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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 1 year

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Errors, “Errors,” and Sci Fi

@strawberry-crocodile

tvtropes calls stuff like the wolf example "science matches on" which I think is a pretty fair shake

This. This is what’s got me thinking so much about errors. There’s a certain danger, here. A certain way that this particular effect — delicious dramatic irony — tempts the mind when reading old stories, even true ones.

What do you know about R.M.S. Titanic? I ask my class every year, and the first hand rises. “It was unsinkable,” the student inevitably says, and everyone is nodding, “or so they thought.” I write the word UNSINKABLE on the board, underneath my crude drawing of a ship with four smokestacks. It will be crossed out before the end of the hour, but not for the reason they expect.

“I find no evidence,” Walter Lord, preeminent biographer of the ship’s survivors, wrote, “that Titanic was ever advertised as unsinkable. This detail seems to have entered the collective mind so as to create a more perfect irony.” Indeed, historians’ examinations of White Star Line documents show the shipbuilders themselves worried it would be so large as to risk collision; they stocked several more lifeboats than 1910s regulations required.

The War to End All Wars (deep breath, satisfied exhale), also known as World War ONE. Chuckle. Shake of the head. What if I told you that this phrase, used primarily in American newspapers after the fact, wasn’t meant to be literal? Nowadays we’d say The Mother of All Wars, or One Hell of a Fucking War, but we wouldn’t mean literal motherhood, literal intercourse. What if I said the armistice and the Lost Generation and the Roaring 20s were all braced for another outbreak of European conflict, and yet we still failed to prevent it?

Did you know they were so confident in the safety of the S.S. Challenger that they put a civilian schoolteacher onboard? I do, because I’ve heard that one repeated many times. Only, see, it’s got the cause and effect reversed. Challenger launched on a day the shuttle’s engineers knew to be dangerously cold, because the first civilian in space was on board. And NASA knew its shuttle project would be cancelled entirely, if they couldn’t get that civilian’s much-delayed entry into space in the next two weeks. So they launched on a cold day, and killed her instead.

These are all what cognitive science calls Hindsight Bias on the personal level, what sociology calls Presentism on the cultural level. Social psychology’s a little of both, is primarily interested in why you’re sitting on your couch in a Colonize Mars shirt watching PBS and chuckling at the fools who believed in El Dorado. It wants to know why the mind flees straight from “marijuana will kill you” to “marijuana will cure cancer” without so much as a pause on the middle ground of its real benefits and drawbacks, its real (mild) risks and rewards.

And they can paralyze the sci-fi writer, if you think too much about them. Jetsons is futurist one decade, retro the next. “There are no bathrooms on the Enterprise,” the creators of Serenity say smugly, as if Gene Roddenberry should’ve simply known that decades later it’d be acceptable to show a man peeing in full view of the camera, nothing but the curve of the actor’s hand to protect his modesty. “No sound in space,” the Fandom Menace says, “No explosions in space,” and “A space station can’t collapse in zero-G.” Only then NASA burns a paper napkin outside of atmosphere, transmits music using only the ghost of nearby planets’ gravities, and logs onto Reddit long enough to point out the Death Star would implode in its own gravity field. And now we’re the ones pointing, the ones laughing, at those earlier point-and-laughers. Self-satisfied, smug in superiority. As if we did the work to find out ourselves, instead of just happening to be born a little later than George Lucas.

#errors #continuity #sci fi #presentism #star wars #titanic #world war i #science marches on #history #started a new post because i got waaaaaay off topic here #if you think the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park (1993) should've had feathers #you're a lot more ignorant about paleontology than the people you're trying to criticize #science was not handed down to us in its perfect complete form circa 1943 #stop for a second before you call out someone else's reptilian denonychus #someone else's oxygenated moon #and ask: am i better read #or am i just more recently born?

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crumbledcastle28 · 2 months

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Javier Peña: The Shittiest Goodbye

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Summary: Javier has no one saying goodbye to him. No one but you.

He smiled; you could tell even from behind your tears. His golden skin crinkled under his eyes, and he pulled you forward by the waist for a short hug. A really short hug – barely four seconds – before he stepped away and leaned down, gathering a bag in each hand.

“I’ll…I guess I’ll see you.”

You kept looking at him. You couldn’t seem to stop. Neither could he.

Warnings: feeeels, crying, kissing, yearning, longing, and all that jazz, one line that can kind of be interpreted as a size kink, but a hopeful ending.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: javi. he's always going to fucking do it for me.

