#we survived every other technological advancement

[afantasyoffiction]

maybe it’s all gonna be ok maybe ai will lead to more human-created art not less maybe humanity’s spirit will survive itself once again

[fat-fuck-hairy-belly]

Sociology should be a mandatory course for all STEM students. The amount of people that think we just need "technology” to solve all our problems is frankly scary. Take basically any problem we face today and the root cause is always societal. You could create some magical new technology that creates 100% free and clean electricity with no cost to operate it or to distribute it, and the capitalists will still find a way to monopolize and monetize it. You could make a miracle machine that builds houses out of thin air at no cost and we'd still have a housing crisis. You can completely automate the production of absolutely everything and people will still have to spend 90% of their life working for pennies to survive. Every time we've developed some new technology that's meant to make our lives better the capitalists just used it to further consolidate their power. Advancement in technology without appropriate societal changes don't make things better. You can go back to 100AD and give Romans all the modern weapons and medicine and fertilizer and shit, and the Roman empire will still fall, because they'll just continue killing each other in constant civil wars and resulting famines and plagues, except now they'll do it with F16s.

[brucewaynehater101]

Pre-Batman Time Traveling Tim AU:

CW: OG Bruce is a more comic accurate POS

Tim's life is fine. If anyone bothered to ask him, that's how he'd respond.

He's been a vigilante for over a decade, he's set to inherit WE, and he'll occasionally see his siblings.

Sure, he has to avoid Bruce at all costs while tediously (and unnoticeably) stalking the man's movements so that he can intervene anytime Bruce tries to attack his siblings.

That's an old hat by now, though. At least it brought Tim just a bit closer to the other kids Bruce "raised."

So, life is alright. It's not bad. It's not good. It just is for Tim. He was fine with it until he was chucked into an alternative reality with no reliable way to get home.

For some fucking reason, he arrives years before Timothy Drake is born. There's no Flash, no JL, and no record of time travel/alternative realities quite yet. Hell, there isn't even a Batman. Bruce is still traveling abroad to train.

There's absolutely nothing... And it's eerie. Crime in Gotham is at an all-time high, Gordon isn't commissioner (meaning the GCPD hasn't been cleaned up yet), and there are no rogues. It's just normal and frequent crime.

Tim tries. He really really tries not to mess with anything and focus on getting home... but he's been a vigilante for over a decade. He's incapable of not responding to people in need.

And, unless he re-invents a significant portion of technological advancement, Tim won't be able to go home for years. He's trying not to think about it, how he's trapped without any of his resources or allies, but it's an inescapable fact. He's stuck here and, while he's bidding his time, it's better for him to focus on how different Gotham is (and by the gods is every piece of technology so fucking slow and clunky and ancient).

Fuck. Bruce is lucky that Tim isn't following in Red Hood's footsteps because getting away with crime is so fucking easy now. The technology is old, most records are paper, and Gotham officials accept briberies as if they are regular parts of their jobs. In fact, Tim's forgery is simple in comparison to the ones he's had to do before. If Tim wasn't trying to clean up Gotham, it would be child's play to become top dog of crime.

Overall, he manages to start a technology buisness that instantly takes off with his success (using his future knowledge might be cheating, but fuck it. He's going to need clean money for his plans). He isn't able to keep either of his last names for obvious reasons, but his forged identity still maintains "Timothy."

While Bruce is abroad, Tim painstakingly rearranges Gotham's underworld, weeds out corruption, and bolsters his vigilante persona. He focuses on rehab programs, increasing clean job opportunities, increasing access to affordable healthcare, and overall decreasing reliance on crime to survive (if he ensures that a Willis Todd is hired at his company, then that's simply a bit of helpless meddling). He also attempts to carefully take down the CoO and monitor the LoA.

How is he managing all of this while also patrolling near nightly? Practice. Years of practice with juggling his many responsibilities in life. At least he doesn't have any social or familial requirements to also manage.

It's a delicate balancing act.

One that almost gets completely thrown by Batman's first appearance.

Tim has been Gotham's only vigilante for two years now. Even though this Bruce is older than Tim (a 28 to Tim's 26), the younger man can't help but to think of Bruce as a baby vigilante.

Don't get him wrong. Bruce is highly, highly trained. He's skilled in various forms of combat, is strategic, and is extremely capable. That doesn't change how new he is to vigilantism. It doesn't change how he hasn't yet established his patterns, modes of engagement, and equipment. He's new to every aspect... which is why it shouldn't surprise Tim when Batman commits murder.

To be fair to Tim, he completely forgot that Bruce hasn't always had his moral code. It is such an integral part of the man that has caused him and his loved ones a great deal of pain. The idea that Batman didn't always believe this?

Tim called into work for a week so he could stare at his apartment walls for three days and then plan.

[maxdibert]

Having a shitty past is no excuse for being a horrible person, and Snape was a horrible person. Snape fans always try to turn him into a tragic hero, but there was nothing heroic about him when he was just an obsessive bigot who followed a group of genocidal maniacs

Well, I think I’ve said this a million times already and explained in exhausting detail why growing up in a particular environment—lacking social, emotional, economic, or essential support—and being subjected to violence during the most crucial years of cognitive development creates the perfect breeding ground for antisocial behavior. It also makes vulnerable or socially excluded youth prime targets for sectarian groups (whether religious, political, or otherwise) that prey on their situation, offering them promises of protection, safe spaces, surrogate parental figures, or social progress. These groups actively seek out kids with emotional voids caused by dysfunctional family dynamics, minimal to no financial resources, and a profound sense that the system has failed them at every turn. They offer these kids an alternative system—one that gives them a roof over their heads, a hot meal, a place to belong, and people who won’t marginalize them like the rest of society has—at the simple price of blindly following the group’s ideology. And they do it. Of course, they do. Because what other choice do they have? This group gave them life, a place in society, and restored their status as human beings.

But since I’ve spoken about this at length before and about how Severus’s life shaped his decisions, I feel like I’m starting to sound like a broken record. So, since I’m also reading a legal ruling I need to memorize by Friday, I’m going to indulge myself and dissertate as freely as I please—because hey, if you’re going to throw hate, I’m going to grant myself the privilege of replying however I want.

Here’s a question: why does it even matter? Seriously, what does it matter if he was a shitty person? Do you know that people go to space today thanks to the work of physicists and engineers who were literal SS members? That after WWII, all the top scientists, physicists, chemists, and engineers were granted amnesty and fast-tracked into citizenships so they could work on government projects? That people working within a stone’s throw of concentration camps are the pioneers behind some of the greatest technological advances of the 20th century? And you don’t care that the products you consume are derived from the work of collaborators with mass genocide, but you’re upset that people find a fictional character interesting? I don’t want to sound cynical, but honestly, it’s ridiculous to get so morally high and mighty about a character who doesn’t exist and who followed an extremist cult for, what? 3 or 4 years tops? and then canonically worked actively to take it down. If we put Severus in a real-world, wartime context, the guy would be a literal war hero with medals to his name. No exaggeration. If he survived, he’d be recruited with a fat paycheck to work in internal affairs for some major world power’s secret projects. That’s just how the world works.

And yeah, he was obsessive. But in an era where everyone suffers at least one anxiety episode a month, where the best-case scenario is that your panic attacks don’t spiral into chronic mental health issues—can we really judge him for that? Like, most of the people I see being ultra “snater” are folks who openly declare themselves neurodivergent, and one of the common denominators of all neurodivergence is obsessiveness. All of them. Whether it’s chronic anxiety, depression, OCD, ADHD, paranoid schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder or autism. Every single one has an obsessive component. So it’s kind of ironic—and even hypocritical—for people who are themselves pretty obsessive (because let’s face it, we’re all compulsively doomscrolling here to soothe our anxious compulsions with little dopamine hits) to judge this character’s obsessiveness as a negative trait. Maybe let’s take a good look in the mirror, too.

And let me just say, no court would convict Severus of collaborating with a terrorist group. Not a single one. Impossible. Especially since he literally collaborated against said group, so any judge would happily clear him—not after the war, but the moment he struck his deal with Dumbledore. Severus is what’s known as an informant. He worked from the inside, exposed himself to greater dangers than regular agents. Legally speaking, there have been cases where people guilty of heinous crimes—including crimes against humanity—were let off because they provided critical information. So imagine someone like Severus, who, as far as we know, didn’t even kill anyone during his time in the group, willingly spilling the beans and agreeing to work as a spy. He’d be celebrated as a hero of war. Hell, they’d probably buy him a mansion in Florida if he wanted one. That’s just how our system works, and honestly, this kind of moralist posturing is pretty cringy because you’re talking about a guy who literally saved half of magical society’s asses and without whom the kid destined to save the world would’ve died in his first year at school.

You can dislike him or think he’s a jerk, but he was damn good at his job. And compared to the people he’s often unfairly measured against (Sirius, James, Remus...), he actually did something. They didn’t. Absolutely nothing. Contribution: negative one.

[brittle-doughie]

I got an idea based on this song https://youtu.be/vjBFftpQxxM?si=UVR7kg-LV8dVgiKf (If the link doesn't work, the song name is "BUTCHER VANITY" by Vane).

Y/n who's secretly a cannibal becomes curious and interested on how other living beings other than cookies taste like, they then kill and eat one of every sugary animals (Gummy snakes, gummy frogs, ect.)

After Y/n ate one of every living thing that was sentient sweet food they found another living animal, it looked similar yet different from the sugary foxes they ate before. They would then kill and eat the fox, the taste of meat was new and refreshing, and they would crave for more. This would then lead to Y/n to have a bigger appetite, a crave for meat, slowly become a crazy biologist and become an engineer that's able to make very advanced technology.

This would go on until Y/n gained interest in the witches. They wanted to know how they work and what they taste like. They may die, but it would be worth it.

So they not only survived the encouter with the witch, killed the witch with no magic and with just simple contraptions and do it sucessfully on the first try, Y/n did this TWICE. The first one had her skin, fats, muscles, bones, and organs displayed, preserved and is kept in working condition by Y/n's technology to prevent them from rotting away; the second one was killed off for the sake of eating. It's at this point Y/n's hunger has become apparent and obvious to their fellow cookies, cookies who try to follow Y/n to where they eat are then reported missing. Any cookie who's invited to dinner by Y/n will see the sides of the walls have preserved body parts of animals just like the witch; they are forced fed meat then are killed to be eaten by Y/n. Did I forget to mention that the parts of the witch are behind Y/n's seat on the surgery dinner table?

If it's alright with you could we get reactions and a small scenario for each reaction that explains how they found out what Y/n's been doing behind their backs? Especially certain groups (cookies of darkness ect.) and the more powerful cookies(legendaries, dragons, ancients, and the beasts).

Brittle I HEAVILY apologize for how long this is, big ideas like this are hard for me to keep simple and short.

The grounded cookie based groups of the Ancients, CoD, and Legendaries would be horrified at the prospect. How something as simple as consuming a gummy snake would lead to something as large scale and dangerous as hunting actual witches. Dark Enchantress might take some solace that her revenge against the witches have taken some form, but the methods being very grim.

The Beasts could see and understand the darkness and evil that could come from such an act and likely show little sympathy since the witches showed them little care, Shadow Milk particularly might applaud you for your work, though Burning Spice might be stern with you for making unnecessary messes with your kills.

The Dragons probably would show the least amount of care towards the situation, as long as you weren’t after dragons at least. Ananas might be a little cagey if you ever came towards his island where their cookies resided. Maybe Pitaya or Longan could see some respect in your brutality, but Lotus finds it too hard to look at.

[artbyblastweave]

After three chapters, one of my big takeaways is that Seek seems really conceptually interested in parents and parenting.

You've got A, raised by parents whose superficial commitment to A's self-determination and self-identification are completely undercut by the invasive dystopian cyberware they use to control them, coupled with the (what I believe to be the) implication that the double edged sword of the post-scarcity future is that A's only reason to exist is that their parents wanted a child- spending their entire childhood being shot down any time they express interest in a career path that could give their life meaning outside of that. All of which feels like the logical terminal point of parenting as a vanity thing. Then you've got Winnifred, whose parents are vastly more involved, attentive, and invested- but in a way that goes hand in hand with a sometimes-uncomfortable spiritual and ideological investment, which in turn manifests as a regiment of full-body invasive modifications so that their child can perpetuate and participate in their culture and lifestyle.

