#and I will continue thinking about it even though it's probably not significant at all
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sunday morning snippet!! it's 12AM so it counts for sunday!!
“My mum would have a fit,” Sirius said sort out of nowhere.
He was listening, he was. But then his mind had half-drifted off, thinking of conversations at dinner tables where he was forced to wear the dress robes with the too-tight collars and well, okay, maybe Sirius had lost track of all of the words a little while ago.
Remus stopped reading aloud immediately, looking up. “What?” he asked, lacking his usual irritation when interrupted.
Remus wore a rarely open expression. One that drove Sirius to continue, saying something he otherwise might not have. Maybe if the sun was in a different position or if it was a Wednesday instead of a Saturday, or maybe if it was James instead of Remus, or maybe if it was two o’clock in the afternoon instead of five o’clock. Maybe if any single thing had been different Sirius might not have continued the thought, which pressed at his ribs with a steady ache — a bruise begging to be pressed.
“Queers, poofs, whatever.” Sirius waved a hand dismissively. “My mother would throw a fit knowing we’re reading a novel by one of them.”
Remus’ face remained as blank as ever, if not for the slight crease in his forehead.
“She thinks they’re about as bad as mudbloods,” said Sirius, getting to his point after a bit more time had passed. That was about all there was to his point, but it felt significant for some reason. His heart was thundering loudly in his ears. Sirius wondered vaguely if Remus could hear it with his freaky hearing, then realised he probably could.
“What about you?” Remus asked quickly, watching Sirius intensely.
Sirius found looking at Remus to worsen the state of his rapidly beating heart as nervousness, or something, worked its way up his throat. Sirius swallowed, finding Lupin’s gaze too intense. He preferred the sight of his already half-picked thumbnail. He scraped at his thumb a bit more, swallowing again.
“Well, y’know, I don’t think mudbloods are all that bad. Evans is alright when she takes the quill out of her arse for three seconds, I guess.”
Sirius heard a snort of laughter that helped him relax his shoulders some. He continued speaking to his torn thumbnail.
“So… how right could she be about the rest of it, y’know what I mean?” Sirius said it quickly, as though it was a secret he wasn’t supposed to tell. It felt like a secret, in some odd way.
He was met with a silence that immediately made his heart lurch again. He forced himself to glance up, just enough to catch Remus’ eyes. Shockingly, Sirius found that they’d softened. They were far less intense, and even the crease between his eyebrows had disappeared. He was looking all, well, soft. It was a funny sort of look for Remus, Sirius thought. It suited him, yes, but not in the way his usual stoicism did.
“What?” Sirius asked after a while, feeling sheepish under the prolonged eye contact.
“Nothin’,” Remus replied immediately.
“No, no, what?” Sirius shuffled closer on the couch cushions, so close their knees were centermetres from touching. “You have to tell me now. You know how I get when you keep all your little secrets.”
Remus huffed. “Insufferable,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Exactly! Insufferable.”
“This is classic manipulation, you know, threatening poor behaviour like this?”
Sirius shrugged, quirking a smile. “Yes, well, I did have to learn some things from my mother, didn’t I?”
Remus shook his head again, pretending not to laugh in that way he did. “I was just thinking,” he said after a beat.
“About?”
“About how you’re brilliant.”
Sirius’ throat immediately felt thick. “What?”
“Dunno.” Remus somehow managed to avoid and catch Sirius’ eyes simultaneously. They were caramel in the afternoon sun, his favourite kind of sun for Remus’ eyes. “Just… dunno how someone so awful made you. And– and you’re so good.”
Sirius blinked rapidly, swallowing once then twice then a third time to try and rid himself of the lump in his throat. His cheeks burned, his throat, his eyes. He ducked his head.
“Oh,” he said stupidly. And then, “You’re not so bad yourself, Lupin,” he coughed out, having to first compose himself enough to do so.
“Shove off.”
“Go on,” Sirius said, wiping at his eyes as surreptitiously as he could manage. “Read more of the book written by the poof. Maybe I’ll write a report for good ol’ Walburga.”
tagged by my abosolute darling @fiddleleafedfig ! it's a bit longer than a snippet, but i was scrolling through my docs for something and stumbled upon it. it was too cute not to use.
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Chara Week Day 5: Ghost
Every time I see that machine in the True Lab, I wonder if it could possibly be Chara's soul in there? Probably unlikely, but not impossible... It's interesting to think about what the implications of that would be.
A version with no text and then a version with just the machine, because I think it looks pretty cool and ominous alone as well.....
#chara week#chara week 2023#undertale#safeutdr#chara dreemurr#my art#chara#undertale chara#chara undertale#true lab#I'm just thinking that. while it's possible that their soul shattered when they and Asriel died. we don't actually KNOW what happened#and human souls persist for a little while after death..... idk I'm bad at coming up with theories but I'm Thinking about it#and I will continue thinking about it even though it's probably not significant at all#ANYWAY it gave me a cool art idea so here you go. and hrm. yes technically I got that line from the Stay Calm fnaf fansong. specifically.#i don't like fnaf but the song is cool........... I'm pretty sure it gave me the idea for this drawing when i sketched it last may#btw yeah that's why i did this drawing specifically for this prompt. i had the sketch lying around and thought it would be fun to finish#ALSO I'm realizing that the dark ominous backgrounds of the True Lab are soooo fun to draw. especially with red glowy effects#AUGH oh no....... my habit of rambling excessively in the tags is returning........ I'll stop now lol
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man does anyone else just constantly forget neji died?? i was rewatching the war arc and got to it like HUH OH YEAH like i remember shikaku and inoichi more than him because i just didn’t like the writing for his and repressed it too much so now whenever i see any reference to it my brain blue screens for like 20 seconds straight
#it simply does not compute#like don’t get me wrong im into tragedy and well written character deaths ALWAYS get me#but idk i just thought neji was a poor choice if you HAD to kill one of the konoha twelve off#not that i WANTED any of them to die but i do think someone else would have been a better option#or killing off more than one would have balanced it better#and then it was also just how it was crammed between all the other big events so we had to rush past it#shout out to the fillers always knowing naruto deaths aren’t striking hard enough and giving the dead characters more significance lol#can always tell someone is about to die when the fillers start giving them all the meaningful moments rip#idk though even the folllow up grieving and references just didn’t add enough#plus how it kind of just contradicted the main goal of the series idk#i just don’t like it so my brain is just like what death???#probably would stick better if i ever rewatched post war or if i watched boruto though#but i dont so i continue to relive the ‘wtf why :/‘ every time i remember it lol#naruto shippuden spoilers#naruto spoilers#?????#does anyone need that tag???#idk i added it in case
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Jeff and Miles’ relationship in ITSV and ATSV
I really really love how Spiderverse tackle Miles’ relationship with his parents, more specifically Jeff and Miles’ relationship. Jeff’s main arc in both movie has been on how to connect to his son so he doesn’t loose him. His relationship with Aaron was what helped him to realise how he could loose Miles.
In Into the Spiderverse, we see him as a father who direct where his son should be as someone who wanted the best opportunity for him. He also forced Miles to say “I love you” back even though Miles was reluctant to do because other kids were watching. He pushed Miles in the direction he think is best but doesn’t considered what Miles find important (fitting in) and his feelings.
Then we saw his relationship with Aaron and how they had drifted apart due to their differences with Jeff being the one who actively disconnected it. When Aaron died, he was devastated because despite all the things he doesn’t approved of Aaron, he still cared for him. Despite all, he regrets not reconnecting his relationship with Aaron and their relationship end with no resolve and no goodbye.
He probably realised then that his relationship with Miles could go down the same path as Aaron and he’s afraid of loosing his son. So when he goes to Miles, he doesn’t demand Miles to talk to him or come out. He stand on the other side of the door and give Miles the option to talk to him when he’s ready to talk. He also said “I love you. You don’t have to say it back, though.”
Because even though he want what’s best for Miles, his life is still his own and he would accept Miles no matter what. He doesn’t want one more important relationship in his life to drift apart until it’s too late to put back together.
And he worked hard to understand Miles, both in ITSV and ATSV. He doesn’t get what’s going on with Miles half of the time, either from his secret identity or him being a teenager, and he does fucked up here and there but he continues to try and learn to understand him. He just loves Miles so much and I think we should talk about Jeff more.
This is also why I think Miles’ “one person” being his dad is actually so important and significant. They both love the other too much to loose them.
“You can’t think about saving the world, you have to think about saving one person.”
#both jeff and miles relationship and aaron and Miles relationship are so important to me#into the spiderverse#across the spiderverse#itsv#atsv#spiderverse#jefferson morales#miles morales#aaron davis#spiderverse analysis
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Every Man Gets his Wish
Warnings: 18+ smut, significant age gap, virgin!reader, kinda purity/corruption kink, problematic conversations around the hetero-normative concept of virginity, unprotected sex, power imbalance, cheating, blackmail/ coercion, noncon, forced breeding. Dead Dove, very creepy content, overall discretion advised.
WC: 3.1k
A/N: credit to @serenaxpedro for the prompt, what an idea...
Title is from the unreleased Lana song!
Sarah Miller was your college roommate. You became friends quickly, she was bubbly and personable and you felt as though you had known her for years.
Soon it turned into something else, you weren't sure you were necessarily official, but you fooled around together and dated. Then, one weekend, she invited you to go home with her.
So there you were, in her childhood bedroom. Her dad was out and you were both hanging out the window, sharing a joint. She was giggly at the best of times but combined with the weed, she was downright ridiculous.
"Shhh!" You urged. "What if he comes home?"
"You think he didn't smoke weed in his twenties?" She laughs.
"That's different, you- We-" She pulls a silly expression, waiting for you to go on, but you burst out into laughter before you can finish your thought.
After the joint is finished you lay in bed together, her on her back with her head on the pillow and you on your stomach next to her, kicking your legs up in the air behind you.
You point out a poster on the wall "Who the hell is that?" You ask.
She laughs and gets out her phone. "A band I was obsessed with when I was younger. Listen."
She plays a terrible song, an angsty boyband and you laugh along with her.
You hadn't even heard her dad's truck pull up or him enter the house.
"I had such a crush on him." She admits, showing you a photo of one of the band members.
"Gross." You say.
"I thought you liked guys too?" She responds.
"I do, I guess, but I'm picky."
"What do you mean by picky?"
"Well... I've slept with probablyyyy..." You drag out the word. "I don't know. A few girls at least. But never a guy."
She laughs. "So you're a virgin?"
You throw a pillow at her softly. "I'm not a-" You laugh too. "I'm not a virgin. There's nothing that says you must sleep with a dude to lose your virginity."
She hums, unconvinced.
Neither of you are aware that her dad is standing right outside the bedroom door. He hadn't even meant to snoop, he was just going to knock and tell you he was home. But he was interested in the conversation and listened in.
"I just have never met a guy I was remotely interested in sleeping with. They're so. Bleh." You pull a face as you make the mocking sound and she laughs.
"Well you're in college now so I'm sure that will change."
"College boys are no better than high school boys. They all suck." You giggle.
"I'm hungry." She announces, and jumps off the bed.
Just then, a knock sounds on the bedroom door.
"Can I come in?" A gruff voice sounds.
Your eyes widen in panic, worried he will come in, smell the weed, and lose his shit. You know your own dad would. Sarah sees your nerves and rolls her eyes at you.
"What is it?" She responds.
The door opens and you see Sarah's dad for the first time. He is tall and broad, visibly muscular under his tight dark tshirt. You look away, worried you were staring. But then again, you're high, and paranoid, and you probably weren't.
"Just came in to say I'm home. You girls need anything?" He asks.
"Food." Sarah says quickly. Too quickly. You shoot her a look.
He just laughs, muttering "I wonder why." Then he continues, "Well I went to the store today. There's chips, and, other stuff, I think."
She is already pushing past him.
He watches her go and then his gaze turns to you. He is smirking. He must be able to tell you are squirming with anxiety.
"I don't care about the weed." He says.
Your eyes are still wide in panic. You don't know what to respond.
He walks further into the room, still watching you.
"So..." He says. "You're Sarah's... Girlfriend?"
You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"Shouldn't you ask her that?" You say. Admittedly, it maybe comes out ruder than you intended.
He laughs and whistles. "Alright. Feisty. I see why she likes you."
You don't respond. You continue to stare at him. You don’t know what he wants from you, and the whole ‘Cool Dad’ thing isn’t particularly impressive to you.
He licks his lips. “Anyway, from what I hear, sounds like you’re a good girl. So I don’t mind.”
You wonder what he means by that and realise he must have heard the conversation that you were having just before he came in. If it was possible, you feel yourself blushing harder.
