nowimjustastranger · 1 day ago
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What other things can you tell us about the Sombody to call my own au???
I am deeply fascinated by a Ford that goes around trying to bring Stanleys to other fates!!!!!
Also the way you write Fords for your aus is just 👌✨ DELICIOUSO ✨
Your fords and Stanley are interesting creatures that just tick off the right boxes for me!!
Dark-ish protective Ford? Stanley angst?
SIGN ME UP
Anyways your aus are some of my personal favorites!
And I constantly suffer brainrot rip
Hopefully you have a good timezone :D
Omg I'm so happy to hear that you like my AU's!!! I worry about characterization a lot, so it's a relief when my readers tell me that the boys are written well. All my writing (for any fandom) features two things: feral and dark. I usually try to take the character that would fit both those qualities best and apply it to them.
Ford 419"3 has met other versions of himself in the multiverse, but he usually keeps to himself because he either wants to knock some sense into them or strangle them to death if he does actually interact with them. Ford's mentality is very much 'you don't even know what you have' in reference to Stan because most Ford's still have their brother (and for good fucking reason) but are still holding a grudge.
The way I see it, the younger that Ford loses Stan, the more unstable Ford is as an adult. Basically, the Axolotl knew what it was doing when Ford and Stan were paired together across dimensions.
Ford was the planned child and, while Stan was unexpected, he's just as necessary. As we see in canon, Ford is the one with the capabilities to destroy the world (accidentally or otherwise), while Stan ended up saving the world. Ford may have started the fight with Bill, but Stan had finished it.
They balance each other out. Where Ford is all brains, Stan is all heart.
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starry-eyed-psychopomp · 4 days ago
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No hate to cql or anything but every time I read a fic that has Lan Wangji be the Chief Cultivator I die inside. Because like. NO. That’s a TERRIBLE IDEA for everyone involved. First of all, Lan Zhan cannot communicate properly enough to be a politician, and his main priority is his husband. He is not suited for that role. Second of all, the novels’ implication that the next Chief Cultivator (if there even is one) would be Nie Huaisang is actually very important for Wei Wuxian’s character development?? Like, Wei Wuxian knows that Nie Huaisang is a lil conniving bitch who painstakingly arranged for the downfall of the most powerful man in the cultivation world, manipulating multiple people to their deaths (or at least emotional ruins) all for his own revenge. He knows that Nie Huaisang is capable of as much damage as Jin Guangyao, and that he’s poised to take over his seat of power. Wei Wuxian knows all of that and, very deliberately, decides not to give a fuck.
Wei Wuxian, who spent his entire life picking up the messes of other people, destroying himself in the process, only to have those same people spit in his face and make him a pariah, sees this potential Problem for the cultivation world and goes, “You know what? That’s none of my business.” and runs off to elope with his boyfriend. Like, Nie Huaisang probably won’t be as bad as Jin Guangyao. He’s been shown to have more human decency, at the very least. But he also spent the entire series expertly lying to everyone, so much so that we really don’t know what he plans to do now that he’s gotten his revenge. And you know what? That’s fine. He can fuck over all the four great sects if he’d like, because the cultivation world’s politics have been a corrupt shitshow for decades, and it’s their job to sort that shit out. It’s certainly not Wei Wuxian’s job. He’s done enough, and he deserves this one moment of selfishness. He deserves to get his own happy ending and settle down with the family he’s always wanted and not have to worry about saving all those ungrateful assholes. Wei Wuxian is at least on good terms with Nie Huaisang (it was awfully convenient that his old friend’s revenge scheme coincidentally involved resurrecting him and setting him up with his crush) and he trusts that he won’t fuck with him or his family.
And that’s good enough for him! Lan Wangji is similarly happy to spend the rest of his life with Wei Wuxian, and after 13 years of mourning he’s sure as fuck not gonna ruin his second chance to go play politics with the most obnoxious people in the world. The ideal ending for both of them is a happy marriage that mainly involves doing their own thing, night hunting together, fucking every day, and teaching the kids. Their calling, where other people are concerned, is absolutely as teachers, and nothing more.
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clanborn · 2 months ago
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star climax that i would personally enjoy: splashtail's got frostpaw pinned in their final confrontation, he's this close to finally killing her, and all of frostpaw's fears culminate and leave her frozen, unable to struggle free. curlfeather, through sheer willpower ignited by this immediate threat to her daughter's life, summons all the energy she can muster to project her image into the physical world, visible to both splash and frost. her sheer fury, her mangled corpse--here, present, clawing her way out of splashtail's dreams and into a waking nightmare, here to drag him down to hell with her--spooks splashtail to the core. this either frightens him so bad he suffers cardiac arrest, or he instantly bolts and abandons the clans forever (for the case where he could be brought back as a villain who is ideally no longer lame). once more, curlfeather saves frostpaw's life, this time from beyond the grave, so great is her love for her daughter. with the image of her bloodied mother burned in her mind, frostpaw's conflicted feelings bubble to the surface, feelings she's desperately forced underneath a layer of anger and resentment. frostpaw faces the truth: that her mother manipulated her for her own gain, but also that her mother loved her, and ultimately cared for frostpaw more than her own life. curlfeather was not entirely good or bad, she was simply just a cat, a flawed one, one capable of both good and bad things. hidden in all of her misdeeds was a cat that could be forgiven--and in turn, frostpaw too could be forgiven, and no longer needs to blame herself for every misfortune that had befallen her and her clan. frostpaw is also just a cat, a child under incredible duress, forced to make decisions that no child should have to make. she thinks of every cat that pushed that responsibility onto her--yes, her mother, but also splashtail, her older clanmates, every clan cat around the lake that turned a blind eye to her desperation. even starclan--her all knowing, benevolent ancestors--had stood by while she suffered, had caused her suffering, had used her not unlike the way curlfeather had. what made them different? why was curlfeather punished by cats who were no better? why was frostpaw punished for doing everything right? what distinction did starclan make between "good" and "bad" when all cats were capable of both, including starclan, in all its alleged, unerring kindness?
frostpaw once again does starclan's bidding, touches her nose to the moonpool and receives her nine lives. with each life, cats flash before her vision--harelight, riverstar, jayclaw--but they aren't the cats she sees. in her mind she sees curlfeather, blood on her paws and love in her eyes, and newly named froststar decides what sort of leader she will be. this is the last time she will follow starclan's path, no more will riverclan be subject to their will and their hypocrisies. relying on starclan is what destroyed them, their ancestors standing idle as riverclan tore itself apart for their favor. no more will riverclan force warriors and apprentices in certain roles, no more will it allow complacency, letting desperate voices go unheard. splashtail rejected starclan, but that is not what drove his bloodthirst and desire for power. under froststar's leadership, power would not solely lie in the paws of her and starclan, but shared among her clanmates, unable to be ripped away by a lone instigator, shattered by a single break in the chain.
maybe she'll be the kind of leader curlfeather wanted to be. maybe she'll be better. either way, froststar will lead riverclan into a golden dawn.
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gunsandspaceships · 7 months ago
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Tony Stark’s achievements
Childhood:
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“Brilliant and unique mind”
At age 4 built his first circuit board
At age 6 built his first engine
Cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school on a dare
Went to college at 14
Built cool smart robots (Dum-E and U) when he was a teen
At 17 graduated summa cum laude from MIT
Polyglot
Before Afghanistan:
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“Da Vinci of our time”
Became an owner and CEO of Stark Industries at 21
Successfully ran the company for decades
Advanced the world of technology, not only in weaponry and robotics but also:
created advanced AI J.A.R.V.I.S.
created holographic interface technology
created repulsor technology
Participated in charity
In and after Afghanistan:
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“I’m sorry, I’m not Tony Stark”
Survived an open-heart surgery in a cave, without general anesthesia
Lived with, in fact, a debilitating wound, shrapnel, and a huge and dangerous technological device in his body for years and was willing and capable of doing not only his usual work but also being a superhero and doing all these next things...
Did not give up under torture and fought with his captors
Invented and built a miniaturized Arc Reactor, in a cave, with a box of scraps
Invented and built Iron Man armor, in the same cave, with the same box of scraps
Escaped from captivity by himself (with help from Yinsen, but without any armed assistance)
Became an expert in piloting and driving
Saved people in Gulmira
Saved a USAF pilot
Probably the best hacker in the world, was able to easily hack networks of the Pentagon, US government, AIM, and SHIELD
Fought with Iron Monger after nearly died. Defeated him and saved many lives. Was ready to die for that
Built many more different Iron Man armors
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Fought terrorists between IM and IM2 (IM2 tie-in comics)
Saved a submarine crew (IM2 - newspapers in Vanko’s home)
Saved a woman from a fire (IM2 - newspapers in Vanko’s home)
“Stabilized East-West relations” (IM2 - newspapers in Vanko’s home), so the world was “enjoying its longest period of uninterrupted peace in years”
Organized Stark Expo
Was able to keep Iron Man armor in his safe hands despite the government’s and HYDRA’s attempts to take it for themselves
Defeated Ivan Vanko in Monaco
(Re)Discovered a new element
 Synthesized it, by building a particle accelerator, at home
Revolutionized energy industry and science. Gave clean energy to the world
Defeated Vanko in New York with Rhodey, Natasha, and Pepper and saved many lives again
Saved Peter Parker (IM2)
Made it so that the Abomination would not leave prison and join the Avengers
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Built Stark/Avengers Tower powered by Arc Reactor technology
Saved Steve Rogers and many civilians in Germany from Loki
Was able to fight with Thor on equal terms
Biggest brain on Earth, arguably - in the Universe:
best scientist on the team, in SHIELD, on Earth, in the Universe
expert in nuclear, particle, and quantum physics
was able to learn very quickly – became an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics in one night
Successfully tracked Tesseract by its gamma radiation with Bruce
Saved Helicarrier with the Avengers and SHIELD agents on board, almost died
Saved Rogers from a merc right after that
Fought with Chitauri, killed many of them, saved a lot of people
Was able to blow up a Leviathan by himself
Saved New York City by redirecting a nuke to the wormhole
Saved the world by destroying Thanos’ Chitauri army, almost died again
Founded The United States Department of Damage Control to clean up after battles
Rebuilt Stark Tower into Avengers Tower and gave each team member their own quarters
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One of the best biologists and biomedical engineers on Earth, even if it’s not his main area of expertise:
helped Maya with Extremis back in 1999, because knew more in her own field, and even didn’t remember that
was head hunted by Aldrich Killian to work on Extremis with/instead of Maya, who was the leading expert in tissue regeneration
improved and stabilized Extremis, so it became safe regenerative technology, and with it…
cured Pepper
healed extensive injuries in his chest
invented and implanted devices for remote control of his suits (into his forearm in IM3, and most probably into his brain for Mark L armor in Infinity War)
invented build-in diagnostic system in his suits
Invented many devices for protection purposes (ex. bomb disposal)
A capable detective. Figured out the cause of explosions in IM3 on his own
Saved Pepper instead of himself by putting Mark 42 on her during the attack on his Malibu mansion
Survived the attack with a barely working prototype suit. Shot down a helicopter with a piano
Was able to fight with enhanced fire-breathing regenerating terrorists without armor and weapons in Rose Hill. In handcuffs
Knowledgeable and skilled in medicine:
saved a kid with his arc reactor in a deleted scene from IM3, selflessly pulling it out of his chest and performing defibrillation under electric shocks
knew how to recognize hyperglycemia when Harley was eating 3rd bawl of candies
closed his wound in Infinity War with nanoparticles
performed first-aid on Bruce after his snap
Built a lot of stuff from random things he bought in a store for the assault on the Mandarin's mansion. In a motel
Successfully stormed the Mandarin's mansion full of armed and huge security guys with dogs. Alone. Without his armor
Successfully escaped captivity in the Mandarin's mansion with just a few pieces of armor on
Saved all the people who fell from the Air Force One
Stormed Roxxon Norco ship with Rhodey, without a suit. With one handgun
Saved the US president
Defeated Killian and his Extremis-enhanced terrorists, saved many lives
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Built quinjets
Created Iron Legion
Became the benefactor of the Avengers, provided them with everything, was a combatant, and also the team’s pilot, hacker, engineer, medic, and scientist
As an Avenger saved many lives on missions, including destroying the rest of HYDRA in AoU
With Bruce’s help created Veronica and Hulkbuster suit
Defeated a rogue Iron Legionnaire with a fork
In contrast to other team members was able to function after Wanda played with his mind
Defeated mad Hulk. Saved a lot of lives in Johannesburg
Easily hacked nuclear codes in Nexus and found J.A.R.V.I.S. “in the world’s biggest haystack”
Created advanced AI F.R.I.D.A.Y.
Many advanced AIs
Created Vision
With the Avengers defeated Ultron and his army
Evacuated people who were left in Sokovia
Saved a falling evacuation shuttle with people on it
Together with Thor saved Earth by destroying the falling Sokovia
Rebuilt Stark Compound into Avengers Compound for the team in Upstate New York
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Invented several medical devices, including leg braces, blood toxicity detector
Sponsored the development of technology for psychotherapy (B.A.R.F.). Prevented it from being used for harm
Funded all the students’ projects at MIT
Did everything possible to legally, politically, and physically protect the team before, during, and after the Civil War
Was able to disarm Winter Soldier without a suit, with only one armored glove
Figured out Spider-Man’s identity
Created Spider-Man’s suits
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Mentored, sponsored, and looked after Peter Parker
Saved Peter Parker (SMH). Twice
Saved the ferry from sinking
Invented nanoparticles
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 “Earth’s best defender”
Went to space to save Peter, Strange and bring back Time Stone
Saved Peter Parker (IW)
Saved Strange on the Donut spaceship. Killed Ebony Maw
Cloak of Levitation chose him as his second favorite (deleted scene with Tony wearing Levi and Strange in Mark L)
Was respected by Thanos himself
Withstood when Thanos hit him with a moon
Fought Thanos, made him bleed, kept fighting even without armor
Survived a severe injury thanks to his own invention
Was able to function, tried to fix Benatar, and return home while injured and ill with an infected wound
Built a lab for Bruce and helped him to become one with Hulk (combine the best of both worlds)
Became an amazing dad
Became an expert in time travel physics
Discovered/invented (controlled) Time travel
Built a time machine
Went on Time Heist and stole Tesseract from a guarded military base
Created his own Infinity Gauntlet
Thus brought half of the universe back to existence (Bruce snapped and partially sacrificed his health, but nothing would be possible without Tony)
Saved Bruce’s arm by providing emergency medical care
Fought with Thanos again and…
Saved the whole Universe
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yayakoishii · 1 year ago
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Want | Sanji x Chubby! Reader
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Chubby! Reader
WC: 5.5k
Genre: Fluff, slight Angst
Warnings: Sexual harrasment, derogatory terms for chubby people, mentions of blood, insecurities that lead to a bit of light self derogation (Please remember you're absolutely beautiful as you are <3)
A/n: The response on Hunger is insane. Over 700 likes?! I didn't expect much beyond a few 10-20 likes, thank you for all the love 😭 This is another self indulgent fic, more personal to me because I'm chubby myself so... I'm not super proud of the pacing tbh, but it's still pretty good, in my (biased) opinion, haha. I hope you enjoy it!!! ♡
also available on ao3!
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When you joined the Straw Hat crew, you didn't expect to fall in love with the blonde chef.
Actually, when you joined them, you weren't in the mindset to think about love and silly crushes. Your island had been destroyed by the Marines for a 'good cause' and despite the Straw Hats' best attempt, you were the only remaining survivor. Luffy kindly offered you a place on his crew, and you joined as an assistant to Chopper, slowly learning from him.
The first few weeks after you joined were tough for you, who had never travelled outside of your island. It took time to get used to the environmental changes along with the emotional grief of losing all your loved ones. The crew tried their best to cheer you up in their own ways, and you would forever be grateful for every one of them for at least trying, even if their methods weren't the most effective for you. It was the thought and the sentiment behind it that counted.
But what did work for you was… food. Ever since you were a child, you had loved food and it was the way you connected to life. Though you were not the greatest cook out there, you were capable of making things that were edible and quite good at times. On the ship though, you never had to cook, because Sanji would always do all the cooking. Whenever you offered to help, to take your mind off the pain you were feeling, he would kindly decline, saying that he would make you whatever you wanted.
But he couldn't. The dishes from your island were not recipes known quite to the rest of the world. Hell, even you didn't know all of them, save for some of your favourite foods that you had learnt from your mother. So you snuck in after dinner and made a dish from your hometown. It wasn't the best food you ever cooked, but it still meant something to you, because you were reminded of home.
You wrote down all the recipes you knew into a book, and kept it close. Whenever you missed your home, you would sneak into the kitchen at night and make yourself something with your wonky cooking skills that made the dish taste different every time. Still, the familiarity was enough to comfort you and let you wallow in the grief at the same time.
Until one day, you couldn't find your book.
"Nami?" You called unsurely to the navigator, who was lying on the deck under shade next to Robin. Behind them, Sanji was serving drinks. The three looked at you in question and suddenly under the scrutiny, your confidence faltered. "Um, uh.. d- did you see a journal somewhere? I can't find mine…"
"The brown one?" She asked, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. You nodded frantically, hoping she knew. "I don't think I did. Did you check under your bed?"
"I did," you whispered, feeling the sadness wash over you again. It's not like you didn't still remember the recipes, but your memory wasn't the best. Without the book, it would be hard to remember them all.
"Don't worry, we'll find it," Nami got up and reassured you, looking concerned. "Sanji. Robin."
The two of them nodded along and then the four of you were searching for it everywhere, until Sanji had to excuse himself apologetically because he had to go cook lunch. You could only nod, trying not to get down in the dumps again over a book, but it felt a little hopeless. Until you heard Sanji shout from the kitchen. The three of you ran over to find him scolding Luffy, your journal in his hand.
"I just wanted to see what was in it!" Luffy pouted, his rubbery hands swinging around to try and get it back.
"That's an invasion of privacy, Luffy!" Sanji looked angry, but you were too relieved about the fact that you had found the book to get upset with Luffy.
"It's okay," you said, reaching forward to get the book. "It's just… recipes, Luffy. From my hometown."
There was silence in the kitchen for a few seconds and Luffy's face dropped into a serious look.
"I'm sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "I thought… If I knew how to help you, you'd be happier."
It made you laugh softly, your heart warm at his kind intentions.
"Thank you, Captain," you smiled at him, eyes crinkling into crescent moons. "I am happy here. I just… miss my home, sometimes."
He wrapped you into a hug and Nami ruffled your hair a little. You smiled under the attention, holding the book close. Sanji for once was quiet, just staring at the book thoughtfully, though you didn't notice it then.
A few days after that event, Sanji called you to the kitchen before lunchtime. Curiously, you followed him to find… a plate of your favourite dish from your hometown. It was plated beautifully, making it look fancy and yet it still had that homey feeling to it. Sanji didn't say a word, just held out the chair for you to sit. You sat down in a daze, too focused on the smell of it lingering in the room.
It smelled like home.
And when you tasted it, you burst into tears. Because it tasted like home. It tasted exactly like your mom's. All the tears you had held back to not worry the crew were now spilling out without any end but you didn't care. Here, where only Sanji could see you, you let it all out. He didn't say anything, just placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezed to let you know he's there for you. You turned around to face him, but the tears made it all blurry. Knocking your head against his stomach, you cried harder.
Sanji just held your head, carding fingers through your hair in comfort, offering you a handkerchief. That, you realised later, was the moment your feelings for Sanji began.
After that day, you became a lot happier. Somehow, without words, just eating the food that Sanji made was enough to heal your broken heart bit by bit. Sometimes, he made extra because Luffy was curious and wanted to taste it too; and then the whole crew wanted it so Sanji made a few of your dishes for dinner. In that moment, surrounded by the smell of home, around your new family, your heart finally started healing.
You started noticing Sanji everywhere after you got used to life on the Thousand Sunny. From the small things he does, to the loud expressions of love he made, everything about him seemed wonderful and warm to you. Because you knew that beneath his overt affections for all the ladies, he was an infinitely kind, caring and observant person. How were you supposed to not fall for him, when he went above and beyond for you?
And yet, for all his admissions of love, you never believed that he could truly like you back like you felt for him. You were after all, not the prettiest girl around and you knew that. You were not slim like Nami or Robin, and it's not like you absolutely hated your soft and squishy body. But you wondered if Sanji would like you even though you weren't pretty.
All that self consciousness went out the window every time you were in his presence. He never made you feel less, or ugly– in fact, the way he spoke to you always left you a blushing mess. He made you feel special, and in the moment, it would be enough. Until you saw him fawning over Nami or Robin, and then the sneaky voice in your brain would whisper quiet thoughts comparing you to them. You had no chance with him, and you knew that.
And that was fine. You could live with that, couldn't you? You had to, because wanting more than you should never ended well. All it would leave behind is rejection, hurt and awkwardness. So you pressed down the feelings and acted as normally as you could.
The moment you realised that you loved Sanji was probably a memory you would never forget. Although it was unforgettable for you, it probably wasn't particularly that unique to others. That didn't matter to you because it was a memory you cherished ultimately.
It happened when the ship docked on a peaceful little island. Everyone else was going out to enjoy their time, and you wanted to spend that time with Sanji. So, casually, you made your request.
"Sanji?" Your timid utterance of his name got an instant reaction from the chef, who straightened up and looked at you with hearts in his eyes.
"Yes, (y/n)-chan?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Um, you're gonna go grocery shopping, right?" You had seen Nami complaining while handing him the money for the shopping.
"That's right," he leaned closer, almost too close but not quite into your personal bubble. Still, the proximity was enough for you to smell the mild smell of his perfume that left you a little weak in the knees. "Did you want me to get something for you, sweetheart?"
"I just," you hesitated, suddenly scared that he might realise your feelings and get disgusted. No, Sanji wasn't like that, you had to remind yourself. He would never treat you unkindly, even if he knew your feelings. "I heard you always do it alone. I thought you might enjoy some company?"
The hearts in Sanji's eyes disappeared as he stared at you like you were speaking gibberish for a few seconds. Under the intensity of that stare, you fidgeted and waited for his response.
"You're too kind, (y/n)-chan!" He finally cried, holding up your hands in his own bigger and colder ones. You flushed at the action, stammering out an actual gibberish response this time before you were whisked away by the blonde chef to town.
It felt all too much like a date to you, when you walked next to him. Sanji somehow made grocery shopping fun, or maybe that was just because of how much you liked him that anything with him was enjoyable? It didn't matter, you decided, because whichever it was, you couldn't deny that Sanji was equivalent to the sun on a cold day.
He enthusiastically showed you around, as if you were a tourist and he were a guide (when in fact, it was the first time in this town for both of you) causing you to giggle. Whenever you stopped to buy things, he would humour your curious questions on how to pick which vegetable and what cuts of which meat are the best. It felt awfully like a domestic date, one that made you smile when you imagined doing this with Sanji years down the line every week.
"And that's the last of it!" Sanji said happily, picking up the last bag. He was holding all the bags since the start, despite your insistence and now you were anxious, seeing him hold so many bags in his hands.
"Sanji, let me hold a few," you tried again, hands reaching out to take some of them. But Sanji just turned around so you couldn't reach the bags and grinned down at you.
"Nonsense, how could I let such a delicate lady hold such heavy bags?" His words made you flush in embarrassment. You were not delicate in any sense; surely, Sanji knew that too. And in spite of all his sincerity, the word just felt like it was mocking you.
"I'm… not…," you struggled to say, not wanting to argue but unable to keep it in either. With your chubby frame, no one had ever considered you as delicate.
"Let me do this for you, my love," Sanji's voice was soft and infinitely gentle, as if he was indeed holding something fragile in his hands. "I wouldn't feel good letting you carry anything when I'm more than capable."
"But Sanji!" you lightly whined, wringing your hands. "I don't feel good letting you carry all the burden either! Come on, just a few bags?"