Then you've got Orion, whose "birth" is his much more metaphorical escape from the cryopod (complete with associated womb imagery); out of the three he's arguably the most "liberated" from the context of the people who chose to create him or put him in this situation- popping out of his "womb" with imprinted skills and knowledge and only vague memories- but given the overall survival-horror nature of his situation that's not actually any kind of improvement. (It would frankly dovetail incredibly well with the theory I've seen that it's actually an Onboard who's taken control of a braindead human- total hands off parenting, he was put in this situation by entities that don't even realize he's alive.)

All of which is circling and circling around the central reality of parenting, which is that it's not just something that happens, it's a choice, any way you choose to go about it's a choice. And in our current context there's only really a couple ways to make that choice and they're all a few degrees off from each other anyway, so it fades into the background. But in a society with advanced enough technology that you've really got options, the fact that you're making any choice at all- and the resultant horrible consequences every possible choice will have for your kid- becomes way way more visible. Truly, a web serial aligned with my heartfelt belief that We Are Never Getting Out Of Here

[spacerockfloater]

“The Targaryens/ Valyrians are not white supremacists and can’t be compared to European Colonisers!”

Oh? My bad then. I must have them confused with some other white folks who thought their appearance made them superior, brought whole continents to heel, exploited the lands of others for their own greed, destroyed whole civilizations and enslaved vulnerable people who unfortunately lacked the advanced weapons of mass destruction they possessed.

“Well, the Andals and the First Men were also colonisers, so they deserved it!”

No way! Are you actually telling me that every race has a history of violence because human nature itself is corrupt and we’re no better than animals fighting for their place on this earth? That’s so crazy and original. By the way, are you saying that people deserved to get colonised and enslaved because they were fighting other people in order to survive? Are you suggesting these “savages” should have been contained by the righteous white folks who came there to better their lives? Not to mention that the Andals and the First Men came to Westeros 12,000 and 6,000 years ago respectively, while the Targaryens attacked Westeros barely 130 years ago (literally just 3 - 4 generations) from the Dance of the Dragons? So are you comparing the morality of the people who migrated here, who were so primitive that barely even possessed weapons of steel, with that of the most advanced civilization ever built in the ASOIAF universe? That’s so interesting! It’s almost as if the Andals and the First Men didn’t know any better until it was too late and were trying to find a land that could accommodate their millions of people, so they were essentially fighting for survival, whereas the Targaryens who came from a race that had evolved philosophically, politically, academically and technologically wise, possessed enough wealth and land to sustain their little family, yet still chose to go to war against the land that nurtured them out of pure greed! Hmmm. Do you also believe that the Greeks had it coming when they were enslaved by the Ottomans and should just let go of the past because it’s been so long since they regained their freedom (barely 200 years ago btw, after 4 centuries of slavery), because their Ancient Ancestral Tribes migrated to Greece and conquered the land 3,500 years ago, a little after the age of bronze? No? Then you might see why that kind thinking is flawed.

Stop defending these inbred bastards with your full chest. We get it. They look badass. We all have a fave war criminal but all of the Targs need to be put to the sword, along with their fucking lizards. Purposely denying the parallels between the Targaryens/ Valyrians and the Colonisers/ Conquerors of our world screams white saviour complex.

[lune-moon-nuit]

Does our future depend on technology?

Since the Industrial Revolution, technology has established itself as a major driver of human progress, profoundly transforming our lifestyles, knowledge, and relationship to the world. From medical breakthroughs to information technologies, through automation, technology seems to guide the major directions of our future. But can we truly say that our future depends on technology? Does this mean that technology determines our destiny, as an unavoidable, even uncontrollable force? Or should we understand that, while humanity's future is shaped by technology, it still relies on other dimensions — ethical, political, spiritual — that technology cannot encompass?

Thus, we shall ask: Is technology the necessary and sufficient condition for our future, or is it merely one means among others, subordinate to more fundamental human choices?

We will first examine how technology appears to be the primary engine of human evolution and thus of our future. Then, we will show that it does not necessarily guarantee a desirable future and that it cannot by itself guide humanity. Finally, we will argue that if our future does depend on technology, it is insofar as we choose how to use it — which brings us back to our ethical and political responsibility.

I. Technology as the decisive engine of human development

Technology, understood as the set of means invented by humans to transform their environment, is one of the fundamental traits of humanity. Since prehistoric times, the use of tools has distinguished Homo habilis from its ancestors: technology appears as consubstantial to our species, as Henri Bergson points out in Creative Evolution: “Man is the being who makes tools.”

Since then, every technological advance has marked a major turning point in history: writing, printing, the steam engine, electricity, the Internet… all these inventions have radically changed our societies, our modes of production, communication, and thought. Today, innovations in artificial intelligence, biotechnology, robotics, or energy heavily shape economic models, public policies, and ecological prospects for tomorrow.

In this sense, the future seems to depend on our ability to invent new technologies, to respond with technical means to the challenges of our time: climate crisis, pandemics, aging populations, resource scarcity. From a deterministic perspective, technology appears not only as a driving force but as a condition for humanity’s survival. This is what Heidegger discusses in The Question Concerning Technology, when he asserts that modern technology is no longer merely a tool, but a “challenging” of nature — a way of extracting all its available resources. It shapes our worldview, and therefore, our future.

II. But a future governed solely by technology is dangerous and illusory

However, to consider that our future depends exclusively on technology is to forget that it does not think for itself. It is a means, not an end. It is at the service of human intentions — for better or for worse. History abounds in examples of technology being used for destructive purposes: nuclear weapons, mass surveillance, uncontrolled genetic manipulation. As Hans Jonas warns, technological progress does not necessarily imply moral progress.

Technology can therefore both serve the future and harm it, depending on how it is used. It is a power that is fundamentally ambivalent. The atomic bomb and radiation therapy both use nuclear energy, but their aims are radically different. Far from automatically ensuring a better future, technology raises fundamental ethical questions: how far should we go in manipulating life? Are we still free in a world dominated by algorithms? Who truly benefits from technological innovation?

Consequently, reducing the future to a technical dependency would be to deny humanity’s capacity to choose, to exercise free will. It would mean abandoning our future to a logic of efficiency and profitability that ignores essential values such as justice, freedom, or human dignity.

III. Our future depends on technology, insofar as we remain its masters

Rather than viewing technology as a fatality, we must acknowledge that our future depends on how we design, regulate, and direct it. Humans remain the originators of technology: it is the fruit of our inventive mind, but also of our collective choices. In this sense, our future depends on technology only insofar as we integrate it within a broader political, philosophical, and ethical vision.

Hannah Arendt, in The Human Condition, emphasizes the distinction between labor, work, and action. While technology belongs to the domain of “work” — that is, fabrication — “action” involves freedom and responsibility. It is through political action, democratic debate, education, and critical reflection that humanity can direct the use of technology toward a desirable future.

Moreover, some of the most crucial questions for our future — such as the meaning of life, social justice, the relationship to others or to nature — cannot be answered by technology. These questions concern our deepest humanity. Technology can offer solutions to problems, but it does not define what a good life is, what a just world is, or what a harmonious society looks like. These concerns belong to philosophy, culture, and ethics.

Therefore, our future does not depend on technology per se, but on our ability to inscribe it within a vision of the world that is both humane and responsible.

Conclusion

It would be unrealistic to deny that technology plays a fundamental role in shaping our future: it transforms our ways of living, addresses major challenges, and opens unprecedented possibilities. But it is not neutral, nor self-sufficient. The future cannot rely solely on a means, without reflection on the ends.

Thus, our future does depend on technology, not as a fatality, but as a choice — the choice to use it for the common good, in accordance with human values. The real question is not whether technology will shape our future, but whether we will be able to shape technology toward a truly human future.

[weirdmorefics]

Hi! Can I send in a request for being another timelord who travels with the 9th doctor and Rose Tyler being like a sister figure to Y/N?

A/N- Yes yes yes!!! I have actually had an idea for something like this just hadn't written it yet.

Readers Pronouns- She/Her

Word Count- 3.9k

Summary- (BASED ON S1 E6) The Doctor and Rose find themselves in a bunker in Utah full of alien artifacts. They are shocked to find some of these artifacts are alive and not here of their own free will. You just so happen to be one of these artifacts.

The Slightly Behind Timelord

I used to keep track of how many days I'd been chained and experimented on but the days quickly turned into months and the months turned to years. I've long since lost hope of ever returning to Gallifrey. It was in shambles when I was last home, the war was constant. I was a coward and stole my parent's Tardis to escape from having to fight. A stupid coward who didn't check if it was in working condition to only have crashed and ended up imprisoned by a man who I know as Mr. Van Statten. I should have stayed and fought then at least I would have died with dignity.

I have refused to talk since my arrival. I may have betrayed Gallifrey by fleeing but I refuse to make things worse than they already are there. Nevertheless, Mr. Van Statten comes and talks to me every single day asking about about my ship. They have dissected the TARDIS piece by piece. I secretly hope it burns them alive. When Mr. Van Statten inevitably gets nothing out of me he sends in a man an orange suit to torture it out of me. It never works but they do not stop.

Today was different they had a new man with them, he was restrained and they strapped him to the walls like me. I wonder if this was a new torture strategy.

"Look here we got you a friend maybe now you will do some talking," Van Statten says cheerfully.

I look at the man with pity knowing they are going to torture him as well. Van Statten's men unchain me and drag me to the other side of the room. I don't even fight them anymore I don't have the energy to spare.

Van Statten powers up his inhumane X-ray and says, "Smile!"

The man screams in pain as the red beam scans him and Van Statten smiles in glee at the results.

"Two hearts! A binary vascular system! Here I thought you were special," he shouts a glare in my direction and the man chained up widens his eyes.

The man doesn't look at Van Statten but puts his focus on me, "Where are you from?"

"No point in talking to her she hasn't spoken since we tore her from the rubble of her ship. She put up quite the fight when we started dissembling her ship screaming you are killing her. Then not a single word," he sighs in disappointment shaking his head at me. "I would get rid of her now that I have you but I need more information about the ship."

I suck in a breath they kill without care here, I wonder if everyone on this planet is like that. The man chained is certainly not from here maybe he can get me out. However, he is looking at me like I am unreal so perhaps not.

If looks could kill Van Statten would certainly be dead from this man's fiery gaze, "You're not a collector you're a scavenger."

"This technology has been falling to earth for centuries I am simply just making use of it. Oh the advances I've made from alien junk you have no idea, Doctor," he grins but I quickly interrupt.

I gasp, "The Doctor! Has Gallifrey won the war! How are you here?"

Van Satten's grin turns to a full-blown smile, "First you make the Dalek talk now my longest surviving exhibit! You truly are something!"

"there- there is uh... a Dalek here," I whisper afraid to speak their name.

The Doctor looks at me eyes full of guilt and astonishment, he still looks at me as if I am not here.

"Thank you again Doctor so much for getting her to talk keep her talking for me why don't you? Since you all seem so scared of said Dalek, I think I will go back and try to have a word with it. I find fear is the best motivator to get people spending, " Van Statten is practically glowing with joy and I wish I could smack the joy right off.

The Doctor wrestles with his chains trying to break free, "You can't go in there with it! Now that it knows that I am here it will come looking for me! No one on this planet will be safe!"

His screams fill me with fear if I could throw up right now I would but they hardly ever feed me so there is nothing to throw up so I end up hyperventilating. Mr. Van Statten ends up shocking the Doctor and his angry words are replaced with painful screams.

I struggle against my chains screaming at the top of my lungs, "He tells the truth! You don't stand a chance against the Daleks! The war lasted centuries on Gallifrey here you will be lucky to last day!"

Van Statten looks at me in awe, "Wow full sentences maybe you will prove useful after all these years."

Nothing I say to this psychotic man will ever get into that thick skull of his, I would facepalm if my hands weren't shackled to the wall.

Alarms sound and angry red lights flash, my heart sinks, it's to late.

The Doctor's tone shifts from begging to demanding, "Release me if you want to live."

Van Statten quickly makes work of the chains holding the Doctor down and runs for the door.

The Doctor points to me, "Forgetting someone?"

Van Statten waves him off, "We haven't the time!"

"You need all the information you can get on Daleks, let her out now!" he shouts leaving no room for questions and Van Statten quickly does the command.

My legs feel like jelly as we run into the elevator I can't remember the last time I've walked unchained let alone run. I felt so out of place, especially in a ratty hospital gown.

"You have to keep it caged," he shouts to Van Statten's lackeys.

"Doctor it's all my fault," a blonde says apologetically on the screen.

A guard informs us that he has sealed off the exits and the lock as a million combos no way the thing's getting out. I shake my head at his idiocy I just hope this blonde girl is also a timelord, the more the better.