A/N 2: I haven't watched narcos in like four years so if the plot is splotchy, I apologize.

If you would like to leave a like, ask, reblog, or comment, it would be much appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

He had told you in person, which was better than nothing.

“They’re sending me home. Tomorrow morning,” he said, putzing with the plastic chain hanging from the lamp on your desk. Eyes unable to meet yours. “My flight’s at 6.”

And then he walked away, each sound of his step away from you tipping the globe further and further off its axis.

You had known he was starting to take matters into his own hands. You had known said matters were dirty, bloody, and grey. And you had known said hands were now buried in a while lot of shit because of it.

You had known, and you still knew, walking into the El Dorado International Airport, squinting against the rising sun. You knew perfectly well who Javier Peña had gotten himself involved with and what they both had done on each other’s behalf.

The fact of the matter was – you didn’t give a shit, because what Javi was doing was moving the DEA further towards its goal than ever. It was fucking working.

In your opinion, if agents couldn’t get their hands dirty, then they couldn’t catch Escobar. Luckily for you, Javier felt similarly.

And yet, here he was, being sent home. The one person who gave you any comfort in the shitshow that had become your life. The only friend who had remained so every single day, the only one you could count on. The one man in all of South America that actually made you feel safe.

And, arguably, the only person in the entire DEA who truly wanted things to get better, even if it left a mark on his soul he could never wipe away.

These thoughts haunted you as you searched for Javi. For six in the morning, the gates were surprisingly crowded. Your tired eyes did their best to search for his prominent features – chestnut hair, perfectly highlighted with tips of blonde by the South American sun, broad shoulders, high cheekbones, curved, Roman nose, pouted lips, likely leaning on one leg, popping his hip out, with his hands on his waist. You secretly hoped he was in his Levi’s leather jacket.

Your eyes squinted as you peered around, lost in the sea of bodies, children, staff, and flight attendants. Suddenly, the thought of missing him wrapped its coils around you, sending a strange, foreign heat down to your toes and up your scalp. Your breathing heightened, images of him already on his flight, alone, thinking no one cared, thinking no one came from him, began to flood your brain. Your fingers grabbed at your chest, your teeth clamped around the skin of the inside of your mouth, pulling so hard you began to bleed.

He had said six, right? In the morning? Today? Had I heard him wrong?

Had he lied to me?

That thought was too much to bear, too much to process, too much too much too much –

A warm, callused hand wrapped around your forearm. You gasped, heart pounding so loud in your head that the man attached to the hand had to repeat what he was saying. His voice was muffled, his face was blurry, but everything about him was so handsome, and so familiar.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked in a kind of whisper-yell.

It was like you had taken a sedative, looking at Javier Peña, standing right in front of you. Not gone, not forgotten. Right here. Your nervous system evened instantly, like a bucket of warm, clean water had been dumped over your body.

You smiled at him, despite yourself. Despite the situation. Despite it all.

The edge of his lip quirked slightly, but it lasted quicker than a second, before returning to his usual scowl.

“Answer my question,” he said, pulling you towards him. He didn’t sound mad, just…shocked, and a little terrified. His touch on you was gentle, but firm.

You swallowed; eyes still locked into his. You placed your hand on his chest to steady yourself and grinned at the feel of the leather.

“Only if you answer mine first – did you really think you would get to leave without saying goodbye?”

He huffed, meeting your stare, unable to prevent the drop of humor that had culminated in his eyes. “I did say goodbye.”

“Oh please,” you said, pushing away from him. “That was the shittiest goodbye ever.”

He stayed silent for a moment, before letting out a quiet chuckle.

“Besides, six o’clock in the morning is an early call time for you,” you said. You were proved correct by the dark circles under his eyes. You wondered if he had slept at all the night before. “Had to make sure you actually made it.”

“Right,” he said, and looked around him, placing his hands on his hips. His tone suddenly became serious. “You shouldn’t be here.”

That shocked you. “Are you kidding me? Why not?”

“What if – someone sees you, from the DEA, thinks you were working with me. Then what?”

“Then I fucking deal with it,” you said. “I wasn’t going to let you leave thinking that no one would care that you were gone.”

That froze him, his eyes widening just so. The fact that he was shocked at all by that statement caused a fresh set of tears to line your eyes. It was faint, but it was noticeable.