Before Sanji could respond, you heard a scared squeak. Your brows furrowed and you looked around the marketplace, finding a man cornering a girl a few feet behind Sanji. She seemed uncomfortable and he was all in her personal space, saying something in a rough, sleazy voice that gave you shivers.
You were not a fighter, but the instinct to protect her overtook the rational part of your brain and you crossed the distance to where they were. Pushing him back, you stood in front of the girl to block her from him.
"Can't you see she's uncomfortable?" You said coldly. "Back off."
The man took an involuntary step back until his eyes fell on you. He reeked of alcohol and smoke and you felt like puking from the putrid stench coming off him but you held it together, trying to come off as more confident than you felt. His eyes roamed over your body shamelessly, and you felt dirty and uncomfortable from the action.
"Don't get in our business, fatty," he grinned, the smell of alcohol doubling the moment he opened his mouth. "Are you jealous that no one will ever give you the attention she's getting?"
The words stabbed you in the gut, even though you knew rationally that you were better off without the bad attention. That was the one perk of being conventionally average in looks– no one really looked at you, in good ways or bad. Or maybe you had just been lucky so far. But hearing him call you that, saying those words, even from someone like him, it hurt a small part of you. Before you could respond, a leg in black slacks came up and kicked the man down with such a force that everybody around paused, shocked by the sudden action.
Even you stepped back automatically, gasping when you saw that it was Sanji, still balancing all the bags perfectly while he had roundhouse kicked the man into the ground with so much force that you could see his teeth had become bloody and he was on the verge of unconsciousness.
"(Y/n)-chan doesn't need the attention of sewer rats like you," he said calmly, straightening back into position smoothly. "Her beauty only deserves the best of the best."
The sight of Sanji saying that with a calm face, his hair slightly tousled, his hands balancing the bags and his leg muscles rippling under the slacks – that image was imprinted in your heart and brain for the rest of your life. The words sent you into a shock, but when they finally processed, you couldn't deny the overwhelming realisation that crashed into you.
You love Sanji.
It wasn't just a silly crush, or something that could go away if you gave it time. The chef had unknowingly carved himself a place into your heart. He was taking over it, chamber by chamber.
"Sanji…" The word came out as a whisper, inaudible under the din of the market as people were talking about what was going on. You snapped out of it when you felt the girl behind you shuffle and you immediately squashed your thoughts down to examine them later. You turned around and asked her, "Are you okay?"
She looked very alarmed and upset, but she still shot you a grateful smile as she murmured, "Yes, thanks to you two."
"He didn't hurt you?" You asked, hands hovering over her as you looked to ensure if she was safe. A peek of crimson caught your eye when she raised her hand to rub her face. Her elbows had scraped against the rough brick wall in his tousling. "You have some scratches!"
"Oh," she turned her arms to look at the wounds, now feeling the burn after the adrenaline and fear response was receding.
"Come on, I'll treat it for you," you offered, opening your sling bag which had some emergency first aid. You usually carried it around for the members when you were off the ship, knowing that they were all too reckless to give a second thought to any wounds.
"Oh, no, no, I couldn't trouble you more!" She said, mortified but you gently shook your head, offering her a hand.
"It's no trouble," you reassured her. It took a little bit of convincing but she eventually calmed down and let you clean up the wound before you parted. Finally, you allowed yourself to look at Sanji, who immediately schooled his features so you wouldn't see the warm adoring look he was giving you the whole time. "Sanji… Are you okay too? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"
"Do you think I'm that weak, sweetheart?" He smiled teasingly, but you felt the need to defend yourself.
"I know you are strong," you insisted, worrying your lower lip as you tried to look him straight in the eyes but kept getting flustered. "But even strong people get wounds. Just because they are strong, doesn't mean that they don't feel the pain. So tell me honestly, Sanji. Are you hurt anywhere?'
"No," he promised. "But if you're that worried, I'll let you check me all out back on the ship."
He ended that with a wink, and this time, you couldn't hold back the flush threatening to overtake your face again. Sanji couldn't help making the mood light again, but he had no idea of the effect his words had on you.
"Stupid," you weakly pawed at his arm, walking away before he could say anything. The blonde chef just laughed and followed you, face once again soft and fond as he watched you.
Sanji may have been one of the only people onboard who was oblivious to your feelings, because a few of them did figure it out after watching the way you interacted with him. The first ones to realise were Nami and Robin, who called you out on it when the three of you were lying under the shade on the sunny deck.
"Really?" Nami had scrunched her nose, eyes critically analysing Sanji as he walked (danced, really) back to the kitchens after serving drinks to the three of you.
"Really what?" You asked, too busy sipping the cool drink to notice that she had noticed the way you had warmly thanked Sanji and given him a bright smile.
"Sanji?" Nami gave you a pointed look. The name made you freeze, and you tried to play it off.
"What about him?"
"Oh, come on!" Nami threw the slice of lemon that was on her drink. You caught it before it could fall on your shirt and muttered an indignant 'hey!' that the navigator ignored. "You like him, don't you?"
The words were enough to make you hide your face in embarrassment. Robin was smiling knowingly from the other side of Nami and you felt exposed, like they had both just turned you inside out.
"I do," you whispered after the few minutes of silent mortification that Nami had spent in self satisfaction.
"Why that loser though?" She said without any real bite. You knew she wasn't actually demeaning him; it was affectionate, in the way one would talk about their sibling's lovelife.
"Because!" You whispered, eyes running everywhere to check if no one else was around to hear you. "Have you looked at him? He's literally so pretty! He is kind, caring, and so, so thoughtful and generous. Without expecting anything in return, he is always giving and giving and he makes my stomach do silly things. He has curly eyebrows, Nami! I didn't think those could look good on anyone. Hell, I know I would look ugly with them, but he makes it work! It suits him, and he's so beautiful and I'm just–"
You collapsed onto your chair, your wet fingers from the condensation on the drink glass finding purchase in the dips of your face to hide it. Just talking about him was enough to get your heart beating fast, and the mortification of what you had just spilled to the two girls made you want the ground to swallow you already.
"You really like him," Robin's soft observation made you relax. She wasn't teasing you. You turned to look at her and caught the comforting smile she was sending your way.
"I was going to say you could do better," Nami turned to face you, swinging her feet around to your side, "but after hearing all that, I think… You two are perfect for each other. Despite all his antics, he has a good heart. And you'll be good for him, because you see him as he is."
"Yeah?" You couldn't help the small flower of hope blossoming in your chest.
"Really," Nami smiled, a rare genuine smile that was usually reserved for late night talks and reassurances in down times.
"You don't think…." You trailed off, fidgeting with the hem of your top, "he won't… find me good enough?"
"Are you crazy?" Nami snorted, picking up her drink. The melted ice had made the level go up so much that it was threatening to spill any moment. "You're better than anything he could dream of. I told you, didn't I? You would be good for him. Having someone like you in his life to ground him, I think there's nothing better than that. You're one of the sweetest people I have ever met. If anyone here isn't good enough, it's him."
"Hey now," you frowned, ready to defend Sanji but hearing his voice stopped you.
"Who isn't good enough for (y/n)-chan?" His face was stuck in a weird smile, like he was forcing it. He carefully placed the plate of pastries he had brought as he continued casually despite the silence, "I don't know who we are talking about but Nami-chan is right. No one is good enough for our lovely (y/n)-chan."
"Oh, look at that!" You hurriedly switched the topic, looking at the plate he had brought. The tiny pastries were adorable and colourful, looking so delicious that it would have made your mouth water if you weren't distracted at the moment. "This looks so good, Sanji. Seriously, if you keep feeding me like this, my weight will keep increasing!"
The last line became a teasing complaint, but you didn't expect Sanji to come to the side of your chair and lean down to where you were tilted. The proximity caused your eyes to widen, the blood thundering in your ears as he carefully tucked in a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, face so soft and warm that it make your insides feel like they were vibrating.
"All the more for me to love, so I would keep winning, wouldn't I, sweetheart?"
You choked, and the need to get away from him before you did something wild like grab him and kiss him got so much that your knee accidentally shot up and into Sanji's back, pushing him forward. The chef's eyes widened at the sudden attack, but he managed to not collapse on you by quickly holding onto the sides of the chair but now you were trapped in between his arms on top of the close proximity.
It made you so weak in the knees, and there was something hot and warm curling in your gut as you stammered gibberish, feeling like you were about to faint because Sanji's chest was practically touching yours and it was all too much.
"SORRY!" He hurriedly backed off the moment he got his bearings, and for the first time since you had come onboard, you saw him have a genuinely heavily flushed face. There was a little blood starting to leak from one of his nostrils and somehow, it helped you calm down. He was just as affected as you were. The idea was enough to lessen your embarrassment by a little.
"I'm the one who's sorry, Sanji," you said remorsefully, hiding your face completely in your hands this time. "I kicked you!"
"It wasn't on purpose," he said, right hand coming up to hide the blush on his own face. "I'm sorry for… for making you uncomfortable, (y/n)-chan!"
Uncomfortable? Did Sanji have any clue just how comfortable you actually felt? The problem wasn't that you were uncomfortable in the proximity; it was that you were too comfortable, to the point that you never wanted to leave. But that would be a dead giveaway of your feelings, right?
"Okay, this is just painful to watch now," Nami sighed, jolting the two of you. You had nearly forgotten that she and Robin were right there, and they had seen everything. She looked at you unhappily, mouth set in a tight line. "How about you two get a room and make out there?"
"Nami!" You cried out. She really just gave away your crush like that?!
"Just be grateful I'm not demanding money to make up for what I just had to witness," she sniffed haughtily, swinging her legs back onto the chair and pulling down her sunglasses. "Seriously, you two, go talk shit out. Or else, knowing you, you will just be awkward around each other and that's gonna be even more painful to watch."
She wasn't totally wrong. You were planning to avoid him, possibly by jumping off the Sunny and drowning to death since you didn't know how to swim. But that wasn't really a solution and even you could admit that.
"W- What's there to talk-?" Sanji seemed a little scared, wide eyes glancing between the three of you. Nami ignored him, and you were too flustered to look him in the eyes. Nami's suggestion was essentially for you to come clean, wasn't it? But that was easier said than done. The fear of rejection and the eventual awkwardness was gripping your insides in a chokehold, and you couldn't move your feet even if you tried.
"Sanji," Robin said calmly. "Pick up (y/n) and go to the kitchen."
"Huh?" You were startled at her words. Pick you up?! No way! "No, no way, I'm too… I'm too heavy, there's no need for that!" Even as you said that, you couldn't actually bring yourself to move.
"I don't really get it," Sanji admitted, looking between the three of you as he spoke, "but I can do that. (Y/n)-chan?"
"No, Sanji–" the protests died down the moment he bent down and picked you up like you weighed nothing. Even as he walked you across the deck, you couldn't help but think that it was kind of hot just how easily he picked you up. "Sanji…"
He didn't look at you until you were in the kitchen and the door was closed behind the two of you. He walked over to the table and then carefully placed you on it, as if you were a teacup made of fine china teetering with tea. Finally, he let his clear blue eyes stare down at you, the expression on his face more vulnerable and exposed than you had ever seen on him.
"Sanji?"
"I know I made you uncomfortable," he said quietly, backing away. His hands came up to rub away the blood but it only made it spread around and you winced at seeing that. You never wanted to see any blood on Sanji, if you could help it. "I touched your… you. It wasn't my intention, I swear! I just, I wanted, I–"
He abruptly shut up, looking frustrated with himself.
"Sanji."
He didn't look up, fists clenching at his side the moment you said his name.
"Come here, Sanji," you whispered, holding out your hands to beckon him closer. His eyes flickered over your face, as if trying to gauge out what you were feeling, even as he followed through your request without a second thought. You pulled out the handkerchief he had given you long back, and wiped away the blood over his upper lip and cheeks carefully before you picked up his hand. The thumb was bloody too, so you gently held the limb in one of your hands and wiped it with the other. "You didn't make me uncomfortable, Sanji."
He stayed quiet as you continued to wipe it until it was all gone.
"Didn't I?" He said the moment you were done.