"Daleks are genius they can figure out a billion combinations in ten seconds flat." The Doctor informs.

The Dalek quickly figures out how to exit the moment I see it on the screen I cover my mouth in horror.

"Don't shoot I want it unharmed!" Van Statten shouts.

"Are you that dense! You would rather a whole planet die than lose a collection piece!" I shout at the man who held me captive for years and swing a punch at his face which earns me the pleasant crunch noise from his nose.

two guards pull me away from him as I smile for the first time in ages. The Doctor doesn't seem to notice the commotion shouting for the blonde whose name is apparently Rose to run.

I look back to the screen to see the Dalek destroying the screen connection. I feared the sucker would go right through the screen and appear before me like a Weeping Angel. I stumbled backward but the guards just tugged harder to keep me in place. I groaned in response to the uncomfortable position.

The Doctor's head whipped in the direction of the noise in high alert, "let her go! You are focused on the wrong alien here!"

The guards look to Van Statten for his approval, "She's got one hell of a right hook, I'll give her that... drop her.

The guards took this a little too literally and dropped me directly on my ass, as the others make their way to the computer.

"Oh my god, it's draining the whole power supply," the woman with us gasped.

"It's not just the energy it's the whole internet, it knows everything," The Doctor states.

"Cameras in the vault our down," the woman relays.

"It's going to absorb everything," I sigh

"We have to kill it now!" The Doctor shouts.

We watch soldiers die again and again through the surveillance cameras. It's Gallifrey all over again I can't escape it, but maybe I can help this time instead of running away.

"Tell them to stop shooting!" Van Statten says but I am seriously praying this is a very cruel joke.

"But it's killing them!" The woman shouted back.

"They're dispensable that Dalek is unique. I don't want a single scratch on it!" he shouts to the lifeless soldiers.

I clench my fists, "You are asking me to hurt you! You are putting lives over a killer," I shout getting in his face his guards instantly stand up preparing for me to strike him again which probably wasn't far off thinking.

"He's an idiot we need to focus," The Doctor interrupts and I return my gaze to the map as they discuss alien weapons.

"There has to be a way to keep it alive, maybe we trap it down there-"

The Doctor cuts him off, "Leaving everyone trapped with it? Rose is down there. I won't let that happen, have you got that?"

That seems to shut Van Statten up for once thank god.

"Who is Rose? Is she from Gallifrey? Did you two come here to stop the last Dalek? Does that mean Gallifrey is safe again?" I ramble many questions at once.

"Doesn't talk for years now you don't shut up," he glares at me like this whole situation is somehow my fault.

The Doctor frowns, "Leave her be Statten." He ignores my questions and tells them to arm all the soldiers with alien weapons it's the only way to beat it. Then he directs the soldiers on how to kill a Dalek always aim for the eye the soldiers shut him down.

"I can't help but think everyone on this planet is insanely dense," I sigh.

The doctor smirks, " There are some good humans out there, you wouldn't know being stuck here with these imbeciles."

Van Statten's glare burns into The Doctor I feel the heat of the glare just from the proximity.

"We have visuals again," the woman informs and all of our eyes dart to the computer.

"It wants us to see," The Doctor growled.

We all stare in shock as the Dalek uses the sprinklers to electrocute and kill all the soldiers at once.

"Perhaps we should consider a different strategy like abandoning the place," Van Statten nervously stumbles over his words. I had never seen him like this he always seemed confident when torturing me. If this were any other situation I would be overjoyed to see him like this. I wish I was the one to make him feel like this, not the Dalek.

The woman glares at him, "Except there's no power to the helipad, sir."

"You said we could seal the vault," The Doctor interrupts their glaring showdown.

"There's not enough power!" she shouts.

"There's emergency power we could redirect it to the bulkhead door," The Doctor defends.

"It would take a computer genius to get through the security codes!" The woman says frustrated.

"Good thing you got me," Mr. Van Statten smiles.

"You wanna help?" The Doctor asks shocked.

"No there is no way he wants to help! It is physically impossible he has no empathy. This has to be a trick!" I shout.

"It's not out of empathy, I don't want to die as simple as that. This could have been avoided if you talked in the first place. I would have known what it was capable of years ago." He shouts back at me.

The camera turns back on and the Dalek's voice fills the room, "I shall only speak to the doctor."

"You are gonna get rusty," he responds to the Dalek who still getting soaked by the sprinkler system.

"I don't think now is a great time for jokes Doctor," I whisper.

"I fed off the DNA of Rose Tyler. Extrapolating the biomass of a time-traveler regenerated me," the Dalek speaks.

"What's your next trick," the Doctor rolls his eyes.

"I have been searching for the Daleks," it responds.

"Yeah, I saw downloading the entire internet. What did you see?" He saunters around the table.

"I searched your radio signals and telescopes," it responds.

I anxiously pick at the scabs already forming from when I punched Satten. What will happen if this Dalek happens to find more Daleks? What if he isn't the last one.

The Doctor seems completely unphased, "and find anything?"

"Nothing, Where shall I get my order from now!" It screams loudly.

"Nothing but a solider without any commands," the Doctor teases.

I look at him in shock he can't possibly think it's a good thing to rile up at a Dalek more.

"Then I shall follow my primary order, the Dalek instinct to conquer and destroy," it responds.

"What for! What's the point!" The Doctor shouts his facade slipping. "Don't you see everything is gone, everything you stood for."

"Then what should I do?" The Dalek actually seemed to have an emotion other than hatred. Many emotions. I would have felt bad for it if not for all they have done against Gallifrey.

"Alright, then. If you want orders follow this one. Kill yourself," the doctor responds coldly.

I look up at him with wide eyes this is not the Doctor they spoke of on Gallifrey the mischievous one who was too smart for his own good. This Doctor was cold and harsh with his words.

"The Daleks must live on," the Dalek shouts in a familiar rage that all Daleks have.

"The Daleks have failed! Why don't you finish the job and make the Daleks extinct! Rid the universe of your filth! Why don't you just die, " The Doctor shouts back such cruel words that I am worried that the Dalek will retaliate immediately.

"You would make a good Dalek," it responds and I think I have officially heard the worst insult anyone could make toward a Gallifreyian.

I put my hand on the Doctor's arm, " I am so sorry."

The Doctor does not look at me he looks broken but yells to Statten, "Seal the vaults!"

"She's still down there," the woman whispers to the doctor.

He calls Rose on his phone to get updates on her location he cares so much about this Rose she has to be a Time Lady like me. I can't imagine the Doctor having much time to visit other planets after the war.

He relays to her that he can't stop the gate from closing she has to run. He waits as long as he can and apologizes before shutting the vault. He frantically asks if she made it but his face quickly sets into a deep frown.

He quickly pulls off his earpiece, "I killed her."

Van Statten says, "I'm sorry." I have never heard him say sorry before I haven't heard the word sorry in so long it sounds foreign.

"I was supposed to protect! She was only here because of me! And you're sorry? I could have killed that Dalek in its cell but you stopped me."

"It was the prize of my collection!" He defended.

I shook my head hard, "You valued your collection over life you are disgusting."

"Man goes to space to be part of something greater," the Doctor spits.

"Exactly! I wanted to touch the stars! That's why I kept her here!" he points to me. "If you think about it, it is all her fault none of this would have happened if she told me how her ship worked."

The Doctor shook his head, "You just wanted to drag the stars underground! Of course, she wouldn't talk you enslaved her and experimented on her! You are about as far from the stars as you can get!" His angry screams turned to sorrowful sighs, "And you took Rose down with you she was nineteen years old."

"She's so young can she not regenerate?" I ask sadly.

"She's human," he sighs.

I can't understand what a timelord is doing traveling with humans I understand now is not the time for questions.

The elevator doors open and the Doctor is quick to yell at the man for leaving his companion behind.

The monitor turns back on the Dalek holding its weapon to the back of the girl, "Open the vault or Rose Tyler dies."

The doctor gasps, "You're alive!"

"Can't get rid of me that easily," she teases.

"I thought you were dead," he shouts.

The Dalek interrupts, "Open the vault!"

"Don't" she begs.

"What use are emotions, if you will not save the woman you love," the Dalek states. Curious what does a Dalek know about love?

"I killed her once, I can't do it again," he states as he presses the button.

This is most certainly not the Doctor who was infamous in Gallifrey how long have I been missing. I hear Van Satten shouting but none of it really matters anymore. The Dalek will kill us and I have been missing so long that no one back home will know the difference. I am not going down without a fight. If my life didn't mean something hopefully my death can.

I adjust my posture to appear taller, "You collect all these dangerous aliens so where are your dangerous alien weapons?"

The woman shouts at me "All the weapons are in the vault!"

"Only the cataloged ones," Van Statten's employee smiles at me. I can't help the blush that appears on my face I can't remember the last time someone smiled at something I said.

The Doctor nods his head at me, "Good idea." He still looks at me like I'm a figment of his imagination and will disappear soon.

We left Van Statten and his assistant upstairs and went to the basement for weapons. The doctor tosses the weapons that are useless but finds a gun which relieves some of my anxiety.

"Stay here! I'll come back for you as soon as I handle the Dalek!" He demands

"You are out of your mind! I've been locked here for years and you're the first timelord I've seen here! If you think I am letting you fight a Dalek alone you're mental!" I shout back it feels strange screaming at anyone after refusing to speak for so long even weirder to scream at a war hero from my own planet.

He takes a deep breath trying to control his rage, "I don't have time for this! I can't have you dying while I am saving Rose!"

I shove him, hold my head high, and walk right by him, "I have more regenerations left than you old man."

He jogs to catch up to me, "No convincing you?"

"God you sound like my parents when I stole their Tardis," I groan as we jog up the stairs.

He smirks, "I stole a Tardis myself once."

"Now that's a story I have to hear," I grin wide.

"Another day," he sighs as we quietly enter the room with the Dalek and Rose.

The Doctor steps in front of me "Rose get out of the way now!"

"No, I won't let you do this," she frowns.

I stare wide-eyed at her she can't be saying this does she know of the war on Galifrey why wouldn't the Doctor have told her.

"That thing killed thousands of people!" He shouts.

"It's not the one pointing a gun at me," she snaps and I kind of want to throttle this girl.

"I've got to do this the Daleks destroyed my home! My people! I've got nothing left!" He shouts.

My head whips to face the Doctor, "What do you mean nothing." My voice shakes no matter how hard I try to remain calm. "We didn't win the war? How are you here then?"

I turn back to the Dalek, "Did they win?"

I stomp towards the Dalek and the doctor pleads with me to wait. Rose looks at me nervously I guess I can still look scary in a hospital gown and no weapon of my own. When she steps out of the way I freeze in my spot I've never seen a Dalek out of its exoskeleton.

"What is it doing?" This has to be a ploy, one they use to seem weaker then snap. Though a Dalek would never do that they need to feel superior or they are nothing.

"It's the sunlight that's all it wants," Rose defends the Dalek as it reaches its hand to the sun I back up. This is not normal behavior.

The Doctors' gaze follows, "But it can't..."

"It couldn't kill me or Van Statten it's changing!" Rose defends yet again. "And what about you Doctor what the hell are you changing into?"

I whip to Rose, "You have no right! You have no idea what these Daleks did to our home!"

"Our?" She questions.

"Why do we survive?" The Dalek asks. "I am the last of the Daleks."

"You're not even that, you absorbed Rose's DNA. You are mutating," the Doctor explains.

"Into what?" it responds.

"Something new," he replies.

I frown I am happy that there are no more Daleks but this is truly a Dalek's worst nightmare.

"I am sorry," The Doctor sighs.

"isn't that better?" Rose asks.

"Not for a Dalek," why am I feeling sorry for the Dalek they destroy everything it's their goal. I can't help but relate to it when we have been stuck in the same prison for years... I thought about burning this whole place down myself.

"So many ideas, so much darkness. Give me orders! Order me to die Rose," the Dalek says pained.

She shakes her head, "No I can't."

"This is not life! This is sickness. I shall not be like you. Order me to die. Obey! Obey! Obey!" The dalek screams and I can't help but step a few feet back the words reminding me of hearing the constant battlefield noises out my childhood window on Gallifrey.

"Do it," she says.

"Are you frightned Rose Tyler?"

"Yes"

"So am I, Exterminate." The Dalek floats up and prepares to self destruct as Rose and I run away from it.

I fall to the ground as I watch the Dalek explode all the adrenaline I once had fades out of me. I look up to the Doctor, "What do you mean you have no one?"

