#also the way I nearly cried when I discovered a safe working link for so many of these games | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leighistired · 3 years

Text

Out Loud

A Martin character study AO3 Link

“G’night mum, love you.”

“Make sure you put the trash out, don’t want it stinking up the house.”

At 12 it occurs to Martin, he can’t recall the last time his mother said “I love you” to him. She must have. He knows she loves him, so why can’t he remember her saying it? Was it before dad left? It can’t have been that long ago. He knows if he brings it up she’ll just tell him off for being silly so he just decides to not say it unless she says it first. She doesn’t say it.

“Look how nice our neighbor’s garden is,” she says instead. “If only we could have such a nice garden.”

“The neighbors hire a man-” Martin tries to explain. He had just done law maintenance over the weekend; he would have to bring up memory issues next time they saw a doctor.

“Aren’t you happy with how I provide for you?” She snaps. “Ever since your lousy father left us I have done my best even with my health and all you can talk about is getting a bloody gardener.”

“Sorry, mum,” he says. It’s better not to argue when she gets like this.

“Forget it. Just get me my tea.”

He goes and brews her a cup of Oolong tea. It’s far too bitter for his tastes but it’s all he buys when he does the shopping. Perhaps that was it, instead of saying she loved him she just provided for him.

Martin tells himself that until she gets too sick to work and begins needling him to get a job at 14. Suddenly he’s providing for her on top of school and everything else but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. She was just sick and the medication she was on made her tired most of the time so it wasn’t like he could expect her to be excited to see him; especially not when he’s the one bringing it to her.

“Is soup the only thing you buy?” She asks one evening when he brings her dinner.

“You didn’t have soup last night,” he reminds her patiently after a long day of school and work.

“Oh, so you think I’m ungrateful? I am your mother! I gave birth to you! You should be happy to take care of me!”

“It would be nice if you acted like a mum for once!” Martin snaps back. He regrets it as soon as he says it and doesn’t wait to hear her response. He leaves the house and sits in the park near his house for a long time and cries. Of course she loves him. It must be so hard on her to be stuck at home all day with no one to talk to and there he went snapping at her. She’s asleep by the time he comes home and neither of them mentions it in the morning.

Martin doesn’t know what he expects when he starts to transition. He hadn’t even called it a transition at first, he just likes how he looks with short hair, baggy clothes, and a sports bra. His mother disagrees. There are days she won’t even look at him and when she does it’s usually even worse.

“You cut your hair again,” she mentions one morning over breakfast. “Just when you were starting to look like a girl.”

“Yup,” Martin replies tight-lipped. He had been thinking it over for a while and he’s slowly coming to terms with the fact that he isn’t a girl. The way she says it hits him sharply. If she was never going to say “I love you” to a daughter, why would she say it to a son? He doesn’t bother coming out to her properly because he can already see the disgust on her face when he gets a proper binder.

When she decides to move into a full-time care facility, it’s almost a relief. He feels foolish for expecting her to say it when she leaves. He feels even more foolish when he says it in goodbye. The receptionist gives him a sympathetic look when she doesn’t say it back but the receptionist probably assumes his mother has memory issues and forgot who he was. She doesn’t. Still, he appreciates the gesture.

Dating is nearly impossible for most of his life. It’s easiest to blame his busy schedule; he doesn’t even have time for friends outside of school. The fact that no one even asks him out isn’t something he wants to think about. After he drops out of school and his mother leaves, dating and friendship don’t get any easier. He can’t let anyone he works with get close enough or they’ll find out his real age and utter lack of qualifications. Online dating is also out of the question for similar reasons. If one of his coworkers saw him with the age 19 in his profile they would either know he wasn’t actually 25 or they would think he was a creep and he didn’t exactly feel comfortable lying about his age to potential dates. Meeting people organically isn’t the worst thing in the world but it’s difficult. He makes a few passing friends at a local trans support group but even then, he can’t get close to anyone without risking someone discovering his falsified CV.

He doesn’t have his first real boyfriend until he’s 23 years old. They meet at a Holloween party thrown by a mutual acquaintance and date for almost five months before Martin ruins it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dominick, I love you,” Martin says as he serves dinner.

“Oh, uh, it’s a little fast to say that, don’t you think?” Dominick had stammered awkwardly. Was it? It didn’t seem like it to Martin and even if it was, it was true. He loved Dominick.

“I-I don’t think so,” Martin replies nervously. Some distant part of himself starts to berate him for being so needy.

“It kind of is. Let’s just pretend you never said it and we’ll see how we feel in a few more months, ok?”

“You mean we’ll see how you feel,” Martin says a little bitterly.

“Why can’t you just relax and enjoy the holiday?”

Martin had sighed in resignation and picked at the rest of his plate. They broke up a week later because Dominick felt like they were “looking for different things.”

Martin doesn’t have another serious boyfriend after that. He goes on a few more dates over the years but nothing that lasts longer than five months. Nothing that lasts long enough to say “I love you.” In some deep dark part of him, he wonders if he was ever meant for love. His father hadn’t loved him enough to stay, his mother hadn’t said she loved him in over a decade, and he’s not even sure he was in love with Dominick. He gets crushes, sure, but he just throws himself into his work at the Magnus Institute instead.

Working in the library isn’t bad. He gets along with his coworkers well enough but he can never get close to them. Not close enough to love them as friends or be loved in return.

Then he gets transferred to the Archives.

Jonathan Sims is not the first asshole boss Martin has ever had. He doesn’t understand why Mr. Bouchard sent him down to work in the Archive in the first place and his first impression with his new boss is less than stellar when a dog follows him into the building. It doesn’t help that Jon is good-looking and every once in a while Martin catches glimpses of a version of the Archivist without a stick up his ass. Like when he spends Martin’s ice cream birthday talking about emulsifiers. If only he would be clearer about what he actually wants from Martin. No report or follow-up seems to be good enough, even with the help of Tim and Sasha.

Martin works hard for Jon’s approval. He doesn’t know why he wants the recognition but it’s either this or quit and he really, really can’t quit. So he spends three full days looking for every woman named Angela over fifty in Bexley only to be berated for actually talking to one of them and then he offers to look into a case about spiders that clearly upsets Jon only to get trapped in his flat by a zombie worm woman.

When he finally escapes, he takes a few worm corpses with him and he dumps them on Jon’s desk while he’s in the middle of a statement. Let Jon try and disprove that When he gives his own statement he makes special emphasis on reminding Jon how hard he worked to meet his exacting standards. He refuses to be yelled at for this.

Except Jon believes him. More than believes him, in fact. He offers Martin a place to stay. