#then its like a joke cause he only has like a day or two saved cause Grif took most of them from before so he's like

[dmitriyuriev]

Beast's Womb

Based off a scene from pixiv user Tono Ratel's fanfic 獣の胎.

[vanlegion]

I think at this point I have to pretty much regard season 19 as the truest form of 'Crack Taken Seriously' which. . . huwa, I could do (but damn it would be a struggle...)

But only if you believe in the narrative *NOT* shown.

There's an After for these guys. But I think that's kind of up to us? (. . . Yeah I'm already writing the AFTER fic. Fuck me.) So unless some miracle happens and either the IP gets bought up and the crew gets to do some little shorts like what the Crwby is doing ... Or Geoff and Gus ever pull off what Alexander Siddig and Andrew Robinson did for the Star Trek DS9 Bashir/Garak community. I guess we just make our own canon at this point.

[inotakumagf]

the strength to push forward

✶ gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count ✺ 1.6K

summary ✺ your mission goes terribly wrong. gojo is there to pick up the pieces.

warning ✺ the shitty side of being a sorcerer. hurt/comfort. everything sucks, but husband!gojo is there to take care of you. slight descriptions of injuries, blood, and death. reblogs & comments r appreciated ^u^

There is always the risk, as a jujutsu sorcerer. There is always going to be a threat that's larger than life, and there are always going to be people to save. You do what you can, and you always push yourself past your limits for the sake of your vow to protect and defend. Fight, protect, defend. Those words—those promises—circle your mind during every mission. You can never allow yourself to slip, not for a single moment. The higher ups demand perfection.

You must be perfect on every mission, because there is no room for error. You cannot fail, ever. You have been bound to perfection ever since you were promoted to Grade 1 sorcerer in your third year of high school. You were too young, too hopeful for what the world did to you. Your husband feels this pressure tenfold, because he has been viewed as a weapon for the sorcery world since he was born. The two of you have been spread thin with all the missions and assignments that you’ve taken on over the years, all for the sake of keeping everyone safe.

Tragedy after tragedy has wrought you weary, but you find strength in your husband. Not because his power and his technique make him “the strongest”. You have stood by him, and you’ve seen everything that he has suffered through. All that pain and loss, yet he still endures it for the sake of others, all with a smile on his face. He wants nothing more than to protect his students, non-sorcerers, and you. 

He is your strength, he keeps you fighting. And even now, as you watch the world fall apart around you, you can only think of Satoru.

You’ve been sent out on another mission. The briefing is the same as all the others: a Grade 1 curse is tormenting a small village, and you’ve been summoned to exorcise it. By all means, it should be an easy mission given the details you’ve been provided. But you had only just gotten back from another grueling mission, and because of that you haven’t slept in over 24 hours.

And the creature before you is not a Grade 1 curse.

It takes you only a moment to sense that this is a Special Grade. You’ve fought Special Grades before, but your body has already been pushed to the edge in this past week alone. A feeling of despair sinks into your gut. Fight, protect, defend. You clench your fists and summon your technique. You will die before you let this curse cause any more harm.

For a few minutes, you’re certain that you have the upper hand on the curse. But the damage that it causes is too much. You heave after every use of your cursed energy. Your technique has weakened, and your blows roll off the curse like air. It overwhelms you, and you sink to your knees. There are crumbled buildings around you. The village had begun its evacuation, but you know how many people have already died. You think this is where you meet your end. When you shut your eyes, you can see your husband as clear as day. He has a stupid joke on the tip of his tongue, as usual. You need to see him again. Your eyes snap open, and you face the curse head on.

It takes you a minute of fiddling to get the front door open. It’s difficult, with the arm you have pressed against the wound at your side. You could have—should have—gone to see Shoko when you completed your mission. But the only thing keeping you on your feet after exorcising the curse was the thought of your husband. A soft chant of Satoru, Satoru, Satoru has been the mantra to get you to stand and to move and to survive.

It is well past midnight, but you know Satoru will be up waiting for you. You hate for him to see you like this, but there is nothing you can do. As soon as you push the door open, you startle at the sight of him right before you. But of course, with his Six Eyes, he was expecting you. His uncovered eyes roam your injured body, and he pulls you into his arms.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, and you can see the pain in his face. You don’t say a word. You can’t in this state. The mission has left you numb and nonverbal. You want to scrub each layer of your skin off until there’s nothing left to remember. 

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers into your skin. His touch, his voice knocks something loose inside of you. It pulls you back down to Earth.

You sob into his neck, pulling him as close as you can. You want his energy to swallow you whole. “I-I couldn’t…so many people are dead because of me. I failed.” The confession comes out in a whisper, and the shame makes your tears multiply.

Satoru cradles your head against his chest, soothing your shaking frame as best as he can. He doesn’t speak as he pulls you silently towards the bathroom.

He doesn’t say anything, but you feel his reassurance in the way that he gently cleans and bandages your wounds. You feel it in the way that he stares at you, and in the way that he presses fluttering kisses along every inch of your skin. He is here, with you. Everything else is secondary to that.

He draws a warm bath for you, and he even adds in the fancy aromatherapy soap that you save for special occasions. He is uncharacteristically quiet as he scrubs you clean, trailing kisses along your sore arms up to your shoulders. He rubs body soap into your skin, letting you rest your head against his solid arm. Once the water has gone cold, Satoru helps you stand so that he can wrap a towel around your shivering body. He sweeps you off your feet and lifts you up bridal-style, which gets a laugh of surprise past your lips. You link your hands around his neck, tucking your face into his chest. He refuses to let you down, instead pulling you closer to him. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “My wonderful, wonderful other half.”

You don’t respond. Because you know you’ll just try to deny it. You just acknowledge his words with a delicate kiss on his jawline. A thank you for putting up with you, even though you know he’ll insist he isn’t “putting up” with anything.

He picks out comfortable pajamas, and he even helps you change into them. The feeling of his warm, gentle hands running over your body makes you want to sob all over again. When you’re dressed, he pulls you beside him under the covers of your shared bed. You rest face-to-face, and he leans even closer to brush his nose against yours. He lays one leg over your hip, tangling the other between your own legs. Satoru traces his fingers over your body, flexing his hand into your skin every few seconds, as if still convincing himself that you made it back. It makes you feel terrible, because you can’t stop thinking about how many people don’t have the same privilege of being with their loved ones. How many of them still have people waiting anxiously, hoping that they’re just late when really they’re gone? How many people will have empty graves, because there were no bodies to recover? How many–

“Hey,” Satoru whispers.

You pull yourself out of your head. You whisper back just as softly, “Hi.”

“I missed you today. The kids were acting stupid, and I thought of you.”

You hum. “What happened?”

His hand trails over your side gently as he recounts his day. “Yuji and Nobara challenged each other to a mochi-eating contest. I don’t even remember what prize they had agreed to. Megumi said I wasn’t allowed to participate. Said I’d eat all the mochi on my own.” He pouts, and you lean forward to kiss it away. You laugh when you taste the sweet dough on his tongue.

You pull back to give him a look. He pretends he doesn’t see it, snuggling into you sweetly. “Really, Satoru?”

He grins. “What? The kids don’t like kikufuku. I had to eat it, or else it would have gone to waste.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile at your husband’s antics. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek. “Don’t worry, I saved some black sesame mochi for you. Snatched it up before anyone else could take it.”

You know he’s jesting, because he always buys way too many sweets for the kids. But the mental image of him fighting his own students to save you your favorite flavor makes you smile.

“I love you,” he mutters into your skin, as if he’s storing his love there.

“I love you, too.”

He pulls you closer, if that’s even possible. This is where you belong. This is where you store your strength, your motivation to continue when everything has gone to shit—it lives here, with your beloved husband. You know that no matter how difficult everything gets, no matter how much you lose, Satoru will be here for you, and you will be here for him. Always.

[starlitsequins]

ship discourse is unserious but the "who would treat fiddleford better" arguments on tumblr are crazy to me because have we all forgotten nuance? anyways here's a relationship analysis:

fiddauthor has its own unhealthy aspects because ford not only tunnel-visioned on his research to the point of dismissing fiddleford, he was also being actively isolated by his abuser (bill), who was turning the two against each other. and, at the same time, fiddleford was actively lying to ford about the memory gun, then used it on ford, a complete violation of trust. in alex hirsch's own words, fiddleford was like a yes-man to ford (until he wasnt), to the detriment of both of them.

but also they found solace in each other, as two outcasts with similar interests. even if ford could be dismissive at times with his gifts, its so clear that he valued fiddleford as his one friend, that they found so much enjoyment in each other's company in both college and in gravity falls. and ignoring that is doing them both a disservice! none of the hurt they inflicted on each other was done out of malice; they were being slowly broken down by the environment around them.

fiddlestan is more difficult to dissect for obvious reasons but comparing stan's past failed relationships to a hypothetical one with fiddleford is a moot point. we're working with a vastly different scenario here. stan would need fiddleford to stay in his desperation to save ford, and fiddleford could be easily guilt-tripped despite his trauma. would stan be an asshole to fiddleford? yeah, he would probably grow impatient with fiddleford's anxiety, and they would have very clashing personalities and interests, along with bad trust issues. fiddleford would be very reliant on the memory gun at this point, and they both would be at their mental lowest: it would not be an easy or healthy relationship.

but at the same time, it's not difficult to see how two very broken people could find solace in each other, especially due to a shared grief. its a unique situation that only they could understand, so of course it would make sense that fiddleford's desire to fix vs stan's abandonment issues would lead to something, for better or for worse. at the end of the day, they both understand the broken bonds of family and they both want to feel needed. it's not farfetched to speculate that they'd find comfort in each other.

anyways. i love these three very flawed, very hurt, and very human individuals. i think they're capable of causing each other a lot of pain. they do cause each other a lot of pain. but also they grow and they heal, and it pains me to see people reduce them to their singular actions. (but also the jokes are funny so yknow...i get it carry on)

[afyrian]

line four - sampling desserts together m.list

    a large sign rests over the entrance of your local restaurant and bar, trellis tavern. backlighting illuminating the lettering. looking through the front doors, you don't see sakusa in sight. for a second, you look back at the parking lot your car is sitting in, wondering if this was a terrible idea. you barely know him, unsure of how he comes across outside of the workplace.

  and yet there'll always be that part of you that knows that the only way to save your show, is to get to know him better, break his walls. your tongue runs along your teeth, hand stuffed in your pocket while the other absentmindedly flips on and off the ringer of your phone. leaning towards the doors once more, you still don't see him.

  "sorry, parking was-" someone starts to say behind you, causing you to jump in your spot, pushing against the restaurant's outer wall, "horrendous..."

  turning around, you see sakusa standing there, his hands resting at his sides. your eyes are wide as your heart beats quickly in your chest, ringing forming in your ears. "you can't just- oh my god, you scared the living shit out of me," one of your hands comes up to your forehead, fingers running along your hairline.