He sighed, looking down at his shoes, allowing you to notice his bags placed on either side of his feet– a large leather carrier, and a small backpack. For a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, until a voice over the speaker interrupted him.

“Flight to Austin, Texas, boarding group one may begin boarding. I repeat, boarding group one may begin boarding for flight to Austin, Texas.”

Javier glanced down at his watch before pulling his ticket out of his back pocket, reading it over with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m group two. I should probably…”

You nodded, a wave of emotion suddenly rocking you once more. The tears were streaming now, down your face. You tried to wipe them away, put they just kept coming.

He took a step closer to you. “Why the tears, ángel?”

You sniffled, wiping your nose, doing the best you could to collect yourself. Maybe that was a good thing, as it allowed this newfound pet name to go completely over your head. The voice that came out of your mouth was nasally and cracked. “I am going to have to do so much paperwork.”

“I’ll…I guess I’ll see you.”

You kept looking at him. You couldn’t seem to stop. Neither could he.

He opened his mouth, once again about to say something, when the speaker went off again.

“First call for boarding group 2 for flight to Austin, Texas. I repeat, first call for boarding group 2 for flight to Austin, Texas.”

He didn’t move an inch. There were so many things you were wishing to say in that moment.

Don’t go. Please, don’t leave me here.

I’ll be alone. I’ll be alone, with you away.

I would have done the same thing you did, working with those men.

I understand why you did it, maybe better than anyone else.

I would have done the same thing, in your shoes. A couple times, I almost joined you.

I’ll go with you, and we’ll never go back. Never. Never.

You didn’t say a word, your confidence swirling down and down, deeper and deeper inside of you. Javier licked his lips and turned around, beginning to walk away. Like he did that day at your desk. Like he did however many times you had asked to help him with what he was doing. Like he did whenever the two of you would make eye contact for just a little too long.

At that all too familiar sight, the confidence inverted itself, instead flooding upwards all at once, flooding your brain with a mantra of why the fuck not?

For once, you listened to that voice, and did the same thing Javier had done to you only moments before. You took a long stride forward, grabbed his elbow, and turned him around.

And then, you took his face in your hands, and you kissed him.

Kiss was a stretch – it was more like a quick peck, barely even felt by either party. But it was something, something that got him as close to you as you had always wanted him to be – his breath fanning your face, his chest pressed against yours, a mix of coffee and mint on your lips, which you quickly licked away. Oddly enough, it steadied your heart, calmed you down instantly.

Because you had that now. That memory. Something more than passing glances and quick hugs. A part of you, in that moment, didn’t even care what his reaction was, because that feeling alone was enough for you to live with.

The rest of you, however, short circuited at the fact that he may not have wanted that at all, and you had completely violated him in the middle of a fucking airport.

You looked up into his wide eyes for barely a second before backing away from him, the beginnings of a million sorrys forming on your tongue.

That was until the bags slipped from his hands, landing on the harsh carpeting with a thud. He then rushed forward, using one hand to frame your face, and the other on the nape of your neck to tip your head back.

There was no time for your brain to accept this as fact before he brought your lips to his own, his kiss nothing less than searing, and nothing more than perfect.

You reciprocated as soon as you were able, wrapping your arms around his back to steady yourself. The feeling of his lips upon yours was better than you had ever imagined, better than you had ever fantasized about while he sat in your peripheral vision during meetings. His lips were soft, buttery, and so was his facial hair. It tickled your nose just so, which only heightened when he tilted your head further, licking the inside of your mouth. You moved your fingers to his hair in response, tugging him so harshly into you you stumbled backwards.

It was hot and sweaty, messy and desperate, and neither of you were letting up. Not even to breathe. His hands moving down to your waist felt too good, his chest against yours too real, his hair between your fingers too addictive, his soft groan every time your tongues clashed too vivid, and your lips molding together too perfect.

You were speaking to each other, in a way. Both of your bodies reciprocated every move, grabbing and twisting and pulling, both saying the same thing over and over and over again.

I’m going to miss you so fucking much.

Small eruptions of gold began to spawn behind your eyes, ones of pure pleasure, disbelief, and dizziness. His hands turned greedy now, encompassing the span of your back like it was nothing. The hairs on his face began to burn you, the feel of his warm mouth consuming you.

It was too much, too much too much too much, but it was so fucking good –

“Final call for boarding group two for flight to Austin, Texas. I repeat, final call for boarding group two for flight to Austin, Texas.”

