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blueskrugs · 5 years ago

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Four Times Fate Brought You to Vince Dunn, and One Time You Found Him on Purpose

I wrote this simultaneously with another Vince 4+1 (coming tomorrow, hopefully!) and yelled to @captainpetty and Erin about them constantly. Sorry guys.

length: 3k words

An Accident You met Vince Dunn for the first time in an emergency room in St. Louis. Normally you worked the pediatric floor, and not on the night shift, but sometimes you floated to the general emergency room for an extra shift because, well, money is money.

You liked pediatrics because dealing with kids was far easier than adults, in your opinion, even when parents could sometimes be just as difficult as a screaming toddler. But at least screaming toddlers could be calmed down with the promise of a sticker or a lollipop.

“Hey, can you pick up the new guy that just came in?” one of the other nurses asked as she breezed past you to handle one of her patients. “I think they said something about him being important around here.”

“Being important” meant that, when you pulled the curtain back to face your newest patient, you came face-to-face with a very drunk Vince Dunn and a significantly less drunk Colton Parayko. You simply raised an eyebrow and moved over to the computer to start charting.

“I’m not really sure I want to know what happened here, but I think I have to ask,” you said, trying to ignore the fact that you were pretty sure Vince was whispering to Colton about you.

“Is there any way, like, our training staff-”

“And Petro!”

“God, yeah, and Petro, won’t find out about this? Because I wasn’t supposed to let anything happen to him, and we have a game tomorrow,” Colton finished.

That really didn’t answer your question, and you weren’t sure how anything that brought the two of them into an ER after midnight was going to be easily hidden for a game the next night. You turned then, properly looked at the boys, took in Vince sitting on the bed with his feet swinging above the ground like a child. His shirt was a little wet with what was probably beer, and, when you looked closer, blood. His left hand was wrapped in a bar rag–that you really hoped had been clean when they got it–that was definitely blood-stained.

Colton explained to you, as you started an IV in Vince’s right arm and cleaned the gash in his palm that would definitely need stitches, that they had gone out in spite of their captain telling them it was a bad idea. Vince had had one beer too many and had ended up on a table, then fell off the table, catching his fall on someone’s pint of beer. By the way Vince winced when you moved his hand around to clean it, you were pretty sure his wrist sprained, too.

You hovered a bit as one of the ER doctors came in and checked out Vince’s hand and wrist. Vince was quiet, but you could feel him watching you as you fidgeted around the small room. By the time everything was ready for him to be sent home, he was definitely more sober himself, but that also meant he was lucid enough to be embarrassed about how he ended up in the ER. You watched as Colton led him out of the ER and to a waiting Uber, and you wondered just how the hell they were planning on hiding his hand from everyone the next day.

At a Bar The second time you met Vince Dunn was, somewhat ironically, in a bar. You had seen him as soon as you walked in, laughing with some of his teammates in the corner, but you diligently ignored him as you headed to the bar with your friend to get a drink. Why would he remember some random ER nurse from over a month ago, when he had been drunk? You shook your head, determined to ignore the loud hockey boys in the corner and have a good night yourself.

You had been at the bar almost an hour and had done a pretty good job of ignoring and avoiding the hockey players in the corner. You headed over to the bar for a second drink, when you felt a hand press against your lower back. You tensed, twisting around as much as you could in the crowded bar to see who was behind you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Vince said, but he didn’t move his hand. He raised his left hand to get the attention of the bartender, and you saw the flash of a still-healing scar on his palm, pink even in the dim light of the bar. “You were that nurse from the ER, yeah? I never thanked you for taking care of my drunk ass that night.” He smiled, then, wide and genuine, hand still warm against the small of your back, and you relaxed a little bit.

You were surprised that he recognized you. You’d heard stories of the younger players on the Blues wheeling multiple girls at once; you vaguely wondered how they kept track of them, much less a nobody nurse he’d met once.

You didn’t say that, though, just smiled back at him as the bartender slid two beers in front of you. You reached into your pocket to pay but Vince grabbed your wrist.

“Nah, this one’s on me. Said I had to thank you, didn’t I?” he told you. You tried not to think about how green his eyes were up close.

You shook yourself again; you didn’t need this. You didn’t need this. Besides, how many more times could you run into Vince Dunn?

In Enemy Territory It was in Pittsburgh, of all places, when you saw Vince Dunn again. One of your brothers had moved out there for work, and you were visiting him for a week, helping out with babysitting his kids, hanging with your sister-in-law. You hadn’t even thought to check the Blues’ schedule; you had no idea they were on a road trip to play the Penguins.

You were standing in line at a Starbucks, your two-year-old nephew balanced on your hip, your sister-in-law still outside with the other kids. You heard the door open behind you, and a loud group came in, but now you were focused on ordering before the toddler you were carrying decided he got bored and threw a tantrum. You were struggling to reach your card one handed when someone else reached past you.

“Add it to ours,” the voice belonging to the arm said. You spun, only to see Colton Parayko looking down at you with a smile. You looked over his shoulder to see several of his teammates shoving each other playfully in line. That would explain the loud group you’d heard come in. Colton was introducing himself to the two year old you were carrying, but you were still watching his teammates. Vince caught your eye from where he was trying to put Jordan Kyrou in a headlock and grinned, immediately letting go of Rouzy. You smiled back, a little caught off guard.

You stepped to the side as you waited. Before long, you were joined by Vince, both of you trying to ignore the catcalls from his other teammates.

“And who’s this little guy?” Vince cooed, actually ignoring you aside from a quick smile. You raised an eyebrow a little bit at his baby-voice.

Your nephew tucked his face into your neck, suddenly shy. “Oh, come on now,” you said to him. “This is Jake, he’s my brother’s youngest,” you explained to Vince. Vince continued to talk to your nephew in that same high, gentle voice, until he was giggling and chattering right back. The barista called your name, and Jake picked that moment to decide he was done being patient and started fussing, very close to crying and screaming. You couldn’t balance two drinks and two sandwiches as well as a fidgeting toddler, and you groaned.

“Here give him to me,” Vince said, reaching out to take him before you could protest. Jake settled immediately, and you glared at him a little. You could hear Vince talking to him more as you scrambled to pick up all of your order. He followed you outside, and you ignored the interested stares of the rest of the guys.

He continued to hold Jake as you handed off your sister-in-law’s half of the order, stood there to chat with her and the other kids, long after Sammy came out with Vince’s drink. He used the same voice he had used to befriend Jake on the other two kids, but he talked and laughed with you and Sarah in the next breath, even teasing her for the Pens shirt she was wearing.

You were doing your best not to think about how that voice was making you melt every time he used it. His teammates eventually dragged him away to get back to the hotel before the game, but not before Vince talked you into exchanging phone numbers.

You tried telling yourself that you were never going to use it.

In a Grocery Store You were pretty sure the universe was laughing at you at this point. Your mom had invited herself over for dinner, and you had nothing in your apartment to cook. Which meant you rushed to a grocery store on your lunch break, and you ended up at a different one than you usually went to because it was closer to work.

Why couldn’t all grocery stores be laid out the same? You were trying very hard to make it look like you weren’t turning in circles as you tried to find everything you were looking for when your phone buzzed. You pulled it out with a huff, fully expecting it to your mom again, but instead the name on your screen read, “Vince Dunn.”

You paused. It had been nearly another month since Pittsburgh, and neither one of you had texted the other one. You were (mostly) perfectly content with leaving it that way, but clearly Vince had other ideas. The screen had gone dark, but it lit up again, reminding you it was there. You read the text, the simple words “you look a little lost.” With that you spun around, and, sure enough, Vince was standing a couple feet behind you, leaning against a shelf with a smirk on his face.

“I don’t have time for this,” you said, turning back around and starting to push your cart in a direction that hopefully ended in pasta.

“Hey, wait,” Vince said, taking a couple annoyingly long steps to catch up to you and put a hand on your cart to stop you. “Lemme help. It’ll be faster. I’ve been watching you walk in circles for like ten minutes.” You blushed as he smirked again, but his eyes were soft.

You wanted so badly to just push past Vince, forget you had ever met him, and then met him again and again, delete his number from your phone, but you also knew he was right; he would probably get you out of this damned grocery store a lot faster than you could probably manage on your own, and maybe you really wanted to spend a little time with him, too.

So you sighed, handed Vince the list you had scribbled on the back of a gas receipt, and let him lead you around the grocery store. He let you rant about your mom, and then about work, only pausing to offer opinions on the food he was putting in your cart. After a while, you realized you had actually managed to get everything on your list, but now Vince was wandering aimlessly around the store, sneaking junk food into your cart. You raised an eyebrow as you watched him slip a package of cookie mix behind the box of pasta. He looked up at you as you leaned on the cart handle, sheepish now that he’d been caught.

“What?I like snickerdoodles,” he said in defense.

You shook your head and pulled the package out of the cart. “I can make better snickerdoodles from scratch, dude.” You looked closer at everything in your cart. “And I don’t like jalapeno Cheetos,” you said, throwing the bag at Vince.

“Is that a promise on the snickerdoodles?” Of course he focused on that.

“I don’t know, maybe. Now go put the damn Cheetos back.”

Vince laughed. You willed yourself to focus on getting out of the store and home to cook dinner, not just kissing Vince in the middle of the baking aisle.

“Don’t knock ‘em until you try ‘em. Thommer’s gotten the whole team addicted at this point,” Vince told you over his shoulder as he went to put the Cheetos back from wherever he found them. You turned around and headed back in what you thought was the direction of checkout. Vince found you again as you stood in line. You had honestly thought the whole Cheetos thing would be the end of this interaction with him, but apparently not.

“Don’t you have your own grocery shopping to do?” you asked, realizing just how much time Vince had spent with you in the store. “Instead of helping some random girl?” you added, allowing the insecurity you were suddenly feeling slip into your voice.

Vince started putting your groceries on the conveyor belt. “Nah, Sammy just wanted some snacks, and he can wait.”

You let Vince load the rest of your stuff onto the belt, you didn’t let him pay–though he fought you on that one for several minutes–and you let him walk with you to your car and put all of your groceries in the trunk.

You were halfway home before you thought to wonder if he actually went back and got snacks for Sammy.

At a Hockey Game When your best friend texted you and asked if you wanted to go to a Blues game with her, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. You had grown up a hockey fan, had found Hannah in high school, and there you two were, years later, still yelling about the Blues over texts and phone calls and in person. Your eagerness had absolutely nothing to do with Vince Dunn.

You also didn’t hesitate to snap a picture of your ticket and send it to Vince after Hannah handed it to you. You didn’t really think he’d see it so close to puck drop, but you still regretted it as soon as the tiny little “sent” appeared underneath the picture.

The game was exciting, and the Blues won, which helped distract you from the anxiety you were feeling over Vince. Mostly. Until he scored a goal, and his eyes swept the sea of blue in Enterprise Center, and, for a split second, you let yourself think he was looking for you.

Until after the game, when you and Hannah were getting up to leave, and an usher appeared next to you, saying your name and telling you to follow her. Getting down below the arena was a blur of people and security, being given neon wristbands and convincing people that, “Yes, I was invited down here by a player, I belong down here,” even if you didn’t really believe that second part was true.

You both hovered awkwardly in the doorway to the room where all of the WAGs and kids were waiting, and suddenly you regretted wearing your Parayko jersey just a little bit. You were thankful to have your friend next to you, though, and you explained the whole grocery store thing to her while you waited. You were starting to debate leaving, telling everyone that, yeah, actually, letting you down into the tunnels was a mistake, that you have no business being there, when you��re wrapped up in a hug suddenly, and there’s Vince, freshly-showered and back in his suit– and this is new, but it’s nice and you let yourself relax into the hug.

Vince pulled back, and he was smiling at you and introducing himself to Hannah, and Colton was standing behind him with a matching smile. You remembered the 55 sprawled across your back, and you knew Colton saw it, but then he was wrapping his arm around your shoulder and didn’t say anything about it.

You weren’t so lucky with Vince. “I’ve gotta get you a new jersey,” he said. You just rolled your eyes and shrugged.

“I’ll sign that one for you,” Colton whispered.

Vince and Colton started arguing over that, and you were starting to think that this is something you could get used to, since this was apparently your new normal, when Alex Pietrangelo comes over to your little group, and you were reminded a little just how not normal this was for you.

“Is this the nurse Dunner won’t shut up about?” Petro asked Colton, who nodded over your head. “You really freaked him out when you texted him before the game,” Petro was talking again, this time to you. “We thought he was gonna go out into the stands to find you himself.”

You laughed, more at the bright blush that was spreading over Vince’s cheeks. “What happened to ‘Petro can’t find out about this?’” you asked.

“That went out the window pretty fast,” Colton told you.

“And I don’t know how you ever thought you could hide eight stitches in your hand and a sprained wrist from me,” Petro added.

“You should have heard him after we saw you in Pittsburgh. He kept looking for you at the game that night, too.”

You smiled up at Vince, who was blushing all the way up his ears now, but he just wrapped his arm around your shoulders and buried his face in your hair. Yeah, you could definitely get used to that. You elbowed him in the ribs a little bit, but his arm just tightened around your shoulders.

He and Colton walked you and Hannah back to your car outside the arena, Colton chirping Vince relentlessly the whole way.

Vince grabbed your hand before you could get in your car. “I’ll text you, yeah?” He looked unsure, which was probably the first time you’d ever seen him nervous around you. “Sammy won’t stop asking me when you’re baking us cookies.”

“I don’t remember saying anything about baking Sammy Blais cookies,” you laughed. “Text me when your next day off is, and we’ll see about those cookies.” And then, because apparently you couldn’t stop doing impulsive things tonight, you pushed up on your toes to kiss Vince on the cheek before climbing into the car.

Your phone vibrated in your cupholder less than five minutes later, and you knew without checking that it was Vince.

#cait writes things #vince dunn #vince dunn fic #vince dunn imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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mymelancholiesblues · 3 years ago

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No, Mia isn’t "low-tier" compared to Ada (morally speaking, or w/e) – a measured answer?/essay

So, a couple of Ada haters tried to put up a false symmetry between both of these characters there on twitter, and it inspired me to put my own thoughts down in a more articulate essay as to why that's (Ada's somehow being morally worse than Mia) not sustained by canon in Resident Evil.

standing there, killing time

can't commit to anything but a crime

all the good girls go to hell

'cause even God herself has enemies

and once the water starts to rise

and heaven's out of sight

she'll want the Devil on her team. ⁕

First things first: let us debunk the false symmetry that they tried to establish between these two characters with extremely distinct archetypes – and worse, the following replies to this false symmetry and its poor arguments trying to validate it, pointing out that, in fact, no, character B (that would be Ada, btw) – which is so evidently and ridiculously different from character A (and that would be Mia) – is, in fact, WAY WORSE than character A, and then proceeding to assert some unsupported propositions about misogyny in Resident Evil (which, tbh, definitely IS a recurring problem in the franchise, but that in this case particularly, little or does not apply AT ALL) and how Ada contributes to "the perpetration of a biological cold war".

Starting with what differentiates Mia from Ada grotesquely: we know NOTHING of Ada's true alliances in RE's world. Mia, however, canonically worked for a group that participated in the importation and exportation as well as the manufacturing, testing and marketing of biological weapons: "The Connections", a CRIMINAL SYNDICATE which, amongst other things, was also involved in money laundering, assassinations as well as weapons and drug trafficking. I don't care at all about Mia, so I don't intend to waste much of my time going on about her role in the plot, but people should've already realized by just that much how infinitely dishonest is to try to put these two characters as "similar" ones, or argue that Ada is somehow worse.

Another detail that shouldn't escape anyone's attention too, are the origins and nationalities of both – and yes, I intend to briefly bring up racism against eastern-Asian looking characters (a silent plague that takes form by each passing day in all fiction fandoms) and anti-China xenophobia, but for now, hold this tea there just before I drop it: Mia is canonically American, and previously a Texas-state resident; meanwhile, we have no confirmation of Ada's nationality except for her pretty evident Chinese ancestry. But, as I said, hold it there for a while.

i) espionage — the job

red so silent

wait a minute

or just a little while.

what are you looking for? ⁕

At all times that Ada's "job" was brought up in this franchise, in ALL of her cameos, she has NEVER been called a mercenary in the original Japanese. She's always referred to as a SPY. Even in RE2R, the most recent title in which she's featured in, the original text of the game makes a point of labelling her as a SPY (and not a mercenary) in the dialogue that transpires between Annette and Leon.

It's the North-American translation and correspondent localization that now and then falls for the equivocal use of this other term. This distinction is important since espionage NECESSARILY implies operating in an organized service for, perhaps a country, or a political cause, or a class/group, or a corporation, or whatever. While a mercenary is someone who's acting per their self financial interests, indiscriminately selling their specialized "labour" and skills to anyone who'll offer more.

Ada's not a mercenary, she's a spy. But Mia, in addition to being hired to a canonically criminal company, was also the handler personally assigned to Eveline. I don't care how exactly Mia got in that predicament but the fact is: Mia was canonically employed by a company that profited over illicit activities and directly watched as a family was destroyed and toyed with by this new killing machine (Eve). Yet, we can't state for sure that we know to whom or to what Ada is truly affiliated with.

ii) sources — check them

who's a heretic now?

am I making sense?

how can you make it stick?

and I'm on a trial

waiting 'til the beat comes out. ⁕

This fandom should put a little more thought into which translation and localization of the game texts, dialogues and files they are using to support their arguments. I know that in some cases the United States people have a bit of an inclination to think of themselves as the owners of the planet and deem English as the only language that matters in this world, but let's not forget that RE is a Japanese franchise (wow, insane, right?!). Therefore, the most valid script, with the greatest amount of details, and highest credibility, is the Japanese original. Throughout these years, there have been several errors in translation and localization of the Japanese original to North-American English. And, believe me, curiously enough, plenty of those concern Ada, since she's often mentioned or referred to in a very vague way – without the use of pronouns or adjectives or adverbs that could help in indicating gender. This ended up causing those details and mentions to her to get overlooked, even though in the Japanese text it was a clear reference to her character (per observation of context).

iii) the good guys — one of

head in the dust

feet in the fire

labour on that midnight wire

listening for that angel choir

you got nowhere to run

careful son, you got dreamers plans

but it gets hard to stand. ⁕

Yes, as much as haters try to minimize it, it is SIGNIFICANT that Ada saved so many important characters and stood for unquestionably heroic actions in so many moments - like stopping everything she was doing so she could help completely random Chinese civilians with the helicopter she managed to pilot in that chaos in China (yeah, I know you haters love to forget about this, but it happened, it's there in canon, and no, it wasn't her direct OR indirect responsibility what was going on in China: REPLAY RE6 and for the love of GOD, never again argue that what she did was somehow "the equivalent of evacuating a city after selling a WMD to destroy that same city". It's a case of pure intellectual dishonesty to say such a thing. It's canon that Carla was the one who caused what happens in China, PLEASE, PLAY RE6).