His pitiful gaze that he sent me when he first found out I was Timelord made sense now as he responds, There's no more Gallifrey... no more Daleks. The whole planet gone."

I can sob " I should have stayed home. I should have never ran away. If I stayed at least I would have gone with my family." I turn to the doctor but can barely see him through my tears. "Is there really no other Timelords?"

Rose quickly gets onto the floor and rubs my back, "hey you never know! The Doctor thought he was the only Timelord left but here you are! Plus you get to constantly prove the Doctor was wrong not many people get the oppurtunity."

I sniffle, "That's true, and I do love proving people wrong."

"There you go," she soothes. "We will get you a good cup of tea my Mum always says tea cure anything," She helps me to feet.

"You are really good at this comforting thing. Is she always this sweet?" I ask the Doctor.

The Doctor seems to have glossy eyes as well but hides his emotions well, "Yeah, that's why I keep her around."

"Hey!" she shoves him.

"The grief is very heavy right now but I am thankful to be surrounded by such light that could even turn a Dalek's cold heart warm.

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate’s Promise: 

This image would represent Sanji Fighting the Candies for the recipes.

A/N: Welcome guys! We are now on Chapter 7! This chapter is long! With both POVs from Sanji and Y/N, but there's also a few surprise guests at the end of the chapter.. Wink wink. As always thank you guys for following along! As always I have the chapters linked, chapter 8 will be worked on tonight! Now without further ado let's begin! 

Y/N is an established pirate and a formidable warrior, with the third highest bounty in the Straw Hat crew. She's not just another member; her strength and skills have earned her a respected spot among the crew.

Sanji, our favorite lovesick cook, falls head over heels for Y/N almost immediately. True to his nature, he tries every trick in the book to catch her attention, from cooking her favorite meals to showering her with compliments. On the other hand, Y/N may have a small crush on Sanji, but she’s cautious and focused on her goals as a pirate.

As the story progresses, that small crush gradually blossoms into something more profound, but their journey together won't be easy. With the chaos of the New World looming, the dangers they face will test their bond and loyalty to each other. Will their love be strong enough to survive the trials ahead, or will the perils of their pirate life tear them apart?

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster filled with angst, action, and a dash of romance. I'm thrilled to take you on this adventure with Y/N, Sanji, and the rest of the Straw Hat crew!

Word Count: 7.3K

Sanji x Reader, Sanji X Y/N, One piece x reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 (Here) ,

Chapter 7: A Test of Will 

Y/N POV

"Y/N… I… I can't believe you saved me back there," Sam says, his voice shaky as you both return to the hospital quarters. You can tell the fight against the King is still fresh in his mind, just as it is in yours. The sheer power the King wielded was unlike anything you'd ever faced. The punch he delivered to your midsection had left you on the brink of unconsciousness—astonishing in its force.

"Sam," you grunt as he begins to examine your injuries, checking to see if any other parts of your body were affected. "Like I said back there, you helped me when I was injured. You and John both saved me from the brink of death." A shiver runs down your spine as you recall the moment, the fear of losing everything. You smirk and add, "We’re friends now."

"The King was impressed with your tenacity and fire, Y/N," John finally speaks up, glancing out the window where the moonlight spills into the room. Two days had passed since you arrived on this all-male island, and the lack of a boat to return to Sabaody and rejoin your crew weighs heavily on your mind.

"I wasn’t going to let some man undermine me, John," you reply, your tone sharp. "Besides, the ass had it coming." You wince as Sam tightens the bandages around your wounds, his hands gentle but firm.

"Still, no one has come close to rattling him like you did," Sam admits, a mix of admiration and concern in his voice.

You nod, then turn to John with a question that's been nagging at you. "I do have a question, John, if I may?"

John nods, gesturing for you to continue.

"How did the King manage to divide the floor in two with just a punch? It wasn’t just brute strength—there was something more to it," you ask, replaying the moment in your mind.

John sighs, looking thoughtful as he begins to explain. "It's the technological advancements we have on this island. The King ensures everyone is equipped to handle any enemy that might challenge us. That punch wasn’t just the result of his natural power—it was amplified by a device he wears."

"A device?" you echo, intrigued.

John nods, stepping closer to you. "It’s a ring. When the King clenches his fist, the ring activates, creating a glove that can be manipulated depending on what the wearer desires. For the King, it enhances his strength exponentially, allowing him to cause damage to the ground or any object he targets."

Your eyes widen as you process this information. "So it’s like a weapon disguised as jewelry?"

"Exactly," John confirms. "The ring channels the island's advanced technology, and in the King's case, it gives him the strength of ten men. It’s what allowed him to split the floor with that punch and what makes him so formidable in battle."

"That explains a lot," you mutter, your mind racing with the possibilities. "But still, a device like that… it's almost cheating."

John chuckles softly. "Perhaps, but on this island, survival is the ultimate goal. The King uses every tool at his disposal to ensure he remains in power."

You lean back, processing everything. "Then I’ll need to find a way to counter it if I ever face him again."

Sam and John exchange glances, concern etched on their faces. "Y/N, be careful. The King doesn’t take kindly to those who oppose him," John warns.

You smirk, feeling a surge of determination. "I’m not planning to go down that easily. If the King thinks he can intimidate me with some fancy ring, he’s got another thing coming."

Sam smiles weakly as he finishes bandaging your wounds. "Just… don’t push yourself too hard, Y/N."

"Don’t worry, Sam," you reply, your voice firm. "I’ve got too much to lose to let this island keep me down. Now, what’s the plan to get back to Sabaody?"

John and Sam exchange another look before John speaks. "We’ll help you, Y/N. But first, you need to rest. You’ll need all your strength for what’s to come."

You nod, feeling the exhaustion creeping in. "Alright, but don’t let me sleep too long. The sooner we figure this out, the sooner I can get back to my crew."

As you settle into the bed, your mind drifts back to the King and the power he wielded. You’re not just fighting for yourself—you’re fighting for your crew, for your captain, and for the promise you made to them all.

Sanji’s POV…

"How many times do I have to tell you! Give me a ship! I have a promise I have to keep!" I barked, frustration boiling over as I glared at the “Candies.” Two days had passed, and every second felt like an eternity. Time was slipping away, and I had already endured the humiliation of losing to the "Sub" Queen Charlotte. The memory of that defeat stung worse than any physical blow. "Damn it! There's no time for me to goof around with you guys anymore!"

Charlotte smirked, her condescending tone only adding fuel to the fire. "Try a little harder, Candy boy."

Her words grated on my nerves. "So what if it’s an excuse! I'll come right out and say it!" I snapped back, turning away from them with my arms crossed in a huff. "If I don’t see some pretty girls, I’m gonna die. In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t my scene."

Charlotte and her entourage of “Candies” giggled, clearly enjoying my outburst.

Just as I was about to storm off, one of the Candies gasped, her voice trembling with excitement. "Wait! Is that…?"

I turned around, curious despite myself. "It is! Queen Iva has arrived!" she squealed, and suddenly, the entire group—including Charlotte—was shaking with admiration, tears of joy flowing from their eyes like rivers.

"Hey, what gives? Compose yourselves!" I shouted, bewildered by their reaction. This was getting ridiculous. But as I followed their gaze, I spotted a figure descending from a boat, surrounded by an aura of authority and flamboyance.

"Why do we care?" I asked, still not understanding the sudden shift in their behavior.

Charlotte turned around, her eyes wide with awe. "She’s the ruler of all Kamabakka Kingdom! Queen Emporio Ivankov!"

"Wait a minute, Ivankov?" I said, the name ringing a bell in my mind. Without hesitation, I made my way toward the sea where the boat had now docked. "That's the queen I read about in the papers. Talk about good timing. She was traveling with Luffy—she’s gotta know something!"

As the heels clicked against the ground, I looked up, stunned, as Ivankov descended the steps from her boat. "Ahh, home at last," she said, her voice carrying an air of familiarity with the island.

"Woahh, what a body!" I blurted out, admiring the woman before me, sighing in awe. But then I shook my head, pressing down the doubts that started creeping in. "No, I can’t. She’s totally someone else under all that hotness; otherwise, she wouldn’t be on this island in the first place!"

Ivankov’s sultry voice cut through my thoughts. "Hmmm, hey there, you got a name?" she asked, her tone dripping with flirtation.

I tried to stand tall, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Is there anything I can do for you... Candy boy?" she continued, her voice adding more fuel to the fire inside me.

"Yeah, I got a lot of questions, buddy," I stammered, trying to regain my composure. "Actually, the first one is—are you single?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I was stunned. "I can't believe I even asked that question!" I muttered, a blush creeping across my face. In a low voice, I quickly added, "I mean, it's about Luffy."

Ivankov’s eyes sparkled with interest. "What, Luffy? The cutie with the straw hat?" she responded, her tone playful yet curious.

"Yeah, that’s the one," I confirmed, trying to shake off the embarrassment of my earlier blunder. 

"Listen, I read in the papers that you were busting heads with him at Marineford," I said, trying to keep my cool despite the chaos around me. "What a lucky bastard that Luffy. Anyway, you might know how he’s doing! So, you mind filling me in on that?" I knelt down dramatically, extending my hand toward Ivankov. "Baby."

She reached for my hand, but just then, her nails extended, and she punctured her body with them. "How about now?" Ivankov said in a low voice as her real, more masculine form began to emerge.

"Awww man, and I saw it coming from a mile away too! Screw you!" I shouted, annoyed at myself for falling for it. "Now, tell me, how do you know Strawboy?" Ivankov demanded.

"We’re shipmates," I replied, still irritated.

"You’re part of his crew?!" Ivankov exclaimed, pulling out all the wanted posters of our crew members, flashing them one by one. "So, Strawboy is your captain?"

"Yeah, so?" I answered, trying to stay calm.

"And so, you’re friends with Pirate Hunter Zoro?" Ivankov asked, narrowing her eyes.

"HELL NO!!" I shot back, the mere thought infuriating me.

"What about Cat Burglar Nami?"

"NAMI, MY SWEET!" I shouted, my tone changing instantly, full of adoration.

"And what about Warrior Y/N?" Ivankov asked, holding up her poster.

I froze, staring at the poster of Y/N. Memories flooded back—her smile, her spirit, everything about her that made her special. I remembered the day she got her first wanted poster like it was yesterday.

Flashback

"You guys!" Y/N said, grinning and jumping up and down with excitement. I couldn’t help but smile back at her. Her expression, her smile—too beautiful to even put into words. That was one of the things I loved about her. Besides being a strong warrior and pirate, she carried herself with so much love and light.

"Check this out!" She pulled me out of my daze, waving her wanted poster in front of me. "It’s my wanted poster! They really need to get a better picture of me, though. Hey, Nami, mind telling me who took your picture? I need an updated one ‘cause this isn’t it." She laughed, her voice like music to my ears. Her bounty had gone from the original 20,000,000 to 50,000,000.

"What do you think, Sanji? How cool is this?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with pride.

I was lost in thought, still mesmerized by her.

"Hello? Candy boy?" Ivankov’s voice snapped me back to reality.

"Yeah, yeah, I do," I said, a small smile tugging at my lips.

Ivankov held up another wanted poster. "So, this must be your wanted poster then?"

"FUCK NO! That hideous drawing is nothing like me!" I yelled, now enraged. 

Ivankov started pounding the images with her fists. "You’re not in any of these wanted posters, so you must be a fraud! How do I know your relation with Strawboy then?"

I slammed my fist on the newspaper she held. "What do I do to convince you? I already told you I am!" I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Tell me what you know about Luffy now! Listen, the paper said you were there with him! So you must know what happened!"

Ivankov raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "So you admit this is you, then?"

"No, IT'S NOT!" I protested, falling to my knees in frustration. "I mean, kind of, but..." Bowing my head, gritting my teeth, I finally gave in. "I'm Sanji, but..." I choked and coughed, blood rising in my throat from the stress of the situation. "My, this seems like a problem area for you, doesn't it?" Ivankov said, clearly enjoying my torment.

Struggling, I finally admitted, "Yes, it's me. That hideous wanted poster drawing is me!"

Ivankov held up my wanted poster beside my face, scrutinizing it. "Sorry, but no match," she teased.

"BUT YOU STILL MADE ME SAY IT! I WAS FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE BACK THERE!" I shouted, furious that she forced me to admit it, only to mock me.

"Fine! I'll start swimming!" I turned around, ready to jump into the sea.

Ivankov gasped, clearly taken aback by my determination. "What dedication! You were telling the truth when you said you were a member of the Strawhat crew. I'll tell you everything I know about Strawboy, then."