  "sorry, was just trying to find parking," sakusa purses his lips, looking towards the restaurant, "we should probably see how long the wait is."

  assuming you'd follow him inside, he walks in briskly, his attitude to the point. narrowing your eyes, you wonder if he's this back and forth with everyone new or just you. especially after seeing him joke with atsumu in the break room. pushing open the restaurant's doors, you make your way in, listening to the soft music playing over the speakers. 

  there's a few people in front of him, leaving the two of you stand in silence. your gaze makes its way to him more than once, noticing little details about him and his appearance. like the beauty marks by his eyebrow and his hair that curls into a perfect pile above his head. or how he likes to look at certain things in the restaurant, the art, the people.

  he's quick to step up to the hostess, leaving space for you to join him, "we were wondering if you have any space for around twenty people tonight?"

  the hostess clears her throat upon hearing the request, her hands resting on the podium. "luckily for you, we have the event space that you could rent for a couple hours. the only issue is that we have an event going on currently that ends in around thirty minutes. if you could wait, we can send your phone a message and get you over here," her eyebrows raise as she realizes that they have the space available, knowing that they like to book a couple months out.

  writing down his number, you sway back and forth on the balls of your feet. "thank you..." sakusa nods, turning around to look at you, lips pursed, "and thank you for your good luck."

  "anytime," you wink, the action coming from a deep subconscious voice within, looking away from him, your nose scrunches up in disgust.

  "well we can grab a cake or two for the event, osamu has a food critic slash baker working at onigiri miya for the day. although, i think she's going to become more of a regular baker there," he maneuvers his body, walking around another customer waiting to talk to the hostess, a sly smile on his lips. 

  nodding softly, you can feel the excitement building as he starts to talk more. giving you information that only a close friend would be privy to. you can feel yourself smiling, your mouth turned into a soft crescent shape. following him down the street, you start to recognize the area. the pottery shop just a door down from onigiri miya, kiyoko's flower shop not too far away.

  sakusa opens the door for you, letting you enter the pristine restaurant. it's just how you remember it from your times visiting with atsumu. osamu stands by the cashier, the restaurant slowly dying down from what you assume to be a rather busy day with the offering of cake. he's leaning against the counter, talking to someone bringing another cake forward.

  her gaze quickly finds the two of you entering, giving osamu a wave before heading to the back. "so, the cakes seem to be a hit. you guys gonna make it a regular thing.. or?" sakusa crosses his arms in front of his chest, his smile still holding.

  osamu shakes his head, leaning back, "how about i just ask what you guys would like to eat? hi y/n, it's been awhile since i've seen you around here."

  "been ordering a lot online, if you see any getting ordered to the station it's usually me. but we're actually here to get some cake for the station's anniversary, twenty-five years. and we have to wait for the space to finish up," you nod, staring down the few cakes that the woman had brought forward, the decorations looking out of this world. 

  nodding his head, osamu grabs a serving knife, taking a couple slices and resting them on a plate. "take these, try them out, and i'll set aside a few cakes for you guys," he sets down the plate, grabbing a couple forks for the two of you to use.

  not passing on the offer of a free slice of cake, you happily take it. and with the atmosphere that onigiri miya garners, it's easy to be happy sitting in a corner table, looking out the windows. it's starting to get dark outside, the colorful hues in the sky starting to form as the days get shorter. shoving a fork into one of the slices, you take a bite, dwelling in the sweet aroma. 

  "so how'd you meet the miya brothers?"

  "i actually met them in secondary school, played volleyball against them. they were as insufferable as they are now, but as a team they were scary," sakusa takes a bite of the other slice, holding his fork up in the air as his elbow rests on the table, casually, "how'd you meet them?"

  "met atsumu at the station, when he was a writer for one of the fiction audio shows. don't even know how they hired him for a writing position, not with his... creative abilities," you laugh, knowing that writing was never gonna be where he ended up. 

  "when he somehow recommended me for a position there i was actually surprised he wasn't lying the whole time about this show he was gonna be on," sakusa shakes his head, using his fork to grab a piece from your slice.

  narrowing your eyes, you reach your fork down and take a piece from his. tasting it, you realize that this cake would be perfect for the event. and that, hopefully now, sakusa's seeing you as more than just a coworker. but as someone he could go to lunch with, rant about romance or life problems. "yeah i'm not surprised. so, i hope you're enjoying ‘talk it out’ as much as you liked ‘late night rebounds’,” you shrug, trying to come across as nonchalant.

  “yeah, it has been more enjoyable to hear about friends crushing on one another instead of relentless one night stands,” one of his hands scratch the back of his head, taking another bite.

  smiling, you finally feel like you’re breaking through his shell. that the pounding in your heart and ears stems from a new friendship that you’re brewing.

a/n: osamu’s ‘mystery’ friend is y/n from @/lale-txt’s soft launch :D taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@jadeoru @yessimo @lale-txt @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sugacor3

@quikhs @todorokiskitten @mollyrolls @honeyfewr @pookiebearcave

@phoenix-eclipses @madiexuberant @kameyyy @cr4yolaas @asrichin

@bakugouswh0r3 @bakingcuriosity @zazathezaer

[pastelwoolfie]

i know it’s somewhat of a joke how optimus behaves in the bayverse films compared to literally any of his other counterparts, but hear me out:

ITS SO FUCKING FUNNY

like in that 1st movie he was all ‘sentience is the right of all living beings’ and ‘sacrifice me to save yourself, sam’ and ‘sacrifice bumblebee for the good of the cause’ wait, what? and all ‘my poor friend *sadly holds jazz’s two seperate pieces*

and then whatever the FUCK happened in the time between movies 1 & 2 optimus. like something in his heart must have heartened or broke or maybe something in his mind snapped cause by the time the 2nd film comes around he’s all like “WASTE OF METAL” and “PIECE OF TIN” and “I’LL TAKE YOU ALL ON” and come to the end of the movie he goes “GIVE ME YOUR FACE” as he rips the fallen face apart and literally rips his spark out of his chest and pops it like a goddamn water balloon

meanwhile tfp optimus stops himself from murking megatron on SEVERAL different occasions because he refuses to hurt someone who can’t fight back bayverse optimus has killed megatron like 3 times

and earthspark optimus is over there like *stupid smile* and *goofy grin* and *thumbs up*

don’t misjudge my tone. i love ALL these optimuses. ESPECIALLY bayverse optimus. as absolutely fucking feral as he can be, which i do love, he also just says the darndest things. like “there are questions in this universe we were never meant to know, but who we are and why we’re here is not among them.” which GENUINELY makes me tear up because. that’s just a beautiful message? then there’s “we can be heroes in our own lives, every one of us, if we only have the courage to try.” like JUST SAY MORE THINGS. PLEASE. I WOUKD LISTEN TO YOU ALL FUCKING DAY

[fuxuannie]

↳ pairing : miles morales x g-neutral reader

↳ synopsis : (first part of) sfw alphabet with miles !!

↳ authors note : could contain astv spoilers ?? i think i'll do another alphabet w a spiderverse character soon when i finish this!! ive been working on a hobie fic but his british is killing me PLZ save me im SOBBING its being delayed just cause hes british thats crazy

— ❥ Affection - is he the affectionate type?

☆☆ I think Miles is really affectionate with his partner, holding hands and all of that. Tries to be a romantic (and fails sometimes cause hes far too silly for that) but he's doing his best!! Affection is definitely very important to him so :)

— ❥ BEGINNER - is he new 2 relationships?

☆☆ Definitely, you'd be his first love and so he tries his best with you. He'll make sure to take you out on good dates, meet your parents, make like thousands drawings of you in his sketchbook and just generally try to hide the nerves of being in a relationship. Of course, Miles isn't perfect, but you understand that and just accept him nevertheless.

— ❥ CUDDLING - does he like 2 cuddle ?? how does he like 2 cuddle :)) ??

☆☆ Cuddling is a need, it is a requirement. He will demand cuddling at least once every day just so he feels something in his cold and empty soul. (he's being sarcastic, please cuddle him hes so sad when you don't)

— ❥ Domestic - does he wanna settle some day ?? how good is he at household chores ??

☆☆ Miles is a teenager, that kind of thing has yet to cross his mind or atleast think of it super seriously. But he would love to move in with you at some point, make you breakfast in bed and stuff like that. He definitely used to help his mom when he was younger, just gives off the vibe :))

— ❥ Ending - how n why would he end things with you ??

☆☆ The only thing that would push Miles that far is for your own safety. When he dates someone, he doesn't wanna do it just because you two like each other, he dates to stay together and not for a fleeting feeling that'll come to pass. But it hurts him more to leave someone he still loves, but knows its for your safety <\3

— ❥ Fiance(e) - marriage? commitment?

☆☆ I mean, same reason with the letter D, he's a teenager so that thing doesn't really cross his mind. He does like to joke around that he'll propose to you with a bagel or something.. (uh oh)

— ❥ Gentle - is he gentle physically and emotionally ??

☆☆ He tries his best to be. He understands how a lot of things can be overwhelming and hard to understand, so whether you need his emotional or physical help he's always willing to give it. He'll give you words of affirmation or hold you till you feel better. :)

— ❥ Hugs - does he like em ?? does he hate em??

☆☆ Miles LOVES it when you hug him, especially when you initiate it first. He'll sometimes pick you up and do a little spin because it makes him that happy T_T♡ Please hug him, he needs it badly after everything

— ❥ I love you - how long did it take for him to say it ?? does he say it often ??

☆☆ Miles took his time when it came to finally saying 'I love you'. He wanted to make sure that he'd mean it, and will continue to mean it while you guys are together. When it comes to saying I love you, he wants it to be in appropriate times and places but he usually says it when hes sleepy and just has no filter at all.

— ❥ Jealousy - does he get jealous often ??

☆☆ Yes and Miles makes it very obvious. You find it amusing every time he'll pull you by your waist towards him so he can hold you by his side. He'll urge you to continue your conversation, but the person you're speaking to can tell he is one minor inconvenience away to picking you up and just running off. (he'll only ever act like this if the person has clear intentions that were NOT approved of by him)

— ❥ Kissing - does he like kissing ?? how does he like 2 kiss ??

☆☆ He does the upside down kiss at like any given moment while he's on patrol. HE LOVES DOING IT he thinks its the most silly thing ever and the way the first time he tried it, his web snapped and he fell before he could kiss is ENGRAVED in your memory. Of course, he'll enjoy smaller kisses like on the nose or on his forehead cause it makes him feel soso soft.

— ❥ Little Ones - is he good with kidz ?!

☆☆ HES AWFUL. have you seen the scene with him and Mayday?! He has never held a child a day in his life, he will call an infant baby 'bro' or something and try to take it skateboarding. He will try if you have younger siblings, it's like training to get into the family; if you can handle the little menaces you are welcomed <3.

[hero-israel]

homelessness and the housing crisis is growing, healthcare is shit, education system is shit, ppl can barely find jobs, white supremacy movements is growing, etc etc etc but ppl are willing to let trump win bc biden and kamala aren’t anti israel. as if trump isn’t even more outwardly pro israel than they are?? and why are we letting issues in israel and palestine, that yes are important, decide what president we elect in the united states of america???

foreign policy has never played such a big role in an election since what, vietnam?? afghanistan? but americans were getting affected by those two on a large scale. there are only a few US spec ops forces in israel rn, and that’s mainly to help identify hostages especially american ones. and ppl are blaming all of these issues above on US aid money to israel when that’s not the cause of it and would most likely just increase under trump. ffs i hate these leftists so much.

