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#and now my brain has to live with its choices
asytho · 5 months
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tunapesto · 10 months
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picking a course makes me want to cry and throw up so bad
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hikeyzz · 3 months
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i've been sick now for over a month. between my kidneys and stomach i have been in constant pain and discomfort for more than a month straight. fuck. it's been some of the worst, most debilitating pain of my life. which says a lot coming from someone who has lived with chronic pain for the last eight years and had two throat surgeries last fall. everyone in my life is concerned and doing what they can for me, but they can't do much. i can't eat regularly, i have major problems accepting help from others, and i hate people seeing me unwell. so instead everyone just loves me as best they can with calls and kind notes. but when i say that i'm tired of being sick and don't want to do it anymore everyone acts like i'm crazy. would YOU be able to survive this shit without breaking?? sudden illness on top of chronic illness AND mental illness?! don't answer that it'd make me feel worse. i'm just trying to survive this. i am trying and trying and trying and trying and trying and in the end i am still just drained and defeated.
i know i sound like a classic bitch in crisis but i'm not. i'm getting more and more sick every year. i have to question what is worth fighting for and what isn't. i cannot spend my whole life being sick or recovering from being sick. i won't.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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#oof. it as been a very very long day. so much talking. all day talking and interviews#and so far my feelings are mixed. bc it is a smaller university and its underfunded and cost of living is kinda high#and the town is small and isolated. HOWEVER#the faculty feels like a strong community and theyre all amazing scientists who choose to b there bc the quality of life is so high#they seem extremely supportive and the fact its small means that i could probably get around better given my intense anxiety around driving#and i could literally just walk to hiking paths rather than having to drive way out. and its fucking so beautiful. the clouds r gorgeous#bc theyre all conpressed by the mountains around this lil valley. also the potential advisor seems amazing. the grad students have good#things to say and hes excited that im interested in the things im interested in. and i talked to an astrobiology guy and he was like u#should apply for X grant and i would b happy to help u and the advisor is a former nasa post doc so he has nasa astrobiology connections.#so those r some pretty great things. i mean. of the schools im looking at this one would prob be the best for my brain tbh#i mean the uk one is too rigid in structure and i cant fuck around so much as at a us school. and the east coast on is hard to say no to bc#its a good school with lots of funding and opportunities to b creative but i would have to hard core get my shit together and hes quite#hands off. and id b living in the city which sucks. so like. i mean this school is kinda looking like the best choice for me. definitely#the healthiest. i mean assuming i dont fuck it up and get the offer after this weekend. but yeah. i mean im not fully in love i think#and the idea of commiting to 5years here is terrifying but id get a lot of support that i dont think ive really ever had. not that my#current boss isnt great but our lab is kinda disconnected. and i really fit in perspective wise in my interests. and id get to work at#[redacted] national park. which is so cool that i might have to unredact it if i end up here bc its so fucking next level#not that the national park i have access to now isnt awesome but. like its next level awesome and i could maybe wiggle may way into maybe#some arctic systems and i bet i could get my current boss to send me desert samples. so yeah i could def see a life here#but fuck i dont want roomates with all my heart. y does it have to b so expensive for a trash apartment? bleh#god. im so tried. so much talking. but a good day. and im going skiing tomorrow bc like thats a thing here lol#unrelated
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lynx-tales · 2 years
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Maybe….unlimited junk food and video games is bad for me?
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seresinhangmanjake · 2 months
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Super Soft!Simon Riley x reader - You're terrified that Simon's not making safe choices when he's on deployment, so he comforts you. (fluff, allusion to future smut (barely), drunk johnny, cod inaccuracies)
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Johnny recounts the tale of their hard-earned achievement—a victory, as they have deemed it—with a number of beers in his system that you’ve long stopped counting. As he sits at your kitchen table, he is looser, giddier, freer with his words, and spares no detail of your boyfriend’s selfless acts of bravery during their last deployment. Acts that got him shot at; one of those bullets finding their home.
You’d be proud of him, if not for the fear that built up over months from recurring nightmares and an overactive imagination—all of which had you losing the love of your life. But that’s not out of character. You think about yourself, you think about your boyfriend, before you think about the lives he saves when he’s away from you. Maybe it’s wrong, or unfair, but you can’t help it.
While Simon’s work is not something he ever kept secret, you don’t need the reminder that the preservation of his life is not always his priority. It can't be. There are other factors that dictate his future. He has a team, people who depend on him. He has responsibilities and orders to follow. Control is often snatched from his fingertips. And so, what does that mean for the two of you? 
You don’t care to think about it. Not tonight. Not at midnight from a friend who should have passed out on your couch hours ago. So you stretch, yawn, and excuse yourself for bed before your brain implodes from any more of Johnny’s ramblings.
Simon knows. He spent the night squeezing your hip each time you tensed in his lap at Johnny’s words, and now, as you stand to head to the bedroom, he holds onto your hand until your fingers slip from his. Deep brown eyes are filled with guilt and apology and all you can offer in return is a slight upturn of the lips that barely qualifies as a smile.
Away from the men, you cry in your and Simon’s shared bed, waiting for him to encourage Johnny to the couch. There's a few more loud laughs, a whine when Simon cuts off his friend's alcohol supply, and then a final groan of acceptance as you hear the springs of your couch squeak under the weight of a muscled body. It’s only when the animated snores of your drunk friend reach your ears that the door to your room creaks on its hinges.
Simon’s footsteps are thumps muffled by carpeting. From your peripherals you see him shed his clothes as he moves to you. Shoes, then t-shirt, then jeans, until he's in his underwear and settling onto the mattress behind you. 
His arm slips under yours around your waist and he tugs your back to his chest, into the cocoon of warmth. 
“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?” he asks, gruff and thick. His voice rumbles from his chest, vibrating against your spine as his breath brushes your ear. “That my life is over.
“Everything I want, everything I need—none of it matters anymore. All because of one look at a woman who was too busy with her friends to notice me,” he says. “I thought, I'm ruined now. If you leave this bar right this second, I won't be able to forget you. And if you don't leave, I can't ever let you go. I didn't know your name and you had me ready to change my whole world for you.”
You sniffle but don't bother to wipe away the tear that escapes. “That's insane, Si,” you whisper.
“It is,” he agrees, pressing a kiss just under your ear. “But it happened. I let you in and you latched on to my entire existence like this beautiful, little parasite. Just like I wanted you to. My life ended and it became our life. 
“I don't take a single step without considering you. Not here and not there. So if you think I don't try to be careful when I'm gone, you're wrong,” he tells you. “I try for you. I try for us.”
Yet, ‘trying’ means he still gets injured; he gets another circular scar to add to the healed knife slashes and the burned patch on his upper arm. ‘Trying’ is not always about picking the safer of two options, but about optimizing luck, which is rare enough as it is. And that terrifies you.
“What if you step wrong not knowing that it's wrong?” you ask. “What if you think it's right and then you're gone? You can't tell me that will never happen.”
Simon sighs. “No, I can't. But you trust me, don't you?”
Turning in his arms—your nose nearly nudging his—you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb along his cheekbone. “Of course I do.”
“Then don't mourn me while I'm still here, love,” he breathes against your lips. “Can you do that for me?”
You nod, because you’d do anything for him. 
“Good girl.” Simon smiles lightly and slides his palm from your back down the length of your arm. He squeezes your fingers, then moves further, tucking his hand into the front of your underwear. “My girl,” he whispers and presses his lips to yours.
A/N: i dont usually write different stuff but i felt like it so i did
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wileys-russo · 3 months
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new alessia x reader series sneak peak:
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UNC!lessi x DUKE!reader slow burn enemies to lovers vibes based around this request here
"where are you going?" you looked up from your phone at the blondes voice, raising an eyebrow where she lay on her bed. "and you care because?" you questioned sarcastically as her baby blue eyes narrowed.
"just hoping each time you walk out that door one day you just magically don't come back." the english woman grinned as you flipped her off, grabbing your toiletries bag and a change of clothes.
"i wouldn't dare give you the satisfaction, chav." you bit back as her grin dropped. "you don't even know what that means!" she protested with a huff as now it was your turn to grin.
"all i need to know is that it gets under your skin, so it works for me." you smiled mockingly, taking your towel and leaving her behind. "whatever redneck!" the blonde shouted after you but you'd long blocked her out, putting your phone to your ear.
"oh my god she lives!" you cracked a sincere smile at the sound of the girls voice. "ha ha, i've been gone like a few days soph." you chuckled, catching her up on everything as you made your way over to the staff shower block.
"-she is driving me crazy! every night i lay there and the temptation to just smother her with a pillow and end my suffering is overwhelming." you scoffed, blood boiling as the image of the strikers smug face hovering over you at the championship burned into your brain.
"well, why don't you do something about it?" sophia questioned as you paused. "what do you mean?" you retorted with a frown. "you don't want her there, but she needs to be there to make up her community service hours since the vandalism right?" your best friend pushed as you hummed, starting to see where she was going with this.
"so? make her leave, or get her kicked out! problem solved and you don't have to see her again until next season. or if she fails to make up the community service she'd lose her scholarship and its bye bye miss england." sophia encouraged as a small smile curled onto your lips.
"lois you don't understand. on the pitch i have to deal with her attitude for like two hours, here its twenty four seven i can't escape her and she is fucking insufferable!" alessia groaned, collapsing back into her bed.
"so you're telling me you share a room with her and you can't think of any advantages to that?" lois quipped as alessia scoffed. "no? other than that she's constantly within strangling distance!" alessia grumbled with a roll of her eyes.
"less i love you but sometimes you can be so thick. this is great! its like the golden opportunity to get in her head. you have to do the whole camp for your service right? well if you make her life a nightmare she's hardly going to want to stay since she doesn't have to be there." lois continued to hint as finally the blonde started to follow along.
"plus if i can get into her head before the she believes tournament, if we both get a call up i can use that to play some serious mind games. for the good of the cause!" alessia grinned as lois sighed.
"less sometimes my own genius even surprises me."
~
you glanced up as you heard footsteps, your singing ceasing as suddenly there was silence and you wondered if you were hearing things. with a shrug you started humming again, ducking your head back under the water to wash the conditioner out.
but as suddenly your towel disappeared from the top of the cubicle your eyes widened and you hurried to shut the water off, sticking your head out.
"oh you have to be fucking kidding me." you scoffed, all of your clothes and towel suddenly missing in action, and you knew exactly who the culprit would be.