Furthermore, Ada shows compassion on some occasions even for characters who are directly putting her in harms ways, like Annette (in RE2 OG, right after - in order to defend herself - she slaps Annette leading her to lose balance and collapse over the sewers fences, Ada makes an effort in trying to pull Annette back and prevent her from falling) and Carla.

Replay RE4 and pay attention to it, pay attention to her solo campaign: getting involved with Leon's journey in Spain hasn't brought any real benefit to her mission or herself: Ada deviates from her main path several times due to worrying about him and trying to help him and almost ends up dead in several of these occasions over her insistence in doing so: by saving him from Bitores Mendez, by helping him and Ashley against Sadler, by confronting Krauser and stopping him.

It's so lazy to only read/listen to a file in which she says in English that "Leon might be useful to her plans" (this is way more nuanced in the Japanese original of Ada's Report), and ignore everything that was SHOWN in the game: every effort she made to ensure that Leon could rescue Ashley, remove the parasite from his and her bodies, and escape from that hell-island.

The jet-ski she left for their escape was ALREADY there before she was captured by Sadler (or you think she arranged it while she was caught?). Leon having to intervene and save her from Sadler WASN'T her plan. It WASN'T her plan to take the sample from Leon's hands. She wanted to help him get out of there with Ashley and she guaranteed he could do so, she wanted to get the sample by herself and escape too while sending that hell to kingdom's come. But, because she chose to help Leon rescue Ashley right in front of Sadler, she ends up captured.

On her end, Mia never did anything minimally compared to that, and all of her "selflessness" or self-sacrificing actions involved a much, MUCH smaller scope than Ada's: wanting to help her husband and HERSELF is not at all comparable to saving a few dozens of unknown Chinese civilians. So no, they aren't "cut from the same cloth". They don't come from the same place, nor do they share the same intentions or goals, and their contributions to the RE storyline are quite different.

iv) unknown true purpose (shades of grey)

lining up in the background

waiting for the crowd shot to be seen

in the shadow of the big screen

everybody begs to be redeemed. ⁕

In databooks, Ada is recurrently described as "a Chinese spy with extraordinary physical abilities, vigorous health and composed mind and spirit, capable of coping with grim situations and handling even the most difficult requests without losing composure". If we are paying attention to the storytelling ingame, however, we know that this isn't always the case: Ada did let her mask of unswerving emotional and physical strength fall and showed a very fragile side under strenuous circumstances a couple of times already.

Also, in these databooks, they often point out that "she has her own 'true purpose' and has FREQUENTLY betrayed organizations and clients to achieve it". Huh, we can AGAIN, by this only, see how completely different she's from Mia, who personally watched an entire family being driven to insanity by Eveline's hand.

Furthermore, in these databooks, it's often said that "this true purpose is still obscure and whether she truly cared for anyone or simply used her charms to manipulate people that crossed paths with her isn't ever clear". If people are willing to be open-minded and exercise their text comprehension skills, though, they'll see that in multiple occasions of emotional confrontation it has been established time and time again that yes, Ada DOES care. She wasn't capable of shooting Leon and there has been a couple of other times that failing to choose a cool, sociopathic calculation and pragmatical demeanour over empathy and humanity towards others has put her in harms ways: nonetheless she still chose it.

v) positive impact

I'm gonna break the cycle

I'm gonna shake up the system

I'm gonna destroy my ego. ⁕

To this point, RE's plot systematically leads us to believe that Ada has been covertly acting behind the scenes of multiple biological incidents COLLECTING INFORMATION (the job of a spy, who would've thought! lmao), that is valuable to numerous organizations, companies, groups and different contexts, but at the same time of allegedly offering to handle this knowledge for the right price to the big players involved with bioterrorism and clandestine trading of bioweapons, she's also working to sabotage said players.

This is evident throughout the franchise: she intended to hurt Umbrella's business. She outwitted and deceived Wesker multiple times. She even undermined Simmons, someone who was in a position of power in the US government and actively using that position to lead bioterrorist ventures on the parallel side.

There's no concrete evidence or hint as to what she does with the information she collects, and for all purposes and effects, I can presume that she's gathering this knowledge to assist in the discovery of countermeasures and vaccination studies. I might as well argue that she is a Chinese spy who is working against European and North-American capitalism and the imperialism that creates such monsters like the biochemical and bioweapons industry and that her real objective is to dismantle the market for bioweapons and bioterror supported mainly by the USA (see: Simmons and The Family).

That is, as long as it is unclear what her true purpose is, I have the freedom to surmise whatever the heck I want and that all of what she's been doing was for the sake of the greater "good" - and I'll even have canon moments to support this reasoning as it's clear that she regularly sabotages her customers (customers that are unquestionably established as playing for the "evil" side, with perverse intentions) - throughout the franchise. She did this on RE2, RE4, RE6 and Damnation. It's there, transparent in canon, people just choose to ignore it.

She laughs in the face of whoever she's talking to by the end of Damnation, saying she doesn't intend to deliver the Plaga; she scoffs at Simmons; she betrays Wesker and kills Krauser. She had been sabotaging Wesker for so long, that he sent Krauser to be the main agent in the mission in Spain, and Ada was just a "side effect" that he didn't have in control and had to keep an eye on, so he ordered Krauser to keep tabs on her. It's not a mutually beneficial dynamic. Ada doesn't want Wesker to succeed, she despises him; this is clear in the games in which they interact. There are even files that indicate that she was trying to double-cross and get in the way of his plans for at least 2 years before Spain, and he was constantly catching up with her. See here and here.

On her end, Mia was employed by and consciously working for a criminal syndicate.

vi) a (secretly) helping hand

oh, I'm a master pretender

just felt more alone

the further I'd go

but I'll stick around

I'll be your master defender

yeah, I'll stick around. ⁕

Ada approached characters such as John Clemens and Luis Sera, and both had a canonical intention to, in addition to putting an end to their connections with the criminal companies and organizations they've been working for, also expose and denounce them for their crimes. It's in this context that Ada comes into contact with them. And why is that?

Check John's background: he had made up his mind about disclosing Umbrella's crimes to the public. Check Luis' background: Ada went to Spain to assist in his extradition since he feared for his own life if he resolved to turn his back on the cult of Los Illuminados, and also dreaded the consequences of the liberation of Las Plagas on an international scale.

Keep in mind that Ada handed over to Wesker a USELESS Plaga sample. Wesker only got the sample currently circulating in the underground market because he went after Krauser's body. We don't know what Ada did with the master Plaga sample she obtained. We only know from Ada's Report and the Plaga Recovery file that she didn't deliver it to Wesker, and he needed to go out for a plan B to get it.

Even the G-Virus sample that fell into the hands of the clandestine business, it's possible to argue that Ada's involvement in it was flimsy, since Simmons CANONICALLY made over a thousand laboratory tests in Sherry, and, as we know, he was a leading figure in bioterrorism and bioweapons trading with the aid of his position in the US government.

But, guess what, Ada clearly is a non-white character with obvious Chinese heritage and Mia is white, so of course, OF COURSE, someone can so nonchalantly affirm that Ada, this "vile bitch", is somehow WORSE than Mia. The same Mia who watched the Bakers being destroyed. Right.

Also: trying to validate one's point by claiming anything related to the misogyny present in RE franchise, while IN THE SAME BREATH AND TWEET reducing Ada's entire character arc to that of "a sociopathic bitch cured by the magic dick of her love interest" is supposed to be a joke, right? No, really. Joke.

conclusion and a word against misogyny

we are waiting on a telegram to

give us news of the fall

I am sorry to report

dear Paris is burning after all

we have taken to the streets

in open rejoice, revolting

we are dancing a black waltz

fair Paris is burning after all. ⁕

To any Ada fan that has been reading this so far: PLEASE, I ask to consider refraining to use the "oh yes, Ada did some bad shit, bUT" take to defend the character because that isn't sustained by canon in RE, lmao. She didn't do anything evil that had an indisputable bad impact on the plot and other characters arcs. For one, I myself do love some villains, but that isn't the case with Ada.

She did do some unconventional shit yes, since she's a morally GRAY character and an anti-heroine, but by the end of the day, each and every action of hers had a positive impact on the journey of other characters and main plot. Just pay attention to it.

Like idk man, Black Widow, Elektra Natchios, Scarlet Witch and Black Cat from Marvel, Catwoman from DC, Yennefer from The Witcher (some pop culture examples that come to mind).

Saying that this is an "extremely selfish prototypal bad bitch except when it comes to the magical redeeming dick of her love interest" it's a grotesque reduction of a complex female character, and, in its attempt to critique the misogyny present in RE's franchise an expression of misogyny in itself.

Remember: Ada has actions and impact on the franchise ASIDE and IN ADDITION to her romantic involvement with Leon.

#Resident Evil #Ada Wong #Leon x Ada #Ada x Leon #Aeon #Leon Kennedy #[mine]#[meta]#//#Aeon fandom

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being-held · 3 years ago

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There’s Something Strange About How It All Began by Alexis Pera

A draft piece for a book not yet written. Enjoy.

I. eight when I first caught fire. It was a cold day in my village, as it usually was, near the shores of the lake where my family’s home was built. It was a small dwelling in my home region of Plivium. It rained a lot in Plivium, unlike the rest of Alienis, and no one knew why, or no one really cared. It was home, no one questions that. But, when it wasn’t pouring, most Plivumians preferred to be outside. We kind of had to be, or else the work would never be done, the harvest never brought up, and the damages never fixed. So as my parents worked, I was free to roam and explore.

Yet, out of all the land my parents had, all the forests and rivers and ponds, I loved my father’s garden, beautiful in every sense of the word. He had grown flowers of every color and nurtured trees so full of fruit we could never harvest them all. It was my favorite place in the entire world. I would run through the paths, looking up the entire time as I watched the trees rush by and the leaves brush my legs as I went. Who knows how many times I fell, or tripped, or just ran full on into things. My father would always scold me about being more careful, but he would have a smile on his face because he was more than amused by how happy I was despite having just run into a tree or tripped over some vines. My mother would be more upset, she didn’t like seeing me hurt, even if I wasn’t upset about it, and I always had bruises and scratches but a smile on my face. Of course, that all stopped the day I Specialized.

Most children didn’t Specialize until they were older, when they were turning into grown men and women, but I didn’t. I was still a child, still scared of the stories my parents told me about Specializing, still carefree and unable to prepare for what would happen.

Because gaining your Specialty and becoming one with nature was something that usually didn’t come in a nice package with a pretty bow. It was painful and unpredictable, and with my family’s bloodline, my Specialty was to be even more so.

The wind was strong that day, or so I thought at least, and it kept growing more and more until the chill in my spine wouldn’t go away. Then my small kid brain finally realized that none of the trees or plants were swaying from its force, and that my clothes and hair were still in place. I was then wondering why I was so cold and why it felt like someone was waving cold air on my neck. I didn't have much time to think about it.

A searing pain had bloomed in my temples, my vision and balance immediately going awry. It was paralyzing, and as I hit the dirt, a terribly cold tingling took over my hands and arms.

My mother found me first, and she was the one who first saw the visible effects of what was happening. My fingers, hands, and lower arms had turned completely black, right up to my elbows. And though it seemed as if I stuck my hands into a smoldering fire pit, my skin was entirely numb to feeling. The headache had faded and vision only slightly better at that point, so I was left sitting on the ground staring at my arms as if they didn’t belong to me. In that moment, it didn’t feel like they did.

Then the second wave hit.

While my vision cleared enough for me to see and the overall pain had deadened to a dull throbbing, my arms sparked and white flames enveloped them. I couldn’t feel it, I couldn’t stop it, I could barely see it, but I screamed and yelled and cried. My mother didn’t know what to do, neither did my father when he finally found us. They couldn’t come near, and my mother learned that the hard way. She hated seeing me in pain, so her motherly instinct to hold me, to comfort me, backfired when she tried. She now has a large burn scar down her right arm, a daily reminder of how dangerous I was.

Because to the horror of myself, my mother, and my father, I had managed to inherit one of the rarest and most dangerous Specialties known to our world, called Aerdior. The unfortunate ability to conjure heat from one’s skin. My version of it, of course, came with the bonus of flames.

I don’t remember the rest of that day. I just know that my parents had to reach out to one of our neighbors, who could manipulate water, to put me out. And that that day was when everything became different.

II.

I can’t count how many times in a day I used to catch fire. At first, it was really often, every hour or so, and that’s how I was forced to learn how to will it away. And eventually I could. And after a month, it would go down to every two hours. And after another month, three to four hours.

By the time I was nine, I could go at least two days without catching, on a good week.

I also can’t count how many times I’ve hurt someone or something around me. It would come so suddenly, I never had enough time to get away from whatever I was touching. My father had a couple burns on his shoulders and arms, my mother on her fingers and hands. I banned myself from my father’s garden after I destroyed almost half of my father’s rare Cossia flowers, and later from even going outside when I injured a creature that had come too close. I spent most of my time in my room, where anything that wasn’t or couldn’t be fireproofed had been removed. I cried when my mother wanted to take my books, but my father, who taught me to love and cherish reading, spent almost two weeks trying to figure out a way for me to keep them. He finally found the perfect mixture of plants and special roots to create paper that couldn’t burn. And he then spent the next several months copying all of my favorite books onto the special paper so I could read them. I only have one of those copies now.

I was terrified and paranoid of my Specialty, and of what I could do. No matter where I was or who I was with, I had to watch what I touched and how I handled things. Before long, I was labeling everything as burnable or unburnable, what I can’t touch and what I can, who I couldn’t take the chance on and who I could. It was an unbearable existence for a nine year old child.

And then we moved.

I say moved like it was optional, like we made the choice, but truly, we weren’t just changing scenery, we were running.

I don’t remember much of it. One day we were happy; my mother, my father, me, and the little baby in my mother’s belly that we were all so excited for. Then the next, I was being dragged through the forest by my parents who kept insisting everything was alright. Right up until it wasn’t.

My father died that day, protecting us. My mother will only tell me that without him saving us, we wouldn’t have escaped, we wouldn’t have made it to earth, the Connected World.

It’s been nine years, and she still refuses to tell me more.

But now, I only catch randomly, with no pattern. A rushing feeling will run down my spine, and then my fingers will start turning black. If I don’t separate myself from my surroundings and put all my willpower into making it go away, I will eventually catch, though it’s much slower on earth.

My mother would always tell me that it was all a blessing in disguise, that coming to earth was good because I was less likely to hurt others. I used to believe that, and maybe a small part of me still does, but now I know that it doesn’t make a difference. Who am I to have a better life when my father never got to live the rest of his?

III.

My little sister was born the day we came to earth. Because of the way we came, in the chaos and madness, my mother went into labor not even an hour after arriving. We had come through the Pathway into an old church, which had seemed to be abandoned with no one left to take care of it. I was the only one there to help my mother as she gave birth.

It was a horribly long, terribly painful, and rather traumatizing experience that I would never like to experience again. But once it was over, we had another problem to handle. Because my little sister didn’t come out crying.

My mother had pretty much passed out once the baby was out, so I was left to try to understand what was happening. It was, fortunately, not long before I realized that my sister wasn’t dead. She was still moving and her heart still beating, with her face scrunched up as if she wanted to cry but just couldn’t get it out. She was mute, a birth defect common to Plivumians.

I had shifted my mother into a lying position and covered her with an old curtain I found, then proceeded to wrap my new born sister in the torn up cloth from my shirt. I held her as she slept, and didn’t sleep myself, and that night I named her. I never asked my mother after if she liked the name I picked, or of she was upset that I did, but I was fully convinced that my father would have loved it.

I named her after my father’s two favorite flowers, the ones which he had spent years growing to be perfect for their blooming season, and the ones I adored more than any of the others. Her name was Pella Cossia, my little sister. And the only thing I thoroughly remember from that day, was the promise I made to her, that I would never let her get hurt, that I would protect her no matter the costs.

I still keep that promise, and I don’t ever plan on breaking it.

IV.

We found the dwelling, or town, as the earthans called it, that the church belonged to, and met many people who were confused about who we were and what had happened to us. One person called himself an officer, and he helped us find clothes and food. We also met a lady who gave my mother a job at a restaurant, which at the time was a very strange concept, as we didn’t have restaurants or food suppliers back in Plivium. But we adapted quickly, and it was only a year of taking help and staying in hotels before my mother could finally afford a home.

It was a small, unkept, dirty place, but we were decent enough at cleaning and home-keeping to get it livable again.

By the time we found out about school, I was twelve and completely unqualified. But due to the laws of the land, and the strict suggestions of anyone we knew, my mother thought it wise to send me to school. The idea of school seemed promising, an organization built to help children learn and grow in the world, but the actual reality of it was a lot more disappointing. The education part was pretty much an afterthought, as the talking, sports, and teasing took the forefront. I came to be a wallflower, even more so because of the... heat problem. People liked to point out that I wore sweaters and gloves all the time, even when it was warm; little did they know that I couldn’t feel warmth at all, or cold for that matter. The sweaters and gloves were more for a safety precaution(made of a special heat resistant material that took years to find and use), and a comforting mechanism.

I caught up quickly; in my studies, that is. I was pretty much enthralled with anything I didn’t already know, as we didn’t have education anything close to Earthan education back home, where we learned to read, write, count, and that was it. In Plivium, reading more than what basic training required was like being a genius, which both my father and myself easily overstepped. But on earth, being an avid reader was somewhat normal, and even the small amount of people who actually enjoyed learning maths and science and literature were many more than at home. I also had more than enough time on my hands, as I still stayed cooped up in my bedroom with things least fire-prone. I had more books than clothes, and more library passes than shoes, which I was more than okay with. I enjoyed it, even if school itself was much less than fun and little more than torture.

Though as high school came, with my Specialty growing stronger and more worrisome, my mother thought it time to pull me out. At that time, I wasn’t attached to school, as long as I got to keep the books and the library trips. My mother obliged, but, unfortunately, she was still listening to coworkers and neighbors. Because apparently, by the time your fifteen, your supposed to have a job. Which, of course, my mother and I thought strange and ridiculous, because the whole employment thing was an entirely different situation at home. But we adapted anyway, and I managed to get a job at a small bookstore in town, but only because it was run by an older lady who majorly needed help.

I still work there today, and Mrs. Gorgio is like the grandma I never had, feeding me when I forget myself and praying when she knows my mother has a job interview. She instantly fell in love with Pella, and asks about her every day I come in. Pella doesn’t like books as much, preferring music and other loud ways of expressing herself, but she likes Mrs. Gorgio and the fact that the older lady wasn’t shocked to find she can’t speak. Pella comes in once a week, and is continually teaching Mrs. Goegio sign language so that it’s easier for them to communicate. I sometimes watch them interact, sitting in the big cushion chairs in the back of the shop, laughing and smiling and gesturing. It’s rather funny to see Mrs. Gorgio get the movements wrong, in which Pella will simply smile and correct her with gentle fingers.