"Finally," I said, smiling in relief.

"OR MAYBE NOT!" Ivankov suddenly exclaimed, and the candy men on the island burst into cheers, praising her cleverness.

"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath, my patience wearing thin. "Hey, Iva, since I'm a pirate, I've decided I'm gonna take your ship." I looked at her with fierce determination. "I challenge you to a duel!"

Y/N POV…

"Hey… Y/N, wake up." A soft hand shook me gently. Groaning, I turned my body, instinctively grabbing the object close, cuddling it. "Five more minutes, please," I whined, my voice muffled by sleep. Sam hesitated at first but then decided to let me cuddle him, his body stiffening slightly before relaxing into my embrace. His warmth sparked something inside him, and as he looked down, he smiled softly and pecked my forehead, enjoying the rare moment of closeness, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Suddenly, John barged in, his footsteps quick and urgent. "Y/N! Y/N! Wake up!" he called out, turning on the lights without warning. The abrupt brightness made me groan again, and as I turned, trying to get up, I was met with something hard. Blinking, I adjusted my eyes and saw Sam cuddled next to me, his hands securely on my waist. My face flushed as I realized the intimacy behind the act, and I scrambled to get up, causing Sam to tumble off the bed.

"Whoa, sorry, Sam!" I stammered, embarrassed, trying to help him up but failing to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks.

John, either oblivious or too focused on the news, hurriedly handed me a newspaper. "Y/N, I bring today’s newspaper! It appears something happened to your captain, Luffy!" he exclaimed.

"What?!" My heart raced as I scrambled to my feet, yanking the paper from John’s hands. My eyes widened as I saw Luffy’s face plastered on the front page. "Luffy, what the hell is going on?" I murmured, frantically reading through the article, my mind swirling with worry.

Just as I was about to ask John more questions, two soldiers entered unannounced, their presence commanding immediate attention. Between them stood the King, his regal aura undeniable.

"Ahh, I see you are awake," the King said, his voice calm yet authoritative.

I quickly composed myself, standing tall despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me. "Your Majesty," I greeted, trying to mask my concern for Luffy with a respectful tone. "What brings you here?"

The King’s eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and intrigue as he replied, "I know who you are—Y/L/N, Y/N. You're part of the Straw Hat crew!"

My heart skipped a beat, but I stood firm. "Yes, I am. So what of it?"

The King chuckled, clearly entertained by my defiance. "I’m quite impressed. News traveled fast about what occurred in Sabaody, but I just couldn’t believe it was your crew that caused such a ruckus."

"We did it to save our friends," I said through gritted teeth, my mind still reeling as I glanced down at the newspaper, trying to piece together why Luffy had gone back to Marineford. The King noticed my focus on the paper and took a step forward.

"You’d like to know more about your captain, correct?" he said, his voice silky smooth. Sam and John immediately moved to shield me, but I pushed them aside, stepping forward to face the King head-on.

"What do you know about him?" I demanded, my voice unwavering despite the tension in the air.

The King smirked, leaning in closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Why don’t you come back to my quarters, and I’ll tell you everything I know," he whispered, his breath brushing against my ear as he slowly pushed my hair back, sending shivers down my spine. He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against my neck as he added, "And come alone, if you will."

I stood tall, placing my hands on his chest and pushing him back slightly with a seductive smile. "At what time does Your Majesty request my presence?" I asked, my voice dripping with an allure that matched his own.

"Come by around 3 p.m.," he responded, his gaze lingering on me. "Don’t keep me waiting." With that, he turned and left the room, his soldiers following closely behind.

As soon as the door closed, Sam burst out, "You seriously aren’t considering it, right?!"

Jealousy flickered in his eyes, and I could see the concern in John’s expression as well. I sighed, knowing what had to be done. "I have no choice," I said, my voice steady. "But I’m not going in alone."

Both Sam and John looked at me, their confusion evident.

I smirked, a plan already forming in my mind. "Let’s give him an evening he’ll never forget," I said, my voice full of determination.

They leaned in, listening intently as I began to detail the plan, ensuring that this meeting would be on my terms, not his.

Sanji POV…

Grunting and panting, I felt the exhaustion settle in. "How is Iva so strong?!" I muttered to myself. The fight had barely started, and it was already proving to be a monumental challenge.

"Diable Jambe, Première Hachis!" I shouted, launching myself at Ivankov. My attack was blocked effortlessly, and before I knew it, I was back where I started, disoriented and struggling to regain my footing.

Ivankov, maintaining a calm demeanor, remarked, "You appear to be a sturdy fellow, but you could benefit from some discipline." With that, Ivankov moved in with fluid grace, launching a series of attacks. "Newkama Kenpo—44—Aesthetic Technique! Hair Removal Fist."

Each precise strike landed with crushing force, leaving me reeling. "Death Wink, Hell Wink, and Galaxy Wink!" Ivankov announced, each technique more powerful than the last, overwhelming me with their intensity. The final blow came, and the bell rang, signaling the end of the match. The winner was clearly Ivankov.

I lay on the ground, gasping for air, my energy spent. Ivankov walked over, a look of satisfaction on their face. "Very well, Mr. Curly Brows, I'll give you an update on Strawboy."

Confused and struggling to recover, I croaked, "So what made you change your mind all of a sudden?"

Ivankov smirked and tossed today’s newspaper in front of me. "Oh, please, there's no need to hide what the whole world already knows."

I flipped through the pages, my heart pounding as I searched for the headline. My eyes widened as I saw Luffy's face plastered on the front page—he was back in Marineford. "LUFFY, WHAT THE HELL?!" I shouted, my frustration and worry clear in my voice. 

Y/N POV…

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you glanced at John and Sam. They both wore expressions of concern mixed with resolve, a reflection of your own emotions. "Alright, everyone knows the plan, right?" you asked, trying to sound confident despite the uncertainty you felt.

John gave a nod. "Yeah, Y/N. We’re ready."

Sam hesitated, his gaze lingering on the outfit you wore—a reminder of the gravity of the situation. "You sure about this, Y/N? There’s gotta be another way."

You looked down at the outfit, your reflection showing a dangerous elegance. The dress, with its high slit and form-fitting design, hugged every curve while the bandages concealed the blade hidden within. Your hair was pulled back neatly, and the red lipstick added a bold touch. The heels elevated your stance, giving you an added edge. Instead of responding directly to Sam, you checked the newspaper one last time. Your eyes widened when you noticed Luffy’s left arm, which had a cryptic message: “3 D with an X over it” and “2 Y” written on it.

A smirk played on your lips. "Alright, Captain, if this is what you want, you can count on me."

John’s voice broke through your thoughts. "We’ve arrived, Y/N."

You turned to them, giving a reassuring smile. "Remember to stay in your stations and keep an eye out. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll handle the rest."

With that, you turned back to the grand entrance of the king’s quarters. The soldiers opened the gates with a ceremonious flourish, and you stepped through, taking a moment to appreciate the opulence of the space before you.

As you walked down the hall, your curiosity was piqued by the elaborate displays. Each section featured a glass case with various weapons and artifacts, their names proudly displayed beneath. You couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on each one, taking in the intricate designs and the history they represented.

Inner dialogue: "So this is the king’s quarters… It’s impressive, but I can’t get distracted. 

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed through the hall, "Ahh, if it isn’t my guest of the evening, Y/N." The king’s voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous undertone. He approached you, a predatory smile on his lips. "Might I add you look rather ravishing today." He reached out and grabbed your hand, placing a kiss on it. You fought the urge to pull away, instead biting back your annoyance and forcing a smile.

"Your majesty," you began, trying to sound casual, "I couldn’t help but notice your impressive collection of weaponry. Might I ask why you’ve put them on display like this?"

The king’s smile faded slightly, and he repositioned himself, his eyes narrowing. "Why don’t I offer you a glass of wine first?" he suggested. "Then we can discuss it further."

He escorted you to the dining hall, where a grand chandelier hung above, casting a warm glow on the room. Soldiers were stationed at every exit, their eyes following your every move.

 Inner dialogue: "He’s thought of every little detail, hasn’t he? There’s no way out without a fight."

The king pulled out a chair for you, and you sat down, maintaining your composure. He then took the seat next to you, much closer than you would have liked, the tension in the air thickening. He poured a glass of wine for each of you, handing you one. "To Y/N," he toasted, his smirk returning. "May tonight be an evening to never forget."

You smiled back, clinking your glass with his, but only pretended to take a sip. "Your majesty," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, "mind telling me what you know about my captain?" You held his gaze, doing your best to appear confident, while subtly trying to seduce him for the information you needed.

The king chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Well, I suppose so," he said. But just as you thought he might start talking, a soldier from the far right lunged at you. Reacting quickly, you threw your wine at him, blocking his attack and knocking him off balance.

In a flash, you were on your feet, taking down the soldiers one by one with precise strikes, your concealed blade flashing in the dim light. The king stood up, clapping slowly as the last soldier fell. "Bravo," he said, his eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and menace. "You never fail to amaze me."

You pulled out your blade, ready to strike, but before you could make a move, the king lifted his hands as if to surrender. Just as you hesitated, an electrical charge surged through your body, causing you to collapse to the floor, paralyzed. The king crouched down beside you, grabbing your face with a cruel smile. "Did you really think I’d just hand over information about your beloved captain? Ha!"

He slammed you harshly into the ground, pain radiating through your body. You tried to signal to Sam and John, but the king laughed. "Don’t bother. The windows are protected. Nothing can get past these walls."

Your breath quickened as you struggled to get up, but you soon realized Sam and John had been captured, their arms bound as they were forced to their knees. "Wait!" you gasped, struggling to hold yourself up as the king approached you with a knife pressed against your throat. He grabbed both your wrists with his other hand, binding you in place.

Gritting your teeth, you seethed, "Let them go. I’d rather die than see them harmed."

The king, not used to being defied, slammed your face into the table, and you fell back in pain. "Y/N!!" Sam yelled, trying to break free to help you.

The king ordered his soldiers to dispose of you, but as they moved to obey, you grabbed the king’s ankle, stopping them in their tracks. "Wait!" you breathed out, struggling to keep your head up. "I didn’t come here to fight… I came to ask if I can train with you and on your island."

The king raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your words. "Train with me? And why should I consider that?"

You forced yourself to speak through the pain, "If I’m going to protect my captain, if I’m going to be a warrior worthy of standing by his side, I need to get stronger. I need your training and your weaponry."

The king’s eyes narrowed, assessing you. After a moment, he spoke, "Training with me isn’t easy. Neither I nor my soldiers will go easy on you. You’ll endure more pain than you can imagine."

You nodded, determination in your eyes. "I understand. I’m ready for whatever it takes."

A slow smirk spread across the king’s face. "Very well. But under one condition—you will stay with me in the quarters. No exceptions."

Your breath hitched, and Sam looked at you with wide eyes. "Like hell she will—"

"I accept," you cut him off, your voice firm.

"What?!" Sam exclaimed, disbelief etched on his face.

"I accept," you repeated, your gaze locked on the king. "But only if you agree to make me stronger and allow me access to your weaponry."

The king crouched before you, his gaze shifting from your lips to your eyes. "You, my dear… have a deal." He sealed the agreement with a kiss, his lips pressing hard against yours before he knocked you down with a forceful push. "Training starts bright and early tomorrow," he announced before turning on his heel, leaving the room with his soldiers in tow.

Sam and John rushed to your side, concern written all over their faces. "Y/N, what did you agree to?" Sam asked, his voice trembling.

Gasping, you looked up at Sam and managed a weak smile. "In order for me to be a strong warrior for my captain, to protect him from every threat… I must get stronger." You coughed, the effort of speaking draining you. "When he sees me again after two years… I’ll be an even stronger warrior… and pirate… fit for the King of the Pirates!"

As the last of your strength left you, you collapsed into Sam’s arms, your injuries overwhelming you. Sam began to shake you gently, trying to keep you conscious. "Y/N, stay with me!"

Before you could respond, the king reappeared in the doorway, his presence commanding the room. "Oh, and before I forget," he said with a smirk, "you two will tend to her wounds and prepare yourselves as well. I won’t show mercy to any of you."

With those words, the king left, leaving you to realize that tonight truly was an evening you would never forget.

Sanji POV…

As I continued to examine the paper, the trees around me providing just enough shade, a smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. Luffy's message was clear as day. "Roger that, Captain," I muttered under my breath, lowering the paper with a sense of purpose.

Ivankov, who had been observing me closely, raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What’s that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. "Something interesting in the paper?"