His gaze is practically painful, you feel so embarrassed. The look on his face tells you that he knows this, and something else behind his eyes tells you he might even be enjoying it.
“I liked what I heard.” He says. You can see his gaze wandering all over you, you are only wearing a vest and shorts. “Always better to skip messing around with boys and wait for a man.”
You don’t meet his eye.
Sarah’s footsteps approach and he goes to leave the room, shooting you a wink.
She enters with her arms ladened with chips, soda, and candy.
You laugh at the sight of her. She closes the door behind herself with her foot.
“What did he want?” She asks, dropping her stash on the bed.
“Oh umm…” You try and think of what to say. “Just asking how school’s going.”
She laughs. “Surprising. He doesn’t take an interest in my degree.”
You just smile back and shrug. You feel bad about lying but you don’t know how to explain that you think her dad might have been creeping on you.
You lay in bed together, eating snacks and playing on your phones.
After a while, you’re thirsty. “I need water.” You say.
“Go help yourself.” She says, smiling.
“What if your dad’s downstairs?” You ask.
“It doesn’t matter.” She responds.
“But-”
“Don’t be a baby.” She taunts. “You can go to the kitchen without me holding your hand.”
You hit her playfully. She knows you’re not even shy so you don’t have a good excuse as to why you don’t want to go down alone.
You groan loudly and stand up.
“Can I at least get a sweater? I feel naked.”
She gestures to one strewn over her chair.
“Thanks.” You say. You put it on and it drowns you, covering your shorts.
You tiptoe down to the first floor quietly, not wanting your movements around the house to be easily noticeable.
You hear the television on as you get to the bottom of the stairs and realise he is in the living room, you would have to walk directly past him to get to the kitchen.
You flash him a smile as you pass, and he stares at you. You turn round when you enter the kitchen and he’s still staring, his eyes glued to your ass. He doesn’t even try to be subtle. Gross.
You find the cupboard that contains the glasses and run the tap. You jump as you turn round and find he is standing there, only the kitchen island separating you.
“Cute sweater.” He says, pointing at your chest.
“Umm…” You look down. It has the name of a baseball team on it. “It’s Sarah’s.”
“Actually, it’s mine.” He corrects.
“Oh. Sorry. She gave it to me.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, darlin’. Looks good. Keep it.” He says, nodding.
You don’t argue, but it’s not like you are actually going to keep it. You’ll just take it right back off and give it to Sarah. You only put it on so you didn’t attract his attention. It unfortunately had the opposite effect.
You have dealt with creepy guys before, but you have never been in their house. It is so much more intimidating. The fact he was attractive made it harder too, drawing you to him despite the obvious danger he posed.
You offer him a stiff smile and go to make your way round the kitchen counter and past him. He sidesteps and blocks your path.
An awkward laugh escapes you, and you look up at him.
He watches you, smiling. The tension is getting to you. He doesn’t make any move out of your way.
“What do you want from me?” You whisper.
“What? Nothing, sweetheart.” He says, frowning in confusion.
For a moment, you thought he was being genuine and you think you might have been reading this all wrong. Guilt twinges at you and you consider the situation. Maybe he was just lonely and awkward. Maybe Sarah didn’t have people round often and he was genuinely trying to be welcoming in his own way.
But he still doesn’t move.
“Excuse me.” You whisper.
He reaches a hand out to touch your face. You recoil but he pursues you, taking another step closer.
He runs his thumb across your lips.
“Funny. What you said earlier about being a virgin. It’s so obvious to me now.” He says.
You freeze in place, feeling your face heating in shock and embarrassment.
“There’s this… Look in your eyes. And how shy and embarrassed you get, how much you blush.” He says softly. One of his hands is gently stroking at your face, his thumb still tracing your bottom lip.
You try not to meet his eye, desperately looking for something else to focus on.
“Maybe you could use a lesson.” He muses.
“Mr Miller I-”
He finally steps away. “Hey, no pressure. I’m just kidding.”
Then, as you walked away, he slapped your ass.
You curse yourself for moments ago considering giving him the benefit of the doubt. He knew exactly what he was doing.
You couldn’t turn to face him so you scurried back up the stairs. You heard him chuckle behind you and your skin crawled. What was this guy’s problem?
You slammed the door behind you after hurrying into Sarah’s room.
“Woah.” She says, looking up to take in your expression. “What’s wrong?”
She reaches out to you and you climb onto the bed beside her.
You try to smile but it’s stiff and you feel closer to tears than anything.
“I don’t know. Bad weed I think. I feel so weird.”
You couldn’t tell her what was going on with Mr Miller. You barely understood yourself, never mind trying to explain it.
“Come here, chicken.” She says, reaching out and pulling you into her chest. You laughed a little at the nickname you had for each other.
Her sweet scent and warmth lulls you to sleep.
You wake up in the early hours of the morning needing to use the bathroom.
You pad barefoot across the hall and into the main bathroom. As you wash your hands, there is a soft knock at the door. You are still dazed from sleep and you open it.
You are instantly pushed backwards and the door closes again. Mr Miller.
He presses you into the counter immediately. He seems to have been drinking the whole time you have been asleep, his eyes a little glazed over and his movements slightly off balance.
“How you doin’?” He slurs.
“I’m fine, please-” He grinds into you, you are pinned against the counter and both his arms are either side of you, caging you in.
“Please, don’t do this.” You plead.
“What?” He says. “What don’t you want me to do?”
“I don’t know- just, any of this, please. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I think you did ask for it, baby. Think you’ve been asking for it all night. You came into my house, you bragged about never having been fucked before, and you expect me not to take that as a challenge? Paraded around in my clothes in front of me, with your ass out like a whore? Huh? That’s not asking for it?”
You feel tears forming in your eyes. “Bragging? No, honestly, that was a private conversation. One that you were not supposed to be involved in.”
“This is my house. Nothing that happens under my roof is private from me. Don’t be disrespectful.” He spits.
Your fear and discomfort turns into frustration. “Is this what you do? Force yourself on all of Sarah’s guests? I should go tell her.”
You try to push past him but he grabs both of your wrists and pushes his groin harder against you. You can practically taste the alcohol on his breath because of how close he is to you.
“Maybe I’ll go tell her you tried it on with me. She’ll be heartbroken, doll. You’re a real catch.”
You glare at him. This is fully-fledged blackmail.
“And then what ya’ gonna do?” He continues. “College is a long way off. So is home. It’s the middle of the night.”
You swallow your retort, realising he is right. You are technically stuck here, at least until the morning. You try a different tactic, sighing deeply.
“Listen, Mr. Miller, I’m really sorry for all this. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I, I don't want this. Can we just agree to forget all this, please? For Sarah?”
His eyes flash with something violent.
“Don’t bring her into this.”
“Please Mr-”
“Don’t call me that.” He snaps.
“Why?” You say sweetly.
He grabs your hand and forces it against the hard bulge in his jeans. “Because you’re turning me on.”
You could always yell out to Sarah.
As if reading your mind, he brings a hand to your mouth and presses down, covering it. His other hand works it’s way into your shorts. You squirm and try to kick at him but he’s strong and holds you in place.
“No one’s had you before?” He says. “Really?”
He isn’t looking for an answer, as he doesn’t take his hand away that is gripping your mouth.
“I haven’t fucked a virgin in years.” He says.
Your skin crawls at the thought as he continues to rub the outside of your underwear. You are doing all you can to avert your gaze and avoid his eyes, not wanting to see the sick look of pleasure he is bound to have behind them.
His fingers are rubbing through your folds, it is unpleasant, you aren’t getting wet because you are so uncomfortable. He takes his hand out and spits on it before forcing it back into your underwear, roughly inserting two fingers inside you.
He groans as he pushes them inside of you, you continue to whimper against the hand he has pressed to your mouth. He curls his fingers deep inside you and the stretch is painful.
He flashes you a dangerous look and hisses "Don't make a sound."
He removes the hand covering your mouth and you are intimidated into doing as he says, keeping quiet.
With both hands he tears off your shorts and underwear, and spins you round so your ass faces him and you are looking in the mirror.
You close your eyes, not wanting to see him or yourself as the situation unfolds. You feel him unzipping his jeans behind you and the heavy weight of his erect cock hits your ass. You feel him stroke himself a few times before gripping your thighs and spreading them apart, lifting one of your knees up to the counter and shifting himself to enter inside of you.
"Please don't-" You whimper, your voice weak and quiet.
He hisses at you to be quiet again.
He rubs his cock through your folds a couple of times before bringing it to your entrance. You gasp as he pushes it into you mercilessly, you are tight and unprepared. He stuffs himself inside you all the way to the hilt and tears threaten to spill from your eyes.
He immediately sets an aggressive pace, not a care for your discomfort as you squirm under him. His hands grip you roughly, holding you as still as possible to allow him to have his way with you.
After a while, you get used to the feeling and grow numb to the pain of his huge cock piercing into you. He breathes heavily in your ear and you cringe at the intimate sounds, trying your best to shut out all of the sensations, trying not to feel, not to hear, not to watch as he does this.
“Look at yourself, fuckin’ slut.” He says. He pulls your hair so as to lift your head up, forcing you face to face with yourself in the mirror. “Every girl’s good till she takes the right cock. Then look. Turns you all into filthy fuckin’ whores.”
Your expressions are pornographic. Your brows are pulled together and your eyes are practically glazed over. You look cock drunk and ridiculous. You barely have it in you to be ashamed of yourself, as you are starting to enjoy what he is doing to you.
“You’re gonna think of me every time you take another cock.” He hisses in your ear. “You’re never gonna have anyone again without wishing it was me fucking this tight little cunt.”
You don't respond, your eyes drifting closed. He grips your face roughly. "Keep them open. Watch yourself. You like it."
He shows no mercy with his rough thrusts, but his pace eventually begins to slow. "Gonna fill you with my cum. You want that?"
You look at him in panic and he seems to enjoy that, a twisted grin appearing on his face once again.
"P-Please, no-" You stutter. "Please don't-"
"Shut up and take it." He grunts, his thrusts somehow feeling deeper than ever as he ruts into you.
After a few moments he releases a strangled groan and stills inside you. You feel his hot release leaking into you and you let out a sob. He watches you in glee as he pulls out and your legs shake, struggling to steady yourself against the counter.
He tucks his cock into his jeans and you keep your eyes pressed shut, you can't look at him.
“You’re welcome back any time, honey.” He says.
He exits the bathroom and you are left to deal with your girlfriend’s dad’s cum dripping down your inner thighs.
ThatMrMiller Masterlist
#dark!joel miller#dark!joel smut#dark!joel#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller au#joel miller oneshot#thatmrmiller#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller x f!reader#tlou smut#tlou fanfiction#tlou au#tlou fic
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15. “why aren’t you checking me out?” “do you want me to check you out?” “yes. obviously” with Nico please!!
To say you were at your wits end with Nico was an understatement. You had known him ever since he had moved into the apartment across from you years ago and never once, despite the attraction that you were sure was mutual, he never made a move.
There were longing glances and trips to his game that just weren’t platonic. Sometimes he even spent more time in your comfortable apartment just lounging around than at his. It was last year that he started inviting you to awards, dinners, and fundraisers. You felt certain that the people that came up to you thought that you and Nico were an item and the flutter your heart did when he didn’t correct them was something you kept to yourself.
However, today you were done with playing this cat-and-mouse game with your handsome Swiss neighbor. Well, if that was in fact what was happening. There was always a chance that he was just being nice and attentive but something deep inside you told you that he had to feel the same.
That was why you now stood in the hotel room that you and Nico were sharing in Tennesse smoothing out your classy yet revealing blue satin dress that hugged all the right places. You had spent longer on your hair than was strictly necessary but you were happy with the way it turned out.
Looking into the floor-length mirror you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You were stunning and if Nico didn’t do something about it tonight then some other hockey player would definitely.
“We have to go now or we’ll be-“ Nico’s words were cut off as he walked out of the bathroom, fixing his tie, and looked at you.
You smiled slyly and did a little turn for him, “thoughts?”
Nico was silent for a moment but before he could say anything he pulled his tie too tightly. Your eyes widened and you rushed over to him to help. You still weren’t at eye level with him in your heels and you tried not to think about that as you helped him loosen his tie.
Finally, you stepped back and took him in. Nico was always handsome and put together but today he looked delectable.
“You look great, Neeks.” You smiled honestly and hoped to the high heavens that you weren’t blushing.
He looked at his well-polished shoes and if you didn’t know better you would have sworn that his cheeks turned a light pink.
“I can’t even measure up to you,” Nico said breathlessly.
You decided to stop teasing him for now. After all, they had the entire awards ceremony to do that.
Instead, you held out a hand to him, “Let's get going, captain.”