When we walk home together, Pella will sign to me the whole way, explaining what they were working on and how Mrs. Gorgio has the best taste in music and why the old lady always wears that rusty necklace around her neck. Though I trip on the bumpy sidewalks and my own feet watching her hands fly, I don’t ever shove it off. I know how much it means to her, and that she looks forward to that one day of the week when I take her.

It also distracted me, helped me pretend that our lives were normal. And that we weren’t foreigners in disguise, tricking everyone into believing we belonged, when we really truly didn’t.

#random writing #writing #story writing #fantasy #otherworldly #fantasy writing #powers #super abilities #heat #fire power #creative writing #draft #first draft #alienis draft

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years ago

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Flatbush & Atlantic: part viii

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii

Here’s part viii! Tell your friends, tell your neighbors, tell your dog, tell the nosy woman who lives in the apartment above you. Remember to reblog, it helps the series reach more people, and as always - tell me what you think! I haven’t gotten much feedback so far and would love to know everyone’s thoughts, even if it’s only a few words.

part viii

April 19 (sun)

Cass was the most nervous she had been in her entire life. Okay, well maybe that was an overstatement. That honor probably went to the night law school acceptances went out, or when she sat with Alejandra — a friend from back in Texas — as they thought DACA was going to get rescinded, or when her dad lost his job when she was in middle school and their family was living paycheck-to-paycheck. It was Game 6 of the first round, the Islanders leading the series 3-2. The score was tied 1-1 halfway through the second period, a beautiful tip-in by Nelson that managed to just squeak past Mrazek. They had been up 3 games to none at the start of the series, with every intention to sweep the Hurricanes in Game 4 at home. But then they dropped two in a row — needless to say, tensions were running high coming into the night.

She was sat up in the club box with the WAGs and some other family members who had flown in for the occasion, in hopes that they’d be able to celebrate a win and a move to the conference semifinals. The team probably could have used with tightening up their backcheck, but the passes were spot-on and Cass didn’t see much room to complain. Lauren on the chair opposite, she sat next to Paige as the clock hit eight minutes left, clutching a glass of white wine as her foot nervously tapped the carpet. Paige placed a steadying hand on her arm. “They’re going to pull it off, you know.”

Cass ran a hand through her hair. “That’s what I keep trying to tell myself. And I know they’ve got the talent, and these guys are some of the hardest workers I know, but—”

“It’s hard trying to rationalize it,” Paige finished.

“Yeah,” Cass nodded, “and especially knowing how long the team’s gone without a cup, like it’s been, what,” she glanced at the banners in the rafters, “38 years since they’ve won?. That’s 13 years before I was even born.”

Paige looked down at the ice thoughtfully. “I guess there’s really not much you can do in these situations but have faith that all the training and all the effort’s going to eventually pay off.”

“I guess you’re right,” Cass said, though if she was being honest she didn’t like the subjectivity of the statement. Shitty things happen to good people all the time, bad people get away with terrible things all the time, and people who have worked their asses off don’t always get what they’ve spent their entire lives working toward.

There were just under six minutes left on the clock, and the first line had just gone back on. Anders took the faceoff, and Cass was so focused on the puck that she didn’t notice the gloves dropping on the other side of the ice until Paige let out a gasp, gently shaking her out of her trance. She was thrown for a minute; sure, fights were more uncommon since the league started cracking down on penalties, but they weren’t uncommon, so why did it matter that she paid any attention?

Five seconds later, and she understood. It was Mat. It took Cass a few seconds to really grasp it — Mat wasn’t a fighter by any means, she had never seen him in one even before they got together, so what had finally set him off? They traded punches as the refs struggled to get a handle on the situation, jerseys riding up as Cass’ hand squeezed like a vice grip on Paige’s knee. She was too anxious to even figure out who the other player was, just that he was tall and blond and had one fist gripping Mat’s collar as he dodged one of his blows. Mat tried to steady himself, tried to realign his center of gravity, but then the other player threw a punch at the side of his face and it clipped his cheek as he tried to avoid it and he couldn’t get his balance back and he fell. Hard. Helmets had gone off before the fight had even started, so there was nothing in between his head and the ice.

Cass’ hands flew up to her mouth, and Lauren had to stop her from sliding off the edge of her lounge chair. There was blood, and it was coming from his head, and if there was one thing her mother’s 30 years as a nurse had taught her, it was that blood from the head was never a good sign. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she whispered, feeling the bile rise up in her throat. Scratch anything she had said before, this was hands-down the most scared she’d ever been in her life. The love of her life was bleeding from his head down on the ice, and he wasn’t moving.

You could have heard a pin drop in Barclay’s Center as the whole crowd waited for Mat to get up. And waited. And waited. Cassidy barely noticed him being helped up by Jordan; she was already running through the halls, Paige right beside her, frantically pressing the down button on the elevator to take them to the dressing room. She didn’t pay any attention to the usher who was telling her that they were private elevators because Mat was hurt and he was bleeding and oh God oh God oh God I need to get to him I need to get to him.

She leaned her head against the cool metal of the side panel, long since having abandoned her efforts to control her tears as Paige tried desperately to comfort her. “The team has really good doctors, and if he needs a hospital, we have the best ones in the world right here in New York,” she said, but her words fell on deaf ears. Cass’ head jerked up. The elevator had dinged, indicating that they had finally reached the underground level. She turned left, headed straight for the locker room. There was no way he would have been left on the bench. Cass knew enough about hockey and enough about injuries to know that a hit that hard and blood that bad meant that he’d be taken right back.

By this time, she knew the way as good as anyone, and didn’t care who would try and stop her from getting in the room. Come hell or high water, she was going to see Mat. She passed the handful of puzzled arena staff, bursting into the locker room. “I’ll be out here,” Paige had said, but it barely registered. Mat was in a room off to the side, and thank God the trainer was one who recognized her, because he nodded at her as she lingered by the door, unspoken permission that she could enter. Cass rushed to Mat’s side, his eyes screwed shut in pain as the trainer — Carter, was it? Nick? She really couldn’t remember much of anything at the moment — held a pad of gauze to his head with a gloved hand.

“Doctor should be here any minute, Mat, just hang on,” he said.

Cass knelt down, hands shaking as she laced her fingers through his. “It’s going to be okay, Mat. You’re going to be okay.”

Mat opened his eyes just a sliver. “Cass?”

“Yeah, babe. I’m here.”

The door opened again, a man with a medical bag walking through the corridor and into the side room. “Dr. Khan,” he said to the trainer as he set the bag down, unclasping it. “Nick,” he responded. So it was Nick, Cass thought absentmindedly.

“I was watching from a box when it happened, got down as soon as I could. So, his head hit the ice? No helmet?” Nick nodded as Dr. Khan snapped his own pair of gloves on. He turned to Cass. “Are you the wife?” For a moment, Cass was thrown. He may have been a doctor, but this man really couldn’t have known much about the team if he thought one of their star players was married. If Mat Barzal was married, everyone would know.

After a moment, she shook her head. “No. Girlfriend.”

He nodded. “Okay. I’m fine with you staying as long as you keep out of the way, it shouldn’t take too long.” He turned to Nick. “A/O questions?”

“Knew his name, knew the year, knew where we are, knew who she is,” he tilted his head over at Cass.

“Good, good,” Dr. Khan said, moving over to take his place at the head of the table. “Head wounds bleed a lot,” he said reassuringly, looking over at where Cass stood, her nails bit down to nubs. She thought she’d quit the habit in fifth grade. “It shouldn’t need more than a staple or two.”

True to his word, fifteen minutes later the bleeding had subsided substantially, and Mat was sporting two very shiny, brand-new staples. “I’m sorry we had to shave a little, your lovely girlfriend was telling me how much pride you take in your hair. It’ll grow back quickly,” the doctor said.

Mat let out a groan. “I’m going to lose all of my millions of adoring fans. The hair’s all I got, you know.”

Dr. Khan chuckled. “I’m glad to see you’re in good spirits. I’m going to diagnose you with a moderate concussion. It could have been a lot worse, but you got lucky this time.” He turned to Cass. “Would you be able to stay with him for the next few days? He should be able to manage, but it’s always better safe than sorry and it would be good for him to have someone around in case anything comes up.”

Cass nodded. “Yeah. I’m in school, but outside of that. Yeah. I can stay.”

Nick walked back through the door, handing a few printouts to Cass. “Just some concussion stuff for you to know. Activities for him to avoid, symptoms to be aware of, what to do if things get worse. That kind of thing.”

Cass took the sheets. “Do you think things will get worse?” She asked worriedly.

Dr. Khan shook his head. “It’s not likely, seeing as how he’s relatively aware and the concussion could have been much more severe. But it’s always better to err on the side of caution when it comes to any medical situation.”

She nodded, nervously rubbing Mat’s thumb. “Should I...take him home now?” She asked, trying to think of how she was going to take him back to Manhattan on the train when lights and loud noises were the exact thing he was supposed to be avoiding right now, or how much an hour long Uber would cost.

“I’d like to keep him for a little longer, an hour or so, just for observation to make sure symptoms don’t get any worse.”

The next hour seemed to inch by, dotted with visits from Nick and Dr. Khan and one from Trotz during the second intermission. Mat was going to be out for somewhere in the vicinity of two weeks; everything was dependent on him being medically cleared and a slow return to training and team practices. The news gutted him. It wasn’t just that Mat loved hockey, he loved being out on the ice and in the thick of the action and with his team, his brothers, and it just seemed so patently unfair that he wasn’t going to be able to do that when they needed him the most. Doing the math, he had realized with heart-wrenching certainty that that meant he would maybe be able to make the last few games of the conference semifinals, and that was only if they made it that far. It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in his team, but the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to do anything but sit on the bench in a suit and hand out waters ate away at him.

Someone, maybe one of the equipment managers, had taken the liberty of packing up Mat’s things, and Cass was poking around trying to find his keys. He was pretty coherent by then, but still in no state to drive. She slung the bag over her shoulder, trying not to groan at its weight — she’d definitely be sore tomorrow — and helped him out of the locker room and back to the players’ parking lot, half-heartedly waving goodbye to the handful of players and staff that were still trickling out. The ride back to his apartment was quiet, and Mat barely acknowledged the news that the team had eked out a win with a powerplay goal late in the third. They were going to the second round, and it killed him that he might not get to be a part of it.

She parked in the underground lot, taking the bag once again despite Mat’s insistence that he could carry it himself, their ride up the elevator accompanied by a strangely specific playlist that was mostly comprised of late 2000s pop. “I slow danced with my first boyfriend to this song at our freshman year homecoming dance,” Cass said.

The corner of Mat’s mouth twitched up. “I Won’t Give Up?” She nodded. “What was his name?”

“Justin. He played varsity basketball, I did lacrosse and field hockey. We were the jockiest couple at school for the all of four months we dated,” she said wistfully. “He was a good guy, but I should have known things weren’t going to work out. He had a lot of growing up to do.”

Mat hummed in acknowledgement as she opened the door. “I didn’t know you played field hockey.”

Cass let out a laugh. “Wrong surface, I know. But yeah, I did, through junior year of high school. Dropped it senior year to focus on lacrosse and college stuff.”

“But you still did lacrosse in university,” he said, more like a statement than anything.

She nodded. “Club, yeah. It would have been cool to be on the school team, but D1 sports are super competitive, and I didn’t have time between A Phi and the Mexican Student Association and honors stuff there would have been no way I could have made it all work.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Anyone ever told you you’re a bit of an overachiever?”

She glared at him. “You’re lucky you’re injured, or I would have slapped you.” Heading over to the kitchen, she called over her shoulder, “I’m getting some water, do you want anything?”

“Water would be great.” Cass came back a minute later, handing him his glass. She looked at her watch. Past midnight. Then she looked at her phone, which she hadn’t checked since the middle of the game and which had understandably blown up since then. She responded to texts from Paige and Lauren and Kerry, sent Chris a message that she’d need tomorrow off to look after Mat, reassured Noah that Mat was fine and would be back on the ice as soon as humanly possible. Her brow furrowed. Three missed messages from the apartment’s group chat, The Fantastic Four, named largely due to the fact that Cass may or may not have had a not-so-little crush on Human Torch as a middle schooler; once the girls had gotten the story out of her, they never let her live it down.

10:44 - Ryanne: When do you think you’ll be back? Made spaghetti and wasn’t sure if I should leave it out for you or put it in the fridge.

11:17 - Stella: Were you taking the subway home?

11:39 - Alicia: I saw on Twitter Mat got hurt, is everything okay? Do you need anything?

11:55 - Alicia: Cass? You good?

“Shit,” Cass breathed, shutting her eyes for a moment.

Mat looked concerned, scratching at an itch under his gauze. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Cass said, typing a response. There was almost nothing she hated more than worrying people. Oh my gosh I’m so sorry guys! Yes, I’m good, Mat’s okay too. It’s a concussion so he’ll be out of play for a few weeks, but thank God it’s not worse. I hadn’t checked my phone since he got hurt, I’m so sorry to worry y’all!! I’m over at his, the doctor said he should have someone watching him for a few days just in case. I might come pick up a few things tomorrow, but I’ll be back Wednesday :)

Mat stuck his tongue through his teeth and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry you have to deal with all this,” he gestured at his head, “it shouldn’t be your responsibility.”

Cass smiled softly at him, leaning gently into his side. “It’s okay, I don’t mind it, taking care of you and all. Plus, acts of service are my number one love language.” He laughed. “But,” she started hesitantly, “I’ve got to ask. You’re not really a fighter.” His arm tensed around her, knowing what was coming. “So what made you drop the gloves? You don’t really ever let these things get to you.”

“Yeah,” Mat sighed. He really should have expected the question sooner, it wasn’t like it was an avoidable situation. “Um, he had just been chirping me for most of the game, just stuff about how I’m all talk and no talent, about my points drought earlier in the season, stuff like that.”

“And?” Cass pressed, knowing that there was something he was holding back. She wanted to help him, and she couldn’t do that without the full story.

“And you,” he admitted. “It’s not really that unusual for guys to chirp each other about girlfriends, but he was just saying some pretty nasty stuff about you. Just sexist, gross stuff. No one should say that about a girl, doesn’t matter who she is.”

As unfortunate as it was, Cass was pretty sure she knew exactly what had been said about her. She was a woman — a young, attractive woman — living in New York City, which was practically the world capital of catcalling, and her earbuds could only drown out so much. But still, Mat’s response had her heart skip a beat. “Thank you for defending my honor,” she said sweetly, turning her head to give him a kiss on the cheek.

He blushed. “If I could go back? I’d do it all over again.”

April 27 (tues)

Cass scrolled through her Twitter feed as she waited for Mat to arrive at the deli for lunch. It had been a week and a half since the injury, and things were definitely progressing — though not as fast as Mat would have hoped. She had stayed with him for a few days until he was feeling back to his old self, and though Mat hadn’t exactly been thrilled by Cass having to wake him up every three hours to be sure that he wasn’t, you know, dead, he had been a pretty good sport overall.

Reading and excessive screen use was on the no-no list she’d been given by Dr. Khan, so Mat had taken to a lot of listening to music and trying valiantly to pick back up his guitar skills once he was feeling up to it. Skills was perhaps a generous word, Cass thought, since the only song he had been able to play with any confidence by the end of the week was Rockstar by Nickleback. “It’s not that bad,” he had said defensively. “They get a bad rep.” Cass wasn’t so sure about that, but thought it would be a bit of a dick move to criticize his music taste, so she refrained.

She was jerked out of her thoughts by Mat, who greeted her with a bright smile and a kiss on the forehead. “How was your day, babe?”

She shrugged. “Pretty good, nothing special. Just got out of a Contracts seminar. Nothing quite as thrilling as debating the precedent set by Supreme Court cases from the 1980s.”

Mat barked out a laugh. “I’m sure. I don’t think I’d understand a single word of what they said, but that just proves what I already knew.”

“Which is?”

“That you’re ten times smarter than I am.” Cass laughed, and he opened the door. “Now, I’m starving. I want food.”

“Good thing we came to a deli, then,” Cass said dryly.

He snickered. “Guess I walked right into that one.” The couple stopped in front of the menu. “What’s good here?”

“Besides everything?” Cass asked. “Roast beef sandwich, grilled chicken’s pretty good too. And obviously the pastrami.”

Mat shifted from one food to another. “I’ve never actually had one,” he admitted.

Cass turned to look at him slowly, eyes wide. “You’ve never had a pastrami on rye?” He shook his head. “You’ve lived in New York for, what, almost four years now? And you’ve never had a pastrami sandwich?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Mat mumbled.

“Oh, it is,” Cass said, as they reached the counter. “I take my sandwiches very seriously, Mathew, and you’re about to find out why.” She waved to the man behind the counter. “Carlos!” Jabbering in rapid-fire Spanish as he assembled the sandwiches, she pulled out her wallet to pay before Mat even got the chance. “Él es mi novio,” she said, answering Carlos’ unspoken question and tapping her card on the reader. “Gracias, te veré pronto!” She grabbed the bag of sandwiches, Mat following her out the door as they walked down the block, peeling off to a side road with a small park. Cass shifted her backpack off, setting it on the ground beneath a small table that had become one of her go-to lunch spots since she, Les, and Fiona stumbled across it in their first year.

“So it seems like you’ve known Carlos for awhile?” Mat asked, unwrapping the sandwich.

Cass nodded, biting into hers and letting out an almost-euphoric moan.

Mat raised an eyebrow. “You usually save that for the bedroom.”

Almost choking, she swallowed the bite, leaning over the table and lightly slapping his arm. “Mat! But yeah, he started working at the deli sometime in spring of my first year. He moved from Puerto Rico, so that’s why we were speaking Spanish.”

“What was that you called me back there, anyways? Nuevo?”

Cass snorted into her coffee. “Nuevo means new. I called you my novio. It’s the word for serious boyfriend. Or fiancé, really. The language doesn’t make much of a distinction.” Cass sipped slowly, deciding to hazard a question. “How has your recovery been going?”

Mat perked up. Anything relating to hockey and he was all ears. “It’s going well, yeah. I was cleared to start working out the other day, they did some scans and said that everything looks like how it should, which is a relief. I’ve been a little dizzy but nothing serious,” he quickly added, seeing Cass’ nervous glance, “and I go back in two days to see if I can get back to training with the team. A day or two of that and fingers crossed, I’d be ready to play a game if we’re still in it.” The team was down 2-1 to the Capitals, and Mat had been tearing his hair out the entire week, frustrated beyond belief that he couldn’t do anything to help. He was a hockey player, a damn good one at that, and there was nothing he could do but sit in front of his TV and watch his team fall behind in the series. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be out there, scoring and making hits and making a difference, not cooped up like some toddler with a list of things he couldn’t do and couldn’t touch.