I folded the paper and looked up at her, the smirk still firmly in place. "Just a little something that only a member of the crew would understand. Top secret, you know?"

Ivankov's curiosity deepened, her eyes narrowing. "Top secret, huh? Are you going to keep me in suspense?"

With a chuckle, I pushed myself off the tree, beginning to walk alongside her towards the castle. "Sorry, but it's crew business. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it."

Once we reached the dining room, a lavish meal awaited me, complete with a glass of wine. Ivankov watched me closely, still trying to piece things together. "You must have seen something in that paper. Mind sharing what it is?"

I took a sip of the wine, savoring the rich flavor before answering, "Like I said, it's top secret. But I’ll tell you this much—my Captain has a plan, and I’m all in."

Ivankov leaned forward, clearly intrigued. "So, what’s the plan?"

I couldn’t help but grin, enjoying the game. "Sorry, that’s classified. Only those who are truly part of the crew would get it."

Ivankov huffed, folding her arms. "You’re really going to keep me in the dark, huh? Fine, but don’t think you can tease me forever."

As I continued to eat, I noticed something different. My body felt… stronger, more energized. Each bite seemed to enhance my senses, sharpening my mind. I looked at the food on my plate, then back at Ivankov. "This food… what’s in it? It’s… different."

Ivankov's face lit up with pride. "Ah, you’ve noticed! That’s the power of Attack Cuisine. It’s a special recipe that enhances your body’s capabilities—makes you stronger, faster, more resilient. It’s the food of warriors!"

“Attack Cuisine?” I said, thinking to myself, this can help my crew, and even a little more a subtle blush creeps up as I think of all the ways this meal can make Y/N, Robin and Nami sexier than ever. "Teach me this recipe, Ivankov. I need to learn it."

Ivankov’s expression turned serious, shaking her head. "Sorry, but it’s not that simple. Attack Cuisine isn’t something you can just learn. You have to earn it."

I leaned forward, determination clear in my eyes. "Then tell me what I need to do to earn it."

Ivankov smiled, clearly impressed by my resolve. "Alright, I’ll make you a deal. If you can defeat the 99 masters of New Kama Kenpo, I’ll teach you the recipes for Attack Cuisine. 

My eyes widened at the challenge Ivankov laid before me. But as the initial shock wore off, a smirk tugged at my lips. The thought of what lay ahead was daunting, but it also excited me. "When this is all over," I thought to myself, "and I defeat those 99 masters, I'll become stronger than ever. I’ll become the world’s greatest chef, making meals fit for the King of the Pirates!"

With that resolve burning in my chest, I pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a practiced flick of my lighter. The familiar taste of smoke filled my lungs, and I exhaled slowly, letting the tension melt away. "Alright, let’s do this," I muttered to myself, determination coursing through me.

Ivankov led me to the training grounds, a sprawling arena where the first of the 99 masters awaited. 

She took a step forward, her smirk widening. "You ready, candy boy?" she taunted, her voice dripping with challenge.

I rolled my shoulders, loosening up and preparing for the fight ahead. "Born ready," I replied, the smirk never leaving my face. The cigarette hung lazily from my lips, a symbol of my calm in the face of the storm.

Meanwhile… Back in Sabaody and in the New World. Word got out of what Luffy did in Marineford. 

Sabaody… 

Trafalgar Law POV…

Trafalgar Law lay resting against Bepo, who was peacefully napping beside him. The soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of activity from Sabaody were the only sounds filling the air, creating a serene atmosphere. But that serenity was abruptly broken by the voices of his crew.

"What?? You don’t want to leave yet?" One of the Heart Pirates blurted out, his frustration evident. Penguin, unable to sit still, was pacing back and forth. "Let’s go to the New World! We’ve been sitting around here doing nothing! What are we waiting for?"

Law remained calm, his eyes half-lidded as he lazily watched Penguin. His cool demeanor never wavered. "Like I said, we’ll leave when it’s time. Have some patience. The One Piece isn’t going anywhere," he replied, his tone steady and authoritative.

"But Captain, Blackbeard's already taking down pirates to reach the One Piece first!" another crew member chimed in, a note of urgency in his voice.

"Yeah, and a bunch of rookies are heading over there to take Whitebeard’s place as an Emperor," added Shachi, his concern evident as he glanced at Law.

Law smirked, tilting his head slightly as he continued to rest against Bepo. "We’re better off letting them eliminate each other before we get there," he said, a calculating edge to his voice. "That’ll thin out the competition, don’t you think?"

The crew exchanged glances, knowing their captain’s strategic mind was always thinking several steps ahead. But Penguin, never one to pass up an opportunity for mischief, couldn’t resist teasing. He leaned closer to Law, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Are you sure it’s not also to catch a glimpse of Y/N?" he asked, his tone dripping with playful insinuation.

Law, usually so composed, visibly tensed. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, betraying his emotions. "Don’t be ridiculous," he muttered, trying to keep his cool, but his voice betrayed him with a slight stammer.

"Oh, come on, Captain," Shachi joined in, grinning widely. "We all saw how you looked at Y/N before we left. You sure you’re not just hoping for another chance encounter?"

Penguin, still chuckling, added, "Don’t worry, Captain. We’ll be sure to give you some privacy when we run into Y/N again."

Before anyone could say more, Bepo, still deep in his nap, began to mumble, "I also have Y/N’s number…"

Law’s eyes widened in disbelief as he turned to stare at Bepo, who remained blissfully unaware in his sleep.

Penguin and Shachi both froze for a moment before they erupted. "What?!" they shouted in unison, glaring at Bepo. "You just decided to tell the Captain now?!"

Bepo’s ears twitched as he sleep-talked again, "S-Sorry…"

Penguin and Shachi threw their hands up in exasperation. "Don’t apologize while you’re sleeping!" they yelled, half-annoyed, half-amused.

The crew’s teasing atmosphere was momentarily disrupted, but as the laughter faded, Law’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. He couldn’t help but wonder what Y/N was up to now and when their paths would cross again. But for now, he had to maintain his composure—especially with his crew watching his every move. 

Somewhere in the New World… 

Captain Kidd stood at the helm of his ship, a newspaper clenched in his gloved hand. His eyes were narrowed, and his lips curled into a sneer as he scanned the bold headline.

"Strawhat Luffy… turns out the bastard’s still alive!" Kidd growled, the newspaper crinkling under his grip. "Rang the bell 16 times in Marineford… blah, blah, blah, so what the hell does this mean?" He looked up, his gaze sharp as he turned to his crew.

Killer, standing nearby, adjusted his mask before speaking up. "The 16 bells have a symbolic meaning, Captain. It’s a declaration of a new era. The end of one and the beginning of another."

Kidd scoffed, tossing the newspaper onto a nearby crate. "He comes out of Marineford pretty cocky, thinking he’s hot shit. Whitebeard’s era is already gone, and now he thinks he’s in charge of the next one?" Kidd’s voice dripped with disdain. "His bounty’s going up, and it’s only going to keep rising if he keeps pulling stunts like this."

He turned away from his crew, his mind clearly on something else, or rather, someone else. "Any news on my fiancée, Y/N?" Kidd asked, his tone almost casual, but there was a possessive edge to his words.

Killer, not missing a beat, quickly chimed in. "Captain, she hasn’t accepted yet. Besides, I’ve got my eyes set on her too." His voice was cool, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

Kidd’s gaze snapped back to Killer, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "She’ll agree, Killer. Even if I have to kidnap her to make her see reason," Kidd declared, his voice firm. The intensity in his tone left no room for doubt.

Killer tilted his head slightly, not backing down. "And what makes you so sure, Kidd? Y/N’s not someone who can be easily controlled, you know that. She’s got fire, and it’s that fire that draws us both to her."

Kidd smirked, a twisted sense of admiration in his expression. "Exactly. That fire is what makes her perfect. She’s not just some woman; she’s the only one who could keep up with me. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on her…"

Flashback…

The bustling streets of Sabaody Archipelago were always filled with chaos and intrigue, a perfect breeding ground for pirates looking to make a name for themselves. It was here, in the heart of the lawless zone, that Kidd first caught sight of her—not in person, but on a wanted poster plastered against a weathered wall.

Kidd had been walking through Grove 20, eyes scanning the numerous bounty posters lining the street. Some caught his interest briefly, but nothing that truly stood out—until he saw yours. The image was slightly weathered, but the intensity in your eyes was unmistakable. The name underneath read Y/L/N, Y/N, with a bounty that was impressive for someone who wasn’t a captain (115,000,000). Your face, fierce and determined, piqued his curiosity instantly.

"Who the hell is this?" Kidd muttered under his breath, ripping the poster off the wall to get a better look. There was something about you, even in that static image, that intrigued him. A fire in your eyes, a promise of trouble, and a challenge—everything Kidd was drawn to.

He stuffed the poster into his coat, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I’ve gotta meet this woman," he thought to himself, already feeling the thrill of the chase. The poster didn’t do you justice; he needed to see you in action.

The opportunity came sooner than he expected. At the Human Auction House, Kidd had initially come for the spectacle, expecting to see the usual array of unfortunate souls. But when his eyes landed on you, standing on stage next to a mermaid, his world shifted. Your outfit, meant to highlight you as a prize, did nothing to disguise the raw strength and spirit radiating from you. His gaze lingered on the bruises marring your skin—evidence of your fight and resistance. The sight stirred something primal in him, a mix of anger and fierce protectiveness. The thought of you being paraded around like a trophy, shackled and vulnerable, ignited a burning desire within him.

When the auction began and you removed your chains, Kidd watched in awe as you fought back with a small blade, taking down Disco with precision and grit. The way you moved, the fire in your eyes, it was more than just talk and bravado. It was action, power, and defiance, and Kidd found himself captivated. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of admiration and a fierce, possessive urge.

When the cook from your crew, Sanji, rushed onto the stage to free you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close, Kidd’s initial reaction was a surge of rage and jealousy. He watched, fists clenched, as the scene unfolded. But when you were pushed towards Kidd, his control was tested. The closeness, the heat of your body against his—it took everything in him to restrain his instincts.

As you stumbled towards him, Kidd’s eyes darkened with a hunger that went beyond mere attraction. The sight of your disheveled state, the way you clung to Sanji and then to him, stoked a fierce, carnal desire within him. His mind was consumed with thoughts of claiming you, of feeling your body pressed against his in a way that spoke of raw, unfiltered need.

In a moment of primal intensity, Kidd’s gaze locked onto you as he leaned in, his tongue grazing your delicate skin. The touch was deliberate, teasing, and when you let out an involuntary moan, it fueled his desires even further. The soft, warm skin beneath his lips was intoxicating, each tremor of your body sending waves of pleasure through him. The warmth of your breath, the softness of your flesh, the vulnerability of your position—all combined to create a heady mix of lust and longing.

Kidd’s control was slipping, his thoughts dark and obsessive. He imagined pulling you close, feeling every curve of your body pressed against his, his hands roaming with a possessive grip. The thought of claiming you, of making you his in every sense, consumed him. He wanted to feel your skin against his, to taste every inch of you, and to dominate you in a way that left no room for doubt.

The fire in your eyes had ignited a blaze in his heart, one that burned with a fierce, unrestrained passion. In that moment, Kidd knew he would stop at nothing to possess you, not just as a trophy but as a partner in his most intimate desires. The need to have you, to make you his, was now an all-encompassing obsession.

Back to the present…

Kidd’s smirk widened as he recalled that moment, his gaze faraway yet intense. "She’s mine, Killer. She just doesn’t know it yet."

Killer, arms crossed and eyes hidden behind his mask, shifted his stance. The air between them was charged with unspoken tension. "You’re not the only one who sees her worth, Kidd. But if you think I’m just going to step aside, you’re mistaken. I’m just as determined to make her mine."

Kidd’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of challenge in his gaze. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. "Then it looks like we’ve got ourselves a little competition, don’t we?"

Killer’s tone was equally resolute, though his masked face revealed nothing. "Looks like it."

The two men stood in a silent stand-off, the weight of their rivalry hanging heavily in the air. Each knew the stakes of this competition were high, but neither was willing to concede. Y/N had become the center of a storm—a storm driven by the fierce desires of two of the New World’s most formidable pirates.

Kidd’s smirk remained, a dangerous promise of what was to come. "Let’s see who she chooses, then."

Killer’s eyes, though hidden, seemed to bore into Kidd with equal intensity. "Indeed. May the best man win."