In Putin's Russia, robots program people!

This is the most obvious case I've ever seen of trollbot accounts swaying public opinion and motivating previously normal-ish people towards political extremism and even violence. It's like all the propaganda we see whipping up angry mobs in "The Boys," but on the other side; their college diplomas did not save them from becoming Sandy Hook Truthers.

I remember when Occupy Wall Street fizzled out ineffectively - and that was about day-to-day economic conditions for American voters! People couldn't motivate themselves over that, but some influencer talking about a "Gaza famine" could help Trump carry MIchigan? A repulsive, sick joke.

The epistemic closure of leftists needs a lot more examination. I will not forget the person who posted this: "Do you dare to claim that the Left promote anywhere in the world real anti-semitism, namely theories that the Jews are by their nature evil or inferior or that they are the root of all the problems in the world  ? Or do you claim perhaps that the Left promote policies of discrimination or exclusion towards Jews, let alone of persecution of the Jews ?...

...Anti-semitism is not a problem for the Left as a movement for the reason that I have explained above, namely the total incompatibility between the worldview of the Left and anti-semitism. The same obtains for anti-Black racism. Perhaps there are some leftist individuals with residual anti-Black tendencies, but obviously anti-Black racism is not today a problem for the Left as a whole, as the Left is in its very essence for the equality and equal dignity of all people”

Homelander can't be a badguy, he's the goodguy

[lullabibi]

HIIIII i (raven) drew some of our sparkle on raven ocs!!!!!!

these are gene (she/it, left) and lucky hapigo (he/him, right)!!!! theyre our special little mipys and i love them dearly <33333333 we have an art acc but im posting this to our main idgaf LOL ill just rb it there

anyway info on them in the read more!!!!!

---

about gene!!!

we made her for the purpose of an unfinished fic. shes supposed to be the "maidler" (maid+butler) of ai seeyu, who we hc is fiiiilthy rich. she and ai are best friends, and they have this sort of symbiotic relationship?

ai does all the talking when guests are over, and generally does anything that needs any sort of Smarts, because gene doesnt like to speak much and isnt very book smart. on the other side though, gene loves to do house chores and take care of ai, and do basically anything that needs heavy lifting, which we hc ai cant do due to disability.

theyre around the same age id say? im not really sure. gene doesnt attend the school as of the fic, but i like to think it starts attending after the events of said fic!!!!! she hangs out with the one star students pretty much exclusively. shes really shy.

also yes her design and name are a vague nod to the jackbox character gene! we conceptualized her first with the idea of a maid/butler character that we could make a fesh pince joke out of, so we started with the nickname "g" and bibi just went uhhh GENE for its actual name LOL

---

about lucky!!!

lucky we first thought of with the concept of "sor oc with a voiceclaim of skullvolver" that i THINK came right after the godgame stream with the iconic payphone bit?? cause we were like oh skull is the only one on this stream not in sor. thatd be funny to make as a joke. ...it was quickly no longer a joke. the voiceclaim part isnt super serious though LOL he sounds like that annoying ppl as spiderman bit

we came up with the name lucky hapigo because name puns are very fitting with sor, and it kinda fit well with the personality we wanted to give him!!!! lucky is basically as his name says!!! happy go lucky!!!! hes in the hero club, a very small club of two tokusatsu type heroes who get no work because raven is saving the day all the time before they get a chance. hes pissed at her for it.

initially i was gonna make raven and lucky cousins? im still on the fence about it. currently not canon to his lore but idk it still could be LOL

ALSO I OC X CANON SHIP HIM WITH ZERO. YKNOW THE GOKU KNOCKOFF ONE STAR STUDENT. THAT GUY. i thought itd be funny and cute LOL. theyre really cute together in my heart. two very nice boys who are kind of dumb and need to spar with everything that moves.

also lucky LOOOOVES idols. hes strawberrys biggest fan and clams up when hes near her LOL hes always cheering for her!!!!!!

his toku fit currently doesnt exist i havent designed it LOL. i dont think he has a Full helmet, just a half one with a visor and lets his ponytail stick out the back. its probably very magical "girl"/idol adjacent though. idk!!!!

can you tell im attatched to him

[kanbockoida]

Third time’s the charm

Adam x fem!Reader x Lucifer

Warnings: none<3

Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Masterlist

Arriving home, the couple had two very different moods. Adam had a smug look on his face, chest swelling with pride. He felt as if he had won the entirety of this petty fight. “The nerve of that guy, am I right?” Adam scoffed, turning to look at his wife with that very same, smug expression.

He was expecting her to be happy, since he practically just saved her from Lucifer’s advances. However, the sight he was met with was not a pretty one. His wife wore a nasty glare on her face, arms crossed over her chest as she stared right into his eyes. “Care to tell me what that was about?” Y/N forced out her words as nicely as she could, yet a hint of anger was still heard. Adam only stared at the woman with a confused expression, clearly not understanding what his wife was hinting at.

“What do you mean? The meeting went fine, did it not?” He hummed, dismissing his wife’s concerns as he took off his mask, placing it on its usual spot in their home. Y/N’s face reddened in anger, hands clenching to regulate it. “The thing you said? ‘I swear on my wife’?” She spat at him. Y/N has never been this angry before. Her husband only blinked, staring at her like a deer in headlights.

He really didn’t have a clue..

Suddenly, it seemed like it clicked for him. However, he seemed extremely defensive. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. It was a joke, there’s nothing wrong with trying to joke around. You’re my wife, not his.” He shrugged, simply walking past her, upstairs to their shared bedroom. The shorter woman stormed after him, eyebrows still furrowed. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you even aware of the severity of that situation, Adam? You swore on me! You made a deal with Lucifer.” Word after word poured out of her mouth, trying to make Adam see that he was wrong, that he had messed up big time.

Adam spun around, cutting his wife off with a sharp glare, crossing his arms over his chest. “God, don’t make a scene out of this! It was a joke. I’m sure nothing bad is going to happen!” Never had he ever raised his voice at his wife, but the trauma he suffered because of his ex-wives caused him to act irrationally, even though his current wife gave him no reason to not trust her.

His hard-headedness made her snap in a way. He was selfish for only thinking of himself during this whole interaction and the situation itself. What about her? Does she mean nothing to him?

“You’re a spineless coward, Adam! You sold me off to Lucifer with those words you said earlier! You’ve condemned me to an eternity of torment if you even make a slight mistake during the next extermination! I thought we trusted each other more than anything, did my love mean nothing to you?! I curse the day I was created for you, you despicable excuse of a husband!” Her words stung like sharp knives, stabbing into his heart with precision over and over again. For the first time in forever, the first man was silent. Usually, he always had something to say, especially at a time like this to protect his ego from being bruised. Now?

He’d even go as far as saying his wife was right.

“Little flower, I-” He was immediately cut off by Y/N, not having any of it. “You do not have the right to be calling me that now.” She scowled, sending him one last, nasty glare before retreating into their shared bedroom. Adam wasn’t expecting a simple meeting to result in him fighting with his wife. Alarm bells immediately went off in his brain when he saw his wife angrily stuffing clothes into a bag. Shit, was she actually leaving him?

A panicked expression made its way onto the man’s face as he rushed towards his wife worriedly, trying to take her hands in his, yet to no avail. “Honey- what are you doing? Please don’t do what I think you’re doing!” His voice was wavering, his entire body seemingly filling up with dread. He was afraid. Afraid of his beloved leaving him. Afraid of his past repeating itself once more.

The woman stopped for a moment, a sigh leaving her body. She was an idiot. An idiot for loving that buffoon of a man. She zipped up her bag, turning to look at Adam with an almost emotionless face. Deep inside, she felt the same pain her husband felt.

Their hearts were still one and the same, after all.

“I’m not leaving you. I just need some.. space. I love you so much Adam, but this whole situation is really getting to me.” She might love him, but she still needed space. Lightly throwing the bag over her shoulder, the angel straightened her posture. “I’ll see you, Adam.”

Y/N looked at her husband, her eyes being the only thing showing emotion were her eyes. With a now dejected expression, Y/N quickly walked past her beloved. She couldn’t bear looking into his eyes. Whenever they had a little quarrel, Adam always used his eyes to his advantage.

Adam stared after his wife, feeling as if he had lost everything in such a short amount of time.

In the entirety of Heaven, Y/N only had one true friend, which just so happened to be the head Seraphim. Sera took her in without a second thought, tending to her broken heart, listening to all her worries and problems.

“Come, now. You will be fine, I am sure of it. You and Adam are one. He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed in serious situations, but now that he realized his mistake, I’m sure he will be extra careful during the exterminations.” Sera always managed to calm Y/N down, the motherly tone in her voice being the main cause of that. The heartbroken woman sighed, pulling her wings further around her body to make it look like she was hiding in a cocoon. “I know, Sera.. but that doesn’t change the fact that he did it.” Whined Y/N, a soft groan of frustration leaving her right after. Sera gave a small yet sad smile, feeling the woman’s pain. Putting a hand on her back, the head Seraphim tried her best to be a supportive friend. She was aware that Y/N hasn’t felt strong emotions like these before, since there never was a reason to feel like this.

A few days had passed ever since Adam’s and Y/N’s fight, and the angel has been staying with Sera. Even though she has been feeling horrible, Y/N still decided to work, maybe more than usual. Sera had informed her about yet another small meeting with the King of Hell who requested to discuss the numbers in small detail. Y/N was a little surprised, yet of course she agreed to it. In her eyes, Lucifer had the right to know the exact numbers. Gathering everything, the woman hummed a calm tune. There were a lot of documents that reached back many, many centuries.

Arriving at the same place as last time, Y/N took a seat somewhere near where Lucifer sat last time so they could review the documents better. To her however, it was quite weird that the Morningstar had requested this meeting.. Doesn’t he have access to these numbers as well, since it’s Sinners that are getting killed? The woman shrugged, dismissing that thought immediately. There has to be more to it, she was so sure of it.

After a few moments of waiting silently, the huge doors to the room swung open, revealing the very man she was expecting to see, dressed in the same suit as last time. Their eyes met, the familiar feeling enveloping their hearts, just like last time. It felt.. fulfilling, but neither of them could figure out how to properly explain that feeling. “Your Majesty, it’s a pleasure to see you again!” Y/N sent him a tiny smile, her mood lifting just a bit. Lucifer’s smile was genuine, even if it seemed.. distraught. “Please, I told you last time Lucifer is just fine. I assume you are aware why I asked Sera to send you?” The question rolled off his tongue so smoothly, the nervousness he had seemingly disappearing in the blink of an eye.

The angel blinked a couple of times, trying to process his quick question. When her brain processed it appropriately, she nodded her head. “I received the information that you wanted to discuss the numbers of past exterminations, correct?” The woman asked, head tilting to the side as a force of habit. Lucifer let out a nervous laugh once more, trying to figure out what he should say next. “Well! Technically it’s.. worse?” He shrugged, eyes darting everywhere around the room. His reaction made her freeze, confusion clouding her brain in an instant. What did he mean with worse? Y/N’s gaze spoke louder than a thousand words, Lucifer going on to explain what he meant. “Has Adam told you.. anything at all?” Asked the Morningstar, to which the woman slowly shook her head, feeling her hands getting clammy. What could he be hinting at?

“He’s moving up the extermination, as discussed with Sera. I noticed you weren’t present during the meeting, so my first guess was that you.. weren’t let in on the plan?” With every word, Y/N’s heart dropped further. Why would Adam go behind her back like this? And Sera? She couldn’t believe her ears. Her husband kept a secret this big? “They.. what? What do you mean they moved up the extermination?” A panicked expression formed on her face, staring at Lucifer as if demanding answers.

“What I mean is the next extermination is in six months, and I thought I’d let you know just in case. Judging by your reaction I take it you had no idea.” Lucifer seemed.. worried. But in Y/N’s panicked state she didn’t realize it.

“No! I had no idea!” Her voice sounded terrified and angry all at the same time, not understanding what was going on. The angel’s mind seemed.. scrambled.

Betrayal, sharp and biting, pierced through the serenity of her celestial being, leaving behind a hollow ache where trust once resided. Each word felt similar to a haunting melody of deception that shattered the harmonious symphony of their union. In her eyes, once pools of boundless trust and compassion, now flickered a tempest of sorrow and disbelief. Deep inside Y/N felt as if she had no right to be feeling this way. No matter how hard she tried to make it stop, it failed.

For an angel, whose essence was woven from purity and truth, this revelation was a dagger plunged deep into the core of her being, leaving behind only the ruins of a love once cherished, now tarnished by the stain of betrayal.

In the aftermath of the revelation, the angel's wings, once radiant with celestial light, now drooped with the weight of her sorrow, their majestic feathers dulled by the shadows of betrayal. Her celestial grace faltered, stumbling amidst the ruins of her shattered trust, each step heavy with the burden of disbelief and anguish. Slowly, the woman turned her head to look at Lucifer, and the look in her eyes reminded him of himself.

Despair. Anguish. This was the only way he could describe this. He felt horrible for laying this on her, but she had a right to know, as it was her husband creating plans behind her back without even thinking of telling her. The last time he had seen her, which wasn’t even two weeks prior, her eyes were so full of life and joy. He felt as if he were to blame for taking it aways, being the bearer of bad news in this situation.

A new thought quickly nested itself into Lucifer’s mind..

Why was he even telling her this?

[actuallysaiyan]

Nocturne Of Shadow(Part II)

warnings: mentions of death, assassinations, poison mentions, some light flirting, some StainMight going on, Ninja AU pairings: Swordsman!All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Kunoichi!Reader word count: 2k summary: a few days after your honoured guest begins his healing process, you receive a lovely visit from your cousin Chizome. though you two relive some harrowing memories, your cousin finds it funny to flirt with Yagi-sama, who returns the favour so gracefully.

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @thissaintjessi @cherryblossombankai @thestarsystemsworld @pixelcafe-network

Masterlist

The night is quiet save for the sounds of cicadas and some cats fighting out in the field. Despite the silence, you find yourself on high alert. You have a wanted man in your bedroom and you spent the day making the clans in your village come to an agreement about him. They were weary of the repercussions of having such a man in the village.

It had been hectic and you were desperate for them to just listen to you. 

He’ll be a big help.

He’s going to heal first then he’s going to help protect the village.

I am your princess, you should know I would never put you in danger.

Though you were right, it still made them apprehensive and angry. You so longed for your mother to be at your side. She had died giving birth to your youngest sister so many years ago. You wished she could still be here with you to give you such a tender little kiss and a pat on the back.

You hear rustling in the bushes and you’re quick to grab a kunai. The nocturnal flowers can wait to be harvested. It would seem someone has other ideas for you and your guest inside the house.

You tiptoe around the large evening primrose bush to find the person responsible for spying. As swift as a cat hunting its prey, you place your kunai on their neck. You swear the smell of iron on this person is very familiar.

“That isn’t very ladylike of you, Lady Hana.”

The voice belongs to a shinobi you know very well. It’s your cousin, Stendhal. Or rather, Chizome, but you know better than to address him by that name. You lower your kunai and back up.

“It’s been so long. Why are you sneaking up on me like this? Are you just wanting to play a foolish little game with me?” You inquire, ready to hug him.

He laughs, “You haven’t changed much…yet what is this I hear you have a man living with you?”

This causes you to pause and look away. You’re thankful for the nighttime darkness to hide the blush on your cheeks. Then you laugh softly.

“It’s Yagi-sama. From the Land of Stars.”

Chizome laughs loudly, holding his belly. Surely you must be joking, he thinks to himself. Why would you, the princess of the Doku no Hana clan have the master swordsman from Hoshi no Kuni in her home?

“That fool?! Hmph, are you serious right now?” Chizome asks.

“I found him on my travels one day. I was out in the bamboo forest collecting herbs. He was hurt.”

Chizome hums. “Hurt? He must have had a formidable foe. Or was it you who struck him down?”

“It wasn’t me…it was the Faceless Man.”

This leaves you both silent. Your cousin has come face to face with the Faceless Man himself. It left him disfigured and with less self-esteem to begin with. Your cousin was never the same after that battle.

“That bastard. He’s out to kill everyone, isn’t he?” Chizome growls. “I won’t let that man touch you.”

You shake your head. “The Faceless Man could never hurt me, cousin.”

You gasp as Stendhal lowers his mask and he pulls you in closer. He presses a loving kiss to the top of your head as he holds you close. You two are the only ones left from your clan. Though Stendhal is from the branch family, you two grew up together. You’re close, though he’s not always around the village.

“I’m very sorry for always being on the road. I should be here more often, I should have done more for you and your sisters.”

His words hit you hard. You feel your stomach flip. The thought of what happened to your sisters, it’s a thought that you try to forget. You want to forget the reality of what happened to your clan. A once proud and strong and determined clan has now been reduced to only two members.

“They were so young. I just remember how happy I had been when they were married.” You are thinking of the day your sisters had gone away.

“They were happy. A new life ahead of them.”

You two are trying not to relive the gruesome details. Your three younger sisters, married off and sent to live in another part of the country. And when everyone was far apart and you were too far to come to their rescue, a blood massacre had happened.

The outcome of that massacre left you without siblings. Your mother and father had four daughters. You were the oldest and set to be the princess. You were your mother’s heir. The apple of her eye too. Whereas your father doted strongly on your kid sisters. And for a clan that was matriarchal, this was the perfect dynamic.

Your father succumbed to a deadly disease in the spring of your seventeenth year. It had torn you apart to see him so sickly. And while the cherry blossoms bloomed, you buried your father. His death had been just as sickeningly painful as losing your mother. You remained the clan's head for a long time until there was nobody left but you...and Chizome.

After your whole family perished, you vowed to be forever stronger for yourself and for the rest of the village. You were deemed the princess who never cried. Though you seemed heartless, you just kept your feelings deep inside of you to keep the village and the clans protected.

“It’s okay, Chizome.” You say after a moment of silence. “We had no idea what was to happen to them.”

He snarls. “Don’t call me that.”

You roll your eyes and hug him tighter, “Fine, Stendhal.”

He holds you at arm's length, looking over you. He swears you grow stronger every time he sees you. You are a lovely vision as well, any man would be lucky to have you as their wife.

“Show me the man.” He commands.

You shrug your shoulders, “Alright.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You and Stendhal stay in the kitchen for a bit as you make some pain relieving tea and a hearty broth for your guest. He was healing well day to day, but there was still so much left to do in the recovery process. You carefully place the mug and bowl down on the wooden tray, then you look at your cousin.

“Are you ready to meet Yagi-sama?” You ask, handing a mug of tea to him.

He shrugs. “He can’t be all that great.”

He seems so unsure of your guest, but everything changes when you open the door to your room and Yagi smiles at both of you. He’s sitting up on the bed, reading a book from your bookshelf.

Chizome swears his stomach erupts into butterflies. How could one man be that gorgeous? Yagi-sama looks at Chizome curiously, but then his eyes widen in realization. He knows who Chizome is.

“Stendhal-sensei. You are quite the legend.” Yagi-sama says as he tries to stand up, but there’s still a lot of pain in his sides.

“You’re one to talk, Yagi-sama of Hoshi no Kuni.”

You roll your eyes as your cousin and Yagi begin to hype each other up. Of course, leave it to Chizome to fall in love with your guest. It’s even more funny considering how he was just talking down your guest before coming into the room.

“I didn’t realize you two were close,” Yagi says.

“We’re cousins. Stendhal-sensei and I are the only two left from our family.”

You sit on the edge of the bed and place the tray on Yagi’s lap. He looks at you solemnly and with tender concern. You try to fight the blush that’s adorning your cheeks, but it’s impossible with a man as charming as the master swordsman.

“I understand that. I am the only man from my family and I lost my sensei to the Faceless Man.” Yagi explains.

You frown. “It would seem that the Faceless Man is someone we all despise.”

You spoon up some broth and bring it to Yagi’s mouth. It’s now his turn to blush, but he happily sips on the broth. You do this a few more times in silence before Chizome pipes up.

“I’m going to murder him.” He spits out. “That damn Faceless Man fucked me up. He’s the reason why your sisters aren’t alive anymore.”

You look away ashamed. “There’s no reason to plot revenge like this. Please, Stendhal, remain calm for my guest.”

Yagi-sama places his hand on your shoulder before giving your cousin a sharp look. He then cups your chin and tilts your head to look him in the eyes.

“He has taken so many from us. The Faceless Man deserves to die by our hands.”

The words resonate in your mind. Yagi-sama wasn’t lying; you all did deserve to get revenge. You remember that the men who assassinated your sisters were tied to the Faceless Man. He had your sisters killed just because they were from your clan.

“You’re damn right! He’s going to die by our hands.” Chizome cheers, smirking at Yagi.

“I like your spirit, Stendhal. Will you be staying with us for a while?”

This causes your cousin to stammer. He doesn’t usually stay long. If he even stays the night, that’s a miracle. But when Yagi asks him this, it causes him to rethink his decision to leave so suddenly. He looks at you, smirking.

“Oh it seems that your honored guest would like me to stay, Lady Hana. May I please remain here in your quarters?” Stendhal does a mock bow.

“I told you not to call me that. That title is very meaningless in these times.” You shoot Chizome a look that tells him to not push the subject of the title further. “I suppose, you can stay. It would be nice to have you home.”

Chizome sits on the other side of Yagi-sama and sips on his own tea. You continue to feed Yagi, though you swear you can see your cousin’s mocking glance. When you’re finished feeding him, you help him wipe his mouth.

“You are much too kind, kunoichi. I appreciate every moment of it.” Yagi praises.

“You’re my guest, Toshinori. I want you to heal well.”

Chizome’s eyes widen when he hears Yagi’s given name. Oh, now this is rich. You certainly had the master swordsman charmed. Chizome nudges Yagi gently with his elbow.

“You’ve got her calling you by your given name. Are you looking to court my cousin?” Chizome inquires, leaning in close to Yagi.

Yagi’s cheeks burn. “Well I mean, she is a lovely lady and I wouldn’t be mad if she…but I mean—”

“Oh, would you rather court me instead? I’m quite the catch, Yagi-sama.”

“Well, you are quite the catch. I’ve heard lots of stories of your accomplishments. They say you’re…”

You give a nasty look to your cousin. Leave it to Chizome to make the legendary master swordsman blush like crazy. Yagi-sama keeps going on and on about Chizome’s accomplishments as a shinobi.

“Yeah, he’s whipped.” Chizome states as he gets up and stretches. “Tell ya what, swordsman. If you are able to defeat me and my cousin in battle, I’ll let you have the choice of courting either one of us.”

And with that, he leaves the room. You sit on the edge of the bed, trying to think of what to say to smooth over the whole situation. You gasp when Yagi grabs your hand and he presses a little kiss to the top of it.

“Then, my lady, you have my word. I shall defeat you in battle once I’m fully healed. Then I would be honored to have you fighting by my side.”

Your cheeks are burning and you try to tell him it’s not necessary, but you can tell by the look in his eyes and the smile on his face that he is very happy to be a part of this. Yagi-sama feels like he actually belongs somewhere now. And for him to belong to someone, he could finally be truly happy.

“So be it, master swordsman. But I will tell you now, Stendhal-sensei is not one to take lightly. He can best almost all the shinobi of the land.”

Yagi smirks. “I’m not just any shinobi. I am Yagi Toshinori of Hoshi no Kuni. And I will beat you both.”

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2025– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[hearts4youz]

The Captains Daughter -Chapter 3-

A/N Sorry for the longer wait!!! chapters 4 and 5 are ready to go and will be out this week/weekend as well!! hope yall are doing great and enjoy this chapter! its a bit of a slow one, the next few are too but I promise it will get better!!

@abbiesxox

Word count: 1.1k

Reader pov:

*Beep beep*

*Beep beep*

4:45 AM, your alarm was blaring. You let out an ungodly noise as you stretched your still sleeping muscles, reaching over to shut it off. Breakfast started in 15 mins, reporting was mandatory. You used the restroom, brushed your teeth, washed your face with your standard issue bar of soap, which to be honest, didn't do much for skincare. It was more for sterilization than anything.

You combed your hair back into a low ponytail. Luckily the uniform regulations were much more relaxed here than your old base. Your hair only needed to be tied back in some form if it was past chin length, instead of the required sleek low bun most other military organizations required.

Putting on your uniform and double knotting your shoes, you opened your door and began walking to the mess. Almost running face first into a man with a mustache. You looked up to apologize and realized it was your father.

"Watch where you're going fatass," You joked. (A/N- please tell me yall got the mean girls reference.)

Your dad laughed, your footsteps fell in sync and the two of you walked to breakfast together.

"How was your first day of training with your Lieutenant?"

"I don't think I'm up to his standards," you confessed. Remembering Ghost's disapointment with you the day before

"Ah yeah, Ghost is tough to please. Don’t stress about it kid, if he’s mean to you it usually means he likes you,” He winked.

You rolled your eyes, “he doesn’t even think I belong here, he kicked my ass when we sparred.”

“Ghost is a great soldier, he’s incredibly strong and has seen a lot of hand to hand combat. He can be blunt, but it’s cause he wants to make you better, not boost your confidence,” your dad tries reassuring you.

“Thank you dad, but something tells me him and I won’t get along too well," your opinion unchanged.

He sighs, the two you enter the mess hall and fall into line.

"Speak of the devil," your dad says, lightly elbowing you.

you turned around to see Ghost and Soap had gotten in line behind you.

"Captain!" Soap exclaimed, with just a tad too much energy for 5 in the morning."

You looked up at him and grinned. He had shaved his face, which appeared to have shaved a decade off of his life.

"MacTavish!" Your father clapped him on the back. "You don't look a day over twelve," he teased.

The four of you laughed, the first time you've seen your lieutenant do anything of the sort.

Ghost caught your quizzical expression and quickly stopped, expression reducing to the same stone faced soldier you were growing familiar with.

"Ghost?" Soap wondered why he stopped laughing.

Soaps gaze switched from him to you.

"Oh," was all that came out of his mouth

You were confused, why wouldn't Ghost laugh around you?

Why did soap seem to instantly know why?

Ghost pov:

I was not about to let Y/N see my "human" side, maybe once she proves she can handle herself. I think as I fork bacon onto my tray.

I dared to steal a glance at her, she was back to talking and laughing with Soap and Price. It is odd seeing someone act so informal around him. I know he is her father and all, but everyone else acts so reverent towards him.

I am due to continue her training at 4:00 this afternoon. Dread fills my veins. I hate the thought of being in charge of the training that is designed to save someones life. What if I fail to teach her something that she needs in a dire situation? What if I am too soft on her and she remains weaker than her opponents.

No, that won't happen.

You will be hard on her, you will show no remorse, you won't feel bad. She is not your friend, she is your sergeant. I repeat this to myself in my head as we gather our trays and walk to the table. I ate in silence, paying little attention to the conversation. Gaz and Alejandro had joined us at this point. I stared down at the plate in front of me. The bacon here is nasty.

I wanted to leave. I hated it with Y/N here.

Its not that I don't like her, well actually maybe that is partially why.

But, when I look at her, its like seeing a child. Something that needs to be looked after, someone with a lot to learn, someone who isn't ready to face the world.

I stood up to leave without a word. I head towards the gym to get in a quick lift before the morning briefing.

"Simon!"

Soap had followed me

"Fucking hell" I said under my breath.

"You cant be a jackass to her forever," Johnny said, jogging to catch up with me.

"Until I can safely befriend her without having to worry about having to identify her body a week later I will be," I huffed.

"Simon, I know it hit you like a truck when Henry Jones, and Bill Anderson died, I know how you get when you hear about the death of anyone," he tried to reason.

"I know you always think it's your fault when something goes wrong. I know you want to protect everyone, and I know you don't mean to be an asshole." I looked at him from the corner of my eye.

"But not everyone else knows that," he continued. "Your colleagues are afraid of you. They think you're heartless. I know you aren't, the rest of the squad knows you aren't, well except Y/N.

Him and I walked the rest of the way in silence. I contemplated his words.

Your colleagues are afraid of you

"I don't want her to be afraid."

"Hm?" Soap turned his head

"Y/N, I don't want her to be afraid of me," I confirmed

"The mask sure isn't helping," Soap joked to break the tension. "Actually, keep it on- whats underneath is worse," he snickered.

"You bastard, I'm not ugly," I cracked a smile from beneath said mask.

Johnny has seen my face once, on a mission. I was sucker punched and it cracked.

"What does she think of me?" I say, curiosity besting me.

"She thinks you're a total dick."

"figured"

"You can fix that though," Soap said "It's pretty simple, maybe instead of beating the shit out of her to start training, you could ask how her day is going." He sarcastically adds

I roll my eyes, "I'm capable of friendship."

Soap laughs, "I'll put in a good word for you LT."

Smiling and shaking my head, I walk away.

[hanzajesthanza]

regis didn’t die because “he got drunk,” he died because he abandoned his principles.

regis swearing at stygga and vowing to “fuck this castle up” is not only disturbing for what it is, and who he is, but also because of who he is in the company.

it truly is the “i’m a healer, but…” meme, because regis is the voice of reason, moderation, and logic, advising geralt away from hasty decisions. he’s a self-reported coward and afraid of violence, and you know, he’s the doctor.

it’s not just his abandonment of his principle to not drink, but the abandonment of ALL of his principles—patience, rationality, goodwill, optimism—is what kills him.

this discarding of principles happens in the scene where he returns to the rest of the company and sees milva’s dead body, where he says he feels such strength to fuck up this entire castle.

this hasty, violent cursing of his comes before the scene with vilgefortz—it foreshadows his death owing to his hasty, violent attack of vilgefortz. it didn’t just come out of nowhere that he made a terrible decision. (i mean, his first terrible decision was to follow geralt in the first place but, eh.)

it’s not just because “he had been drinking”—the drinking is more of a side effect rather than a cause... (and “one should treat the cause, and not its symptoms…”)

since, to our knowledge, he had one drink before returning to see milva dead, and during that time seemed to be, more or less, regis as he was—he even cracks jokes to ciri before he realizes, ‘wait, maybe i scared her’—it is when he returns and has seen, is processing, milva dead, that he makes this suspiciously unhinged, out of character statement about “i feel such strength inside me,” “i could fuck up this entire castle.”

sure, he could have had a couple more drinks between these two scenes that sapkowski did just not deign to write of, but even if he had been totally plastered, i don’t think that that solely is what causes his downfall, his out of character viciousness and hastiness. remember that alcoholism is an addiction, and addictions re-emerge when one is faced with despair, loss, grief… and hopelessness. (and with blood already on his lips from the laboratory, it became that much easier to give in when having to confront this tragedy—the coping mechanism was already right back in his hands)

the hopelessness of losing milva at the portico of stygga castle broke them all, before they even went inside. and this death broke regis as we knew him, as the company’s optimist.

seeing milva dead was the death of his principles, his virtues, what he worked so hard for such a long time to hold himself to. because these principles became as worthless as his surgeon’s tools—in this citadel of death, there’s nothing you can do to save life, to preserve it, as he had done prior:

after her miscarriage, although they stayed in the lyrian-rivian corps of meve for five or six days, they had deserted—and deserted the barber-surgeons in that corps—in less than a week. consider then that it became once again, regis’ responsibility, as the company’s barber-surgeon and sole healer, to care for milva as she recuperated.

though dandelion notes she did so quickly as she was a hale and strong woman and her troubles were mostly emotional, one must consider the responsibility that not only a friend feels for his friend’s life, but how a doctor feels for his patient’s life.

and how he feels when that life heals slowly, recuperates with difficulty, suffers more (broken ribs) but continues to heal under care, finally becomes strong again and, like her namesake, a bird, released with pride into the air—only to be shot down immediately, glassy-eyed in her own blood.

milva for regis was a symbol of preserving life (indeed, an interesting symbol, as she suffers miscarriage). and between them, it was also, of course, a complete inversion of the mythology surrounding vampires and pregnant women.

but at stygga, she dies so immediately, so violently:

… and from something… something as inconsequential as any old bit of wood…

what kind of cruelty is it for life to be ripped away so quickly, by something so small, with no chance of saving? of healing?

but it’s nothing, because this is stygga castle. where healing becomes unusable. useless.

so regis leaves his healing at the doorstep—literally, upon the portico, where milva’s body was dragged back to by geralt and cahir, bleeding out in a dark pool.

and along with healing… his patience, moderation, mercy, kindness, wisdom… all of his virtues.

their virtues. the company’s virtues. since regis embodied this rationalist and optimist side of the company, when he abandons these principles of his, the entire company loses them;

because now, there is no one to advise them to “proceed slowly and with due prudence.” now, there is no one to placatingly say, “come, come, let there be concord.” now, there is no one to say, “of course we can, it is simply a matter of invention and positive thinking!”

the voice of reason has left us, he flew off on bat’s wings without a murmur or a whistle. now the voice only says — “i will fuck up this entire castle.”