"fuck." you mumbled looking around desperately for a solution. with a groan you realised you really only had one choice, not particularly wanting to have to wait there soaking wet and shivering until night fall.
so with an enraged huff you ripped the shower curtains down with a tug, wrapping them as best around your body as you could, having to hold them up as to not let anything slip out.
cautiously poking your head out of the door your eyes locked in on your target and you retreated, taking a deep breath and muttering some affirmations to yourself.
"if you don't show weakness nobody can take advantage of something that isn't there." you mumbled, cocking your chin up high as you kicked open the door and stormed out of the building.
you heard the wolf whistles but paid them no mind, keeping your head held high and marching your way over toward the blonde sat by herself with a smug grin.
"did you leave something behind america? thought i'd bring it over to you, save you the embarrassment but well...guess you were too impatient to wait." alessia smirked as you snatched back your towel which was held in her hand.
"where the hell are my clothes england?" you warned, alessia looking upward with a slight smile as you followed your eyes, scoffing seeing your clothes hanging from one of the trees.
"cheeky kids. never know when a joke goes too far!" alessia tutted, unwavering as you squared up to her, the blonde standing so she was a head taller than you as you exhaled.
"you know russo if you wanted to see me naked so badly, next time you could just ask."
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soon-palestine · 14 days
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Israel, the world’s most innocent country, fell victim to a horrific attack from Iran with zero reported casualties on the same day Israel killed dozens of civilians in Gaza.
Israel had been minding its own business, quietly bombing hospitals, schools, universities, mosques, and an embassy, when the Iranian regime launched their outrageous attack for no apparent reason. Thankfully, the US and UK scrambled jets to defend Israeli airspace because it’s wrong to bomb countries in the Middle East, unless your name is Israel, in which case you can do all the bombing you want.
Every British and American ship in the region is now in grave danger and the risk of terror attacks on our soil has surely increased, but you will be relieved to know our countries have not benefitted in any way from our intervention. Personally, I can’t think of a better way for Israel to spend our tax money.
Our leaders have condemned Iran in the strongest possible terms, which is confusing because I thought we were supposed to remain ambiguous and say we’re investigating the matter when such an attack occurs. Perhaps this is one of those rules that only applies to Israel though.
When informed of the attack, a calm and rational Suella Braverman screamed: “WAR! I WANT WAR!” and when she’d stopped hyperventilating, she added: “This must be the end of western backsliding on Israel,” because she thinks we have not been sufficiently supportive of their genocide. Anyone who is not on the same side of the argument as Suella Braverman must ask serious questions about themselves.
Iran’s unprovoked attack involved giving Israel adequate warning and launching 30-year-old missiles, 99% of which were intercepted, and then saying the matter is closed unless Israel escalates further. The fact Iran would consider retaliating to further escalation from Israel shows just extreme these lunatics are.
Among Iran’s targets was the Israeli air base from which the missiles that struck its embassy were launched, killing 13 on April 1. As of yet, we have no indication as to why Iran carried out the attack, but we’re going to tell you it’s because they want to start World War III. Psychos.
Conspiracy theorists have suggested it’s actually Benjamin Netanyahu who wants escalation, but it’s unclear why the man who faces political oblivion, and possibly jail, would be incentivised to draw his allies into the fight and cause everyone to forget his many war crimes.
Israel, the country that definitely does not want war, has vowed an “unprecedented” response against Iran which will probably kill many more than zero people. If Iran expresses disapproval at Israel’s next mass murder, it’s because they’re trying to destabilise the region. At this point, we’ll have no choice but to help Israel do to Iran what we’ve spent six months helping them do to Gaza - launch precision strikes that destroy 70% of the buildings in the country and leave survivors living in tents.
Worryingly, we’ve just discovered at the most convenient moment that Iran has enough uranium to build 12 nuclear bombs. If it were true that Iran had so much weapon-grade uranium, it would be incredibly stupid to attack them, but we’re going to insist we must attack them because we’re weapon-grade idiots - and we think you are too.
Please just switch your brain off and accept what you’re being told, you simpletons! What matters is rich people can afford nuclear bunkers if this all goes horribly wrong. In the meantime, you can look forward to lots of exciting stories in the media about bringing back conscription and describing how you are likely to die in humanity's final war. Are you looking forward to radiation sickness and nuclear winter? Because they sound like brilliant fun! x
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this outstanding piece of journalism as much as I did, you can support my work here:
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javierpena-inatacvest · 10 months
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Chapter 1- I D.A.R.E. You
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Summary: After starting your new job as a 3rd grade teacher at Alma Pierce Elementary School, you meet a handsome Javier Peña who has been forced to come give a presentation to your grade. Although you've never met him, you're shocked to find out you may have more in common than you'd think.
Warnings: Mentions of Javi's past work for the DEA, mentions of death and grief, language, financial compensation if you were subjected to the D.A.R.E program as a child, Javi's family friends giving him sass
Word count: 6.2K
A/N: Post Season 3 Javi lives forever in my brain, as the first chapter of this story takes place in Laredo, May of 1997. This man deserves love, and boy is he going to get it.
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“It’s your lucky day, Peña!” 
Javier glanced up from the pile of paperwork scattered across his desk to acknowledge the voice coming from the doorway to his office. 
“What do you want, Carter?” 
Javier's voice half grunted in response, his eyes shifting back down to the pile of papers on his desk. In his doorway stood his office mate, Detective Eric Carter. When Javier began his new position with the Laredo County Sheriff's Department 4 months ago, it took everything in him to keep from calling his new co-worker Steve. At a glance, he looked just like his old DEA partner. Tall, lanky, with a wiry head of blonde hair and bright blue eyes. 30 seconds into meeting Carter, it didn’t take long to realize looks were about the only thing he and Steve Murphy had in common. Eric Carter was a human ray of fucking sunshine, and his chipper demeanor was blinding Javier this early in the morning. 
“It’s your turn!” Carter replied in a sing-songy voice, slapping a red file folder onto Javier’s desk, covering the papers he had been sorting through. Javier picked up the folder and crinkled his brows in confusion. He turned the cover towards him, holding it just far enough away so that his squint trying to read its contents wasn’t too obvious. God, he just needed to give up and buy reading glasses already. 
As he got the folder just the right distance away from his face, he gave Carter a look that said absolutely fucking not. The folder read D.A.R.E school assembly lessons, with a picture of the Lion mascot giving a big thumbs up in his black D.A.R.E shirt. The office had recently been recruited by Laredo Public School District to start giving presentations to the Elementary schools, using the program aptly abbreviated for Drug Abuse Resistance Education. 
“Just take away the “R” and rearrange some letters and it spells DEA!” Carter laughed to himself. “It’s like it was made for you!” 
“No.” 
“Sorry Peña, you’re bottom of the totem pole this week. We’ve all done our time, and you’re the last one left in the office who has yet to go present. It’s not even that bad, you just basically go talk to these kids for an hour and tell them drugs are bad, don’t do them, yadda, yadda, yadda, you get the gist, and then it’s done. Piece of cake!” 
“I’m not fucking going.” Javier scoffed. “I have shit I have to get done.” Gesturing in annoyance to the piles of papers on his desk, now in disarray from the folder being thrown on his desk. 
“Not a choice, Mr. Peña.” 
A new voice passed by the doorway, and a much broader frame stood behind Carter’s. Chief Deputy Dean Morris, had joined the conversation, knowing that it wouldn’t end easily for Detective Carter if he kept harassing Javier about it. Morris was head of the department, and what he said, went. Coming from a background in the Air Force, Morris knew how “civilian” a position at a sheriff’s department must have felt for Javier after his time in the DEA. 5 years ago, it seemed fair to think that neither of them would have assumed paperwork, mundane training programs, and now, arguing over talking to 10 year olds about the dangers of doing drugs would have played any importance in their jobs. 
 “Right of passage. Ever since the school board dropped this on us last year, we’ve all done our time. Believe me, no one wants to do it, but like Carter said, today is your lucky day!” Morris’s voice oozed with sarcasm, knowing that Javier would absolutely hate every second of what he was about to have to do. 
“You lucked out on your day to go too, Peña. It looks like you get to go to the school with the hot teach-OW! Hey! What was that for?!” Morris had slapped Carter’s shoulder before he could get out the rest of his sentence. 
“Keep it in your pants, okay Carter?” 
Carter let out a huff of defeat. “I’m just saying, he could have gotten worse days to go…” 
“Just read from the notes, let the kids ask a couple of questions at the end and then you’re on your way. Easy peasy. When you get to the school office they’ll let you know where to go.” 
Javier opened his mouth to rebuttal, but before he could even get out a word, Morris held up his hand to stop him. 
“Not a choice. I’ll have Carter help you finish sorting paperwork, so don’t try to bullshit me and tell me that you have too much work to get done.” 
Javier let out a sigh of frustration that was a little louder than he intended it to be. His hands rested on his forehead as he rubbed the bridge of his nose before replying. 
“Fine. But this is one and done.” 
“Good man.” Morris reached over Javier’s desk and gave him a pat on the shoulder. He and Carter started to make their way out of Javier’s office when Morris turned his head over the back of his shoulder. 
“Carter’s right about the teacher, too. She’s a catch.” He winked and shut the door behind him. 
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Javier gathered his things and made his way through the office, passing by Detective Carter’s desk. 
“Have funnnnnnn! Say ‘hi’ to the hot teacher for me!” Carter mocked, twinkling his fingers, waving at Javier. 
Without saying a word, Javier flipped him off, and kept walking. 
Settling into his truck, Javier set down his belongings in his passenger seat, and opened up the red file folder to see where his unexpected journey was taking him. 
This is fucking ridiculous He mouthed to himself as he cranked up the AC in the truck with one hand, and rummaged the other through the items on the seat. Reaching next to him, he grabbed and opened the folder, and grazed his index finger down the inside cover, where a schedule of schools, dates, and times were printed. At the bottom, he found 
5/27/97- Alma Pierce Elementary School, 12:00-12:30 pm, school cafeteria
 Javier’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. He read the line several times, re-checking the location and date to make sure what he read was true. 
Fuck. 
To any of his other co-workers who had been tasked with giving one of these D.A.R.E. presentations, the elementary school they were assigned to that day most likely held little to no significance. Of course, out of the 16 elementary schools in the Laredo Public School District, Javier was assigned to the one that held the most significance to him. 
The school that his mother taught at for her entire teaching career before she passed away. 