Cass could see that he was starting to retreat a little bit, so she reached out, squeezing his hand. “Hey, chou, listen to me.” He looked up. “I know it’s frustrating for you. Believe me, I know how much you want to be out there and how useless you might feel right now, but that’s all bullshit, you hear me?” Her eyes softened. “The best thing you can do for the boys right now is work out when you can, listen to your doctors, and focus on getting better. The city wants their golden boy back, and as cute as your pout is,” Mat’s lips twitched, “it doesn’t do anyone any good, least of all you.”

Cass was nearly done with her sandwich when Mat spoke again. “Graduation’s coming up fast, huh? What is it, a month from now?”

She nodded, picking up a napkin and dabbing at the mustard by the corner of her mouth. “Yeah, it’s the 22, so a little under a month now.”

“Is your whole family coming down?”

“Yeah,” Cass said, bounding her head. “Everyone’s able to make it, which is awesome, and so much more than I expected. Eliana gets out of school the week earlier, so it’s not a problem for her, and it’s on a Saturday so it’s a non-issue for Noah and my parents. My nana’s driving down with my family, and my mom’s parents are flying from Hermosillo.”

Mat gave her a confused look. “I thought they lived in Texas?”

“They started splitting time after they retired, they were the only ones who immigrated so all of their relatives were still down in Mexico,” Cass explained.

“Got it.”

She continued. “Yeah, so I’m really lucky that everyone’s able to make it, it’s been forever since the whole family was together. Which reminds me,” she said, pulling out her phone and sending a quick text, “I need to get their flight info. I promised to pick them up from JFK.”

“Why don’t I come with you?” Mat asked quickly.

Cass was confused. “What if you’re still playing?”

He waved his hand. “Obviously not then. But if we’re not, I’d love to come. I could drive around so you wouldn’t have to pay for parking, and it would be nice to meet them before your graduation.” The unspoken addendum was if I’m able to make it. Game 4 of the Stanley Cup Finals was scheduled on the day of Cass’ graduation; Mat knew that realistically, the chances of making it that far were slim, but the thought of not being able to celebrate with her, celebrate her, caused a pang in his heart.

Her smile could have lit up the sun. “I’d love that, I really would. And you’re going to love my grandparents. I’ve told them so much about you and they’re excited to finally meet you in person.”

Mat beamed. “I’m glad. Hey,” he added, treading lightly. “Have you heard back from any of the places you’ve applied yet?” He knew of at least a half-dozen firms and nonprofits she’d interviewed with, but if any of them had resulted in an offer yet, she hadn’t told him.

Cass looked down at her hands. This was the conversation she had been dreading ever since last week. “Cass?” Mat asked again, more hesitantly this time. He could tell something was up. “Uh, yeah.” She said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Yeah, I have. You remember that tech company I interviewed with the other week?

“Yeah, the ones that do computers and stuff?” Mat asked, confused. If she got the job, then why did she seem so nervous?

She nodded. “Yeah. They got back to me a few days ago...and they offered a position.”

Mat stood up, ready to walk around the table and wrap her in a massive bear hug. “Cass!” He exclaimed. “That’s awesome! You said it sounded like really interesting stuff, and the company’s in New York so you wouldn’t even have to move—”

“That’s the thing,” Cass said, cutting him off. “They’re headquartered in New York, and I thought I was applying for a position in New York, but it turns out everything was ‘space available,’ whatever that means.” She finally looked up at Mat. “The job’s in Hong Kong.”

He feels like he’s had the wind knocked out of him, and sat back down in his seat hard. So hard, in fact, that he almost knocked it over, but he barely noticed. Hong Kong? That’s a whole country and the world’s largest ocean away, and the thought of losing her to a whole different country wasn’t something he ever could have anticipated. He’s finally gotten something so good, someone so good, and the thought that it could all be taken away in the blink of an eye was a possibility he hadn’t even allowed himself to consider.

Mat swallows. “Are you...Are you going to take it?” He asks thickly. She looks down at the coffee cup in her hands, the same speckled white-and-blue one Mat gave her back in the fall. God, October seems like a lifetime away from where they are now. “I don’t know,” she admitted, and he felt a weight lifted off of his chest. “I don’t even know if I want it, and I didn’t want…,” she tapped her fingers on the scratched stone table, “I didn’t want to decide anything without talking it over with you first.”

His head felt like lead when he tried to nod. “Okay, yeah. That makes sense. So, let’s talk.”

“It’s not something I ever saw myself doing,” Cass said.

“The moving to a foreign country part or the job itself?” Mat asked.

Cass scrunched her nose. “Both, I guess. Sure, I applied to places all across the country, but that was more for job security than anything. I needed cash flow to start paying off my loans, and as much as I love nonprofit and pro-bono work, it doesn’t really pay well. That’s sort of the whole point.

Mat reached behind himself to throw the sandwich wrapper into the trash can. “Do you like what they’d be having you do?”

“It’s contracts and negotiations, so it’s interesting enough. I like the topic and I know I’m good at it. But it’s not what I originally imagined for myself,” she conceded.

“What did you think you’d be doing?”

Cass let out a strained breath. “When I first got to law school, I was convinced I’d do immigration law. I’m passionate about it, feel like I’ve got a stake in the matter, and Spanish fluency is a really good skill to have in the field. And I loved getting to work in the clinic on deportation appeals. The day I got a stay for my first client was one of the happiest days of my life,” she added. Mat couldn’t help but smile. Even with mountains of uncertainty threatening to topple over on them, Cass had such a good heart and he’d always be proud of that. “But I’ve loved what I’ve gotten to do with Chris in the office. If I’m being honest, I didn’t think that I’d like it.”

Mat’s curiosity was piqued. “How come?”

“I think part of it had to do with how rushed and nervous I felt about the whole thing. It was pretty much my last chance and I really just threw my application together without thinking. I didn’t have time to worry if I’d actually like what I was going to be doing. It might just be my Rangers bias coming through, but I think I thought it would just be Scandal-type dealing with dumb shit players did, getting them off the hook for drunken escapades or finding contractual loopholes to save the team money on the salary cap.” She shrugged. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“So,” Mat said said slowly, “if this isn’t the kind of work you wantedto do, why are you thinking about taking the job?”

“Couple of things,” Cass said. “The company culture is really good, by all accounts they hanuinely care about their environmental impact and worker’s rights, they make sure everyone on the supply chain is given a living wage. Good upward mobility, and there’s a half-dozen offices around the world that you can apply to transfer to after five years. Benefits and salary are are some of the best I’ve seen for new hires.”

“But would you be happy?” Mat asked, so softly that she almost missed it.

Would I? Cass thought. It was never the plan for her to move so far away; she’s never lived further than a few hours from home and as much as she hated to admit it, the prospect of not being in the same time zone as her family terrified her. What if her abuelo has another stroke, and she’s halfway across the world? What if she’s not able to hold her brother when he goes through his first heartbreak? What if she isn’t there to kiss Mat when he hoists the Stanley Cup for the first time? But what if she hates herself because she never took the chance? She finally looks back up, feeling like Mat’s hazel eyes are boring straight into her soul. “I don’t know.”

#hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #mat barzal #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey writing #nhl #nhl writing #nhl imagines #nhl fluff #hockey fluff #mathew barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal imagines #New York Islanders #new york islanders writing

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alexanderpusheen · 4 years ago

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what frustrates me the most abt this china narrative is that the US created al qaeda and ISIS, those groups are recruiting and causing terrorism in xinjiang, china has been trying to handle the situation with re-education programs often suggested by westerners, and its still being treated as this major human rights violation. there are actually dozens of countries with several robust anti radicalization programs that are just as strict, like singapore, colombia, yemen, bangladesh, saudi arabia, and indonesia. this paper ive linked to was even funded by the DHS so like...why has detaining someone and basically reverse brainwashing them out of being a terrorist been so acceptable for so long but now its an issue?

if you take issue with chinas program, you have to prove its somehow exceptional to these other programs. since we really dont have any way of knowing what is truth or reality thanks to the enormous disinformation campaign going on, you fucking cant. we dont even know what the programs entail because even googling it gets you exclusively hyperbolic concentration camp accusations.

what i will say is that relations between the han majority and the uyghur minority have been strained since at least the 80s. link is the notoriously conservative and pro US intervention human rights watch, so dont say im using pro commie sources or anything. every time i do any bit of research on this i seem to find an attempt from major news outlets in the early to mid 2000s or late 20-teens to prove this all started or became dramatically worse now, but things have always been tense. and its not really a surprise that things really got bad after the collapse of the soviet union, an event that was geographically close to china and the xinjiang region and also just like, a fucking major global event in general.

what i find to be very odd is just how dramatically the narrative has changed. the diplomat, one of my favorite periodicals, went from taking very nuanced and balanced positions on xinjiang that i almost completely agreed with to being just as aggressive as outlets like the BBC and CNN in the span of five years. they have eleven pages worth of articles on xinjiang, mostly covering the terrorism and beijings response (which i agree is too harsh) and xinjiang muslims’ relationships to the greater muslim world.

an example is how this article talks about the conflict at the time which warns of escalating violence as a result of han chauvinism and beijing being unable to deal with the extremism holistically. it points out how there were uyghurs captured among taliban ranks in afghanistan and how many might have even been working with ISIL.

The threat will not be an existential one to the Chinese state, as most Uighurs would prefer a peaceful accommodation. But even if only 1 percent of Uighurs hold extreme views, there are 10 million in Xinjiang and even for a state security apparatus as formidable as China’s, 100,000 or more angry people present a tough challenge.

i think its totally right that china does not allow people in that area to have cars, woodcutting tools, and amonium nitrate (which is used in bombs) is very strictly regulated. i completely agree that this is not how you combat terrorism. most people do not want war and broadly punishing these people is itself a human rights violation that went unnoticed until now.

however, in that same year, the diplomat also published this article about the infamous turkestan islamic party. members of TIP are like, literal jihadists lmfao.

TIP fighters call on the world’s Muslims to join the jihad against Western countries in internet videos. Perhaps most worringly for China, the TIP believes that Muslims may fight locally using various means instead of coming to Syria and Iraq to conduct a “holy war” against the “infidel” Western regimes.

yeah i definitely want to hear more about what these guys have to say. the article is really good because i think it highly illustrates just how dangerous these people are. theyve killed hundreds of people across china and want to establish a fascist religious state in xinjiang. while the article speaks for itself, i believe the last paragraph really highlights why china is being singled out whereas countries like france and canada are considered allies to muslims for whatever reason:

However, as experience has shown, China takes a passive position in the struggle against global Islamic jihad in Syria and Iraq. Beijing has not sent its troops to the Middle East to fight ISIS and has instead confined itself to diplomatic support for Russia and the United States. The Chinese government uses the attacks of Islamic jihadists to persuade Western countries to support Beijing’s position on Xinjiang and turn a blind eye when the freedom and rights of Uyghurs are harshly suppressed by Chinese security forces. Therefore, China is not perceived by the West as a reliable partner in the fight against terrorism. [emphasis mine]

im just a little surprised to see that a lot of these violent attacks from extremists throughout the years have targeted not just han chinese but also other uyghurs. in the west people do not typically sympathize with terrorists as freedom fighters, even on the left, because we know that no matter how angry or how seemingly justified the violence might seem, terrorism is unacceptable and it grossly misrepresents islam. it is a fascist act because those terrorists often follow an extremely right wing version of islam. also, we know that those who carry out terrorist attacks even outside of the west are middle class and professionals in some way, not poor and marginalized people. the level of nuance afforded to terrorists outside of xinjiang is pretty staggering.

yet in china, there seems to be this excitement than they are killing chinese people, even if some of those chinese are other uyghers or otherwise muslims. those who carry out attacks in xinjiang dont get any nuance or analysis because theyre justified.

ive referenced the diplomat earlier but this article from 2013 says it perfectly: Call Tiananmen Attack What It Was: Terrorism. except terrorism is bad. and the west wants you to support the uyghurs. and make no mistake, they do not want you to support the millions of uyghurs who want to live peacefully, free of any repression, american or chinese. they want you to support the jihadists randomly blowing up chinese and tourists alike because you are meant to sympathize with their plight.

terrorism isnt something to be romantacized or cheered on. it is something someone or someones do when they feel they have no other option. people do not want to kill even those they feel they have every right to because thats a line you cant uncross. murder changes you, justified or not. see the last chapter of wretched of the earth for this.

terrorism is great, however, for destabilizing a region or a country, and xinjiang is resource-rich. establishing a US-friendly regime, no matter how good they are on human rights, is the goal. the US does not care about muslims. they do not care about human rights. china, also, does not really seem to care about muslims or human rights either. but we’ve seen this since vietnam, and the US has learned since vietnam. the vietnamese were sympathetic. they were minding their business.

after vietnam, merely being communist isnt enough to warrant invasion. theyre killing their own people. nevermind that bolsonaro kills his own people and no one wants to invade (yet--biden has mention sanctions wrt us which is scary but again, thats got everything to do with making sure latin america is loyal to the west, not HR offenses). korea, although it was before vietnam, was less publicized and learning from vietnam gave the US a valuable lesson: always blame the victim. and thus, the US blames the victims of its violence. even if its ‘justified’, even if its ‘true,’ as was the case with saddam hussein, invading and occupying was the nightmare no one but the imperialists anticipated. because they dont broadcast what occupying forces do to the occupied. i am old enough to remember abu ghraib. have it seared in my memory forever. you perhaps are also old enough to remember, but also think millions of abu ghraibs and guantanamo bays are always worth it, always justified.

i know people arent going to read this and remind me really rudely that they didnt read it but i want to really emphasize how one of imperialism and colonialisms features is ethnic and racial separatism. how the rwandan genocide couldnt have happened without previous belgian and french rule. how yugoslavia wouldve remained a single country had it not been for NATO. i think its easy to diminish the role of the colonizer in all of this, but it is actually one of its goals: divide and conquer. exacerbate the existing conflicts to the point of genocide.

and if the west succeeds in balkanizing china, you will get more racism rather than less. you will see more violence against muslim minorities rather than less. they will feel less empowered rather than more. china has to learn that they are also to blame in a way that will be catastrophic for over a billion people. han chauvinism and outright racism must be addressed beyond window dressing.

wrapping up, china is in the wrong here. what theyre doing is racist and humiliating a population that has to be empowered. and the one child rule, even for the han majority, is imo fucking evil lol like sorry tankie tumblr im tankie too but i cannot for the life of me accept that as a good thing.... but i also dont buy the accusations of genocide, because even tho a lot of these articles are kind of glossing over it, china is trying to handle the terrorism in the region. imo theyre feeding into it by getting more han in the area, but also having more han but forcing them to take worse jobs would be a show of good will. idk, this situation is extremely complex and frankly, most uyghers do not want secession.

i also take extreme issue with people saying that adrian zenz is somehow reliable. not only is he a nazi crackpot, hes also literally the only source for almost all of what we know about this in the west. that is not how you do journalism. i dont understand how people are saying ‘yeah hes an extremely fascist grifter but also i believe him because hes anti communist and also anti china’. thats also not really the point? the point is that hes also the ONLY SOURCE on almost all of this, which is alarming.

i also find it very startling that in order to keep interest in the story, every few weeks the US has to remind people that the chinese are also doing what the US is doing to women in its own camps. forget that the US is separating minors from parents (since 2008). forget that the US is sterilizing women en masse (since 2017). forget that the US is raping women at the border (since there was a border). forget the US even has camps because now they arent even called that anymore. this is not that ‘you can be angry at two things at once’ but a clearly cynical attempt to get its citizens to forget that the US is detaining, deporting, sterilizing, and raping, and gassing non US nationals.

they are not ‘your own people.’ they are me. the other. i am an immigrant to the US, currently in my country of birth, so i am the other to you, the american. the chinese are doing the evil crime of killing their own. but the americans could never kill their own because they dont consider black americans to be their own. latin american nationals are not their own. bombing millions globally is not their own. thats always justifiable. there is clearly an element of racism in how these crimes are perceived as more or less evil.

the way immigrants and black americans are brutalized in the US is almost naturalized. like its the way things are supposed to be. you can live with that. its upsetting that you have to hear about antiblackness and the like but you know thats just how life is. you dont necessarily call for the US to be sanctioned or bombed by other countries because you believe in the inherent goodness of white america. but countries like china and iran and north korea deserve to be starved and killed for their crimes. and you can never say ‘maybe bombing and starving a country isnt the answer’ because it means you agree with it. you can never say ‘this is clearly propaganda to make me hate another race so much’ because it means youre a genocide denier. im sorry, but again, i remember iraq in 2003, i remember libya in 2011. i dont buy it.

finally, theres been a lot of attacks on asian people in the US lately and if you cannot see the violent way the US talks about china the country and how that influences people to harm asians within the US then idk what else to tell you. people will really believe this shit and say the chinese are all blood thirsty islamaphobes and thus need to be harmed. ‘im not like that! i defend my asian friends from racism!’ thats nice and all but idk how spreading some sinophobic propaganda designed by the US to make you support some kind of violence against one billion chinese people isnt inherently racist. also its unhelpful because sanctions dont really solve problems. but ive spoken too much.

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mooswords · 4 years ago

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OKAY MOO, I’M CURRENTLY READING UR FIC “Home” AND I’M— THE END OF THE FIRST PART WAS SO BEAUTIFUL. “he always comes home” -> IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL CONTRAST TO THE BEGINNING!!! he gets lost in his OWN fields, and that’s saying something. however, despite that, the reader still being reassured (or as much as she can reassure herself) that he always comes home = he has the red string to BRING HIMSELF BACK TO THE READER = ALWAYS COMING HOME. I’M!!!! and i love the silly banter that opened the story. aLso HIS HESISTATION OVER TELLING THE READER THE JOB HE WAS ASSIGNED... BECAUSE HE WAS WORRIED ABT THE READER.... AKDKSKKSKS. the fact he didn’t accept the offer immediately DESPITE being so in love with the sea and waited for reader’s permission is such a SMALL thing, but when you describe his love for the sea as superior, that action shows he loves the reader even more and i just- SLKDKAKDKSK. i might be over-reading and i apologise if i do bUT DO COMMENT ON IT THANK U!! 🤩💜 - ava

u sent me these eons ago and i promise i wasnt ignoring you ive just been working like 10 hour days and i am Exhausted 😭😭 but all of these messages legitamately give me life, i am so incredibly grateful! <3 im so so glad you enjoyed this fic!! and you are NOT OVERREADING I LOVE TO SEE YOUR INSIGHTS!!!! it makes me fall back in love with the fic all over again! <3

i am SO glad that him always coming home comes through! because it gets kinda dire in the middle of the fic so i wanted there to be that hope at the back of your mind that knew he always came home. but i wanted you to be stressed about it still so :) and silly banter is my favourite part of writing this guy, i had so much fun with it alskdf.

and ok i love u, you got everything i was trying to do there <33 like i was struggling to find the balance between her reluctance and supportiveness. thats a fun (and tricky) thing about established relationship fics i find... theres that depth of understanding that can make the interactions more interesting, but so much of it is unspoken. it was a good challenge! so its so GOOD to hear that it vibes right hehe

THE WAY KUROO PLAYS WITH THE STRING!!! THAT WAS SUCH A FOND MOMENT OMG AKDKSKDK. and it’s so interesting that it appeared before kuroo even left 👀👀👀

she already missed him 🥺🥺 i originally had him tug on her hair and then i went!!! wait!!!! we can do better than that!!!!!!!!