It was like a switch flipped in both of your brains at once, propelling the both of you off of each other instantly. He didn’t make eye contact, not even for a second – just wiped his mouth quickly, fetching both bags, and turning from you, walking towards his gate.

He disappeared within the crowd, and you did the same. Turning back towards the entrance, pushing your way through the half-awake travelers, headed god knew where for god knew what.

Your lips still thumped, and so did your heart, so much so that you didn’t really know if you could feel your feet.

There were so many thoughts you could have been having, so much intricacy to the situation, that your brain did the only thing it could – it shut it all down, completely. If it hadn’t, you worried you wouldn’t have been able to pull from him in the first place.

It wasn’t until you made it back to your apartment and set your keys down on your nightstand that the thoughts started flooding in. There were too many to dissect, too rapid to make sense of, but one outweighed them all.

Had he looked back?

In your still hazy brain, that cemented every other question you had, calmed the steady stabbing that had begun to ache inside your skull. You fell asleep, the sun now high in the sky, illuminating your room into a kind of gold. It was a nice change, after a week of grey weather, but you were too gone to the world to notice.

The last thought you had before you escaped to slumber, and the first that you had the second you returned, was all the same: had Javier Peña looked back?

***

He had. Many, many times.

Tag list: (if you would like to be added or were somehow missed, please feel free to let me know :))

@lovesbiggerthanpride @paintlavillered @xocalliexo @c4psicle @joelsflannel @thesmutslut @untitledarea @daphne-turner @queerponcho @ririi-3

#javier pena smut #javi #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña oneshot #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedrohub #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #the last of us fanfiction #happy birthday daddyyyyyyyyyy

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arugan · 13 days

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Dream sweet in sea major ft. ssc

explanation below ⬇️

Second stage children are the most interesting characters to develop, drawing them was so fun.

i had an graphic designer assignement, it was about creating art, our path to create. but i didnt really understand the meaning of the assignement tbh so i gave this, with a silly explanation of how i create at the end lol. the song is Dream Sweet in Sea Major, from Musical Miracle. very good band i recommend.

i tried to give a meaning to each illustrations but to be honest my mind is not that smart, youll have shitty explanations and i hope i make it short lol.

"It feels like flying, but maybe we are dying" this lyric remind me of the whole group in general. second stage children have a limited life time, they have to make the most before its too late, their fightning style is compared to "flying" and their causes of why they do is because they are "dying" (ssc genes may dιε quicker since they dont live long (?)). i picked garo for this one, he is the one who fights alot

"A cosmic confluence of pyramids hologrammed" tbh i dont understand the meaning of the lyric 😭 i know it has a deep meaning in the song itself, but still. cosmic confluence symbolize the different timelines, all the ones that made saru forgot, which is the chalk trait he is tracing. he wanna make fey's head clearer as possible so he (fey or saru) can complete his mission. "pyramids hologrammed" remind me of all the hologrammed moments in cs, with el dorado.

"She knows you heard her" "Staging music murder". this time ill talk about the illustration. there is a part of the circle, it illustrate a clock, i was supposed to put "8" behind, why ? cuz they die at 20. sadly if i added a number next to all these typographies it wont come out great. instead i drew their logo team as clock hand. pointing in front of them. meaning time is going to kill them at "8". which explain the music murder.

"In line before the show began" that is so conceptual all the things i explain but bear with me 😭. in line -> zanark got enough talent/skills -> changed team everytime = reason why he appears 3 times cuz everytime he was in line to play again (show = match) (i drew him with braids because it PISSED ME OFF HIS HAIRCUT i had enough)

"To be where I am". "where" is pixelited because he is always looking for his place, he always moved on to other places, either its for matchs or looking for skills. and he only "found" his place when he miximaxed with clara j + joined chrono storm.

"Children born of one emotion", very basic and understandable. SSC were motived by one reason, people denied them the whole time, they grew up with one strong emotion : anger. (and saru is the only one to command the whole thing too, tiny detail)

"Our devotion's deepest ocean" this is one hell of a lyric but sadly i couldnt come up with a very nice illustration or meaning. their motivation is so strong they wanted to conquer the entire world.

anyway, sorry for the disappearance haha, i didnt have anything to post yk, homeworks and stuff. my first year end this 25th may, it went so fast

#yk what i think about else #about if some ssc didnt take the vaccine #this sht is sad asf #one day i remember i said imagine ssc just dιε randomly one day because their bodies couldnt take it anymore #anyway i hope all this make sense #inazuma eleven chrono stone #inazuma eleven #second stage children #セカンドステージ・チルドレン #inazuma eleven go

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magicalmysteryperson · 2 years

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Adrienn Banai: The Rat Lover

I didn't want to post about any of this, but this person forced my hand.