You decided to ignore the way his eyes bulged at your choice of words and lead him out of the room. Not before making a mental note to refer to him as ‘captain’ in the future, though.
-
You were enjoying yourself more than you thought you would. You met family members and significant others of the hockey players that were attending. Most of them were kind and welcoming and you found a way to entertain yourself when Nico was giving interviews or talking to other players.
Of course, none of this stopped you from trying to get Nico to check you out. Nothing worked, though. Not when you pushed your chest out ever so slightly or ran your toes along his leg. He remained respectful the whole night.
So when you left, despite getting the numbers of several other significant others and hockey players, you just couldn’t consider this night a success.
You were pouting when Nico helped you into his car and continued to do so as he climbed in and started driving back to your apartment building.
“What’s wrong, y/n?” Nico questioned in the quietness of the car.
You looked over at him and saw he was still looking at the road. In your tipsy haze, it only made you more frustrated. You were tired of trying to get him to take the hint.
“Why aren’t you checking me out?” You asked bluntly, not caring that you probably never would have been so bold if you didn’t have at least a little bit of liquid courage coursing through your veins.
You didn’t miss the way that his bushy eyebrow raised and he snuck a quick glance your way. He didn’t answer for a long while but when he stopped at a red light he finally turned to face you.
“Do you want me to check you out?” He asked slowly, almost hesitantly.
“Yes, obviously!” Your voice was loud and the amusement on your friend's face was clear. “Look how hot I am tonight.”
Nico laughed and pressed the gas as the light turned green.
You should have stopped but you found yourself continuing, “I check you out all of the time. It would be courteous for you to do the same.”
“What makes you think I don’t?” Nico said simply.
That left you silent for the first time that night. The quiet in the car remained until Nico parked his car in the garage. It was only when he turned the keys and shut off the car that you finally found the courage to speak up.
“How long?”
“Huh?” Nico made a confused noise and removed his hand from the door handle.
“How long have you been checking me out?”
Your mouth was dry and your heart was racing. You wanted to know so badly and the fact that he had just admitted that he saw you similarly to the way you saw him, at least in a small way, was almost overwhelming. You made yourself turn to him and saw in the darkness of the car and garage that Nico was already looking at you. His usually soft brown eyes were dark and the way he looked at you was intense.
“Since I’ve met you.” He said it so smoothly, as though it was obvious. “It’s hard not to look at you. My eyes always find you when you walk into a room and I never want to look away.”
You swallowed dryly. You wanted to reach out and touch him. How? You weren’t sure but you needed to close the gap between the two of you.
Your eyes tracked the way his tongue ran along his pink lips and without realizing it the words left your mouth, “I’ve wanted you since you moved into the same building as me.”
As soon as you heard what you said you knew it was true. Probably the truest thing you had ever said.
“Y/n,” Nico’s accent was thick as he spoke but the rasp was more present than it had ever been. “I need to kiss you. Tell me I can.”
This was your plan before the night had even started. You wanted Nico’s attention and you wanted to finally move forward in your relationship so there was no second guessing when you nodded your head enthusiastically.
“Please do.”
It was a plea and Nico answered it immediately. He leaned over the center console where you met him halfway. A warmth filled you and sparks of electricity played throughout your body when your lips melded together. Nico tasted of mint and some sort of soda that you couldn’t even care to name right now. You couldn’t get enough of it, though. You never wanted to taste anything else ever again.
When he pulled away, it was only slightly. Your lips were so close to touching and it took every ounce of your willpower to not lean over and kiss him again.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Nico’s breath brushed against her lips and your eyelids fluttered at his words.
“Trust me,” you smiled dreamily. “No one knows better than me.”
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I have SO MANY feelings about Kanan, Zeb, and Rex all being some of the last few survivors of dying cultures.
Even though the Jedi can pass on their teachings and there will always be more Force sensitive people in the galaxy, the specific culture of the Prequels Jedi that Kanan grew up with will never completely come back. Jedi like Ezra and Luke will share a lot of similarities, obviously, especially philosophically, but their way of life and traditions will look VERY different, as will whatever ends up evolving from them (and from Rey if we include the Sequels).
Similarly, Zeb finds the Lasat on Lira San, but those Lasat will presumably have a VERY different culture than the one that existed on Lasan. The two groups of Lasat have been separated for so long that Lira San has become legend and is thought to not really exist and even the people who believe it exists don't realize what it actually is and that there are other Lasat on there. This implies that it's been an EXTREMELY long time since the Lasat of Lasan originally left Lira San and the two groups have probably diverged quite a bit. Lira San itself is also just not going to feel like Lasan, it won't have the same landscapes or wildlife, the cities will be different. The language might even have some significant differences that the last three Lasan survivors would have to navigate. And there's no getting back that culture from Lasan, it's gone. There's only three known survivors and they're going to end up just... engulfed into the Lira San culture without a lot of ability to pass on what they remember from Lasan. Lasan might end up like... a chapter in a Lira San history text and that's probably it. The nuances of its culture will be lost completely.
And the clones. The clones are just going to completely disappear. People will likely only remember the clones even existed because the war got named after them. All they'll be remembered FOR is violence and death. Depending on who is talking about them, they'll either be the traitors who destroyed the Jedi and allowed the Empire to reign, or the poor pawns that the Empire used to destroy the Jedi and keep the galaxy under its thumb. Who they were will be completely and utterly lost. And there's no way for them to continue in any form. While it's POSSIBLE that a few of them might have sired children out in the galaxy somewhere, we never have any confirmation of that, and nearly all of them are dead by the time the Empire falls. Their friendship with the Jedi, what little culture they were able to develop, all of that is lost to time and will disappear once the final clone dies.
It's such a horrific thing that is happening to these three characters, a slow dying out that that's literally happening in front of their very eyes. It's the worst kind of connection between the three of them, but something that's probably really important in their various relationships. No one else understands this grief the way they do, no one else quite understands how this feels, the helplessness and hopelessness. There's absolutely nothing they can do but try to keep going and remember their people as best they can and live according to the culture the Empire has tried to eradicate.
I like to think the three of them end up discussing it one day, maybe one Empire Day they all just decide to go drinking and be maudlin together. And Kanan ends up talking about how the Jedi believed that there was no death, there was the Force. Everyone who dies rejoins the Force, so even if they're gone they're still impacting the galaxy and the people living in it, regardless of whether those who remain can feel them or not. Maybe you get a burst of inspiration or have a lucky break or meet someone you instantly click with, and maybe that's the people who've left before you still touching your life through the Force, binding you together no matter what. Zeb and Rex really connect to this belief and end up finding comfort and even a little healing in it.
#star wars#kanan jarrus#caleb dume#captain rex#garazeb orrelios#jedi#clones#clone troopers#lasat#lasan#lira san#prequels jedi#pro jedi#tw genocide
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Hi I reallllly love the way you wrote the reader with healing powers and I was wondering if I could take you up on your offer of continuing it?✨💖
A/N: A sweet (and lil angsty) HC list for how they’d react to your powers after initially finding out about them
Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace
Cw: Ace and Law’s hold a lot of angst. All of them are a little angsty but Ace and Law have a significant amount.
Total word count: 1.3k
First part :)
The Pain of Healing Part 2
Zoro
Zoro isn’t the kind of guy to tell you what you can and can’t do. His lover isn’t weak, and he knows that you know your limits, so he never stops you. But he does keep a close eye on you, especially during battles.
He’s probably one of the few people who actually understand your pain and your sacrifice, and he understands what an insult it would be to ask you to stop doing that.
You all do have a mutual understanding though: he won’t stop you, and you won’t heal him. Your secret is safe for him, as long as you don’t use it on him.
He cares for you in small, quiet ways. He massages your sore muscles after a hard healing, and cuddles you extra close on the tough nights.
Whenever he sees a crewmember feeling particularly good after a fight, he wanders off to find you. He always picks you up without another word and carries you back to the ship, letting you sleep. He’ll tuck you into bed and leave you to sleep the pain away. He might crawl into bed with you, but you usually sleep better without him in moments like this.
He’s proud of you and what you’re willing to do for the crew, but a small piece of him is afraid that one day you’ll do too much, or something bad will happen to you because you went too far.
Sanji
Sanji has to bite his tongue when he sees you using your powers.
You agree to his request not to heal him anymore, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes his wounds aren’t healing quickly without you. But when he notices other crew members wounds healing quickly, he gets a bad feeling in his stomach.
“My love?” he finally asks one day. “Do you heal others the way you used to heal me?”
“Sometimes,” you say. “When they need it, or whenever I can help.”
He hates that. He hates that you're being hurt, but he knows it’s not his place to critique your decisions, so he bites his tongue and he massages your body and after you’ve fallen asleep, he holds you and he cries for your pain, wishing he could take your pain away just like you can to others.
He doesn’t stop you though, or tell you that he thinks it’s a bad idea. You can see it in his body language whenever you talk about it, but both of you ignore it.
Luffy
Luffy doesn’t ask for healings anymore, but he never turns you down when you ask him.
When you find little cuts and bruises along his body, you ask him if you can heal it. He always gives you a wide smile and nods, fascinated by how your powers work.
He also knows it's a form of love you give him, and that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.
He honestly doesn’t think too much of him “causing you pain”, even though nobody else on the crew will let you help them. Luffy knows you wouldn’t offer if you didn’t want to do it. He doesn’t ask for healing, but if you’re offering then he doesn’t mind saying yes.
The only time he will turn you down is when he’s in a battle and he knows how badly he’s wounded. He always claims he wants to beat the enemy on his own merit, but really he’s afraid of how much you’ll be hurting at his expense.
He’ll turn down your requests for a few days after battle, waiting for his bruising to go down and his cuts to start healing before he accepts your help. He only wants you to help with the little things, he doesn’t want to cause you actual pain.
Law
He waits for you to recover before he brings up your powers again. When you’re finally feeling okay enough to sit up, he pulls up a stool and puts his best “I’m-Your-Doctor-Not-Your-Boyfriend” face on.
“I don’t want you doing that again,” he said sternly. “Ever.”
“That’s not your call to make, Law,” you say sternly back.
He sighed, knowing what was coming. And it did. You all snapped at each other, arguing back and forth. Both of you were stubborn, and neither of you would yield in your stance.
Finally, after an hour of arguing, you lay back on the bed and turn away from him. You’re tired of fighting and tired of sitting up for so long.
“I just need you safe,” he said. “You’re going to overdo it and hurt yourself one day, and I can't-” his voice breaks, and you feel the guilt of making him hurt.
You turn back over to face him, trying to offer a compromise. “I’ll only do it when it’s necessary, okay?”
He nods at that, seeming to contemplate your offer. “And when I’m around,” he added.
“Law,” you warn. You know that's not a fair compromise, and so does he.
“Fine. Only when it’s necessary.” He doesn’t like it, and neither do you, but it’s the best you’re going to get.
He scowls when he sees you using it or when he sees your body weakened by the aftermath of it, but he never complains or argues. He has to admit, you do well to hold true to your end of the promise, so he never pesters you about it anymore.
Your powers just kind of acts as this thing neither of you are super thrilled about, but you tolerate for the other person. It’s better not to acknowledge it, even if he is really curious on how it all works
Ace
You and Ace fight over this topic. A lot. The first time was when Marco came to you, letting you know that Ace had talked to him about your powers.
You stormed off to find him, and a major fight ensued. Ace didn’t want you to be hurting yourself for other people’s mistakes, and you wanted to help people whenever you could.
It’s a tense topic of conversation, something you all just choose to avoid discussing after a while, because every time it inevitably leads to a fight.
Ace didn’t tell people, but he did ask your division commander to keep an eye on you in battle. “She’s been acting a little rash,” he’d say. “I’m worried about her.” Your commander came to ask you if you were okay, worried about your mental health. You had no idea what he was talking about, and he told you about Ace’s concern. That caused a pretty big fight.
He even went so far as to ask Whitebeard to have you transferred to his division so he could keep an eye on you. Whitebeard denied it, and asked you if you were having trouble in your current division. That caused another big fight.
You know he just wants to keep you safe, and that his intentions are good, but it still enrages you that he doesn’t want you helping out when you can. It enrages you even more that he’s meddling so much in your life.
Finally one night he breaks down, holding you tight against his chest. “I can’t lose you,” he sobs into your hair. Your heart hurts hearing him cry. You wished that the two of you could come to an understanding with each other.
“You won’t,” you whisper into his chest, tears springing up. You believed in yourself, you just wanted him to believe in you too.