"No," you said, looking up at him. You didn't let go of the hand, though you dropped the handkerchief beside you. Somehow, holding his hand seemed to give you the courage to make the admission Nami had told you to. "I… Sanji, I like you. A lot more than I ever thought it was possible to feel towards someone. I like you so much that it physically hurts when I see you flirting with other women. I like you so much that my heart feels warm whenever you are around, and I feel so safe in your arms that I never want to leave. I like it when you are close to me. But I know that you don't like me like that, so whenever you get so close, and I can't help but want you so much, it's painful for me. I never want to let you go."
Sanji's eyes darkened with every word you spoke, a gradual change that you didn't notice at first because you were all in over your head. His hands hovered around your waist as you finished.
"Who told you?" His voice was a little hoarse, and he cleared his throat the moment he realised how desperate he sounded.
"Told me what?" You asked timidly, looking down at your lap.
"That I don't like you?" Sanji's voice was a broken whisper like yours had been. "I have never heard anything more untrue than that. All this time, I wanted you but I kept my feelings to myself. Because you deserve so much, so much more than I am, so much more than I can give. I wanted and I wanted and I felt so greedy, wanting more and more of you, more than you would let me have– I wanted anything you were ready to give, and I also wanted everything you have to give. I thought you wouldn't want someone like me, when there are so many better options around for you–"
"What?" You couldn't help but laugh. All his words were making you delirious; this had to be some wild dream you had conjured up. It didn't feel real. None of it did. "I had better options around? Sanji, I was so sure you would never look twice at me! I never felt like I was pretty enough, or good enough to get your attention and you're telling me… I had better options? That's so–"
You kept laughing, body shaking from the weight of the laughter. Sanji stared at you, unsure hands still hovering around you. His fingers twitched from holding back the urge to pull you into him.
"You are the prettiest girl I have ever seen," he mumbled. "Not good enough to get my attention? Darling, you have had all of my attention ever since I met you. No other woman could compare to you from the moment you made your place in my heart known."
"Did I really have all your attention?" You asked, letting your insecurities bubble up. Now that you were both being honest, it was better to get it all out of the way, right? "Even when you looked at the other women…"
"I never looked at them the way I did you," his words were sincere, and in that moment, they were enough. You looked up at him, and your body broke into shivers the moment you realised the heat in his eyes as he stared down at you; like you were some unique dish he was finally getting the chance to eat after years of craving it.
"I didn't want the other options, Sanji," you whispered, the volume enough for the proximity you were in. "The only one I ever wanted was you."
You held his collars and pulled him in, and it was like he finally snapped, now that he had permission. His hands immediately grasped at your sides, gently holding the soft flesh there as he kissed you. And now it was your time to give and give, while he took from you like your lips were spilling with ambrosia and he was determined to get every drop. His warm breath fanned over your lips and the goosebumps on your skin rose again, your fingers tightening around the collars of his shirt.
When he let your lips go, he was greeted with the sight of your flushed and pleasantly buzzed expression, like you were drunk on him. Seeing you like that, because of him, it was enough to get him groaning.
"So beautiful," he whispered, leaving feather light kisses all over your face. "So gorgeous. All for me. All… for me to have?"
"Yeah," you whispered, looking up at him and seeing the devastated yet over-the-moon expression on Sanji's face. Even without words, he could always just cleave into your heart and press himself within its walls like they were made to fit him, and only him. "You can be greedy. Take all you want. I'm all yours."
°•❀•°
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elodieunderglass · 7 months ago
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Hi! I was wondering if you could help me out with a word I've forgotten? I'm trying to remember the name for a concept that (I think) talks about how people better understand or process Things once they have vocabulary to describe it - I've heard it talked about in regards to the colour orange, or coercive control, etc.
long story short i've just read a paper saying ancient Greeks and Romans weren't racist bc they had no word for racism and am trying to form an argument against!
(no worries if this is unanswerable, i'm aware its a bit of a long shot but you struck me as a person who Knows Things)
That’s extremely kind and funny of you. i don’t know much but i am ok at synthesis.
I think you might be thinking of the concepts loosely called the “Sapir-Whorf hypothesis”, which describes something called “linguistic determinism.” This idea has been “disproven”, as it is just too reductionist as a concept - people are clearly perfectly capable of having experiences that are tough to describe with words. There will be plenty of papers showing how this reasoning is applied.
but it is still commonly thrown around and still considered a useful teaching framework. That’s why you’ll see it referenced online as if it is fresh, new, and applicable - people learn about it every year in college. Also, elements of the framework are probably perfectly sound. It definitely seems to be the case that language shapes brains; it just doesn’t seem to be the case that humans who don’t have specific words for them can’t experience orange, or the future.
(Many things in college are taught using teaching frameworks that may not be, technically, true; the framework is intended to give a critical structure for interpreting information. Then, when we later find evidence that disproves the hypothesis, that single piece of information doesn’t destroy our expensive college education; what we paid for is the framework. This is mostly frustrating in the sciences, when fresh crops of undergraduate students crash around on social media, grappling with their first exposure to (complex concept) and how it’s DIFFERENT to what they learned BEFORE and their teachers LIED TO EVERYBODY and they’re going to save the world from POP SCIENCE by telling the TRUTH. You’ll notice that these TOTALLY NEW INFORMATION reveals map along the semester schedule. The thing here is that getting new information, or information being different from what you were previously told, does not cancel out the fact that you are getting what you pay for - an education. Learning new facts that change our relationships to hypotheses isn’t a ✨huge betrayal ✨ , but the expected process of academia. Anyway.)
You have an interesting response here, and can start by looking at the ways that Sapir-Whorf has been disproved. There will be loads of literature on that.
However, it would be interesting to look at the argument as an unpicking of the other side’s rather weird, ritualistic superstitious belief that a behavior doesn’t exist if the creatures doing it can’t describe it. It is not on the ancient Greeks and Romans to categorise and interpret their behavior for a modern educated audience. They do not have the wherewithal to do so. They are also fucking dead. We can name the behaviors we see, and describe their impacts, however the hell we like.
Sure, the ancient Greeks used “cancer” to refer to lumpy veiny tumors. We can infer that they still had blood cancer, because their medical texts describe leukaemia and their corpses have evidence of it - they just didn’t know it was cancer. But we do, so we can call it cancer. Just because Homer said “the wine-dark sea” in a flight of girlish whimsy doesn’t mean he was unable to distinguish grape juice from saltwater, which we know, because we can observe that he was an intelligent wordsmith perfectly capable of talking about wine and oceans in other contexts. We are the people who get to stand at our point of history with our words, and name things like “this person probably died of leukaemia” and “poets say things that aren’t necessarily literal” and “this behaviour was racist” and “that’s gay” and “togas kinda slay tho” despite Ancient Greeks having different concepts of cancer, wittiness, prejudice, homosexuality, and slaying than we do today.
Now just to caveat that people do get muddled about the concept of racism. Our understanding of racism from here - this point of history, with these words, probably from the West - is heavily influenced by how we see racism around us today: white supremacy and the construct of “whiteness,” European colonial expansion, transatlantic chattel slavery, orientalism, evangelism, 20th century racial science, and so on. This is the picture of racism that really dominates our current discourse, so people often mistake it for the definition of racism. (Perhaps in a linguistic-deterministic sort of way after all.) As a result, muddled-up people often say things like “I can’t be racist because I’m not a white American who throws slurs at black American people,” while being an Indian person in the UK who votes for vile anti-immigration practices, or a Polish person with a horrible attitude about the Roma. Many people genuinely hold this very kindergarten idea of racism; if your opponent does as well, they’re probably thinking something like “Ancient Greek and Roman people didn’t have a concept of white supremacy, because whiteness hadn’t been invented yet, so how could they be racist?” And that’s unsound reasoning in a separate sense.
Racism as the practice of prejudice against an ethnicity, particularly one that is a minority, is a power differential that is perfectly observable in ancient cultures. The beliefs and behaviors will be preserved in written plays, recorded slurs, beauty standards, reactions to foreign marriages, and travel writing. The impacts will be documented in political records, trade agreements, the layouts of historical districts of ancient towns.
You don’t need permission to point out behaviours and impacts. You can point them out in any words you like. You can make up entirely new words to bully the ancient romans with. You are the one at this point of history and your words are the ones that get used.
Pretending that “words” are some kind of an intellect-obscuring magical cloud in the face of actual evidence is just a piece of sophistry (derogatory) on the part of your opponent here. It’s meant to be a distraction. You can dismiss this very flimsy shield pretty quickly and get them in the soft meat of them never reading anything about the actual material topic, while they’re still looking up dictionary definitions or whatever.
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morsmortish · 4 months ago
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pandora rosier is not gentle and sweet and delicate. she may look like a beautiful victorian doll, but in reality she is like one of those sets of matryoshka dolls, where you open one up to see another inside. the outside doll may resemble a fragile looking, doe-eyed beauty, but the one inside is a Terrible Person. she is selfish and vicious and only acts for the sake of herself. she is not airy and dreamy and kind (she is not luna!!!), and she is capable of unimaginable cruelty towards those who wrong her. she is the definition of morally grey: she is not outwardly evil, she does actively seek to destroy the world, but she would not risk a thing to save it either. she is ruled by a sick sense of self-preservation, and she makes decisions based off of what is best for her or for those she loves. she is perhaps less sadistic than her brother, and finds less enjoyment in the torture and killing of animals in the back of their family garden, but she does find it fascinating. she observes evan when he experiments, and she will always be the one to clean up after him, carefully wipe the blood off his face, hide the evidence, bury the corpses. she holds no reservations against the atrocious acts he commits, both towards those animals but also later in life as a death eater, and if she wasn’t so concerned with protecting herself, perhaps she would have joined up. she certainly never cared either way if he was murdering innocents or not. she is beautiful on the outside, both of the twins are, but both of them are also rotten on the inside.
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runa-falls · 1 year ago
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Omfg I just had an amazing idea (I hope this hasn’t been done before or I’ll look stupid LMAO)
In ATSV, there’s that scene where Miguel Molly rocks miles into that train or whatever, and says that he’s been left to clean up his mess yeah? And no one ever acknowledges how much he’s really doing to keep everything together :((
Reader who appreciates everything that Miguel does for the multiverse in more ways than one. Fluff/smut porn with a little bit of plot for the distinguished gentlemen/ladies/people (I also just like longer fics lol)
Plz I’ll literally drop to my knees and beg you’re my savior 🙏🙏🙏
GN reader plzz ❤️❤️ily
pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader
cw: explicit (18+), angst, nipple play, comfort head, face fucking, rough handling, choking, cum eating.
wc: 2.5k
a/n: thanks for sending this in nonnie! i love angst/comfort :)) wasn't sure if you were ok with a reader who has female genitalia so i just wrote non-penetrative stuff...
thank you @campingwiththecharmings for reading this over <3 LOVE YOU BAE
masterlist
--
sometimes miguel comes home in silence.
he won't announce himself as he enters the front door or walk into every room to find and greet you with a tired smile and kiss like he usually does.
you won't even realize he's home until large arms suddenly wrap around you to pull you close late at night. Until he's guiding you into bed, holding your body so tight that you can't get away. you can't leave him.
sometimes he doesn't come back at all.
sometimes you have to sleep alone, huddling your face into his pillow, reminding yourself how capable he is -- that he's going to be okay. that he'll be back soon.
miguel is sweet. too sweet for his own good.
he works hard to make his life with you as normal as possible. he does it for you, but also for that part of him that craves domesticity.
the part that remembers having a family, a house in the suburbs, and a regular routine of waking up, eating, working, and sleeping.
he tries to keep everything bad -- all his stress, frustrations, anger, and fears -- at work. he never wants to bring it home to you. never wants you to have to hold the weight of his struggles on your shoulders.
so when he starts to lose his grip, he hides away.
and when he can't hold on any longer, he doesn't come home at all.