READER IS LOST WITHOUT KUROOO!!!! AKDKSKSK and i also love the little addition where despite it being a POUT, she holds it close to her heart. with the context of their banters + that little scene, it just shows me how much each appreciate every ounce of the other party which makes me SO SO SO SOFT AKDJSKDKSK. and then hitting me with the scene where reader is eating a meal alone??? a punch in the gut. when she realised she’s alone I TOO remembered that kuroo is gone and that softness established in the previous scene is sUCKED OUT—ASKDKSKSKSK.

im just a little obsessed with the little things and gestures that make u fall in love with someone? like the specific way my friend twirls her pen while were in lectures, or how my dad has that one little smile when hes amused himself with his own joke... and for that to be a last lifeline for her to hold on to before he leaves :’))) I JUST LOVE EST RELATIONSHIP FICS OK?!

hehehe yes im sorry about that puch to the gut oops 😇 that was a scene i had super clear in my head before i started - the bright, bright string against the relative drab of the table and room.

i’m at the part where reader gets lost and let me tell u, the fact they have a WAY to communicate via string pulling alone is SO ENDEARING and just subtly hints they have been at this whole red string thing for AGES (or at least enough to form such an understanding). that’s ADORABLE and really strengthens the bonds they have together

yessssssssssss as soon as i thought of this idea i knew it had to be an established relationship. i have it in my brain they have been married maybe 2-3 years?? i am such a sucker for unspoken understanding relationships :’)

“You push hurriedly through the crowd, ducking between market stalls and wagons. There’s no string to follow, but you don’t need it to find him today.” THIS SENTENCE WAS SO BEAUTIFUL in the context of the entire story. and what a perfect way to describe/show the reader that it’s THE DAY. MOO, you’re really serving such great kuroo x reader stories please continue AHHAHA

this entire fic was so self indulgent please dshlfkljadsb but im glad u like this line!! i tend to try visualise the scene like a movie first? and then write it, and this was also one of the first scenes that was super clear in my brain :D

402 DAYS!!!! I SEE WHAT U DID THERE 👀👀 also, is this is a little hint to how u had to wait until the end to see timeskip kuroo? HAHAHA that wld be adorable

WAIT YO THATS CLEVER? I DIDT EVEN- ava when i say that is a COMPLETE coincidence... i literally just picked a number that was longer than 365 days... breaking news i am a secret genius JKBDSCN

i also really liked the “in-between”: of reader’s life without kuroo. u can really see how integrated they are to each other’s lifestyle, and not only that, the scene where reader handles a twin’s birth (to me) strengthens how they’re reallllly soulmates. there is a low chance that kuroo knew reader was in a desperate situation, yet he pulled on the string at the time reader needed it. it’s just—telapathy but not really + soulmate system = SOULMATES. do i make sense? and i really love the details, like how we can trace back kuroo’s scar to a moment of reader’s life in the fic. putting it at the end sort of makes me reflect on their situations that happened simultaneously yet not really. it sort of fills me in with this,,, space. that the earth is so wide. i understand deeper what reader means by “oh he’s going to be gone for so long”. it’s just. wow. the earth is so big yk.

YES YOU MAKE TOTAL SENSE!!! it's such a lovey way of looking at it :') can they communicate and understand eachother like this cuz theyre soulmates? or just because they love each other and have learnt the other inside out?? hhnn this is why i love soulmate aus, theres so much to pull apart!!!

and ok yes on the topic of how big the earth is... im so glad u mentioned this, its my favourite part because (not to get like... super sappy or anything) i was writing this through the toughest stages of our second lockdown. our restrictions got to the point we werent allowed further than 5km from out homes, so writing about freedom and big spaces and exploration of far off places was such a nice escape for me :’) this fic has ended up very close to my heart. (plus i was reading @/w-yuren’s hq0819 series at the time so i had travel and adventure on the brain hehe)

THE ENDING.... THE ENDING.... THE WAY KUROO ASKED READER TO KI** HIM—IT’S LIKE THE KUROO IN MY HEAD YESSSSS. Gosh, this line too “when he kisses you he tastes like the sea; like salt-spray and dry rations and freedom.” may i have a director’s cut abt it :3 AND AKDJSKSK. i really love how the string appeared even tho they were together (the scene before kuroo docked on the ship) and once again, they are together, but none of them are lost because they r together-together. do i make sense? am i overreading things??? again, i have to comment on the banter. it’s simply amazing. kuroo’s replies are so,, KUROO, and they are filled with such FONDNESS I’M SO AKDKSKSK.

IM SO GLAD HE VIBES THANK U I THINK THE FONDNESS IS MY BIAS SHOWING BUT SHHHHH ;P you have picked one of my favourite lines out heheh it was one that just flowed out and wasnt one i particularly had to think about which is always nice. but i think it is a combo of me trying to be fancy lol and me being a huge fan of fantasy-books-set-on-ships. think like explorers or pirates, some rag tag bunch who have to set off on some quest and come back with some of that wildness imbued in their very being... yeah this line was definitely born from me Yearning i think :P

ooo do you mean the wedding scene? that was me trying to hit the ‘feeling lost in a crowd’ idea. you know when youre surrounded by people and joy and laughter and you just feel very small and disconnected? that.

ALSO READER’S DYANAMICS WITH KARASUNO CHARACTERS IS ADORABLE AKDKSKSKK. the festival scene was such a breather and it was adorable to see her interact with those characters. it feels like a snapshot in her life i simply adore that :3

ahh yea! i wanted her to have a life, you know? shes not the type to mope around, like life goes on. that doesnt mean she doesnt miss him oof but theres a whole community around to support her too!! and im very fond of takeda in this scene :’) he takes care of his crows <3

I RAMBLED SO BAD BUT THANK U AGAIN LOVELY I CANT EXPLAIN HOW AMAZING THESE ARE TO RECIEVE <3

#ava <3 #i know u are offline rn but i hope everythings going well with u!#i cant believe ur out here validating all my anxieties oof <333

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kickdownthewalls · 5 years ago

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TOP 20 ROCK/METAL ALBUMS OF 2019

Been looking back at the list I made last year and it is hard to say if 2019 was better or not. I feel like, if nothing else, there were fewer let-downs and more out-of-the blue surprises, so I guess that means it was an improvement. For anyone who says there are no good metal albums coming out these days, I say they just need to dig a little. So many great bands have been forming in recent years and started looking back to the origins of metal before death and black metal ruled the world. Since that was the era I grew up in, it isn’t too surprising that a lot of my choices this year hark back to earlier times. Case in point…

20. BEWITCHER - Under the Witching Cross

First up is one of many bands to put a modern spin on a retro sound and this one is even from the PNW (Portland). In this case, the most obvious comparison is early Venom. “Hexenkrieg” even has a chorus like “Acid Queen” and a bridge straight outta “1000 Days in Sodom.” Lyrically, Bewitcher may be even more primitive, with lots of references to Satan, goats, and witching of all sorts. Musically, however, they do show some real diversity and skills, mixing up lightning-fast tunes with slower, pounding metal. No sophomore slump here, thank Satan.

19. INCULTER - Fatal Visions

Norway is starting to establish itself as a home for raw and brutal old-school thrash metal, with the likes of Condor, Deathhammer, and Nekromantheon delivering some wildly OTT albums in recent years. Inculter are a bit newer but really impressed with their debut in 2015 and are back with an even more lethal release in 2019. The riffing is relentless, although the band does do a good job of mixing up the tempos throughout. Still, fast thrash with touches of early Sodom and Sepultura is the core of Inculter’s sound and it is the perfect soundtrack for getting out your aggression here at civilization’s end.

18. MIDNIGHT PRIEST - Aggressive Hauntings

I’ve been following this Portuguese outfit since their debut nearly a decade ago and have seen a solid increase in songwriting and production, along with a solidification of style. Many bands have stolen King Diamond’s sound and style, but Midnight Priest use it as a jumping-off point into a realm of their own. The vocals cover a great range with theatrical lyrics of hauntings, convents, and candles, while the music is firmly in the classic 80s vein with some wildly catchy riffs that remind me as much of Priest and Accept as they do King and Fate.

17. FATAL CURSE - Breaking the Trance

Hailing from the middle of upstate New York, this power trio has more in common with their NWOBHM-loving brethren across the northern border than they do most US bands. Fortunately, they pull it off with the effortlessness only a group of dyed-in-the-wool fans of the music can. Songs like “Can’t Stop the Thunder” and the title track overflow with pure, punchy energy that reminds me of the heyday of Diamond Head and Jaguar. It’s a short but power-packed debut that bodes well for the band’s future.

16. BABYMETAL - Metal Galaxy

Although this might seem out of place, I’ve always had a love for electronic dance music and this is the best combination of metal and dance I’ve heard yet. While the first two Babymetal records had a cool sound, they felt kind of samey and it was hard to really remember any of the individual tracks. Not so here. “Da Da Dance” is pure anime energy, while “Shanti Shanti Shanti” incorporates Indian instrumentation and melodies and “Oh! MAJINAI” can only be called a pirate anthem. Even “PA PA YA!!” with its rap bridge totally rocks. Some folks are turned off by ‘manufactured’ bands like this, which I totally get, but I’m more interested in the results and “Metal Galaxy” is a really solid, diverse album that I’ve come back to many times already.

15. IRON GRIFFIN - Curse of the Sky

Finland is apparently the world’s capitol of metal (most bands per capita) and represents all types well. Iron Griffin is a thoroughly original and enjoyable mix of 70s occult and hard rock, early USPM, and classic epic metal. The production is nice and organic, with each instrument shining through, especially the bass. Vocalist Maija Tiljander can deliver the mellow and screaming parts with equal panache, while all of the instruments are handled by Oskari Räsänen (drummer of the divine Mausoleum Gate). If you enjoyed their EP, this album is 100% better and that is saying something.

14. VIGILANCE - Enter the Endless Abyss

Haven’t heard too many Slovenian heavy metal bands (Hellcats is the only other one I can think of), but Vigilance is quite impressive in both delivery and originality. Their style is a fairly complex mix of classic, speed, and black metal. The riffing is solid, with plenty of Maiden-esque harmonies to be had, while the vocals are gruff in the vein of Amok-era Sentenced. Every song is a bit of a journey, without being overblown, and it makes for a very satisfying album experience.

13. TANITH - In Another Time

After being blown away by their performance at Frost & Fire IV, I was very pleased to see Tanith sign with Metal Blade and release a killer debut. Trying to describe the band’s sound is difficult, as they incorporate a lot of different elements. There is a definite 70s vibe and some early prog-rock influences at work, with complex song structures that thankfully never get self-indulgent. The blending of male and female clean vocals is another highlight and both work remarkably well with the melodic riffs. The bass playing is also worth noting, as it winds its way through each song in perfect counterpoint to whatever the guitar happens to be doing. Bonus points for writing a song about the Cassini probe and its journey to Saturn.

12. ATLANTEAN KODEX - The Course of Empire

When I hear the term ‘epic metal,’ this is exactly what comes to mind. It incorporates the most grandiose elements of bands like Manowar, Bathory, and Solstice, but Atlantean Kodex somehow take it to the next level. This isn’t a collection of catchy songs, it is a weighty opus that you need to sit back and let cascade over you. It has been six years since their last record but you can definitely hear the time was well-spent and great care taken to craft each song just so. Although it doesn’t surpass The White Goddess in grandeur, it is close behind.

11. SUICIDAL ANGELS - Years of Aggression

Greek thrash very much in the vein of the classics from ’88-’90. Solid production, straightforward but great riffing, and a wide range of tempos. There are songs that swing back and forth between fast and slow, some that are mid-tempo throughout, etc. I love that Suicidal Angels sound like they are equally influenced by the Germans and Bay Area thrashers equally, with nods to outliers like Sepultura and Artillery as well. The band tends to sound pretty much the same from album to album, and that is true here as well, but it feels like this is one of the best collection of songs they have put together yet.

10. POUNDER - Uncivilized

Here is another great US band, this time formed by some death metal merchants looking to do something a bit more traditional. Pounder really do a great job covering all the bases and Uncivilized overflows with catchy riffs and melodies, anthemic choruses, and a great deal of diversity. Speed metal like “Red Hot Leather” is followed by a power ballad in the form of the AOR-tinged “Long Time No Love” and both are excellent. Shades of Rainbow permeate tracks like “The Mists of Time” and “Uncivilized.” Early Pretty Maids is a good reference point for the styles covered and the gruff but melodic vocals. Stellar debut and I’m really hoping the band forges on as I think there a great deal of potential here for even better work.

9. TOXIKULL - Cursed and Punished

This one almost slipped under my radar but glad I managed to hear it. This is the stunning sophomore release from Portugal’s Toxikull and is prime power/speed metal with searing vocals and some of the best change-ups and most memorable choruses of the year. Imagine Judas Priest’s Painkiller with more modern production and even more adrenaline and you have a pretty good idea of what to expect. Clocking in at just over a half hour, this is a solid album that never disappoints.

8. DESTRUCTION - Born to Perish

Destruction was never my favorite of the German thrashers but I still enjoyed most of their albums, even if they started to sound pretty much the same shortly after the reunion in 2000. I felt like something was different with this new one, as the opening snare drum assault of the title track got stuck in my head almost immediately. The overall style is still very much modern, thrashy Destruction, but there seems to be a little more melody overall and the songs feel more thought-out and memorable. It is always heartwarming to hear a band releasing one of their strongest albums this far into their career. Now we just need a US tour…

7. MYSTIK - Mystik

Another release that I nearly missed out on is Mystik, who hail from Sweden and pack a real wallop of melodic speed metal with compelling vocals and strong choruses. The production is that perfect balance between pro and underground and gives the music a really timeless feeling. This is another short album that gets to the point and delivers, song after song. The vocals remind me a bit of early Warlock and Acid, while the music has a darker edge and the two complement each other to a T.

6. ROTTING CHRIST - The Heretics

These Greek pioneers have really walked a wide-ranging path over the years, from raw black metal to polished gothic metal, and on into uncharted realms where those elements and more all come together in sublime fashion. There is a truly epic quality to the songs on The Heretics, even with all of the songs being in the 3-5 minute range. Gruff vocals are juxtaposed with clean backing vocals and chanted choruses, with the music covering equally diverse ground. A work of startling, dark beauty and possibly my favorite Rotting Christ record to date.

5. VULTURE - Ghastly Waves & Battered Graves

This is pure German speed metal, with frantic yet melodic riffs, relentless drums, and piercing vocals. Bands like Ranger and Speedtrap brought the sound back to life a few years back and Vulture really take it to the next level. The aggression and rawness is still intact, with nods to early Exodus, but there is a keen sense of melody and strong songwriting that runs throughout the record. Plus, possibly the best album title of the year.

4. AVATARIUM - The Fire I Long For While

I have always enjoyed Avatarium’s records, this is the first time that it feels like the band has really come into its own and produced a remarkable piece of art in the process. The heavy, doomy riffs are still plentiful, but there is a deeper resonance to the melodies and riffs than ever before. The powerful vocals of Jennie-Ann Smith take the center seat, but the increased use of organ and fuzz-heavy guitars and bass really rounds out the sound. The shift from 100% Leif Edling-penned songs to the majority coming from Smith and guitarist Marcus Jidell also no doubt lends to the more unique character of The Fire I Long For (though I must say that “Epitaph of Heroes” would be right at home on Ancient Dreams).

3. DEATH ANGEL - Humanicide

As much as I love many bay area thrash bands, I think Death Angel have secured themselves as my all-time favorite. Their first three albums are timeless and the albums since the reunion have been close behind. The worst thing I can say about any of the records is that they are good but maybe not as memorable as the ones before (notably The Evil Divide and Killing Season). Humanicide is probably my favorite since The Art of Dying, with a wide range of styles, memorable choruses, and the artistic blend of rough and polished that Death Angel does so well.

2. SOILWORK - Verkligheten

It has been a while since I’ve paid that much attention to Soilwork and now I wonder if I’ve been missing out because this album is a monster. The combination of styles here, from melodic death metal with blastbeats to 80s metal to frantic thrash is intoxicating and executed so perfectly, the album just blows right by. “Full Moon Shoals” exemplifies the range perfectly, with one of the best bridges I’ve heard in ages. It feels like Bjorn’s involvement in the retro-minded Night Flight Orchestra has helped to give Soilwork a broader sound as well as a tighter focus on crafting the songs into something more than just a collection of riffs. Even the bonus Underworld EP is consistently strong, while many bands would just toss their throwaway tracks on such a release. For a band’s 11th album, Verkligheten is not just above average but near the top of the band’s best works, period.

1. SACRED REICH - Awakening

Sacred Reich was one of the brightest stars of the late 80s thrash wave, with a strong debut and a timeless follow-up, but, like so many others, they lost their way in the 90s and eventually disbanded. Although it took the band 23 years to finally get their comeback record out, damn, it was totally worth the wait. Everything that I love about Sacred Reich is here: speedy riffs mixed with chugging mosh parts, a hypnotic rhythm section, Phil’s one-of-a-kind vocal assault, and every song a winner. Even “Death Valley,” which I didn’t care much for on first spin, has grown on me with its groovy, stoner vibe. The timing couldn’t be more perfect for Sacred Reich’s heartfelt, socially-conscious lyrics, too, and Awakening is hopefully just that: the dawn of a whole new era for OD and tha Reich!

There may not have been any big-name releases this year, but the underground came through with a ton of brilliant new releases. Narrowing down my list to 20 was more difficult than ever this year and I’d like to mention several other bands that nearly made the list: ALCEST, ANGEL WITCH, APHRODITE, BARBARIAN, CALYX, CRYPT SERMON, DEMON HEAD, EXCUSE, HAUNT, HELLISH GRAVE, KRYPTOS, LUCIFERA, METAL INQUISITOR, ROCK GODDESS, SANHEDRIN, SCREAMER, SMOULDER, and SPIRIT ADRIFT. Definitely check out any and all of these albums, preferably on Bandcamp where you can also buy them.

