#i believe kids media should be dark and full of danger
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Gen Zer's (2005) Predictions for Gen Alpha (They aren't Doomed)
I have some cousins that are Gen Alpha and they're turning out well. I really think all the "they're so doomed" messaging is from a loud minority, mostly on tiktok. I disagree, so I plan to make predictions for the vague & soupy (time) generation of Gen Alpha.
This list will focus on American Gen Alpha since there WILL be a stark contrast, especially regarding school shootings.
Average to EXTREME skill with tech depending on the kids (hope STEM is ready to welcome a new wave of newcomers)
Difficulties with history knowledge due to rewritten history books, (Please be kind while they learn, they don't know the full scope of what's going on yet)
Desensitized to violence (Due to usual kid stuff, school shootings being treated as normal, and an increase in hate crimes)
A new passion for social justice (I don't mean to be a "but I have black friends" kind of person, but believe it or not, having friends in minority groups and realizing they're in danger makes you want to fist fight whoever is at fault)
TONS of memes about the "Alpha" phrasing, which trust me, will get old QUICKLY. (A bigger stretch is saying the term for a shitty Gen Alpha kid will be Omega/Beta instead of Boomer)
Unusually violent jokes & memes
Extremely dark humor
A long list of child neglect lawsuits
An increase in accents homogeneity due to watching YouTubers at a young age (I'm not joking, this has happened to me and I only started watching YT in 2nd Grade. I have the weirdest Irish, British, and midwestern, but not the state I currently live in, accents on only CERTAIN words and phrases. There definitely will be studies on this.)
A new wave of kids fighting gerymandering
Brand New Shiny Raw LinesTM from the KiddosTM that they'll probably use to roast lawmakers until they start decomosing on the spot
Kids who are NOT afraid to fight you
New unseen levels of compassion
This is a stretch, but somehow they'll manage to bring back the avocado toast jokes, either as a banter thing or as a new "Boomer" type thing.
KiddosTM will probably joke about how Millennials ruined every industry from fabric softener to identity theft to robberies. This will be (hopefully) fully joking manner and used in a [Post kiddosTM disagree with] [Reply: Well, you ruined the fabric softener industry, so you don't have a leg to stand on] type format.
Will either share you their Social Security Number or will be a brick wall online. No in between.
A increase in reading (specifically fanfiction & audio books, but will NOT be void of physical copies) but a decrease in literacy & media literacy. We are already seeing this happening.
A "you didn't fix this/you fucked it up" attitude towards older people. This isn't necessarily negative since it means they won't take ANY shit from lawmakers and will probably not have as many hangups regarding rioting.
An absolute HATRED for family channels. I waiting for these kids to break the van life kids out in a bizarre scheme of epic proportions lmao
The most indecipherable controversies you've ever seen in your life. I'm thinking at least 5 levels of knowledge and joining a subreddit will be needed to even have an idea of what's happening.
(Hopefully) a new level of understanding when it comes to accountability, people changing, and knowing what you should expect from a person when they get cancelled.
Brand new political cartoons (now made for the internet)
A new passion for the environment and recognizing one's place in it.
A new level of hatred for colonialism and mass killings
Probably at least one assassination lmao (they'll be the barista from the tiktok about the barista killing CEOs with metal straws as darts)
A polarizing divide between anti-capitalism and ancap ideas that we haven't seen since 2008 (and not as publicly in 2008, so get ready for your shit to get rocked).
Some of the best and worst takes that humanity has ever bore witness to.
New acceptance (even better than now) regarding hair (dyes and styles), tattoos, piercings, etc.
A major crackdown on systematic issues (criticism when they're young, major law & education changes when they're older)
That's all for now. REMEMBER! Do NOT treat these kids like you were treated (LOOKING AT YOU, Ms. AVOCADO TOAST and Ms. DOWNFALL OF HUMANITY GAY-MER).
Side Note: People are always surprised when I tell them I was born in 2005 and have already graduated high school (no, I did not skip grades, I was actually very young for my grade) so I'm going to apologize ahead of time for turning all the Millennials reading this into dust. Sorry, ya'll.
#i got handed the dodgeball#Apollo give me strength#for the love of god#lmao#gen z#millenials#gen alpha#predictions#lgbt#lgbtqia#lgbtq#lgbtq+#queer#trans rights#politics#us politics#world politics#youtube#art#tiktok#twitter#tumblr#discussion
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Some Aemond stans are extremely annoying. Like, I do think Aemond is an interesting character in the show, but a lot of his stans act like he literally did nothing wrong ever and that he’s actually a good person. It’s true that he was insecure and bullied as a kid, and that’s awful, but he very clearly had a darkness inside him even as a kid, and it came out in full force after he got Vhaegar.
Even before that Aemond was calculating and clever, so much so that it was almost unsettling. I get why he wanted a dragon so badly, but he was very callous in the fact that he went after Vhaegar the same day her rider just died. And I don’t believe that Aemond as a kid didn’t realize it was wrong to do that.
As I said before, Aemond is very smart. He knew he was doing something wrong which is why he made sure to go after Vhaegar when everyone was asleep. And it’s not like Vhaegar was the only available dragon. As Daemon says later, there are plenty of riderless dragons.
Aemond just wanted Vhaegar because she was the biggest and so he didn’t care who it would hurt if he got her. Aemond also showed absolutely no compassion for his cousins who had just lost their mother. Instead he took pleasure in being able to tell Rhaena that a pig would suit her.
The physical fight was not started by him, but he certainly kept escalating it even though he was clearly stronger than all four of them. He clearly enjoyed being in power and seeing all the kids terrified. I don’t think Aemond was really going to kill either of his nephews or cousins, but I do think he enjoyed seeing them scared of him and at his mercy.
Aemond is a complex character. He has suffered and been wronged but he isn’t just a victim and he has a very real dark side and flaws.
Yes, HotD Aemond is not a totally helpless victim.
Nonetheless, the show seems to want us to feel that he has some justified victimhood or that he’s “just” trying to prove how much of a Targ warrior he is.
His chasing down Lucerys and “accidentally” killing him instead of just killing him because he wanted to encourages the viewer to see him as this guy that doesn’t know what his own limits are, doesn’t know how to control himself or his dragon (even after years of being with her) because he’s so desperate.
It mirrors how Sara Hess once said that Aegon II doesn’t know what rape is, that he is like a man who pushes for more sex with his girlfriend in jail in that one episode she wrote for Orange is the New Black.
So Aemond has no accountability, because he “didn’t know”?! No, he had ample reason to understand the dangers of his own actions. He just chose not to care and believe in his control until his control swept away from him.
But if we take the episode at face value and Aemond was just trying to scare Lucerys.....he’s old enough then to pick and choose the battles he finds himself in, and this was not even a battle. He chose to make it one. He decides to go forth after already winning Storm’s End. Why?
Because he feels entitled to do so and is trying to prove his masculine Targ strength--not because he was bullied. The one bullying scene with no scenes of him antagonizing the Velyron boys makes it seem that he is more vulnerable than he would have been, with Alicent’s words in his ears. Which is the whole point behind him insulting & fighting the V boys after he already won?
The show can’t make up its mind and truly contradicts itself way too much to be taken as a coherent story/a piece of media. Yet it clearly leans more towards the villanous greens than it should.
And with Ryan saying that we’re not going to like the blacks very much next season (and I know precisely why as a book reader), I do not anticipate all of the green stans later coming into my asks and harassing me about how “wrong” I was for supporting Rhaenyra and Daemon.
#aemond targaryen#asoiaf asks to me#hotd characterization#hotd characters#hotd critical#hotd comment#hotd complaints#hotd accountability#hotd accidents#hotd#asoiaf
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This is a fic written for @stxleslyds! The prompt was: a fic with Dick, Roy and Lian spending time together in the Outsiders era. Thanks for the donation, Tati 💙.
Important: This fic takes place a week after the events of Outsiders (2003) #19.
“We could use you here,” Roy says. Even with his voice coming directly through the comm, Dick almost doesn’t hear him say, “I need you here.”
A soft wind blows through Blüdhaven, ruffling through Dick’s sweat-matted hair. What a filthy night it is for a Friday. Thunder rumbling in the distance with hot, humid air filling Dick’s lungs. It’s the kind of air that isn’t natural for a place like the ‘Haven. It’s here for whatever reason, and it’s no better now that the sun has been replaced by pink and purple neon lights flashing across the strip. It’s nights like these that Dick can admit to missing his red tunic and green shorts. It was shit to wear them in the winter but an absolute godsend in the summer.
Dick sighs deeply, moving away from the ledge of the building and away from his view of the herds of drunk people whose laughter echoes between the bars and casinos. There’s a tall HVAC unit in the middle of the building that he walks over to and sits against. The fabric of his suit rubs against it, and he squirms a little at the uncomfortable position. He bears it because this is a conversation that requires a little support.
“Dick.”
“I know,” Dick mutters.
He should be under the streets of Brooklyn the same as all the other Outsiders should be. Considering the circumstances, it’s no surprise that some of them have deserted the ship for the time being. Licking their wounds in private so to speak. Dick’s not proud of it. He tacks it onto his mental bulletin board of shame where it sits up there all torn and ugly like the rest of his deplorable moments.
“I’d feel better if you were here to watch Lian when I step out of the room,” Roy says in Japanese. Dick’s brow furrows. Either Lian is in the same room as Roy and he doesn’t want her to know they’re talking about her or there’s an Outsider nearby that he doesn’t want listening in on his personal issues. “She hasn’t started therapy yet and her separation anxiety is still high.”
“High for both of you,” Dick points out. He thinks back to a few days ago when Roy had called him in a panic because he’d left all of his groceries in the middle of the store after his paranoia got the best of him and had him running back to the base to check on Lian.
“Tell me about it,” Roy laughs dryly. “I feel like I’m going fuckin’ nuts, dude.” The strain in his voice sends a full body shiver down Dick’s spine. “All I can think about is whether she’s okay and if the base is protected enough, and if I can really trust everyone here. You and Kory are the only ones I feel okay leaving her with.”
You shouldn’t trust me like that, Dick thinks bitterly. Lilith and Donna trusted me with their lives and look where they are now.
“Everyone else is… I trust them as teammates. I trust them with my life. But I can’t—"
“Trust them with Lian’s,” Dick says, knowing how much this whole situation has fucked with Roy's ability to trust anyone and everyone. Except him and Kory, apparently. Probably Ollie and the rest of Roy's family too.
He thunks his head against the HVAC unit and stares up at the dark sky. Not a single star up there, he thinks, and something like guilt burns in his chest. You took them all with you, didn’t you, Donna? Put them in your pockets and faded away. “She might not be comfortable with me there,” he says after a moment.
It pains him to think that Lian could be scared of him. Scared of him because he looks similar to one of the blue-eyed, dark-haired kidnappers who murdered her babysitter and then branded her like cattle. That type of trauma association doesn’t go away after a week.
“Kory told Lian you might stop by, and you know what Lian asked her?”
Terrible things flash through Dick’s head. Things like words born of fear or disgust. He hugs his arms around his knees and squeezes them tight.
“No, what did she say?”
“She asked, ‘Is Uncle Nightwing gonna bring Blue’s Clues with him?’”
A smile tugs at the corner of Dick’s lips and his eyes start to sting. He can’t believe that’s the first thing she thought of. It only seems like yesterday that he was watching Blue’s Clues with her in Titans Tower. Sometimes he would pause the show and ask Lian questions about each of the clues just to hear what kind of outlandish answers her kid brain could come up with. Other times the detective in him couldn’t help but steer her towards a logical answer. Roy used to always roll his eyes and tell him to stop trying to turn her into a mini Nightwing.
“That doesn’t mean she’ll be okay seeing me in person and you know it,” Dick reminds him.
Roy’s sigh is soft and muffled in his ear. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Dick’s not one to wait around.
“Let’s cross it now.”
“You’re coming over?” Roy asks, and even though he mostly sounds neutral, Dick can hear the disbelief hidden under it all.
If there was an award for the world's most shitty friend, Dick would probably be in the lead to receive it. Here Roy is dealing with the fact that his daughter was abducted and almost trafficked, and what’s Dick been doing for the last few days instead of sticking by his side? Working himself to the bone in Blüdhaven, that’s what. Hiding away from the fact that he almost lost another important person to him. Trying to avoid the crushing weight of failure that clings to him like a second skin.
Pathetic. Some safety net he is.
“Yeah, give me an hour,” Dick says.
The commute from Blüdhaven to Brooklyn isn’t bad at this time of night. Most of the traffic is packed downtown where all the bars are lined up. Dick takes the highway to avoid the worst of it.
The roar of the city dies off once he goes underground. Down here the HQ looms over him in all its steel glory. Dick’s always thought of it like one giant elevator. It’s all hard angles and sleek, silver walls. Hardly a place one would describe as homey, but it was home to a few people nevertheless.
Dick goes inside after getting his eye and hand scanned by the computer. He heads down the hallway, keeping his footsteps light and quiet out of habit. So far there’s no sign of Jade, Indigo, or Rex in any of the rooms he passes. They’re the most likely to be here around this time. From what Kory told him the other day, Grace has been spending most of her time clubbing, and Anissa has been staying with her dad. He hates to admit it but it’s almost a relief that he doesn’t have to worry about running into either of them.
He ends up finding Roy and Lian in the rec room. Lian is sitting on the leather couch in the middle of the room. She must have had a shower not too long ago because her hair is a little damp and she’s wearing a pair of purple pajamas with unicorns on them. A Cinderella blanket is strewn across her lap and a stuffed rabbit sits discarded on the floor by her feet.
Roy looks small squatting in front of her. His pants are the only sign of his Arsenal gear, and it makes Dick feel slightly out of place since he’s still decked out in full mask and suit. It’s the first time Dick’s seen Roy in person since they brought down Tanner’s operations a week ago. He looks how Dick would expect any parent to look after being targeted by a major sex trafficker: stressed and exhausted.
Those tired eyes of his shift to the doorway where Dick stands, and Dick can see the way Roy looks him over from head to toe, assessing Dick’s condition. He can look as hard as he wants, but he won’t find anything. Dick keeps his face blank and unreadable.
“It still hurts,” Lian whimpers, and both Dick and Roy's attention immediately snaps back to her.
She wraps her arms around her stomach and bends over her lap like she’s going to throw up all over the floor. Roy doesn’t move to try and avoid any possible bouts of vomit. Nothing happens as the seconds tick by. No retching or anything. There’s only the sound of Roy’s hand rubbing up and down Lian’s arm.
“Me and your Uncle Nightwing are gonna get you feeling better soon,” Roy assures her in a gentle voice. “And guess what?”
Lian makes a questioning sound in the back of her throat.
The look Roy shoots Dick is somewhere between caution and amusement. “He’s been playing quiet mouse behind you this whole time.”
Dick braces himself as Lian shoots back up like a rocket. “He’s behind me?” she asks, twisting around in her seat. Dick’s heart starts jackrabbiting because what if she’s scared of him? What if he accidentally triggers her PTSD? What if— “Uncle Nightwing!” Lian shrieks.
Relief shudders through him because she sounds happy to see him. Not scared or angry or disgusted like he feared. She’s looking at him like he just told her he brought her a bag of candy, and that revelation is enough to make him take a breath and finally enter the room.
“Hey, kiddo,” Dick says, hurrying over to the couch so that she doesn’t have to get up. “I missed you.”
Lian reaches for his hand and holds on to it. It’s not like the hug Dick usually gets from her and maybe that’s because she doesn’t want anyone touching her back after the incident. Dick will take anything he can get. His much larger hand closes over her own and he swings them back and forth lightly.
“Me too,” Lian says. She squeezes his hand three times. “Why do you still have your gloves on?”
“My hands are cold,” Dick lies. “Why were you bent over like an accordion just a minute ago?”
“Her tummy’s been hurting,” Roy says with a frown.
“It’s because tigers used to try and eat people,” Lian tells him matter-of-factly. Roy looks like he’s about to correct her but she quickly hurries on. “My brain says there’s danger and it makes my tummy stop working.”
A lightbulb goes off in Dick’s head as he realizes that she’s describing anxiety. A simplified explanation of how the digestive system shuts down and sends blood to other parts of the body when there’s danger.
“My tummy does that too,” Dick says after a pause. “I get a lot of anxiety sometimes. Do you want me to show you how I try to make it go away?”
Lian scrunches her nose. “Do we have to take medicine?”
“Nope. All we need to do is sit up straight and breathe. Breathing really deep helps our brains calm down and makes our tummies feel more relaxed,” Dick explains. He sinks down on the plush couch and demonstrates how she should be sitting. “Now move back until you’re sitting like me.”
Lian does as she’s told and scoots back until she’s resting against the back of the couch. Dick only remembers how short she is when he notices how her feet stick out straight in front of her instead of dangling over the edge of the couch.
“Now tell your daddy to get in position.”
“Daddy,” Lian slaps the free cushion beside her, “sit next to me.”
“Magic word?” Roy prompts.
“Please,” Lian pouts.
“That’s better.” Roy’s knees pop when he shifts out of his crouched position. The whole couch rocks when he falls back against it. “What’s the strat here, Wing? We need to close our eyes or what?”
Dick wants to ask him why he’s acting like he’s never done this before but the playful words stick in his mouth like glue.
“We’ll close our eyes in a second. Lian, I want you to watch how your daddy and I take really deep breaths, okay? Then we’re all going to do it together.”
“I can take really big breaths!” Lian insists. She scrambles out of her pose and gets on her knees. Her little fingers wrap around Dick’s bicep as she leans in close to him. “I can take one million breaths as big as an elephant!”
The tired and apathetic part of him tells him to ignore her kid logic and to get back on track. The uncle part of him is another story. It wants him to be fun and helpful. To distract Lian from the worries and fears she has.
In the end, he does what he always does best: puts on a performance.
“Oh yeah?” Dick challenges with a grin that hopefully doesn’t look as strained as it feels. “I can take five billion breaths as big as a planet.”
“Elephants are bigger than planets,” she says.
“I think maybe the elephants are only bigger in your dreams.”
“Yeah, they are,” Lian agrees because she’s a typical kid who will support anything that proves she’s right in some capacity.
Roy looks amused when he puts his hands on Lian’s shoulders and steers her to sit back on her bottom. “Alright little missy, no more talking. We’re gonna do what Uncle Nightwing says now, okay?”
“Okay,” Lian agrees, looking over at Dick expectantly.
Coaching Lian through the exercise is easy. The most important part is making sure she’s taking breaths that are deep enough to make her stomach expand like a balloon. Dick has her place her hands on top of her stomach so he can see them rise when she inhales.
Roy follows along and Dick can tell that he’s taking advantage of the exercises for his own benefit. His face looks peaceful and relaxed as he follows along with Dick’s instructions to suck in a breath on the count of one and exhale up until the count of ten.
“Keep focusing on counting,” Dick tells them while they exhale. “We don’t want any other thoughts in our heads. No bad thoughts or funny thoughts. Only think about counting to ten.”
They run through a few more cycles. Dick’s pleased when he hears both Lian and Roy’s stomachs grumbling as they exhale. It’s a good sign that the deep breaths are massaging their organs and decreasing any kind of stomach pain.
“That’s it,” Dick says. “We’re all done.” He opens his eyes and sees Lian slumped against the back of the couch. Her hands are still resting on her stomach, but she looks languid instead of tense like she was when he first saw her.
“I’m tired now,” Roy says. His movements are slow as molasses when he slides forward to the edge of the couch and bends over to rest his arms on his thighs. He looks at Lian. “How about you, princess? You feeling any better?”
“Mhmm. My tummy doesn’t feel really uh…”
“Tight?” Dick offers.
“Yeah, it’s not so tight anymore.”
Roy pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Good. Mine feels a little better too.”
“Can we do Uncle Nightwing’s breathing thing again tomorrow?” she asks through a yawn.
“Sure thing,” Roy nods. His attention shifts to Dick. “Are you gonna still be here to lead us through it?”
This isn’t some kind of test but it feels like one. It feels like if he says no then he’s only proving that he’s a bad friend. That he can’t be relied on. He doesn’t want to give Roy that impression because it’s not true. Roy can rely on him the same way Dick relies on Roy. He hopes showing up here tonight is proof of that.
“That’s the plan,” he says, voice soft.
Roy leans over the couch and squeezes Dick’s knee gently. “You sure?” he asks, and his eyes roam over Dick’s face like he’s trying to find evidence that Dick is lying.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He pats Roy’s hand reassuringly in the same way Alfred's done for him and Bruce a hundred times. It's only now that he realizes it's a habit he's picked up.
Lian suddenly leans into Dick’s side and presses her weight against his arm. She pats both his and Roy’s hands.