i don’t think at stygga, in this scene and the one with vilgefortz, we’re seeing just a “regis, but drunk”. it’s deeper than that… because it’s not just his sobriety he broke, he broke everything—broken and shattered, like the collection of glass vials and flasks he shattered in his dramatic entrance to vilgefortz’s laboratory, exploding, bursting one after another. and from this erupts a hellish inferno of corpse-blue flames.

it’s not just “regis, but drunk” it’s “regis, but without patience, wisdom, kindness… etc…”

that’s why he’s so unlike the regis we’ve come to know during the series, why he at stygga becomes so unrecognizable to the readers—because he’s thrown away all of his beloved virtues that he strived to embody. and because “everybody has their good points, to even out the vices,” he became unbalanced, with his vices leading him. namely, his hubris, which often came out in a much more modest way during the rest of the saga—in a scholarly and lecturing tone of voice—but at stygga, comes out as an arrogant threat that he and he alone can and will fuck up this entire castle, an overconfident leap at vilgefortz’s throat.

and in my interpretation, it’s also not accurate to look at it like “this was actually the true regis,” “this was regis underneath it all,” because it’s not “how he was back then,” it’s not like he went back in time to be his past self. it’s not a reverting.

it’s more like coming full circle, for it’s milva’s death which triggers him to discard his principles, and he only got to know milva through his upholding of these principles. his actions towards her (namely his midwifery) showcase some of the best of what he became, owing to these principles of his.

and her presence, or rather the loss of her, makes him realize that all of his goodness is in vain and will be of no help here. and that is when a great hopelessness consumes him, and he throws out his goodness with a cold clatter to the ground—what use was any of this, after all? i cannot save her with medicine, i cannot save her with my principles, it all turned out to be useless.

and we’ve seen something like this already in the saga—it’s much like when ciri is in the korath desert and begins to think, everyone has abandoned me, the morality and ethics they taught me are utterly useless. and it takes her being in korath for her to get there, to break her spirit. the seed of this may have been planted in her at cintra, but her contempt didn’t fully erupt until after she had tasted the love, mercy, and kindness of geralt and yennefer’s parentage and saving of her—and then was suddenly deprived of it.

similarly, regis had a terrible youth, and yes, when he’s giving up his principles here, he’s returning to a similar state—but it’s not the same as if he had never experienced the entire arc following his rebirth into human life. it’s not a return to his youth, it’s more like… hm… a mid-life crisis? hah…

a metaphor of day and night is apt!

he’s not “reverting” at stygga—it’s like how dawn and dusk, though they are at similar light levels, are not the same thing, because they have the entire daytime inbetween them!

the sun sets with his discarding of principles, and we return to night… a cold, sinister, menacing, darkness. back to the realm of the vampire, not the human:

because he, the company, is suddenly deprived of their archer, who, just remember, they worked so hard to save on the battle of the bridge, milva, whom regis rushed towards and carried on his back, staying with her during her miscarriage.

and now, she’s utterly dead in such a violent manner, and actually, the arrow pierced her lower abdomen, possibly where her womb would be: “struck [her] low in the belly (…) having shattered her pelvis (…)” for the ultimate symbolism for her character.

and suddenly with her death, regis realizes how useless he is, to them, here, as a surgeon. he cannot save milva now like he did under the bridge. he can’t help, save any of them. he’s powerless.

and if not a surgeon, their surgeon, who is he?

and if not wise, patient, cautious, kind, gentle? if not always knowing what to do, ‘in his infinite wisdom,’ in his ‘omniscience’? if not humanity? what is left of emiel regis? what is left?

blood.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Drowning of Sorrows

Hi, I love your Merlin fics! I love how you set up Gwaine and Leon’s relationship in Worth. Could we please have something where Gwaine is the one dealing with self doubt and Leon is the one comforting him?

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: leon/gwaine

Word Count: 2918

It would surprise most people, Gwaine knows, that he does not choose to drown his sorrows in spirits and bedfellows. Perhaps that in and of itself plays no small part in his current wallowing. Nevertheless, he adjusts the small bag hanging over his shoulder and continues to walk.

The woods are quiet so early in the morning. A few deer have stopped in their grazing as he wanders past, looking at him curiously, large brown eyes lingering on his form for a scarce few seconds before returning to their breakfast. Birds call out to one another. Rabbits dart about and scamper back and forth, leaves rustling. He has a fleeting thought that dashes away with one as it flops its ear at him and continues to make his way along the crest of a small hill. He steps over a large mossy log and heads down toward the river.

There is a single flat rock overlooking one of the wider sections. He eases his weight down, propping his boots against another rock, reaching into the bag for the small roll of bread he'd packed earlier. One of the nice ladies in the kitchen, Malwen, had given it to him shortly before he left. He recalls her expression, sweet and knowing as she pushed it into his hands, and allows himself a small smile. She, he knows, would not be surprised to know how he drowned his sorrows.

Perhaps that makes her unique.

He sighs, putting the remainder of the roll away and letting his head hang. There is no audience here in the woods, save for the creatures that go about their lives here. They don't know his reputation, they don't know his performance, they only know him as the strange and somewhat bumbling two-legged that sometimes comes to sit by the river. He thinks he might prefer to be the strange two-legged for a while. Not Gwaine.

Gwaine was an incorrigible flirt, an amusing drunk. Gwaine was the butt of the joke for the Knights of Camelot, the irritating and only somewhat endearing fool that caused just as much trouble as he helped solve. Gwaine was the one with the wandering hands and wandering eyes who could never understand something like feelings or sacrifice or hardship.

Gwaine is…tired. He's so very tired.

He hears a crunch behind him and just as quick he's on his feet, reaching for the small dagger at his hip, only to nearly stumble into the river.

Leon. Of fucking course it's Leon.

Leon was not the butt of the jokes, and if he ever was, it was because he allowed himself to be. Leon was the perfect fucking knight, Camelot's First Knight, the closest to the King and the most beloved by the realm. He couldn't even say a bad word about Leon, not outside of the petty comments that he only made because he was the troublemaker and Leon was the fucking perfect one.

And here, as he stands with his armor and his red cape flowing resplendently in the breeze, looking at Gwaine with what could only be thinly-veiled disappointment, Gwaine feels his sorrows curdle in his gut as he plasters a smile across his aching face.

"Leon! Come to join me in my wanderings this morning? Never thought I'd see the day where you'd venture into the woods without a patrol and a horse."

"I've noticed your absences from early morning training. Figured I'd come see who was keeping you."

The words, spoken not to be cruel, hit him all the same, piercing his chest and landing frigidly in his gut. Still, he shakes his head and winks. "Come to catch me in the act, eh? Didn't take you for the sort of man that likes to watch."

Leon doesn't reply, just tilts his head. Gwaine can feel the smile beginning to fade and rushes to affix it back in place.

"Well, I'm afraid you've not gotten lucky today, my friend. I'm the only one here this fine morning." The smile turns sharp. "Unless, of course, you've come for another reason too?"

"I'm not here to engage in a woodland tryst with you, Gwaine."

"Mm. Pity. We could've had such fun."

Leon just rolls his eyes, glancing around. Memorizing the location, probably, which means Gwaine will have to find another place to go to cope with his sorrows. He feels no small regret that he would no longer be able to come back here, the breeze doesn't come too harshly around the bend in the river, the rocks are never damp, the hill provides good cover from the back…

But he comes here to be himself, and he couldn't do that if any knight from Camelot could just so happen to stumble in after him.

"Well," he sighs, dusting himself off with feigned nonchalance, "we'd best be getting back, then. No use in the both of us missing training if we're not going to be having any fun doing it."

Do you know the other thing Gwaine can't help but resent about Leon? The man has an unerring capability of finding out the truth.

"What troubles you, Gwaine?"

Fuck. "Me? Well, currently, I'm slaving away at my disappointment, but—"

"Gwaine."

"What? Can you imagine something so awful as to expect that—" this time, Leon cuts him off with only a look and he sighs. "It's nothing so awful it won't keep me from training."

"It's managed to do so for a few weeks now."

See? If he weren't on the receiving end of it—and not even the fun sort, the facade snorts—he would be impressed. Right now, he just shuffles and tries to disguise it by fiddling with the strap over his shoulder. "A man has to satisfy his wanderlust somehow, you know. Settling down in Camelot isn't how I saw my life going."

"Nothing keeps you here."

His head snaps up. "What?"

Leon just looks at him strangely. "Nothing keeps you tied to Camelot. If your wanderlust is so insatiable, you could chase it once more."

Is…is Leon telling him to leave? It's a remarkably cruel joke, especially for him, and he's left so open and unguarded by it that he doesn't have time to realize his pain is written all over his face. "Well—I—what's that supposed to mean?"

"Precisely that. If being a knight is not where you see yourself, then perhaps it would be better if you sought your life elsewhere."

A lump grows in his throat. It grows and grows and grows until all he can do is nod and stuff another hunk of bread in his mouth, because Gwaine is the knight constantly obsessed with food and it saves him from trying to figure out what the appropriate thing is to say to that. Leon turns, cape fluttering elegantly in the wind, and he stomps after him back to Camelot.

After that, it's hard not to take the jokes personally. His incompetence, his overconfidence, his brashness, his lack of grace and decorum. He's never begrudged himself for not learning the politics and manners of court, but as the laughs strike him with all the fury of loosed arrows, he wishes that maybe, just maybe, there was something he could actually do that they wouldn't laugh at him for. But he's Gwaine, so he smiles and laughs and jokes right back, trying to think of somewhere else he can go to manage his sorrows.

He can't leave Camelot. He won't leave Camelot. Despite what Leon might think, there are things keeping him here, but he won't tell them what they are. Not when it would only lead to more jokes.

But his luck is not to last, it seems, when he comes down the front steps one morning to see Leon returning from some errand. He stops, offering a modest nod, and Gwaine nods back.

"What wakes you so early this morning?"

He thinks about making a joke, but he shakes himself out of it. "An obligation."

"Do you require assistance?"

"No, but thank you for offering."

Leon looks at him a moment longer before nodding and sweeping off to somewhere else. Gwaine shoulders the large bag and begins to walk down the streets, smiling and greeting the bakers and the merchants and the other early risers. He rounds the corner to the broken cobblestones and sets down the bag, whistling.

In a moment, the hoard of kids scurry from the abandoned barn and surround him, plying him for stories, to tell him their own, to sit in his lap, to be carried just for a second. It breaks his heart when the littlest one, Celeste, holds her arms up with tear stains still fresh on her cheeks. Nightmare, the others mumble, and he pulls her into his lap, wiping her tears and bouncing her up and down until she giggles. He shares the food and the few stories he's made up since the last time he saw them, laughing as they try to act out what he's saying as he tells it. They try to get him to stay for longer, but he can't. Not when he just saw a red cape fluttering out of sight just down the street.

He manages to make it back to the citadel before whirling on Leon.

"I don't care if you stick your nose into my business," he says, voice low and stern, "but do not interfere with theirs. Are we understood?"

"Are they yours?"