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation, the rivalry between the two men palpable. As they stood their ground, the realization set in that Y/N was about to become the focal point of their ruthless competition. Neither would relent, and both were prepared to do whatever it took to claim her, making their contest a matter of both pride and possession.

.

.

.

..Finally! Now, both Sanji and Y/N will start their training! Sanji’s flashback moment, my heart!!! had to add law, kidd, and killer back. I just love them. Also it adds to the plot lmfaooo. For the next chapter I will be bringing the crew back as the 2 years have finally arrived. We head back to Sabaody. There's going to be flashback scenes here. Along with a few guests coming in. I think for chapter 9-10 I will skip fishman island and add a few key notes for our beloved crew as well as a key moment that will shift both Sanji and Y/N. You guys don't want to miss this, cause we will be heading to punk hazard. Thank you guys for liking as well as following the blogs! Thank you for reblogging!. Chapter 8 is being worked on now as we speak!

[nixite117]

Worldbuilding

If there’s anything I suck at more than anything in fiction, it’s world building.

So let’s get started.

The general idea of my sci fi world is that Earth has just joined the stars. While this is public knowledge, there is very little known about its dominating species, “humans.” However, Earth has been classified as a Class D planet.

Every planet in the universe can fall under certain labels and classifications based on their abilities to sustain life. N Class planets are incapable of sustaining life, and are what make up most of the universe. Whenever a planet with life is found, it is first classified by what kind of life inhabits it. The two options are sentient and non-sentient. Then, if sentience is recognized: advanced or primitive? A society becomes advanced when they have an established connection to technology.

If no sentient species is established, then the planet is analyzed for threat levels of wildlife and disease. This is their “danger class,” and trumps all other classes. If the danger class is high enough, it is then considered a “death planet” and thus is much too dangerous to land on.

The Interstellar Safety Commission is the governing body responsible for this, and publicizes information about such on all planets that are candidates for resource harvesting and/or colonization. They also do this for private companies who are hoping to mine out various planets.

This organization has existed for almost 30,000 years.

Earth was the subject of this classification just before human’s began building civilizations. At the time, not only did the federation find that the planet had, at one point, been hit by an asteroid, but that the planet was teeming with violent creatures. The federation was newer at the time, it’s many members being unfamiliar with the many shapes that life can take. Thus, sights like the glyptodonts and prehistoric hippos were new and unfathomably terrifying.

Because of the mass amount of planets across the universe, typically the solar system around a “death planet” will be quickly archived. Organizations that apply for legal planet mining can easily find new ones nowadays as tech has grown significantly since the start of the ISC. So Earth was largely forgotten, as was our solar system. So much so that our little corner of the Milky Way was one of many little things that was forgotten. This is a loophole that many exploit but that will be discussed later.

Because there was no observation of our planet after this, Earth was pretty much left to evolve in peace. 10,000 years later, it’s the year 2088 and Earth has joined the stars. Upon reviewing the planet we came from, the ISC was baffled by our ability to survive, much less evolve on what is largely considered a “death planet.” Due to this information being public, many rumors started about the human race. We’ve been amongst the stars for almost a decade, which is nothing in the great span of the universe.

Humans have barely begun diplomatic missions with the universe, as our tech is extremely primitive in comparison to most alien tech. This contributes to the grand mystery around humans.

The main misconception is that humans are naturally aggressive and deadly. They are also all huge, hulking creatures with sharp teeth and a kick like no other. As time passes in space, and we learn more about our place among the stars, many of us learn one great truth about our impression on the universe.

Humans.

Are space orcs.

[aideneverybody]

Okay, screw it. I wrote an opinion essay for class, it’s an essay on Luka.

Disclaimer: this is my first real essay, and for whatever reason I’m putting it on this site (🫶), so don’t be mean please. also mentions of using chatgpt to summarize information, but! I only did it because my teacher said we should do so if we needed a quick summary. fuck ai on absolutely every other front. also, references are supposed to be imbedded links in the text, idk if that’ll appear or not. if it doesn’t and people wanna know what my sources are I can reblog with a list or smth.

Also, obviously spoilers for Alien Stage.

Without further ado, I suppose..

Why Luka (Alien Stage) is an Extremely Complex Case.

Do you ever have that one character that you know has done some messed up things, but you can’t help but love anyways? Yeah, I think we all do. Especially if they have reasons for it, and especially if those reasons are justifiable.

Like, for example, Luka from the webseries Alien Stage, a show about singing for your life against another person (if you’re a human, that is). Luka is a character with a terrible personality who has committed what should be unforgivable actions, from manipulating opponents with memories of their dead loved ones to allegedly killing his crush’s brother during an altercation as a teenager.

A lot of people, in the show and its fanbase, love him, and others hate him reasonably. No matter what your opinion is on him though, there’s a lot of complexities to take into account when it comes to Luka, like the environment and view he was raised in, the way humans are manufactured in the world of Alien Stage, and the ways surviving all of it can twist a character to become like Luka.

The environment we see the humans in Alien Stage raised in is hardly ideal for anybody other than maybe Truman Burbank, and the human-pets raised there. As a child, many children including Luka inhabited ANAKT Garden, a school of music created to teach human-pets how to sing.

The environment a child is raised in can affect their mental health greatly by changing brain structure and function, and that may have been the aliens’ idea, but… did they do it right, with what they were attempting to achieve?

According to a post regarding ANAKT Garden on the official Alien Stage Patreon, “The environment is modeled after Earth's nature because it is known to be the optimal setting for humans to produce the most beautiful voices. Everything in Anakt Garden is designed to keep pet humans in the best possible condition”, and according to the official artbook’s English translation, “[ANAKT Garden] was designed as an average value by synthesizing abstract visual data from human perception of 'heaven'. But it can never be said to be a perfect heaven because it was created without a complete understanding of human beings”. In simple terms: they failed, at least somewhat, to make an environment that made humans feel… well, human, or at least ever at peace. From the grass to the skyline, everything that surrounds the children at ANAKT Garden is fake, not to mention littered with cameras; and that’s not exactly good for mental health.

However, I highly doubt the aliens cared about the mental health of their pets, as long as they sang properly, so I suppose them turning into an ambitious, calculating, cold-blooded person is just an added perk.

The environment Luka was raised in wasn’t exactly “human”, which didn’t help with the growth of his humanity.

Luka’s surroundings can’t be the only thing blamed for his behaviors as an adult, however; he is a product, and products are meticulously designed and manufactured.

Though ANAKT Garden is a school of music made for children, it could also be considered a factory of sorts. Learning how to warm up your vocal cords and read music notes aren’t the only type of performance training children who attend are subjected to. Students are put through more rigorous exercises like heavily monitored, technologically advanced dance, singing and instrumental training, as well as some more “interesting” tests like “superiority tests”, “image making training”, and one specifically tailored to Luka that I’ll explain.

Luka has three documented conditions: chronic migraines, asthma, and congenital heart disease. His special training? “Heart rate variability”. This is defined as “controlling heartbeats to induce the fear of death”, and is exclusive to Luka.

However, as a child, not only was Luka faced with an inescapable threat of death due to his illness, but he was also isolated and ignored by peers due to his weaknesses. Said weaknesses were not helped by limitations he was given when it came to food. Luka was not allowed to eat much as a child, put on a strict diet by his owner, Heperu, and thus could very easily lead to something referred to as scarcity effect.

Luka is also undeniably a good example of the aftereffects of being a child star. He was marketed since he was a student at ANAKT Garden; an official Patreon post stated, “…even while attending Anakt Garden, [Luka and a classmate] kept gaining recognition for their external activities in the showbiz world”. Effects of being exposed to fame as a child, as summarized by chatGPT and paraphrased by me, include stressfully high expectations in regards to success, exploitation from parents/guardians - in this case his owner, identity issues due to constantly being in the eye of the public and being unable to separate a stage persona from your genuine self, invasion of personal space and a struggle to maintain the boundaries of a private life, failure to maintain healthy personal relationships and developing less than ideal coping mechanisms.

These could very well be applied to Luka. He grew up forever in the eye of the public and surrounded by cameras, has a very manipulative owner, and has no personal relationships to speak of.

Luka is a star because he was bent and twisted and rearranged mentally to be so, in not just ugly ways but extremely unethical ones.

Now, where does that leave Luka as an adult? Just as twisted as the ways he was produced, that’s where.

Luka was top of his class at ANAKT Garden, and won the 49th season of Alien Stage. The current canon of the show takes place in the 50th season, and he won that too. He is, no doubt, easily classified as a “winner”, and certainly a successful investment as a human-pet. Although, I wouldn’t say the word “human”, in all of its glory as one of the most wonderful adjectives that could be applied to a person, fits Luka as a character anymore.

Recall when I brought up the scarcity effect. As defined by Wikipedia, “[In the area of social psychology] Scarcity is basically how people handle satisfying themselves regarding unlimited wants and needs with resources that are limited. Humans place a higher value on an object that is scarce, and a lower value on those that are in abundance”. One of the effects of scarcity effect in humans can be a lack of empathy towards others when they believe time is short, and when your heart is constantly working against you, when isn’t it? Luka, in the artbook, is described as a man who “didn't care whether others were hurt or not because he lived only to prove his own value without giving up his side to anyone. He has no hesitation in trampling others and climbing up”. He does things like study his opponent’s weak points and actively exploit them on stage in order to win. There’s your lack of empathy. Furthermore, the conditional variations of new scarcity and competition fits Luka well. To quote the Wikipedia on scarcity effect again, “New scarcity occurs when our irrational desire for limited resources increases when we move from a state of abundance to a state of scarcity”. In regards to competition, “In situations when others are directly competing for scarce resources, the value we assign to objects is further inflated”. I believe it’s a if-the-shoe-fits-type situation, and the shoe is currently the perfect size for Luka.

He won Alien Stage. He won a show that is a matter of life and death, where the best of the best are put up against each other with not only the pressure of a metaphorical, but a literal gun to them. And not only did he win, but he did so while being in a fairly vulnerable position. For example, his migraines. Migraines are known to cause sensitivity to light, and while on stage, Luka is subjected to many of them. He pushed himself to agonizing points, through extremely unsavory training and suffocating amounts of social pressure, to win, and it’s seemed to pay off for him just fine. In the Alien Stage video “TOP 3”, during Luka’s montage, a subtitle appears that consists of the text “The Luka syndrome is sweeping the universe”. The aliens love him. The easy excuse, relying on that information and how it spurs him on, is that fame is an addiction. There are oh so many studies on social media and fame and the problems they can cause. However, I think there’s more to it than that when it comes to Luka.

In an article of the psychology of pretty privilege, it’s said that “[Research] consistently shows that attractive individuals are more likely to be hired, promoted and receive higher salaries. Their appearance-based confidence also enables them to pursue the wages and opportunities they desire and deserve”. I feel like this could be similar to Luka’s current situation. He made it, and he’s idolized, and good things happen when you’re idolized. Indulgence in things like, I don’t know, food and sugar, happen when you’re idolized, as a reward if nothing else. Proper treatment for a myriad of health issues that the aliens are clearly not below abusing and using against him happens when you’re idolized, even if it is just to keep you healthy for the stage. Even rather immature things, like rubbing your success into the faces of those who once overlooked you, happen when you’re idolized.

Why would he want to let that go? He wouldn’t, could you blame him? But, the constant threat of losing it all looms over him. He won Alien Stage Season 49 and got such a wonderful taste of privilege… and then got chucked back into the brutal competition because he was so good. But by then he knew how to play the system, and had a reason to be desperate to play it. His charm on the stage may seem indispensable, but he knows he himself is not.

He remembers the cruel training, he remembers how he got to where he is, and he’s desperate enough for that - hence scarcity effect - that he refuses to let it go, leaving him with a more alien mentality than human. He lives and exists to be entertainment, he knows that, and he knows that without it he may very well not be living at all.

Luka, and many other characters with similar narratives, have many… interesting features that go into their detestable personalities. Luka, as a specific, has had to suffer through uncanny surroundings, torturous stage training, being pushed to aggressively desire things that should be relatively common, the paranoia of being watched and the mental struggles that go hand in hand with the life of a child star, and how that evolved to turn him into a completely inhuman apparatus of a man.

But, honestly? There is so much more to him that I can’t even fit in here. So, with what I’ve presented you, call your own shots! This is just how I view the way he functions and what reasons could be behind it. You could continue or begin to despise him right now, if you wanted; just make sure to acknowledge that he is a very complex character, no matter how you slice it.