“I’m sure too,” she says, and this time Dick can’t help but smile.
#Dick Grayson#Roy Harper#Lian Harper#tw: mentions of sex trafficking#tw: mentions of past kidnapping and child abuse#my fic#fic commission
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SECOND CHANCE
CHAPTER - 1 : GARDNER
Pairing: (Dark) Andy Barber x Reader.
Warning(s): Non-Con; Dub-con; Slow-burn(Maybe); Possible Defending Jacob spoilers; Possessiveness; Grief; Angst; Any other possible warnings will be added in the future chapters.
Summary: Follow Andy’s journey after the horrible accident that turned his whole world upside down.
*****
Series Masterlist
*****
Never in his life did Andy thought he’ll go through what he did. His whole family and himself going through Jacob’s trial is one thing, but Laurie intentionally trying to take their son’s life by crashing the car to the side of the tunnel is another. He can’t even imagine why on earth did she even think that her son is capable of murdering someone. Sure, Jacob did do a lot of weird stuff that are not normally done by other teenagers. But he believed his son was innocent. And while his son was in coma, attached to IV’s, the woman who put his life in danger came out sustaining minimal injuries.
The events following that are even more ridiculous. No matter what Andy did, she always doubted him. He thought that he deserved it. After all, he did hid about his father from her and would have probably never told her about it if it wasn’t for Jacob’s trial. Andy was fine with her maintaining some distance from him after every thing that happened. After all, the distance was there between them and kept increasing during the trial. And then there was a lot of secrecy that confused him. They never maintained any secrets between them, well apart from Andy not telling her about his father. That really confused him. But what he couldn’t stand was the unbelievable hatred she’s got for Jacob and it kept growing each day. First, it was just her avoiding to look at any of Jacob’s pictures or things. He chalked it up to her feeling guilty about the accident. But then there was her literally just removing all the things that had any connection to Jacob and piling it up to one a corner in the room that those things were in. He didn’t understand why she did that. Not until one day he couldn’t find those things in those rooms anywhere and found them in trash, just as he found the baby pictures of Jacob in the trash can right before the car crash happened. And when he brought those things back inside their home and confronted Laurie about it, she just screamed at him, kept yelling at him that she didn’t want to see them anymore. It was during that time when she literally told him that she hates Jacob. Her own son. That she regrets giving birth to him and should have gotten rid of him like her friends told her to when Jacob was conceived.
He can’t even fathom how a mother could hate her own son. And then she went on blaming Andy for everything that happened in their life. He tried taking her to therapy and even went to couples therapy with her, hoping to reduce the distance between them, but soon realized that nothing can fix things between them. Andy soon found out that one of the main reasons for the growing reasons between him and Laurie was the affair that Laurie’s been having with some dude that kept visiting Newton frequently. He definitely didn’t peg Laurie for the cheating type, but oh well.
But the final nail in the coffin was when Laurie tried to kill Jacob, again. He was visiting Jacob that day and Laurie insisted that she’ll tag along with him. Andy wasn’t up for it, but Laurie was persistent. Andy caved in and took her with him to the hospital. While Andy actually spent some time with Jacob in the unit, Laurie just stood outside the room, not even bothering to come. Then Andy went to talk to the doctor in-charge of Jacob’s treatment to check on the progress of Jacob’s health. When he returned, the sight in front of him chilled him to his bones. Jacob has his eyes closed and was struggling to breathe, his chest was moving frantically while Laurie just stared at him holding the oxygen mask he was wearing earlier, away from him.
“What are you doing?!” Andy growled at her, storming inside towards her while Laurie jumped and looked at him with wide eyes.
Hearing him, a nurse and doctor rushed in and helped Jacob breathe again and checked his vitals while Andy grabbed Laurie’s arm and dragged her away from his son. That was the final nail in the coffin. With some help from his previous employer, since he was still in her good books, Andy drew out a restraining order against Laurie for Jacob and also signed the divorce papers, also stating that he wanted to get full custody of Jacob. He had stayed in Newton till the divorce was finalized and also got full custody of Jacob since Laurie wanted to do nothing to do with the kid which made it easier. The house was sold too and he didn’t bother packing anything that Laurie had any input on. He just packed all of his stuff and Jacob’s sold some stuff and then gave some to charity and then moved to a place where all the ruckus and the media circus was far less. He wanted to live in peace and hopefully, Jacob will heal in time. He hoped that Jacob will be all good and healed in no time but the progress on his part is way less.
*****
It was another day spent working in the little bakery that Y/N owned. Y/N was truly lucky to find Gardner of all places to settle down for now. And she was even more lucky to find this gem of a bakery that was on sale. She literally placed almost all of her savings on it and didn’t regret it one bit about it in the past 3 years. The sales were good and the staff of 4 that worked in shifts were also good and understanding, never making a mess about things. They were like her second family and were there for her when things got a bit overwhelming. She hated dumping her stuff on them but they lived in a community and most were practically a few streets down from where she lived.
It was a few minutes past 3 in the afternoon and Y/N looked at her watch and cussed.
“Damn, I’m getting late today...” she muttered and looked up at the older woman who was one of the staff.
“Agatha, could you mind taking over for today? Charlotte is closing today and I have to go... I made a promise...” Y/N started and the older woman just her off.
“Just go on child. Don’t worry. Char and I will look over the place. You stay safe on your way” she told her.
Y/N smiled gratefully at her, grabbed her purse and dashed outside.
By the time she reached home, she sighed in relief and jogged towards the threshold, unlocked the door and walked inside, closing the door behind her. Walking into the living room, a smile broke on her face at the sight in front of her.
“MAMA!” a voice yelled enthusiastically upon her entering the living room.
Y/N crouched down as the toddler ran towards her as quickly as her little feet can take her and she wrapped her arms arounds Y/N’s neck.
“Hi baby!” Y/N cooed as she pressed kisses on the hair and forehead of the little toddler.
“Hi mama! I vuv you!” the little being said.
Y/N’s gaze then landed on Elie who was babysitting her little girl and smiled at her which was returned. The teenager has also been a savior babysitting the little girl whenever Y/N asked her too.
Y/N then looked at Ada, her little girl and told her “Baby, why don’t you go and get your things while mommy speaks to Elie?”
Ada nodded her head and quickly dashed towards the huge box of toys that she has. Y/N then looked at Elie and sighed.
“God, Elie. You are literally my savior, have I ever told you that?” she asked.
Elie grinned and replied “I think you might have mentioned it a time or two, but meh. Ada is the sweetest, and the most easiest to deal with. And I love hanging out with her.”
Y/N smiled gratefully. She still couldn’t understand how she got this much lucky with everything. She then pulled out thirty dollars out of her purse and handed them to Elie, who took them and bid goodbye for the day. Just then Ada ran towards her, with a few of her stuffies.
“Mama! Tea pawty!” Ada yelled enthusiastically.
Y/N chuckled and grabbed a blanket along with a few of Ada’s stuff for the tea party with her stuffies and the two of them walked outside towards the tiny lawn they had. After setting all the things down, she sat down with Ada and was busy playing with her when the movement of a truck got her attention which was following a sleek black Audi that stopped in front of the house beside theirs. It used to be empty, but Y/N heard from Mrs. Williams that the previous owners have finally sold it to someone, but Mrs. Williams didn’t know any details about the new owner.
Y/N saw the the truck stop behind the car and the packers and movers immediately opened the back of the truck, carefully moving all the stuff out and to the inside of the house while a guy got out of the car and lead them inside. From what she could see, he’s tall and got dark hair. While Y/N was looking at all the movement that was happening, little Ada’s gaze was transfixed at the sleek black Audi. The little girl, according to Y/N has an unhealthy obsession with cars, way more obsession that what a normal toddler has.
“Look, mama! Carrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!” Ada said, prolonging the R, making Y/N look at her and giggle.
She could literally see Ada’s eyes glowing while staring at the car and Y/N shook her head in amusement. Unbeknownst to them, the owner of the said car suddenly turned his attention towards his new neighbors and caught the cute little girl’s gaze on his car and a small smile grazed his lips.
#andy barber#defending jacob#jacob barber#laurie barber#dark andy barber#dark andy barber x reader#dark! andy barber#dark! andy barber x reader#dark andy barber x oc#dark! andy barber x oc#dark!andy barber#dark!andy barber x reader#dark!andy barber x oc#second chance#darkfic#chapter 1#Gardner
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Twisted Fate
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Cancer, both Bucky and reader have cancer, Major Character death, brief hospital terms mainly reffering to cancer treatment. References to amputation.
A/N: This was written for the lovely @eurynome827 2k celebration. I got a lovely quote of lyrics from Hadestown, which I wanted to do something that was based off of the musical, but I couldn’t figure anything out. Then I had a big anniversary come up and this was came out instead. It’s very angsty, I cried a lot, and well I hope you like it.
The low, steady hum of the fan fills the awkward silence. The psychiatrist, newly assigned to the case, still doesn’t feel comfortable. “Case number 32557038” was widely known in the health care center. The whispers and rumors floated their way down the hall, past the copy machine, filling the office with this chilling tale. Some regarded it as a terrible series of bad luck, others thought it was an act of some benevolent God, pouring his rage on this poor couple. Dr. Breynord, after reading the notes on the file, Breynord knew that this case was perhaps the worst case of bad luck she ever saw in her career, and, maybe it was her stubbornness or naive belief in medicine, but Dr. Breynord was going to help this poor man get the peace he so desperately needs.
“James,” Dr. Breynord’s voice breaks the silence of the office, “I’ve read what my colleagues had to say about your case, but, I’d like you to tell me what has happened if you feel comfortable.”
Shifting in his seat, James sighs, with a small nod of the head, he starts at the beginning.
Bucky Barnes was used to change. Granted, it was other people’s change, but it was still change nonetheless. The poor folks that sat next to him each clinic visit changed, his caretakers changed, it seemed as if the whole world changed around him, while he was stuck in some perpetual hell. Every day dragged out in the same dull, and nauseating feeling, and at times, Bucky felt he was in an endless loop, forsaken by some deity he didn’t believe in. But, for however long Bucky has left in this fallen and cruel world, he’ll remember when you walked in, shattering the miserable purgatory he was banished to, he’ll always remember the day you changed his life.
It happened during his first transfusion session after his surgery. His arm, still wrapped in bandage, IV tubing leading straight to his heart, pumped his body full of liquids, as he waited for the toxic poison to enter his body. He always found it ironic, the “medicine” that was supposed to save his life, that was too dangerous for the nurses to touch with their bare hands, was willingly flushed into his body. Hair loss, mouth sores, and muscle aches were the better side effects. He can’t help but think about what is coming, especially as he sees his nurse, Thor, come over with the freshly made batch of poison [STRIKE THROUGH], chemotherapy as his doctor would want him to call it. Hanging the bag on his IV pole, Thor looks over at Bucky, giving him the “I’m going to go on a rant about something you should care about” look.
“Now James, we’re getting a new patient today. It’s their first transfusion. They’re going to be sitting in the pod next to you. I swear to the gods, I best not hear another complaint about your attitude.”
“Me? An attitude? No, I think you got me confused with someone else. I’m the brightest little ball of sunshine here!” Bucky can’t help but chuckle. It’s not his fault he wasn’t a “warrior”, blasting “Fight Song” 24/7, as he sips on a kale smoothie with coffee suppositories shoved up his ass. T
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Barnes,” Thor shakes his head as he cleans up his station, “don’t think I won’t throw your bald ass out of here. That cancer sob story, won’t work on me.”
Bucky goes back to his phone, already feeling the effects of the chemo. No matter how many anti-nausea meds they fed him, Cisplatin always makes him sick. So, he had the right to act like a grumpy old grandpa. While he scrolls through his social media feed, seeing all the accomplishments, brags, and just shit of his friends, Bucky hears your sniffles, as you make your way down to the end of the Oncology clinic, taking a seat next to Bucky. Even if Thor hadn’t given him the heads up, he would have known you were fresh meat. One infusion, his mom asked him how he could tell. It was easy for Bucky, it all had to do with the eyes. A cancer diagnosis shatters you. It kills all hope, light, and goodness that’s in you. You turn completely numb to the world, to the point where your own wailing and sobs feel muted. Bucky saw all of that in your eyes. Behind the puffy, redness, saw the shards of hope, the fear of the unknown. Before you could reach your seat, you stumble, spilling your possessions that you carried all over the floor. Bucky watches quietly as you quickly pick up your items, collapsing into the chair next to him.
“Sorry I couldn’t give you a hand, only have the one,” he wiggles his stump, and he's met with silence. Talk about a rough crowd, he thinks, his nephews love his stumpy jokes. “So,” Bucky continues, “what are you in for? I’m a sarcoma, in the arm.” You sniffle as you turn your body to look at this new man.
“Leukemia,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper. It takes a real effort to say it out loud because then it makes all of this real.
“That’s good then,” the “sarcoma” man says to you, and Bucky can see the confusion, and pain on your face.
“How is that good? How is cancer good?”
Using his arm, Bucky points around the room, giving you a tour of the room.
“See him, that’s Riley, he has an inoperable brain tumor. That young kid, with the Switch? His name is Peter, his body is chemo resistant. So yeah, leukemia is good. If you haven’t learned it yet, not all cancers are made equal.”
“Oh,” you barely make out. What were you supposed to say to that?
=====
Much to Bucky’s surprise, he actually enjoyed having your company. Your treatments lined up and so you both got to know each other well. Bucky enjoyed having someone close to his age that understood his problems. And it also didn’t hurt that you had such a great personality, you got Bucky’s dark humor (and it went without saying that you understood it was his way of coping), and you looked great. Not many people can rock a bald head. And Bucky has seen his fair share, and he can say with confidence, you rocked it. Not covering it up with caps, scarves, or wigs. Because why should you hide away? For the first time since his diagnosis, Bucky had a purpose. So, while his immune system allowed him to leave the house, he picked up a bouquet of fake flowers (neutropenia life, am I right?) and a box of chocolates to take with him to the next transfusion. When he got to the clinic, Bucky was a bit worried to see that you weren’t next to him. Instead, there sat Barb, 75 years old with breast cancer.
“Oh sweetie, are those for me?” Barb looks at the flowers in Bucky’s hand.
“No!” He snaps, as closes the curtain that surrounds his chair. He hears some huffs and complaints from Barb, but frankly, he doesn’t give a damn. Bucky only has one thing on his mind: you.
“Are you alright? You’re not here at Club Med” Bucky texts as quickly as his one hand would let him. Dropping his phone, Bucky stares at it all while the nurses prep him. And because of damn, HIPAA, none of the nurses can tell him where you’re at. Minutes turn into hours, and by the time Bucky’s infusion ends, you still haven’t responded to him or shown up at the clinic.
“Hope you’re okay. Call or text me. I'm worried” Bucky sighs, realizing how much you made his chemo treatments more bearable. How your laugh could make him forget of the poison he had to take, or how the light in your eyes could make him forget, even just for a bit, how much his arm stump was hurting. You were a drug, more potent than any he’s had before, and Bucky was becoming addicted. He’s picking at the hamburger he got for dinner, not having much of an appetite when his phone goes off. Seeing it’s from you, he rushes to answer.
“Y/N! I… Where were you? I missed you today. I had to sit by Barb and…” The sounds of your cries cut Bucky off.
“Are you okay?”
“No, Buck. I… Got some bad news today.”
“Where are you?” He asks. He knows you’re alone, and speaking from experience, you never want to be alone when you get bad news. He knows from experience.
“Buck…” you sigh, “It’s fine. Really.”
“Please, Y/N, I know what it’s like to be alone after getting this kind of news. Please, let me be there for you.” Breaking further down into tears, you cry at Bucky’s actions, actions of love.
“I’ll send you my address,” Bucky gathers the flowers and chocolates as he rushes to your apartment, breaking a few traffic laws to get there faster. When he gets there, the image of you, opening the door, eyes swollen from crying breaks his heart.
“Oh, Y/N,” Bucky sweeps you into his arm, as he closes the door behind, “tell me what’s going on hun.”
You both sit on the couch, the bag with the flowers and chocolate lay at your feet, as you stay in Bucky’s embrace.
“I’m… I’m dying Buck!” You manage to say in-between odds. “Dr. Fair... gave me three months to live. There’s nothing else they can do.” You break down in his arms, that last straw finally breaking, as you tell your newfound best friend, the person you were supposed to beat cancer with. Bucky tries his best to remain strong, to be the rock, the foundation you need, but you’re not the only one that is losing a friend. You sit in each other's embrace, as you mourn. You cry for all the missed opportunities, laughs, and memories that won’t be made.
“What am I going to do,” you whisper, your voice hoarse from crying.
Kissing your head, Bucky pulls you in closer, “we, are going to make these three months, the best three months you’ve ever had.”
Bucky lives up to his promise, spending every hour he isn’t in the hospital with you. The time you spent together changed your relationship. Neither had to officially say the words to make your relationship official. It was just you, and Bucky. Holding each other close, as the tempest waged on, trying to beat you into submission. You go on walks in the park, picnics, and one night when you both had the energy, went skinny dipping. Your logic being, what are the cops going to do? Arrest two cancer patients, with one of them being terminal? You threw caution to the wind and simply lived. Lived, breathed, and loved. Things seemed to be perfect until reality hit.
Your body wasn’t keeping up. Your cancer was spreading faster than they predicted. The doctors couldn’t give you an explanation as to why the cancer was spreading so fast. It shouldn’t have been. Soon, home hospice came, to try to make you more comfortable. And like the good partner he was, Bucky spent every minute by your side. That’s why, when you felt the inevitable coming, you felt your body give in to the tiredness of fighting, you grab Bucky’s hand.
“I love you, James Bucky Barnes,” you weakly say, giving him one last affirmation, as you went to sleep, for one last time.
As Bucky wakes up from his nap, feeling your cold body, he tries to ruse you back awake. Once he realizes what has happened, the last bit of humanity inside of Bucky snapped. He lets out a blood-curdling scream, as tears stream down his face. He strikes your face, pleas escape his mouth. Pleas to you, to a God he has long stopped believing in. His body shakes, his tears wetting your hair, as he holds you for one last time.
=====
“Oh James,” Dr. Breynord grabs herself a tissue before handing Bucky the box of tissues. “I truly am so sorry to hear that. I want you to know that I am here to help you get happy again, and to heal.”
Bucky sighs and turns away from the doctor as he wipes his eyes. “You’re just like the rest of them. You didn’t listen to me.”
Breynord was surprised that this was Bucky’s complaint. The other doctors had warned her that Bucky could be sarcastic, standoff-ish, and even flat-out rude to them. Breynord thought she did a good job listening to his story, what did she miss.
“I… I don’t think I understand what you mean, James.”
Bucky lets out a heartless, empty laugh, “you want me to be happy again. I’m never going to be. Not only do I have to live with the guilt of surviving, when she died, in my arms, but I’ll also never find another soul like hers. We had a connection, you know. It felt like we met before. When I held her in my arm, and her arms would wrap around me, it felt like I had the whole world in my arms. I didn’t need anything else when I had Y/N.”
“So tell me doc, what’s the point of carrying on?”
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The Devil Judge, Ep.1 Meta
(On the re-imagined justice process, imageries, parallels in South Korea and our world today)
As with all dystopian fiction, it is not exactly a far-fetched imagining of our world. Instead, it is a critique of our society which seeks to amplify the inequalities and suffering of society through some exaggeration.
The Devil Judge is that: it "re-imagines" South Korea today with a sprinkle of cyberpunk aesthetics (a little too much bluish green tint) and dystopian imagery (of homeless people, a very dirty subway and dingy backalleys on a rainy night).
I kept thinking it was a dystopian "future" but was wondering why they were using only Samsung Note 20 instead of some Samsung futuristic prototype phone. So, those phones do keep audiences grounded in the reality it is portraying -- this is the alternative South Korea of today.
We are barely halfway into the first episode and we've got this extremely charismatic, anti-hero male lead strutting red carpets and making verbose declarations like "I am the power. By the judicial authority delegated to me by the people of Korea, I will run this court. And it is the people who hold this power." (Not verbatim but that's the gist).
Then, meet associate judge Kim Ga-On who seems to be against how the system is running. He seems to be the outlier who rose to his ranks from the bottom class of society (which his colleague Oh Jin-joo says, he looks like he's from the shanty town of Seoul). We start off, barely into the drama at this point, with a dramatic scene of a kindergarten bus ramming down barricades and charging towards the Court building. A group of kindergarten children crossing the road there (I've just no clue what businses kids would have near the court building tbh). A little girl tripping as they were rushed across the road, Ga-On jumping to the rescue, and unable to pick her up in time, shields her with his own body. Kang Yo Han is just there, taking a heavy gun from the guard and unhesitantly opened fire at the bus driver who was flooring the pedal. He misses the driver's head and hits the headrest before firing again. The bus swerves and flips. The driver loses consciousness and Ga On (again!) jumps to the rescue. So, here the tone is set. We've got this "devil judge" who seems to be the ultimate modern day anti-hero who's given immense amount of power.