---
today, miguel came back quiet but not silent.
he opened the front door swiftly, kicking it shut behind him before making a beeline to the kitchen and grabbing a drink.
even if you weren't already downstairs, you'd be able to hear him.
he immediately hid away to the back porch, still in his suit, sitting on a bench that he put together when you first bought the house. his glove-covered hands clutch a cool beer that's already sweating from the balmy summer air.
you watch from the living room, perched on the couch, as he sits there in silence, barely moving a muscle.
he completely missed you when he walked in, too distracted by the mound of thoughts rushing through his mind.
this must be where he goes when he doesn't want to worry you. when he wants to be home but not present.
his dull crimson eyes drift shut as he lets the stress of the day roll off of him in waves, releasing the tension from his shoulders and the pinch at the middle of his eyebrows.
he tilts his head back until it bumps against the back wall of the house, letting out a sigh as he's supported from falling back.
slowly shutting your laptop and setting it to the side, you choose to just stare out the window and observe him as he watches the world move around him.
ever since you've known him, the fate of the multiverse has weighed on his shoulders and no matter how much he tries, how much he's done, it just keeps going. it's a never-ending cycle of protecting, saving, and destroying.
it's not healthy, but where would you be without him? where would anyone be?
there's an unspoken rule in your relationship to never talk about these occasional scenes of silence because you both know that you'd risk breaking the illusion -- the faux life where he can hang up his suit at the front door and come home to dinner with his partner.
like how it was before. how it could've been.
your shared temporary happiness, or sporadic bouts of happiness, was never meant to last long in the first place.
so why ruin something that can only be yours for a few more moments?
by the time he gets up from the old bench, the sun is setting, and his beer is long drained, bottle dangling prettily from his long fingers.
you don't even realize the hours of silence you've shared with him through the glass window until you hear the back door squeak open.
you look up and meet his eyes as he stands there frozen. he wasn't expecting you to be there. to see what you saw.
"...have you been there the whole time?" the door clicks shut behind him, but he stays put. you nod sheepishly, feeling like you've been caught doing something illegal. "i-i'm sorry i didn't say hi...i was distracted."
"no, it's ok. i was just answering emails--" you look down at your laptop, the one you shut off a few hours ago, "--until i decided to rest my eyes."
you aren't a very good liar, but it doesn't seem to matter. miguel hums absently, lost in his thoughts, placing his empty beer bottle on a table nearby. his movements are slower than usual when he shuffles closer to the couch.
"are you okay, honey?" you put your computer on the coffee table and turn toward him.
his eyes shut and he takes a deep breath, one hand holding onto the back of the couch for support. that answers the question for you.
you should've known not to ask that question. it never leads anywhere good. he'll either lie with a flat 'fine' or --
"I'm...tired." he finally says, a mere whisper like he doesn't want to admit it. you tilt your head, finally taking in his slouched shoulders and exhausted eyes.
of course, he's tired. he should be tired.
"come 'ere," you stretch out your arms, gesturing him to sit next to you. he walks over, plopping himself right against you, nearly sitting on you, but you don't mind. you wrap your arms around his broad shoulder, feeling him melt at your comforting touch.
it feels so good to have him in your arms again, to feel his unnatural warmth permeate through his super-suit. though you wake up in each other's arms every morning, you still crave his touch and his tendency to lean his whole weight against you like a lazy housecat.
"you've been working so hard, miguel..." he nods silently against your shoulder, nuzzling his head further into your space.
"someone has to..." he mutters, body already less tense than it was a few seconds ago.
"you don't have to, but you do anyway. you put your life on the line, day in, day out, protecting those who don't even know the dangers you're keeping them from."
he snorts, "you're making me sound a lot more heroic than i actually am. i'm just doing what needs to be done."
"you are heroic! you're a hero -- my hero."
his head lifts from your shoulder, "...really?"
his burgundy eyes sparkle when they meet yours, the first glimmer of energy that you've seen in him today. you smile, but you can't decide if it's a happy smile or not. on one hand you're sad. sad that he can't see how amazing he is, or how much he's done for the universe -- the multiverse.
but you're also happy that you get these moments with him. that you are at the receiving end of those sparkling eyes and hopeful looks. that he cares about your opinion that much.
"yes, really."
"you're not tired of me yet? of dating the busiest man in nueva york?"
"never." you lean into him, gently pressing your lips against his. you're suddenly giddy when he kisses back, lips moving expertly against yours. then he's smiling against you.
before you could pull back, he tugged you closer by the collar of your shirt, deepening the kiss, tongue tangling with yours. you giggle lightly when his hand slowly drifts down, fingers running over your chest and squeezing at your waist.
"thought you were tired?" you tease when you pull away. miguel is barely listening, too focused on pulling your shirt off. "miguel!"
"not right now, cariño. wanna see you." the cool air of the living room quickly wraps around you, your nipples pebbling right under his stare.
his eyes darken to a deep cherry hue as he teases you with a flick of his thumb. you whimper at how sensitive you feel, especially with how the texture of his gloves contrast with the softness of your skin, the delicate point of your bud.
"you're always so responsive for me..." he coos, "so nice, jus' letting me touch you like this." you gasp when he pinches you, goosebumps raising over the expanse of your body. his touch drifts down to the top of your pants, tan hands fiddling with the waistband teasingly.
you take a hold of his wrist before he could pull them down and he immediately stops, looking up at your face, wondering if he overstepped. you bite your lip as you build the courage to say what you want.
"wait, i-i wanna do something for you."
"what d'you mean?" miguel's hand comes up to cup your cheek, "you always do something for me, just by being by my side."
you want to fawn over his words, melt against his body while he does whatever he wants to you, but you quickly remind yourself that sometimes he needs to let go. that you should do the work and let him relax.
"please, miguel, just... let me." your hands move over the large bulge that presses against his flexible suit. you hear him sigh as you squeeze him gently. his hips buck into your hold, eager for your touch. "c-can you take it off please?"
"you mean you weren't just going to mouth over my suit until i cum?"
an intense heat flushes throughout your face at the idea. how filthy and needy that would be! you could imagine how his cock would throb under the material, how his cum would soak over the front of his crotch...
"i-i could--"
"-- i'm kidding, sweetheart." he chuckles, clicking a few buttons on his watch. his suit disappears without a warning and his muscled torso flexes under you from the sudden coolness of the room. he's wearing tight briefs underneath his suit, contouring his desperate hardness underneath.
you experimentally smooth a hand over him, watching avidly as the veins in his forearm pulse as he attempts holds himself back. you carefully tug his underwear down to reveal the wet mess that his dripping cock has made for you.
you run a finger over his sensitive tip and spread the precum that spills every time he takes a breath. he shivers at the feeling, eyes glowering as he watches you tease him. "are you just gonna stare or actually do something about it?" he growls, tired of the delicate touches and shy looks.
you don't answer him, instead, you dip down, licking softly over his shaft before shallowly suckling his tip into your mouth. he groans deeply, fingers instinctively burrowing into your hair without pushing you down.
"you're so sweet to me, baby. sucking my cock into your throat just to make me feel better..." you close your eyes as you start to take him deeper, swallowing around him until you feel the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. "you like this don't you?"
his grip on your head tightens when you moan around him, saliva dripping messily over his lap.
"fuck!" his hips buck and it shoves him further into your throat. not expecting the harsh intrusion, you choke around him, eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. "s-sorry, you're just so hot when you drool over me."
your legs tighten as his rough voice whispers soft apologies. he sounds so needy and desperate like he's barely holding himself back from fucking your throat.
you quickly recover with a hum, hand resting against his firm torso for support as you lift yourself off of him. he lightly holds onto your arm, staring lustfully at your flushed face and slick lips as you breathe heavily on top of him.
you're suddenly shy as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, despite sitting over him topless and cock-drunk.
"you know you can fuck my face if you want..." you offer, unable to meet his eyes. he doesn't let you look away though. his rough hand holds you by the jaw, making sure you can't escape the simmering heat in his eyes.
"don't say that baby...'cause i'll actually do it." his hips start to move as you stroke him again, fucking your fist harshly until your hand starts to tingle from the wet friction.
"...i want you to."
"really?"
"you work so hard, mig. you deserve some appreciation..."
"please, cariño..." he begs, breathlessly.
you lean over him and take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head as your tongue slicks against the underside of his shaft. he doesn't hesitate when he shoves your head down, forcing you to swallow all of him down.
he feels you gag a few times before he lets go. he almost didn't though. the feeling of your whine was euphoric as it vibrated up from your throat and against your lips. you're a mess on top of him, precum and drool coating your mouth, chin, and hands.
miguel lovingly brushes some stray hairs that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear as you continue to suck on him. he starts with soft thrusts into your mouth, dragging his cock slowly over the silk touch of your tongue. you open wide, round eyes staring politely up at him as he fucks your mouth from below.
he loves having control over you -- actually, he loves it when you give him control because it means you trust him, even after seeing all sides of him, good and bad, you're still with him.
he groans at how cute you look, his huge cock stuffing your pretty mouth. his hands move to hold both sides of your head, guiding you onto him until you can fully engulf him between your lips.
he can't hold back anymore; he needs to feel your throat tighten around him as you struggle to swallow him down your throat. he watches himself disappear down your throat, how eagerly you drink him in without a complaint.
his hips snap against your mouth, filling you over and over until your jaw aches. you whimper, heavy eyes watching as he falls apart for your mouth.
"i-i'm getting close--" he warns shakily, unable to stop his frantic movements when you look at him like that. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into your mouth. he finishes deep inside of you, cock prodding the back of your throat.
you drink him in, tasting his distinct salty sweetness, listening to his delicious groans as he comes down from his high. he jerks when your soft touches start to push him towards overstimulation, moans turning desperate.
"baby, enough, please."
you release him from your mouth, lips tingly and plump.
"feel better?" you sound raspy, even with how quietly you're speaking.
"i feel amazing, mi vida." he pulls you on top of him and holds you close (though it's insanely hot with your skin pressed against his like this). you cuddle him back, smiling as he pecks your tacky neck and shoulder lazily.
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arc-misadventures · 4 months ago
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MFK with Jaune: Harley Quinn, Pamela Isley, and Selina Kyle
Jaune: MFK XII
Nora: Oh Jaune-Jaune~?
Jaune: No, you can’t have your grenades back.
Nora: But, that’s not…?!
Jaune: You aren’t allowed to test peoples bone density with your war hammer.
Nora: But, it’s only, Cardin… Wait! No, that’s not what I want…??
Jaune: You can’t have another, McSchneer Lumberjack Burger. They banned you after you demanded more maple syrup bacon strips, and subsequently destroyed the counter when they said no.
Nora: That’s not what I wanted to ask!
Jaune: It’s not; Then what is it?
Nora: MFK~!
Jaune: Naww fuck…
Nora: Harley Quinn, Pamela Isley, or Selina Kyle~?
Jaune: The ladies of, Batman’s Rouge Gallery? Why them?
Nora: Why not them?
Jaune: …
Jaune: Fair enough… Okay… I would kill, Poison Ivy.
Nora: Aww… but, I thought you liked us red heads~?
Jaune: I do, but it’s more of personality/mind set kind of thing. I understand why she wants to save the environment, and all that. But, considering her powers she could make plants that absorb the pollution, and cleanse the environment like nature currently does. I mean, we’ve got algae springing up the can digest plastics, and there are mushrooms capable of absorbing nuclear radiation. I mean come on! Poison Ivy could easily do that, and make something ten times better at doing that! But, no let’s kill all the corrupt businessmen, politicians, and everyone on the whole god damn planet to save the environment! That’s sounds lovely~!
Nora: Okay… that sounded personal…
Jaune: Sorry, but environmentalists annoy the hell out of me! I mean come on! Let’s stop using all fossil fuels, and natural gas to prevent the world from ending in the next five years, a notion that they have said a dozen times in the last three decades! Not to mention that idea would kill millions in a matter of weeks if implemented?!
Nora: …?!
Nora: So…
Nora: Who ya gonna fuck…?
Jaune: Harely Quinn.
Nora: Oh really, you got a thing for clowns~?
Jaune: No. I have to pick, and of the two I would like to sleep with, Harely Quinn. I’m curious about how flexible she would be, among other things…
Nora: Nice~!
Jaune: And, lastly I would marry, Selina Kyle.
Nora: Why her?
Jaune: Admittedly I like, Catwoman the most out of the trio. I like her mature elegance, that femme fatale, and saucy air about her. Plus, I read the comics, she a romantic at heart with, Bruce Wayne. Granted unless written as so, Selina never overcomes, Bruce’s obsession with being, Batman. But, in the stories they do get together, they form a strong lasting pair who grow up to have a loving family together with.
Jaune: I want that too…
Jaune: You happy, Nora, have you got your answer.
Nora: I’m ecstatic, Fearless Leader~! I’ll see you later~!
Jaune: …
Jaune: Somethings off with that smile of hers… I don’t like it…
~~~
Nora: Alright ladies, have you made your decision?
Cinder: Perfectly! I will be going as, Catwoman. I already have a catsuit that I know, Jaune will absolutely drool all over~!
Nora: Oh, nice! It really shows of your phat ass! He better give that a nice hard slap when he sees it!
Cinder: I’ll give him plenty of reasons to do just that~! Now, Neo will be using her semblance to dress as, Harley Quinn. She is also flexible enough to play the part~!
Nora: I’m sure, Jaune will love that~! Don’t pull a muscle out there , Neo!
Neo: 😁
Nora: No, I’m being serious, he will pull some muscles when he’s done with you!
Neo: 🤕🥴
Nora: Oh~? Kinky, I like it~!
Cinder: And, lastly, Emerald will be using her semblance to appear as, Poison Ivy!
Emerald: Are you sure this will work? He hates, Poison Ivy.
Nora: That means he’ll hate fuck you to get rid of that pent up rage~!
Emerald: Oh…? Oh~? Oh that sounds like fun~!
Cinder: Alright girl, let’s head out! Let’s show, Jaune what’s it’s like to be embrace by a trio of femme fetale’s~!
Emerald: Thanks, Nora, we really appreciate your help!
Nora: No problem ladies! And, good luck!
Nora: Cause… you’ll need it… oh boy you’ll need it…
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doveywovy · 2 months ago
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👀 may the class please see your team 7 au thoughts?
+ @ohai-there + @oh-no-its-bird who all expressed interest in my team seven au, YES OKAY GATHER ROUND-
---
okay so team seven au where the mission to wave runs long. it's not any different in result, it just takes longer to get there. Zabuza and Kakashi stayed in their coma/recovery phases longer, then team seven stayed in wave longer after to let sasuke and kakashi recover from nearly dying, and all this means is that they miss the chuunin exams.
Kakashi thinks it means that they're missing the chuunin exams.
what it actually means is that, on their way back from Wave, they find out that Konoha has been destroyed.
The Suna invasion happened, and there was no Naruto there to talk Gaara out of it. There was no team seven to run interference. The village is gone. It's not just invaded, it's not just been couped, it's rubble. It's dust.
Everyone is dead.
The team is now, by happenstance, missing nin. They have no village to return too, and every member of their team except one is highly desirable with a massive bounty out. (Kakashi the Copy Ninja, Naruto the Jinchuurik, Sasuke the Last Uchiha... and then sakura.)
Naruto wants to go to the village anyways. he feels like he can save someone, they have to at least try, they have to do something. The idea it's too late, there's nothing to be done, is completely impossible for him to understand. he lost his family so young that this is the first time he's lost something he actually remembers having. He's struggling to process the grief, especially without physically seeing the proof of it.
Sasuke gets intensely protective and possessive. Yes, the village is gone- but all of his close bonds are with him and alive. This is a tragedy but it's one he's not directly experiencing for once, and it just reaffirms his fears about how easy it is for people to die. He feels responsible for keeping his teammates alive to an extent that is deeply unhealthy. Especially with how poorly his teammates are handling their grief- he feels like he's the only one prepared for it, the only one approaching the world with realism, the only one capable.
Sakura is experiencing loss for the first time, and nobody is giving her the time or space for it. There's no nice way for her to say "none of you have families, but i did and now i don't", but she's losing her mind about it and
Kakashi was struggling to be a sensei when he had a military state backing him up, and now he's essentially their dad and also they're on the fucking run with nowhere to go. He's responsible for them, for all of them, all of the time, and because they're getting hunted down so he can't just find a nice civilian to hand the kids over to (as if they'd let him, they're all attached like barnacles at this point). That's not even getting into how absolutely impossible it is for him to handle the massive loss they're trying to process, especially since he's really limited in how he can let them deal with it. No Naruto cannot see the bodies to internalize they're dead, no Sakura cannot try to find anything to remember her parents, and no they're not in a position where he can do anything about Sasuke's paranoia except encourage it.
Sakura is dealing with a grief she's never experienced before. She's not getting a lot of leeway, and she's also the one who keeps getting sent out to get them food or supplies from villages because everyone else on her team is wanted. sometimes she thinks about just staying in the little towns they pass through. Her team needs her, but she doesn't feel like she's really part of the team. Certainly doesn't feel like they're supporting her. And every time she goes back to them, things are worse. Maybe she was never meant to be a ninja at all. Maybe she should've been at home with her parents when the invasion happened.
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randomfox12245 · 3 days ago
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Gerald Robotnik was a good man who wanted to bring joy and happyness to the world through the power of science, though beset by the faults of a genius intellect that he was all too self aware about, who was driven to genocidal madness by the grief of losing Maria. The person he had invested so much into, devoted years of his life to saving. He made a deal with the devil for her sake. And it was all for nothing. And it was all his fault.
You cannot say that Gerald was NEVER a good man just because he committed evil at the end of his life.
All of humanity has darkness inside of them. All men are capable of the worst. Given the right circumstances you could commit evil that you, now, would consider unthinkable
That animal that had to slaughter baby mammoths to survive the winter is inside of us all. Always will be.
Gerald's crimes shouldn't be forgiven. But to deny that he was once a good man is morally repugnant in my opinion. To say that evil is retroactive is ethical absolutism. That man can only ever be one thing. That you're only ever as good as the last thing you ever did. A good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad act the good. Each should have its own reward. Gerald was a brilliant scientist who created the 9th Wonder of the world and tried to unlock the secrets of immortality. He was also a monster who tried to destroy the world. Both.
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sepublic · 2 years ago
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"Why bother teaching them anything when you could just... wipe them out?"
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This quote is ssoooo telling of Belos because he doesn’t actually want people to get better. He doesn’t want things to improve or heal, he just wants to destroy and tear down.
If Belos was even a little sincere, his mission would’ve been converting the Boiling Isles to Christianity, to actually save people's souls as he claims, but no! He doesn’t believe in restorative justice; He’s Christian so he believes in retributive justice! In punishment, and it makes perfect sense to him because this is Hell!
And Hell is the ultimate condemnation, it’s the point of no return. It’s when even God says you’re not capable of being redeemed, and takes away any chance you have at choosing to be better. It’s why Fallen Angels are a thing, but Risen Demons aren’t; You can always still mess up and never truly make up for it, it’s inevitable.
So why bother teaching them anything, as Belos says, when it's already been decided as a lost cause by God? Maybe he did understand the assignment, in that ironic way that actually exposes its flaws to a reasonable outsider, even as the supporter sees them as slandered virtues.
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And as the Collector responds to Belos' suggestion, NO, he wants to be their friends, he doesn't want to condemn people to a state they can’t come back from (Hence their misunderstanding and apprehension towards death)! They prioritize happiness, an idealistic world where everybody gets along, so for all their naivete and forcing of others, there's a sincerity Luz is able to speak to in order to convince. As she reassures the Collector, his mistake wasn't wanting happiness and chances for people; Just because compassion can sometimes backfire doesn't mean it's wrong.
This exchange really does deliver the difference between Belos and the protagonists, who believe in getting better and giving people the opportunity to do so, even if they recognize they can’t make them change either, and also have to defend themselves at the same time. Belos doesn’t want others to get better, nor himself; He refuses each chance to improve, and he’ll deprive the world of chances as well.
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poppy-s-rampage · 2 months ago
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Once a Hero.
Chapter 1: Too late!
Warnings: Blood, Gore and violence. You can't sue me now!
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Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!
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The Master of time leaned over the unmoving form of his young protegee, forceps needle and thread in hands. The old ghost deftly redid the stitches on the youngest torso. Slowly but surely closing the jagged ‘Y’ shaped wound shut.
‘How did it come to this?’
All it took was one minute of inattention for the young Halfa's timeline to be put in jeopardy. In a single moment of inattention, Daniel’s timeline tangled with another stray unstable one and merged. By the time Clockwork noticed, the timelines were already fused to the point of no return. Reality wrapped to fit the new Frankenstein series of events. So he did what he could, snip at some parts, and twist at others to make it so his protegee could have a chance of survival and still having a goodish timeline.
The gaping wound now finally shut, the old ghost went to treat the boy’s muzzle cuts and throat. The apparatus, when destroyed by the wail, had split open the right cheek’s flesh from the corner of the Halfas mouth, carving a morbid half smile. The boy’s tongue was bloody but could still be salvaged with diluted ectoplasm. The real problem was the throat; it was impossible to currently heal to a usable level with the concentration of ectoplasm he could safely use on Danny.
He was no Frostbite, but he was more than capable of putting back together the young ghost in a Time out. Daniel was too unstable to stay in the infinite realms, his core still too raw for pure Ecto. It would be like feeding a 10-year comatose patient a buffet after being kept alive via IV, transfer the concept to a fragilized and forcefully balanced core, and you get the idea.  It was also a way to better realize the consequences of his mistake. But not to apologize, nothing would ever be enough to fix what Daniel had endured.
Clockwork stopped believing in apologies an eternity ago.
It all had happened so fast, Phantom had no chance of changing the course of events. Ironically, the current timeline was the best possible outcome after the incident.
While his protegee’s original timeline’s parents would have been accepting of his heritage, the ones of the intruding unstable timeline were not. ‘Monsters’ would have been too kind of a word to describe them. Curiosity plagued individuals who could have given Dan a run for his money. The origin of a world’s collapse, the cause of too many deaths, terrifying geniuses with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and slaves of their obsessions. Even their children didn’t hold enough value for them to spare.
Thankfully, this world didn’t come to that and was still salvageable. Unfortunately, too many people have already lost their lives and existence to his mistake.
It had been like any tranquil day in young Daniel's life. He woke up groggy after a night of patrolling, went to school, hung out with his friends, patrolled a bit, saved a few weaker ghosts, stopped a few accidents and then went back home. The young Halfa had planned to finally reveal his identity to his parents- with no little insistence and encouragement from his sister and the reassurance of the previous Freakshow happenings. (He, of course, delayed the moment as much as he could.)
Of course, Clockwork had already watched and analyzed all the possible futures caused by this decision. He had assured Danny that no harm would befall him.
And since every possible happening was in Daniel’s favor, the ghost of time left the timeline out of his watch in favor of fixing yet another mess the Speedster’s had caused.
Seriously, what kind of mentally challenged troglodyte would erase an entire timeline to enjoy a cheap burger in loop instead of buying another!
*Crack*
The forceps broke in his hand. The Ancient summoned another one. Moving to stitch the lacerations on his king’s arms and legs.
It had, sadly, taken a while for the Master of Time to fix the Flash themed issues. It then took him an even longer while to salvage the tangled mess of timelines. He was far too late to save Danny’s loved ones. Humans, even Liminals, were fragile.
—-------------------
The reveal had gone well at first, Jack and Maddie had accepted their son’s new nature. But then the timelines merged, the Fenton parents became one with their alternates and the world was set ablaze.
The youngest Fenton was promptly drugged and knocked out, only to wake up on a dissection table. His parents and a few GIW agents circling him, tools in hand. The hours, maybe days, Daniel spent in these creatures’ grasps were a nightmare made real.
His sister and friends tried to free him, only to be captured and fall victim to the same fate. Amity Park’s younger population mutinied against the agency and scientists but quickly got shut down. Brutally. The city was deemed a lost cause and put on lock down. The elder Fentons and the GIW galvanized by their success, went after every single being standing in their way in the name of science and self-defense.
It was too much for the young Halfa. His every waking moment being haunted by monsters wearing the skin of people he used to know and love. To hear the same people who raised and loved him gloating at the harm they caused his fraid. At the harm they caused him, vindictive. Every ounce of strength Danny had went into figuring out a way to save what he had left. But alas, he was too late.
Everything culminated the moment the agents and his parents reentered the room for the how manyth time. Their make believe faces fixed into a cruel smirk, smiles too wide, eyes too bright and too many teeth. Were the ghosts truly the monsters ?
Black opaque bags were dragged into the room next. A dreadful foreboding feeling caressed his spine. It was different. What were they planning?! What did they do?!
Panic seized the Halfa’s heart, hair standing on end. Eyes wide and pupils dilating as he noticed the strong smell of copper permeating from the bags.  His restrained limbs shaking at the realization of the truth he oh so wanted to deny. 
The monsters kept talking, taunting and accusing him of something. Blaming him. But he didn’t ‘hear’ them over his ever rising dread.
They opened the bags and his world came crashing down.
Three lifeless barely recognizable corpses. Chest opened in a bloody imitation of a butterfly. Missing limbs and organs. An innumerable number of lacerations. All indicators of a painful and slow death. But yet their eyes remained closed into acceptance and welcoming the relief of death.
He wailed.
Despite the muzzle, despite his already severed vocal cords. The wail coming from his very core blasted everything in his surroundings. The muzzle shattered, the monsters vaporized into a red mist and the walls became debris.
The building shook. The creatures in human skin panicked trying desperately to flee the premise but they were too late.
The latest experimental portal meant to be mass produced by the GIW resonated with the Wail and destabilized. The explosion that followed erased the facility and its surroundings and triggered the original Fenton portal which in turn wiped the city above off the maps.
Every single being died. The GIW agents, the Fentons, the citizens and some of the weaker ghosts. The stronger Phantom rogues weren’t even in the range or succeeded in escaping. The Fentons and GIW were still ‘thankfully’ useless when it came to capturing them.
And then there was Phantom.
Unfortunately or fortunately for him.
Forever the exception.
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Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!
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Author note:
Hello! Thank you for reading! This time I didn't write this at 3 am!
.
.
.
.
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I wrote it at 5am! Insomnia says what?
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weepingtalecowboy · 2 months ago
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Shadow is a fucking menace of massive destruction
Fanfic prompt: The chain is telling eachother about their adventures and at some point they got to the point of dark or shadow links
And while everyone is considering their shadow or dark links the most dangerous
Four just one ups them all because shadow is a menace to society and genuinely insane
Like “my shadow link destroyed all of Hyrule in like a day or two ,a week at most he kidnapped my Zelda and forced me to remove a sword that was sealing one of my villains and essentially made me fight three villains at once him included and that isn’t even the worst of it”
The chain *thinking* : “how are you still alive with such a monstrosity running rampant”
Four continuing without noticing anyone being disturbed: “ he stole even more maidens from their shrines and burned down almost every single village and town he was also scaring the novice soldiers and possessed my dad while THE ARMY WAS TURNED against me because he impersonated me and racked up a high enough destruction count for my immediate execution not forgetting the fact that most of them were already under mind control”
The chain : “how did you kill somebody like him”
Four: “I gaslit him because he luckily had one weakness I could exploit pretending to be evil and all that stuff so when I killed him
he didn’t get the message and was still terrorizing me but now he was upset and not just sadistic so he tied me to a stake and set it on fire”
The chain *internally* : “WTF WTF WTF WTF how is he not dead”
Four still talking: “I somehow miraculously got saved and the only reason why I won was because he destroyed his one weak point and thereby helped me defeat the other villain and both died but he still didn’t accept that so he came back to life AGAIN (ignoring to tell that it was me who brought him back)
Four : “we decided to give up on fighting and now he stays with us because he is the most difficult to kill creature in the whole entire world and that way me and Zelda can keep an eye on him”
The chain: “man and we thought our darks were bad yours sounds like a nightmare”
Four realizing something: “I forgot to tell you about his massive bombs ,his dragons and his hammer strong enough to give me a concussion from several feet again”
The chain: “THERE IS MORE…!!,!?!.!.!!.?!
Warriors * hesitant* : “Cia probably still could be worse right…?”
Four : “maybe but he also was always in my personal space and I couldn’t tell him to get the fuck away from me because I had to befriend him pretty sure the only reason he isn’t the second coming of Cia is because he wasn’t interested in a sexual relationship”
The chain: “how is your dark side capable of one upping over four of our most vile and evil enemies without even trying”
Four : “pretty sure it’s the purple hair … that is a clear sign of evil”
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turbulentscrawl · 11 months ago
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In the poly post you said that ithaqua is as close as it get to a yandere may I ask why you think that ? Or any headcanons related to that if that's okay with you (sorry if the English is bad )
As luck would have it, Ithaqua is one of the few Hunters I think I have a decent grasp on rn so I was also able to crank this out quickly! (To my other request-ees: I'm working on HC requests for several other characters rn! I should have them ready to spam-post sometime this weekend <3)
So here's some general and sfw relationship hcs for Ithaqua ;)
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-A first small note, his exact age is not listed, but he’s described as a “young adult,” so I imagine him to be somewhere between 18-22.
-Ithaqua is a man who has entirely rejected society. He wants nothing more to do with it, with anyone, and any instance of breaching his territory is met with wind-swift punishment.
-It all fits when you consider the major events of his life. He was abandoned in a snowstorm, left for dead, because he was thought to be a devil. He was saved and raised by a “witch,” a kind woman who stood outside of society’s norms and was feared and hated for it. Their solitary home was trespassed on in the night, defiled, and his mother was kidnapped, tortured, and broken by a man with his exact face. Every small bit of comfort he ever had was destroyed by a mirror image of himself that was raised in “civilized” society. If that doesn’t cement the idea that people from that world can’t be given a chance, I don’t know what would.
-And I think on some level he questions the reality of it all. Did he do it? Did he destroy his own life? Was his so-called brother actually a copy of himself? Was Nathaniel supposed to be the better or the worse version? Was he himself evil before…or is he evil now? None of it matters in the long run, though. His only remaining goal in life is to defend his home and his mother’s resting place from interlopers. But he does get this distant, sour expression sometimes when he contemplates these things.
-I think he’s close to an as-is yandere because, if we assume he’s still capable of bonding with someone on a genuine level, that person would be a one true exception to his otherwise all-consuming distrust and hatred for society. He could not be “led to water”, so to speak, even by a partner who exemplified everything good left in the world. He’s just not capable of making that leap anymore.
-So again, he’s territorial, and that would 1000% extend to a partner. He’s not a master and you’re not his pet, but god would he try to keep you in his clutches. Use every sweet word and convincing anecdote in his arsenal to convince you to stay in the forest. The thing that keeps him from being all-out controlling is that his mother let him make his decisions for himself. She taught him how to survive in the wilderness, and she taught him about the rest of society, and she let him decide for himself if he ever wanted to get involved in it. He didn’t of course, because how could a place that shunned his mother be good for him? You deserve to make those choices too, even if he disagrees with what you pick.
-He will, however, watch you like a hawk. To not sugarcoat it, he’ll stalk you. Ithaqua wants to be prepared for the moment everything goes wrong. The moment he knows for certain will come, when you see he’s right about other people. When that happens, he’ll swoop in to save you. He refuses to be late again, like he was for his mother.
-He doesn’t leave the forest unattended often, but when you spend longer stints at your home in a village, you’ll notice the weather gradually becoming worse and worse. It seems to snow every day, and the wind is so harsh that walking outside is deafening and blinding. When you return to visit Ithaqua, the village mysteriously returns to its normal weather patterns.
-Ithaqua hates when other people interact with you. No one is no one is safe enough, trustworthy enough for him to not worry for your safety. They don’t deserve to even stand near you. But he won’t do anything until they do…or you say he can.
-Anyone he takes as a partner would have to remind him of his mother, at least a little. She’s the only example he has of a “good person” so he’s not likely to give people with divergent personality types much of a chance. He’s also more likely to trust a woman over a man, by a small margin.
-He won’t stand for being doted on or babied by anyone other than his mother or partner. he won't fall for other people's faux-gentleness! Don’t you know who he is? What he is? Call him cute or pitiful again and your blood will stain the snow red.
-His lips are always chapped to hell and back, sorry. Sharp kisses only for you.
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syluscore · 1 year ago
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Every Version of You (3)
A reverse harem with three variants of Leon Kennedy and feminine reader.
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~ Masterlist ~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
SONGS: To the End - My Chemical Romance and Broken Smile (My All) - Lil Peep
CONTENT WARNINGS FOR PART THREE: self-deprecating, angst, anxiety, depression, yelling, feelings of insignificance, death, talking about death, feelings of love, love confessions, mentions of wanting to die, arguing, teasing, anger, blood, bleeding out, descriptions of blood on skin, loss of hopes and dreams, trauma, tension
TAGLIST: @growingupnrealizing , @weneewinnie , @delulusimps , @yoonbabe-d , @missjoenowhere , @cassiecasluciluce , @greywardensaywhat , @kennedyswhore , @all-mights-babygirl , @weasleytwinscumslut , @pinkrose1422 , @british-mint-bunny
!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! THIS POST AND BLOG ARE 18+ ONLY!!!!!!!
PART "CHAPTER" THREE
Rookie sits on the cold floor with his back pressed against an even colder cement wall. But he feels uncomfortably warm with you sitting right next to him leaning your head on his shoulder.
It’s been an hour since he watched your random make out session with his older self. It stirred up feelings within himself that he’s not sure he wants to address. But sitting here in silence, there’s nothing else for him to really do. Of course his mind is wandering, threatening to burst out of his skull completely if he doesn’t suffocate the flames.
You’re not in any better state of mind. He feels less like a pussy seeing you struggle to process and cope with everything, just as he is, but he also wants to take it all away from you. He hates seeing you in so much pain, so torn up inside that all you can do is stare off blankly. He knows he’s useless to you right now. He’s staring off blankly at the same wall, so how in the hell could he ever be comforting to you?
Rookie never considered himself to be an overly anxious person, but right now, he feels like he merely exists as a cloud of anxiety over the room. 
He’s an insignificant man; he knows he isn’t destined for anything revolutionary or some sort of infamy. He’s looking at this older, well seasoned version of himself and doesn’t see how he could ever get to such a point in his life.
How is he supposed to meet the expectations layed out for him by his future self? Surviving apocalypses, outbreaks, and man made horrors? Somehow prevailing against all odds? He’s just Leon Kennedy, not a superhero. He’s been destined for failure since the day he was born. And yet, he’s somehow supposed to save lives and possibly even the world?
No wonder you freaking died! He’s irresponsible and not the leader type. He’s meant to do as he’s told and never fall out of line. That’s what Leon Kennedy is good at, not whatever this bullshit is. Time travel, for fuck’s sake? He’s entirely out of his element.
Then, he has to stand here quietly and watch as older Leon makes out with you. He sees this devotion and utter adoration in his eyes when he looks at you and it feels so foreign to him. That’s supposed to be him–he’s supposed to feel like that? Maybe not now, but one day? He’s capable of such a thing?
You’re a nice girl and everything, but he doesn’t know you all that well and he’s supposed to just accept that there’s something written in the stars between the two of you? How the fuck is he supposed to feel?
With the knowledge he now possesses, how is he supposed to authentically experience anything ever again? How does he naturally fall in love with you or know that he is in love with you, when in the back of his mind he knows he’s meant to? How does he go about his normal life, knowing an outbreak is coming and not to go running for the hills? Everything feels wrong–is everything wrong?
In all of the cheesy movies he’s seen about time travel, they say that this is the way timelines are destroyed. Is he responsible for completely fucking up the natural trajectory of the world? Maybe not this version of himself, but he still feels complicit. Something, or some things rather, happen to him and he’s messed up enough to be willing to destroy the world and society as we know it. What gives him the right–what makes him significant enough to do something so major?
Nothing has made sense since they showed up and pulled him from his life and timeline. He’s so overwhelmed and it’s only been a day or two since he was taken from his average life. 
You’re also overwhelmed and overthinking everything, but for very different reasons.
You’re sure of your feelings for Leon. When you thought he was dying, those feelings forced their way to the surface and demanded to be acknowledged. You could lie and blame it on the traumatic situation, but deep down, you know those feelings have always been there. It was easy to admit to them in the moment, simply because falling in love with Leon is one of the easiest things you’ve ever done. 
