which is obviously something ONE’s done on purpose, and I think often about what the implications are.

#one punch man #opm #garou #saitama #meta

62 notes · View notes

distopea · 1 year

Text

@regensia

❝ i know i fucked up. i know i did but don’t shut me out anymore. let me in. please let in. ❞ ( garou to bad! )

IT’S ALL ABOUT THE YEARNING

There was nothing to welcome Garou but a click of his tongue when the hero hunter appeared at his window. They had been avoiding each other for a few days already, mostly because of a nasty fight. Bad was still injured because Garou couldn’t control himself. The hero was done with that – done with trying to figure out what was in his mind. Done pretending that he wasn’t hurt whenever Garou was treating him like shit. Bad stared at him with disdain, while he focused on his manga once more.

“Tsk, just fucking go away, I don’t want to see you.” Bad said, anger boiling like a magma. He felt that he had been missing his stupid face, but at the same time, he didn’t want to give in. He was pissed off and bruised, and that little voice of his wouldn’t settle the deal! Fuck it! Why was he always playing the sensitive card like this, and why was he so reactive? He hated himself for sensing that rush of colors on his cheeks. Even if he was hissing like a cat, Garou eventually entered his bedroom.

“Oï, you deaf stupid fucker?” Bad put the manga down, fingers already mapping the side of his bed to find his bat, but Garou was already invading his space. Don’t shut him out… Bad huffed and rolled his eyes. Whenever he was beating him, there was only one person shutting the other one out. Yet, when Garou put his hand close to Bad, the young hero felt a jolt of electricity rushing all the way up to his heart. He looked back at him, melting in front of that pitiful look on Garou’s face – he looked like a kicked puppy.

“You always say that. And do that!” Bad looked back at their fingers. He could perceive the warmth of Garou’s skin. He had missed it… “You just… Love to hurt me. Why are you always hurting me?” He flicked his fingers against the hunter’s forehead, still sulking hard. But eventually, he dropped his forehead against his shoulder, a big sigh of frustration leaving his throat.

“… Stop being such a dick with me.” He muttered, wiggled closer. Garou should know that Bad wouldn’t let him go away right now.

#; regensia #⌇call me metal bat ( 𝘽𝙖𝙙 | IC )#⌇hunting your metal heart ( 𝘽𝙖𝙙 / 𝙂𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪 )#; ITS BEEN SO LONG I AM YELLING #; Bad is a freaking black cat energy here #; like he's so UNHAPPY and yet so happy gfuysgdf #; fuck you Garou he says #; but I missed you

3 notes · View notes

kaincuro · 2 years

Note

what do u think about the idea of zenko not liking the whole batarou dating at first because she thinks garou will take more of badd's time (which is already limited due to hero work) from her but then eventually garou + zenko become closer than zenko + badd (basically they unite in pranking badd or something) and badd gets jealous? XD

I don’t think Badd would get jealous if anything he’d be relieved that she doesn’t feel upset about the whole thing anymore, because he could definitely tell that she was.

Not to mention the fact she probably outwardly didn’t like Garou at first due to the whole having to stop their fight thing and then Badd passing out afterwards.

The pranking is a tragedy but he can live with that if the two most important ppl to him can get along. :)

Also the first time Zenko calls Garou her brother they’re BOTH crying.

#asks #batarou

21 notes · View notes

garoumylove · 2 years

Text

And then the story, and both of you, reaches its climax 👀👀 The ending of my GarouXReader ♥️ 'Misunderstanding' which you can read from the beginning 👉 here :).

His face is brushing up against yours, his breath low and warm in you ear, he’s muttering something quietly, passionately to you, but his words are muffled in your disheveled hair. “I want… I...with you...You are…” You don’t hear it all but you feel the sentiment, the desire. You can feel his want, no his need, for you, all of you. Your body, your heart...

You forget where you are, Garou the only thing you can feel, hear, see, and your moans get considerably louder. He catches them quickly, his lips on yours, and you’re grateful for this cover as you realise how silent it really is outside.

You cum holding onto him for dear life, your moans from your mouth to his, your thighs so firmly squeezing his waist. He can feel your orgasm, a deep quiver from the inside out. He can feel your pulsing against him and savours the glorious feeling, watches you writhe in such intense pleasure.

“Cum,” you whisper to him urgently, still in the throes of your climax.

The explicitness of that from you surprises him, turns him on immeasurably. He moves faster while your orgasm continues to spread through your body. Your arms are wrapped around his back, you’re kissing his face almost in a frenzy.

“Cum inside me, Garou,” you whisper even more ardently. And here’s his name again, with such longing, and he can’t anymore.

Now you have to hurriedly press your mouth to his to stifle his groans, more like deep hungry growling, hold him tightly to you, feel the heat of him inside you, his hard, muscular body tensing...then finally relaxing, burying his face in your neck, your hair.

You lie there, in the euphoric inky darkness, your lover on top of you, his weight almost crushing you and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You run your fingers gently through his hair, waiting to get your breath back while he does the same.

He can feel your heart pounding against his chest and he’s sure you can feel his. He hopes that the misunderstanding has been cleared up. But if not, it’s alright, he can always show you again. And again. Until you are absolutely sure that he is hopelessly, endlessly, in love with you.

#it was all a misunderstanding ♥️#garou #opm #one punch man #garou opm #one punch man garou #garou fanfiction #opm fanfiction #one punch man fanfiction #x reader #xreader #garou x reader #garouxreader #reader insert

14 notes · View notes

hiruseki · 2 years

Text

don’t expect anyone to save you: tatsumaki & garou edition

someone on reddit made a post about garou and blast’s advice being similar. while i think it deserves some examination, i think it’s currently more fascinating to examine how this attitude has manifested in garou and tatsumaki, and where that mentality truly came from.

so, we don’t actually know enough about blast to know exactly why he gave this advice to tatsumaki. i’ve talked about garou’s advice to tareo about getting stronger here (a lot), but for now, what i find most interesting is the way tatsumaki and garou have carried this ideology with them since childhood, and how it keeps being shown to be physically effective, but emotionally destructive.

one of tatsumaki’s primary concerns is fubuki being held back by her group, insisting that fubuki should be as self sufficient as she is. it’s not as spelled out as blast and garou’s advice, but this advice is a direct result of blast’s advice to her. she thinks fubuki just needs to get stronger, because then, fubuki won’t need her protection anymore. sound familiar?

tatsumaki specifically criticizes fubuki for trusting her group to come save her. and as tatsumaki points out after their fight with do-s, they did, in fact, fail miserably. she had to save fubuki, just as she always has.

but in garou, this manifests as trying to make tareo strong enough to stop his ongoing victimization. as an outcast (similar to tatsumaki), garou has also realized that depending on others is dangerous. depending on the goodness of others, depending on authority, depending on justice--you can’t rely on any of it. all you can trust is yourself, and your strength. this advice is obviously A Lot, but it’s also pretty sad once you dig into it.

they’re both concerned with someone they care for being too weak to fight back, because their strength was never just for them. obviously, the way they treat fubuki and tareo is extremely different (although, the manga has made tatsumaki much softer, so we’ll see how it plays out), but their motivations are often just as much about protecting as they are about fighting.

look at how genuinely happy tatsumaki is when she feels like fubuki is strong. when she feels like fubuki won’t need anyone, and will be okay on her own. this is how she’s channeling blast’s advice.

i suspect blast gave tatsumaki this advice in earnest, truly believing it was the best thing he could offer her before leaving. his advice to her about protecting fubuki seems to be especially effective.

she seems to take this to mean that fubuki will be as vulnerable as she was, so she becomes the person who will help fubuki. blast is gone, and nobody is going to protect them. she’s coming to save fubuki. and she’ll keep doing it, no matter what.

blast ultimately tells her to just get stronger. and get stronger she does, and she is quick to drag herself to the finish line without asking for help.

btw, garou has a similar moment, even similarly paneled, where he pushes himself past his limit, completely isolated, determined to reach his goal no matter what.

in the manga, fubuki realizes tatsumaki’s motives more than in the webcomic. the pitfalls of obsessive self sufficiency have been explored a lot more overtly in the manga, especially with tatsumaki. both genos and fubuki have come to save her. and we already know who saves garou in the webcomic.

i don’t even think i need to elaborate on how destructive this mentality is in garou. his bullying has also left a curse on his heart, and unfortunately, both garou and tatsumaki have been rewarded for this mentality. they really did get obscenely strong, even if it was at the expense of their happiness and relationships. in the webcomic, fubuki even acknowledges their similarly oppressive strength.

very curious as to why blast gave his advice, and what his experiences have been. he seems to be just fine not relying on anyone, so it doesn’t appear to have been lipservice. he practices what he preaches.

the advice sounds callous, but it’s also not entirely off base. the world of OPM is a dark place, and if you’re weak, you’re in danger. but something garou and tatsumaki are acutely aware of is that it’s not just you who is in danger--it’s the people you care about too. fubuki is prepared to rise to the occasion, and teach tatsumaki that there’s a better way to be. and tareo is there to show garou who he really is. what’s truly sad about all of this is that garou and tatsumaki seem to truly believe this is the most compassionate, honest advice they can give.

TL;DR both tatsumaki and garou learned they needed to be strong enough to protect themselves, and the people they care for, even if it’s detrimental to them (which it very much is). because they never sought strength for strength’s sake.

#meta #one punch man #opm #garou #tatsumaki #dude this was supposed to be short there is something deeply the matter with me #mine #webcomic spoilers

42 notes · View notes