I can't let this person run around on this hellsite anymore.

For those not in the know, this person harasses artists into drawing their husbando: a rat character named "Grey" from the children's series "Larva Island". Sometimes they also harass people into drawing Grey's grandpa, a female version of Grey named "Greyless", Grey wearing Roxanne's dress from "A Goofy Movie", and plenty of parodies of the opening scene of said movie. Like, they subjected one person to draw that same sequence with different characters like 6-7 times. And the "best" part? Sometimes they steal the poor victim's art to claim it as their own. And sometimes, they create edits of them WITHOUT CREDITING THE ORIGINAL ARTISTS. And when they do get caught, they apologize. A lot. But that's only a front to get respect again.

Her husbando

And I was one of their unfortunate victims. This person is weird as all hell; they ship this rat with Pibby (a character that is canonically from a preschool show), Meilin Lee (A hecking 13 year old girl), and Adrienn themselves.

The rat, according to the user, is 15 while the female version of the rest, his girlfriend, is 12.

Adrienn themselves are either 17 or 19.

The fandoms they follow are: -Courage the Cowardly Dog -Friday Night Funkin -Learning with Pibby -Little Nightmares -Turning Red -Anything Disney related (Goofy mostly) -Steven Universe -Made in Abyss -Road to El Dorado -Eddsworld -Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles -Super Mario series and, most importantly, Larva.

She stole my artwork just to make crappy edits

adrienn, flat out admitting that they steal art from people

It's already kind of weird enough, but then I did more digging on this person. They have a butt ton of accounts on a multitude of social media websites. They have a few on reddit, a few on wikia, one on vimeo, and a few on behance, of all places. They have a long history of harassing users, especially on reddit and wikia. They have the most accounts on Tumblr, with five (two of them are inactive.) The second biggest is wikia, with four. The earliest accounts were on DeviantArt, which makes a lot of sense. Oh, but it gets better. They have uncensored nsfw content on two tumblrs. This is from one of their accounts. I am not going to show you the image, but I'm going to show you the tags:

I mean, I'm glad that they tagged it as "rule 34", but I'm more surprised about how tumblr didn't purge those posts or ban the user entirely. So, if you see someone with any of these accounts ask you to draw this rat, dump the ask and block em. Hell, even report them if you need to : https://adrienn-banai-09.tumblr.com/ (WARNING, NSFW CONTENT AHEAD) https://adriennbanai09.tumblr.com/ (Not as nsfw as the one above, but still, nsfw) https://andreabanai.tumblr.com/ https://adriennsposts.tumblr.com/ (currently active) https://adriennbanai-09.tumblr.com/ (currently inactive) https://adriennbanai-2022.tumblr.com They may also go by "zoltanbanai", so keep your eyes out.

And Adrienn/Andrea, if you are reading this, I urge you to take a break from the internet and get some help. As I said multiple times, this behavior will not help you make friends. It will only make more enemies. I am an autistic just like you (probably. idk) and I really don't want to put you down like this, but you're already weirding a bunch of people out. Though you probably won't listen to me anyway, since apparently in your eyes the word "no" is just an unspoken "yes".

And please don't harass this person or send them death threats. Doing that just makes you a bad person.

I hope this is the last time I talk about this person, because I don't really have the time or the patience to deal with stupid bullcrap like this.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. The clorox brain bleach is on the right side of the exits.

#important #psa #cw: weird shit #cw: kinda suggestive #art theft #grey rat saga

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who-knew-a-sheep-can-write · 1 month

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Wait: Genji Shimada x Reader

Fear.

That’s all that rushed through his person as he pushed past doors and people, muttering apologies in his native tongue as he launched himself around corners and down hallways.

Fear.

He could barely breathe. He couldn’t speak clearly, rambling under his tongue in cut off words and phrases. He made no sense.

Fear.

What was left of his human parts were coiled tightly, precise, not missing a single beat against the metal floor of the Overwatch base. Metal feet colliding against the hard metal floors like a rabid symphony, scratches and cracking and squeaking and scuffing. It truly bled the ears.

Fear.