Much more interesting is that in this dystopian South Korea, we've got what seems like a publicly elected judiciary (or Kang Yo Han is perhaps the first?) and that has always been something that has been discussed in legal academic. Not the idea of electing the judiciary but that the argument of the judiciary not being publicly elected can be seen as slightly out of tune with democracy. (In legal academic, however, this is theoretically seen as being balanced by the separation of powers; ie. the executive branch (=government) and elected members of Parliament/Congress are supposed to be fully separated from the judiciary and should therefore never interfere with the judiciary. But, of course, these are all theoretical stuff. They look good on paper and when discussed in legal essays but in reality, it can often be different (if not, the exact opposite). This series takes things to yet another level by imagining the inception of a publicly televised and publicly voted trial.
This goes against the nature of trials in general because in our world today, the judiciary (wherever it may be) typically have mechanisms (ie. laws and codes) to prevent manipulation by media. The principle of fair trial requires that no external influence affects the process of adjudication (ie. the judgement by judges). There also tends to be avoidance of trial by public opinion because the way the law is interpreted and applied can be rather technical and different from what people may say or think about a certain trials, the decision delivered and also sentencing. Trial by jury is the nearest it gets but that too can be a fairly technical process which do also include considerations like avoiding a two-day trial to prevent influence by the media or other agents on a jury member's decision. (A recent drama mentioning this is Law School). The thing about this idea of trial by the public is that standards of morality can be very subjective and varies from person to person. Judgement by judges are not entirely free from the influence of morality, but the process is a litle more stable through the processes of interpretative practices, case precedents and legal theories. Previously in another Kdrama, Miss Hammurabi (2018), Judge Lim Ba-reun became slightly frustrated by his friend's comment that having a jury trial is like "true democracy" because the "people gets to decide" and he even thinks the judiciary should be elected too. Lim Ba-reun sarcastically said he must have loved every elected politican since they were elected by the public. He tells him grimly that no jury has ever found a policeman who had beaten up a Black man to be guilty. He also pointed out that Nazi, the Holocaust and Hitler were all supported by the public.
In this series, the premise allows all of these imaginings to be realised and played out. It is peak criticism, I think, when they portray the scenes of the TV producer being excited about the real-time ratings and viewer ratings. And also the scene of the broadcasting channel's chairman dancing in joy when he received realtime report of the ratings (vowing to treat his equally wealthy friends to a meal). Even when his other friend seemed appalled by the decision delivered by Judge Kang, the Chairman could not hide his joy in the skyrocketing viewership ratings. This really reminded me of the entire Produce 101 franchise which also heralded the shows for putting the decision in "The Nation's Producers" (ie. voters) and emphasised how it is the Nation Producers who put together ("produce") the National Kpop group that is bound for success and set to receive national love. All of this illusion collapsed (and the Korean franchise died along with it) when the court finds its producers guilty of voting manipulation. The Devil Judge seemed to have a similarly dramatic flair in its emphasis of TV production gimmicks, camera angles, cuts of a person's reaction, etc. The President of South Korea (who has a very light voice, a penchant for orotund speeches and a lack of concern for national policies) and all these top 1% of people tuned in were on the edge of their seats watching Judge Kang orchestrate this theatre of public trial. Kim Ga-On watched him closely and was sure that Judge Kang had something up his sleeves and was definitely up to no good, yet he couldn't tell. When he finally delivers a verdict (that yes, this was a case of professional negligence and not negligent homicide), Ga-On was crestfallen and frustrated because it carries a mere 5 year imprisonment maximum. But Kang turns the table and brings up the newly passed legislation which allows accumulative sentence which then resulted in 235 years of imprisonment.
This sounded very much like how some Korean netizens had previously wondered (online) why Korea couldn't have a sentencing system like the US where the years of imprisonment can go up to 100 years or 500 years. Again, this was like realising an alternative South Korea that many have perhaps tried imagining. Episode 1 ends with Judge Kang stepping down from his high seat when a victim's family member bowed deeply with her hands clasped, as though in prayer, and even kneeled to him. This corresponded well and tied perfectly into the religious/godlike imagery represented in the justice's robes which is reminiscent of the pope's robes and resembles a priest's robe, and the app they named DIKE or Diety of Justice (正義의 神). When Judge Kang hugs the old woman with a compassionate smile, teary eyed and full of empathy, he ends up yawning barely a minute into consoling the weeping woman. Ga-On witnesses this and realises, all of this must have been a gimmick after all. He had his hopes up when Judge Kang serves the sentence of 235 years. The episode ends.
I think this series is set to be a great one. (Just as Law School was amazing too!) It has tons of stuff to unpack, lots that goes into the cinematography and camerawork. While characters do seem a little more like caricatures rather than realistic people that are properly fleshed out in the narrative, there is still promise to push beyond these caricatures. I think there is also a lot in the imagery of dystopia and the constant bombardment of messages from the government (which is often the mainstay of dystopian fiction) which emphasises a certain narrative which they want the people to believe. For example, Kim Ga-On is travelling up the escalator when there were ads of the DIKE app, ads on electronic billboards on the justice system, paper posters plastered in the dark backalley where a high school girl is being dragged away by two men saying "The government will now create a safe South Korea". That last one is perhaps the most glaring one to me because when I was in Korea, it was repeated to me by different Korean individuals: "Your things are safe. No Korean will steal it. (Not sure about foreigners though!) You are safe. Crimes don't happen. I checked and there are no sexual offenders living in this neighbourhood." But... spycams can be anywhere. Men secretly follow women to their homes and try to break into them. Sexual harassment can happen anywhere. Robbery and theft can happen.
Personally, my paranoia and anxiety won't ever let me believe such words. No narrative, self-made or otherwise, can convince me enough to think that I am in a safe place. I would always have a nagging thought at the back of my mind telling me danger can be lurking just about anywhere. I think Koreans today do have high levels of confidence in their country. Most people do think it is safe to be walking around in the dead of night without any worry. (Again, I do not quite share the sentiment.) But this is a kind of self-made narrative because I also know my countrymen who travel to other countries like the UK and say "I feel absolutely safe walking the streets in the dead of night while I won't feel the same in my own country" when those are simply ideas they've planted into themselves through the mindset that [This country is better than my country and therefore safer.] There is absolutely no correlation between a "better" country and crime rates (or potential of becoming a victim of crime). Not to mention, being an Asian in a Western country sets you up as a likelier victim of hate crime...
So, I was saying.... This narrative of "safe Korea" is already existing in South Korea today. The need for mass surveillance or a spycam detecting task force in public toilets don't add up with a "safe country" image but the sentiment planted into the people seems to be strong despite all of this. However, Koreans do call South Korea "Hell Joseon". Youth unemployment can be a concern is a country like South Korea and a graying population, increasinly empty gray towns like the one mentioned in the series are all concerns which are ever-present in the public conscious. The mention of plauge and unemployment too must be a major concern now. In a rather similar vein, this narrative of DIKE or trial by the public through app voting creates a sentiment that people can take into their own hands and deliver justice. But what about the people at the margins of society who are homeless and do not own smartphones? What is this concept of democracy that places power in the hands of people? Is it a mere illusion or is power really in the hands of people?
..................................................................................................
(A side note on how the indicted chairman of the company responsible for mass poisoning of an entire town had brushed off concerns about a failing filtration system and the move of industrial plants to Southeast Asia. As a Southeast Asian, it is also something on my mind how South Korea has moved out of China and moved most of its plants to Southeast Asia for cheap labour. But what about the pollution here, the appallingly low wages they pay Southeast Asians (both white and blue collars!) in comparison to the few Korean expat managerial staff or engineers they station out here? I remember how I was at the hospital at 2 am and a small group of blue collar workers in their work uniform came in with their injured colleague; this can only mean they were at work past midnight due to some accident and we are still in the midst of the pandemic. What kinds of welfare and benefits are these blue collars provided with?)
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Protecting kids is keeping them away as long as possible from the Internet and surpervising them when they use it.
Parents can't always be there for kids, sure, but there is easy way to guide your kid through the Internet. TV channel dedicated for kids have often special site in which they can play games, so it's very easy for parents to be there and help them log in. If kids wants to have a fanart of Mickey to color, have their parents search for it. There is a special filter on google and other navigator to turn off sensitive content.
I know people are saying that fandom should be kid friendly but what fandom exactly ? If the media is let's say, Peppa pig, I agree but fandom being on social media which aren't adviced for kids under the age of 13, it make the discussion irrelvant since those kid are in a range where Internet and screen should be limited making the whole argument debunked. If it's Final Fantasy, then the younger kids are like 16 since those games are rater around that age which means it's a mature audience that SHOULD be capable of handling their fandom experience to avoid what bothers them since they are considered mature enough to handle the dark content of the game. Now if let's say, a Fire Emblem game, then it falls within the age range were the youngest are 12 year old which is also the age most social media deemed youngester to be capable of logging in. But even THEN, parents can still control their online experience. There is a parental control feature that allows to limit the time your kid can spend on their screen, on specific app and even to BLOCK some of those so that they don't download them. However, even if a 12 year old doesn't have a full maturity level, they are deemed mature enough to be able to deal with social media and to have the moral compass necessary to understand the theme that a FE game are treating, like a 16 year old is mature enough to handle those that FF are treating. This means that the content is expecting the parent to have tough their kids enough about the right and wrong irl such as "killing and war is bad irl" meaning that the 12 year old is aware that what the game is depicting is bad but since it's a work of fiction, he knows that no person is really harmed.
Therefore, by this logic, the person that are the youngest in the fandom are expected to have enough moral experience to be able to distinguish the right from wrong and to be able to know themselves what is of their age and what isn't. Which means that if a 12 year old read a work that is R18, they are concious of what they are doing. Now you might be saying that there are people who are way below 12 that might download social media and log in by pretending to be older : who bought them the phone ? who let them download the app ? Who accepted to let them unsupervised on the internet despite it being a place where they can encounter all sorts of people ?
Content are made for a specific demographic and is expecting its public to fit a certain profile. That's why age rating and content warning are a thing. That's why the parent have to be careful with the age rating, the summary, what Genette call the Seuil of a media. What you teach your kid however should stay about real life. Fiction in itself can't have a 1:1 application of our morality due to it's ficitious nature. And it's not even made to be. Even irl, a lot fo situation ask us to use our judgment because of so many things, nuance, context. That's why it's so hard to establish a universal moral and that most moral principles are made to be applyable to a great scale and not in a "one case situation".
If you want to help kids, be rational. What is more dangerous ? A picture of a witch or someone on the internet brainwashing your kid in making them believe that even something that is 100% fake should respect rules that are made for the safety of a sentient sensible sensitive living being ? The picture of the witch can scare the kid, but the latter is more dangerous as it falls into the category of individual who are incapable of putting thingd into perspective. That the "problematic content" is lock on a private account isn't enough for them, it's also not enough for them that it's made so that only 18 year old and informed public/desensitized public can acces it, even tough their fear of "normalizing" is now unfounded with such a behaviour if the said content they fear isn't made public, but that only a restraint public can access it !!
I also think it's ridiculous that the group claiming to protect kids is actively harrassing and policing around works that are CLEARLY not made for them rather then the ACTUAL problem, aka those influencer making stupid challenges for the sake of followers and bamboozling naive preteens into imitating them for the sake of popularity. Especially when said groups are often people who have no knowledge of 1) the basics of morality 2) that it's a concept varying from cultures 3)that throw so often big words for fictional content it twist their meaning
Words are tool, they can't be used recklessely. Throwing a word without knowing all the deep meaning behind it is like using a hammer on a screw rather then on a nail, which is EVEN more dangerous for kids since it's going to twist their morals into them being unable to distingushing right from wrong, nor use their judgement to analyze which situation is fine and which is not, turning them into extremist of morality even though they wouldn't understand the how and the why
Oh and just in case, I AM TALKING ABOUT REAL LIFE HERE NOT FICTION IF IT' S FICTION WHO CARES
People really be thinking that if someone write weird stuff that makes them a bad person just because they think of it when half of the time, you had the virtue signaling people turned out to be harmful to kids ? I'd rather stay around a cringey 12 year old writing edgy incest fanfic then the people ready to shame this kids for doing that
because think of the children has become quite the useful rallying cry in order to push through any manner of agenda, as it relies on the gut instinct of preservation of the species and the moral understanding that we need to teach children the right lessons. both things that arent inherently wrong from a biological of philosophical perspective, but also have no real defined prerogatives or objective markers of success that can be universally applied. whats good for the children in one persons perspective is bad for them in another persons perspective.
in short its vague enough to cover just about anything that you can rally a larger number of people behind you then just saying 'i hate smut' or 'i hate minorities' would otherwise. so long as no one questions what protecting the children actually means in this case.
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My Dean Blunt Rotation aka High Fidelity Left A Bad Taste in My Mouth
For the past 2 to 3 months, my listening habits were teetering to an end; mostly via burnout by spontaneously listening to local artists daily and less likely of a musical discovery drought, whereas my interests of a certain artist or genre hasn't found its, sort of, "eureka", moment per se. I've been feeling less enthusiastic over the things i listen to since my friends have gradually lost their flare when it comes to discovering/exploring untapped parts of the music realm. Thus, in return, my enthusiasm not being reciprocated. It leaves an empty feeling from someone who has been yearning social interaction, may it be media being latched on the topic - it's a feeling that's been guilt-tripping me ever since I was stranded in the other end of the metro. I feel closed off, exposed to the crippling loneliness the lockdown has punished us: a defacto solitary confinement in a national level. Our act of staying online is also an act of staying alive outside.
To be fair though, it's a valid move to not boomerang compliments/gripes over an art you haven't consumed due to someone's autonomy. Your able body being to consume the art you wish to finish with free time is a luxury in of itself. The art is then failed to serve its purpose to reach its goal: You have squiggly lines heading straight to oblivion rather than swirling in the earlobes of a wandering cyber nomad. We, eventually, need to find something that could help us exit, rather than escape, from capital. We, in return, do not shut ourselves from the outside. Instead, we then tend to avoid the stress of protocols and outdoor fascism; Not avoid the indoor liberalism that is eating us alive and online. It's a capital punishment we never knew we signed up for ever since the onslaught of the virus and the state. Art for art's sake is nonexistent now, always has been, it seizes to ever since we went inside. Feeding off of a holographic meatloaf coming from a glowing screen. We have a real-life Karen acting as a nightlight in our rooms.
The COVID lockdown made us listen to music — both for better, for worse. For one, it made us pass most days. You could say the same for any sort of media: film, mixed media art, or whatever pre-Covid activity that sprung up during our time in isolation. For music, however, there was an uptick of new listeners that made others Wheel-of-Fortune the fuck out of their music discoveries in sites like RateYourMusic, Bandcamp, or even Sophie's Floorboard. We've continued to expand and became more open change of opinions and be less of a jackass towards someone else's opinions. On second thought, our opinions have been catalogued, leaving more notes than actual footprints of our previous listens. Our new discoveries made new bands and re-emerging bands, bands who faded to obscurity, crawl back in the surface with newfound interest from younger listeners (ie Panchiko, Jai Paul, and Dean Blunt) and this glowing, previously unseen and unexpected overwhelming support from fans of departed artists (ie SOPHIE, MF DOOM)
For the other, we've hogged gratuitous amounts of media, resulting into losing our primary direction as to how we want to consume our media based on the preconceived notions of what we want in our art. There is goodness in becoming directionless when you think about it, but there comes a cost to our identity as music listeners. Instead, we end up widening our tangents, falling in endless rabbit holes, having zero chances to emerge from the surface. In fact, i refuse to call it a "rabbit hole" instead i'd rather call it a "pipeline" of sorts — transitioning casual music fans into a full on, different, unique versions of themselves that would define them when laws and protocols have eased in the outside world. Our act of staying online has either made most of us break our character or enliven our past selves. The music pipeline is now more apparent, stretching the norms of what was once alienated by a silent majority, but now accepted as an acceptable form of expression. The more music we are exposed to has made casual listeners stranged out or react in ways that our personality have betrayed us or deemed not as acceptable to them. Still, not changing anything that was prominent pre-pandemic. Liberal cop behavior is stronger, now more dangerous than it ever was once perceived by the outside world.
HIGH FIDELITY? NO, THANK YOU.
Imagine a situation inside of a record, pre-pandemic of course, where you do not feel like lifting a record out from the shelf, instead, you window shop just for the sake of windowshopping. Capital and media made us think that going to record shops is a semi-productive activity. The age of discovery has died ever since High Fidelity romanticized and normalized the incelage of horny record diggers. Does this movie age well, yeah sure it does, for old 90s nerds at least. But did it translate well over in the past 20 or more years of events and tragedies that unfolded in pre-9/11 America? No it didn't. It was an age of free expression, only liberals would dream of whenever they take a sip of Guinness beer in their favorite dive bar.
Mind you, over a couple of months ago, it was my only chance in seeing why this movie was the talk of the town back when it was released. There's music, yeah, and attractive leading leadies, yeah, it has everything a 90s kid would love to salivate and drop their gonads over while they watch this movie. I obviously did not live to see the movie on opening day but i could imagine the scent that came out of that movie theater with attendees donning windbreakers and The Who shirts with popcorn dressing stains on their plastic cups. If there was a Filipino counterpart to this movie, i'd bet corporate champions Eraserheads and Rivermaya would soundtrack their music over and have either Tado or have Boy 2 Quizon, but i sense it to age like milk more than it could age like fine wine due to the senseless jokes one can execute in a Cubao or Cartimar record store.
John Cusack is obviously the incel in question here: a damaged, vengeful ex who constantly fails to live his partner's expectations and weaponizes his personality over the situations that has nothing to do with his interests. I spent the entire time being absolutely disgusted over the spineless responses of John Cusack's leading character. The movie then treads on flashbacks with John Cusack's failed relationships and what he could do to move on from each and one of them. If i could stand a SONA for 3 hours then I can't stand John Cusack being the dull entry point to incel, making more reasons why you should hate record store clerks who don't give an iota of shits to someone's inviting rapport. High Fidelity is opium for massive music circle jerks who can't take a single breathe of fresh air or a single quota of touching grass. There's more targeting weak and inferior guys and hot women who dump dumb overconfident dudebros more than the actual "music recs" in the entire movie. The more I think about this movie, the more I realize how our personality is in line towards Dick, the record store being unmercifully dunked on by the movie's two leading characters. He's an angel in the world of cynical bastards, witnessing both demons pitchforking record store customers in the ass while they're purchasing the latest Sonic Youth album.
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I believe that Jack Black, the dark horse of High Fidelity, has a pleasing personality more than an irritating demeanor due to this behavior in the record store. In fact, outside of the record store, Jack Black doesn't seem to take the business is your pleasure act pretty seriously. Unlike John Cusack's character he brought his obsession over involving a record in an important memory/point of his life. There is so much stuff that has happened outside of the record store, so much for Rolling Stone and NME being the bible of music at the time, endlessly christening and shilling artists that believe to become the second coming of the Beatles. The music references here however are treated as fluff than it is a mechanism that would drive the senseless plot forward. If anything, there are events pointed out in the event that doesn't have anything to do with the life of the characters.
If anything, this movie did a great job at capturing the feeling of music bros being dumped on the wayside by a mature set of characters and how their current conditions aren't perfumed by the studios' liking of having to Cinderella story the shit out of a bunch of normal record store owners. The reality is in the reaction of one's social capital being invaded and we're here to witness how those reactions panned out in 2021. This is a villainous depiction of music nerds being the salt of the earth, the bane of all media discussion, still reflective of the insufferable salt of cyberspace found in music forums like 4chan and RYM. High Fidelity is a pipeline of 90s musicology, a dreaded fever dream of an owner waiting for the decade to end, trends ossifying and re-emerged by the hands of nostalgia-savvy individuals. It was, at its time, every music-movie nerd's excuse equivalent of Scott Pilgrim VS. The World. There are memories worth remembering and cherishing, and this movie isn't one of them.
DEAN BLUNT, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK
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In the past two weeks I've been fancying myself into sitting down and listening to different projects from the ever elusive, UK-based sound artist Dean Blunt. The first time i chanced upon his music wasn't too long ago - albeit a recent one in the time of COVID - was when I randomly stumbled upon his records at a Spotify recommendations section under John Maus (yeah lol i know the implications whenever his name is mentioned) - but then i was enamored by his online presence so quickly I put everything down and dedicated an hour or two researching about this man's music.
Other than the fact that his album "The Redeemer" wasn't the best record to start off in journeying through his discography: ending up disgusted and borderline bored even and I was more likely to lambast this record's aimless, pretentious art-pop inflections. By the end of the day, it was a preference long solidified by his undying fanbase. According to his hardcore fans, the music isn't really music, evaluating it as a free form of sound art, rather than sticking to a structured and conventional cues; the genre is nullified by most analysts of the arts. The growing interest of the general public towards Dean Blunt's pranks and antics have long appealed to my tastes as a chaotic neutral individual. Pranks that are well executed to piss off UK gallery connoisseurs and entertain ironic attendees who'd shit on the art piece rather than participate in it.
More of the resources I've found about Dean Blunt online: numerous aliases and collaborations that lasted around almost 2 decades. The most notable of all them, at least for my money, are either Hype Williams, a duo consisting of Dean and frequent collaborator Inga Copeland, and Babyfather, an art performance parodizing the pirate radio culture in the UK. I have not delved enough in Blunt's body of work to evaluate everything and what i could synthesize from it. For now, I enjoyed it as a form of entertainment. Well, color me impressed because Dean Blunt isn't clowning around, he, in fact, makes blissful and transcendental music from left to right.
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Dean Blunt was the only few artists that made me want to binge on their discography. His movements in his music has attracted this pesky listener who thinks that being mysterious is a plus. I mean, look at me who thinks The Paul Institute, Panchiko, and Burial are the greatest artists that have walked the face of the earth.
The most I've enjoyed from Dean Blunt's discography are his mixtapes and collaborations: preferably his Soul Fire and ZUSHI, both of which were packaged as B-sides or supplemental releases rather than major releases such as the Babyfather project or the Black Metal releases. His knack for blurring the lines between genres still fascinate me as of this writing, and it continues to amaze me how he doesn't seize to compromise his art, he's here to prove a point and it sells quite well despite the lack of direction in his music. Blunt's music has more aggressive and hazy texture than the hollow, wide, soulless structure of art-pop/hypnagogic pop released today. He creates terrains from the rubble of his country's current shortcomings. The music overlaps the actual intentions with abstract concepts, becoming deconstructed down the line. In Babyfather, noise music coincides with Blunt's amateurish rapping. In Black Metal, Blunt isolates himself along with the assisted skeletal guitar playing. Both projects throwing all tropes in a vaccum alongside Blunt, who he himself would sought to become a personification of a musical void.
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(Excerpt from the Babyfather album review in TinyMixtapes)
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Dean Blunt is an entity that wishes to become one person, but no, this isn't a figure in a specific art form; this isn't Banksy, this isn't Bob Ong, this is made by one person, clearly it is if you listen closely, and it's been entrancing me ever since his presence was felt on the horizons of the internet. Dean Blunt, what the actual fuck.
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I love that canon you did in your previous ask question. Do you mind if I give you another topic? If you don’t want to them that’s totally fine! I imagine the training process Morgan goes through? Does she goes through the same way like Tony did? What feelings she be having?
Thank you! I don’t mind getting these! These are fun to get! But as for topic, let’s get into it.
Everybody knows how Tony Stark was a legend. We all know. We seen it since we were kids or teenagers.
Let’s examine in Morgan’s perspective, poor girl. She lost a father before she reaches the 1st grade. Morgan would try to move on, and still believe her father is watching her grow. Even when he’s not around, he’s always there.
Though, just watching other kids come to school. Being dropped by parents or just their fathers. She would watch how her classmates fathers’ would kiss them a short goodbye. Knowing that those kids will see their fathers again after school is over. She would feel jealous, yet sad. Pepper even knows it just the way she observes other kids around her with their father.
So Pepper tries her best to make sure Morgan get the same amount of treatment.
As Morgan grows, you would think she falls into a rabbit hole. She doesn’t. Morgan improves herself and succeed at things her father would be proud at, would probably hang on the refrigerator door.
Yet the people around her. The people around her may have these expectations on Morgan. They may expect Morgan to be smart like her father. Maybe expect her to be diligent in her education. People would expect her to be the top A student in her class—when she probably is.
Morgan didn’t do it because she was a Stark. She only done it because she would want her father to be proud.
Later as she hits high school, she is careful on the people she can trust. Careful on who she can befriend.
Everybody knows Morgan Stark, they know how she is connected to the Avengers. People around her probably only wants to be her friend because who she’s related to.
Or maybe people are hesitant on being her friend, thinking she can out beat them. So Morgan is careful when it comes to trusting and befriend someone.
Now, Training.
Like I said before, Sam, Bucky, and Peter probably are there to help her self-defense. Clint maybe comes by, just to check up in the girl, and teach her few tricks of his own, even teaching her some few moves Natasha learnt in the past on sparring with her.
Though when it comes to her first flight test. The suit she built is something she tries to build on her own. How she decided to build her own suit, was one night. She stumbled back into her father’s things that Pepper never got the chance to throw out or donate.
She would see video diaries of her father, listen to these stories of him going out on missions with the Avengers. Hey, maybe even hearing him tease Steve in the background.
All of it. The videos showed her what her father built his legacy on. What he sacrifice to put his team, family and people first before him. So that’s when she realize to take a step in her direction. Pick up what her father left behind. So the suit making, she definitely asks Peter and Shuri’s help when she got stuck. Though of course she tries rely on herself to make the suit. Just the fabrics, armor and designs to help function it fully is what she ask for.
When it comes to training, she doesn’t want her mom to know. So she either waits for Pepper to do errands until she’s home alone. Or she lies to her mom saying she’s going to a study group, when she’ is actually meeting Peter, or Sam to help test fly her suits,
She probably even ask Wanda herself to test levitation.
But flight test, she would be flying across the beautiful midnight starry skies. Zoom over the skylines of the buildings above. She would feel free, relax, and happy to fly over the skies just like her father did.
Like before how Pepper found out. It‘s when Morgan comes back home in her suit, though when she tried to land, the engine failed causing her to fly straight into the garage and crash. Alerting Pepper as she ran to the garage and see her daughter in full body armor with a sheepish look.
Yet it doesn’t end there, someone may gotten a photo or video of Morgan flying. Posting it all over social media, as it trended the face of a new Iron Man. It depends how pixelated the phone was. So maybe it was blurry, and people can’t identity whether it’s a male or female.
It probably doesn’t go so well once Morgan go back to school the next day. All she hear was criticism. People would probably say only bad things around her that affect her decision on wearing the armor and following into her father’s footsteps.
“This person really tries to be Tony Stark. No one can be Tony Stark. Not even his daughter.”
Ouch. Yeah that definitely made her mood go down. So when she got home, she just ignored her mom and head straight into her bedroom. Pepper would be sitting on the couch reading, “Hey kiddo, how was school?”
“Good...I guess...” Morgan says in a monotone voice, before slamming her bedroom door.
Pepper knew. Of course she knew her daughter was down in the Sakaar dumps. So she calls Happy, Rhodey and maybe Peter to come over.
Three of them gives her advice on what her father would say right now. What would her father tell her to do when dark clouds overshadows the sunny day above her head.
Peter, who observe the girl, noticing how she was just like him when he was a teen. He would sit on the edge of her bed, where Morgan be against her headboard. Legs tucked against her chest as she sits in the dark room with the moonlight settling through the window. His advice would be just a memory. A memory of his time with Tony.
“You know, your father manage to find my suit 2 minutes after meeting him. Actually he knew my identity right off the bat.”
Morgan slightly giggle, as Peter kept talking, “When I was your age. All I wanted to do was be an Avenger. I though this was my time to become a big time superhero, taking the shots in the big leagues. Though your father wouldn’t allow me to do any dangerous missions. He made me stay in the city and keep the grounds covered over small bank robberies. I even got a churro from an old lady.”
Morgan found it amusing, she smiled at Peter and ask, “Did he give in? You know, let you become this...all time superhero?”
Peter sighs, scratching the back of his neck, “No...well at the same time yeah, but I decided to stay behind. I was reckless and ignorant to your father, I wanted to be just like him. One day he had to saved me twice. When before he told me to back off, but he wouldn’t listen to me. So I took matters in my own hands and tried to save this ferry ship all because my high school crush’s father had this alien tech. Though it ended in a disaster, your father was angry at me. He took my suit away that same day.”
Morgan gave him a slight confusion, “Why? Because you were reckless?”
He shook his head, “Because I was relying on my suit. I thought the suit is what made me who I am as Spider-Man. It’s not. Anybody can wear the mask, but it’s the person underneath, who wears it. The one who is truly a hero. Your father wouldn’t want you to be like him. He would want you to be better than him. I told your father once, that...when you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and the bad things happen. They happen because of you.”
“So should I stop...stop doing what I’m doing? Just be normal?”
“Is that your choice? Is that what you want to do? Morgan, the suit doesn’t make you like your father. Sure if it walks, blasts, and moves like Tony’s armor. But it’s you whose controlling the suit beneath it. Don’t be like your father. Be better.”
So yeah. I would think this would end up happening.
#Bucky Barnes#peter parker meme#probably ask scarletxwinter#peter parker x reader#morgan stark#bucky barnes and morgan#bucky barnes x reader#sam wilson#sam wilson x reader#tony stark#tony stark x reader#tony stark icons#bucky barnes icons#pepper potts#avengers#avengers x reader#avengers fanfiction#peter parker fanfic#peter parker angst#bucky barnes angst#fanfic#peter parker headcanon#canon#avengers canon#natasha romanoff#Steve Rogers#clint barton
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Golden Age AU Masterpost
For everyone lacking context, the Golden Age AU is just me riffing on every piece of comic book media I’ve ever consumed. Here are some single-paragraph rundowns I’ve made to keep track of things as I start to write!
The Board of Directors is analogous to the Justice League- they’re pretty much entirely people with superpowers (with the exception of Carol, at first), they’re very prestigious, and they come together to ward off larger threats like the impressive super powered task force they are. Or they used to. Membership’s sort of dropped, and people with powers are getting harder to find and recruit, and the big headliner who ran it left it in the hands of some nurse, which is like. So not sexy.
PEIP is PEIP- they fit right in where they were. In the shadows, in the dark, fighting the threats that the “special people” won’t, protecting people on a lower level than “oh god, the apocalypse,” because apparently the superheroes aren’t concerned with espionage or alien meteors anymore. The pricks. Mostly run by people without superpowers- as far as they know- and deeply concerned with keeping heroes responsible for their own actions. They would be oversight, if they were allowed to be.
CCRP Technical is an interesting place. Charlotte and Ted work there, for Sam, though neither of them is quite sure what it actually does. Paul was recruited in hopes he’d grow into upper management, but he didn’t have the ambition for it. Bill has been there for a decade or two now, ever since he started attending those meetings with Becky and Mrs. Davidson. Melissa... Melissa is their rising star. Mr. Davidson isn’t sure what they found in her, but he’s glad to see her succeed! Good for her! Four for you Melissa, you go Melissa!
Hatchetfield.... is Hatchetfield. It’s small, it’s insular, it’s full of gossip and weirdness and people with eccentric ideas of morality. It might be easier to admit that superheroes and supervillains exist, but let nobody say that the citizens of Hatchetfield ever took the easy road. They will walk uphill, in the snow, denying the supernatural both ways.
Paul is a real sweetheart. He’s autistic, he’s quiet, he likes his routine and the simple pleasures in life... and he just happens to be unkillable and he maybe possibly sort of has the ability to fly. He could be an excellent addition to either team, but he refuses to be a proper superhero, making him Hatchetfield’s most obvious target. Which in turn means that he often ends up acting like a proper superhero against his own will. He thinks Emma is perfectly lovely and still hasn’t noticed her committing crimes.
Emma is Hidgens’ Lab Assistant, which is code for “committing crimes for college credit,” and she does a lot of the footwork for him. Being a henchman definitely tops food service, lets put it that way. She also gets to follow in the family business- a long line of Perkins supervillains ended when Jane broke free and became a real hero for Tom’s sake. She always wanted to be a good person, but Emma is not as opposed to violence. She also cannot wait for Hidgens to level Hatchetfield, which is made complicated by the fact that she likes Paul rather a lot, and he likes Hatchetfield.
Hidgens is a supervillain. He never leaves his house, orchestrates incidents of immense damage to the civic infrastructure, and refuses to acknowledge that just maybe putting children into the path of radioactive chemicals is not a valid scientific experiment. He’s not necessarily a bad person, it’s just that his morals refute even the idea of black and white. More like blue and red. Orange and green. He is of the opinion that world peace can only be achieved by world domination, and therefore has begun a track to world domination. He and Sam have a blood feud of indeterminate origin.
Becky Barnes, low-level healer and walking anesthetic, somehow ended up in charge of the Board of Directors. The last leader disappeared three days after handing off control, and Becky is still looking for them. Becky is very conspicuously not looking for her ex-husband, however. It makes some people suspicious, and nobody more than Sam, who is Stanley’s most obnoxious cousin. Apparently, ruining Becky’s life runs in the family. Despite these troubling events, Becky does her best to keep the city standing and the world turning- she and Bill manage what they can, Carol and PEIP manage what they can’t. She’s still in a precarious place, however, and she’s looking for help.
Frank Pricely supplies everyone with gadgets. Hero and villain alike, everyone pays. Not always the same price, but everyone pays. He’s a neutral party, and he acts the part, but everybody likes to debate his loyalties. There’s no such thing as truly neutral, right? Everyone has their price- even him. It’s just a matter of what that price is.
Lex is his cashier, which means that she learned early on in her career in retail that the panic button is not half as good a first resort as the paralysis darts Frank keeps in the cash drawer. She has the ability to manifest objects, as long as she knows where they are. She needs a concrete location to pull them away from, which means that she snoops in every house she visits, checks the staff rooms of every store she enters. She can, on command, find you just about anything you need. For a price. She’s learning a lot lately, though, and what she learns about her powers might put her at risk.
Bill is one of the few members of the Board of Directors still standing. He and Becky get coffee all the time, and commiserate about the lack of help in Hatchetfield. He has telepathy, and certain illusionary abilities, which come in especially handy when he’s talking people down or trying to sneak hostages out of hostage situations. A gentle, well-intentioned man, Bill is not outwardly very intimidating, but he’s strong. Much stronger than most people would like to think. Becky keeps trying to hand off leadership to him, and he gently hands it back every time- he’s got other problems to deal with right now.
Formerly married to the infamous Perkins family heiress, Tom tries to live a nice, quiet life. He used to be a hero- and a damn good one- but Jane defected for him, and then died for it, and he carries more guilt than he probably should. Tom never thought of himself as special, really, and he still doesn’t. He can warp matter- twist it into shape, turn it from one thing to another, and he’s a fine craftsman when he wants to be. But it’s a dangerous thing to have on hand when you’re angry or frightened, and Tom still has an awful case of PTSD hanging around his neck. He’s doing his best to wrangle with it, but he’s going to need some help.
Ethan is just a teenager. Really, he promises. He absolutely swears. Nothing special about him! He’s just real intuitive! He and Lex have been looking into that whole “experimentation” thing they did at CCRP back when they were babies and it wasn’t even interesting! He’s just a mechanic, honestly. He’s a straight C student! He hasn’t even joined the cult off the coast on that houseboat!! He’s a good kid. No reason to be concerned at all.
Ted is also Hidgens’ henchman, but definitely the lower-ranked of the two. He applied hoping he’d make some friends, but thus far all he’s managed to do is fall in love with Charlotte, who is Sam’s henchman. It’s not going badly for him, but it’s not going well, either. He and Paul still work together. Every time Hidgens asks, Ted is like “Paul? Nah. He’s totally normal.”
Gary is a mob lawyer. He used to work for Emma’s family, but now he works for Sherman and Linda. They’re technically competition, and if they ever find out that he’s playing both sides he’ll absolutely die, but in the meantime he is racking up that cash. He is so rich. He is capable of great evil, and occasionally does terrible things, but overall he’s an affable guy. He and Charlotte had an unfortunate tryst once that ended with her tying him to the Welcome to Hatchetfield sign with his own scarf, but he still pines for her. She’s the one that got away. And continues to get away. cops hate her: local woman refuses to go to jail.
MacNamara still works for PEIP, which is only slightly a different job, on account of there being very public superheroes in this world. He and Xander have been married for ten years, but they are both under the (mistaken) impression that it wasn’t a real marriage because it was done undercover. He thinks about that and is very sad about it sometimes. But they’re partners, and that’s good enough that he can be content with it. For now. He has the ability to intensify or nullify other people’s superpowers, and he does his best to keep it quiet. He thinks there’s something noble about living without superpowers, and vaguely wishes that he and Chad’s roles were swapped- until he remembers that Chad has one (1) brain cell to his name.
Xander has the ability to speak to computers. It’s not flashy, at first glance. It doesn’t have the pizzazz of Paul’s gifts or the subtle mind fuckery of John and Bill’s. But he can know whatever he wants, can hear anything, tap any phone call, look through any webcam. He doesn’t, because he’s not a fucking creep, but he can. PEIP was lucky to find him before CCRP- and so was everyone else in the world. Xander’s not flashy in general- he keeps a lot to himself. He and John have been partners for a long time, and they still haven’t said they love each other. He still hasn’t told John that he’s a member of the Board. He still hasn’t told John that he and Paul are in the same book club.
Schaffer doesn’t need powers. You think she needs powers? Her power is that she breathes and death turns away. PEIP was built by good people like Schaffer, people with principles and strong hearts and ice cold spines of steel. Normal, human people, unremarkable except that they chose to be better. She’s fourth-generation PEIP, born and raised to believe in the service they do, the protection they provide. Some of the more bitter agents will say that Schaffer benefitted from nepotism. They will never say this in front of her, because deep down they know she did not and they know that she will prove it by kicking their asses. She and Carol used to date, but the strain of crossing enemy lines in what was, essentially, a Cold War between PEIP and the Board got to them both. Schaffer is the person Hidgens called after he got struck by lightning.
Charlotte is Sam’s henchman and quietly in the running for longest con ever pulled. One day she is going to off him and take his place as the leading supervillain in Hatchetfield, but that day is not today. She likes Ted, but Sam keeps telling her to kill him, so their relationship amounts to “the inherent eroticism of trying to murder each other”. Nobody is entirely certain how she does what she does, but she’s very, very good at her job. Emma looks up to her just a little. She had a therapist once. He tried to sleep with her. She no longer has a therapist. She does have a very lovely goldfish, however.
Mr. Davidson is MacNamara’s twin brother and Hidgens’ ex. His wife is a genuine bona fide Batman-level hero in a bigger city, so he occasionally gets kidnapped or tortured. Hidgens still writes him bitter and mildly threatening love ballads that he genuinely treasures and sends very heartfelt thank you notes for. His life is so messy. There’s so much drama. He’s also completely powerless and cheerful about it. (Re: the Working Boys.... he’s Chad. Chad MacNamara Davidson.)
Alice is developing absolutely no superpowers and she’s really really annoyed about it. She used to take this out on Lex, as teenagers will, but after Lex dropped out she began to regret that. Too little and much too late, but regret is regret. She keeps trying to mend that bridge, but it’s not working. Unfortunately for her, she’s still been seen with Lex and Ethan, and that’s enough. Imminent danger perceives no difference between friend and foe. Alice is full of a very different kind of potential, however, and sooner or later all that bottled-up anger and stress will lash out.
Deb, on the other hand, is an intern at the Board of Directors’ headquarters, which is now St. Damien’s given that Becky is in charge. Interns for heroes are much less common than henchmen working for villains, but Deb has a keen interest in coordination and overseeing operations. Bill hates having her on comms for missions, but she’s just... so good at her job. She can brew a pot of Red Bull twice-steeped coffee, arrange a date with Alice, avoid an international incident, redirect PEIP and talk Bill through defusing a bomb in the same ten-minute stretch. Lesbians can do anything. This is a fact. They are the backbone of our society.
Hot Chocolate Boy is full of secrets. And hot chocolate.
And speaking of St. Damien’s, do you recall poor Bridgette, who lost her eyesight in a horrible accident? I’m not saying Hatchetfield is going to have it’s very own Matt Murdock expy, but I am saying that. She’s blind, she’s Catholic, and she’s coming for your kneecaps.
Linda is a very low-level villain who operates out of her husband’s office and sics her Boating Club on people. Gerald should technically be a threat, given that it’s the Monroe family prerogative to slaughter rising heroes with an alacrity that distinguished them from all the other families in Hatchetfield. He is not. He’s barely even a henchman. Linda got all the bloodlust between the two of them, and she is out for blood from the start. Though initially quickly defeated, she grows in seriousness over the course of time and ends up a formidable threat with a weighty grudge against Becky and Lex. She’s not much in a physical fight, Linda, but she is deeply, deeply vindictive, and she’s willing to make any deals she has to to bring Becky down. Any deals. With anyone. Anything.
Sherman Young is a mob boss, and you know it. He’s a real creep and he’s got some sick hobbies, even for a man in his line of work, but somehow the 80s jacket and the comb-over mullet make it all worse. He’s the richest man in town, and that’s saying something, but if Linda has a say in things he won’t be for long. The Youngs, the Monroes, and the Perkins have been at war since the founding of the town, and Sherman is cutting down his competition. He might have even arranged for Jane’s accident to happen, but nobody is sure. Nobody living, anyway.
Sam is a villain. He’s not super or anything. He’s just a villain. He’s top-tier Joker-level normie, but he still goes toe-to-toe with all kinds of heroes. Notable for being pretty much exactly the same as his show counterpart in regards to his proclivity for threats and violence. He once told Paul to “talk to his fucking gun” only to find that Paul is, despite all outward appearances, fucking immortal. He is still very embarrassed about it. He’s up and coming in the Hatchetfield Villain circuit, but he’s definitely a threat. To who? Who can say. Somebody, somewhere.
Papa Ed is a PEIP informant, and he has the ability to speak to animals. He’s raising Peanuts to be a very small, very enthusiastic little squirrel spy.
Man in a Hurry is a former speedster who lost his powers and compensates for it by Being In A Hurry at all times.
Homeless Man is a CCRP agent. He specializes in camouflage and compassion. He doesn’t remember what came before, but he knows something did, and finding out what it was is all he has left to hope for.
Howard Goodman does not have superpowers, but he’s got gumption. Okay, I lied. He doesn’t have gumption. But he’s a very nice man.
#black friday#starkid#tgwdlm#Golden Age AU#masterpost#long post#[finger guns] love these idiots#this is SO LONG#and i tried not to spoil everything#there’s some stuff i’m keeping in store bc :)) i can
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Paradox
Summary: Naruto and Sasuke’s fight lead them both to the future, in which things have gone very, very wrong. Things need to be made right, for both Sakura and her daughter, Sarada, as well as their own futures. Heavily inspired by Twitch & Spaz’s ‘Fast Forward’ series (pretty well a remake with added elements).
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Fanfiction.net (Chapter 1)
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01. Past Shenanigans
He found himself chained down in a hospital bed. How did he know it was a hospital? Well, there was an IV drip sticking out of him and the scent of disinfectant filled his nose. Also, the room was pure white and sterile. How did he know he was chained? Well, he tried to stretch and move, but no. He couldn’t. Chakra stronger and potent than his own stopped him from moving.
Next to him, was the blond knuckleheaded ninja. Albeit, less chained up. Literally, in no cuffs of any description. He was snoring annoyingly loud with a bubble of snot dripping out his nose. Sasuke’s nose scrunched up in disgust.
The boy closed his eyes and asked for his chakra to flood to the surface, but… nothing. Zilch. Nada. It wasn’t working. This was weird. Even for him. Even in his life.
Opening his eyes again, he looked around once more. Nurses were coming in and out of view of the window on the door, before he saw a familiar blonde – Tsunade – walk in. The woman looked the same as always, young and her face full of make-up, even though she was much older than many would expect. At least, that was what he had heard. The older woman’s hazel eyes flickered onto Sasuke in disgust, before she glance over at Naruto with a deep fondness.
“You’re awake already,” she stated, moving to Naruto to check on his vitals and such, “I’m not even surprised that Naruto is still asleep,” she huffed.
Sasuke stayed silent.
After she tended to Naruto, her expression fell onto Sasuke once more. “I was surprised when you both came in,” she said softly, playing with her hair in almost an anxious way, “When I had heard that you were both apparently here, I didn’t expect this at all.”
“Stop talking in riddles,” Sasuke finally said rudely, “I have my goals, and you won’t stop me from reaching them.”
She almost looked sad as Sasuke said this, “Yes… your goals… I’m not even sure where to begin explaining what’s going on, and even if I should considering how delicate this is. Kakashi doesn’t even have an idea of what to do, and he’s the one running the show.”
‘What did she mean by that?’
The two then heard the tell-tale signs of someone waking up, with a loud yawn and a groan. The blonde ninja sat up and looked around, rubbing his eyes before grinning at Tsunade.
“I knew you’d get things sorted, Tsunade-baa-sama!” he said cheerfully, his grin wide.
The older woman almost looked like she had seen a ghost when Naruto had begun speaking, and the boisterous kid didn’t really realise what was going on. Not that either of them really understood why things were… different. The Uchiha looked down at his chakra bound hands. He couldn’t put them together to make any hand signs, and he also couldn’t move his feet.
Her smile was pained, “Of course, Naruto… I… have some things to tell you, but I think I’ll wait until Sakura and Kakashi get here...”
Sasuke scoffed, “Why do they need to be here? You’re the Hokage, aren’t you?”
“Not anymore,” she said, not looking in Sasuke’s direction.
She didn’t say much more than that.
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.
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ANBU arriving in her office was not shocking, but what they said definitely shocked her, “Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke are here...”
‘What? Why?’
Her green eyes flickered in hesitation as she looked away for a moment. Memories of the latter forming in her head like a drum. It hurt to remember that. She bit her lower lip and asked for more information, which the ANBU was not willing to provide.
(“How did this happen!?” she cried out, clutching onto Naruto’s cold arm, as Kakashi rested his hand against hers, “Why…?”
“He was too far gone, Sakura,” referring to the man that Sakura had once loved.
“…”)
Sighing heavily, she willed herself to meet with her once-teacher, and get to the bottom of this.
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The medic-nin found herself at the front of the hospital. She had just come in from home, having been working at home from the moment. It was just easier like that for the time-being. She ruffled her long, pink hair nervously, running her fingers through it and catching any knots. The woman took a heavy breath and made her way inside.
One of the nurses were fiddling with their phones, no doubt using the new social media widgets that had recently been created. It was a phenomenon, and it was so shocking to see how much had changed in fifteen years. It was so different to what she had grown up with. Radios had only just been created back then, and now you could watch interviews and such on the television now. The dark-haired nurse jumped and hastily put away her phone and put on a friendly smile.
“Haruno-sama! I didn’t think you’d be in today,” she said, quite shocked.
“Where is Tsunade-shishou? Sakura asked coolly, wanting to get down to the bottom of what the hell was going on.
She had last seen Naruto thirteen years ago… Sasuke thirteen and a half years ago… Why would they return now? She knew that the latter was causing many issues all around the world with his army, but… he had yet to touch the Leaf, but she was sure their time was coming. He was leaving them till last, probably to savour it, the sick bastard he is. She knew he was alive, but Naruto? She assumed that he had been killed by Sasuke… but… She didn’t want to believe that…
But why wouldn’t the blond, knuckle-headed ninja not return if he was alive? He had so much here that he would not have been willing to give up.
“Oh, um,” the nurse started, “Room 206. In the restricted zone.”
‘Ah,’ Sakura thought, ‘It makes sense that they would be kept away from general populace.’
Sakura swallowed, before making her way to the elevator, “Thanks, Riko-san.”
“No worries, Haruno-sama.”
It was time to face whatever demons that she had held back in the past.
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“You fucking idiot, Sasuke-teme!” Naruto snarled, nearly ripping out of his sheets after Sasuke had uttered something rather insulting.
The two boys were glaring at each-other with venom and malice, particularly from Sasuke’s end. Sasuke had had enough of being here. He would have been in Sound already, if it weren’t for these bindings that these stupid shinobi had placed him into. No, he was still here - still weak. He should be getting stronger under Orochimaru’s guide, and getting ready for the fight of his life time. He had goals, dammit.
Naruto had ruined that for him, for the moment.
“What makes you think I can’t get out of this, and come over there and kill you, dobe?” Sasuke drawled, inky eyes flicking dangerously with the crimson of the sharingan. Rage. He felt that at the moment. He shouldn’t be here.
“As if you could!” Naruto shouted back, his own rage storming beneath his bluey depth, “You’re a damn idiot, Sasuke-teme! You know that Kakashi-sensei could train you better than that stupid snake.”
No, he couldn’t. Kakashi could make Sasuke strong, that was for sure. But not quickly enough. Kakashi was the copy-cat shinobi who also carried the fabled sharingan. But… Orochimaru and Kakashi were different in their training styles, no doubt. The young Uchiha wanted to kill Itachi as quickly as possible, then he would figure out what he needed to do after.
Tsunade was watching the two fight in astonishment, she had forgotten how ruthless the two were. The two boys were like chalk and cheese, completely different people, but they were definitely similar in the sense of their strengths now. That was for certain. Tsunade could feel the coolness of the chakra from Sasuke, while Naruto’s was warm with a dark underlying presence. The kyuubi, no doubt.
“Naruto, Sasuke,” the older woman sighed, “Shut up, and wait.”
A gentle knock was heard at the door, and both boys tore their attention to the sound.
And then, the door opened.
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Sakura wasn’t sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t this. In front of her stood the two younger boys that she remembered fondly from the team seven days. Her eyes fell onto Naruto first - his hair was scraggier than it was when he got older, and blue and orange stood out the most for him. His eyes were the same gentle but confident blue that she remembered. He looked shocked to see her, his mouth agape. She was sure she had the same expression on her own face.
And then her eyes fell on… him.
Sasuke was wearing his blue hooded shirt, with the usual bandages around his arms. His hair was formed in spikes up the back, and he was smaller than what she had remembered. His dark eyes were as smouldering as always, and dangerous… definitely. This was the younger Sasuke who had yet to commit any of the atrocities that she had heard of. And had dealt upon her. This was the younger boy that was wrapped up in revenge, but still gave a damn about his teammates. Sakura had always wondered if he had originally left to protect them too… that she wouldn’t be surprised of.
“What the hell?” Naruto barked, “Why do you look so old? But like hot?”
The two boys were looking at her as if she was an alien, and Sakura understood the feeling well. This was… weird. She knew they were not the same Sasuke and Naruto that she had last seen, no. These were the younger ones. They were weaker, and smaller and just - even their chakra felt different. Even if it was only slight on Naruto’s end, but Sasuke’s… it was dark and cold.
Tsunade sighed and rubbed her brow, “I don’t even know where to begin…” her attention fell onto Sakura, “Kakashi is currently in a meeting, so he won’t be here for a while…”
“They’re not from this time, shishou?” Sakura asked, her eyes not leaving the two, “What…?”
Sasuke seemed to come to this realization too, but Naruto yelled out, “What? How!? All we were doing was fighting in the Valley of the End, and I don’t know how--”
The two women looked at one another, “The clash of rasengan and chidori?” Tsunade said softly, looking at the boys for their agreement.
Naruto nodded, while the younger Uchiha watched on sourly.
“That’s… weird,” Sakura said softly.
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Sakura looked completely different. She was older, curvier and her hair was longer, kept back in a loose pony-tail. This woman was… beautiful, even Sasuke had to admit. Her lips painted with a light shade of red. Her eyes did not really meet his… however, and that made him uncomfortable. The boy did not understand what was going on, other than the time travel part. How far ahead were they? Was Itachi dead?
The latter question was ringing in his head. Where was his older self now? Was he powerful? If Itachi was dead, then yes… he was. But he didn’t have the answer for that yet. He made the mental note to ask later on, but for now, he needed information on how to get back. He still had his goals in the past that still needed to be completed, and for that… he needed to go back.
The two women talked to each-other quietly, which annoyed Sasuke. They were doing this on purpose, and the two boys were still very far in the dark. What year was it? How old were they in this timeline?
Naruto had hopped out of bed at this point, “Hey, c’mon! This involves us too! What’s going on?” he whined interrupting the two women.
Within seconds but, Sakura had engulfed the blond in a tight hug which made Naruto squeak. He did hug her back however, but he didn’t understand why she was hugging him so tightly.
Sasuke pursed his lips, watching in irritation, he was sure he was also about to get the same attention. However, when Sakura dropped the hug and kissed Naruto on the cheek, she look his way sadly. But didn’t come close. This… was weird. Sakura was weird in this timeline, Sasuke decided. He was used to being the centre of attention when it came to her, and this was just… weird. He didn’t really know what else to say about it.
“Hey, Sakura-chan! Are you okay?”
She had covered her face with her palm at this point, and the light shake let Sasuke know that the woman was crying. Why was she upset? What could be upsetting her at this time? It was odd.
Tsunade patted her student on the back before her attention fell onto both boys, “Well… we should probably begin explaining some things to you both. First, the Sasuke of this time haven’t been seen in over a decade in this village. Naruto was… killed in the Valley of the End twelve years ago…” Tsunade’s expression became dull and sad, reminiscing on the boy that was killed by the dark avenger.
“What!?” Naruto shouted, obviously surprised by all of this, “You killed me!?”
Sasuke would have covered his ears if he could, instead he just gave the hyperactive boy a feral look. He… wasn’t sure himself, really. Even with the fight with Naruto just now, he wouldn’t have brought himself to end Naruto’s life. Why did his elder self do it? Was it for the power of the mangekyou sharingan? He stayed silent, not wanting to give his feelings away on the matter, just eyeing Naruto wearily.
The roseate hummed softly, “After that… well, one by one the villages have all slowly went down under Sasuke’s rule - and their groups’, by extension. From what our scouts have gathered, their group - Taka - have been pillaging them, and taking all their resources. They’re a powerful group of war criminals… we’re in war at this moment. Uchiha Obito is also apart of that group.”
‘Another Uchiha - what? And war?’ Sasuke was perplexed. This was wrong. All of this. While he normally wouldn’t care what would happen to others, this was bad. The world was being destroyed by his future self at this moment, and his rag-tag group of criminals. The Uchiha avenger swallowed, looking at his hands now, unable to meet anyone’s gaze.
Tsunade spoke now, “There’s many more things that are going on, but for the moment,” she clicked her fingers, and the bounding around Sasuke evaporated, “We should find somewhere else to speak for now,” her attention was on her previous student, “Would your house be okay? She’s not home, right?”
The roseate nodded her head, “Yeah… she should be at the academy, I’m sure it’ll be fine for now. Just for an hour, however.”
The raven-haired boy’s head tilted at this.
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Sakura’s home was beautiful. That was the best way to put it. It was decorated in pastel colours, and while it was a bit bright for his liking, it was definitely Sakura. She had prepared everyone a cup of tea, and was finishing up in the kitchen now. Sasuke’s dark eyes focused on his hands, flexing his fingers before stretching his arms. He was happy to be out of his bindings, but he was surprised that they had let him out rather easily… maybe it was because between both Sakura and Tsunade, they would easily be able to stop him. While Sakura had not shown anything, it was clear that she was a lot stronger now.
Like her former teacher, she had a small diamond in the centre of her forehead that, from what Sasuke had been told, assisted in both strength and healing. She was a medical shinobi now, and was surviving. Very well, it seemed. Her house was maybe three bedrooms, with one definite bathroom. It was quite large and just a little outside of the main centre of town. It was actually bordering on the Uchiha district… which did make Sasuke frown when they were headed that way.
He couldn’t find himself to continue to be offended, however.
Taking a sip of the warm, black tea made him feel a little bit better.
Sakura re-entered the room and sat down next to Naruto. Tsunade had left moments ago, saying that she was going to inform Kakashi of what was going on, and that he needed to be here. Kakashi, from what Sakura had explained, was now the Hokage. That had shocked both himself and Naruto.
(“Before you died, Naruto, we were going to announce to you that you would be the next Hokage in a few years. Kakashi would begin training you immediately.”)
Sasuke took a heavy breath. It… was sad.
“I think… what will be going down, is that we will need to figure out what exactly caused your leap in time,” Sakura said, humming as she sipped her green tea, “I don’t know too much about that sort of thing, and I don’t think it’s really been documented… except for that one time that Naruto got sent back in time, but that was different again.”
Naruto blinked, “I - what?”
Sakura laughed dryly, “Yeah, it was funny actually.”
Her expression changed for a moment, before turning into a heavy scowl. She stood up abruptly, and wandered out into the hallway, towards the entrance of the house.
“Sarada! I know you’re in here,” she said harshly.
‘Sarada?’
In seconds, a girl with dark hair and red glasses appeared in front of the table. Her brows forming into a scowl. “Who are these people, mama?”
Sasuke blinked a few times before the girl seemed to realise something, and her eyes bled to… red?
Word: 3200 approx.
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Hey here’s another alt of the cast, because apparently I hate myself or something. (that’s a joke, mostly) Here are the ‘canon breakers’. Originally known as the ‘dark’ alts, I realized not all of them were that dark. But they are all based off breaking canon soul lore so. ‘Canon Breakers’ it is.
However I should warn, some of these versions are for the most part, built on much darker themes and touch on delicate subjects. These mini bios are short, but might still be bothersome to some. Please be careful.
Undertale Sans/Magister : Is highly manipulative. He seems passive, but is always pulling the strings. Even when it seems like someone was doing something he didn’t want, it’s inevitable that it will actually be working in his favor.
Undertale Papyrus/Hero : Delusional, with a hardcore savior complex. He will help everyone, whether they truly need it or not. He plows right over anyone else’s will to do what he believes to be “correct”.
Underfell Sans/Blossom : Skittish and fragile in many ways. He’s prone to outbursts of anger but quickly reverts to fawn out of trained fear. He’d do and has done everything for his brother, to his clear detriment.
Underfell Papyrus/Boss : Very much full of himself, but also able to back it up. He has a cruel streak, but doesn’t usually seek to harm people specifically. He does let his temper get the best of him at times, and expects everyone to bow to his whims.
Underswap Sans/Marauder : Leans into his “cute” image heavily, all the while playing everyone for the fools he thinks they are. He’s convinced even his brother he is this sweet innocent being in need of guarding, all the while indulging in untold levels of debauchery. He doesn’t care who gets hurt, as long as he gets his way.
Underswap Papyrus/Smoke : Wildly moody. At times he can seem a chill sort to vibe with and at other times he flips to a cruel and vindictive being. His words cut deep and he has driven people over the edge before. He is wildly possessive and unpredictable.
Swapfell(Red) Sans/Chain : Very much full of himself. A violent megalomaniac prone to incoherent tantrums. The problem is, that when his rage tapers off, the grudge still exists and his true cleverness can shine through.
Swapfell(Red) Papyrus/Jackal : Apathetic and cool. He does as he pleases. While he never goes out of his way to break laws or rules, he also doesn’t care if he does. He obeys his brother mostly to humor him, but also enjoys being an ass about it. Malicious compliance is one of his favorite things.
Horrortale Sans/Han : A ruthless, sadistic hunter. At times he can be good company. Good, albeit dark, humor, a relaxed confidence, he can be quite pleasant to be around. However, he is also willing and able to kill damn near anyone at the drop of a hat, and rather enjoys it.
Horrortale Papyrus/Lector : He doesn’t enjoy killing per se, but he has no issue with it either. He does enjoy rather dangerous and violent traps, and gets a thrill out of startling people. However, more than anything, he loves to consume. Food, media, anything.
Swapfell(Purple) Sans/Hyde : A very broken, shell of a skeleton. Not only pushed away, but violently abandoned by his brother, he seeks to regain Addict’s company at any cost. Unfortunately this desperation goes unanswered, and Hyde often finds himself chasing a hopeless dream.
Swapfell(Purple) Papyrus/Addict : Entirely self-driven. He has absolutely no care for the wants or needs of anyone else. He enjoys causing problems on a larger and more malicious scale than his original counterpart. Cruel, selfish, and above all, greedy.
Fellswap Gold Sans/Vincere : A much more controlled megalomaniac. He has an extreme sense of self importance. His opinion is the correct one, and everyone should obey him at all times. His word is law, and he deserves to be revered.
Fellswap Gold Papyrus/Servire : There isn’t much of a person left in him. Quiet, stoic, the perfect soldier in that he follows commands to a T without question. He no longer bothers with his “silly childish hobbies” and rarely interacts with anyone.
Underlust Sans/Nox : Ever since the loss of his child, has been desperate for another. He doesn’t care about anyone else’s wants in the matter, only that he gets to have his kid. When not actively seeking that eventuality, he’s wild and over indulgent.
Underlust Papyrus/Lux : Leans just as far into his “otherness” while also using it to his direct benefit. Rather than the largely passive actions of his counterpart, he manipulates people and events to get his way. He’s garnered quite the following, and they all bow to his whims fervently and without question.
Dancetale Sans/Locke : He exists in a constant fog of sorrow, which he cannot source. This leaves his struggling to understand why he feels as he does, and leads to him withdrawing so as not to “drag others down with him”.
Dancetale Papyrus/Twist : Questions his own value desperately, and in turn seeks validation from any and all sources. It doesn’t matter how bad or toxic the situation or relationship. If he is being acknowledged he will cling. He can be prone to outbursts if he feels he’s “falling out of favor”.
Outertale Sans/Atlas : Is convinced he must ‘save’ this backwards time, and is very cross about it. His temper is short but burns dangerously cold.
Outertale Papyrus/Sisyphus : Is literally incapable of experiencing negative emotion, which makes for a very strange life experience. All of his “empathy” is built on book knowledge and watching people, as he truly has no practical point of reference.
Farmtale Sans/Dust : He ultimately won against Frisk, but at what cost? Driven to kill everyone before Frisk could, he came out victorious and left the barrier, but now he is alone, and haunted by his choices. He tries to keep to himself, eke out a quiet, isolated living, but that isn’t always allowed.
Farmtale Papyrus/Rot : Full of anger, sorrow, bitterness and hate, he feels his death was meaningless and rages over having life stripped from him. He will influence or at times outright possess Dust, pushing him into killing sprees. At other times, regret sinks in, and he tries to comfort his beloved brother, only for the rage to seep back in and take over once more.
G!Sans/Beller : All of the impulse, none of the regard for the saftey of others. He does as he please with little consideration for anyone beyond his brother. He goes where he wants, takes what he wants, and lives like to the fullest, even if it means someone else suffers.
G!Papyrus/Ophon : All the science, none of the morals. He doesn’t go out of his way to hurt people, but won’t let it stop him from testing a theory either. He figures a few bad tests will likely make things better or easier for the survivors later, so oh well.
Bermudatale Sans/Shoal : Has absolutely no interest in leaving the island, and uses his role as Judge to ensure the barrier remains intact. Anyone who arrives on their shores and finds themselves comfortable settling in, is allowed to stay, but anyone with delusions of “saving the monsters” meets a swift end. This is the only circumstance that will push Shoal into action. He likes his peaceful, slow, life, and will allow no one to take it from him.
Bermudtale Papyrus/Reef : He is very similar to the classic form, but minus most of the self control, or understanding of other peoples limits. He pushes not only himself but everyone else to and past their limits, and fails to understand when people can’t keep up.
There we are, the spin offs of a spin off of a collection of spin offs. Lmfao. I’ll have the ladies done and posted at some point as well. c:
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Twin Snowflakes 18: A better day
“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!” Yang shouted, her voice echoing through the summer Menagerie air at her young, ten year old daughter. “What did I say about fighting!?” Veronica wiped her soiled face and snarled. Her eyes were completely feral and nails extended.
“STOP YELLING AT ME! YOU’RE HURTING MY EARS!” Veronica tried running past Yang but her arm was grabbed and pulled back. She kept pulling and struggling but couldn’t break free from the grip. “Let me go!”
“We aren’t done talking!” Yang said firmly, try to keep her voice lower than before. “You have to learn to control your temper!”
“I can’t!”
“Can’t, or won’t?” Yang watched her daughter’s eyes start to water.
“What does it matter!? They’d hate me anyways and it’s you and mom’s fault! I HATE YOU!!” Her words stunned Yang. Veronica took the opportunity to bite her hand, making Yang wince and let go. Veronica sprinted off on all fours into the jungle, crying. Leaving Yang feeling more concerned than hurt.
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That same concern would continue on multiple occasions. Sometimes more frequently or intense than others. Now it reared its ugly head again as she sat at the bottom of the Schnee manor stairs waiting for her kid to walk through the front door with Nick. Jaune and Weiss were also waiting after Penny had given them the call about what apparently happened at school. They definitely weren’t happy, but they too were more concerned, considering the report on Nick’s health. It was common for the boy to get under the weather. Constant working does that to the body.
“Any minute now.” Jaune said, the calmest of them all. “Remember, let’s not bombard them right out of the g-” the front door opened before he could finish. Both mothers all but ran to it. “Gate…”
“Veronica Nala Belladonna.” Was all the girl heard as she entered the room. Middle names were never a good sign. She winced as if she had gotten a cut at the words and looked at her mother stare at her. Veronica’s ears folded as she let out a sigh. “I know, I messed up. Thought I had it under control but I couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Ya think?” Yang huffed. “Why do you think I tell you all the time to let me make you a breakfast that’ll help. What if you had gotten hurt? Or seriously injured another kid!? We’re lucky the media doesn’t know you’re here yet either or they’d-” The carefully controlled lecture tone was brought to a halt when Veronica walked forward and put her face down in Yang’s chest like a pillow. A muffled “I’m sorry” was heard surprisingly. Veronica looked up into Yang’s matching lilac eyes while she still rested her tired head. “Veronica?”
“I’m still fatigued. It was bad, not the worse,but it was pretty bad.” She pointed at Nick to draw attention to the bruise he still had. Veronica stood up straight in front of his parents and bowed at the best. “Your son was hurt because of me. I apologize…” Nick walked you to her, sheepishly rubbing his head. “It was my bad actually. You know me, charging in without a plan.” He tried laughing but the pain in his nose made it difficult.
Weiss shook her head. “That I understand just fine, but running out of school?”
“I panicked.” He admitted, “also I caught a slight fever so grounding me then sending me to my room is a little mute.” Nick joked. He wanted to break the tension. All the parents looked at each other before turning back. “We aren’t grounding you.” Jaune spoke, “Flynt called and the two boys involved already gave their side of the story and at minimum, Veronica and a student body member will visit his office tomorrow to get the other side of the story.”
“That’s fair.” Veronica stretched. Her body was still trying to settle down a bit. “Is it alright if I go lay down for a bit? Please?” Yang gave her an observing look. Veronica could tell she was looking at her features to make sure she was okay. “Ma I’m fine, also full. Penny’s lab turned into a glorified pizza place.” Yang motioned to the stairs and Veronica went on her way.
“Take a shower first!” Yang chimed.
“Will do.” Nick watched the girl disappear before looking back at the grown ups who were still beaming at him. “Uhhh yes?” Yang walked over and patted his head.
“Thanks for looking after her. I owe ya.”Nick smiled, giving a thumbs up. “Seeing what you said happen in action was an experience. I’ll be sure to watch out for friendly fire next time.”
“Your nose should be broken. Veronica hits hard.” Jaune chimed. He activated his semblance and quickly healed his son’s face. “All better.”
“Thaaaank you!” He sniffled. It was hard not to wish the Arc semblance was the hereditary one sometimes. “I’m going to head off to my room too. I hope Summer remembers all of our stuff. Running out of school isn’t a really good excuse for missing assignments I assume.” Nick took his leave, going to his room as well. Step by step through the halls brought a rhythmic pounding to his head. Sluggish didn’t begin to describe how he felt. Reaching his room felt like a dream come true, or a fever dream anyways. The boy basically stumbled in. Minutes later, Weiss knocked on his door before entering without permission. Her arms crossed and the corner of her lips turned down as she looked at her son that sat on the edge of his bed. His face was redder than down stairs and all of his enthusiasm had vanished; not like it was actually there to begin with. Weiss knew a brave face when she saw one. She knelt down and pressed her hand against Nick’s forehead. Weiss might as well have been touching a heater.
“I look worse than it actually is.” Nick weakly smiled. His mother was having none of it and frankly, he was fortunate for that. Gods know he wouldn’t slow down on his own.
“No school tomorrow for you.” Weiss ordered. “Go run a cold shower for your fever. I’ll make you some stew and bring medicine. This bed is going to be your best friend for at least the rest of the day, no debate.” Weiss waited for protest but it never came. First Veronica and now him, they really were at their limit. Weiss helped Nick up and walked him to one of their many bathrooms. “You know, it��s been awhile since you threw a party or anything. Not even an ‘outing’ of some sort.” Weiss put emphasis on outing. Both of her kids would occasionally want to go around town at night to relax when in reality, both of them would sneak down to Mantle’s harbor. There were plenty of empty warehouses to have underground concerts and raves. Both Jaune and Weiss knew about it but Weiss can’t really blame them. She used to do similar and worse things when she snuck out. Rich kids can’t escape rich problems. The only thing she’s actually said about their late night adventures was an off hand comment about how they better be as clean as they were coming home, as they were leaving the house; the twins immediately knew she wasn’t referring to surface level dirt. As long as that order was followed and nothing extreme happened then she’d let them have freedom.
“I thought about it but too much is going on. Maybe after the tournament. It would be terrible to have some kind of incident before it.”
That was fair. The twins would be crushed otherwise. “Good idea. After the both of you compete, you should do some kind of fun after party. I’ll let you use the yacht.” Weiss saw Nick’s eyes light up a bit. She’d never understand why he loved that boat so much. “Sounds good?”
Nick chuckled, “Sounds great, and it’ll sound perfect once I win gold.”
xxxx
Karma is a dangerous being and Summer was finding that out the hard way. Not only did she have to carry Veronica and Nick’s belongings, but was alone! Valerie was busy with after school activities so Summer never got the chance to ask for help, which might’ve been for the best. If Valerie wanted space from Nick then there was no reason to complain when she realizes that he got into a fight. Though it might’ve been that kind of thinking that put Summer in this situation. Two bags and a backpack was heavier than she’d imagined. Thank goodness it wasn’t a textbook day. Still, all of Vee’s belongings took time to put up. At least she was getting work done before shit hit the fan, especially her designs. Summer tried to pick up the pace. Following the order to get some calcium in her was already paying off. It’s only been a day and yet Summer felt good, more alert even. A good and a bad thing unfortunately; Shiva is no doubt jumping for joy as well. The annoyance was getting one of few things that she wanted. Conversely, Summer was starting to think that maybe this change in her diet could potentially mean resisting Shiva might be easier. Anything would help at this point. It was a day in and day out battle that Summer hated. Her body, her mind, even her very soul, bit by bit she could that she was breaking in the worst way possible. Like glass on the verge of cracking by a high not. If she wasn’t careful of Shiva’s antics then all hell would freeze over.
Summer made it a few more blocks before feeling a little tired. If only she made it to bus in time. She wanted to take a break but the winter season brought the dark early. Darkness meant it got colder and that was a major no no. “What I wouldn’t give for a speed semblance right now, or a functioning summon to carry all this crap.” She thought, a little irritated by the fact her brother actually made an Arma Gigas. “Can’t let him get too far ahead of me. I’ll never pull my weight then.” Summer let her thoughts drift off a little too much. The girl didn’t pay attention to a truck clearing snow off the road and onto the sidewalks. By the time she did, a wave was headed right for her. The girl gasped, quickly activating her thermals. The weight of everything made it impossible to dodge so she just had to endure, until a warm blast of air that felt like it belonged to the tropics, brushed by her and melted the snow. Summer was confused by what just happened.
“Across the street.” A voice called out. Summer looked behind her to see Eliza standing on the opposite side sipping a coffee. “You have a real problem with spacing out, you know that right?” Eliza wasn’t planning on going in the same direction as Summer but decided to cross the street to her since they were clearly going to end up talking. “Can’t you, like blow gusts of wind if you try hard enough?” Eliza didn’t know the specifics of Summer’s condition, but the sensitive Schnee had told her a little of it in an attempt to explain many different absences to both school and meetings.
Summer clicked her tongue, “I could’ve tried, but then the road would probably get ice on it. What brings you this way?” Summer made a mischievous smirk. “Ooo were you going to check in my brother? How sweet.” She playfully laughed until Eliza scared her with a stern look. “It was a joke…”
“Yeah a terrible one.” Eliza deadpanned. She freed Summer of the backpack, choosing to carry it herself. “But I did hear a little of what happened in excruciating detail.”
Summer was perplexed.“Th...that sentence doesn’t make-”
“I will help you all the way to your front gate and then I’ll be on my way.”
“Don’t you have somewhere you had to be? You don’t have to go out of your way for me.”
Eliza pulled out a gold pocket watch. “I got time, they’ll still be open for a while.” She could tell Summer was interested in what she was talking about. “I’m telling you…”
“Awww, well thanks anyway.” She smiled. Eliza started walking, ignoring the happy gesture. “You can thank me by keeping your brother out of trouble. I need him focused on our rematch.” Summer could only feel sorry for her brother now. His luck with girls was atrocious. All of them want to take him down a peg in one way or another! Even she wanted to outdo him! Summer made a mental reminder to ease up on him in the upcoming days, except for singing. Family or not, he was going to sing every note well with passion or she would personally throw him off her stage. Mediocrity had no place next her. Then again, sharing the stage was always a big problem.
“You’re spacing out again!” Eliza shouted, already several feet away. Summer yelped and began to jog. “Sorry!”
xxxx
The extra company definitely made the walk feel shorter, even if they barely talked. Summer did notice that Eliza’s coffee was perpetually hot despite the weather. It made her wonder just how much control Eliza had over her magic. It had been some time since she saw her actually practiced it. “Maybe she found a good training spot and that’s where she’s headed?” Summer thought as she climbed the steps to her front door. Surprisingly, Ruby stood at the top of them. “Auntie?”
“Hmm? Oh hey!” The huntress said when she noticed Summer. “I’d say fancy meeting you here, but this is your house.” Ruby laughed at her own lame remark. Summer walked to the door and unlocked it for her.“Thank you!”
“Auntie it’s my house. I had to walk in too.”
“I can still say thank you. Now I can surprise Yang even further. Watch this.” Ruby closed the door behind them and ran to the middle of the room, cuffing her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice. “I wanna see my sister!” She sang.
The sound of quick footsteps traveled around another room until Yang slid into view in front of the kitchen doorway. The blonde sang back. “You can see your sister!” Ruby smiled and sang a little louder. “I wanna see my niece!!!!” Ruby held her arms straight up.
Veronica came through the second floor right on que. “You can see your niece!” She sang, falling right into Ruby’s arms. Followed by Yang hugging both of them. Summer always wondered where they got all that energy from. It could only be from their dad. Apparently it was genetic.
Summer waved Veronica’s bag. “Veronica come get your crap. It’s heavy.” The strap left her hand in the blink of an eye. Someone was clearly upset that I touched her stuff. “You could say thank you.”
“Yeah I could do that.” Was all Veronica said. Summer thought about starting an argument right then and there, but a bath was calling her name. “I’m going to warm up. Tell mom and dad I’m home.” On that note, up to her private bathroom she went.
Yang flicked Veronica’s forehead. “It’s not hard to be a little nice.”
“I will do that later. I still feel like a off.” The young faunus took a deep breath and covered her face with her bag. “Can you please...make some dinner, a dinner with actual meat?” She didn’t have to see Yang to know she was practically bouncing up and down.
“Let’s put some meat on those bones!” Yang cheered, running off. Not only was she happy for Veronica, but any day was a good day she could cook without following some rules a diet set up. Cooking should be fun and flavorful. Not filled with kale. “Ruby we can cook and chat like the old days. Get your but in here!”
Ruby looked at Vee. “Your mother is very excitable. That’s where you get that from.” Ruby rubbed her head then took off. Veronica could hear Weiss panic before the shouts started to sound happy. It was either because three fourths of the team was in the same spot, or she was secretly looking for help in the kitchen. Probably both if Veronica had to guess. She might’ve joined them but there was no way she could possibly deal with all of them at once at the moment. Instead she decided to see if Summer was competent enough to retrieve everything. It was certainly looking that way.
“Notes, lists, pens, journa- hold on…” Veronica reached for the journal and took a whiff. Odd, it smelled like Summer. That was a given, she had to put in the bag. What wasn’t right was each page. They all had her scent. Veronica could feel her stomach start to sink and her body shook a little. “That nosy...ugh!” Veronica didn’t waste time with the stairs and jumped right up to the second floor into her room, then crossed the hall. Both of her parents had taught her how important it was to respect boundaries ever since her semblance awakened but Veronica was having a hard time caring. Instead of knocking, she went through Summer’s door in a fit of anger. “HEY! Did y-”
“Gah!” Summer screamed, startled by the sudden entrance. So much in fact that the ground she sat on iced over faintly. The girl looked up at Veronica with tears that quickly tried to wipe away. “What...what do you want!?” She sniffled and groaned, equally annoyed as Veronica. But now Vee’s face looked less angry and more caught off guard. Something that pissed Summer off more. “What!? Can’t a girl cry in the comfort of her own room!?” She stood up and huffed. “It’s therapeutic! Oscar says sometimes you just need to take a minute and let all of your pent up feelings out so they don’t overwhelm you!” Summer couldn’t explain why she felt the need to defend her tears but she did.
Veronica simply looked at the girl. It would look pretty bad to chew her out while she’s crying, especially if she gets back on the floor. Though it was hard, Veronica took a breath and chose a slightly less aggressive approach, raising her journal. “Did you look through this?” She grumbled. Summer nodded slowly. Vee clenched her fist before continuing. “Why are you looking through my stuff?”
Summer could tell this wasn’t Veronica’s usual anger. No, this time she looked like she actually wanted to fight her. “I...I was curious my new outfit was in there. Then I kept flipping because your designs are actually pretty nice….” her voice trailed off. It had been awhile since she actually felt intimidated by the girl.
“Do not, and I repeat, do not go through my sketches unless I tell you to. Something that I probably will never do, got it?”
“Crystal.” Summer replied without delay.
“Good…” Veronica slowly stepped back until she reached the door. “I apologize… for not knocking.” She phased through the door, leaving Summer to continue whatever she wanted to do. Overreacting was a definite problem from Veronica. It was hard not to when she knew Summer saw the back of her book. Nothing but scratched out ideas and claws marks. If she was lucky, Veronica would know better than to ask.
“Great…” Veronica hissed. “Now two people feel like crying.” She tossed her journey into her room and went downstairs. After dinner she’d probably go to bed immediately. Today was a dud, she’d try to have a better day tomorrow.
xxxx
Tomorrow came sooner than expected. Thankfully the night was uneventful and the food was delicious. Veronica was feeling better about today, except for her meeting with the principal. That was gonna take the wind out of her sails. Vee rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and got dressed in her own uniforms that she managed to get yesterday before the chaos. It was still pretty early to leave the house. Time zone differences was still kicking her tail. “Best to stay inside for today. Ma will have a fit if I leave.” Veronica pulled out her scroll and texted Nick to see if he was awake, partly out of boredom and concern. Weiss had told her and Summer he was going to stay home today and they needed to be on their best behavior. A thumbs up emoji came up to signal that he indeed was awake and Veronica wasted no time quietly getting to his room.
The girl pushed gently on the door to his room and peeked in. “Pssssst!” She heard him chuckled and took it as an invitation to come inside. Nick still wasn’t looking too well. His face was less red, but the bags under his eyes said enough. “You should be sleeping.”
“I was until you texted me.” He watched his friend’s face drop. Veronica mentally chastised herself. “Of course he’s a light sleeper.” She thought. “Sorry, I could go if you want.”
“It’s fine, this works out.” He said in a sleepy voice that was strangely cute. “I wanna tell you to have a good day at school. Don’t let anyone piss you off okay?”
Veronica scrunched her face. That was easier said than done. “I’ll try my best, for you.” Nicholas laughed again and shook his head. “Do it for yourself, you dummy. I’ll be back tomorrow bright eyed and ready to go.”
“Yeah well you need some shut eye for that to happen first.”
“Yeah, yeah, one more thing-”
“I will play nice with Summer.” It was easy to predict that request. Nick smiled and dozed back off to sleep. Veronica dwelt the hair out of his face. To think he would fall asleep like that? Nick really was out of it. Veronica continued to admire him, blushing the longer she did. Without thinking she pushed his hair away from his forehead and started to lean down. One little goodbye peck on the noggin wouldn’t be so bad, right? Veronica could feel her face heating up as she closed her eyes…
“You could get sick you know?” Said Weiss, standing in the door frame with medicine and a cheeky smile. Veronica immediately jolted up as if she hadn’t just been caught red handed. “M- Mrs. Schnee!” She stuttered. “I didn’t hear you come in. Hehehe….” The innocent act fell apart as quickly as Veronica tried to attempt it. The poor girl covered her face to hide the embarrassment. “My bad, that was inappropriate.” She fiddled with her tail. An unexpected pat on the head by the mother of her crush made Veronica yelp. “This is a weird form of punishment.”
“Probably because it’s not punishment silly.” Weiss might’ve been on team Valerie, but she was more than happy to see Veronica act so lovingly around Nick. Weiss gave the girl her own forehead kiss. “Make good choices today. I believe in you, and so does Nick.” Veronica couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face. She nodded in agreement and went on to finish getting ready. Weiss pulled up a chair and sat next to her ill child. She put the back of her hand to his forehead. Nick’s hand suddenly rose up and took hold of it. He opened his eyes and smiled.