Since returning home from Colombia, Javier had been avoiding human contact like the plague. He had returned as somewhat of a “hometown hero” after his accomplishments with the DEA but couldn’t have felt further from it. He had become Laredo’s hottest topic. 
“What was it like to help catch Escobar?! The Cali Cartel?!” 
“We’re so proud of you, the DEA couldn’t have done it without you!”
“When are you going to come over and tell us all about Colombia? We want to know everything!” 
Each question, compliment and conversation about his time in South America was like a knife to his heart, slowly twisting with each word that came out of someone’s mouth. He could feel the guilt and burden of his time away growing heavier and heavier as he politely smiled through these conversations. 
But worse than the strangers who felt entitled to berate Javier about his time in Colombia, were his friends and family who he had been actively avoiding since returning home. Besides his father, Javier hadn’t seen anyone close to him since his mother’s funeral 8 years ago. It hurt Javier knowing that he had returned to Laredo a changed man, haunted by the things he had seen and done. His mother’s closest friends, those that she worked with at Alma Pierce Elementary School, had promised to fulfill Lucia Peña’s dying wish that they would look out for Javi and made sure that he came home okay. 
Well, Javier was home. He wasn’t quite sure how to break it to them that he wasn’t really okay. 
As he drove and parked in front of the school building, Javier’s heart began to beat heavier in his chest. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel as he started at the entrance to the school. He couldn’t decide if the feeling swirling around in his stomach was comfort or terror, knowing that Alma Pierce Elementary looked exactly the same as it did the last time he was here 9 years ago with his mother. 
He did know that part of that feeling definitely had to be terror, as he began to think about the fact he was about to be interrogated relentlessly by his late mother’s closest friends. Might as well sign these women up to work for the DEA- they were probably more terrifying than anyone Javier had encountered in his time working there. 
After a few more deep breaths, Javier gathered his things out of his truck and headed towards the main doors. Each footstep felt like he was walking through wet cement, questioning if it was too late to turn around.
Practically tip toeing in to the office, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible, Javier let out a soft “Hi, I’m from the sheriff's department, I’m here for-“ 
Before he could even finish his sentence, the office secretary, a tiny and graying Señora Gutierez was thrusting her arms across the threshold of the office desk to wrap Javier in an impressively strong hug. 
“JAVIER PEÑA. I cannot believe it’s you! oh my sweet mijo, look at you! The older you get, the more like Chucho you look, dios mio! Why haven’t you stopped by?! We have all missed you so much, what have you been doing? It is so good to see you!” 
Here we go.
“Hola, Señora.” Javier half grunted from how tight he was being squeezed. “It’s nice to see you too.” 
“I have lots to ask but I know you need to go, or they will know that this old woman has been running her mouth, making you late.” Señora Gutiérrez began shooing her hand, as to send Javier on his way. 
Javier chuckled. He felt his body begin to ease slightly, letting the familiarity of friendly faces bring him a small sense of comfort. 
“I would hope after this VERY LONG time that you have not been to see your mamà’s dearest friends, you still remember where the cafeteria is?” She gave Javier a playful grin.
“Sí, Señora.” 
“Everyone will be so happy to see you, mi amor. Now go, or everyone will be after me for keeping you!” 
Grabbing his things, Javier made his way down the bustling hallway. Tiny faces stared up at his, as he shuffled his way towards the cafeteria doors. There, he was greeted by a sea of children chatting amongst themselves and 3 smiling faces, patiently waiting for his arrival. 
“JAVI!” 
Out of any of the faces he was bound to see today, these were the 3 he would recognize anywhere. The ladies who stood before him were the fellow 3rd grade teachers who had taught alongside his mother for almost 20 years. 
The ladies surrounded him in a bear hug, Javier quietly noting to himself that he had definitely reached his hug quota for the next several weeks. 
“It’s so good to see you, Javi.” The first of the 3 women spoke, her words sweet like honey. Linda Garcia was short and stout, her gray bangs brushing over the brim of her glasses as she looked up at Javier. Linda had always had a soft spot for Javi, and reminded him the most of his mother. 
“It’s good to see you t-“ 
“PENDEJO. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! WHY HAVE YOU NOT CALLED?! WE SWORE TO YOUR LATE MOTHER THAT WE WOULD TAKE CARE OF YOU, AND IF IT WASN’T FOR CHUCHO KEEPING US UPDATED TH-” 
“Maria, let the boy breathe, this is the first time you’re seeing him in years, and this is the route you’re going to take? Dios Mio.” 
Standing next to Linda were her 2 partners in crime, Maria Rogers and Estelle Lopez. 
If you didn’t know Maria Rogers, you would be shocked to see the ferocity that came out of such a tiny woman. Javier’s mother used to refer to her “el vòlcan”- a matching nickname for her fiery personality. 
Estelle, on the other hand, was one of the most soft spoken people that Javier had ever meant. If she had something to say, he knew it was time to listen. 
“Hi everyone, it’s really great to see all of you.” Javier meant it. As overwhelmed and flustered as he was, it brought him peace to know after the hell that these last 8 years had been, some things never change. 
“MRS. ROGERSSSSSSS. WHEN IS THIS GONNA START?! I’M HUNGRY AND I KNOW LUNCH IS AFTER THIS.” 
“BE QUIET, MICHAEL. YOU KNOW WE’RE STILL WAITING FOR ONE MORE CLASS. YOU’RE SO ANNOYING.” 
“AM NOT!” 
“AM TOO!” 
Chatter and fidgeting amongst the 3rd graders instantaneously increased, the crowd of children now growing restless. 
“Oi, these niños will be the death of me, thank goodness this school is almost done.” Maria mumbled under her breath, the other 2 teachers rolling their eyes and laughing in agreement. “We’re just waiting on one more class, but they should be here any minute.” 
Overhearing the conversations shouted across the cafeteria, Agent Carter’s voice wandered through Javier’s thoughts. 
“You get the school with the hot teacher!” 
Obviously, Carter was not referring to the 3 women who stood before him. Although he wasn’t one for crude office banter, Javier couldn’t help but wonder if Carter’s statement really held true. With a genuine curiosity and a slight smirk on his face, he leaned back, arms crossed and asked, “Yeah wait, there’s still four 3rd grade teachers right?” 
The women all shot him a look that took him aback, their eyes burning a hole though Javier. 
“Jesus, you men really have a one track mind don’t you. Yes, I’m sure all of your friends from the department have been more than happy to tell you about our new teacher who just joined us. She is a sweet girl, and I am sure she is sick of getting harassed by all of you.” 
“Maria, I was just asking a quest-“ 
“Javier Jesus Peña, I have known you since before you were born. Wipe that smug look off your face, I know exactly why you asked the question”. 
Yup, things haven’t changed a bit. 
Before he could retort, the cafeteria doors began to swing open, followed by a long line of children, and you. 
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“1, 2, 3, eyes on me!” 
“1, 2, eyes on you! 
God, the amount of times you’d had to repeat that phrase as the end of the school year approached, you might as well have gotten it tattooed on your forehead. 
“Okay 3rd graders, we’re already 5 minutes late for our assembly, and I’m sure the other classes are not going to be happy that we’re holding them up, and probably making us late for lunch after” 
The chatter stopped. With only a few days left in the school year, you were running out of ammunition to keep your class’s attention. At least the threat of being late to unch would work for now. 
A little hand shot up from the middle of the line you were about to trail down the hallway, like a mother duck with her babies following in line. “What’s your question, Jaun?” 
“Do you know if it’s gonna be the same guy as last time? He was kind of scary.” Mumbles of agreement came from the voices surrounding him. The Laredo Sheriff's Department had sent in a slew of their employees each week for these presentations, and you had been convinced none of them had ever even attempted to talk to a child. Last week’s presenter, Martin, Michales, something like that, had spent the large time of his presentation talking about getting murdered by the Cartel, leading to tears from many of your students, and a prompt request to not have him back. 
“I don’t know sweetie, it seems like there’s someone new who comes every week, but I sure hope it’s not him.” The class let out a small giggle. These were the moments you loved about your job as a teacher, especially now that you had moved to an older grade where your kids finally picked up on your subtle jokes with them. 
You had been with your class since after Christmas break, filling in as a long term sub for a 3rd grade teacher on maternity leave. The job followed an impromptu move from Chicago to Texas after breaking off your relationship with your boyfriend (regrettably, almost fiancé)  of 3 years, who had been cheating on you behind your back for 2 of them. You felt like an idiot that you hadn’t seen it coming, but it still hit you like a ton of bricks. Paul had plenty of red flags, but your optimistic demeanor and the mounting peer pressure of watching your friends get married and start their own families made you feel trapped. It still stung to think you would have settled for a miserable life with Paul out of the fear you wouldn’t find anyone else. 
 Desperate to get as far away from Illinois as possible, you packed your bags and made the nearly 4 day drive down to Laredo, Texas. Laredo,  a strange choice to many, but made nothing but complete sense to you. Your best friend since the 2nd grade, Sarah Alverez, had moved to Laredo your Freshman year of high school, her father accepting an agricultural engineering position in ranching country. You spent every summer until college visiting her and her family, having nothing but the fondest of memories for a sleepy town outside of San Antonio. It was a stark chance from the hustle and bustle of Chicago suburbia where you had spent your childhood. Long, carefree summer days made you promise yourself that if you ever did leave Chicago, you’d find yourself here. Well, you had made good on your promise, but for reasons that still made your stomach churn in gut-wrenching knots. 
You and your class journeyed down the hallway to the cafeteria. Thank god it was a short trip, because you were far too tired to put up with the bickering and shenanigans the back of your line often seemed to plague you with. Just as you were entering through the cafeteria doors, you promptly turned around, your body facing the line as you walked backwards further into the cafeteria. “Isabella and Jorge, keep your hands to yourself! You two know you’re not supposed to be in line togeth-” Before you could finish your sentence, the back of your body collided with one behind you that you hadn’t seen since turning around to stop a near WWE smackdown in the hallway. You had bumped into kids more than once who weren’t paying attention to their surroundings, but it became very clear, very quickly, that the body you had backed yourself into was not a child’s. 
The body you had backed yourself into was much taller and broader than yours. Two large hands firmly, but gently grasped around the middle of your upper arms to catch you without stumbling backwards any further. An overwhelming scent of cedarwood and sage cologne filled your senses. This obviously was not one of your coworkers, either. 