#one piece#one piece imagine#one piece scenario#one piece x reader#one piece x you#zoro#roronoa zoro#zoro x reader#zoro x y/n#zoro x you#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#sanji x y/n#sanji x reader#sanji x you#monkey d luffy#luffy#monkey d. luffy#luffy x reader#luffy x y/n#trafalgar law#trafalgar d water law#law x y/n#law x reader#trafalgar law x y/n#trafalgar law x reader#portgas d ace#portgas ace x you#portgas ace x reader#cozage
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Though I adore the dynamic myself, it struck me as odd a few months back that fans were taking a "Monster loved for the first time" approach to Astarion. Part of the allure of a vampire (for me anyway) is the act of transformation; the horror and tragedy of having lost who you were before—including all those everyday, human experiences. There were debates about precisely how old Astarion was when he died and at the same time fans were screaming over him having his first hug, his first real romance, this is the first time someone has helped him without ulterior motives, etc. and I'm going, "How is that possible?" This is an elf who lived a life before being turned, even if it was short compared to what his race would normally experience. Astarion had a family. He had a job! Yet the fandom (and to an extent the game as well) treats Astarion as more of a Phantom-esque character: deemed monstrous from birth and blindsided by the simplest acts of love because he was denied them from the get-go.
Of course, it's easy enough to read everything through the lens of slavery and torture. Sure, Astarion had all this at one point but it's been so long and his life as a vampire has been so unimaginably torturous that it's eclipsed those earlier experiences. I get that... but time as the answer still didn't fully convince me.
Not until I started romancing him and hit this line:
"I... I don't know. I can't remember."
This is in response to asking Astarion what color his eyes were before they turned red. Can we just sit with that for a moment? He doesn't remember the color of his eyes. This line was a game changer for me because I can't even CONCEPTUALIZE that. Mirrors appear to be pretty common in Faerûn—it's not like this is a setting devoid of all modern inventions and Astarion, as a member of the upper class, absolutely would have had access to various ornate mirrors like the one he starts this scene with—so what does it take to make you completely forget such an ingrained bit of knowledge about yourself? 200 years as a dehumanized slave, obviously. Still, my mind continues to trip over the idea. I have blue eyes. That's a fact I've known since I had any real sense of self. If my eyes were to suddenly change tomorrow I can't imagine forgetting that they were originally blue. Even if I'd put it from my mind for an extended period of time I'd expect the very pointed question, "What color were they before?" would fire some old synapses and drag the information back. Obviously none of us have any idea what 200 years would do to a human brain (or, you know, an elf's) but it still feels firmly in the real of impossibility that I could ever completely forget something like that.
Yet Astarion has and this line more than anything else has sold me on his Baby Monster Loved For The First Time characterization, both in-game and in the fandom. He acts like he's never been hugged before? Of course he does! The guy can't remember his eye color and you think he's going to recall any probably-treated-as-casual-and-thus-didn't-solidify-as-significant-memories hugs while alive? When was the last time you were hugged? I'm not sure. I know I HAVE hugged recently but was the last one with family over Thanksgiving? Did I give my friend a brief side-hug before we parted? I'm lucky in that hugs are such a normalized part of my life that I don't give them much thought... which means that if you were to suddenly enslave me and keep me isolated for 200 years, yeah, I'd probably forget what they feel like too. Or that I ever had any at all.
(Self-hatred is going to play hell with memory too. Once you feel like you don't deserve something and it's continually denied to you it's easier to convince yourself you never had it to begin with.)
So yeah, Astarion acts like someone who was always the monster because he has, on a literal canonical level, forgotten what it was like to be anything else. Which just sets his relationship with Tav into such angsty, terrifying focus. Here's someone who has lost his previous identity. He (rightfully) despises the identity Cazador forced on him. Even if he didn't, Astarion is now miles away, the tattered remains of his self threatened by ceremorphosis. He stares into a mirror knowing he'll never see anything, but doing it anyway because he needs to figure out who he is—and that's precisely where most of us would start. What do I look like? What do others see when they see me? Is that the person I want to be?
Then Tav offers to be his mirror, just like they offered to sketch out the poem on his back. How exquisitely horrible for Astarion. He's being given precisely what he wants but he's in NO position to take it. All his sense of self placed in the hands of another? Asking, "Who am I?" and hearing, "I'll tell you. I'll be the keeper of that knowledge"? That's a far more intimate, potentially destructive power than anything else Astarion is looking to get his hands on AND he's trying to manipulate YOU at this point in the story! It just makes me crazy because Astarion is desperate to figure out who he is, but circumstances have ensured that, at this point in time, he needs to put his trust in someone else to begin answering that question... and the one thing he does know about himself is that he's a manipulative, mistrustful rogue who's only out to keep himself safe. Allowing someone else to take the reins with his identity (again) is probably the least safe thing he could possibly think of.
It's this messy tragic loop that yes, Astarion is working to break by the end of the game (depending on your choices) but in Act 1? Goddamn. No wonder he's trying desperately to maintain control of this relationship. No wonder—despite his best efforts—he's still undone by the simplest acts of kindness.
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Random Chuuya headcanons
I honestly feel like he wouldn’t date anybody since he is in the mafia and he wouldn’t want anybody to be in danger because of that, he would probably date someone if they’re in the mafia with him
But if he were to date somebody then he would most definitely keep his eyes on his significant other, like he would stay loyal to that person and make them his top priority
Even though he is rich, I don’t think he would be buying unnecessary things, like I just feel like he wouldn’t go around buying hundreds of things just bc he’s rich
He has a YouTube channel of him doing skincare and hauls and a bunch of other stuff
He DEFINITELY knows how to cook and draw/paint😍😍
He hates when other people struggle, he feels like he struggled a lot and went through so much pain and he doesn’t want anybody else to experience that either. As soon as someone opens up to him he’s right by their side
Even after that if the person is doing fine he would still keep an eye out and look out for that person to make sure that they’re actually okay
He’s insecure about himself so he absolutely loves when other people compliment him even if it’s a small one
Even though he is insecure about himself people still come up with him, he doesn’t know how attractive he really is. He doesn’t realize when people are trying to flirt with him he just thinks they’re complimenting them or referring to something else
I feel like since he works at the mafia that he wakes up early for work, he either wakes up at 5:00 or 5:30. He is probably won’t get a chance to sleep sometimes since he works late
If you’re his lover, be prepared because you won’t really see him that much since he has a strict schedule and will mostly come home at midnight, even then he would still find time to spend with you
He has social media like TikTok and instagram but he doesn’t post that much, the least that he would post is a picture of wine on his story
I don’t know if it’s just me but I feel like he has Heterochromia since his eyes are blue in the anime but brown in the manga.
He knows multiple languages like Japanese, English, French, Italian, and Spanish. He is fluent in Japanese (obviously) and Spanish, probably French too because of Verlaine.
He also likes to curse in French
Sometimes he paints his nails red or black if he’s bored
He definitely has light freckles on his face that are too light to see, he also has 2-3 scars from fighting.
He probably has piercings like his lip or eyebrow, maybe even his nose
His style is soo good, I picture him most likely wearing black, red, gray, white, or just any colors that go good with each other.
Along with the hat and wine collection, he also loves to collect shoes and gloves although he will continue to wear the same pair of shoes and gloves even if he has hundreds of them in different colors
Whenever he tries to put his hair in a ponytail he can NEVER get it right, it’s either too far up, too far back, not straight, or there’s a huge lump
His hands are so freaking nice, and they are literally bigger than dazais (this isn’t a headcanon this is true look it up)
Absolutely LOVESS music, In my opinion I think he listens to a lot of bands and hard rock. He is over 10 hours on Spotify and has playlists for different purposes
If he has a crush and they mention their favorite music artist or song he will go home and listen to that all day
Whenever a person betrays him I feel like he wouldn’t hate that person completely, he would still care about them but not as much as he used to
He likes hot showers especially if he is stressed out, he loves the feeling of it on his scalp
He has a few bottles of cologne but he wears one specific one most of the time, it’s like his signature smell
Since he is insecure about his appearance he wears like makeup like concealer on his scars and marks
He likes to invite some of the other pm members to the bar every Friday if he has free time
There was one time where he got so sad to the point where he didn’t want to do anything, he didn’t feel like getting out of bed, eating, or cleaning his room
He did really well in school, he didn’t have a big friend group he really only had 2-3 close friends and the rest were people he just talks too
Everyday before going to work he looks in the mirror and winks at himself and does random cringey poses
If he catches you staying up too late on your phone he will snatch it away from you and cuddle you to sleep
He likes to buy his friends things, like if they’re at a coffee shop then he will buy them something or pay for their coffee
He would genuinely love his significant other a lot, he’d call them when he has time to at work and text them just to check up on them
He sometimes takes a trip to the store after work to buy unnecessary snacks that he won’t eat
He REALLY cares about his hygiene, he always smells good even without cologne. You will never catch this man stinking
He has a few posters of dogs on his wall, when he was OBSESSED with dogs he bought a lapel pin with a brown chihuahua on it and he would wear it to work every single day
His sleep schedule is kind of messed up since of his work but it’s not as bad as Dazai’s
His body is soo AJAKSSHSJHS like his waist is snatched and his legs are muscular like omg😍
He either types with a bunch of emojis or is just dry, it depends on the person because he could be like “Ok!😜💕❤️😘😁☺️😍🥳🐒🦅🎣😍📝” or he could be like “k”. It depends on his mood and who he’s texting
On mondays he would telll himself that he only has to make to Friday (he’s been telling himself that for years, he honestly never makes it to Friday)
That’s all for now but I will most likely be adding more headcanons to this list :D
#chuuya fluff#chuuya headcanons#chuuya imagines#chuuya scenarios#chuuya smut#chuuya x reader#chuuya x y/n#chuuya x you#chuuya nakahara#bsd chuuya#chuuyabsd#chuuya x gn reader#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd#bsd manga#chuuya bsd#bsd fanart#bsd spoilers#chuuya#bsd headcanons#anime#anime headcanons#anime x reader#bungou stray dogs chuuya#dazai x chuuya
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Oh, Woe is Me...
A/N: Once again splitting up the story bc of how things go...It is certainly Going Down. I swear I don't have a bias for Pomefiore, I just had to fit so much significant plot points in here
Yan! Twst Isekai AU
CW/TW: Spoilers for Chapter 5, suicidal thoughts and ideation + attempt, poisoning, reader is Not Having a Good Time
Pt.1 Peservere, My Player! | Pt.2 Be Still, My Heart! | Pt.3
—
When you finally are somewhat well enough to return to classes, there’s a shift in the air. You don’t even need to hear the murmurs to know that the cultural fair has started, and subsequently, the VDC auditions.
Ace and Grim are already raring to go, but you and Deuce hang back, hesitant, but for different reasons. It was probably because of what happened over winter break, but you’re now reconsidering whether you should continue following the story. But if you don’t, will the game have a bad ending?
Will you not be able to return home?
Epel. Pretty and soft-spoken Epel. You can only extend your pity in silence as the Heartslabyul duo introduce him to you. There’s something off though, because you swear this is your first meeting with the mysterious first year, but he gazes at you as if he’s known you for years.
It’s a great contrast with Vil, whose careless survey turns sharp once they land on you. You can only step back as Grim, Ace and Deuce start the fight you know they will lose. He scoffs and leaves his scathing words for the rest of you, but what you’re not prepared for is the very last venomous stab he has for you.
“To even be hanging out with such a dirty, magicless nobody…Epel, you should know better.”
The insult burns into your skin and it takes everything within you to not tear up. Although you came from another world, no one really said anything bad about you for being magicless—after all, there were plenty of people in Twisted Wonderland who also were just like you. But to be singled out and judged for just that…it stings, especially coming from someone like Vil. For once you feel very self conscious about your existence within Twisted Wonderland.
Ace and Deuce are enraged to the max; both at Vil’s words toward them, but most of all, how dare he speak to you like that? A stare burns into the back of your head(right, in this scene you were not alone). Your pained grimace only spurs them on to practice more rigorously for the contest.
You expected the prickle of unease when Rook makes his appearance behind Leona. Afterall in the game, it’s implied that his senses were beyond a normal human's. What you don't expect is that his eyes are trained on you, and you alone, throughout his whole exchange with the others. No amount of hiding behind Leona stops his piercing gaze. If anything, you would even say his face turned more amused.
Soon enough, the audition day arrives and you only can trail in reluctantly after the excited trio in front of you. Did you really need to be present? Grim was the one doing all the dancing and you don't think you could stomach meeting Vil's judgmental gaze picking you apart again. But it's too late to ditch once the ballroom doors slam open, and the Pomefiore trio struts in with all their sparkling glory.
The audition goes as expected. They dance, Vil sends them out. You don’t even blink when the arrow that carries the acceptance message barely misses the tip of your nose. And then, of course, the pivotal scene of Crowley asking you to give up Ramshackle to be the training grounds for VDC.