With so many smaller and retro-minded bands hitting the scene this year, there were also plenty of demos, EPs and 7” singles. Among the best: BEASTMAKER, CIRITH UNGOL DENIAL OF GOD, GALAXY, HAUNT, MIDNIGHT DICE, MIDNIGHT SPELL, SHADOW WARRIOR, SOLICITOR, SOURCE, THE NIGHT ETERNAL, TYRANN, and VISIGOTH. GALAXY in particular has the potential to really be something special and I can’t wait for their next release.

Will 2020 top this year? Hard to say, but there are plenty of promising releases on the way from SODOM, HELLOWEEN, DELAIN, NIGHTWISH, DARK ANGEL, and LUCIFER. Maybe MEGADETH will surprise us with a worthy comeback, too, you never know. It will be a chaotic year for the world, no doubt, so we are going to need some good, solid metal releases to help us cope. Horns up!

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lovehugsandcandy · 5 years ago

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The Times I Tried to Love You (RoD)

A/N: RoDAW is amazing. This week is amazing. I can’t believe all of the fantastic content that was made and I love you all so much—you inspire me!

Pairing: Gen, Kaneko-focused

Length: 1840 words

Rating: PG-13 (Canon-compliant character death, swearing)

Summary: Kaneko knows that love is a verb, not a noun.

“Again.”

“Daaaad.” Colt was shivering, his tiny body shaking in the breeze. He had long lost his baby fat but had yet to grow into himself, still gangly-limbed, with knees that knocked together as he shifted his weight from side-to-side. His lips were starting to turn blue, but he would be fine; his body could handle one more jump.

“Again.”

“Come on Dad, it’s too dark.” He wasn’t yet old enough to be rid of childhood fears; though he never spoke about it, Teppei saw the way that his eyes peered out, into the trees, the water, still wary. These fears would only hold him back.

“Don’t make me repeat it.”

Colt’s eyes darkened and he opened his mouth, impertinent remark on the tip of his tongue before he thought better of it, begrudgingly turning to the cliff. He shot one last look back and for a moment, Teppei thought he could see his own darkness shining through the eyes of his son. Then, Colt was off, sprinting and then flying through the air.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Four-and a splash.

He didn’t even scream that time. Good.

Teppei waited, lighting another cigar as he watched the moon crawl up the night sky.

Colt would need this. He would need to learn to conquer his fears, be silent in the face of danger, crush any and all weakness before it became a life-threatening flaw that could end him.

He would understand someday.

Finally, Colt emerged from the cliff, the sea dripping from his hair, palms rubbing harsh warmth into his arms. Teppei watched his son, his heir, as he stubbed out the last of his cigar, watched his small body trudge across the grass, exhausted and worn. Colt looked up at him when he got closer, the flame in his eyes growing brighter. Good.

“Again.”

ii.

Teppei shut the door to the office; it wasn’t enough to completely muffle the noise from the repair work going on outside, but it was something.

The crew knew that he liked to take lunch alone in his office. It had been something of a ritual the last few months, slowly becoming an established habit that no one dared break. He sat at his desk, sipping his green tea, and waited.

He didn’t need to wait long. 11:55 am. Five minutes early. The phone lit up milliseconds before it rang, sharp light and shrill noise loud in the office. Teppei waited. Another sip. Another ring. A third. A fourth.

He thought, while he waited. Wondered idly why the call came early today; was the traffic lighter than normal, making the 3.4 mile drive from the high school to his home faster? Was he still at school, calling before heading to yet another detention after yet another fist fight? Had he played hooky and was calling from the road, motorcycle heading west before his mother caught on?

He could still hear that day unfolding, 82 days ago, could hear echoes of the slam of the door, the screaming. He heard it when he slept, when he was awake. “I fucking hate you.”

Teppei blinked as the voicemail alert sounded and grabbed his phone with a tired sigh. Rubbing his eyes, he pressed the button.

“You have one new message. You have 80 saved messages.”

Teppei shut his eyes.

“You fucking prick, pick up the phone.” It was quiet in the background. Colt must be at home. His mother would still be at work so he would have the run of the house. “I wanna come back to LA. I fucking hate it here and-”

Teppei had to take a deep breath as Colt’s voice caught. The messages when he was alone were always the worst, anger and hatred and hurt spilling violently over the phone line.

“I fucking hate it here and I’m coming back and I don’t give a shit about anything you have to say about it.”

A door slammed. He was probably in his room now; Teppei could picture him flopping on his bed, phone clutched in a death-grip as he cursed through the snarl on his face.

“Will you just pick up the phone?”

Teppei waited. The pause was longer this time, Colt fuming, thousands of miles away.

“I fucking hate you.”

iii.

Teppei raised an eyebrow. It had been a long time since someone tried to intimidate him. “Absolutely not.”

“I think we can come to an agreement.”

“We are not your puppets. I said no.”

He turned to go, to get out of this alley, away from this demon, but a bitter laugh stopped him. “I think you’ll be singing a different tune when you see this, old man.”

Teppei looked over his shoulder; the man had a piece of paper dangling from two fingers, waving it teasingly in an outstretched hand. It was a photograph, a small picture, and Teppei’s breath caught. Was that…?

He stepped closer, eyes narrowing, squinting to see. It was taken from across a busy street, lens pointing into a coffee shop, the photo’s subject oblivious to the intrusion on his privacy. He understood the implication immediately.

He almost reached for it, hungry to see how he had grown in two years. Even in the dark, he could tell Colt’s shoulders were broader, hunched over a textbook. Were those dark circles under his eyes or just shadows, tricks of the light?

Teppei swallowed, jaw tensing, as the man stuffed the photo back into his pocket. “You think we can’t get to him?” He leered, breath sour in Teppei’s face, bill of the Badgers hat casting his eyes in darkness. “You think moving him across the country was enough to keep us away, to keep him safe? Newsflash, friend: he’s not safe anywhere.”

Teppei stared, unflinching. He was a man of calculations, of odds. The calculations here were not in his favor. The Brotherhood knew how to manipulate the situation by targeting the one thing he would defy any odds to protect, to save.

“One job. Just one.”

The man smiled, clapping Teppei’s shoulder with a meaty hand. “That’s all we ask.”

iv.

The door opened suddenly but Teppei didn’t move, didn’t look up. He knew Colt was here, had heard the “where’s the old man?” amid the normal jawing and scuffle of the teenagers in the shop.

He didn’t look up when Colt shut the door behind him, eyes focused on the paper in front of him. He could hear the chair legs squeak as Colt sat and then had to stifle a snarl as Colt dropped his feet on the table, right on top the ledger he was looking at.

Finally, Teppei raised his eyes, taking in his boy, now a man, broad-shouldered and long-limbed. “What are you doing in LA?” More importantly, when was he leaving?

“Hello to you too, Pop.” Colt reclined in the chair, balancing it on two legs, hands folded behind his head. “Great to see you, really. Glad to see your crew is still bumbling along.”

“What are you doing in LA?”

Colt dropped the chair, sliding his legs to the floor, elbows on his knees. “I’m back.”

“You are in college.”

“It’s Spring Break, I wanted a vacation.”

“Then go to Hawaii.”

“Fuck you.” Colt’s eyes were blazing, the set of his mouth stern. “I’m not leaving. So you can let me back in the crew or I can just camp out here, in the shop.”

“Absolutely not. This is not for you. You’re going back to your mother.”

“Fuck you, I’m not.” He raised his chin. “You can’t boss me around anymore, old man.”

Teppei sighed. Colt was right. He was no longer a minor; he couldn’t just shove him in a car and send him away.

Not to mention, there had already been one threat to his life. If he were in LA, he was in even more danger.

Maybe it would be better to keep him close.

“Here’s the deal.” Teppei paused as Colt cocked his head, listening. “You can help out in the shop for your break. Answer the phone. Minor repairs. That is it.”

“But…”

“That’s it. You will do nothing else.” Teppei stared at him, hard. He had faced tougher men than Colt Kaneko before; unlike those men, Colt stared right back, unflinching.

Apparently, Colt had a good amount of his father in him after all.

Teppei stood and Colt narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m not weak. I deserve a place here, in the crew.”

“I decide that.” With one last glare, Teppei opened the door to the office. “Ahem.” He stepped around Toby, ignoring the futile excuse for eavesdropping, to enter the shop floor, Colt’s petulantly stomping behind him.

“Have a safe ride back to college, buddy.”

Colt glared at Logan, shoulders raised, the two children squaring off. “Guess again. Not getting rid of me that easily.”

Logan’s eyes were incredulous. “He’s sticking around?”

“Colt will help me out at the auto shop over his spring break.” Teppei narrowed his eyes at his son, ice in his voice, then surveyed the crew. “He won’t be involved in anything else. Are we understood?”

Teppei’s eyes cut to his son, his hands balled into fists, arms clenched at his sides. This was a mistake.

“Understood…boss.”

He knew, as soon as he saw the lights flickering at the end of the bridge, he knew how this would end. There was only one way it could end, really; since that fateful day 19 years ago, this ending was predetermined.

The LA River wasn’t wide, but it was wide enough, enough to gather the speed he needed. Kaneko pushed his foot down, pedal to the floor.

“Pop, what are you doing? They have the whole thing closed off!”

It wasn’t wide enough to say the things he needed to say, but it would have to do.

“I told you I couldn’t break free of The Brotherhood alone…but this? This I can do alone.” The Aylesbury picked up speed; he had always loved how this car could fly. Time for one last flight. “I was so obsessed with fighting for my own freedom that I jeopardized yours.”

He could hear the crew, vaguely, but was focused on one voice. “Pop, no! Come back!”

“Promise me one thing, son. You’ll get out of here. You’ll leave this life behind for good.” He tried to picture him, his son, when he was young, as he grew, the moments he remembered and the moments he missed. “You can be anything… Be more than this.”

He unscrewed the NOS, the last thing he could do for his crew. “Stay back. All of you.”

“Pop…please…you can’t leave me.” He could hear the tremor in his son’s voice. His heart ached at the pain but he would rather have his son hurt and free than bound in chains.

“Go, Colt. Go and don’t look back.”

There was always only one way this was ever going to end.

He closed his eyes.

Tags (I am the worst at tags. This is my RoD tag list. LMK if you want me to move you to another): @deimosensblog @alegria1580 @choicesarehard @thefarrari @client-327 @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @hazah@flowerpowell@poeticscolt@brightpinkpeppercorn @zaira-oh-zaira@desiree-0816 @leelee10898 @maxwellsquidsuit @liamzigmichael4ever @octobereighth @omgjasminesimone

#playchoices fanfic #teppei kaneko #choices rod #rodaw #amy writes

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thedistantstorm · 5 years ago

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Keep On Rising (Until The Sky Knows Your Name) 12

A story about how an orphaned Amanda Holliday comes to belong in the Last Safe City and the family she finds along the way.

(Or, the story of how Commander Zavala finds himself responsible for one Amanda Holliday.)

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11

This time: Zavala begins a process. The City’s child-care system begins another.

The day is spent in a flurry of treatments: they make her do these really dumb - but hard - exercises, and they send a doctor to talk to her who asks weird questions. None of that ruins her good mood though. She's achy but not unhappy. She even gets to take a real bath, for the first time in the two plus weeks since she's been in the hospital, and when the nurse helps her back to bed, she gets to sit in the chair Zavala usually uses when he visits. It's a nice change.

Karena is exceptionally happy when she comes by in the afternoon, talking to Amanda about how well she's been doing and how proud she is of the girl's determination. Not that the matron isn't normally supportive, but it's nice to be told those sorts of things. She leaves after supper when Zavala arrives, meeting him in the doorway. Whatever they say to each other misses Amanda's ears.

Not that it matters, Zavala picks her up and balances her on his lap, Shiori transmatting the blanket he's been working on at night over their legs. A skein of yarn appears next, with two silver knitting needles.

"Only a few more rows, and I'll be done with your blanket," He tells her, depositing the remote on the bedside table into her hands.

She looks up at him, both bashful and thrilled. "Fer me?"

He smiles at her and she beams when he nods. "Find us something to watch while I finish it, hmm?"

She picks something educational - she feels like he'd like that, and she doesn't want to seem like a baby who only watches cartoons. In the end, the documentary about songbirds of the EDZ is not nearly as interesting as the methodical way Zavala knits, his eyes on the screen but his hands moving on their own. He pauses when her hands cover his. She looks pointedly at the screen, as if she has no idea how her hands got where they are. He moves them, pressing one hook into each of her palms before replacing his hands over top of them.

Each move is slower with their combined hands, Zavala watching now to make sure they do not make any uneven stitches. “Each row has to be counted so that the number of stitches are even,” He says to her softly, a rumble of sound she feels in her back more so than from the volume of his voice. “Seventeen more and we’ll begin the next.”

He counts each aloud, taking care to make sure the yarn does not get tangled. When he reaches zero, he has her hold the skein. She looks at him dubiously.

"Ya don't need me to help, do ya?"

He raises an eyebrow, she looks up and over her shoulder to see it. "Is it boring?"

She shakes her head, suspecting he's the type of person who can make anything interesting enough. "Jus' seems like you can do it yerself. I'm just slowin' you down."

Shifting the skein of yarn from her hands to his left hip, he hands her the thick needles and covers her hands once more. Casually, he muses, "I don't mind if it takes longer... and a little help would certainly not be remiss. You aren't tired yet, are you?"

"Nah," She hums, fully aware that she'd deny it even if she was, just to be held onto a while longer. "This's relaxin'."

Zavala chuckles. "It is," He agrees. "Our new row has one hundred forty-six stitches. Ready?"

Amanda's errant curls bounce when she nods. He smooths one back from her face as she chirps, "Ready!"

Karena meets him outside the ward as he heads for the Tower in the morning. She hands him a large envelope, tutting gently as he stretches. "You do realize that having a child means you'll have to sleep at some point, right?"

He raises an eyebrow. "I slept for four hours," He informs the motherly woman.

"That chair is hardly comfortable," Karena quips. She would know, spending most of her days in it, herself.

"I assure you I've had worse." His tone errs on indulgent for a moment before switching gears, indicating the file inside the envelope. "What do I need to do?"

"Fill it out completely. They ask that you have a space - a bedroom - for the child, which will be inspected before she's brought into it. Considering her injury you may have to make modifications before she can come home, and with your work, I would suggest some folks you'd trust to watch her, should the board have any questions." Karena regards him with a sharp eye. "Amanda seemed rather fond of 'Miss Eva.'"

He nods, already planning to speak with his friend on the subject.

"But for right now, you'll fill that out and get it to me, I'll get it sent to the board of governors, and the rest should honestly be a formality, once they see your name. You have my blessing, and usually these go without a hitch once you have the principal matron's approval regardless of the adopter’s status."

"Good." He taps the paperwork. "I will have my Ghost send you the digital copy this afternoon, unless you need the physical version? I can make the time."

"Digital is fine." Karena smiles. He may not act like it, but she can tell he’s eager to get the details set in stone. "Did you tell her?"

He shakes his head. "Not until everything is approved. I don't wish to worry her more. I fear she'll obsess about any delays, and she's finally starting to be in better spirits. I would hate for the bureaucracy to bring her down if it takes some time to finalize. Besides, she won’t be able to truly come home with me for some time. I feel like it should be handled delicately.”

Karena can’t keep the grin from her face, even as she shakes her head. She wasn’t wrong in her assessment that he would be an excellent parent. He’s calm, rational, and his willingness to think things through is a huge asset to handling the very unique situation little Amanda is in.

“I’m just thrilled,” She gushes. “I’d been hoping you would come around. I just know in my heart this is what’s best for her. For you both.”

The late morning was always a busy time for new intakes. In fact, considering it was the beginning of the week, the poor secretary would likely be making charts and combing through paperwork for her designated physicians until well after her shift was to end. Usually, though, the children brought in were quiet, surrounded by a large number of caretakers or sedated.

It must have been a full moon because the doors opened to a girl positively screaming, face nearly purple from crying and yelling all at once. “Take me back,” She’s yelling, dissolving into hiccoughing wails. “I don’t wanna be here!”

The woman behind the nurse pushing the stretcher scoffs. “Honey,” She says, in an almost patronizing voice, it’s so sugar-sweet, “There is no reason for a child to be treated at a military hospital. We have our own facilities, and they are far nicer.”

“Please,” The girl begs, looking for anyone who will listen, “I want Matron Karena.” Her voice rises to a fever pitch, shrill enough to make people wince. “Take. Me. Back!”

That seems to do it for the woman behind her. “That’s enough,” She snaps. “You are a ward of this City. Due to your injuries, Karena and your previous home are not equipped to take care of you long-term. Therefore, you are here. You should be grateful. It’s far nicer here than in that wretched home or some stagnant medical bay.”

Turning to the secretary, the woman says, “This is Amanda Holliday. Make her a chart and call for a psychiatrist. The one who contacted me in the first place was wretched, even if he made the right call.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ow! Hey, don’t do that!” One of the nurses jumps back, holding the side of her face. “You shouldn’t hit.”

“Don’t touch me,” Amanda snarls. “Jus’ take me back.”

The woman motions to one of the white-coat wearing staff. “Doctor, get her something for the pain. She looks like she’s hurting.”

“Yer the one who’s gonna be hurtin’ if ya don’t take me back,” She retorts, but the woman grabs her arm with an iron grip, clearly used to dealing with rebellious children.

One of the doctors steps forward, easily ducking the flailing leg she kicks out at him. After all, she only has the one, the other is short and sore and weeping through her bandage - she must have been flailing around more than she thought.

“Keep her still, Matron Gracie.”

She screams when they give her the pain medication, even though it’s pushed through an existing IV line and she never gets poked. The dose is excessive and effective, hitting her bloodstream quickly. Her eyes roll back almost immediately, her arms falling back to her sides atop the gurney.

“Always something exciting around here,” Matron Gracie says, with a toothy smirk. It’s just another day on the job for her, clearly. “Get the kid in her room. Maybe she’ll be a bit more cooperative when she wakes up.”