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorr-“ you started to apologize as you came to face the body that had stopped you in your tracks. Your apology halted as you were met by incredibly broad shoulders covered by a navy blue suit jacket. As your gaze continued upwards, the shoulders were followed by a strong square jawline and plush lips, the upper covered with an impeccable mustache. Continuing up, you were met with the most beautiful, deep chocolate brown eyes, whose soft stare soon met yours. There was no denying that this man was devilishly handsome. Realizing that you had most definitely been starting too long, you restated your apology. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were behind me.” Your eyes shifted away from his and darted down to the floor. 
A small smirk formed on his face as he looked down at you. He didn’t realize it, but he couldn’t help it. You were wearing a yellow sun dress that hit just above your knees, covered by a light washed denim jacket. Your dress swayed beautifully as he watched you take your last few steps backwards, making him question himself if he let you run into him on purpose. You smelled like vanilla and something sweet that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Pink embarrassment flooded your cheeks as a soft smile on your face met his. He now too realized that he had been staring a little too long, and that he still had his grasp on your arms as you had turned around to look at him. 
“No it’s okay.” He let out a small laugh under his breath. “I just didn’t want you to go too much further and trip over anything else.” He gently let his hands leave her arms, and watched as she brushed a piece of hair out of her face and looked back up at him. 
“Should we go sit down now?!” A small voice shouted from your line, causing you to snap back to reality, realizing that you had a line of children still standing behind you. 
“Yes, sorry sweetie” you replied, brushing your dress down back into place. “You guys can go find a spot behind Mrs. Rogers’ class.” Your class passed by you, paying no mind to the interaction that just took place between you and the man you had just bumped into. 
As you watched your class pass by, you turned back around to find the man still staring at you, causing your heart to palpably beat in your chest. The same strong hands that had caught you were now extended in your direction, offering a handshake to introduce himself. “I’m Javier Peña, uh Javi, actually” as your hand met his, realizing how small they felt in his grip. “I’m from the Laredo Sheriff's department, I uh, I’m the one that’s supposed to be doing the whole presentation thing today.” Your hand stayed in his as you introduced yourself. God, his hands were something else.
His grip loosened as your co-workers began to move towards you. You began to realize how hot your face felt, knowing that you were flushed with embarrassment not only from almost falling into a crowd of 10 year olds, but from how awe struck you were by the man who had caught you.
The three women on your 3rd grade team had taken you in as one of their own when you started your job here. They had been more than happy to step in to help you with whatever you needed, including trying to set you up with every single man your age that they knew. With the exception of the parade of overly forward sheriff's department members who had been at your school every Wednesday. Those 3 had no problem telling those men to fuck right off and leave you alone (in the nicest way possible.) The ladies slowly crept closer towards you, sly grins stretched across their faces as they giggled like school girls. 
“OH, so it looks like you met our sweet Javier!” Linda said with over exaggerated enthusiasm. 
“Sweetie, you’re SO good with the technology around here, you know how us old ladies are. Maybe you could help him set up the video he needs for his presentation today?” You knew damn well these women knew how to press play on a VCR. You grimaced your face at Maria. While you couldn’t see your face, you were absolutely positive your expression was screaming “Oh my God, could you please make it any more obvious that this man is insanely attractive and you don’t need to add to the embarrassment after I already ran into him like an idiot?!” 
“Yeah, of course, I’d be more than happy to help!” You pointed towards the stage that sat in front of the cafeteria. “Just come this way and I’ll show you how to set it up.” 
Following behind you, Javier leaned his head down towards yours. “Must be the most complicated VCR set up I’ve seen in a while.” 
You let out a giggle. “Yeah, they're all very sweet, but not the most skilled with anything that has to do with technology. When our principal had mentioned the idea of us potentially getting a computer lab, they just about had a heart attack. Setting up the TV to play a video should be no problem.” You gestured towards the stage at the front of the cafeteria where the TV cart was kept for presentations. He followed behind you, keeping a respectful distance.  Not respectful enough to keep himself from staring at the curve of your ass in your dress as you walked up the stage stairs. 
“Do you have the tape you need to show?” Your words went in one ear and out the other. Carter and Morris weren’t kidding. He hated to admit that those idiots were right about anything, but God, you were beautiful. His gaze was locked on you as squatted down next to the VCR, ejecting its previous contents. It seemed in that moment that you very much both realized that when Javier stood in front of you, you eye level with his waist, staring up at him, dangerously close to his coc- 
“Uh, yeah, yeah sorry,” he shook his head slightly to snap himself out of the thought he was about to have. “Thanks.” he smiled sheepishly. 
“Well I’m no technology expert, but all you should have to do is press play wherever you need to, and you should be good to go! Let me just roll this cart out for you and we’re good for you whenever you’re ready!” You began pushing the cart out onto the stage, but before you could get anywhere, Javi had his hand over yours. 
“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure it’s probably heavy, I can push it.” He insisted. 
You raised your eyebrows and gave him a look that made him step away. 
“What, you think I can’t do it?” Defiantly, you pushed the cart out to the middle of the stage to prove a point, looking back at him and shrugging with an “I told you so” look on your face. Any other woman he had met would have thankfully given up the task, let alone offer to do it at all. At that moment, Javier Peña knew you were not just any other woman. And that- that terrified him in the best way possible.
 Just before you hopped off the edge of the stage to re-join your class, you looked up at him as he ran his fingers through his locks of thick, curly brown hair, trying to regain his composure. 
“Good luck up there, Mr. Peña.” 
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Javier couldn’t even tell you what had happened in the 30 minutes that he was up on stage. There were many times throughout his career where he had stared out into a sea of blank faces as he gave a presentation about intel, informats, wire taps… but having the eyes of 80 9 and 10 year olds glued to his every word was an absolutely terrifying experience. Not because he was nervous about the judgment of a child who may or may not even be able to tie their shoes or wipe their nose, but because of what they may say about him to you. It took everything in his power not to stare at you the entire time he was up there, but every time he glanced in your direction, your face lit up with a reassuring smile. You had even given him a little thumbs up when he had successfully started the VCR, playing a clip of Daren the D.A.R.E Lion. 
As the presentation finished, the kids applauded and gave a unanimous “thank you!” prompted by the teachers. 
As your class gathered behind you to walk down to the cafeteria, Maria tapped your shoulder. 
“Take a picture, mija, it will last longer.” 
You were too busy staring at Javi to even notice that Maria was talking to you. Her words went in one ear and out the other. 
“Huh, what? Sorry, did you say something?” 
“I said, take a picture, it will last longer.” Maria laughed to herself. “I don’t think your eyes have left him once since you walked in here.” 
You hated to admit it, but it was true. You had known this man for less than an hour, and he already had butterflies dancing around in your stomach. God, what were you, 12?! Pull it together. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about Maria.” Of course you did. If you were wearing pants, they would be up in flames. Liar, liar, pants on fire. 
“I’ll take your class to lunch today. I’ll be back to help stack all of the chairs in a few. I’m sure he could use some help cleaning up, and I’ve heard that VCR is really difficult to work.” Maria nudged you before she turned around to collect your class and parade them out of the gym. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 
Trying to contain your excitement, you playfully rolled your eyes and shook your head. 
The other teachers and students left, leaving just you and Javi. He gathered his things that he had left on the stage and started to make his way back down the stairs. It took him a moment to realize you were standing at the edge of the steps, arms crossed over your chest, smiling up at him. 
“I’m sorry if the kids were rowdy. It’s been a zoo since there’s only a few days of school left.” You both let out a small chuckle. Now that you two were alone, you became very aware of how nervous you were.
“You did a really great job! Honestly, you’re the best person we’ve had since we’ve started doing these presentations. The guy we had last time, I can’t remember his name, something with an M?! Anyways, I don’t think he’s ever spoken to a child in his entire life, and there were definitely some tears.” 
Definitely Morris, Javi noted to himself. 
“Thanks, I uh- didn’t think I’d be so nervous to talk in front of a bunch of kids. I’m glad it wasn’t too bad. I should thank you for helping me with that video. Didn’t need to get my pride bruised in front of 10 year olds.  Also glad I didn’t make anyone cry.” 
You both let out small laughs, your cheeks revealing small smiles across your faces. While the silence between you grew, the distance between you began to shrink as you both subconsciously took a small step towards each other. 
He watched as a small wave of sadness flooded your expression. “Stinks that this is the last week of presentations before the school year ends. it would have been nice to have you back.” You looked at him with a half hopeful smile. You saw the same feeling reflected back in him as his brow scrunched and bottom lip entered a small pout. 
“Oh shit. Yeah, I uh, I guess I forgot it’s the end of the school year. That would make sense there wouldn’t be anymore presentations.” He rested one hand on his hip, as the other traveled through his thick, brown locks. You bit down on your bottom lip, stunned by his broadness and shoulders to waist ratio, which was made even more apparent as his fingers combed through his hair. His deep brown eyes met yours, melting you instantly.  “If I had known that you would have been here, I would have signed up to come a lot earlier.” 
Before you had a chance to recover yourself from the puddle you had just turned into, the cafeteria doors swung open once again. Maria was a woman on a mission. Her tiny, thin frame marched with purpose towards you both. 
“Oh good thing I caught you, amor! I was just thinking that I had something important to tell Javier before he left and I’m so glad you’re here to hear it too. Javi happens to be a dear familiar friend, and I was just telling him before the presentation how excited I am to see him and his father at my cookout this Saturday! I know you had mentioned you were thinking about going! You’ll be there, won’t you Javier? Aren't you so excited to come to the party this Saturday?”
Maria and Javier entered a silent stare down. Their expressions allowed them to have an entire conversation without speaking a word. 
There’s a party on Saturday? What are you talking about? What does this have to do with anything?
Dios Mio, Pendejo. Take the hint. I already invited her. She will be there on Saturday so you can see her again. Don’t mess this up. 
“Oh really?” You chimed in, perhaps a bit too over enthusiastic. “I wasn’t really going to know anyone besides the staff at school, so it would be nice to see another familiar face!” In all honesty, you were trying to find a way out of going before just now. Huge social gatherings of strangers weren’t really your thing, but if it meant it was a chance to see Javi again, you would brave it. 
“Oh yeah, the uh, the cookout! Yeah, uh, yeah, I’ll be there. It would be really nice to see you again, too.” Although Javier’s tone carried a tint of confusion, his smile was confirmed that his statement was genuine. 
“Bueno!” Maria clasped her hands together and shook her head in delight. “So you will BOTH be there on Saturday!” 