The player had no options. In the grand machination of things, Yuu's choices had no sway in the plot, just as how the developers wanted it. You’ve thought about keeping your head down. Don’t deviate, just let the story roll past you.
But you can change that.
No more. For once, you’re going to make a choice for yourself in this godforsaken game. So when you state with a hard grimace that you did not want them at your dorm, there’s only a round of surprised looks and exclamations. Grim side eyes you silently in concern. Vil only raises a skeptical eyebrow. You stand firm. Even if Crowley was offering to improve the Ramshackle dorm, you know what awaits if you agree.
You pray to the Seven that’s the end of it. Then your phone rings and when you pick up, you get a near heart attack when it’s Neige on the other line, asking if he could come over for a visit. By the time you stutter something out, it’s too late, as the bright prince chirps out a ‘thanks! see you soon!’ followed by the beep of the tone.
You can only let out a sigh as you stare at your blank phone screen. Thank goodness the training camp wasn’t at Ramshackle. You can only imagine what Vil’s face would look like if he saw his rival on campus. All this over Neige Leblanche.
But it’s not really him, you think, as you scroll aimlessly through Magicam. It’s about what he threatens for Vil. Is he coming over because you made a choice that changed the course of the story?
Grim scolds you for being so nice for no reason when you end up plodding to let in Neige. He only beams at you cheerily, presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, and floats past your speechless form. You follow after in a daze, going through the motions as you offer him tea and whatever measly snacks you can graze up from your dusty pantry.
It’s embarrassing to sit at your coffee table that still wobbles with its broken leg with someone who is practically the next hot celebrity to Vil. Neige doesn’t seem to mind, only happily asking how you’re doing and what you’ve been up to as he nibbles on half stale crackers and cookies.
“Neige, aren’t you busy? I heard that you’re going to be participating in VDC…” His eyes twinkle at your cautious question you put forward.
“Mmm, yes, but I wanted to see you before I really get busy rehearsing!” His smile is genuine and makes your heart flutter.
The knock on your door turns both of your heads and when you excuse yourself to get it, a foreboding feeling washes over you as you reach for the doorknob.
“Ah, good, you’re here.”
Cold sweat runs down your back and neck as you’re face to face with Vil’s indifferent face. The absolute worst timing ever. As you try to stealthily close the door behind you, he starts to lean in with furrowed eyebrows.
“Why do you look nervous, spudling?”
You’re so terrified that you’re utterly mute and trembling. You’ve remembered when Vil gets angry in the game. You do not want to be the target of his poisonous wrath.
“[First], what’s the matter?” Vil’s eyes immediately narrow at the light voice behind you.
Neige peers over your shoulder curiously, and you think of how this game must loath you at this moment.
"Oh! Vi!" Neige's eyes brighten at seeing his former classmate. On the other hand, a shadow falls over Vil's face.
“So, this is why you refused to have Ramshackle be the training camp so adamantly.” Vil’s frosty voice sends even more tremors down your spine. Before you can open your mouth to retort, he grabs your wrist harshly, tugging you along with no mercy, disregarding Neige's calls to you both.
“Clearly, if you have time to fraternize with the enemy,” Vil’s nose scrunches in distaste as he drags your uncooperative body with your crying protests, “you can scrounge up some time to help us out.”
This must be what they call hell. In the end, it didn’t even matter that you refused to be involved in the VDC preparations. The others are surprised as Vil drags you crying into Pomefiore's ballroom, throwing you onto the floor, before ordering you to 'stop that humiliating display and start the music'. And yet, despite the fact you're clearly here against your will, the rest of them don't do anything, content and even more motivated that you're there to watch them.
Vil's target that originally was on Epel swivels onto you. Your phone confiscated, you and Grim are forced to stay at Pomefiore's dorms with the others, under Vil's (and Rook's, albeit he was more discreet about it) sharp eyes. Even though you're not even a performer, he nitpicks your outfit, your posture, your diet, all with a condescending look upon his face that leaves you feeling like dirt at the end of the day. And Epel, sweet and nice Epel, the one you hoped would use his fiery determination to help you out of the situation…doesn't. You thought that Epel would surely share some sympathy, or Ace and Deuce, maybe even Kalim…but no, they merely chide you for causing trouble and saying that they need you, their manager, to help cheer them on. Weren't they your friends?
Is the game forcing you back on its original path? When you and Grim try to escape the dorms, Rook just somehow manages to catch you both and drag you back to a displeased Vil, who then makes you sleep paralyzed next to him while forcing Grim out to sleep on the cold floor. You're not even free during the day, as you're forcefully escorted straight to Vil by Rook, who somehow manages to appear at the end of your classes.
It’s finally one painful night left alone with Grim in a guest room that a thought creeps into your mind.
Escape doesn't have to be achieved fulfilling a game's story. Doesn't a game also end when the player loses?
It's a terrible thought, you know. Even you are terrified of it. You've already experienced what it's like to be on the brink of death. Smashed by thorns. Crumbled into sand. Drowned under the sea. Choked out of air. What you're planning honestly might be the most merciful way to go.
You're just…so tired. This world that started out fun and exciting has slowly descended to madness. With each chapter, each overblot, you can feel your tether home disintegrating, bit by bit. Memories of home dissipating like ink in water, gone even as you try so hard to catch the trails they leave. And now, more than ever, you're fearful of the time when you will forget why you were fighting so hard to leave Twisted Wonderland. Of who you are.
It's been so long that you felt the night breeze. It's only a matter of time, though, before Rook catches you and places you back within Vil's gilded cage.
"You're inviting me?" You nod as Hornton thoughtfully reads the embossed VDC ticket. He smiles at you, and guilt runs through you, as you know you're using him as a means to end.
Please be there to help them. You pray as he leaves with a spontaneous burst of emerald lights and smoke. Although Vil was your torturer, even you have qualms about leaving him to die in his overblot.
The day of the VDC has you sick and exhausted with no sleep. Thankfully the others don't notice, except for a certain hunter, who only coos at you quietly and slips you a coffee and a pat on the head. But that all changes as Neige makes his appearance with other RSA students and leaps towards you with shining eyes, bypassing Vil completely and hugging you. The warmth in his hug is genuine, but so is the darkness that falls over Vil's eyes on the two of you. Vil's lips curl even more into a distasteful scowl when Neige gives you a parting peck on the cheek. Your coffee slips out of your hands and splashes all over your shoes, but that doesn't matter because Neige Leblanche kissed you, oh my Seven–
"Look at you, you filthy spudling. What are you just standing there gawking for? Close your mouth, you look unsightly." The bitter scolding snaps you back to the present as you register Vil moving you forcefully backstage. Although you're sure he was just trying to save his own reputation and get you out of the way, he doesn't leave. In fact, he takes your shoes and orders Epel to get some new ones. This time, Epel has no problem obeying his housewarden.
The two of them strangely fret over you, before Vil orders you to stay backstage to not embarrass yourself further, as he put it. Suits you just fine. You know exactly what happens next.
It doesn't make it any less horrific to think about as you watch Vil smirk down at Neige.
Just as Vil tempts the idol with the apple juice, you usurp Rook's role of the interloper.
"Vil, you're needed backstage." His face flickers ever so slightly but your face doesn't change. The drink is already in Neige's hands. You wait as he clicks his tongue and leaves to assure his reputation.
It doesn't take much to get the drink into your hands. Neige is too kind. He hands over the drink as soon as you mention you're a little thirsty yourself. The juice inside looks normal, but you know full well what Vil's capability is. You look up into Neige's eyes and sigh.
"Thank you." Pathetic last words. Maybe you should've said something else. But it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing does, really.
That's not true. There's Grim, who's been by your side through thick and thin. And Hornton, your strange friend–what would he say when he saw your collapsed body?
You throw your head back and chug.
It hurts. Seven above, it hurts so much! Your guts feel like it's melting and freezing all at once. The blood in your veins slows to lead and your heart is stabbed with multiple painful needle pinpricks. Your throat swells, and blood dribbles slowly out of your lips. The bottle slips out of your hands and shatters glass fragments everywhere. Neige's panicked and frantic scream echoes and you swear the ground underneath you rumbles.
How lovely, you think, as you stare into Neige's tearful eyes, that such a poison exists…
You close your eyes to Twisted Wonderland to what you hoped to be the last time.
[Game Over]
◇ Continue?
◇ Exit
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I haven't watched that much of One Piece yet, so feel free to disagree with me on this analysis, but there's one thing about people's general interpretation of Sanji as a character that drives me a little nuts. And I'm saying this because even though I'm not very far along, I got spoiled for his backstory (because I refused to stop reading fanfiction even though when I first started I was like, on episode 3).
So before you continue, there are spoilers for Sanji's past.
I think people tend to ignore that the differences between Sanji's demeanor towards men vs towards women likely partially stem from severe trauma. I don't believe his actions are entirely intrinsic, its not like he was born acting like this - nor is it an unchanging immutable fact of his character, despite what a lot of people seem to believe.
And for some context on what prompted this - I'm a sanzo/zosan shipper, so I tend to crawl through the depths of the internet looking for fun little videos and fanarts, and one consistent protest I see with this ship is "Sanji DESPISES men and WORSHIPS women, there's literally no way he could EVER be attracted to men or want to date a man he HATES them."
Which bothers me outside of any arguments about Sanji's sexuality or even about any ships - which I will get to in a second - because that interpretation of Sanji assumes his actions are just there for no reason. Sanji hates men, therefore he hates all men with no exceptions, and he will always hate men. Sanji loves all women, therefore he will always worship every single woman he meets. I dunno, I think it's just a very surface level understanding of who he is, and relies on setting a rule for no reason and just sticking to it, as if it's just a mere quirk of his character with no backing to it.
Sanji's first interaction with any people, was in the form of his biological family, as is the case with most of us. Specifically, his father and brothers, who abused him and didn't even treat him like a person, and his mother and sister, who were the only people that treated him with kindness and saw his humanity. Tbh, he reminds me of the way women who have experienced trauma from men act - a general dislike/disdain and distrust for them (for good reason). And I don't doubt Sanji's overall elevation of women was only hammered home by the fact that his first ever father figure - arguably the first man who's treated him with kindness - teaching him the lesson to always respect women. His very illogical need to never fight women probably partially comes from the events in his life, and because it's not just a two dimensional arbitrary rule established for his character - there can be exceptions and growth.
We already know this, because despite Sanji's general disdain of men as a whole, he is capable of caring/loving men that he personally knows. He loves Zeff, and he loves his nakama - some of whom are MEN. Like, it's right there??? In the same way a woman who has experienced violence at the hands of a man probably still has family and friends or even a significant other that they love and care about that are men.
Like if you're using his demeanor towards the different genders as an "aha got you" argument for why Sanji couldn't possibly be queer, its not as strong of an argument as you think it is.
And if we're operating under the assumption that Sanji partially acts like this because of trauma, it brings up quite a few interesting arguments about his sexuality and potential romantic partners.
Which segways into sanzo/zosan, since admittedly I got into this entire debacle because I was looking into fanart (non-shippers feel free to click away now if you wish, I get that not everyone likes the ship, which is valid).
I don't think Sanji's actions means he couldn't be bisexual. Cause I'm bisexual, and you know what would make me very very keen to ignore all my attraction to one specific gender? If I had multiple instances of that gender hurt me severely. In fact I'm not so certain I don't experience that, because while I haven't had anything super bad happen to me, I hear about things in the news, about friends and family who have been harmed, interacted with men who have talked down to me, and I definitely went through a phase in my younger years where i just refused to consider men as a possibility for a romantic partner, because I was just so so angry. And I'm not saying Sanji doesn't like women in truth, because he absolutely does. He's both attracted to them and likes them. But that doesn't eliminate the possibility that he might also be attracted to men, or other non-binary genders. In fact the more he doth protest, and puts on a show when he sees a pretty woman, the more I'm sure he's in denial. Internalized homophobia can also be a bitch. Contrary to making me think Sanji is absolutely straight, the way he acts in the show actually puts me the opposite way.
I've heard Sanji also has an interesting relationship with gender and may be genderqueer but I don't know as many details about that yet, so I'll skip it for now. But regardless, I look at Sanji and go "I don't think this is a traditionally cishet character."
Of course, this is by far not the only interpretation you can have of Sanji. It could be that he's traumatized and also heterosexual. That's absolutely fine. But my overall point here is that I don't think what we see in canon negates the possibility that Sanji can be queer.
As to why I like Zosan in relation to this:
1. First, a relatively minor thing, I enjoy the sheer amount of bickering/fighting. People hold that up as a reason to not like the ship and I'm like, my dude that's one of the only reasons why I'm here. My love language is annoying the people you love and occasionally having homoerotic battles. duh.