“Hey you, one guest after another.” He noticed the medicine and sat up against the backboard. “I can take it myself. Even if it’s absolutely disgusting.”
Weiss gave him the bottle of unpleasantly thick brown syrup. “Sorry to wake you. You can sleep to your heart’s content after this.”
Nick plugged his stuffy nose and chugged down the bottle. Weiss handed him a cup of orange juice to wash away the taste. He couldn’t even describe it. The closest he could think of mildew and broccoli. “Blegh!! What I wouldn’t give to never be sick.”
Weiss stared at him, annoyed by that statement. “Gee, have you tried taking care of yourself. You’d get sick less often. Crazy concept I know, but I hear it works.”
“Hardy har, I will take longer breaks when I can. Could you hand me my scroll?”
Weiss squinted. “Is it business related?” The silence she received was all she needed. “Why are you like this?”
“It’s actually important! It’ll take three minutes, honest!”
“Then let me text it.” Weiss grabbed the scroll. “Who am I looking for?”
“Eliza.” He groaned, it felt weird not having his scroll in his hand. “Found her?”
Weiss shook her head. “You have no contacts under E and the only M you have is me as Mom.”
Nick laughed. “She’s under W.”
Weiss scrolled down. “Whitley, Winter, Work Wife…” her brain stopped, having to reread that last one. “Work Wife?”
Nick nodded, still laughing to himself. “She bugs me enough about council things and treats the school like a house full of kids that we take care of. Work wife seemed appropriate.”
“Is she aware of this nickname?” Weiss questioned, raising an eyebrow that secretly thought the name was funny.
“Heavens no, she’d be so upset. I doubt my name is her phone as anything good anyways. Can you tell her I won’t be at school today and to be the council member to show up in the office with Veronica?”
Weiss gave a thumbs up and sent the message. His scroll started ringing not even ten seconds later. “Your work wife is calling.” Weiss decided now was a good time to give him his scroll. Something Nick was happy about at all as he answered it. “Hello?”
“I am going to strangle you…” Eliza said, the threat sounding genuine. “You wake me up with news like this? We don’t all wake up 4:30”
Nick had actually forgotten how early it was. For once he deserved one of her threats. “Sorry, I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
“You sound congested as hell. You really are sick. Not that I didn’t believe you. Hooky is your sister’s style. Speaking of her, why don’t you ask her to do this?”
“Her and Valerie don’t mix well with Veronica, or dumb and dumber. I need a level head in that office room that isn’t Flynt.” He let out a forced cough, putting a little more strain into it than there actually was. “Please…?” He said with a rasp.
“Mmmmgggghhh! You owe me for this.”
“What will it be? I doubt you want money.”
“Your money can shove it. I want you in top physical condition. Normally I’d ask for something a little more tangible but I did ask you to keep me in the loop, so I guess you can’t complain.”
Nick smiled. “You're the best.”
“No one likes a kiss ass.” She hung up. The conversation went better than he expected so it was a win in his book. He gave Weiss back his scroll and sunk back into his bed. “I guess I’ll try this rest thing, night.” Weiss kissed his forehead and left the room. Finally, Nick closed his eyes to get some much needed rest. The world could deal without him for a day, hopefully.
xxxx
Today was going to be better. Veronica was going to be a model guest, which is what she wanted to believe. A bus ride with loud gossiping teenagers had different ideas for her. Rumors had spread like wildfire in a matter of hours apparently. Each one nastier than the last, but she kept her head down and turned up her headphones. “Just ignore them.” She whispered to herself. Summer sat next to her doing the same. Normally she’d want the girl out of shouting distance, but there was no one else she’d want next to her. At least Summer wasn’t vile or daft. The two didn’t have a conversation, even though it might’ve been beneficial. Something about the silence was comfortable. Summer peaked over her way, her mouth opened with shock.
Veronica took out a headphone despite her cat ears being available. “What?” Summer pointed to Veronica’s phone. The screen displayed one of the covers Summer had put on her album. “Oh, that.” Vee shrugged, “Never heard me question your singing have you.” Veronica left it at that and put back in the headphone, turning to the window. She could still see the singer in the reflection, displaying a pleased smile on her face as she also went back to listening to music. Comfortable silence, the only language besides arguing the two were good at with each other. It was short lived when the ride ended. One by one, kids got off the bus and Eliza stood by the door waiting for woman of the hour. Veronica expected her to be the escort. “Let me guess, Nick?”
Eliza let out a long yawn. “Aaaaaahhh! Interrupted my sleep and everything. Didn’t I specifically tell you to keep in line?”
“You’ll come to learn that I was the kid who scribbled her drawings with the crayons she was given.”Veronica took the lead in their walk to the office. “However, I guess I should stay in the lines today huh?”
Eliza rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Frankly, I don’t expect this to end with a pretty picture.”
xxxx
A pretty picture was indeed not looking well. The two stood on the right side of the office while Darren and Max were on the opposite. Flynt sat at his desk with a cup of coffee Eliza was secretly eyeballing. The man could feel the obvious tension in the room and wanted to get through this as fast and efficiently as possible. “Ms. Belladonna, would you like to tell your side of the story?”
Veronica rubbed her chin. There were many ways to play this out. However, only one way interests her enough to seek out.
Actually…I’d like to hear the story they told first.”
Darren crossed his arms, “What, trying to weave a clever lie?”
“Don’t play coy. I want to know just how clever your lie has to call this meeting.” She shot back, pissing Darren off. “As an upperclassmen, you wouldn’t mind humoring little ol me, right?”
“Tsk, as I told our principal, you were in the way of our lockers. Instead of simply moving out of the way, you got snippy and I got a little snippy back. The amount of disrespect you showed was completely uncalled for. Then you decided to escalate the situation instead of apologizing, assaulting the both of us before Nick showed up to bail you out of trouble that you couldn’t deal with; choosing to fight us too, then running off with you before the faculty could arrive. Ain’t that right Max?” The giant of a man nodded. “More or less.”
“Of course he’d leave out the stupid out the stupid flirting and grabbing my tail; shouldn’t have expected full honesty.” She thought internally. If Veronica could slap the punk right now, she would. The look of Flynt’s face told her that he wasn’t buying their bullshit, but it’s all he had to go with. Until she said her take on it of course. “Funny, that’s not how I remember things.”
“And how exactly do you remember things?” Flynt asked. “I’m curious on how the stories differ. A friendly reminder that I have to take disciplinary measures depending on how things unfold from both stories.”
All eyes were on her now and like always, it was in unflattering circumstances. Veronica’s word against theirs. If she told the truth, then no doubt the principal would take her side, and yet there was a problem. One she refused to create. It was a good thing she got Darren to speak so freely. If today was going to start well, then a lie was going to be told. One in her favor, and theirs.
“Mr. Coal, these two men have some facts messed up, but their story is mostly spot on.” Darren and Max raised their brows while Eliza and Flynt spoke in unison. “It is?” They said, surprised.
“It is. I stood in front of their lockers and caught an attitude, they caught one back. Certain insults were thrown, mainly by me and I got upset when they said their own. I attacked, and the two of them couldn’t handle it.” The bits in her voice appeared for the last part. She could tell Darren wanted to say something but his smarter friend prevented him from speaking. “It honestly wasn’t fair. I got so mad that it was easy to knock them around like amateurs. That’s when Nick showed up.” The little joy she gained from her story turned into seriousness. If it was for him or her family, Veronica would lie to the end of the world. “He didn’t attack Darren and Max. He attacked me.”
Everyone once again looked shocked by her words. Veronica continued speaking. “You know Nick, always trying to defuse a situation. As president, he wasn’t going to let his upperclassmen suffer. He jumped right into the fray in an attempt to restrain me. Obviously limbs were flying everywhere, so he ended up hitting them a little. That’s why they think he was fighting them, but he was just trying to separate me. I ended up hurting him in the process. Nick grabbed me the moment he could and ran off with me so I couldn’t hurt anyone else. That’s what happened.” Her gaze was directed towards Max. Veronica knew if this was going to work then one of them had to play along. It was obvious Max had interest in reining in Darren and letting this incident breeze by.
The man understood the silent compromise. They get off as victims as long as Nick does as well. An option he could live with. He didn’t want a stupid fight to begin with. “I think she might be right.” He said. “I mean if Nick wanted to wail on us then leaving with her makes no sense.” Darren shot him a look of disbelief but it was no match for the quiet wrath of Max, silently telling his hot headed friend to not ruin this. Darre bit his lip and mumbled. “Hmph, that does make more sense.” It burned him up a little that a twirp like Nick was just made a hero for beating him up out of anger.
“Mr. Coal I take full responsibility for what transpired yesterday afternoon.” Veronica bowed. Her voice was even and she held back her frustration. “Please only give me the punishment. I was in the wrong so it’s only fair.”
Eliza was stunned by what was happening before her. Veronica had to know the truth would have shot their story to bits, yet she was willing to bare all the blame. It was unexpected to say the least.”
Flynt stood up from his desk. “Very well then. Darren, Max, you two may return to class. The two boys nodded and headed to the door. “Before you go, let’s make something clear.” Flynt walked past Veronica and stared the two of them in the eyes. “I expect nothing but good behavior from you two. Also, I do not care if you both are key players in this year’s tournament. If someone even hints towards either of you bullying a person, especially a faunus in any shape or form…” he put his full attention on Darren. “We will have a very long and private discussion.”
“I also expect any future problems to be taken to a trusted adult or the student council.” Eliza chimed in. “As a sophomore, it’s only right that I give my attention to my juniors. I will be sure to be more observant.” The venom in her voice was clear as day. The boys slowly walked out of the office and went to class.
“Thanks…” Veronica said to the two of them. I wasn’t expecting threats.
“Threats? We did no such thing.” Flynt sarcastically spoke, returning to his seat. “Now for your punishment.Veronica Belladonna, I expect this tournament to be the biggest yet worth your contribution. Don’t let me down.”
“Th-that’s it?”
Flynt didn’t even bother to look back at her. He just started typing. “If anyone asks, you wrote a three page apology to me. For the love of the Gods though, try to have someone around you so no more incidents like this happen again.
Eliza put an arm around Veronica and led her out. “Alright on it sir. Have a good morning.” She waved him goodbye and shut the door. “Okay then, let’s swing by the cafeteria and get some coffee.”
Veronica was still trying to piece everything together. “Wait, so you’re just volunteering now?”
“Someone has to. Now are you going to complain about getting away with fighting, or help me wake up?”
Today was going to be a better day. Veronica could feel it. “I’ll go get the mugs.”
Part 17
#rwby#rwby au#rwby twin snowflakes#jaune arc#weiss schnee#nicholas schnee#summer schnee#eliza marigold#veronica belladonna#yang xiao long#ruby rose#flynt coal#darren diabhalta#max winchester
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Drunk
In which David gets drunk and hurts himself
warnings: cursing, mention of death, alcohol, general stupidity
a/n: for the anon who requested an imagine from my Drabble list. For some reason it took me a while to write this and I’m still not 100% satisfied with it. But anyway... enjoy!
5. Call 911 this isn’t funny!
15. Wake up! Please, please wake up!
21. Can I kiss you?
word count: 2.5k
Music was blasting through the club, bouncing off the walls back to the people on the dance floor. It was friday night and Y/N and her friends had decided to go out. Y/N was seated at the bar next to Matt and Corinna, sipping her drink and enjoying the music that was currently playing. She watched her friends dancing in the crowd having a good time and smiled to herself. The love these moments filled her with was relieving. Moments, in which none of them was supposed to fill out a certain role for someones videos. They were just here to let loose and enjoy themselves. She focused on David showing off the most ridiculous dance moves next to Zane. She was so glad he let loose for tonight. It took her an hour to convince him not to take his camera with him today. The vlogger was always extremely focused on his work, trying to catch every bit of his and his friends' lives on camera to show it to the world. He loved his job and that was the main reason why he couldn't let go of his camera so easily. The other being that going to a party was the easiest way to get funny material out of his friends. Y/N saw this as sort of a teambuilding event for their group of friends. A break from all the social media and job pressure all of them found themselves under pretty much every day. So when she finally suggested to make this night a no technology one, not even mobile phones, she was surprised by the reactions of the vlog squad. They actually liked the idea.
Y/N checked the time: 2:49 am. They had been here for almost 4 hours now. Though her friends on the dancefloor didn't seem to mind, Y/N herself felt the alcohol wearing off and the tiredness kicking in. She rested her head on Corinnas shoulder sighing loudly to catch the blonde’s attention.
‘’You alright?’’ Corinna tried looking into her friends eyes, but struggled since they were closed and nuzzled into her neck.
‘’Yeah… just tired i guess.’’, Y/N shrugged, ‘’I think I’m gonna head home soon. What about you guys?’’
Now she caught Matts attention as well. He took in the tired ladies in front of him feeling a yawn creep up in his throat. He chuckled looking back to the dance floor as he watched his friends enjoying the evening.
‘’I’m down… though I don't know if those goofs are.’’ The tall boy pointed towards Zane and Scotty twerking on a bunch of girls, who were just laughing at the scene in front of them. But who would blame them? They did look ridiculous moving to the beat of the music and failing miserably as the alcohol had probably eliminated their feeling of rhythm throughout the past two hours.
‘’But now that I see… whatever that is’’, Matt waved his hand at the crowd, ‘’you might be right.’’ he shot the girls a crooked smile before jumping off his barstool and headed towards the crazy people they all called their friends.
Corinna cleared her throat: ‘’Are you really ok? I’ve noticed you watching David the whole evening. And don’t tell me it doesn't bother you that he was dancing with this random girl the entire night.’’ She looked at the girl next to her sympathetically as she caressed her shoulder with her hands.
Corinna and Y/N had known each other long before david and the vlog squad became a thing. They grew up together, living in the same neighborhood and visiting high school together. It was an understatement to say that Corinna knew Y/N. They had practically never parted ever since they met as kids. It was just natural for them to know each other's secrets and fears, including crushes, boyfriends and all that other stuff. Which was also the reason, why the blonde was so concerned for her best friends who just happened to have a small crush on David Dobrik himself. It was nothing serious, Y/N had literally told her that she thought he was cute but she wouldn't want anything to jeopardize the amazing friendship they had. So it had soon been swapped under the carpet. But noticing as her best friend had watched the boy across the club the entire evening, corinna couldn't help but ask.
‘’I… I don't know what to feel right now, Corinna, I’m tipsy and tired and honestly just scared to do something stupid, so…. Just leave it please.’’
Y/N watched Matt talking to their friends pointing towards the exit and laughing along with the rest of them. Shortly after, David came dancing out of the crowd mimicking a rope, he pulled himself closer to the girls at the bar. He didn't stop dancing while he started talking: ‘’Why do you alrrrrready wanna leaveeeee Y/N/N?’’
He dragged a couple letters in his sentence and the girls could tell, he wasn't as sober anymore. Y/N chuckled, watching the dark haired boy bust some pretty bad moves in front of them.
‘’Because I’m tired and want to go home. It’s late anyway.’’ She tapped her wrist to emphasize her words and made her way towards the exit after seeing that the rest of the group had gotten off the dancefloor as well.
They were all walking on the sidewalk cracking their usual jokes and just enjoying their time together while debating whether they should grab something to eat before getting an uber home or just going there right away.
After a couple minutes of walking, Zane started jumping at the walls and street lights, pretending he was spiderman and annoying pretty much every member of the group. They had decided to drop by IN-N-OUT and to get there by foot, they had at least 20 more minutes to go. Y/N was just concerned that he was accidentally going to jump on the street and most certainly die. Zane creamed louder, making weird noises and trying to climb a stop sign the group had just came across. The dark haired guy fell a couple of times stumbling towards the next obstacle he could climb. He had jumped on top of a small wall next to a fountain when he screamed again.
‘’David, David come here I’m Spiderman! You're gonna be saved from me!! Here come here I wanna jump across the fountain with you!’’
David smirked drunkenly and made his way to the fountain high fiving Zane, who explained the plan to him.
‘’This is not going to end well.’’ Matt shook his head.
Y/N had to admit this was probably not the stupidest idea Zane had ever had, but knowing that David was not capable of making smart decisions himself anymore, she had concern written all over her face. Normally David was the one holding his friends back from making dangerous moves while intoxicated. Somebody else had to fulfill that role tonight. But neither was anybody sober enough nor attempting to stop those two idiots from killing themselves. Y/N couldn't do anything but watch as Zane jumped off the wall with David on his back. For a moment it looked like they could actually make it over the water but soon after that thought entered Y/N’s head, Zane slipped on the edge of the fountain. The boys fell backwards into the water, followed by a loud scream and water splashing everywhere.
‘’Shit!’’ One of the friends screamed. Y/N heard a couple ‘OMGs’ thrown her way but her surroundings were a blur the second she saw Zane burying David under his body and pushing not only him but also his head towards the cement floor of the fountain. She rushed towards her friends. Zane hat gotten up already laughing at his stunt. The rest of the group laughed as well. None of them noticed that David had yet to get up and laugh with them, but nothing happened. Y/N jumped into the water attempting to get her friend out the water but failing miserably. Matt came running to her and helped get David up and out of the fountain.
‘’Come on Dave…’’, she muttered to herself as they had finally gotten his head out of the water. Her friends were still busy hyping up Zane who stood there in full glory enjoying the applause of his friends who just complimented the guy on his stupidity.
David did not move. He was out cold. The fall must have knocked his head on the floor pretty hard, making him unconscious. Y/N couldn't believe her friends. How could they be so distracted and not see the seriousness of this situation? Anger rushed through her body as she shook davids shoulders in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness.
‘’Wake up! Please, please wake up!’’ She pulled on his shirt slapping and punching against Matt’s chest while he pulled her away from David to calm her down. That caught the attention of the others. They stopped dead in their tracks as they saw David’s unconscious body laying on the floor.
‘’Call 911 this isn't funny!’’ Y/N screamed desperately after calming down a little bit. But looking in all of her friends shocked faces made the adrenaline come rushing back through her veins again. Toddy was the first one to react, kneeling down next to his friend and looking for injuries.
‘’What are you all standing there? Do something!’’ Y/N was furious.
‘’Well we can’t…’’ Mariah trailed off, ‘’ This was a no phones event, remember?’’ The girl guiltily trained her eyes on the floor inspecting her shoes closely.
The group looked at each other. ‘’One of you dipshits must have brought their phone anyway!’’, somebody shouted, but Y/N dazed off into her panic again.
This situation couldn't have been worse. Her friend and crush was currently dying on the sidewalk and none of them were able to do anything about it.
15 minutes passed but to Y/N it felt like hours. All of this would’ve never happened if she had not suggested this stupid no phones policy. Sure, the evening had been fun for the most part BECAUSE of the lack of phones or cameras, but that didn't change the situation the group found themselves in right now. Corinna was sitting by Y/N’s side and comforted her best friend who had started crying five minutes in. She was a mess. Her hair was wet and the fear was visible in her glossy eyes. The Best friends sat there for a while hugging each other and glancing back to David every second to check if something had changed. Nothing. The desperation in everyone was balling up, making them unable to move or even say anything.
Y/N twitched, noticing a faint siren in the distance. Soon after, an ambulance came rushing down the street and stopping right by them. Everything happened extremely fast and within one minute Y/N found herself at the door of the ambulance explaining to the paramedic what had happened and why she should be able to ride with David to the hospital.
‘’Sorry, Dear. Only family members get to ride in the ambulance.’’, The gray bearded man explained to her. This was bullshit. After all she was the one who saved his ass. She tried a couple more arguments but the man wouldn't let her in.
‘’She's his girlfriend… does that count?’’ Matt came up behind her smiling at the man lightly. The paramedic raised an eyebrow and studied Y/N’s face again, looking for any sign of lying but didn't seem to find any.
‘’Alight, get in.’’ He made his way into the ambulance and motioned for her to climb in.
Y/N whispered a swift ‘thank you’ towards Matt before stepping into the Ambulance and driving off towards the hospital.
04:01 am. The clock seemed to move slower than ever and every second Y/N was seated in the waiting area, felt like an hour passing by. Her eyes were focused on the green door, David had been pushed through about 30 minutes ago. She didn't know where her friends were and she didn't know how David was doing. And the worst part, she didn’t know how long this was going to take. The adrenaline was wearing off slowly and Y/N felt herself drifting in and out of sleep every now and then. She rubbed her eyes and got a cup of coffee to keep herself from falling asleep. That was when the doors opened again and a woman in a white coat headed towards her.
‘’David Dobrik?’’, she asked nodding towards Y/N.
‘’Yes.’’
‘’Please come with me.’’ She motioned for her to follow her into the hallway David had been pushed in before and stopped in front of room number 406.