You could already feel your heart swelling at the prospect of seeing Javi again. 
“Oh and mija”, Maria turned towards you, your face lighting up, wondering if she had even more good news to deliver. “They need you in the office. Isabella and Jorge got into a wrestling match in the cafeteria and the secretaries needed to call their parents. Oi, these niños are like wild animals, summer cannot come fast enough!” 
“Of course they did. They might as well put WWE referee under our job description because it seems like that’s all I’m doing all day. It’s like herding feral cats.” you groaned. “Those two cannot be together next year…” 
Javi let out a snort. “Sorry”, he said, trying to contain his laughter. You joined in, realizing the ridiculousness of your statement. 
“Alright, well I guess that’s my cue to go. It was really nice to meet you, Javi. I’m really glad I get to see you again.” It took every ounce of strength in your body to move yourself out of the cafeteria doors. As you walked away, you turned once more to look back over your shoulder, to find that Javi’s eye’s hadn’t moved from your direction since you turned around. “See you on Saturday.” 
Even after you were out of sight, Javi still stood frozen, his eyes wide and jaw still half open. 
“Hola, earth to Javier, are you there?!” Maria interjected, waving her hand in front of Javi’s awe struck face. 
Snapping out of his trance, Javier began to speak, but was stopped before he could get out a single word. 
“Listen to me mijo. I want you to be happy. That was all Lucia asked for before she passed. So first and foremost, you are welcome.” Maria gestured, alluding to the fact that Javier owed her big time for what had just happened. “Secondly, she is a sweet girl. If you do anything to break her heart, so help me, I will come to the ranch and run you over with your father’s tractor. Understood?” 
“Understood.” Javier understood that this was not a threat, it was a promise. 
“Good. She’s a good one, Javier. She reminds me so much of your mother. Lucia would have loved her.” She reached up her hand to cup the side of Javi’s face, before bringing her other arm around him for a hug. 
Javier exhaled, trying his best to hold back the tears that were welling in his eyes. It was the first time since returning home that he felt a sense of relief and comfort fill his body. Maybe, he was more than the man he was returning home from Colombia. Maybe, the people who loved him before he left still loved him now, despite the person he’d become. Maybe, just maybe, someone else could love him for the new man he now hoped to become.  
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A DC X DP #18
You want a taste of my brain? Okay, it's yours anyway.
Imagine dis…
This time I get inspiration from an A03 fic, and some of its parts just stuck with me and now I’m writing about it, if some of you want to read it go for it. If you are asking for the name don’t ask, I am not going to sell my soul to the devil to find it in my ever-growing history. If you do manage to find it, kudos to them.
TELL ME I AM GETTING DESPERATE OVER HERE
Credits to them as well. Also, as you’ve noticed I decided to post less, now it is due to a good old lack of inspiration. So, don’t go getting your hopes up on this one.
Ever since Danny Phantom had become the Ghost King he repeatedly entered the reincarnation cycle willingly to retain his morals when he was human. He still retained his ability to stay in the middle of life and death. But when he as the High King of the Infinite Realms gained immortality he found himself losing his ideals and values, he began forgetting. With Clockwork’s insistence, every few hundred years he would become human to experience a lifetime. Sometimes he would go another round in the same dimension, but only when he needed to finish an unfinished business.
Sometimes he is lucky sometimes he is not.
Sometimes he would be born into a loving family with either as the only child or him having siblings. He has experienced the life of royalty as the heir prince. He experienced the life of a knight who was known for his skills with the sword. He was born into a normal family which made him second guesses his every choice due to his lack of normality in his life. He was also born into some wild dimensions that of which could look like it came from a book. From wizards and sci-fi worlds, he never had the time to sit and be an extra.
But there were also times he was born far too unlucky. 
He was born in a salve ridden society, a parent who were core members of a rebellion so when his current parents died, he was expected to be like his parents. Born in a society where the rich trample the poor and he was forced into early child labor as expected in society to work at a very young age. Born where he and the people around him had never seen peace in a war-consumed country, a war that separated his family from each other not knowing whether one is alive or not, leaving only him and his siblings to stay alive. Being abandoned by a pair of druggies for his parents left alone inside a dumpster and died in the middle of the night, looking through the dimension he saw that some homeless people found his body and reported it to the authorities leaving his parents in jail while some prisoners seem to leave them at the near bottom of the hierarchy in prison.
It seems this time he was born in an assassin cult this time he wasn’t alone. A twin, an older sibling that was with him in the womb and both came into the world together. The moment he laid his eyes on his grandfather he can already tell that he is a major fruit loop from the way he both look at both of them. 
His name is too formal for his liking, Dylan Al Ghul, he already convinced Damian to call him Danny when it was just the two of them. Danny tries to downplay his abilities both ghost and human seeing that his grandfather is too power-hungry to the point of misusing ectoplasm that is corrupted but still ectoplasm to achieve some sort of immortality, he tried to give Damian a childhood in the form of showing him the stars whenever he could sneak him outside. He saw the absolute worship and awe Damian would give to their mother and their grandfather whenever they visit or supervised their training, Danny didn’t care for their approval nor their presence but seeing his brother seem to at awe and do anything to please the two made his heart shatter, his older brother never needed to prove anyone something.
Danny has repeatedly shown his disdain for the two most powerful people in the organization yet it is a miracle he still lives. It is because he is a spare, a spare yes not the heir but a useful spare one, twins one who specialized in stealth and espionage a twin who is a perfect copy of Damian aside from his eyes mirroring their supposed father. Both Talia and Ra seem to make it their life mission to drill his only purpose in his head, it may have never worked due to his adult mind but he pretended it would be as to not raise any suspicion.
The day Deathstroke attacked not only he dared to kill the demon head but also choose to kill the chosen heir, by removing an eye and some of his organs as a form of slow torture but also killing him as he made the organs unable to go back to their owner’s body.
Danny couldn’t look away from his bloodied brother, Talia slowly approached him from behind and put her hands on his shoulder, and whispered some honeyed words on how his role as the spare will be fulfilled at a much earlier date and promptly injected with a sleeping drug.
Danny was already awake when he noticed the cold metal bed behind him the lack of clothes as well the number of doctors seemingly in a rush to prepare for a last-minute surgery. He saw the unconscious form of Damian on the other side and suddenly heard the loud ticking noise of a grandfather’s clock. 
It seems that it was meant to be, Danny thought as an image of Clockwork flashed in his mind. 
He fell back asleep knowing that Damian lost an eye, kidney, a lung, some ribs as well an ungodly amount of blood, possibly more. Danny knew that this vessel of his wouldn’t survive at the sheer need and he already felt that he would not leave the room alive. So, he took one last peek at the sleeping Damian and promptly closed his eyes, the moment he opened his eyes once again he was back in his chambers in the Infinite Realms clutching his left eye in his face whilst looking at the mirror as he felt his eye be the first one to be removed.
It seems this time he died months before he and his brother celebrated their 10th birthday.
Damian woke up with a pounding headache being the assassin he is he immediately looked around seeing that his last memory is being tortured by Deathstroke.
He immediately took notice of his loose clothing and tried to walk towards the door but his knees immediately gave out. As he tries to gain his bearings, he noticed a scar right in the middle of his chest, it couldn’t be from the time when he was captured by Deathstroke as he noticed that this scar is too clean, too sterilized as if someone had just come out of a surgery type of scar. As he tries to loosen his shirt to take a better look at his scar when he noticed a mirror facing his way and noticed his eyes, instead of his usual pair of emerald eyes he was greeted with an emerald eye of his own and his brother’s icy blue eye in his left eye.
Damian remembered that Deathstroke took out his eye, as according to him it reminded him of the Demon head, and decided to promptly pull it out with his bare hands. 
Dread began to fill his very being and tried to go and look for his brother but deep down he already knew what happened to him after all, he is the heir while his brother his beloved younger brother is just a spare.
When Damian had met his father’s wards most of them commented on his heterochromia eyes and promptly greeted back with his sword in their faces.
The rest grumbled that Damian couldn’t take a tease or two, but immediately chased the demon brat as he chases each and one of them with the intent to kill.
Damian couldn’t tell them; another son was hidden from Bruce. Another son he had failed, another son who died before they could even meet him.
From the first few interactions he had with his father when he first met him, he knew where his brother’s bleeding heart came from.
Sometimes he could still see him, Dyl- no Danny, every time he looks in the mirror. The constant reminder that his brother was seen by the league as nothing but a spare. Whatever love he had for his mother disappeared the moment he laid his sight at his brother’s eye embedded in his supposed empty eye socket. 
The constant reminder that shows every time he looks at the mirror and the scar in the middle of his chest, Danny’s organs that were used on him to ensure his survival while Danny was left behind.
He was 14 years old when he went wide-eyed at the stranger across him and his brothers in a heavily populated area.
A teen looks exactly like him with a medical eyepatch on his left eye as he sits in a wheelchair chatting idly with an older man.
Damian heavily thought of a clone, did Talia, not mother never mother, make another clone after him after weeks of silence?
Damian still remembered the first time he encountered a clone with blue eyes, his running theory is that due to his new organs have bonded with him thus creating a batch of clones with blue eyes. Timothy had spoken up that since babies have a 50/50 chance of inheriting the colored eyes of either parent made a new branch of clones. 
Damian was already planning on disposing of the supposed clone when the said clone suddenly laughed exposing his neck that have a feign white line across indicating a scar. But that scar made Damian double guess, all clones he encountered are scarred free thus leaving him to have no trouble disposing of each and one of them but the existence of the scar he barely caught is something both brothers swore secrecy to it.
The laugh oh god, his laugh, only his brother laughs like that, Damian thought mournfully.
As he tries to look the other way, he suddenly faced the same doctor who was the assistant doctor that foresees his surgery years ago. He may have distanced himself from the League after he had fulfilled his debt but it was no mistaking that it was the same doctor that operated him that time.
A chemist they said, an insufficient man who is more cowardly than any other man yet his talent in poisons made him quite a gem in the League.
A clone who had broke out of their collective mind control? Possible, but why this clone? What made this look alike so special that this man dared to leave the League?
Robin began to follow the two, the other bats thought that he had a new case on his lap that requires recon. They didn’t question Robin’s new behavior as they have seen him do the same actions when he landed himself a case or when he was following a lead. Yet they couldn’t shake the feeling that something is not right, whether it is the fact that Robin refused any assistance or just the fact they have no idea what kind of case Robin is working on.