2. Zoro is one of the aforementioned men that Sanji cares about, one of the exceptions to his "men are horrible" thing. Like they argue and fight a lot, sure, but you're not convincing me that they don't love each other. In whatever capacity - platonic or romantic - is up to your interpretation. Sanji loves all of his nakama, that's not really something I see as up for debate.
3. I honestly believe that until Sanji gets a less extreme viewpoint of the different genders - he won't be able to be in a healthy romantic relationship with a woman. For one thing, I know Sanji has self worth issues for days. For another thing, his hero worship for women as a whole - his refusal to fight women, even when they're actively trying to harm him - I don't see that translating well to a relationship. Moreover, I can see it being exhausting for the woman he ends up with, to always be treated like she's made of glass or agreed with, regardless of what she says.
Essentially, he wouldn't really treat that relationship as a partnership between equals, and I think when that happens, you run the risk of the individuals hurting each other, even on accident. Of course, we can also see this as a facet of his character with exceptions and possibility for personal growth. Maybe if he gets with a girl he'll grow and learn and still end up in a good relationship. You could also just interpret his demeanor as over the top flirting that he'll reign back in for an actual serious relationship. Sky's the limit when it comes to fandom interpretations.
But because of this, regardless, I just don't see any potential between the female characters I've met and Sanji. What I do see potential in, is Zoro. Here is actually a character Sanji not only trusts to watch his back, is on equal footing with, but is also unafraid to speak his mind and fight with. He doesn't walk on eggshells or worship the ground Zoro walks on, he has no qualms about defending himself if Zoro crosses a line. That is what a relationship can be built on.
4. Zoro has a contrasting way of interacting with women that I find super interesting. He comes off as the kind of character that doesn't actually care about the gender of the person he's fighting or interacting with - he cares about their ability. Which kinda explains his reactions when he hears Kuina's thoughts about being a girl - and I think Tashigi as well if I'm remembering correctly. There could be a clash of beliefs there that might be quite interesting. I know Zoro and Sanji do fight about how they talk to women, but I meant like something not just played off for laughs. Maybe there is something like that later in the show, who knows, I'm still early on.
5. Again the entire reason why I like enemies to lovers is the need for personal growth. I heard someone say that Zoro would be fine with being in love with a boy if it wasn't Sanji, and Sanji would be fine with being in love with Zoro if he wasn't a boy, and man do I think that's accurate. And here's the crux of the matter - in order for them to get together, they need to get over their hang-ups. Sanji needs to unpack the ten million tons of trauma he keeps repressed under his curly noggin, and Zoro needs to figure out why Sanji rubs him the wrong way. That shit is INTERESTING. People forget that the reason why this trope is so popular is BECAUSE it's a fixer upper - there's work to do. Nothing is perfect. It may even be a little toxic. That's the appeal.
Anyways this is getting TOO LONG. Thanks for reading!
#sanji blackleg; trauma; and his relationship to men and women: an essay#one piece#sanji blackleg#analysis#roronoa zoro#sanzo#zosan#sanji x zoro#zoro x sanji#bisexual sanji blackleg#potentially genderqueer sanji blackleg#zoro and sanji's differing interactions with women are just quite interesting#i headcanon zoro as gay cause that man has never shown interest in a woman from what I've seen so far
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legend is a peacekeeper, not a bully. in this essay i will-
heck yeah i'm doing this for real, let's go.
x
let's take a closer look at his initial list of traits:
"chooses not to be a leader type." so, this is a guy who has the experience and maturity that he could take charge, but has consciously decided to leave it to the elder links. taking responsibility for eight men and boys is a lot, and legend simply doesn't have the energy and/or personality to keep it up at all times.
"the most reliable, you want him on your team." legend is a good person to be around! the others genuinely appreciate his company! i love how this is worded; out of a lineup, legend would be chosen.
x
instead of calling out to wild or trying to physically stop him (both pretty dangerous moves around somebody with a nocked bow and arrow), legend simply shoots wild's arrow out of the sky with his own. which is a pretty sick move itself. sure, now wild will have to replace that arrow, but it's hyrule. you can't go two feet without finding a vendor. anyway, we don't get to see wild's reaction but it must not have been extreme because legend is calm around wind moments later. even when they're still getting to know each other, legend makes the right move.
x
legend just gives away an entire freaking fire rod. that's pretty significant if you ask me. he doesn't trust the others with his secrets, but he's willing to provide tools for the job.
x
this is a playful quip during a lighthearted moment. wild probably knows about the impression that he gives off, and he doesn't seem upset about legend pointing it out.
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then, legend's mood immediately shifts to serious as wild reveals the full extent of his scarring. he settles into a mediator role between wild's casualness and time's concern.
x
as stated before, legend is worried about people breaking his stuff. wild isn't bothered by the veteran's attitude, as he clearly just wants to get in, grab his stuff, and get out.
twilight: "i don't know what his problem is, but you shouldn't let him push you around like that."
sky: "oh it's fine. it's harmless. he just doesn't give a second thought about his attitude is all. trust me, people like him aren't bullies."
twilight: "hmm. that's very true."
x
THIS. COMIC. any time legend is stereotyped as a bully, i just point to this comic. sky says it himself: people like him aren't bullies. i could stop there, but why would i? sky mentions legend's attitude; i think that legend genuinely isn't always aware of the tone of his words. he says what he wants to say, and it can sound blunt but he never means harm by it. also, note legend's body language in the panel i chose. his hand is behind his head, likely touching his neck. that's a self-soothing gesture and a telltale sign of nervousness. whatever legend's saying, he's not as confident as twilight thinks he is. sky sees legend as he truly is, and that's what's important.
x
the prior subject being everybody else fruitlessly guessing at the monsters' motives. it's late at night, the heroes are probably tired, and the conversation is clearly going nowhere. therefore, legend takes it upon himself to lighten the mood. heavy topics can wait for tomorrow; now, the mystery of wild's arrows will make for a sufficient distraction.
x
legend may be used to being a loner, but he pays just as much attention to the others. he frequently joins small conversations and, at the very least, will observe from close by.
x
this is arguably the only time that legend's teasing continues at the expense of somebody else. it's not an isolated attack, though. all of the eldest heroes are in on the bit, except for time who lets it happen with a resigned look on his face.
x
apologies for the lack of legible conversation, but i really wanted to demonstrate the range of emotions that these two go through. legend and warriors bicker like true brothers; tempers flare for a split second before legend realizes that warriors is purposefully making a mountain out of a molehill. they take turns balancing snark and sincerity, and no harm is done from their initial disagreement.
x
once again: THIS. COMIC. legend is a bit disappointed by the thwarted attempt to tease, but wild makes it obvious that this is not the right time or place so legend acts accordingly. legend tries to make amends by asking a question as he returns the diary, and all hints of prior teasing are gone when he offers not one, but two apologies. legend and wild might be different in many ways, but legend knows all too well how it feels to lose a loved one.
x
legend is aware that he's not the best with words. this is both a subtle jab at himself, and at time- since the elder has taken the leader role, he needs to act like it. legend is reminding time that he needs to be better about praising his group after a hard-won battle.
x
by bringing up the topic of magic swords, legend is the one who caused a moment of tension in the first place. when four quickly tries to ease the mood, legend easily agrees.
x
legend loses another few points here: he's too fast to assume the worst, then snaps at wind as tempers run high after a rough battle. thankfully, things seem to be fine again by the time they make camp.
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all right, old man, angst time is over. legend isn't thrilled to have to be the one to speak up, but at least time is done being cryptic and creepy.
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it's not the most ideal subject change, but thinking about ganon is certainly easier than being helpless to wild's plight.
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can we just... appreciate how legend didn't hesitate before stepping through the portal first, alone? if that's not selfless, i don't know what is.
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once again, it's time who doesn't realize that his words are hurtful. legend diffuses the situation, leaving twilight to console sky about the master sword.
x
this argument has clearly been repeated for however long legend and wild have been traveling together. even though legend is likely older than wild, he doesn't attempt to force the champion to go with his plan. even one on one, legend chooses not to take the leader role, simply trying to get wild to listen to reason. when four shows up, wild reignites the bickering before legend sighs and admits defeat. as long as they're actually going somewhere, legend knows that there's no point in arguing anymore.
x
legend is pretty set on making twilight admit that he's the wolf- until they're attacked, and legend's thoughts go right back to the group. he then touches the crystal which causes another distraction, but it's important to note that, yet again, legend quits teasing when there's something more important to focus on.
x
twilight points out that legend's teasing isn't supposed to be hurtful. self-defensive, yes, but legend chooses to be this way- even if it's not ideal, he thinks it'll stop him from getting hurt again. so why would he use his quips to bully the others, if that's exactly what he's avoiding himself?
x
legend isn't used to asking for help, but what's the first thing he does? he says thank you! then sky picks up on his awkwardness and it's the skyloftian's turn to introduce a distraction.
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while the others heroes look nervous or just solemn, legend is embarrassed. twilight and sky were egging four on just as much, but legend still sees it as a personal failing that he didn't act more maturely.
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legend coming in clutch with another small quip that he hopes will cut the tension. time's interrogating the kid, who clearly doesn't want to give away the elder's story. legend lets them carry on with their important conversation, but kudos to him for trying to lighten the mood prematurely.
x
twilight is out for the count with time, sky, and warriors going to help. so, legend acts as the temporary leader even though he's not accustomed to it. nobody listens to him unless he physically drags them away from a fight, but he still tries to keep the team safe.
x
legend so badly wants to check on twilight, but he knows that four is right. his restless energy then returns and he wastes a few minutes arguing with the smaller heroes before storming out of the inn to look for help.
x
and finally, we have the rare instance of legend wanting to be the peacekeeper, but not knowing what to say. he hasn't left twilight's side since he recovered, but that doesn't mean that he knows how to react to wild's poking at midna. thankfully, wild backs off and legend is able to remind twilight to save his worries until he has his full strength back.
x
so, there you have it! hopefully that was more than enough proof to convince you that legend is a pretty great guy, not the bully that people are so set on making him out to be.
#linked universe#lu#linked universe legend#lu legend#lu analysis#making a list as i go of things i appreciated about legend:#floofy bangs (wanna touch)#forearm waow *victorian maiden mode activates*#soft smile <333#that skirt tho#THAT SKIRT THO 👀#power gloves helloooo#side profile hoooo boy#PINK HAIR BAYBEE#SAD EMO PINK BOI *sobs*#HIS FACE I FORGOT HOW EXPRESSIVE HE IS#IN CONCLUSION I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM
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Heads or Tails
Summary: Ghost has undergone a lot of changes recently, many of which you find concerning. So you concoct a plan to try to bring the old Ghost back, the first and most crucial step: getting rid of that new mask.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Word Count: ~4.0k
Warnings: language, slight physical aggression, some uncool boundary crossing, my attempt to sound Bri'ish
A/N: Hello! So this is a new endeavor for me! I've never written for Ghost or CoD/MW before, but I've recently become obsessed with interested in the characters, and so wanted to give it a go. I was rushing a little to get this out, but I really hope you enjoy! :)
"Bet it's a fetish or somethin'."
Your neck nearly snaps as you swivel to the left, your eyes bugging at the Scot's words.
"Probably humiliation kink… Maybe breath play," Soap ponders aloud, eyes trained across the room pensively.
"Nah, mate. I reckon it's a bad trim, or some bad ink," Gaz adds from your right, making you pivot in your seat. "What'd you think? Tribal or teardrops?" He gestures to his own face, attention also drawn straight ahead.
As the two go back and forth positing ideas, your own eyes are finally steered to the figure in question. This conversation, like seemingly all the ones as of late, is centered around one topic and one topic only.
That damn mask.
While Ghost's signature masks are nothing new to the members of the 141, this one in particular has had you all scratching your heads for weeks. Much like his other balaclavas, this one is dark with a contrasting white skull, only this mask has one minor addition that none of the others have ever included: A big, bouncy puffball right on the top of his head.
When you first saw it, you honestly thought it was a joke; you were on a mission in the tundra, after all. But as you started to laugh, the sharp, deathly glare the Lieutenant gave you had you immediately snapping your mouth shut, averting your eyes out of respect.
Where he got that mask, you hadn't a clue, but you figured it would be just a one time thing anyway. However, that assumption turned out to be entirely wrong as Ghost continued to wear it again and again, no matter the mission conditions. Not only that, but he's also been exclusively wearing it around the base too; that is, whenever you do see him around the base.
It's been weeks now and you haven't spotted him without that ridiculous mask once. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he wears it 24/7. But that can't actually be the case unless he likes waterboarding himself with every shower, which if he does, then good for him, you guess.