Now that you know Leon had to endure the same exact thing, except you actually died, it’s a hard pill to swallow to put it mildly. That’s not even mentioning the fact that you’re meant to die. You’re supposed to drop dead in what, a few weeks or maybe a few months? It fills you with an existential dread that you’ve never felt before. 
This must be how people feel when they’re told they only have a few months to live. The finality of it, the inevitability of it, fills you with a helpless feeling you desperately wish you didn’t have to address.
You keep replaying the conversation between you and Leon over and over and over. No matter how hard you try to push it out of your head, all you can hear are his words.
“...A life without you isn’t a life worth living for me.”
Dying? What the fuck is he talking about?
You pull yourself out of his grasp and force as much distance between the two of you as possible.
Leon speaks again. “I’m sorry. I know that’s a lot to process, but it’s my truth. I just needed you to know that.”
“I’m going to die?” Your voice is shaky, showing the nerves you’re trying to push down.
Leon shakes his head. “Not if I have anything to do with it. Hindsight is 20/20. If I have to sacrifice myself to save you, then I’m sorry I couldn’t live for you. But I’d choose you over absolutely anything any day. I’m nothing without you and I know you’d find happiness in this world, even without me. You’re resilient and beautiful and captivating. The world would bend to your will just to keep you.”
Your mouth falls open and all you can do is stare at him. You’re not one to ever be speechless, but you keep finding yourself in this state.
“How did it feel when you thought I died? Did you feel that emptiness–that helplessness? Do you understand how it feels now?”
“Not you. My Leon. And I’d rather not discuss how it felt, but thanks anyway I guess.” You avoid his eyes, but you have something else you need to say. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
You’re referring to the kiss and Leon recognizes that immediately.
“You’re serious?” He scoffs at you.
You scoff right back at him, “Yeah I’m fucking serious. You may be Leon’s older self, but you’re not my Leon. My feelings are for him.”
You feel like you betrayed him. Whether it’s his older self or his younger self or whoever, your loyalty belongs to your Leon. Fuck every other timeline besides yours and his. It’s the only timeline you give a shit about. 
“I’ll try to be patient with you. I know I’ve had a lot more time to process the dynamic of what’s happening, but my love for you is unconditional. I love every version of you. In every past life, this life, the next one, and the one after that.”
“We’ll be able to wake Leon shortly. He just needs to… marinate a bit longer for lack of a better term,” Luis snaps you from your thoughts.
You nod at him. The emotions are eating you up from the inside out and you’re starting to feel numb and disconnected. 
“Hey,” Chris speaks up this time. “You’re not going to die. We’re here for the sole purpose of saving you. We won’t let anything happen to you. It’d be a waste of time for all of us if we let you die anyway.”
His last sentence is humorous and even though you try not to laugh, you can’t stop the huff of breath that leaves you.
“What if we can’t save me? Or what if we destroy the world by messing with the timeline or something? What if God comes down and smites us all? If you believe in any of that. Whatever divine presence you could possibly believe in, it doesn’t change anything. How can we know anything we do will change fate?” 
The word vomit just keeps tumbling past your lips. You can’t help it. You’re terrified. You’re anxious. You’re every negative feeling to ever be translated into this language.
“We’ve succeeded before with a whole lot less,” Luis explains. “I’m supposed to be dead, yet I’m very much alive.” He does jazz hands. As if he didn’t just casually mention they’ve done the time travel thing before and it’s the only reason he’s standing here. He treats it like you’re discussing what to order for fucking lunch.
“He was the trial run,” Leon explains while shrugging. “Sort of like a crash test dummy. We weren’t going to put you through this without knowing if it could actually work. Plus he’s a scientist, or whatever.”
“Jee, thanks amigo.”
Chris’ lips thin as he fails to hold back a laugh.
“For Christ’s sake, what now?” Leon spits out at Chris.
“I think he calls us amigo to remind us how white we are. A more accurate translation of his amigos would be his white people. It’s funny.”
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s kind of funny,” you butt in and Leon’s head whips in your direction, shooting you a death glare. You throw your hands up in the air to feign your innocence, but he just shakes his head at you.
“Amigos, why must we always argue?” 
Chris responds, “See, Leon? He’s not denying it. He’s patronizing us-”
“What the fuck are you talking about-”
“Hey!” Luis yells over the two of them. “Kiss and make up, will you? We got shit to take care of.”
Both men finally quiet down; Leon getting one more dirty look in at Chris before shifting his attention back to the conversation at hand. 
“Any way,” Luis looks back at you, “These two managed to get their hands on the technology to come back and intervene in my…ending. But the side effects are pretty brutal. I’ve spent a lot of time researching and altering our methods.”
“The mechanics were terrible,” Chris grimaces.
“What gave you that idea? The fact that we almost killed ourselves in the process?” Leon scowls.
Rookie finally speaks up. “Is he always like this?”
“Hope not,” you mumble.
“As I was saying,” Luis once again has to bring everyone’s attention back to the actual discussion. “Your mission will be delayed due to an urgent matter. The president’s daughter is kidnapped and Leon will be sent to retrieve her. I was meant to die on that mission.”
Leon finishes the story for Luis.
“Then, I get back and we go on with our assignment and everything goes wrong. You die, I barely survive, it’s a shitshow. But now Luis is alive and we’ve figured our shit out, so now we can go on with our actual initiative; saving the girl who somehow considers me a different person.”
“Sorry this is a weird situation we’ve found ourselves in.” You snap at him and he gives you a look of complete surprise at the outburst.
And then, Leon laughs. It’s a humorless laugh as he cradles his face in his hands. You’re completely confused at his reaction and you know it’s showing in your expression.
When his head whips back up, his eyes instantly meet yours, your heart stops and you’re actually startled by the angry expression on his face.
“You died in my fucking arms!” He shouts and the whole room falls into silence. 
You can’t bring yourself to look away from him. You wish the world would swallow you up and remove you from this situation. Or maybe if you could fold in on yourself until you ceased to exist right before his very eyes. Anything to not feel the intensity in the heat of his stare. 
You don’t know what to say. What the fuck do you say to that? I’m sorry for dying? It wasn’t my intention to do so? Thank you? Glad you could join me there? 
“Can we have a moment alone?” His words express a question, but his tone iterates it as a demand not to be argued against.
The other three men quietly leave the room. As they walk away, you silently plead for one of them to stay–to not leave you alone to face his wrath and fury on your own. 
But your prayers go unanswered as Rookie gives you a sympathetic look before closing the door behind him.
You stare down at your hands as you fiddle with your finger nails. You don’t know which would be worse, the deafening silence or him actually speaking to you. Do you even want to know what he has to say to you? He’s furious, to put it mildly, and you dread the fact that he might take it out on you. Leon wouldn't do that though–or would he? Do you even know anything at all anymore?
He sighs heavily before walking over to you, sitting next to you on the floor. He takes over Rookie’s old spot, his presence much more crowding than he younger counterpart.
He takes your left hand in his much larger hands. You feel so small with the way your hand ceases to exist between his. It’s scary, it’s overwhelming, it’s comforting. It’s a perfect fucking fit is what it is.
“I don’t mean to be so angry. I don’t want to be, but I can’t control it anymore. I’m so fucking angry.” He speaks to you quietly.
“Why?” Your voice is even quieter than his. It comes out barely above a whisper.
“You were bleeding out in my arms. Your blood covered my entire chest and was dripping off of my arms. And it was so warm; it’s like I can still feel it coating my skin.”
You finally turn your head to look at him, but he’s still looking ahead. You bring your other hand to his, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles gently. You silently encourage him to go on and he finally sighs, relenting.
“I could feel the life leaving your body, could feel you weakening against me. And in that moment, even though you knew you were dying and there was nothing we could do, you were comforting me. Assuring me that I’d be okay.”
Your lips form a sad smile, because you know that that is absolutely what you would do in that situation. Even as you lay there dying, half way in his arms and half way in the grim reapers, you’d want to make sure he was okay. You’d want to assure him that everything would be fine for him even though it wasn’t for you. It wouldn’t matter if you could accept the fact that you were dying or not; you’d want to comfort him with the fact that you were at peace with it. All for his sake.
“And then you were just,” He looks over at you and releases a heavy breath, “Gone. You stopped bleeding and your blood slowly dried into my skin. The blood went cold on me. And I knew there was nothing I could’ve done to save you, but I wanted that warm feeling back. I wished you were still bleeding out in my arms and that your warm blood was running down my body, just so that I could have even a few more seconds with you.”
You nod your head as you listen to him. He probably takes it as you encouraging him to talk about it and release it from his system, but it’s more than that to you. You understand how he felt. You would’ve jumped into the vat of liquid with Leon just to have those last moments with him. You hated the thought of him dying alone in there and you would’ve given anything to hold him in your arms that one last time.
“You know, I denied my feelings for you until the bitter end. I sat there with your lifeless body and that was when I finally allowed myself to admit I was in love with you. I was forced to acknowledge all of those emotions I’d refused to for so long. All I could do was whisper to you how much I loved you even though I knew you were no longer there to hear it.”
He leans in and rests his forehead against yours, “I’m sorry it took you bleeding out in my arms for me to finally speak the words of what I knew all along. I still feel the pain every goddamn day. I spent every minute after that wishing I would’ve just died with you.”
You pull your hands from his and bring them up to his face, holding his cheeks in your palms and forcing him to look you in the eyes.
“I know,” your voice waivers. “I know because it was the same for me. Felt like the fucking world was ending. I just knew that I loved you so much, and that I would never get to love you while you were alive.”
Leon wrapped his arms around you and you wrapped yours around him. You clung to each other so tightly, your souls might have actually merged together right there in that basement. It didn’t matter how complicated the situation was, because you two understood each other. And that’s all that really mattered in that moment.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
After a while, everyone is back in the basement. Chris, Luis, and Leon are gathered around the control panel, talking amongst themselves. You and Rookie are once again left to your own devices.
He hasn’t spoken much and just by the lost look on his face, you can see his mind running a thousand miles per hour.
“Hey,” Rookie’s attention is immediately on you, as if he was just waiting for you to speak to him. “I know it’s probably not comforting at all, but um, the version of me in your time is oblivious to everything too. We haven’t gone through life altering atrocities together yet. If she was brought here, I think she’d have shut down completely. Like, fuck, I’m still trying not to shut down completely.”
Rookie smiles at your attempt to calm his mind, like an actual smile. His actual smile versus the ones he fakes are so different, it’s like night and day. And you’d do anything to see his real smile, so you continue.
“I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you, having your dream ripped from you is devastating. Having to let go of everything you thought you’d have? Processing the world being completely different then how you always knew it to be? It’s miserable. It doesn’t matter if you save the entire world, you’ll never feel like a hero. But you are a hero, Leon. Nothing will ever lessen the burdens that are yours alone to bear and for that, I am so sorry.”
“Thank you,” he says before leaning his head on your shoulder, the opposite of your earlier position. When you were leaning on his shoulder in a subconscious need to be close to him.
“I think I’ll always mourn the life I wanted for myself. You know, the fulfilling career, finding my soulmate, the white picket fence. Can’t forget the house full of well behaved kids,” you huff out a laugh. “My dream is simple now, but seems so much harder to attain than my previous ones.”
“And what’s that?”
“To be happy.”
Rookie looks up at you, a solemn look on his face.
“Is it okay if I steal that dream and make it mine too?”
“Well, of course. Gotta shoot for the stars, right?”
You smile at each other, your smile only grows recognizing his genuine smile. And you stare at each other longer than what would be considered normal. But the longer you stare at each other, the harder you find it to look away.
In his eyes, you see every version of Leon and the feeling growing inside of your chest is foreign and new to you. Because he’s still your Leon, just the younger version. And the Leon leaning against the cement wall as he watches Luis and Chris argue over something on the control panel, is your Leon too. You have no fucking idea what to make of this realization.
You’re not sure how much time passes, when a throat clears, pulling you and Rookie’s attention over to the other men.
“His calibration is done,” Chris announces. “We can wake him up now.”
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