They should have listened to their guts then maybe they wouldn’t be surprised at the bat screen, showing a maternal and paternal match to a picture of a blue-eyed black-haired kid with a medical eyepatch on his left eye looking like Damian in a good day.
Danny was doing some paperwork when a flying thought passed by him about his last reincarnation. All memories from his adventures when he got reincarnated are usually put behind the back of his hand yet worries about the well-being of his brother made him distracted, and kept close a special one-way mirror to monitor his baby brother.
Danny felt nostalgic at the family drama and chaos that he can’t help but cackle at each interaction Damian has with their father’s adopted children and wards. He found himself majorly of his time watching for hours and hours, he can’t help but wish he was there. As if he was summoned Clockwork appeared in front of him and told him to go back, which confuses Danny since it was Clockwork who implemented that he cannot go back to the same dimension/ world if his body is too far gone to be revived by him, yet Clockwork told him to give someone named Alfred his regards and vanished. Looking bewildered at his mentor/ grandfather he tried to sense his vessel with little to no hope seeing that the League has his body, but surprises himself when he felt his own body submerged in a portion of the Lazarus pit. 
Going back, he was greeted by an assistant doctor that used to be in the League due to his ancestor’s debt. He explained that he cannot in good conscience do what he was instructed to after the operation, stole his body, and submerged it in an undiscovered pit due to its small size, enough to dump a child not enough for a grown adult. 
After an initial check-up, both he and the doctor discovered that the mini Lazarus pit regenerated all of his organs except his eye seeing that it was his entire body submerged excluding his head. The assistant doc theorized that those organs of his may be weaker since they were generated from nothing, Danny in all his eldritch glory as well as being the most powerful being across the Infinite Realms played his part perfectly of a now disabled child.
After all who would accuse this disabled child putting the daughter of the Demon Head in an endless nightmare by his command to Fright Knight? Who would accuse that innocent blue eye of his that he had killed any assassin in their tail ever since he and his now temporary guardian began exploring the world? Who would accuse an adorable child that he was the one who had put the Joker in a definite MIA? Who would accuse this child who smiles like the sun despite his setbacks be the one who tortured Deathstroke to the brink of insanity? Danny is pretty sure his temporary guardian knew of his secret endeavors but remained quiet due to his habit when he was in the League or just to prevent any grayer hairs from growing in. 
Now if only his brother stopped moping around the building across their apartment complex and just come inside, he made his infamous fudge to share with his brother. His brother didn’t have to drag the rest of the bat brigade in watching him across the building, he even made extra fudge, if only they could just go through the front door instead of rescuing him first in every rogue attack and pretend, they don’t him. Well, if they are playing a game then count him in to win. But for some reason all of them made a face of being constipated whenever they talk to him, Danny is so sure he used clean ingredients to make his fudge…
God dammit just enter the front door like a normal person, better yet tell Batman to stop looking at him as if he died! Those windows are not paying to fix themselves each time one of them decided to stop dropping and roll every other night!
PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.
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i-cant-sing · 7 months
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My mind is just coming up with amazing ideas today. I guess that's what happens when u don't study for a week... (this is all happening my academic burnout sm)
I present to you- Yandere Dad Hawks x bird kid reader.
Look Dad Keigo was gonna be a doting father for any kid, biological or not, but there's just something about his bio kid who also HAS HIS QUIRK😭😭😭 Like he can't stop awing at the sight of his little baby bird having tiny tiny red wings like papa.
The ever loving, forever doting, always spoiling his baby, that's the kind of dad Keigo is. I mean, putting his own childhood trauma aside, he still wants you to have the best childhood ever. There are very few things he says no to (only coming second to Dad Dabi who only says no to things that will actively put you in danger. Want ice cream for breakfast? Okay. Want to go to 7/11 with grandpa Enji? Hell no.). Child reader wants an Endeavour hero figure? Of course, darling! Here, take one from daddy's collection 🥰🥰🥰 Dont wanna eat your peas? Sorry, doll. You're gonna have to finish your plate, even if you try to look adorably menacing by fluffing up your wings.
Oh and your wings😭 You know how Rei has a weird thing for your hair (and she definitely gives you a flea bath after you hang out with hawks)? Yeah that's how Keigo is with your wings- obsessed. He takes care of them, cleans them out and even has you sit for hours if that's how long it takes him to groom them. "Its no use swatting me, baby. I'm still not letting you move an inch until I'm done. So, just sit back and relax.🥰" keigo would say as he hands his phone to watch some shows.
I headcanon that Keigo's kid will be sassy and quick as him. The two can bicker for hours, and no ones really sure whether you're just that good at arguments or if Keigo just let's you win because he loves you so much.
I can also see Keigo and reader bonding over their mutual love for pro hero Endeavour (but in very different ways💀)
Dad Keigo adores spending time with you, especially now that you're put in a safehouse with only a handful people he let's you meet. A major part of his life is feeding you. Maybe it's the bird brain, maybe it's his childhood trauma, but Keigo has to cook meals for you and he has to watch you eat them. He's not sure, but it makes him be at peace knowing that you sleep with a tummy full and a warm bed.
I think as far as flying goes, Keigo tells you to only to do it under his supervision. You know how sometimes you forget how ti breathe and then making a concious effort to breathe makes it difficult to do so? That's what Keigo thinks happens. He thinks that if you fly alone, you might suddenly forget how flap your wings or maybe you get tired and then you're just crashing down to the ground. Unfortunately for his weak heart, you don't listen to him and fly as high as you can.
Would Keigo let you go to school? Initially, yes. But it only takes one incident, something even as harmless as a stupid prank call threatening his child (Dabi did the call), and that's enough for him to go hay wire and pull you out of school and move to a new safehouse, cut off from anyone and everyone. When he has to leave, he'd either drop you off at Enji's, OR have someone from the Hero Comminsion come and babysit you.
You can pout and cry and scream at him all you want, he's not changing his mind. You're his baby, his only light, only will to live, he can't risk your life.
His life would only become more complicated if either of you get a love interest. For you, the choices are: Katsuki, Tokoyami, Izuku. For him, the choices are: Dabi, your baby mama, Miruko.
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ja3hwa · 7 months
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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟓 : 𝐄𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦 - 𝐉.𝐖𝐘 ♡
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Dimly Lit Bathroom
【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Wooyoung couldn't keep his hands off you on a regular basis. But when he sees you in such a sexy outfit, he has no choice but to drag you to the nearest bathroom.
『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 801
-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Idol Au. Suggestive.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Idol!Wooyoung x F.Reader
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Fingering. Marking. Pet names. Dirty bar bathroom sex (eeww hehe). Clit play. Making out.
Thank you, @whatudowhennooneseesyou , for requesting Wooyoung and the plot for this day ♡♡♡
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You never thought Wooyoung would be up for something as risky as this. Cause let's face it, even though he loved attention, you never expected him to be rushing you towards the women's bathroom in the back of a loud crowded bar away from your group of friends that would surely be looking for you both at any moment now. His grip on your wrist was tight, while his eyes scanned for a spot perfect for what he wanted to do. When he saw you show up in your outfit tonight, he couldn't keep his eyes anywhere but on your body and the way you swung your hips to the beat or laughed at one of his friend's jokes, he knew in the bluntest way possible, needed to fuck the living shit out of you.
The bathrooms were covered in graffiti, and the smell of overly-scented perfumes and weed tickled your nose enough to make you cough lightly. And the mess was severely unhygienic. But none of that mattered at that moment. All that did was getting your lips on his. And that is exactly what happened. Teeth clashing, and tongues were dancing. Desperation was the only thing present, and Wooyoung was in the mood to feed it.
”You look so fucking hot in this fit baby, I can’t keep my hands to myself.” His breath tickled your flesh as his words danced down your jaw to your neck. He bit down harshly on your jugular, suckling a purple love mark on you. You just leaned against the countertop, taking his assault on your neck obediently. If someone were to walk through the main door and swing the corner they would be greeted straight away with a sight of the century. The Jung Wooyoung, fucking his pretty girlfriend. The idea sparked excitement, the crudeness, the rawness. Everything was so dirty. Something you’ve never done. And Now Wooyoung was the one tainting you into enjoying something as messy as this situation.
His right hand was kept tightly on your hips, but his left hand explored your body. Squeezing your breast lightly, tugging on your clothes, and slipping into the top of your pants. His fingertips glided along your panties, pulling on the fabric before letting it go so it would snap back against your skin. You hissed at the feeling. Bucking your hips, you non-verbally gave him approval to slip further into your undergarments, letting him cup your pussy. His long fingers slip along your folds, stroking until he finds your clit, pressing down harshly. “Like that doll face?”
You nodded like a ridiculous bobblehead, moaning as your hips didn’t falter against his hand. His free hand, which sat on your hip, slowly made its way to your neck, wrapping around it tight enough to cause your brain to short-circuit. Your whimpers were music to his ears, and no matter how loud the yelling and noise people call singing outside grew, all he could focus on was your pretty voice. His slim appendages slipped into your dripping cunt thrusting in and out at the pain-staking pace. He watched your face scrunch up with your brows knotting on the top of your cute head. Your eyes opened vaguely, staring at him with his favourite expression. Fucked out and begging.
“Please, Woo. F-faster pleaseee.” Your words made his ego grow, and the way you sounded was so hypnotic, how could he possibly say no? but he wanted you to work for it.
“Come on baby, you can be louder. Let everyone hear how good I’m making you feel..”It was only when you heard his growling voice that you remembered you were in a very public place and that anyone could see you in such a vulnerable position. But yet a tingle in your gut made you realize you didn’t care. All you cared about was being a good girl for Wooyoung and getting what you wanted. So you moaned, heck almost screamed his name as he got faster, maybe not as loud as the music but definitely loud enough that if anyone were to come to the door they would hear you.
And as you got closer to your release, Wooyoung held onto you tighter, clashing his lips on yours. You came all over his hand with a high-pitched moan feeling your brain fill with fuzz. It was euphoric and messy all at once. “You think the boys would be looking for you by now?” you choked out panting against your lover's neck.
Wooyoung had to chuckle catching his gaze in the mirror behind you. Kissing your cheek he noticed a pair of eyes in the mirror, hiding behind the corner. “Don’t worry, I have a feeling they know what we're doing.”
-♥︎
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1800jjbarnes · 7 months
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟓: 𝐄𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇
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Dimly Lit Bathroom
【Synopsis】 : Bucky couldn't keep his hands off you on a regular basis. But when he sees you in such a sexy outfit, he has no choice but to drag you to the nearest bathroom.