Though you have a lot of questions you'd like to ask the Lieutenant, the one eating at you the most is why. Why the switch up? Why the obsession with this specific mask? Why all these little changes you've noticed about him over the past several weeks?
Because that's the thing. Beyond the pom pom, there's something about Ghost that's been… different. Better, even, in some regards, but there's also been a massive decline in others.
Out in the field, he's shown significant improvement. His aim has been sharper, his knife skills cleaner, hell, even his walk has been more sure-footed. While Lieutenant Riley has always been the cream of the military crop, for the last several weeks, he's been on another level.
Off the field, however, is a different story entirely. Instead of the man you thought you knew, it's like you hardly recognize Ghost anymore. He's been much more curt, closed off, and dare you say, a downright cunt to you all, and that doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of all the other discrepancies you've noticed with his character.
Like why has he been avoiding the team much more than he ever used to, or why does he immediately shut down any attempts at getting close with him? He's never been an incredibly open or approachable man per se, but it's like he's gone full blown antisocial recluse now.
The sudden switch in his behavior just didn't make sense to you, so you tried casually bringing it up to Price one day, hoping maybe he had an explanation that would help piece things together. In response, however, your Captain simply shrugged his shoulders, dubbing the mask Ghost's "good luck charm" that must've just gone to his head.
While you didn't necessarily have a better answer yourself, Price's conclusion wasn't good enough for you to accept as the truth. Maybe a lucky rabbit's foot or good luck coin or whatever could explain away Ghost's overnight tactical improvements, but it didn't answer the why of everything else.
Why has Ghost changed so much?
As you reflect, the sound of Gaz and Soap's continued discussion slowly brings you back to the present, making you blink out of your stupor.
"...been acting all off. Like he's… paranoid or something," you hear Gaz say regarding Ghost. "Like, the other day for instance, when we got dropped off back at base, I swear, as soon as his boots hit the ground, he was booking it like he was about to get shot."
Well, that's certainly a relief. Not that Ghost is acting strange, but that at least you're not the only one to notice.
"I thought maybe he was just sensitive to the floodlights – those things were ruddy blinding that night – but when I tried to catch up and ask him, you'd think I was chasing him from how fast he ran," Gaz adds.
Though that's a bit unexpected on Ghost's part, you suppose it's not all that uncharacteristic anymore. He's been increasingly aloof nowadays, and while you're not totally sold on Gaz's paranoia claims, you definitely see the cause for concern.
"Y'know, I think you're on to somethin'," Soap agrees with Gaz's conclusions. "Just the other night, 'round two in the mornin', I caught him rummagin' around the kitchens like he was afraid to get caught."
"Hold on," Gaz interjects, craning his head to face the other Sergeant. "What were you doing in the kitchens at two a.m.?"
"Mind yer business, that's what," Soap huffs, waving his hand dismissively. "But anyway, even then he was still hidin' beneath that bloody mask. I cannae even remember that last time I saw him without it," he says, almost dejectedly.
You can't remember the last time you did either, though you're not as beat up about it as Soap is. The man seems to have a certain fascination with staring at his Lieutenant's bare face that you can't say you totally relate to.
As Soap continues thinking to himself of when last he saw Ghost without his mask, he suddenly snorts, smiling as he tells you, "Y'know, I once tried to break in his room and steal that thing while he slept, but the lad has some unpickable locks on his door, I tell ya," he chuckles.
"Oi, you mental or something?" Gaz's voice pitches up. "Trying to steal his mask? You'd be lucky if he didn't string you up by your bollocks just for thinking it."
Soap scoffs, peeking over from the corner of his eye. "Oh, come on. Like you've never?"
"I'd like to keep my boys securely attached, thank you." Gaz shifts his weight at the uneasy thought, grimacing slightly.
That has Soap turning fully in his seat, making to confront Gaz head on. "So you're tellin' me you like the new mask? That you don't want to see the fucker gone?"
Gaz shakes his head, mirroring Soap as he similarly turns to face him. "I didn't say that. I'm just as tired of looking at it as you are."
At that, Soap throws his hands up, letting out an exasperated breath. "So let's do somethin' about it!" he exclaims, calling back to his attempted theft.
"Like what?" Gaz huffs. "You want me to ask nicely? 'Ghost, would you please lose the mask? There's only room for one ugly hat around here, and Price has already filled that niche. So sorry.'"
As the two Sergeants continue to bicker over the top of your head, you keep your eyes on Ghost who's still in the room. Thankfully, he appears to be completely oblivious to the animated discussion happening around you. You don't think he'd enjoy hearing how his teammates want to throw his mask in an on-fire garbage bin.
Gradually, your attention starts to drift away from the conversation at hand until you're right back at your earlier conundrum: trying to figure out Ghost's deal.
Why has he been acting so different as of late? What could have brought on such a drastic change in his behavior? As you think, Soap and Gaz's words lightly filter through your mind, and suddenly, the answer becomes blatantly obvious.
What's the common denominator in all of this? What seems to be the root cause of all this discourse? It all comes down to one thing and one thing alone.
That fucking puffball mask of his.
Ever since he got that new mask, there's been a never ending stream of changes with Ghost, most of which you'd argue are for the worse. You know it's silly to cast blame on such a normally inconsequential scrap of fabric, but at this moment, there's nothing else that makes sense in your mind.
Maybe the change is because his brain is being squeezed too tight or maybe he's been having a constant bout of heat stroke these last few weeks. Whatever the reason, you can see how wearing that mask has negatively affected him, and you're eager to see that rectified.
"I've got it!" you pipe up for the first time, interrupting the Sergeants who are still verbally going at it. You look between them both before once more bringing your gaze back to Ghost. "I know what to do," you say confidently.
Though the old Ghost you knew has been M.I.A. recently, you don't think he's truly gone, not permanently anyway. He's just been squirreled away for the time being, trapped in a cage of woven black thread. You just hope that, with a little luck and a lot of planning, soon…
You'll be able to set him free again.
~~~~~
You peek impatiently around the corner, seeing Gaz standing at the end of the hall. When he notices you, he shakes his head, turning back to keep watch like directed.
Annoyed, you check your phone again. Soap said they were on their way five minutes ago. You know it's a maze of passageways between here and there, but still, they should've shown up by now.
At its core, your plan is simple, but so many pieces have to come together for you to pull it off successfully. One screw up and it all comes toppling down, and you doubt you'll ever get a chance at a redo.
Another 30 seconds pass before you're checking on Gaz again, the man keeping a silent sentinel against the wall. The trap's been set, all you have to do is sit back and wait. But you're not sure how much longer you can handle until you go mad.
Just as you're about to text Soap for confirmation again, Gaz perks up, turning and nodding over at you. Before he can be spotted by anyone else, he slips into the room at his back, quickly closing the door shut.
Finally! It's time. Operation Unmask is a go.
You stoop to pick up one of the items at your feet, counting down from 20 as you hear a pair of heavy boots slowly approach your position. When you finally reach zero, you suck in your breath. It's now or never, baby.
Right before the figure can descend on your hiding spot, you pop out around the corner, colliding directly with the man you'd expected to find. Ghost grunts in surprise at the blunt contact, that damn pom pom on his head bouncing as he stumbles slightly.
"Oh, sorry!" you call out innocently. "Didn't see you there." It's not exactly a lie. You struggle to peer around the tower of boxes in your arms, stacked high enough that you can hardly see a thing ahead.
Ghost grunts again as he takes in the scene you've laid out, thankfully seeming to accept it at face value. "Careful," is all he says, moving to continue in the direction he was headed.
"Oh, uh, actually—?" you stop him before he can escape. "Sorry, but… Do you think you could…?" You shift the boxes deliberately in your hold, hinting at the favor you mean to ask. "If you don't mind. They're really heavy."
This plan all hinges on whether or not Ghost will take the bait. Though he's been less than charitable recently, in the past, he used to be quite helpful to you in particular. That's why you're the one who had to ask for his help. You knew that anyone else, he'd decline immediately.
But you can tell Ghost is hesitant to agree to assist you now, not only because of his recent change in character, but because he was currently preoccupied.
"Price is waitin' for m—" he starts to give the excuse Soap had fabricated to lure him out of his room.
"Please," you cut him short, pretending your situation is dire. "It'll be quick. I just need to get these to my office." That's where you pulled them from initially, filling them with whatever junk you could find to weigh them down. Soap and Gaz weren't thrilled to have to lug them all the way over here, but you had to make them heavy to be convincing, you'd told them.
As if on cue, out of the corner of your eye, you see Soap finally make his appearance at the end of the hall. He turns the corner Ghost had come from earlier, having successfully tailed the Lieutenant all the way from his room undetected. Gaz's timing is also stellar as not a second later, he carefully opens and exits the door Soap passes by.
Luckily, Ghost doesn't seem to notice the two Sergeants quietly lurking behind him – a blessing since, sometimes, you swear he has a pair of eyes in the back of his head.
He considers you for a moment, staring at the stack in your hands, glancing at the others still by your feet. Though you can sense he's warring with himself, another light 'please' from your lips has him caving with a sigh.
As Ghost bends to grab one of the box towers, that's when Soap really makes his move. The Scot creeps forward until he's within arm's length of Ghost, hand outstretching as he reaches towards the Lieutenant's head. Just before he can close his fingers around the mask – intending to snatch and run, the fastest of you three – Ghost does something that surprises you all.
Without even looking, Ghost suddenly jerks away from Soap's grasp, ducking at an almost unnatural speed and angle. At first, it's like he doesn't even realize what's happened himself, but then he turns and sees Soap standing there, hand caught right in the cookie jar.
"What the fuck d'you think you're doing, MacTavish?" Ghost asks roughly.
Soap blinks dumbly, shocked by Ghost’s quick reaction. "S-Sir," he stutters, his brain trying to catch up with his mouth. "Just… thought… I… saw a piece of lint," he makes up the fib on the spot, then boldly reaches towards the mask again.
Once more, Ghost evades his reach, leaning far back like he's in The Matrix. He growls and slaps Soap's arm down. "You wanna keep that hand, Sergeant?" he rumbles.
In response, all Soap can do is nod his head, baffled into a state of silence.
"Then fuck off," Ghost warns him not to try again. He then nods towards the pile at your feet. "Or better yet, make yourself useful and pick up a box."
Still in a trance, Soap immediately complies with the Lieutenant's order. The two grab a respective stack, Ghost directing Soap to walk ahead as he no longer trusts him where he can't see him.
Fuck! This is not at all what you envisioned. This train is rapidly going off the tracks, heading straight over a cliff.
But thankfully, you have a potential backup in place, and Gaz quickly makes his way over as he sees things running amok.
"Ghost?" he captures the attention of the growingly irritated man, who stops and turns at the sound of his voice. "Uh… your shoe's untied," Gaz mumbles once he's under the intimidating gaze of Ghost, and your eyes fall shut at the lame excuse.
Christ, this is all going to shit. There's no way you're going to pull this off.
Somehow, though, Ghost chooses to check Gaz's statement, and he cranes his head down to inspect his boots. "No," is all he says, seeing his laces clearly intact. But before he can stand back up, head still down turned, Gaz takes his opportunity before it can slip away.
Gaz tries to grab for the bloated puffball wobbling in his face, but just like before, Ghost seems to have a sixth sense for it. Again, he bends out of the way, spectacularly agile, and shoots a glare at the Sergeant's gall.
"You out of your fuckin' mind? What's gotten into you lot?" Ghost accuses the three of you, turning to look at you all, becoming increasingly suspicious of what you're doing.
Shit fuck ass balls. You need to act fast. He's starting to catch on.
Panicked, you do the first thing that pops into your head, dropping the boxes to the floor with a thunderous thump. Ghost's head snaps in your direction, eyes wide in confusion, and they only widen more as you purposefully knock the boxes out of his hands too.
"Whoops!" you exclaim and swiftly crouch down, starting to pick up all the bits and bobs that spilled out.
Gaz realizes your intent and quickly follows suit, stooping down to help you clean up the mess. It's a few seconds before Soap catches on as well, and then all three of you are on your hands and knees, crawling around like a pack of vermin.
"The fuck's the matter with you bunch?" Ghost exhales, unable to make sense of the unfolding chaos. Nevertheless, though, he begrudgingly lowers himself down, electing to assist despite his growing skepticism.
As you go about cleaning up the mess you made, you try to covertly catch the eyes of your accomplices. Without words, you ask them which one is going to make a move, who'll grab for the mask next, but both seem a little reluctant at trying their hand again.
Ugh, whatever. You'll just do it yourself then. Really, how hard can it be?