He knew no longer of the monk’s words. The painful trials of learning patience and long grueling time of relearning how to feel again were thrown out the window.

Fear.

The heat coming off of his face blinded him, steaming up the faceplates covering his face. His face was red under the metal coverings. Wet too, from salty tears and dribbles of snot like he were some scared little child again.

Fear.

Fear of losing you.

But his older brother followed. The older Shimada matched his younger’s speed once he took off from his place in one of the training rooms towards the medical bay. Upon turning the corner towards the sterile door, Hanzo had snatched at Genji’s shoulders, yanking him back. Folding the arms at the elbows, Hanzo grabbed Genji’s wrists and pressed him against the wall.

Both panting, Hanzo glared at his younger brother.

Footsteps could be heard follow, the jingle of spurs had followed, along with the calm calls of Genji’s master.

“You need to calm down,” Hanzo scolded. “What good will you running amuck do for them? In the state that they are in? You could distract them! They could slip up! They could die!”

“Let me go, anija!” Genji spat, attempting to yank himself away from the older Shimada. “I need to see them!”

Instead, he only grunted as Hanzo pressed him closer to the wall.

“Not until you calm down.”

Cole and Zenyatta had rounded the corner, the cowboy out of breath and grasping at his knees, panting like a wild dog. Zenyatta tilted his head towards his student before humming softly.

Hanzo and Cole alike were both shocked to see the omnic suddenly stand on two feet. In their time of knowing Zenyatta at the base, the omnic always seemed to defy the laws of gravity and float everywhere in a lotus position.

“Let go of his wrists, Hanzo,” he calmly advised, placing his metal hand on top of Genji’s tense shoulder. The older brother hesitated before sighing, releasing Genji’s wrists. “He is right, Genji. You cannot panic now for their safety and health. Miss Ziegler and the other medics are doing what they can to help them.”

Just as Genji opened his mouth, the door opened. Ana Amari stepped out, adjusting her eyepatch as a tear slipped from under the black cover. She was shocked to see the four outside, but eyed Genji the most. Her eyes softened before she sighed.

“Ana?” Cassidy whispered.

“They’ve lost a lot of blood. Angela is doing what she can to save them,” she mumbled. She stepped away from the door. “You can sit in the viewer if you need to, but… I wouldn’t stay long.”

Upon hearing those words, Genji rushed inside only to stop dead in his tracks at the window. One way, bright, crowded. A small screen sat in the corner, a view from above looking down on…

Genji felt Cole’s hand on his shoulder, but paid no mind to it as he watched your face.

Stitches across your face, bruised, bloody still and bandaged to all hell. You had caught in an explosion in Dorado, Los Muertos’ doing. You were in a small building when it had happened.

If you were right outside…

Genji didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened.

He could already see some equipment that took him back to when he was initiated into Blackwatch. Cybernetics.

You had lost a body part… Maybe more. He remembered how devastating it was for him to lose both of his legs and a whole forearm.

“Genj…” Cassidy murmured, “they’ll be alright.”

He could only imagine how terrified you were, how much you were screaming and crying from the agony. Reinhardt had told him you were strong though, even as he and Morrison dug through the wreckage to find you. He saw how the old German warrior was saddened that even he couldn’t stop this from happening.

He felt like he would vomit right there.

Cole and Hanzo stepped outside after Zenyatta waved them off. The two were left in near silence. They could only hear your faint heartbeat fluttering every now and then.

“I know that this is a hard time for you, Genji,” Zenyatta hummed. He placed a hand on Genji’s shoulder and watched the screen with his student. Precise fingers worked on your body, tools were passed and needles dug in and out of your skin, sealing it closed as other needles numbed your body. “I know that you are suffering, that time is cruel to you as to us all during this tragedy. But know that even as time may take away what we love the most and how it may bring pain and agony, know that time will also heal all wounds and time will allow you both to grow. But sadly, all we can do now is wait.”

Genji said nothing, only letting his shoulders slouch. He was defeated. There was nothing the ninja could do now but wait just as his master had said.

“How about we meditate on this and we can discuss how we can help them after they wake up? Perhaps brightening up your shared quarters with some flowers?”

Genji looked to his master before smiling. Zenyatta, all the wiser, knew despite the faceplates blocking his view, that his student would do so at the drop of a pin.

And so the two sat in the viewing room, listening to your heartbeat slowly growing stronger.

#overwatch #genji shimada #genji x reader #genji shimada x reader

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