#destiny fanfiction #shipwright september #amanda holliday #commander zavala #destiny stories #zavala is tower dad #y'all are gonna hate me for this #but you're gonna have to trust me

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fairycosmos · 5 years ago

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i start year 12 tomorrow and i legitimately want to die. on the bright side i got A,A*,A* for chinese, eng and world lit but my parents only care abt math LOL why do i bother

hi lovely :(( first of all wow!! congratulations on the amazing results bro, that's fucking insane. 💘 you should be so proud of yourself, even if your low mood is overwhelming you right now - at least try to acknowledge on a logical level that you did a great job. it's a strong indicator that you will do well in future exams, and the fact that you care about your education to any extent is admirable. it's easy to feel stressed and fucked up inside when the prospect of a new school year looms. fear of 'failure', of change, of the unknown - it all adds up. so take a breath, and let it wash over you. cry if you need to, embrace the confusion, let yourself feel it all without judgment. you cant change your predicament and you're allowed to process negative emotions, as long as you attempt to cope with them in a healthy way. try to break the school year down into small chunks, and take it one day at a time. literally the only real tangible thing is the present moment, it's the only aspect you're fully responsible for. so focus on what you need - support, rest, a break - in the moment that will make you feel truly better. do a bit of self examination - what triggers you, what calms you, what brings you joy? can you strike a healthy balance, or at least attempt to? if it gets to be too much, and you need to talk to someone such as a counselor or a doctor about the anxiety, then you're totally entitled to that. there will always be a self destructive part of you that wants to isolate and be alone, but trust me, it gets you nowhere fast. it's alright to talk about what's going on in your head. there are so many resources and ways to make it feel manageable again. you don't have to believe me right now but trust in the fact that someday you will. look, you are going to live the solutions to all your worries, i promise. but you have to give yourself that chance. and hey, i'm really fuckin sorry your parents are assholes. you deserve better than that. math is notttttt the beginning and end of the world and nor is it the only indicator of intelligence. on top of that, overall your grades are never ever going to dictate your worth or future happiness as a human being. no matter how much that mindset is pushed onto you, you can always make the choice to see it for what it is - bullshit. you're not here on this earth to be of constant capitalistic and academic service, you know? whatever happens with school, you can carve a path out for yourself. there are always options, always ways to find chunks of peace and happiness and success. it's inevitable. ive said this before and i'll say it again, there comes a point when you're growing up where you just realize that your parent's ideology is total crap. and that doesn't mean it's not allowed to hurt. they're your parents, and they should be encouraging you regardless - it's their fault that they're not doing that, not yours. but you can acknowledge that pain and still get on with your own life. you're going to have to disappoint them in some way in order to be happy, we all do. they will have to get a grip and accept it at some point. i know it all feels so intense, and words can't begin to make it better. but this is honestly just a stepping stone, a very early one, in your life. and it is so fleeting. the most frustrating part about sadness is that it convinces you it's a permanent state of mind but that couldn't be further from the truth. whatever this year throws at you, you will be able to handle it one step at a time, through patience and self compassion. and not just thinking about those as concepts, but actually implementing it into your life and prioritising your well being. you've got this dude, i'll be rooting for you!! you didn't make it this far with three A*s for nothing!! let me know if you need a friend or someone to talk to, i'll be here. you're not alone.

#anon #long post

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lavellane · 5 years ago

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5 + 10 for emeraude, 14 + 18 for effie, 19 + 24 for arylene and 30 through 45 for imogen bc i love her so much ? 😏😏😏

fdjkfjkfdk thank u SO much maia i absolutely Treasure You !

EMERAUDE HAWKE - DA2

What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night?

emeraudes fashion sense is probably my favourite out of all my ocs, so uh if u havent looked at her pinterest board yet u should do that bc its Very cute hehehe

anyway for the most part she sticks to dark, practical clothing whenever she's out and about in kirkwall or doing merc work, etc. she picks clothes that convey strength and power, but she likes having a little bit of colour somewhere on the piece, just to keep things interesting. she's not much of an embroider, but was a good way to keep herself distracted during hard times, so she tends to add little patterns here and there whenever she gets the chance!

as for special occasions, for her this would actually just be. a quiet night at home or a relaxed gathering with her friends. bc its so rare for her to have that lmao. anyway for events like that she usually wears light colours and soft fabrics, simple but always decorated with flowers or colourful patterns.

What does your OC keep in a special drawer?

she has a collection of gifts ! that kids from lowtown would give her over the years she spent in kirkwall. she's a very community based person and wants to do right for her city, and shes very nurturing (in an ironical, Cool Big Sister way) so she likes making sure all the kids are safe and being looked after. she gets a lot of trinkets and strange gifts from some of the kids as a result, but she does treasure them (even if she laughs about it with her friends) and keeps them all !

EFFIE RYDER - MEA

Who is the mother and/or father figure in your OC’s life?

effie's maternal rolemodel has always been her late mother, ellen. nobody could really fill that role in her eyes, since they had such a close, positive relationship before she passed. her relationship with her dad was a lot more strained and it really impacted a lot of her relationships later on in life too ! she tends to.... see an older man who is Vaguely Nice to her, and then think “ oh, youre my dad now?” which isnt fair to anybody obviously but yeah she,,,, has a lot of unresolved issues regarding alec and tends to unintentionally project so. We stan !

How many times did your OC move as a child? Which area was his/her favorite?

oh constantly lol. With her dad being an n7 and her mother working so hard on her research, they tended to move around wherever her parents work required. she actually enjoyed it this way. she was never good at making long term friends, but she lived meeting new people, and obviously with the move she got to experience a lot of different cultures which really put the idea of adventuring and travelling in her head at a young age.

ARYLENE TORR - TES IV

What does your OC think of children- either in general or about having them?

she likes them ! she tends to keep her distance with most communities and groups of people in particular, but she does like enjoys having the odd conversation with the odd street urchin here and there, either sharing with them some strange, ridiculous life advice or – if shes feeling particularly chaotic – telling them the scariest stories she can think of. as for having them, arylene isnt AGAINST the idea, but she has far too much for the foreseeable future for that to ever be a good idea

Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates?

outwardly, arylene is an almost unbearably easy going person, so you would assume she doesnt hate anyone lol. but she does DEEEPLY dislike cults and groups of ignorant people who are arrogant enough to start messing with the balance of life, or making deals with gods, etc. she believes that people like that can do an unbelievable amount of damage, so she invests a lot of time and effort it sabotaging any group or plot she happens to find !

IMOGEN FOSTER - RDR2

Did your OC participate in extracurricular activities, and if so, what were they?

hmm idk if this even EXISTED in 19th century london lol, but she would have done some very tame version of girl scouts as a child! She barely remembers any of it, but she liked the classes on what plants did what, which were safe to eat, and the likes. its something that helps her a lot when on the run with the gang, and something shes always had a personal interest in, as a nurse !

other than that, she’s done a lot of independent study on history, classical literature, and she speaks fluent italian we stan !

What is your OC’s opinion of school? What kind of student was s/he?

imogen comes from a very wealthy aristocratic family, so she was very fortunate that her privilege afforded her the education she got at the time. she is VERY grateful to have attended the schools she did, and she made sure to make the most of it, paying attention in class and studying harder than most of her classmates. she's a smart girl with a very active mind, so knowledge is something she can't get enough of. she was actually petitioning the board of education to allow her to attend university before she left for america – already their had been women accepted into universities at that time, but obviously it was still a very scandalous thing lol, especially since imogen wanted to study medicine.

What subjects did your OC excel at?

imogen is a HUGE overachiever and did pretty well at basically everything from science, mathematics, language studies and later on, in her studies as a nurse. i can tell you what shes bad at though lmao

anything physical really dkdkdks she is TERRIBLE at horse-riding since she usually just went by carriage everywhere in the city. art and poetry and writing in general she was never great at, because she's a pretty logical person and was told she never put enough emotion in her work lol !!! sports...obviously was very limited anyway as growing up in like? the early 1870s lol. and as for the traditionally feminine lessons in like ?? sewing and cooking and stuff well ! she was very average at them which made her  feel worse than if she was actually bad bc she's so used to excelling and making a name for herself oof

What subjects interested your OC?

Imogen loves greek literature and mythology !! the iliad is her favourite book and she keeps her heavily annotated, dog eared copy – a gift from her late father – on her person almost constantly. needless to say its why dutch admires her as much as he does lol.

obviously, as a nurse-trying-to-be-a-doctor, she has a great love for medicine in all its forms. she's always been fascinated in natural remedies, and even moreso when she's running with the van der linde gang and is really relying on the land to survive.

What is your OC’s dream job and/or current profession?

hmm okay so. Technically she's a nurse – she worked in her father's hospital for almost 10 years prior to his death, and she was sort of his unofficial understudy, as in she knows a LOT more than her job description requires lol. but after her father past away, another, less progressive man took his place as chief of surgery and made a lot of changes to the way the hospital operated, and imogen was let go. she and her mother were fighting against it, however, under the ground of unfair dismissal, but obviously given the time period it didnt get them very far. so ! i mean technically she's unemployed rn. but she still has dreams of being a doctor, or at least continuing her career in medicine.

How is your OC working towards their dream job and/or achieved their current profession?

Oh VERY direct action up until she got disheartened and chose to take her sabbatical. she had been working in her role for nearly a decade, and was very obviously one of the most experienced nurses there. even younger doctors would sometimes ask her for her medical opinion dksksks anyway what i am saying is Brain Very Good. she had been fighting to gain admission into a university – any, she wasnt picky – to study medicine officially, but it didnt get very far and she put it on hold after her father got sick. after he died and she was laid off, she fought even harder against the city to reinstate her title, and continues to fight after she returns from america a year or so later.

What are your OC’s thoughts/opinions of his/her current profession?

helping people is her entire life, and she wouldn't know what to do without it. she loves being a nurse enough to fight to be a doctor, but also in BEING a nurse, she is hyperaware of all the things current medical standards seem to get wrong, and she has a lot of ideas about how else to go about things. her father, a shockingly progressive and worldly man for the time period, shared her sentiment, but he wasn't able to make the changes he wanted to before he passed, so imogen hopes she can be the change herself, and make her father proud

What is your OC’s biggest dream?

being a licenced doctor, babey ! preferably at her father's hospital, but at the point she will take what she can get.

How does your OC react to and handle stress?

imogen handles stress very well , which is partially why she makes such a good medic, and also how she managed to survive the first week of being with the van der linde gang lmao. she is very good at shutting out EVERY distraction when things get dicey, and her brain tends to move at a million miles an hour. all traces of english etiquette and politeness go out the window, though, so you'll usually catch her barking orders at people, and yelling at anyone who prevents her from doing the work she needs to do. it.....is a big wake up call for people like dutch and micah, and gets her into a LOT of trouble on multiple occasions.

How does your OC handle anger?

ooo......not great. she’s grown up with parents who maybe encouraged her to speak her mind a bit....TOO much given the historical circumstances lol. she really doesn’t stand for ignorance or prejudices in any capacity, and if she has a problem with someone and it gets in the way of her trying to do her work or help others - she will ABSOLUTELY be having words. she also overestimates her own strength quite a lot. she’s tried to throw hands with micah MANY times, often forgetting she’s this tiny 70kg englishwoman and he’s .... Him sdjkdcjkf. she has a big mouth too so she often says snide remarks without even meaning too, which tends to get her in trouble as well. on the bright side, it also helps her fit in with the gang quite well, because for the most part they all appreciate how wild she is lmao

How does your OC handle grief?

hmm i guess it depends on what you would class as “well”? she doesnt cry very often - being stoic and handling your emotions is important when your a nurse - but she does tend to shove her feelings down far longer than she should, and tries to pretend they don’t exist by simply focusing on other things. she also blames herself when a lot of things go wrong, because she’s a perfectionist and wants to FIX everything, so when she finds something - or someone - she can’t save, it feels like a personal failure. like she let them down :(

What is your OC’s greatest fear?

probably being trapped in an unhappy, unfulfilling marriage with someone who undervalues her. she’s not much of a homebody and doesn’t have too much of an interest in being married, but the idea of feeling FORCED to marry someone in order to have a decent quality of life makes her blood run cold oof

What makes your OC happy?

helping people ! meeting new folks ! learning about other cultures and ways of life! learning about NEW THINGS in general ! proving people wrong ! insulting micah !

as tough and high-and-mighty as she sometimes seems, she’s a pretty easy person to please, honestly. treat her with respect, give her space to do the things she wants to do, and don’t get in the way of her opportunities to learn new things, and she’s mostly very happy !

What kind of sense of humor does your OC have?

she has a fairly macabre and sardonic sense of humour, something she picked up from her mother. she says a lot of Shocking things for the time period, and she’s not shy of dirty jokes either. the first time sean heard her, a soft, well spoken english Lady, make some filthy, crude joke, he nearly had a stroke right there on the spot kjkjkfdjkf

What are some things that greatly upset your OC?

senseless violence, suffering or cruelty. she really hated the gang at first and hoped to escape the first chance she got, because all she could see was the crime and disregard for human life she assumed they all held. fortunately, as she got to know them, she realized this wasn’t exactly the case, but she still has a lot of anger in her heart for a few key members of the gang who seem to enjoy bloodshed more than anything. she also hates any form of social prejudice, and people who gatekeep knowledge and opportunities from others.

What are some things that annoy your OC?

i guess all of the above, but she also dislikes misplaced arrogance, and people who talk down to others. she tolerates dutch, but often gets frustrated with the way he speaks, using as many big words as he can to manipulate and confuse others. she believes that really intelligence doesn’t require obscure jargon and big, fancy words - she likes keeping things simple, so everybody can follow along.

#trvelyans #asks #ilysm for asking so many questions gal and sorry for the late reply !#oc: emeraude #oc: effie #oc: arylene #oc: imogen #imogen is my new rdr2 oc in case u couldnt tell djkdsjks #i need to update my ocs page with all my new Babies #also im so sorry for how long and probably messy these replies are #i did Not proofread this in the slightest so. godspeed !!#/ long post

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legisaskerator · 6 years ago

Text

vent vent vent

buckle up bastards this is gonna be long as FUCK

holy fucking shit my life yhas been so goddamn hard recently and i’m not handling it well

first and foremost on my mind at this second is the fact that i am in so much fucking pain right now i do not know what to do. my EDS is acting up really really badly and i’m super bedridden right now. i took my last vicodin and i have no idea when i can get more, or how, and i have like nothing to help. i had to leave class today to weep in the fuckin bathroom because i can barely walk and even sitting up is a struggle. if i felt this sort of pain three years ago i would have likely considered doing something VERY rash to stop it and i’m amazed i’m still, almost functioning. i can barely think i’m in agony i want it to end

i’m so scared this is just the next turn that eds is taking. i know i wont ever get better but fuck, i dont want to need a mobility aid yet. i’m only fucking 22 i have to be a teacher!!! how can i fucking teach if i cant write on a board?? or maneuver around classrooms? how will i ever get a job? or even just. live in the house of my dreams. i wish there was some help for me because i am tired of ehlers danlos running my life. i am scared for my future. i cant imagine who i will become if this level of pain becomes my “normal”. someone move me to mass so i can get legal weed to try to numb myself

on the same path of injury, my mother recently injured herself very badly and was hospitalized for a little w hile. ended up needing surgery to put rods and screws and plates in her leg/ankle, and as a result, she’s not functioning for the next 12 weeks. i’m doing my best to help out aroudn the house and i’m filling in for her at work. she does advertising for a newspaper and brings the papers to subscribing businesses,, which i’m taking over now. at least i like driving?

i love my mom and i will do anythign to help her, but god it’s such a load on my shoulders. i’m upset and frustrated because i’m strugtgling to balance my life around this sudden responsibility. it’s definitely not her i’m upset about, it’s not like she did this purposefully??? she needs the help and i am willing to give it. but i am also allowed to feel these emotions. i am upset at the /situation/. her boyf and my sister are barely helping and they’re neglectful and distant. i’m the only emotionally present one in the family and also (aside from mom) am the only nurturing, caring one in the household. i keep her from having panic attacks, i keep her anxiety down, i’m warm and i try so goddamn hard to make sure shes ok. but it’s exhausting. i’m keeping my family together it feels like, everythings crashing down and i’m the only “sane” one. which is sad because ive been a depressed wreck for weeks and have been working on scraping myself off the fucking pavement, trying to get out of the spiral. i’m scared that my mom relies so much on me. she tells me everything, things i don’t want to hear. relationship troubles primarily. i know i give great advice and am ~wise beyond my years~ (thanks trauma) but, that’s what her therapist is for. i’ve told her i wish she would, tell me less, because as her daughter it’s uncomfortable, and she always overreacts like “oh i’ll never tel you anything again if it’s so terrible then” and i end up feeling fucking awful, and it’s a nightmare. but if things keep going the way they are in their relationship (i’m not gonna spill deets because, privacy still) we might lose our house!!! and everything we’ve finally worked for!!

so i feel like, if i can’t fix this problem, it’ll be my fault our lives come crashing down.

i know that’s ridiculous. it’s not my job.

but it still feels like it

i never feel like i’m doing enough. just in life in general. i’m not good enough i’m not working hard enough i just am not enough. i was very saturated with child prodigy shit when i was younger and that fucked up my psyche so much. it’s still thrown at me by my father, americas got talent and movies where the protag is a ~genius~. i hate it. ill never be that and i know that’s what my dad wants of me. i’m not the next bill gates i just want to be a teacher and live my life!!!! i don’t want to start a band and get famous!!!! i dont want to run a business!! i don’t want to revolutionize the world!! just let me please! follow my heart!!!!!! i can’t fucking stand it when he tries to tell me what to do with my life it makes me want to scream and wail and sjafkl; fd fjasfg;akldf

i can’t do this, man.

i’m so alone. i’m sick of the slut life. i’ve been hoeing around for a year and it’s taking a massive toll on my self esteem and sanity. i’s a terrible coping mechanism and i’m very very not healthy about it. i only have sex when i’m heavily under the influence of something and use it as a way of getting attention, which is, awful. i often forgo protection because it’s ~inconvenient~ and the second a guy protests, i’ll cave because i ~live to please~ and don’t want to start shit. i can’t keep doing this. hooking up is the only time people ever touch me. i just want a fuckign hug sometimes

i keep seeing so many posts like “you can’t love another if you don’t love yoursel!” and “people aren’t your medicine” but what if??? they can be to an extent?? part of being uber depressed is self-isolation and i’m so, sick of it. i need some fucking comfort because right now i am suffering through my life alone and it’s so difficult. it’s not as easy as just, settling though. i’m picky with my lovers because?? i deserve someone good? everyone that’s been coming through my life like, has a fatal flaw that i just can’t do. like long term compatability is risked for me with that shit.like, too introverted, too emotionally distant, people who just aren’t smart, i can’t do it?? i just want someone who’s going to comfort me when i need it, who i can have a healthy debate with, and someone who respects my life choices and things i do.

i’ve been talking to one guy recently who, i was hoping maybe could have been a potential. he’s super nice and considerate/respectful, hes HELLA smart, adores a bunch of the same stuff i’m into, we talk really well together, i feel comfortabgle around him, gotta say he’s hot as fuck too...and he just wants friends with benefits. I respect that. i was in a similar spot literally last semester, there was a pretty great guy but i just wasn’t in the right space for a relationship. so friends with benefits. i don’t blame this new guy for not wanting a relationship he has every right!! but oh god it hurts a little. i worry that it’s me, that i’m just a good pussy for him, or a convenient lay who’s down to clown like 99% of the time. he’s been talking to me less recently and i’m worried that he’s...done with me. idk if that’s true or if i’m just reading into it but i’m in a VERY vulnerable place right now in my life, and i really need someone by my side for it. i need the support and warmth.