Gwaine sees red. He just barely restrains himself from punching Camelot's First Knight and instead grits his teeth. "Are you so small-minded that you believe me capable of showing affection only to children that are mine, or is it that you think I cannot stop myself from fathering bastards left and right? Huh? Is that all I am to you?"

"I didn't—"

"Or are you trying to figure out what it is keeping me here when it's obvious that no one wants me here?" It's the first time he's seen the unflappable Leon look anything other than sure of himself. "Well?"

"Gwaine, you need to calm down."

"No, I don't! I do not need to calm down when I've just been followed like a common thief and accused of subjecting countless women to the pain of childbirth without offering them the proper support a father should. I do not need to calm down when the lives and well-being of innocent children has been threatened, and I do not need to calm down just because you said I have to!"

He's shouting, he knows. He's finding it very hard to care. He'll suffer the ding to his reputation—not that it matters much more anyway—as he whirls on his heel, storming off. He hears the murmurs and the whispers and he lets them harden into armor, his boots thumping on the stone. He throws open the door to his chambers, tossing his empty bag aside and all but sulking on his bed.

He'll regret it later. He'll have to apologize later. He'll suffer for it later. But for now, he'll pout and sulk and throw his tantrum and try and figure out how to put his heart back in his chest.

There's a quiet knock on his door.

He doesn't acknowledge it, but then there's a creak of the hinges and the flutter of fabric and he's not ready yet, he's not ready for it, he can't do this yet—

"I know I may be the last person you wish to see right now," Leon says, "but I can't leave you like this."

"You can."

"No," he says, just as softly, as he approaches the bed, "I cannot. Not when I owe you such an apology."

Gwaine glares at him from under his lashes and sighs, resigning himself to a shitty apology that will turn into a lecture where he'll have to make his own apology. He is not prepared, then, for Leon to sink to his knees in front of him.

"What—?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for following you, into the woods and into the city." He takes his hands and holds them tight. "I'm sorry for all of it, my friend, I didn't mean to upset you so."

He swallows. "Why did you follow me?"

"I was worried."

"Worried I would find some way to sneak away from my responsibilities?" he can't help but spit.

"Worried because you were upset and you weren't coming to any of us, not even Merlin."

Gwaine blinks. Then he blinks again. "You—you what?"

Leon's face falls even further, if such a thing is possible. "Gwaine, you've been quiet for months. You haven't been going to the tavern, you've not joined us for a drink in our chambers, you've not even gone on your walks with Merlin—don't look at me like that, he's been trying to get you to tell him what's wrong too—Gwaine, even Arthur's worried."

"…he is?"

Leon nods. "So I thought to follow you, just to see if you were alright, but you—I fear I just made things worse, and then this morning, you were—you looked so afraid, I—"

"I looked afraid?"

"Yes. Like you were about to be hurt, and I didn't realize that it was me that would hurt you until I…did."

Gwaine sighs. He takes his hands slowly back from Leon's and pinches the bridge of his nose. "None of those children are mine. They're just street kids who can't get by when there's not harvests going around to share. I help them out."

"Of course you do," but it's said softly, not in a mocking way, "you're the kindest of all of us. I'm sorry I accused you."

"Is that truly what everyone thinks of me? That I'm such a brute that I could father a dozen bastards with no regrets or remorse?"

"No, Gwaine, that's not—"

He curses Leon's perceptiveness. He curses himself for being so easy to read.

"Oh, my friend," he murmurs, reaching up and brushing Gwaine's hair back from his face, "we've been cruel to you, haven't we? With the jokes at your expense, with all of it…why didn't you tell us that we were hurting you?"

He chokes out a laugh. "What good would it have done?"

"What good—we would've stopped! We wouldn't have kept up with them if we'd known how hurt you were by it, we are your friends, your brothers, we wouldn't have done something if we knew that it would be causing you pain."

Gwaine gets up. He has to get up, has to walk over to the table, has to brace his hands on the edge and bow his head. He can't do this right now, he can't. Leon will flay him here. He'll be so exposed, so raw, so stripped of everything he's let Camelot know about Gwaine that he's not sure he'll ever recover.

But he doesn't get what he wants.

Or rather, he gets exactly what he wants but would never have the courage to ask for.

He lets out a wounded noise when arms wrap around his waist, a head resting heavily on his shoulder. His knees threaten to buckle as warm breath puffs across his cheek.

"I'm sorry," Leon whispers and Gwaine shakes his head furiously, "forgive me, forgive me…"

"Stop," he croaks, "you have to stop."

Leon pulls away a little, but doesn't let go. "Why must I stop? Let me comfort you."

"You don't want that."

"Why don't I want that?"

"Because I'll—I'm not—I'm not what you think," he manages, he's going to cry at this rate, "I'm not just some lecherous bastard that sleeps with whomever catches my eye, I'm not some stupid man-thing that can just bounce back so easily when I'm hurt, I can't—I won't be able to just forget this."

It's the closest he'll let himself get to saying it. Leon is quiet for a long moment before there is a hand on his shoulder, turning him around, and he's being pulled into his first proper embrace since—since—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

"Forgive me," Leon whispers, voice curling gently around his ear, "forgive me, forgive me…"

"Leon—"

"I'm not going to forget, Gwaine, I'm not going to assume, not anymore…I'm going to try and keep you, don't you see?"

"Keep me? You want—you'd want to keep me?"

"Is that not what I have been trying to do all along?"

"But you—but you're—I'm not—I can't—"

"You can," he interrupts softly, holding him closer as though he were the most precious thing in the world, and his head spins, "you can let me keep you. You can come to me when you need to, you can—you can let me help you.'

"Why?"

"Oh, Gwaine, have I not made that obvious by now? I care, not because you are a knight, but because you are you. Do not deprive me of the pleasure of caring for you, please, I couldn't stand it."

Gwaine can't stand either. Not when Leon is holding him so tenderly and telling him such sweet things. He falls to the floor, held fast in Leon's embrace, wrapping his arms just as tightly. Leon doesn't balk, doesn't pull away, doesn't tease, just holds him.

He drowns his sorrows in Leon's chest and thinks that maybe…maybe this could be better now.

[licorice-tea]

I’m A Ghost Of You, You’re A Ghost Of Me Pt. 2

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader, platonic Straw Hat Pirates & reader

Content: slow burn, canon typical violence (nobody actually gets hurt), throwing darts (just for fun), mentions of a g*n (no shooting), reader shoots an arrow from a bow (no one is harmed), reader has special skills typical of a one piece character, bars, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This one is kind of long and there isn’t much reader x zoro in it, we’re still building up to that lol. There is a mention of him and his relationship to the reader at the end of this chapter though! Oh, and since Usopp is a sniper, but so is y/n (just different weapons) I’ve made it so Usopp’s thing/weapon of choice is his inventions instead! It won’t change the story much at all, but I didn’t want to make it so there are 2 people with the same fighting style on the crew once the reader joins. One last thing- this takes place after the crew has taken down Arlong Park- their next destination is Reverse Mountain, but they just so happened to meet the reader on an island first.

Part 1 • Part 3

Monkey D. Luffy had charmed you from the moment you met him- and vice versa. The two of you, though you had very different backgrounds and aspirations, were both young, free souls with big dreams. He had just begun assembling his crew that would ultimately help him achieve his goal of becoming King of the Pirates. So far, the future king had recruited a swordsman and a navigator. Or at least, that’s what he told you when he found you; in a bar on one of the smaller islands of the East Blue.

It was a quiet day, and the bar was empty save for you and the bartender. You weren’t much of a drinker, but the heat was intense and the bar offered shade and a place to relax. So while the few patrons of the bar drank, you took to playing darts. Alone.

You hold the dart in your right hand with your left arm outstretched as if to focus your aim; poised to throw. Then after a few back and forth movements of your hand- as if to determine the path the dart would take once you let it go- you exhale softly and do just that. The dart flies in a near straight line, only falling slightly at the end of its arc to hit the dead center of the dart board.

With a small smile you hum to yourself and pick up another dart from a box nearby. You don’t even really aim this time though, just steady your hand and repeat those back and forth motions before throwing. This time, you use more force, and the second dart splits the first.

One of the few others in the bar, a tall and burly man in a marine uniform, approaches you after the 4th dart has split 3 others. He puts an arm on your shoulder, and gives you a scrutinizing sort of look as he sizes you up.

“You shoot, kid?”

“Yeah, a bow.��

“Ever thought about being a marine?”

You shrug off his hand, “No, thank you.”

He steps closer, “Oh, so you think you’re too good for us? Wont take orders cause you’re the best, right?” You can smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Sure, something like that.” You respond sarcastically while taking a step back. You’re not one to go looking for a fight, but he’s clearly trying to challenge or test you. Sigh, marines and their pride.

He huffs, then turns to leave and spits in the spittoon by the bar doors. The marine looks back over his shoulder and points at you. “Meet me outside when you’re ready to put your money where your mouth is, kid.”

You simply roll your eyes and take a seat at the bar, as you’re no longer in the mood for playing darts. The bartend comes around to your side to take your order.

“A shirley temple, please.”

He gives you a deadpan look, and when you don’t quirk a smile or admit to it being a joke, he full on laughs at you.

“You’re gonna run from that marine on nothing but a shirley temple, huh kid?”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s still waiting for you outside, no doubt about it. I hope you’re fast.”

You frown and rest your head in your chin, thinking of how you were going to get out of this mess.

Sometime between your confrontation with the drunk marine and your conversation with the bartend, a new group came in. You hadn’t noticed earlier, but you did now as they were clearly watching you. They must have been listening to everything go down, too, based on their expressions.

The bartend leaves your end to go take this new groups orders before eventually coming back to make your drink.

“…I’m not running from anything.” is the answer you settle on as he slides you the bright red shirley temple.

“Sure thing.”

You pull out a few berries from your pocket, but before you can slide them over he waves you off.

The bartend nods his chin to the new group of people, who you realize are still not so subtly staring and talking about you. “Those guys paid for your drink.”

They sure are an interesting bunch. There’s a boy with a straw hat, a girl with orange hair, one man with curly brows and another with a long nose. And they’re just looking at you, mostly (with the exception of the blonde with curly eyebrows, who is giggling with literal hearts in his eyes.)

You nod to the group as a way of saying “thanks”, but you’re not sure if you should approach them… Fortunately, the boy with the straw hat makes that decision for you when he gets up and comes to stand by you.

“Hey!”

“Hi?” You offer a friendly smile, but it’s nothing compared to his huge grin.

“My name is Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m gonna be King of The Pirates!”

All you do is hum in acceptance of his grand statement, “Well, I’m l/n y/n.” You extend a hand to shake, “Nice to meet you.”

“You’ve gotta go fight that marine!” the boy exclaims. He holds his hands in fists, completely ignoring your handshake in favor of making punching motions.

“I- No, I can’t.”

“Why not? You can beat him- I saw you throwing darts!”

“Well, sure, but I don’t want my bounty going up or anything… I’m not looking for trouble, really.” You laugh nervously.

“Psh! He insulted your bravery! And having a bounty is coo-“ He’s cut off by the girl with orange hair who slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry about him. I’m Nami… and you’re some kind of sharpshooter, right?”