『W.C』 : 801
-> Genre: Modern Avenger Au. Suggestive.
Pairing: Avenger!WhiteWolf!Bucky x ShieldAgent!Reader
[Warnings] : Fingering. Marking. Pet names. Dirty bar bathroom sex. Clit play. Making out.
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You never thought Bucky would be up for something as risky as this. Cause let's face it, even though he loved attention, you never expected him to be rushing you towards the women's bathroom in the back of a loud crowded bar away from your group of friends that would surely be looking for you both at any moment now. His grip on your wrist was tight, while his eyes scanned for a spot perfect for what he wanted to do. When he saw you show up in your outfit tonight, he couldn't keep his eyes anywhere but on your body and the way you swung your hips to the beat or laughed at one of his friend's jokes, he knew in the bluntest way possible, needed to fuck the living shit out of you.
The bathrooms were covered in graffiti, and the smell of overly-scented perfumes and weed tickled your nose enough to make you cough lightly. And the mess was severely unhygienic. But none of that mattered at that moment. All that did was getting your lips on his. And that is exactly what happened. Teeth clashing and tongues were dancing. Desperation was the only thing present, and Bucky was in the mood to feed it.
”You look so fucking hot in this outfit baby, I can’t keep my hands to myself.” His breath tickled your flesh as his words danced down your jaw to your neck. He bit down harshly on your jugular, suckling a purple love mark on you. You just leaned against the countertop, taking his assault on your neck obediently. If someone were to walk through the main door and swing the corner they would be greeted straight away with a sight of the century. The white wolf, the infamous winter soldie, fucking his pretty girlfriend. The idea sparked excitement, the crudeness, the rawness. Everything was so dirty. Something you’ve never done. And Now Bucky was the one tainting you into enjoying something as messy as this situation.
His right hand was kept tightly on your hips, but his metal left hand explored your body. Squeezing your breast lightly, tugging on your clothes, and slipping into the top of your pants. His cold fingertips glided along your panties, pulling on the fabric before letting it go so it would snap back against your skin. You hissed at the feeling. Bucking your hips, you non-verbally gave him approval to slip further into your undergarments, letting him cup your pussy. His long fingers slip along your folds, stroking until he finds your clit, pressing down harshly. “Like that doll face?”
You nodded like a ridiculous bobblehead, moaning as your hips didn’t falter against his hand. His free hand, which sat on your hip, slowly made its way to your neck, wrapping around it tight enough to cause your brain to short-circuit. Your whimpers were music to his ears, and no matter how loud the yelling and noise people call singing outside grew, all he could focus on was your pretty voice. His slim appendages slipped into your dripping cunt thrusting in and out at the pain-staking pace. He watched your face scrunch up with your brows knotting on the top of your cute head. Your eyes opened vaguely, staring at him with his favourite expression. Fucked out and begging.
“Please, Buck. F-faster pleaseee.” Your words made his ego grow, and the way you sounded was so hypnotic, how could he possibly say no? but he wanted you to work for it.
“Come on baby, you can be louder. Let everyone hear how good I’m making you feel..”It was only when you heard his growling voice that you remembered you were in a very public place and that anyone could see you in such a vulnerable position. But yet a tingle in your gut made you realize you didn’t care. All you cared about was being a good girl for Bucky and getting what you wanted. So you moaned, heck almost screamed his name as he got faster, maybe not as loud as the music but definitely loud enough that if anyone were to come to the door they would hear you.
And as you got closer to your release, Bucky held onto you tighter, clashing his lips on yours. You came all over his hand with a high-pitched moan feeling your brain fill with fuzz. It was euphoric and messy all at once. “You think the others would be looking for you by now?” you choked out panting against your lover's neck.
Bucky had to chuckle, catching his gaze in the mirror behind you. Kissing your cheek, he noticed a pair of eyes in the mirror, hiding behind the corner. “Don’t worry, I have a feeling they know what we're doing.”
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jemmo · 3 months
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Making sense of love for love's sake: the game
Despite all the things i absolutely adore about how the plot unravels and expands in love by love's sake, upon first watch, there's some things i couldn't piece together, which @lurkingshan echoes in their post:
'The way the author was messing with Myungha and forcing cruel choices on him really does not track with a desire to help him find happiness.'
And to preface, this is not something i fully get yet either. I think i'll need a good month and a sizeable reading list of relevant resources to understand just what/who this author/sunbae is and what his role is and how he is associated with myungha. But as always with the best shows for meta (aka bad buddy), as a plot unfolds, you can always find a better understanding by looking backwards and re-contextualising what you've already seen. so i watched ep 1, specifically the scene between myungha and his sunbae at the bar. And i will talk about how everything said in this scene has a whole new meaning now we know the full story, but for now i wanna focus on that question that they keep coming back to; "Then... will you change it for him?".
When you watch the show for the first time, your brain follows the simplest, most obvious version of the story you're being told, one where myungha has been pulled into the world of his sunbae's novel that's being turned into a game and given the opportunity to fix the thing he didn't like about it; making yeowoon happy, and thus you just think the rules of the game are imposed by the author, and so when these cruel choices first come up, you see them as the difficult roadblocks that are nevertheless necessary to any kind of game, forcing the player to make an impossible choice so that the game can continue in a certain direction and its only after that you learn whether it was the right choice or not, or there is no right choice, it simply changes the game you are playing.
And when its revealed what this game actually is, at first i tried to interpret these cruel choices, namely the choice between yeonwoon and myungha's grandma, and at best i could come up with the concept of this being a choice between staying stuck to the past aka choosing his grandma, even though he knows that choice doesn't mean she's safe bc he knows the future where he loses here, its an inevitability, but thats the small happiness he knew before it was taken away and thus that happiness is known and safe, theres no risk, versus choosing to pursue a new happiness, a love of yeowoon and thus himself, which he doesn't know, he hasn't experienced yet, and could be risky. Its a happiness that isn't guaranteed like his grandma, but its a happiness that looks to the future and has hope in it that he can find a new happiness to pursue despite what has happened in his past.
And that fits nice, okayish. But then i watched ep 1 and heard that question "Then... will you change it for him?" And watching through the rest of the eps, we come back to this scene at the bar and each time we get a new run up to the author asking this question, either new dialogue is added or we hear a different piece of the conversation entirely. It starts at the beginning of ep 1 as:
"Because Cha Yeowoon is the only one who's miserable." "It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile."
Then a bit later in ep 1 we go back and its expanded.
"It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile." "Why? Do you think you'd write it differently?" "Yes, definately. Someone like Cha Yeowoon, or someone like me with an awful life, can also be happy."
And then all the way on in ep 6, we get this new dialogue.
"I don't like talking about destiny." "Why?" "Because it means everything is predestined." "Then do you not believe in fate?" "Fate and destiny are the same. My grandma likes to say that. She said life is like a written book, and how you'll live and die are written in it. (...)I don't like things like this. Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." "Really? Then Myungha..."
And while we don't hear the author ask the same question, I feel like him getting cut off like that insinuates that the conversation leads to that same ending point. All that is to say, every time we hear this question being asked, its like we learn more and more about what this whole thing is, what the game is, what myungha is saying he will do by agreeing to do what the author asks. And every time, we see myungha being more defiant against the idea of yeowoon being resigned to his miserable ending. He starts off thinking that kind of life is destined, and while it's miserable, its not something he can fight. Then he says he'd want to write the story differently, bc yeowoon, or even him, could be happy. He challenges the idea that yeowoon, and thus himself, is fated to be miserable, and opens up the possibility for happiness for them both, but doesn't yet have the means or resolve to do it, its like he knows its possible on a fundamental level, but doesn't see it as something he can actually achieve. But then we circle back to the idea of destiny and books, both of which came up in the previous quote, and seems incredibly pertinent seen as this whole thing is about a novel this author has written. Myungha talks about how he hates the idea that life is a book where everything written is predestined to happen, from the moment you live to the moment you die. He says "Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." That vile way of life he described before that he said was destined, he is now saying it can be changed, and that possibility is now something he's holding onto, its what he sees hope in so that he can keep trying, bc now he finally is trying, he has the resolve, he's trying to realise this thing, this impossibility of rewriting the life he thought was destined through the way he loves yeowoon.
And coming back to those cruel choices, given this fresh context, it made me think. bc this isn't actually a game that myungha has been put into where the rules are dictated by an author completely separate from him. He said himself, he'd rewrite it, he'd change things for yeowoon. And when you start to think of it less as him fighting against a rigid, removed system and more like him being a character in a story he is trying to rewrite himself, that has both the author and his own limitations, or just his own if you're in the school of thought that the author is some figment or part of myungha himself or his conciousness, then you can start to see where these cruel choices might come from. They could be myungha, the author making edits to this new story, imposing his own doubts and limitations on himself. When he says he has to pick between Yeowoon and his grandma, what if that's the new author myungha seeing this story unfold and thinking no this isn't right, he can't have it all, i'm not deserving of this much happiness.
And what makes me like this idea even more is that when we get that second choice between ending after 14 days or getting 100 days back at the cost of resetting Yeowoon's affection to 0, that whole conversation happens in what I think the bar actually is which is this frozen moment in time where myungha is in the water with this extension of a voice in his head that is talking through these things. That conversation in itself needs its own post, but when you look at it both as a decision to break up or not or a decision to hold onto life or not, you can see how the author is just this soundboard relaying the decisions myungha is going through in his head. The author's voice is his own, weighing up his decisions. And if he is the author here, it only reinforces that the person making the rules of this game is him. You can even extend it further to the idea of the debuffs, where he puts in place this thing that makes it so he causes harm to yeowoon when he's around, and its only by garnering affection that he can prevent it. He gives himself a reason from the get go to stay away from yeowoon and reason it as him doing it for yeowoon's safety, when in fact the only way to make yeowoon safe is to increase his affection, which he can only do by being near him. Its a system that at first gives myungha a reason to stay away aka not like himself, but ultimately says the only way you're going to make yeowoon like you, or the only way you can like yourself, is if you accept risk. And that in itself screams to me of a myungha writing in these game systems that are trying to encourage his own-self love while falling at the hurdle of his own lack of self-worth.