i wish my warmth would comfort me. i wish i could turn my nurturing attitude around and help myself. i wish i didn’t need smoene else for comfort. i’m a fuckin libra tho i live for romance

this guys’ great though. i hope he sticks around at least for a little bit longer. i want to learn more bout lovecraft.

my sluttiness is my biggest qualm with myself right now. it’s definitely a huge problem in my life, it’s actively causing me problems. my one friend (because, i have only one fucking friend i can actually talk to. that’s it i hAVE ONE i’m so goddamn l,onely) has been like, coaching me through making better decisions? i’m very impulsive and he’s got great advice and is quick to be like “then don’t” and shit. i’m trying really hard to make sure i dont use him as a therapist though, that’s unfair to him. i’m respectful and all that shit don’t worry bout htat. he’s a huge help to me and has been my absolute rock through college, idk where i’d be without him. he also introduced me to his friend group, who are all really amazing people? they welcomed me with open arms and no ones ever done that before. i’m always super outcasted cause i’m weird and i wont hide it because it’s ME goddamnit! but these people, they’re weird too, they’re freaks and outcasts and, while they’ve all been very close friends since they were wee tots, they still welcomed me in. they still wanted me to be part of them. i’m getting to know all of them still, but i’ve got hope that, maybe i’ve got some lifelong friends now. at the very least, i’m sure i’ve got one.

onto phase 4 of my fuckin monologue i guess, topic SHIFT

my thesis is a mess and it’s due in three weeks, i’ve barely gotten anything done because my teacher is awful and i’m worried i’m gonna fail the course

which would be SUPER bad because, i’ve had this teacher too many times and we do not get along, she loathes my existence, and i really just need to get out. shes partly the reason i need an extra fucking year at school and i always DREAD going to her class. it’s humiliating and discouraging to spend three hours every monday there. no one else likes this professor, they’re only here becuase the school loooooves the researchers and writers. complaints dont matter. all of my other classes are fine but this one has been probably the worst, most emotionally devastating class i’ve ever taken

i don’t even get to write about a topic i want. i was forced to write about the play i was in, instead of Monty Python like i wanted (it’s a fucking comedy class!!!!!) the play is about SCHOOL SHOOTINGS (we won some national awards teehee it’s an outstanding play). yes it’s a “black comedy” but not really? it’s a drama with comedic moments? and i KNOW THIS cause i’ve been studying comedy with this professor for like three cumulative years at this point. i’m struggling beacuse there’s zero research, zero information, and has to be over 20 pages long??? like fuck? i’m so fucked

anyway thanks for coming to my TED talk. i’ve been wanting to make a vent post for like weeks but i haven’t had the time or energy and , i really needed to just....get this out. i feel a little better having all the words down. there’s still so much else going wrong in my life that i could talk about, all the car troubles, my other classes, dorm shit, but, it doesn’t matter in the light of these issues. i can get through this. i just gotta keep fighting.

oh and if anyones like, worried, i’m not suicidal, i’m not going to do that, there’s no chance of that hpapening. i’m in a very bad place but i’m never gonig back there if i can fucking help it

#personal #vent #tw whatever idk sensitive materail or something #i just gotta breathe

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chonideno · 6 years ago

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Hey, deep question, how do you deal with growing up, becoming an adult, handling ppl's expectations and all that kind of crap? Ive graduated last summer, start my 1st real job tomorrow, and i'm a weird mix of completely numb/in denial and freaking out/completely lost and anxious. Idk, maybe you have some magical answer or smth.. Love your work, thank you for sharing them with us

Hey, wow that’s a lot! First of all, congrats on the graduation and the job! And I know the feeling, been there, done that. I don’t know if what I have to say will be right for you, everyone deals with this a bit differently, but here goes:

Take a step back, get some perspective. I know it’s tempting to live the moment very intensely (especially with your first day coming up), but breathe in, take some distance.You’re young. You’re just starting. Whatever stress is coming your way is not going to be the end of you. Think of yourself in a year, think of your end-of-2019 self: they’ll be much different from who you are today, and you have to work through this growth. It might take a toll on you, a lot will happen in a year, but you’ll get there. You’re fine. You’re right where you need to be. it all seems big because you’re right at the start of the journey but it’s okay. None of it will be the end of the world.

Don’t try to be everything at once. I did this, all of my friends did this, and we all crashed and burned so let me save you the trouble. Maybe one day, if you want to, you’ll be that person who wakes up at 6 without an alarm, does meditation and morning yoga, spends thirty minutes learning a foreign language then goes to work for nine hours, then goes to the book club and then to the gym, then to the bar with friends, stays on top of all the art shows in town, takes care of three pets, meal preps, volunteers at the local orphanage, runs a semi-marathon every Sunday and is currently thinking about writing a book. Maybe you’ll be that person. But right now, don’t. Take it one step at a time. If you try everything at once you’ll give up in a week and never try again. I highly encourage you to try new hobbies and cultivate new habits, but do it gradually. All in due time. Let it grow on you. Maybe try to wake up early? You’ll know when you’ll be ready for the yoga. (Talking about yoga, if your job involves lots of sitting, please look into hip stretches they will save your lower back)

About expectations, honestly you have to shrug them off. Figure out what you want, and work on that. If you see yourself in 10 years as a real-estate owner with a spouse and two kids, then work on that. If you want something else, keep your focus on that. Expectations coming from friends and family are hard to deal with but if they don’t fit you, honestly tell them. Make it clear that’s not a mold you’ll fit and that’s that on that. It’s fine, once again. You’re where you need to be. Hopefully you have a good 80 years ahead of you, if you ever fit into one of these molds do you think you’ll stay in there forever anyway? There’s no permanent state of the self babey just do your thing

Don’t be too hard on yourself. Adulting is hard, and like the rest of us you’re going to learn on the job. You won’t be perfect in life, or at your new job from the first day. You’ll make mistakes. You’ll fuck up, because you have so much to balance - the bills, the chores, the social life, the hobbies, it’s all your responsibility now. Once again, breathe, take some distance: you’re fine. The mistakes you make won’t stop the earth from spinning. Figure it out, work through it, watch YouTube tutorials if applicable. One thing at a time. If you have a lot going on, pick one or two things and put the rest in a box until you’re ready to move on. I promise you’ll be doing fine.

For the love of fuck, take care of yourself. Remember to eat, keep your environment clean and healthy, and most importantly, sleep! A good sleeping schedule can save you, I promise you it’s primordial. Take care of your health and body, you’re stuck with those. If you’re like me and you forget to eat when you’re stressed out, go get yourself some multivitamins, they’ll save your butt.

Learn how to cook, learn how to sew basic things back together, keep all your important papers in folders, keep an eye on your finances, ask lots of questions on your first day. What you have a head of you is a lot. But you’ll be fine, I promise!! I was a shaking mess when I was in your shoes and now I’m a functioning adult. It doesn’t mean I have a white picket fence and my life is held together by delicate silk ribbons, it means I know how to roll with the punches now. I figure it out. I know my limits. I know what I want. You’ll get there, I promise. One thing at a time, it’s really the most important thing you need to keep in mind. Slow and steady.

Good luck on your first day!! I’ll be thinking of you tomorrow ♥

#adulthood is a lot!! welcome to the circus!!#no one knows what he fuck they're doing but the most important is to have fun #so go slow #ask for advice #and in doubt: what would morticia addams do?#anonymous #mag answers

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graciecatfamilyband · 6 years ago

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Leia, Princess of Alderaaan Review*

*Really just a mixture of my thoughts/impressions/feelings. Way too long.

Note: So, after almost a year of “defending” certain choices made in Leia, Princess of Alderaan by Claudia Gray, I decided to actually read the darn thing. It might surprise people to hear I hadn’t yet, since in some ways I was a very vocal “supporter.” The truth is, I usually don’t enjoy Star Wars books very much, and prefer whatever I or my fellow fans make up instead, so I was never particularly interested. When the “controversy” hit, I never “defended” it out of any attachment to the book or its author, but out of a belief that most of the storytelling choices that were decried as out-of-character were actually legitimate possibilities for Leia’s history either in this book or in fanfiction stories, regardless of whether or not they were a part of anyone’s personal canon. It was entirely possible that LPOA itself was out-of-character trash. Based on the excerpts and summaries and spoilers I’d read to engage with the criticisms of it, it did not seem to me that it was- but I hadn’t read it, so I couldn’t definitively say. If it were trash, though, the fact that Leia speaks to people her own age or had a boyfriend (also her own age) weren’t to me among the reasons why. And that in particular is what I was so vocal about.

Finally, however, I figured if I was gonna go down in fandom history as one of the people who “supported” LPOA, I might as well actually read it and find out whether or not I actually liked it.

I’m so glad I did. I liked it *immensely.* Far beyond what I would have thought.

Here’s the TL;DR version, and then I’ll post a more detailed gushing review under the cut. Spoilers included.

1. It is as much a political thriller as it was a coming of age novel. Which is exactly my jam. 🙏🏻 I knew every major plot point going into it, and it still somehow left me dying to know what would happen next. Sure, it’s written at a “young adult” level so it’s not incredibly “advanced” as a “political thriller” goes- but it got the job done much better than I thought it could have. (And for a YA political thriller, I think it is actually incredibly advanced.) I had SO MUCH FUN reading it. SO MUCH.

2. It was practically perfect as a “prequel”. It managed to do its own thing without “stepping“ on the original trilogy at all. The backstory for Leia is good, plausible, in-character, and manages to allow her to grow (essential for a coming-of-age novel) while leaving tons of room for the character growth we see in the OT. It inevitably won’t be everyone’s personal backstory for Leia, and that’s okay. But I couldn’t find anything that wasn’t a legitimate, sensible possibility.

3. It captured this stage of Leia’s development so well, which it turns out is something that’s really important to me.

Leia was to me the perfect balance of intelligent/well-educated/innovative/tenacious and still learning the ropes as a political player. Navigating a tyrannical government and wrestling with how to respond in a way that is likely to be effective is something almost every character in this book wrestles with (save characters like Tarkin), and Leia engages with it on a level that is sophisticated even though it’s also age-appropriate. I knew a couple more things than the Leia of this book, but that’s understandable- I am much older than she is in this book, and if she knew everything already, there would be no development, no story, and indeed, there would have been no childhood for her. She is coming out of childhood in this book and learning as much as she can, and it’s just so…. appropriate, believable, wonderful. And she’s no fool; she knows a LOT, she was well and duly educated in her childhood, and she pieces together things very quickly. (I must say, she’s also much braver and more ballsy than I, which is also in-character.)

I also loved the way the book handled the changing attachment/relationship to one’s parents and the anxiety and distress that comes with that (especially when one has had a close relationship to one’s parents) in adolescence. I loved how that resolves as both the young adult and their parents learn to have a new, more adult-to-adult relationship. (It also fit my headcanon of the Organas being a loving and close-knit family, which I deeply enjoyed.)

I love how the book allowed Leia to start building much closer relationships with same-age peers, and that this was both a part of her learning to separate from her parents and define herself (not to become the same as any of her peers but to learn from them and accept certain ideas and reject others) as well as a part of her laying the foundations for the coming civil war (after all, they are going to need as many allies as they can get).

This is probably my favorite thing about it, because I am a nerd interested in and care about adolescent development. I don’t think I’ve ever read a Star Wars book that cared as much about character, character development and growth, and psychological motivations, which is why I enjoyed it so thoroughly, especially as compared to other SW books.

5. I could not recommend it more highly.

Spoiler-y unnecessary ramblings under the cut.

More Things I Loved About It

Leia loves storms. YAS.

We get to see Leia spearheading her first (legitimate) diplomatic missions!!!! And doing things on her own for the first time as an Apprentice Legislator (rather than simply as her father’s intern)!!!! And learning to exercise leadership with people who’ve known her since she was a kid! And fucking up in very understandable ways- ways that don’t infantalize her, but are normal for a young politician learning to navigate her way through this political terrain with limited information, and sometimes in ways that still trip up seasoned politicians because they are literally traps laid by the Empire. We need to see Leia make mistakes in a book like this / in any story of her adolescence, and to learn from them- and they need to be mistakes that don’t take away from her overall competence or character. This book does that very well.

I loved reading about the ways Leia attempted to learn all her parents knew and to help them in their respective positions throughout her childhood. I love that Leia interned for her dad for several years in the Imperial Senate by this point! 😍😍😍 And all the little “her dad always told her”, “her mom always said” moments in this book are just beautiful and very in-character for both Bail and Breha. I love that as Princess of Alderaan and as a member of the Organa family, Leia has always looked to them for guidance on how to rule, who to be, what skills she needs, etc. and worked hard at those things. That all seemed very in-character to me.

I love the familial and parent relationships, period. I’ve already said how much I adored the way this book represented the push-pull of the parent-adolescent relationship, and how much I love that this book nevertheless gives her loving familial relationships as her foundation. It was so wonderful to read these little moments of the Organa family, both when they were struggling and when they were finding more common ground. These relationships were also very “3D” to me, human, what I personally would “ideally” want for Leia without being “too” ideal or unreal. I didn’t know how much I needed to ready more of the Organa family all together until I read this book.

I love that this book was able to make me angry at Bail Organa (my bae 💚)- sometimes quite repeatedly- without making him out-of-character or an ass; that’s not easy to do. It was clear he had his own character struggle work through, and as difficult as that was for me as a Bail fan, it seemed in-character to me, came from a place of deep love, added layers to him, and made the intimate moments between him and Leia and the resolution between them that much more satisfying.

Breha Organa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💜🙏🏻😍🙌🏻👑🙌🏻😍🙏🏻💛💜 What a queen, what a leader, what a mother. I loved watching her differ in her opinions from Bail, and handling some of the differences between them including how to approach the Rebellion, and their daughter. I found it interesting and unexpected that she accepted the reality that the Rebellion would eventually mean civil war sooner than Bail did, but in a way that worked very well.

Bail and Breha’s marriage. It’s so wonderful that they have such a beautiful partnership, in which they can wrestle with difficult questions, and disagree, and even need space from each other, and yet always come back to each other and support each other in their endeavors (and enjoy a bit of romance too). It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted and headcanoned between them.

I thought it might be distracting to me that Bail and Breha and Alderaan might vary in small ways from the ways that I have headcanoned them. For example, the pulmonodes thing is kind of aesthetically cool, and it is nice to see someone in the GFFA with some robotic/mechanical parts who is described as the opposite of evil/ the embodiment of warmth, but is a major departure from how I’ve seen Breha for years, and that kind of thing is always a struggle for me. But it turns out it’s much more difficult for me to engage with when it’s an abstract post on Tumblr. In the book, it didn’t bother me almost at all? It was subtly and well-integrated, and the character was so well-done, that it didn’t matter that’s not how I had seen Breha and is not (as of now) part of my personal headcanon.

Candlewick flowers 🕯🌹 are such a gorgeous addition to the GFFA.

I think it’s great that there was a process for Leia declaring her intention to pursue the throne and at minimum a very challenging ceremonial way she had to earn it, even if it’s not the way I would have chosen.

I’m going to go ahead and say on Alderaan they have basic guaranteed income. 👌🏻

It was so good to see the Captain Antilles of the Tantive IV and spend time on Alderaan itself (sad as it is too 😪). Like so many of the characters, I liked him and I’m incredibly sorry he’s dead within the first few minutes of ANH.

Lieutenant Res Batton is a treasure.

Queen Dalné of Naboo is a character I’d actually love to see appear in later stories (including fics) that occur during the OT or afterward. Do she and Leia meet again? In what context? What is that like??? Although her reign has probably ended by then, Dalné help with the Rebellion in any way or with the rebuilding that comes after the Empire’s fall? I like the way they connected in this book, and I’d love for her and Leia to become friends.

I had mixed feelings about Amilyn Holdo, but I appreciate that the inclusion of a female character who could be a peer to Leia and that she ultimately ended up being an important and foundational relationship both personally and “professionally.” @otterandterrier summed the good qualities of her character up to me nicely, saying, “I do appreciate [Amilyn] becomes closer to Leia, is a person who will inform her to not be set on her first impressions of people, and by TLJ is a long-time friend her age, rather than thinking all her childhood friends died.” Agreed.

Mon Mothma 😍 🙌🏻. This book cemented Mon as a new fave of mine. Great to see her be such a positive and wise mentor to Leia, and to see her be able to see things that her parents (especially Bail) cannot yet.

The cameos worked beautifully without being “too much.” Threepio’s was excellent, but Artoo’s was even better. Also, I was incredibly skeptical at the fact that there was a Millennium Falcon cameo, but it worked just perfectly. They succeeded at making the reader feel clever and “in on” it, which is 👌🏻.

Thank the Alderaanian goddess that the romance was a side-plot and not the focus! 🙌🏻 It was great to see Leia have a book that allowed her to have so many different sides, and that her romance was one of those sides but not the exclusive or even the most important focus. The book could have survived without it, but Leia’s relationship seemed to me to add to the narrative rather than take away from it.

It was such a great first romance, from a writing and story-telling standpoint. It absolutely did not threaten to overshadow the major romance of Leia’s life that most readers are so invested in, which is essential in a prequel story like this, but it was also a good experience for Leia even if it ended so sadly. I really like that the relationship was good and meaningful at the time, but it was also clearly not a relationship with longevity. This post on why Kier works so well as first love is a very good one. I also just really genuinely liked Kier as a character, even if ultimately I disagreed with him and of course don’t want him to end up with Leia “forever.”

The Chalhuddan storyline was 😍😍😍. I loved that they insist that Leia require something of them before accepting her mercy mission donation and calling out her “wealthy saviorism.” I love that she exercises good diplomatic judgment in how she handles that, and that it ultimately turns into the beginning of a potentially lasting political alliance between her and them. Again, I just love the political elements of this book in general, and this was 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻. I’d love to see them again in fic or wherever.

I had a list of things that I did not like. I’ve already spoken about some of these in other posts. But honestly, this book gets so much vitriol hurled at it, and I loved it so much, that I just don’t want to include those things at this time.

#leia princess of alderaan #leia princess of alderaan is a fucking treasure #leia organa #bail organa #breha organa #the organa family #leia learning how to be a political and rebel badass #leia coming of age #i'd totally love to take asks about this book or chat about it #really sorry for what a mess the format of this post is on mobile #i enjoyed the movie Solo enough as a movie but it was much less satisfying to me as a backstory than LPOA was #like LPOA is much closer to possible 'canon' for me personally than Solo was #honestly thinking of rewriting Human Touch to include Kier

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