You nod as you look between the two of them, then at the rest of their friends who were sitting on the other end of the bar but are now also making their way over.

“Well, y/n was it? I think what Luffy was trying to say-“ she then glares at Luffy, “before he almost outed us as pirates when a marine is outside- is that he’d really like to see more of what you can do.”

“Um… why? I’m not trying to be rude or anything, I just-“

“I want you to join my crew!”

You blink, shocked. “And why would you need me?” you say with a somewhat surprised laugh.

“I want a sharpshooter on my crew, and you have the best aim I’ve ever seen!” He says everything with such excitement, and you like it.

“Really? I’m a good shot, I don’t know about the best…” you giggle. “I’m not even a sharpshooter, I’m a painter; I just do this for fun.”

As you had explained: you didn’t really consider yourself a full blown archer. More like an artist who happened to have a talent for archery, and would use a bow and arrow as a means of protection. It was how you survived; not your dream.

Of course, being an artist whose work is known all throughout the world is a grand and respectable dream all on its own. You knew that- even if others had labeled you foolish or unserious for your passion. Sure, art wasn’t something dangerous that could earn you tons of glory, or even a career with a guarantee of money. But, that didn’t matter to you, because it was what you loved most in life. And, you had become enamored with the idea of beauty for beauty’s sake through many arguments with your parents over the purpose and need for art (beyond being a hobby.) You still doubted yourself occasionally, but the backlash somehow made it easier to believe in yourself when your confidence ran low.

That was over a year ago now, and you’d been making a name for yourself as a painter. You liked to travel between islands to find inspiration in a variety of places and people, but you got by just fine with the berries from selling your work. It was nice, having the freedom to do what you loved most… but this was your chance to follow your dream to someday be a master of the arts. And you felt in some odd way, that this small crew led by a boy no older than yourself; they were a part of that future.

“Ohhh, so that’s your dream then? Perfect! All of the Straw Hat Pirates have dreams!”

“The Straw Hat Pirates? So, you’re the captain then?” You can’t help but smile up at the boy with the Straw Hat. And it makes close to no sense at all, but you have a really good feeling about him- about all of them.

“Yep! Join us, cmon!”

“I… Um…” It’s not like you were really tied down at all. And how often did you meet people like these, who made you feel safe and appreciated even though you had just met?

Well, you did remember one time. But that was over a year ago, and you hadn’t heard from him since.

Nami shakes her head at Luffy once again, “Give them some time to think, would you! Not everyone can just run off with a pirate crew.”

Then, one of the other two crew members who had joined in on the conversation speaks up. “So… are you going to go fight that marine?” says the man with the long nose. “Oh, I’m Usopp by the way.” He gives a friendly wave.

The blonde responds for you; “They don’t have to do anything they don’t want to.” His eyes return from Usopp to you, and the hearts seem to reappear. “And I’m Sanji, it’s really a pleasure to meet you!” He takes one of your hands and shakes it with both of his.

You giggle and shake your head. “No, it’s ok.” You drain the last bit of your shirley temple, then stand up from your barstool. “I’ll do it.”

There are mixed reactions after the initial surprise from the whole crew- minus Luffy, he seems like he knew you would. But once the rest lose their shocked expressions Nami and Usopp both try to talk you out of it while Sanji cheers you on. Luffy simply crosses his arms and nods with a grin, and they all follow you out of the bar.

“But- but wait! You really don’t have to, this will just cause trouble!” Usopp tries to reason with you.

You shake your head, “It’s ok, he’s probably not even here anymore.”

And sure enough when you walk out onto the street, it’s nearly empty. No marines in sight- until you hear him.

“Hey, kid!” The voice comes from further down the street behind you, and you and all the Straw Hat Pirates turn to see who it belong to. Sure enough, there’s the marine- he seems to have sobered up a little, or enough that he’s not slurring his words or stumbling anymore.

As if this were some old western movie, you rest a hand on the bow slung over your shoulder. “Nevermind then. Can you give me a little space guys?” The Straw Hats back away and watch as the marine hurries toward you, stopping about 10 paces away.

“Here to defend your honor, huh?”

“No, that’s silly. I’m here because you interrupted my game of darts.”

He scowls and draws his own weapon- a standard marine issued firearm, by the looks of it.

Before he can even load it or cock it or- whatever they do with guns, how would you know? You draw your bow and knock back a single arrow, but with great force. It hits the barrel of the gun, fully bending it away from the direction your arrow hit it.

The marine, the Straw Hats, and even yourself (though you felt too confident to look surprised) were shocked. For a single arrow to dent the barrel of a gun? Well, you must be one hell of an archer. Yet it was “just a hobby” as you told your new crewmates, and so they were all excited to see the prowess you would exemplify over your actual dream.

He takes two cautionary steps backwards first, then the marine turns and full on sprints away. The Straw Hats all laugh, cheer, and pat you on the back while asking how in the world you did that. You weren’t entirely sure yourself, but were still content with the outcome of the day.

“So now you’ll be part of my crew, right?”

“Yes!” You laugh, “I’d love to.”

You explain to your new crew, or nakama as Luffy calls you, that you just have to go get your bag from the inn you’re currently staying in. The five of you meet back at the docks of the island just a few minutes before sunset, and they show you to their boat; the Going Merry.

But before any of you can begin to board the vessel, Luffy stops and exclaims, “Aw man, where’s Zoro?”

You whip your head around to face Luffy. Did he say Zoro? As in, Roronoa Zoro- the bounty hunter who’d led you get away a year ago to follow your dream? The man you still felt you owed your future to, for what he had done for you…

“Probably lost. Again.” Usopp sighs.

“Sorry, did you say Zoro?”

“Yep, he’s our swordsman!”

You have no words, so you just hum in response. What were the chances of joining the same crew as your… savior? Ally? Friend? The definition of your relationship was not at all set in stone, so you can only rely on what is tangible for now; the growing smile on your lips, and the faster beating of your heart.

Maybe you would get the chance to repay him after all.

[little-forest-goblin]

Hey guys so a did a recent post about the diner deli scene and the different variations of five there and i had listed all of the ones i can put a name on (its all a personal opinion my word is not law) and we all know that they have some odd subtle differences between each other though they still may be five they are still from other universes and timelines and not one five is gonna be the same completely. So i decided to list and give them the personalties and such that i can (Again my word is now law please by all means make whatever you want this is just personal opinion and thought)

So here is the list of the fives that i had personally named.

1. Booth five

2. waiter five

3. brisket five

4. Newspaper/good with numbers five

5. Mathematician/journaling/theorist five (There is three cause if i remember correctly there is two fives and i just know one of them is obsessing over numbers and i was wondering what the other one is doing and thats what i got)

6. Anxious antsy/waiting five

7. Drunk five

8. Loose neck tie five

9. chef five

Those are the ones i could put a name too. Some of them i have no clue what to call them but if you have a suggestion or an idea please let me know.

1. Booth five

Booth five is probably a funny laid back guy who is just wanting to chill after having tried and failed so many times to save the world and his family only to have it blow up in his face time and time again. He is mostly unintentionally funny it seems. He wont get why what he said is funny at first but once he does he will probably laugh it off with you or give a playful eyeroll.

2. waiter five

Waiter five looks like he would be that person in the friend group who is always mothering the group. Attentive and caring can be serious when need be but for the most part also pretty laid back and not really a stick in the mud.

3. Brisket five

You cant tell me he wouldn’t be a sweetheart. He looks like he would be making small talk and smiling and cracking a couple jokes here and there and just overall you would be comfortable around him. He is probably one of the fives that the others go to vent or just need something to take their mind off of whatever they got going on. There’s that and let’s not forget he apparently wrecks shit sometimes as confirmed by booth five.

4. Newspaper/good with numbers five

Newspaper five has always newspaper always in hand whether it be old news or new news he has one nearby or in hand. This is also helping him with his good with numbers part. He is just uncannily good with numbers obviously having been shown in the scene where he tells the amount of times they tried to save the world. He is basically that scene from criminal minds where Spencer Reid gets the guess right for how many boats are on lake mead. He knows random info and facts and when engaged in conversation he is a fact and info dumper.

5. mathematician/journalist/theorist five

-mathematician five is somewhere writing in his notebook with equations and numbers all probably trying to find a possibility for any possible safe timeline that isn’t gonna go to shit. He could also just really like numbers.

-Journalist/diary five is always writing in his notebook about his days there at the deli/diner. he can recap anything that has happened from the start of when he arrived there and more then likely has a log of all the fives that have arrived and whether they have stayed or went off to try and save the world and the family again.

- theorist five i believe is a variation of five that had driven himself crazy with possibilities and theories whether it be about the apocalypse and saving his family or it might be over something small and insignificant. sometimes this can spiral and cause outbursts of panic and rage or straight up mental breakdowns. His notebook is filled with possibility after possibility. Theory after theory. Some of the pages are random scribbles and writings and if you sit close to him you can hear him muttering to himself about the writings. His hair is also probably a little greasier than others considering his obsessive behavior with writing theories but he isn’t unclean.

6. anxious ansty/waiting five

Anxious ansty five seems to be on edge a lot. All the trauma he has gone through has finally bled through and has made him anxious or antsy. He can be seen with his hands always fidgeting or chewing on a random object like a pen or the tip of his straw to try and silence the anxious thoughts even for just a minute. He may be seen waiting for his order at the counter but he isn’t always waiting for that he can be seen waiting anxiously for some kinda ball to drop and everything to go to shit. He is probably more than likely a paranoid person.

7. Drunk five

Drunk five is quite self explanatory. It’s a variation of five that is drunk but when you think about it. Why was he called drunk five in the first place? why wasnt he called something else kinda like how newspaper/good with numbers five is or theorist five is? its cause he is more then likely always drunk meaning this variation of five is probably the one filled and consumed by regret and grief and sadness and has given up completely. Not all variations of five are happy or composed and this is one of them. He has done so much, seen so much and has dealt with so much to where he drinks to forget and drinks to have a good time. When you approach him you can get a few different emotions whether it be a sad drunk one day or a cracking jokes and making drunk conversation. He is more then likely the one getting into some form of trouble (as seen with S3 where five makes boozy cereal or does random stupid things) he may not always be sad but deep down we know why he drinks.

8. Loose neck tie five

People may argue and say that this is drunk five but if memory serves me right drunk five was off doing something stupid and this one is just hanging out by the door. Now i don’t quite know what personality to give this one since its just a loose neck tie and doesn’t really correspond with personality other then maybe being tired or exhausted or being disheveled in the first place. He may be a five that is a little less organized and put together. I will leave this one up to y’all.

9. Chef five

Not be confused with brisket five cause yes brisket five i guess technically would be a chef considering he is making food but brisket five is called brisket five for a reason. Chef five is the other five behind the counter. If you look at the picture you can see a five eating a soup meaning there probably isn’t just sandwiches here in the diner/deli. Chef five can always be seen hard at work cooking and probably trying out new recipes or making new ones too.

There we have it folks my personal opinions on the five variations in this weird five verse. I hope yall have fun and if you have ideas and different names for some of them put it in comments and i made add them to a list or something who knows what i might do.