Slyly, you creep around until you have a good vantage on Ghost, his back partially turned to you. You edge closer and closer until you're nearly bumping into him, pretending to still pick up the items scattered around. Then slowly, so incredibly slowly, you raise your hand up, reaching towards the back of Ghost's mask. Just as your fingers graze the fabric, pulling it up a mere centimeter, Ghost jolts, springing to his feet with a start.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he yells.
"What's wrong with you?!" you fire back, your frustrations boiling over. You pop up to mimic his stance, throwing all stealth to the wayside as you figure the jig is up anyway. "We're just trying to help you."
"Help me?" he sneers. "Like hell. You're out to fuckin' get me."
There he goes again with the paranoia Gaz proposed. Though maybe, in this instance, he's not entirely wrong.
"You think we haven't noticed the differences with you? How much you've changed recently?" you continue. "We can see what that thing's doing to you. You'd be better off without it."
Ghost shakes his head in wild perplexity. "The hell are you on about?"
"The mask, L.T.," Soap rises to his feet. "Take it off," he implores.
"Who the fuck d'you think you are giving me orders, Sergeant?"
"It's just a mask, sir, and we've all seen you without one before," Gaz joins the showdown. "What have you got to lose?"
Ghost looks between each of you angrily, pointing an accusatory finger at you all in turn. "You're all way out of line! Get the hell back," he urges as you three start to close in.
"Why d'ya always hide from us now? I thought we were friends, L.T." Soap reaches forward, his hand immediately swatted away.
"Ghost, really, the thing's a bloody eyesore. Just get rid of it." Gaz tries his luck, only to be met with the same result.
Again and again, you all try dislodging the mask, descending on Ghost like a pack of rabid animals. With each swipe and stretch, he expertly dodges your attacks, bending and batting you away like pests.
"Quit fuckin'—!"
"Just let me—!"
"Oh, for cryin' out loud!"
The scene is total, unbridled chaos – voices raised, arms entangled, rubbish littered all over the ground. You three push forward on Ghost until he's backed into the wall, trapped with no way out. He fights and fights, the pom pom jostling around perilously, until finally, bitterly, he's overcome.
Soap gets his fingers hooked under an edge of the mask, and he yanks, pulling it all the way off. For the first time in weeks, Ghost's face is revealed to you all, and you'd be ecstatic if not for one detail that has you freezing.
Is that a…?
No, it can't be. You must be imagining things.
Actually, that looks kind of real. Holy shit, that's definitely real!
Oh my God! Is that a—?
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT?!"
You, Gaz, and Soap all jump back in horror at the sight before you: a plump, little, white rat nestled atop Ghost's head. The rodent seems just as shocked to see you as you are it, and it lets out a small squeak as you lock with its beady eyes, tiny fingers clinging to Ghost's hair.
"Aaaahhh!" Soap unleashes a girlish shriek, dropping the mask as he rears back.
"What the fuck, Ghost? No really, what the fuck?!" Gaz asks dumbfounded, hand coming up to cover his mouth.
Before anyone has a chance to fully process what they're seeing, the rat tugs on Ghost's hair, moving him to scoop up his mask from the floor. He's guided to shove the fabric back on his head, perhaps a little more roughly than intended, because you hear a pathetic squeak ring out as he does.
He points his index finger at you in a threatening manner, the holes over his eyes slightly askew. "Not a word," he grumbles, spinning on his heel. "Not one fuckin' word!"
And just like that, he takes off down the hall, a fat, pink tail sticking out from under the back of his mask. It takes a moment before you even realize your mouth is still wide open, and you close your jaw with an audible thud.
Vaguely, you hear Soap muttering behind you, near tears as he cowers against the wall. "Steamin' Jesus, I think I touched it! Did— Did it bite me? Am I bleedin'? I think I'm bleedin'!" he blubbers hysterically.
"Nah, you're alright, mate! You're alright!" Gaz tries to comfort him, unsuccessful as he’s also rattled.
As the two huddle together in the corner, you're left staring after Ghost's rapidly fleeing figure, trying to pick up the pieces of your newly fractured reality.
That… was…
Honestly, you're not sure what the hell that was.
A rat? That rides on Ghost's head? Controlling his every move and muscle? You guess that explains a few things about his behavior recently, but mostly, it just leaves you with more questions than answers.
Where the hell did he get that thing? How the fuck does it work? Why did he even think to test it out in the first place?
Actually, on second thought, no, you don't want to know. You've seen enough for one day, or really, one lifetime.
At the start of this, you thought you had such a great plan to unveil – one that would simply reveal the "true" Ghost again. You didn't realize that in the process of trying to set him free, you would release a whole other beast, literally. And while at your core you still believe your intentions to help were good, you realize now that, perhaps…
Some things are better off hidden.
__________
A/N: Squeak squeaker squeaky squeak! [Translation: Happy April Fools!]
It figures that my first venture in this fandom is a crack fic. I expected nothing less lmao. But anyway, I'd love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley fanfiction#simon riley fanfic#ghost mw2#cod mw2
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One Piece Characters w/ an S/O who celebrates Ramadan pt. 2
Characters: Zoro, Ace, Mihawk (all requested, thank you <3)
Rating: SFW
Notes: Muslim!GN!Reader. So yeah, obvy talking about religious beliefs and practices- if those make you uncomfortable please feel free to skip <3
A/n: cultural notes at the bottom in case you didn't know/just curious about some of the terms here.
Part 1 here
Zoro
At first, he’s confused why you would do such a thing, but when you explain the significance of the month, he’s pretty impressed.
It’s a test of resolve, discipline, and reflection- and, well, Zoro’s always looking for a new way to test himself and get better.
No eating and drinking water? Well, he can do that, no problem. It also makes him want to see how far he can push himself in his exercise regiment without having to drink.
His drinking though, well, it definitely hits him a bit harder than he would like to admit. He does have the urge to just guzzle three barrels of rum but he’s tryna be good, so he’ll do something to manage.
Honestly the type to sleep all day or be working out when fasting. I don’t think he’d bother to get up for suhur either, he just sleeps through it and says he’ll deal with it later.
This month will be where he is very reflective and open about his feelings or emotions with you. He’s pretty good about clearing his mind and meditating usually, but especially now he will be even more conscious about his reflections. It actually surprised you how much he was holding in.
Takes this very seriously, 10000%, doesn’t let anyone or anything break his concentration or yours.
Ace
Similar to his younger brother, Ace doesn’t know much about Ramadan, and the idea baffles him.
But, he’s way more open to learning and trying to understand it better.
He’s still failing immediately, poor guy.
If he’s not shoveling down food in the afternoon or falling asleep right in the middle of eating, he’s probably gonna be casually drinking and going ‘oops, I forgot’ all day.
All day. Almost every thirty minutes. Marco is thinking of checking if Ace is suffering from early onset dementia.
OKAY LISTEN, IT’S THE ATTEMPT. THE ATTEMPT WAS THERE!!!
And even if his ‘fasting’ is uh, pretty shoddy, he does do his best to take care of you and support you (even if he’s about to offer you food or water every few minutes).
He’s very intrigued by the reasoning for it, so he often asks you questions. Sure, he truthfully doesn’t have the fortitude to resist eating until sunset, but your devotion does make him proud of you. He feels so lucky and grateful he’s got such a cool partner.
Likes watching you pray or read. He often smiles when he watches you and thinks he’s starting to get into it when he realizes he actually is reflecting alongside you. Definitely makes him appreciate your relationship more and your strength.
Mihawk
Much like his protege, Mihawk is captivated by the concept of Ramadan. Sure, he’s heard of it or read about it in his books, but he never understood it. Having you there to explain it and give more insight and rules makes him appreciate it.
As the greatest swordsman, Mihawk is always looking for ways to appease his boredom as well as continue his discipline. He’s incredibly strict on himself, so he will immediately go all in during Ramadan with you.
The house husband in him truly shines this month, he’s extra careful about how he prepares your meals and makes sure you are getting more hydration and nutrition than before. Likes to cook you fulfilling meals that won’t make you sick after fasting all day.
Yes, he is still farming while fasting. No, he will not admit he is about to die of thirst. But also, that makes him desire to overcome that weakness and work harder to not need water while working outside. So, uh… good for him?
Mihawk is also a man who enjoys reading, so he takes the month of Ramadan seriously as a chance to read the Quran with you. (Omg, reading the nightly juz with him <3)
Mihawk will learn how to pray, nothing will stop him from doing so, like I said, he’s all in, you’re doing it, he’s doing it. I think he will end up becoming more strict and knowledgeable than you in a few days.
Again like his protege, giving up alcohol was probably a bit of a challenge (but again, Mihawk loves one), but he tends to substitute his cravings for wine with either a simple glass of water, tea, or even regular grape juice.
He won’t admit his reflections out loud majority of the time, but it’ll be subtle glances at you or his lips turning up into a smile while he mentally thinks how grateful he is to have you and to share this with you <3.
Cultural Notes:
Ramadan is the 9th month of the Islamic calendar, which is based on the lunar cycle- hence why you’ll often see debates on when Ramadan starts/ends or why it begins about a week or two earlier than before, since the lunar calendar is shorter than the solar calendar (or Gregorian, the one we normally use).
Muslims fast for a month from dawn until sunset (there are restrictions of course) so no water or food from that time.
Sahur/Suhur/Suhoor: the meal you eat before the dawn comes.
Iftar: the meal you eat to break your fast at sunset.
Juz: There are other words for it but basically, the Quran can be divided into 30 sections to be read in a month or so. Generally this how some people section it off, and during Ramadan, it's seen as a very good thing to read 1 juz a day. By the time Ramadan is done, you probably have read the full Quran.
#one piece#one piece x reader#x reader#reader insert#one piece hcs#dracule mihawk#mihawk#dracule mihawk x reader#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro#portgas ace x reader#ace x reader#portgas d ace
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Gold Rush
In which Spencer Reid believes meeting you could only be
explained by something bigger under the works.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!eader
From the moment he met you Spencer just knew. He was suddenly overcome with a deep certainty that transcended his skepticism about love at first sight. For him, it was more than just a fleeting moment; it was an incandescent passionate resonance that developed when he first saw you. Dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin can only explain so much of his feelings.
He can't sleep on plane ride, looking at the sunset as the clouds fold onto each other he finds himself reminiscing about you.
There was much said, yet so much unsaid.
"Do you believe in fate?" you had asked, looking up at him.
Just breathing and staring into each other's eyes, you two were curled up together in bed. Spencer likes making eye contact with you, even though he's never been good at it. Furthermore, he doesn't even enjoy shaking hands, so he's not sure how on earth he's managed to intertwine himself with you.
Spencer chuckled skeptically, "Fate? I'm inclined to attribute this meeting to statistical probability and our friends' matchmaking skills."
You smiled back at him, his skepticism didn't seem to bother you, instead you seemed to intertwine your emotions so easily with your beliefs.
He studies you and realizes you don't mind your different perspectives. "People just need something to anchor them Doctor Reid."
He's come to the realization that he needed more of what you called him, Doctor Reid.
You continue, "Since there is so much evil in the world, I find myself wanting to cling to something greater. I'm sure you see a lot of incomprehensible things."
He pauses for a second then says
"Randomness exists because it is impossible to foresee anything with 100% accuracy, at least not in the way we see the world. Yes, although there is randomness at the level of human cognition. I don't think there is any kind of "mover" or "fate." Have you heard of the theory absurdism? It's the idea held by philosophers that there is no purpose or reason in the universe. It claims that people go into conflict with the outside world when they search for significance."
You smile at him again, the same shy smile that has been making Spencer weak all day.
“I get what you mean, but I like to believe that the universe has a purpose for me. It's as though every moment unfolds with meaning. But, recently, I've found that it’s boring to attribute everything to fate. There's a certain beauty in meeting someone and deliberately choosing them with all your intention."
This time Spencer smiles back at you, it doesn't miss him that you don't interrupt his ramblings. You're so easy to talk to he thinks. He can just get lost in your conversations.
He pushes a piece of hair out of your face “Would you say our meeting was fate?"
You paused for a second.
Spencer can't seem to read you as much, but he can infer that you didn't know, he smiles to himself as you're the one speechless this time.
Spencer likes to think the universe is devoid of meaning he doesn't give much thought to the meaning behind things, but after meeting you he finds himself questioning things.
Despite the strangeness you feel familiar to him, and your perfume still lingers in his car on the way home. He's racking his brain trying to remember what your laugh sounds like.
He likes to be in the present, but with you, you linger like a tattoo kiss. He closes his eyes and there you are again with your smile.
The lines between fate and reason began to melt in his head, as there are very few moments he's found himself dumbfounded by the nature of things.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader
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