‘’Mr. Dobrik is conscious now. He has a bad concussion which is also the reason why we will have to keep him here for a couple more days. You can see him now.’’ The doctor shot her a smile before rushing through the hallway again.
Y/N’s palms were sweaty as she pushed down the door handle and moved towards the hospital bed on the left side of the room. As soon as she saw him, she broke down crying. The girl walked over to her friend falling on top of him and hugging him tightly.
‘’I thought you were dead.’’, she whispered in his ear and took in his scent, which was now mixed with alcohol and sweat.
‘’Don't ever do that again. You had me worried sick! Those were the worst minutes of my life, do you understand? Don't you ever almost die on me again.’’
‘’Hey it's alright, I’m alright.’’ he smiled warmly, stroking Y/N’s back and pulling her into a hug once again.
‘’I was worried sick.’’, she repeated.
Her eyes started to water and soon, hot tears were streaming down here face. She had never noticed how deeply she really cared for David. The thought of him not being around her anymore was tearing her heart apart to the point where her chest was hurting badly. She looked down athim, taking in his eyes, his messy hair, and his lips. His lips that were basically begging her to kiss him right now. She scolded herself for the thought that came rushing through her head, but then again, it was nice to imagine being even closer to him than now. Y/N just now realised how close their faces were from each other. A half, maybe one inch parted their faces from each other and made it even harder for her to resist the urge to press her lips against his.
‘’Can… Can I kiss you?’’ Y/N was hesitant. Looking into his eyes curiously she prayed to God, that David wouldn’t burst the bubble of love and concern she was in.
But he inched closer, stopping so close to her lips that she could basically taste them.
‘’You can.’’ David smiled and closed his eyes. He pushed her head towards his gently until their lips finally met.
#david dobrik#david dobrik imagine#david dobrik x reader#david dobrik fanfiction#david dobrik fic#david dobrik concept#vlog squad#vlog squad imagine#vlog squad x reader#vlog squad fanfic#corinna kopf#matt king#mywritings
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What’s this Pizzagate in the heart of nature?
The big tech story in Australia last month was Facebook’s decision to restrict people and organisations in Australia from sharing or viewing news content on Facebook. This was in response to the Morrison government’s proposed Media Bargaining legislation which is basically a Murdoch-serving law to try to get tech companies to pay media organisations for news content hosted/linked/displayed on their sites and, most galling of all, share details of their algorithms with Australian media orgs. The idea that Facebook would have to notify NewsCorp every time they want to tweak their algorithm is patently insane. So I admire Facebook’s petty, dramatic manoeuvre: “if the way we share news on the site is such a problem then fine, no more news for you”. After all the fuss, the Australian government agreed to amend the Media Bargaining legislation - evidently with terms more agreeable to Facebook, meaning news has been restored to Facebook down under.
One of the key responses I saw expressed in relation to Facebook’s initial news eradication was concern that disinformation would be able to spread more easily on the site - and that people wouldn’t be able to rebut disinformation with factual news articles.
So far as I can tell, the proliferation of disinformation online wouldn’t matter if people didn’t believe it. And most especially, if people didn’t want to believe it. After all, the web is full of persuasive writing and people who want to convince you of things - for whatever reason, conspiracy theories just seem to be very alluring. So rather than trying to protect people from their own stupidity by hiding disinformation... maybe we could look at why people are so credulous in the first place. Deep state? Jet fuel can’t melt steel beams? CIA Contra cocaine trafficking? The great replacement? Pizzagate?
I’m going to class conspiracy theorists into three categories of my own making:
I believe: well meaning, uninformed people who have been fooled or duped. The fraudulent 1998 Lancet paper by Andrew Wakefield which started the vaccines cause autism conspiracy was actually written to support a class action lawsuit. Wakefield knew the results in his paper were not true: in addition to his conflicts of interest, he had falsified data. The paper was eventually debunked and retracted but the conspiracy had its roots and has continued to grow. I think a lot of the people who believe that vaccines are dangerous are parents who are just worried about their kids - and also want to protect other kids from a threat they believe to be real. Why is one debunked article more persuasive to people than a million proving the efficacy of vaccines? It is literally beyond reason.
It suits me to believe: people motivated by self-interest who adopt a conspiracy theory to support their larger world view. Their self-interest could be anything from their own ego to gun rights. The conspiracies around the Sandy Hook Primary School shooting are interesting because you can see a clear motivation for people to subscribe to that theory rather than the truth. If you’re a keen gun-owner, arguining that the shooting was a hoax to generate anti-gun sentiment and thereby allow the Democrats to pass harsher gun restrictions is neat and comforting. No one could argue that the events of Sandy Hook weren’t inhumanly terrible - so the only option is to argue that they didn’t happen at all. Plus, in this worldview, no kids are getting hurt so you can sleep easy knowing you have seven semi-automatic weapons in the house.
I need to believe: the world is disorganised, scary, unknowable. Ocean deep, sky vast, dark impenetrable - and meanwhile our skin is so thin and delicate. So. Wouldn’t it be comforting to think that there’s a race of reptilian overlords that control the planet by whipping their tails against a complicated system of levers and pullies? That would explain a lot of the chaos in our world. Or maybe the problem is an elite coterie of Satan-worshipping cannibalistic pedophiles? If only we could defeat those accursed pedophiles then life would be peaceful. Luckily, Q and a septuagenarian reality TV host are here to save us.
Across these categories, there are two unifying features:
Rejection of widely accepted truth
Investment in the conspiracy
As a comparison with the conspiracists above, here’s my take on a conspiracy: I think it’s quite probable that Epstein didn’t kill himself. I think that some powerful, shadowy entity took him out to protect itself. But I’m not obsessed by this idea. It would not surprise or upset me if this was officially confirmed - similarly crazy shit happens all the time. I haven’t devoted my life to revealing this truth. I guess I fit into the “I Believe” category: all official information says that Epstein took his own life but my scepticism of the unusual circumstances around his death and Epstein’s powerful connections leads me to doubt the official information. The difference is I don’t do anything about it. I don’t really care if I’m right or not - I’m not that invested in the conspiracy.
And that’s why it seems ludicrous to me that Facebook should be tasked with combatting the conspiracy theories spiralling across our culture. Simply being exposed to bad information does not radicalise you, does not conjure an investment in the conspiracy. If a normal person reads something creatively wrong or misleading they discard it from their mind. If it hits a chord with them, they may adopt that opinion themselves - see: astrology, Armie Hammer as cannibal, tarot cards, essential oils as serious medical treatment, etc. But the evolution from agreeing with a thought to militaristically insisting that the rest of society also agree with it is an abnormal progression. That strange impulse runs deeper in people than their Facebook timeline.
Most people have fears for the planet or believe there are major issues plaguing humanity - and we never do anything about it because it would be mildly inconvenient or because it’s too hard to care about every issue under late capitalism:
"But sorting my recycling is boring”
“Yeah yeah fast fashion is problematic but H&M is just so affordable"
"Of course I hate R.Kelly! But ‘Ignition (Remix)’ is my jam”
“At least they have suicide nets in the Foxconn factories now”
“I only buy free range chicken thighs because I care about animal welfare”
“I retweeted that thing about anti-Black racism. Yay racism solved!”
There are probably lots of people who believe in conspiracy theories but are ultimately apathetic about doing anything: they can’t be bothered talking about vaccines and politics all the time, can’t be bothered going to a protest, can’t summon the interest to care much. So what’s interesting then is that across the three categories of conspiracy theory belief (I believe > It suits me to believe > I need to believe), what a person believes in, and perhaps even the reason for the belief, doesn’t create any impetus to enact real world change. On both the left and the right, the impulse to do something about an issue is rare. Do you think conspiracy theorists, like the left, have a problem with performative activism?
Imagine that you agree that Sandy Hook was a false flag, that ‘they’ hired crisis actors to publicly grieve as if their pretend children had been murdered... do you then get in your car and drive overnight to Sandy Hook and start harassing those crisis actors at the pretend funerals? What do you call someone like that? The hero of their own story.
Just wait!
In their worldview, QAnon are unironically trying to save us from pedophile cannibals. Given what conspiracists believe to be true, they are acting in good faith and doing the right thing. If you believed this shit, you’d be upset too. The fact that they’re doing something about it is kind of admirable: they don’t want our babies to get autism from the measles vaccine, they don’t want a deep state to manipulate our democratic governments. It’s existential for all of us - we just don’t agree on the threat.
youtube
Can you imagine how electric the riot at the Capitol Building must have felt for the people who led it. Brave, romantic, a grand gesture: it was like their Storming of Tuileries. Remember this day forever!
Modern conspiracists are actually similar to the sans-culottes in terms of being avid consumers of propaganda and inflammatory reporting. Disinformation and stirring rhetoric are not new - but shouldn’t people today be less clueless than 18th century peasants?
youtube
Why are there are so many people who believe things which are untrue? They exist on this planet with us but interpret it so differently. These questions really are existential: an ancient, echoing maw pointing to the heart of human nature. The struggle for a more perfect world, whispers about where the danger comes from at night, arguments about how to protect ourselves.
youtube
Has there ever been a society where people didn’t have differing views on how best to shape the world? It’s the central conflict of human existence: epic, older than language - and now we want Facebook to fix it?
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Trust me darling, trust me.
Hewwo! I’m glad to announce/post this collab with the lovely @softlimefluff ♥ —an absolute honor to work with her, always ;w; please go and support her, she’s amazing and really talented!
CW: pregnancy.
“Helena?” Giorno’s voice resounded through the house as the Don, still dressed in pajamas and hair barely pulled up into a small man bun, stepped into the kitchen. His eyebrows furrowed as he stood in the doorway, shaking slightly, trying to control himself. Fear and anxiety weighing on his chest, discomfort evident in his posture.
From the oven, his wife could feel his change of demeanor instantly.
When she turned her head with a worried glance, Giorno couldn’t help but think, “Of course she’ll notice… She always does.”
The Donna turned again, turning off the appliance and resting a hand on her baby bump. Then, turning to lean against the counter at her back, she took a deep breath, huffing as she felt the babies shift and lean against her insides —she could swear they were messing with her bladder again.
“What are you doing?”
Giorno finally spoke after eyeing Helena up and down, frown relaxed slightly in an attempt to seem less anxious. The way his eyes darkened, however, even as sunlight pooled in through the window and lit up his golden gaze, made it clear that something was up.
“Cooking.” She answered, keeping calm, even if she could sense Giorno’s emotions from where she stood.
Giorno’s chest rumbled with a hum he managed to swallow; an automatic sound, escaping his controlled demeanor--evidence of how worried he actually was.
“You shouldn’t do that, Helena.”
Crossing her arms and tilting her head, jaw tense, she quickly replied. “Cooking? Don’t you think you’re exaggerating? It’s not like I’m lifting —I don’t know, heavy things?”
Mirroring her posture, Giorno crossed his arms too, leaning against the door and replying between gritted teeth.
“You’re pregnant. You could get hurt. You or the twins. I don’t think you understand…”
“Alright.” She lifted her hand in a stop motion. “You just crossed a line, Giogio. You’re telling me to sit down and not to move at all?? You know that’s not healthy, right?”
Giorno opened his mouth defensively, but was quickly stopped by his wife.
“Don’t reply yet! You are clearly being overprotective. I can’t sit all day and keep making everyone bring me food and water. Or having someone help me get to our room. I can’t sit and just watch movies or scroll through social media —you know what our doctor said.”
“He said that pregnancy is much more dangerous with twins! I’m just trying to look out for you! I don’t want you to get hurt!”
“But this is far too much, Don. Telling me I shouldn’t cook? I can still stand. I can still do things. I’m not a fragile flower or a piece of glass that will shatter at a touch…”
Helena sighed, softening and walking towards her husband, reaching out her hand to his jaw and rubbing the stubble there, hoping to ease the tension between them.
“See me as more than just a pregnant woman, Giorno. I am your wife. Your Donna. Your partner and companion. I know when I’m tired and when I need to rest. Let me listen to my body.”
“So what am I supposed to do then? Sit here and watch you tire yourself out while I do nothing?”
“I won’t tire myself! I know how to do things still, Mr. Giovanna!”
“Why won’t you let me help you though?”
“Because it’s not helping! It’s smothering!”
“Oh, so now I’m “controlling” and “smothering”? Mi scuzi, bella,” he bowed slightly, bending low with a flourish, “I’ll excuse myself, then, and be on my way so I don’t suffocate you.”
Without another word, Giorno walked down the hall and to the stairs, his wife calling after him, her hands balled into small fists.
“You know that’s not what I meant! GioGio! Come back and talk to me!”
Giorno’s footsteps fell heavily against the main staircase, making his point clear as he walked up to the library and slammed the doors. While sunlight lit up the room, making specks of dust dance in the glimmering light, Gio could not see past his own anger into the beauty.
Why was he the one at fault? He was only trying to help.
The pool or workout room would have served far better for getting his anger out than a room full of books, but his pride wouldn’t yet let him return downstairs.
As his gaze fell over the shelves, still fuming over the conflict with Lena, he spotted their collection of Pink Dark Boy, the newest volume still laying on the reading desk, waiting to be read.
“Han… Maybe he could help.”
Easing himself heavily into the oversized leather armchair, Giorno pulled out his phone, finding Rohan’s number within and checking the time. 9:43 AM. should be around 4:43pm for Rohan then…
Hesitating only a moment, he let out a sigh, relaxing his shoulders, and tapping the screen to call his friend.
One ring. Two. Three. Maybe this was a bad--
“Mmmhhello??”
He sounds sleepy,,, probably napping with Ari~
“Rohan? It’s. Gio.” Quiet for a moment, he looked for the words, wondering where to start and how to approach what happened…
“Something wrong? You usually text.” Gio could hear Han sitting up in bed, the sound of cloth shifting underneath him as he stretched out.
“Erm… Han. I think… I made Helena mad.”
Sighing, Rohan looked over at Ari sleeping.
“Give me a minute, Gio.”
Pressing a kiss to Ari’s cheek, he whispered, “I’ll be right back, darling” then stood and walked upstairs his office, Gio quiet on the other end of the phone. Sitting back into his desk chair, only in boxers and messy hair, Rohan finally settled, ready to talk.
“What happened, Giorno? Why do you think she’s mad?”
“I was trying to help, Han, I swear!”
“I believe you, Giogio, but I need the whole story. Now, talk!”
With another sigh, Gio let the whole situation spill out, not leaving out either side. He knew Han was good at analyzing situations from every angle and wanted to present it properly.
“What do you think I should do? I want to make sure she’s safe, especially when it’s twins! She shouldn’t strain herself…”
Taking a moment to lean back, Rohan put his feet up on the desk.
“That’s reasonable, surely, but imagine it from her perspective as well. Put yourself in the position of a co-boss, trying to prove herself at every turn. Maintain her power and position while pregnant with the boss’ kid.”
“Her position has never been questioned, Rohan! I wouldn’t let anyone do that to her--there’s nothing to prove.”
“Why don’t you ask her how she sees it, then, if you think it’s been that easy?”
Gio grew silent at that, thinking over Han’s words. His friend continued, pulling his feet down and resting his arms on his legs as he finished.
“Of course she wants care, but she doesn’t want to be treated like she’s incapable of doing even small things. She loves cooking, Giogio. Let her cook! But do the extra things. Do the dishes. Take a shower with her and help with the places she can’t reach. Think about what she can or can’t do and help where she actually needs.”
Chuckling, Gio smirked into the phone.
“Since when did you get so nice, Mr. Kishibe??~”
A flush of red rushed to Han’s cheeks and he crossed his arms, making an offended noise into the phone.
“I always knew how to treat people! They just have to earn my respect, Mr. Giovanna.”
“Alright, fair, fair…” Gio grinned, taking one more moment with Han. “Suppose this means I have to apologize…”
“Suppose so... But you couldn’t stay away from Lena if you tried~”
“Why do you always have to be right, Rohan?” A laugh finally escaped from his lips, the light coming back into his eyes. “I’ll go to her now. Make things right.”
“Mmmh. Good. Is that all?”
“Yes. Thank you, Han.”
“Very well. Text me if you need.”
“Mhhm. Bye.”
Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he let out a sigh, allowing himself a moment of silence.
Standing slowly and pulling down his sleep shirt, Giorno took a deep breath, letting the anger concentrate and then, as he exhaled, felt his mind get clearer—finally able to see through his own worries.
He wasn’t quite sure what happened; he’d always been the kind of person to see situations through others' perspective, to think like them. This might have been the first time in years that something like this happened. Deep down, he felt a pool of anxiety and shame on the edge of spilling over.
It’s not time to think about myself. But I do need to work on that...
Opening the door to the library and stepping into the hall, the first thing to hit him was the smell of arroz con leche. The scent brought back memories and as Gio leaned against the upstairs railing, he couldn't help but feel worse, thinking about Rohan’s point that Lena loves cooking. How true he was...
Lena loves being free, loves being independent. She doesn’t want someone making her feel like everything she does is wrong or bad. Plus, with the boys almost there, she needs the confidence to be able to keep up with her activities; to not be put down by others for her gender or role as a mother and wife: to prove that she’s more than that...
God, does he want to apologize right now.
Descending the stairs in silence, thinking about his words carefully, he’s frozen in his spot as he sees her sitting on the couch, head turned to the window and shoulders shaking. She’s silent, however, even though her shoulders are shaking the way they do when she cries.
His heart breaks instantly.
“Tesoro?” he asks calmly, voice firm but worried.
She shakes her head and his voice seems to break her more; she sobs audibly, shaking her head once more and losing her false composure, starting to tremble and cry without holding back.
Walking up and kneeling before her, Giorno’s hands would be shaking if it wasn’t for the way he’s controlling his emotions, carefully placing his warm hands on her thighs, trying to bring her back, to help her calm down.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers, and then repeats louder enough for it to sound like a genuine apology and not something mumbled through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry —I was wrong.”
Her hands grip his forearms and she finally faces him, trying to bring him closer with shaking hands and red eyes —face red, too, and lips trembling. Standing quickly, he sits at her side, offering her a space to lean and cry and let her let it all out. It shouldn’t be like that, but he knows she’s been saving it for long enough and keeping it bottled up won’t help.
Raking his fingers gently over her scalp, he coos softly under his breath, feeling her smaller hands holding onto him. Then, she blurts out. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry I’m too stubborn. I… I’m tired of bossing you around and just sitting. I don’t want you to get tired of me and leave me.”
Swallowing hard without a second thought or intention, Giorno’s chest tightens with a mix of emotions he can’t quite tell the source of--for the way it presses down onto his lungs, though, he knows anxiety is at its root.
Slipping a few fingers under her jaw and making her look at him, Giorno’s eyes soften and his heart aches with the sight of her —so broken and scared. To think his actions ended up causing all this makes him want to be a better man. To listen more instead of assuming.
Pressing a kiss against the heated skin of her forehead, his free hand shoots upwards, circling her shoulders on the way. Wiping her tears and letting his lips linger there for a second, he closes his eyes and feels a wave of relief wash over him when she sighs and relaxes.
Pulling away without letting her go, Giorno mutters. “I won’t leave you, doll. But please understand me, I have never met someone so kind, beautiful… And adorable like you, Helena. Losing you —losing our sons… It would kill me. I want to help as much as I can, let you rest all the time, not put you at risk —but I admit I was wrong, I should let you move and do your thing… I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. I can’t promise I’ll stop right now, because I’m still worried, but we’ll try everything to make things work out.”
Shaking slightly with a small sob escaping, Lena tilts her head to look at him and gives him a smile —one that doesn’t reach her eyes, doesn’t carry the brightness it usually does, but it makes him know she agrees.
“It’s okay. I should have let you know earlier without bottling it up. It’s not your fault.”
Humming under his breath as he glances around the room, his eyes stop at the painting close to the window. “You know it is.”
Shaking her head again, Lena hums as she tires to make her voice come back to normal. “It’s not. We both were responsible.”
Silence fills the room until she speaks again. “We’ll make it, Giogio. We just have to keep going together… You mean so much to me, too. I never thought I'd met someone like you. And yet here we are...”
Humming, the sound Giorno makes rumbles through his chest; gentle as he tilts his head down, peppering her face with kisses, feeling how warm her skin was. “True.” he muttered after a while, listening intently to the dreamy sigh she let out. “You know I love you, right?”
She hummed, closing her eyes and smiling, leaning against his shoulder.
“I know —I love you too. But right now, I could really use some snacks.”
“C’mon, we’ll get them together.”
Standing slowly, Giorno offered his hand out to Lena, keeping her close as they made another start to the day. This time, with more understanding, promising to work through things together. Always together.
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