[legokingfisher]

Thinkin about post-Beatrix Imperium. All the dragons were released (as far as we know) so they had no power source left. And they ran entirely on dragon energy, it wasn’t a “most of our energy is from dragons, but we also do x y and z” situation, it was ONLY dragon energy. Theoretically they could go back to getting dragon energy from partnerships with dragons, but i highly doubt there will be any dragons willing to give them anything anytime soon due to Beatrix doing Literal Actual Slavery.

So, for the first months or even years post-Beatrix, is the city just kinda fucked? The last time we saw it, Percival and his teammates were in that area and he sounded pretty optimistic, but we didn’t even see the inside of the city, let alone any other citizens. It makes me wonder if there are many left, or if there was a sort of mass exodus because of what had to be severe power shortages.

And yes, Imperium is incredibly technologically advanced, so I have no doubt they’ll eventually create and implement new technology that harnesses other energy sources. But that will take time. What happens to the Imperian populace in the meantime? I seriously doubt there was any other kind of energy-harnessing/producing infrastructure to fall back on bc who KNOWS how long they’ve relied solely on dragon energy.

There’s also the option of copying or mimicking energy-harnessing tech from other regions/peoples who, you know, don’t rely 100% on a single energy source. But I feel like it would take lots of time and controversy for that to catch on with/be trusted by the average Imperian, because think about it. Even in the face of desperate need for energy in order for the city to Function, these people have had distrust and xenophobia hammered into their skulls from birth to death for what has to be multiple generations. So even if their scientists and engineers find a way to take a leaf out of other peoples’ books, (or even if someone decides to help them,) i really doubt it’ll be an instant fix. Exhibit A: Sora’s parents being distrustful of her after reuniting with her in s1, despite clear evidence of Beatrix’s corruption right in front of their faces.

And let’s think about those who did leave in search of like… homes with power and working amenities. They would be a relatively small minority in Ninjago City or the Crossroads or whatever else is Anywhere nearby. They would feel alone and distrustful of the world around them because it’s New and Scary, and even if the people are hospitable, unlearning xenophobia that’s seeped into every aspect of your Everything is not something that happens in a day. Plus adjusting to different technology and standards of living won’t help how emotionally charged things would get.

And let’s ALSO think about the people who stayed. What do their lives look like? Do they have any knowledge of how to survive without their technology or how to get by whilst it’s being rationed and in low supply? Probably not, or at least not very well. What’s happening to disabled Imperians? This power shortage probably has gotten people killed or at least made their lives worse/more painful.

It’s not ALL doom and gloom though, i suppose. Someone had to have made those differently colored outfits we see Percival’s teammates wearing. Someone had to have made or even imported those different flavors of tea he talked about. Imperians are persevering. But it can’t be easy rn. Beatrix really caused the collapse of a major world power huh. And for what? Nothing meaningful. An empty power-fantasy.

[bluereo]

Pt.1 link above

Superbat with some Batfam hurt/comfort - fic idea

It gets worse before it gets better. I'm sorry.

There will be part 3

Pt.2

It took them longer then it should to realise they fucked up.

Maybe it was one too many close calls, one too many bruises or broken bones. But they finally saw it. This silent pain buried deep in the heart of one they called Father.

Truth was, Bruce wasn't getting any younger. Of course, he still had some years before the idea of retirement even started to look appealing, but he was not getting any younger.

Pretty much all kids grown up by now, Damian was the only one full-time kid at the manor. Each of them had their own lives to live, their partners, hell, even kids.

Manor started to feel painfully empty, loneliness Bruce hadn't felt in years started to come back. Just like so many years ago when his parents died. Empty corridors and empty rooms that looked lived in but no one wrapped in those blankets at night, no one stole snacks from kitchen just after midnight and no one to talk to during breakfast on a week day.

Of course, they saw each other and talked, but it wasn't the same anymore. Patrols were patrols, and missions were missions. Nothing compared to movie nights and cuddle piles when someone was sick.

It's no surprise that Bruce turned away from Clark when his time with kids was already heavily limited and started to decline further.

He cherished each dinner they had at weekends, and he couldn't let this go. What was one more sacrifice in sea of his past mistakes and sacrifices to keep his family in one piece?

But kids saw it finally. How harmless joke, soft teasing turned to poison that was injected directly in Bruce's heart. He needed someone by his side. He spent too many years surviving and carrying burdens of the city and world on his shoulders. He deserved someone he could count on. Not like parent and child but like partners.

And who was better for that than Superman himself?

Soon, kids started planning.

Dick, being a member of JL, saw personally that despite months from breakup, Clark and Bruce were just as gone for eachother like half year earlier. He tried to talk with Clark, but man just refused to even start this topic with Bruce. "I respect his decision. He already hurts from this, and until he says so, we are, and will be, just friends."

Jason tried a more direct approach. Not straight up talking about this like an adult should, Wayne's were after all the most stubborn and emotionally dysfunctional people on the planed after all, but tried to talk nonetheless. "You could stop being this grumpy old prick and find some hobby that doesn't include brooding and running around punching people in the faces. Find someone to talk with for fucks sake." No suprise it didn't really work. Talking to someone was taken as a message to increase the amount of his therapy meeting. (And here Bruce thought he was doing good in eyes of his kids...)

Tim turned to his advanced technological and planning skills. The number of setups he prepared where Bruce and Clark ended in one room without chance to leave for hours was worse than all romantic comedies created. Not to mention changing their schedules so they spend more time together in watchtower. Tim unfortunately got nothing from it besides massive headache, few sleepless nights, and second-hand embarrassment in concerning amounts.

Girls decided to team up in their attempt to mend broken hearts. They tried every single piece of advice they found in media and books. Sweets send from kne to another, flowers with secret meaning, they even tried to create some kind of love potion though website clearly knew nothing about magic. After the third attempt to add some rose petals to ink chanting questionable things in Latin, they settled for being Tim's support in imprisoning lovebirds together.

Only when Damian was half way in to threatening Clark with a knife made of kryptonite Bruce had enough.

______________

Working slowly on part 3.

Correct me if there are any mistakes. I don't have beta reader and I'm tired as hell.

Also, sorry if the girls' part turned out to be a bit forced. I had no idea what to do with them since they seem to be somehow the most sane ones.

[mariacallous]

This is the WIRED article I mentioned, and I'll share it in full because...girl...

It's an opinion piece, and it's WIRED, so I'm taking it with a grain of salt. But it feels so fucking naive and projected and out of step with how things are, actually?

In the late 19th century, before the invention of cinema and radio, every piece of music, performance, oration—even a natural view like a rainbow—was a unique event. Unrepeatable. Cinema and radio changed that, enforcing a massive shift in how we consumed popular culture. Several of the world’s dominant media companies were founded in that moment by men with a relentless sense of awe for the new media. It resulted in a phenomenal lack of restraint—they didn’t think they needed it. This was the future, and it was making them rich. More was obviously better.

Film and radio would eventually be combined into television—creating an even greater detachment from the performance at its core while supplanting human connection with strategic dopamine sparks. Of course people got hooked: More excitement and no effort equaled a better future. When streaming to personal devices became ubiquitous, that future merged even greater profitability with the law of diminishing returns—crushed empathy, spiked anxiety, and social inadequacy all became core to the human experience.

This has ultimately resulted in a general societal malaise, and I think 2025 will be that moment where some facets of society will begin to methodically detach from their screen-based addictions. I predict the leaders of this change will be the Gen Z digital natives for whom the simplicity of techless exchange will hold a similar novelty to its original technological advances.

Gen Z—currently between 13 to 27 years of age—are the people most deeply affected by digital addiction. After all, they were born in the wake of the invention of the internet. Their primary methods of understanding the world have been digital from the start. Actual agency—connection with other humans—has been largely unavailable for school work, coaching, and guidance. Even the informative mundanity of navigating normal life has been relegated to apps: the screen’s dominance institutionalized with all the restrictions and none of the learned experience for surviving them.

Except their instincts. It’s Gen Z’s instincts that are starting to evolve into a dominant force for change in modern society. What things cost—a massive issue for everyone—is driving much of how Gen Z views their priorities. They’re selecting user-generated content over pricey new media. They’re looking for longer meaning from experiences above the short-term gratification of materialism. In a recent US Gallup poll, more than 50 percent of the respondents indicated they don’t trust tech companies, the government, or the justice system.

Gen Z is also embracing the underconsumption-core and de-influencing trends, questioning the values awe-reverent media brought them, and heightening demands for a life-work balance that would have terrorized the generations before them. These are all positive to crucial developments for society.

So, in 2025, I believe the next step will be for Gen Z to embrace the simplicity of techless human exchange—events without the mediation of the ever-corrupting screen. It’s the shock of the new, a novelty as elemental as film in its infancy. It’s scary, sure—unpredictable—a real change in the digital life they/we are so dominated by. But it’s human and dimensional and full of stuff we can’t get online. It’s what we humans are at our messy core, and for all those reasons I believe we’ll see the virtues of screen retraction start to be celebrated, with Gen Z leading the way.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

since your all things killer sans, I have something to think about

Does stage 3 and 4 have a name? Becuase I know stage 2 is killer and stage 1 is sans. Do they have a name? Or is this a system thing where their both named the same thing, their name is also killer, kinda like how systems can get multiple altars of the same thing or same character

Or they do and I'm just being an idiot-

Anyways that's all good bye, enjoy your day!👋

Killer Sans is not a canonical system, although he shows signs of an implied dissociative disorder. Not all dissociative disorders are DID, OSDD-1, or anything with alters or systems.

Also unlikely that Killer himself would know what he has—just that he experiences dissociative states he calls himself, but different enough in some way to warn others in Stage 1 (closest to Sans, but still uncertain if he is sans or not) to not trust him “when he’s like that” (stage 2) or kill him (stage 3.) His thought process is shown to be fragmented, and he relies on these for help on making choices it seems—when no one is around to tell him what to do.

Ultimately just what exact dissociative disorder Killer Sans has is completely up to fandom interpretation. We unfortunately don’t got a lot of canon information on Killer’s Stages—mostly 3 and 4–so you are free to interpret as you will.

If you go with the system interpretation, I feel it important to remember that not all alters need, want, or have different names, or a name at all. Also common in conditioned or ‘programmed’ systems, or systems formed under RAMCOA conditions. I don’t feel qualified to speak much on these types of systems so I won’t, especially when it’s very easy to spread misinformation.

If you want to give them different names, or nicknames, or the same names, or keep their numbered names—3 and 4, Stage 3 and Stage 4, etc.—go ahead.

I personally go with an OSDD-2 interpretation for Killer’s dissociative disorder. This means dissociative identity loss, confusion, and/or disturbance due to thought reform, torture, prolonged intense coercive persuasion, brainwashing, conditioning, programming, indoctrination, recruitment by terror organizations or sects. Results in prolonged changes in or conscious questioning of one’s identity and beliefs.

They become who they need to be to survive in and cope with a dangerous environment and an unbearable reality. Often to the benefit of their abusers and captors.

This is a disorder often found in adult survivors of cults, terrorist organizations, prisoners of war, hostages or those held captive for a long time. A great example, if fictional, of OSDD-2 is Bucky Barnes/the Winter Soldier.

The movies didn’t give him a lot of focus or give his years upon years of trauma enough focus or attention, didn’t handle it with care at all, bypassed the actual deprogramming process by completely getting rid of his Winter Soldier programming and conditioning immediately, but he’s still a good example.

If they hadn’t just had all his programming removed via magical science fuckery, he’d likely still struggle with his identity as Bucky Barnes (who he is free from hydra), the Winter Solider (the fist of hydra, the asset, who and what hydra made him into), and the person he was before the fall off the train.

Certain things would cue and trigger him to view, think, and react exactly how he would as if he were in the environment that created the asset even if he still may be aware he isn’t in the same environment anymore. Such as being completely unable to refuse an order from handler as soon as his trigger words are uttered.

Of course Bucky Barnes and Killer Sans are very special cases that couldn’t exist in real life due to the nature of their worlds—magic, souls, aliens, extremely advanced technology that was capable of wiping Bucky’s memory and forcing him to rebuild a new identity from the ground up every time—not to mention their absurdly long lifespans and immense amount of trauma.

Bucky was kept alive for what, around 90-100 years? Given the super soldier serum or something, kept frozen to keep his body young and fit and only unthawed for mission assignments and making sure his programming still worked.

Killer was kept alive and died through Determination and the Resets for who knows how long. The brain (and in Killer’s case, SOUL), and body will do whatever it thinks it must to survive and cope. Even if it doesn’t exactly fit known science/psychology because both of these characters defy all that noise.

{ @nightmarefandom }