The idea is still messy in my head even for me, but i just really like the idea that myungha could be trying to fix this thing both as a character and game master, and that both these versions of him have these flaws that manifest in their different ways to cause the events we see. It kinda is the definition of being your own worst enemy, the idea that in order to work towards loving yourself, the biggest obstacle you have to encounter is yourself, bc we are the ones holding ourselves back, making all these rules that make it harder to like ourselves and pursue our own happiness. The voices in our head telling us that we aren't good enough and aren't deserving are our own, and while the things that happen to us can inform what they say, we're the one's reinforcing those words. And what this show teaches us is that, if we're the one holding that pen all along, we can choose to change what those words are. If we make the rules, you don't have to create a game with concrete ultimatums, you can create a game where rules don't control you. Instead, you make the decisions, and you can make the ones that make you happy.
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bobbile-blog · 4 months
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Not sure if anyone’s said this yet but now that we have Laterano events plural I’m fascinated by their (imo) very deliberate choice of protagonists, and there are almost a couple of layers of narrative going on there. I struggle a little figuring out how to get this into words but specifically I think they’re chosen to be people who can carry a narrative without contradicting the orthodox morals of the church. There’s a LOT of vaguely anti-authoritarian rambling below the cut so please kindly bear with me and my English major brain.
I can’t really start there though. One of the reasons this is so brain hurty is how deeply it’s woven into the storyline, so to start, I have to verbalize how Laterano and Arknights writing more generally is different from other, similar settings. Because like, I hear the words “morally negative church in a grimdark setting” and my brain immediately shuts off. Come on, that’s so far beyond low-hanging fruit, if you’ve seen any grimdark setting ever you know exactly what that looks like. And sure, it was fine the first two or three times you saw it, depending on your tolerance for that kinda thing, but it gets boring quick and even when it was new it was kinda uninteresting story-wise. “Religion is always fake because it inspires hope which means everyone who takes meaning from it is either a corrupt grifter or naive and misled” isn’t just edgy nonsense, it’s also basically useless as an actual critique. It tells you absolutely nothing except how to tune out a particular kind of story, and a story that tries to get you to hear less is doing its job wrong.
So, Arknights does something different. Instead of denying the premise of the church entirely, it actually takes it at its word. Laterano is, in almost every definition of the word, a paradise. It is basically unmatched in terms of actual quality of life, with its only competitors being the Durin cities and maybe Aegir, and is worlds apart from now much the rest of Terra sucks. More than that, though, the paradise is specifically tailored to the worldview of a religion with a strong central authority - when I say it takes it at its word, I mean the authoritarian bits too. Laterano is a city that lives in perfect order and peace because everyone follows the law perfectly and they all understand each other and never fight. Empathy is really important for this, as it allows for a believable amount of superhuman societal order. Laterano has very little crime, political drama, or quarrels in general. It’s the promises of a strict higher authority actually taken at face value: everyone follows the rules and that means they have effectively unfettered freedom, because they don’t want to break the rules and therefore they can do anything they want.
Laterano is specifically written to be a believable paradise in a setting that has none, so that when the story then turns around and criticizes that setting, it has significantly more weight. Even when the promises of paradise are taken at face value, there are still issues that cannot be addressed because the system is inherently flawed even in the imaginary scenario where it works. Even worse, the problems that poke holes in the imaginary perfect scenario are the same problems that they face in the real world, like “how do you deal with the interpretation of scriptures” and “hey there’s this racism thing I keep hearing about should we be worried about that or what”. Because of the way this imaginary perfect system works, we then look back on our real world in a new light and understand it a little better. It’s good critique.
Okay so how did we get here and what does this have to do with the protagonists? Well, this starts with Fiametta in Guide Ahead, because she’s a really weird protagonist. This is a cold take at this point but despite being the character on the front of the box, she has very little to actually do with the central conflict of the event. Most of the conflict is handled by Ezell first and Andoain second, and Fiametta mostly putters around putting holes in people until the finale where Andoain receives the answer he’s been looking for, he turns to explain it to the world, and he runs into the only person in the whole of Laterano who does not care about his motivations or his revelation. Her role, in other words, is to replace the climax of Andoain’s story with her own, and in doing so she makes it much harder to actually get a resolution and a meaning out of the story (this should not be taken as a criticism of her character, let me cook). Guide Ahead’s ending is hazy, with only small piecemeal resolutions to its conflicts, and for the longest time that was just the way the event was written and it stood on its own.
But now, Hortus de Escapismo is out and the monkey brain see patterns. Specifically, with the choice of protagonists. Because Executor is definitely different from Fiametta as a protagonist, but there’s one particularly important connection between the two, and that’s that as I mentioned in the beginning, they allow for stories don’t contradict orthodox morality. Fiametta we went over, as she’s uninterested in any of Andoain’s morality and just wants him dead. Executor, though, is purely focused on his mission and views the world through that lens. He only wants to achieve his objective, and while helping the needy is in line with the stated objectives of the church and he does do so when able, it’s secondary to his assigned task. He does change as he gets further into the story, and we’re not gonna ignore that, but we’ll be back to it later. What I mean is more that he is designed as a person who is able to lead a story that doesn’t contradict with the morals of Laterano. He sees the injustice and suffering around him, but that’s not his job, so he doesn’t need to solve it to have a complete story with a happy ending.
This is where it really gets complicated, so I apologize if I don’t explain this very well. I see this as us dealing with multiple layers of fiction: the events of the story, the perspective of the church, and our perspective as readers. Back to the first point - authoritarian institutions almost always use stories to sell people on their brand of order. Simple stories, simple enough that even calling them myths seems like overselling it a little, your “Saint George slays a dragon” kinda thing. This is the point of the second layer, the perspective of the church. I don’t really have an in-world justification for this layer - maybe you could make the argument that it has to do with Law’s perspective on things, but I don’t totally buy that - I think it’s more in a weird narrative transition space for people who don’t read very carefully. Regardless, Fiametta and Executor’s shared indifference to the questionable circumstances surrounding them is designed to let them tell a story to prop up the existing order. Their protagonist status and their missions are specifically constructed to allow them to ignore the suffering around them, and as such ignore the larger questions that might poke holes in the larger order. They’re both playing out the story of Saint George, where they go and find a bad guy and kill them and that’s all there is to it. The story is designed and told specifically for that “that’s all there is to it”.
But, as we said earlier, this is a good critique, and as such it intentionally undercuts this story with the third layer: what we actually see as readers. We are shown the suffering and the injustice, and then get to see our protagonists ignoring that to pursue their goals. This is what gives Guide Ahead’s ending its unique texture, which sets it apart from every other event with a vaguely unresolved ending. We have seen the actual issues with Laterano, and also watched our protagonist explicitly ignore them in favor of her own story. It’s unsatisfying in a way that only really makes sense to me if we as the readers have an understanding of intentional authorship. Whether it be Yvangelista XI or Law or The Actual Real Life Pope, there are issues here that we want to see a resolution to but people are choosing not to address them. Again, it’s good critique. Not only does it push the reader to unpack and understand the actual real-world technique, but it also helps blunt it. You have just seen a plot and protagonist ring uncharacteristically hollow. You then look around to see why that is, and you realize there are many things that should have been resolved that weren’t. The next time you see a story resolve with that same hollow-ness, you know where to look. Surprise! Harry Potter was propaganda the whole time. It’s okay, it was never good, you were just twelve.
I guess the last thing is where we go from here, because Executor’s story breaks this mold somewhat. In Hortus de Escapismo, he has to deal with a mission that isn’t actually bounded by his normal rules, and because of that he actually does have leeway to help the people around him. He starts as someone who is totally mission-focused, but by the end of the event he’s done a total 180 and is blocking Oren’s attack, which makes the mission harder but helps the non-mission-critical civilians of the monastery. He breaks from the rigid thinking of “kill the bad guy and that’s all there is do it”, and gives his attention to the people he isn’t supposed to see. I think this is an indication of the direction we’re going to be headed in the future with Laterano events. The events aren’t going to get better - they’re going to keep being just as morally murky and complicated as in the past - but the characters are going to get better at handling it, and when they do, they’re going to actually start to change things for the better.
Goddamn that was a lot of writing for 1 AM. I still have a. Lot of thoughts on this event with stuff like empathy and Lemuen and Federico being an autistic icon(my beloved) but I’m going to leave things there, I think, because if I write for any longer my phone is going to crash when I try to post this. Anyway if you actually made it to the end thanks for listening to me rambling and I hope that made sense. Cheers.
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crownmemes · 3 months
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Threatening Sentences, Vol. 3
(Sentences from various sources for threats to and from a muse. Adjust phrasing where needed)
"If I were you, I'd keep me alive."
"Someday soon, somebody's going to step on your scrawny little neck!"
"I don't need to kill anyone to bury them."
"You are about to make a huge mistake."
"Look, I'm not going to bullshit you, okay? I don't really give a fuck what you know or don't know, but I'm going torture you anyway."
"How close to death do you want to get?"
"Do you really think this is going to end well for anyone?"
"You're not scared?"
"I'll warn you now; if this is a trick, I will kill you."
"Is that a threat? Are you threatening me?"
"If you hurt her, I will kill you!"
"I am a tolerant man, but my patience has its limits."
"Not many men last long in these parts. How long do you expect to last?"
"If you shoot me, you won't see a cent of that money."
"Trouble? You don't know what trouble is."
"Here's how this works: I ask the questions, and you answer the questions that I ask."
"I am done being afraid. It's your turn now."
"I'm going to give you a moment to reconsider that answer, because if you're for some reason mistaken, I will find out, and that will not be good for you."
"Keep talking. You're about five seconds away from the most humiliating moment of your life."
"I believe I've tolerated your presence long enough."
"I will saw your head open and eat your brains if you fuck me over."
"You can have answers, or you can live. Your choice."
"Sooner or later, you'll talk. It's just a matter of time."
"Do exactly what I say. Exactly. Don't move unless I say. Don't make a sound unless I say. Do you understand?"
"Where I come from, it's rude to point a gun at a man."
"The thing is, I know who you are. More accurately, I know who you aren't."
"Remember, this never happened. I was never here."
"You think I'm playing with you? I will break your fucking neck!"
"That's a very nice suit. It would be a shame to ruin it."
"If you ever break into my apartment again, I'll stab you in the eye."
"Please don't scream. It's tedious, and no one can hear you."
"Every instinct I have says to grind you into a pulp."
"Do not play games with me."
"I'm going to count to three. There will not be a four."
"It's a bad idea to get into a power play with somebody who holds the power."
"If you shut up, maybe I won't put a bullet in you!"
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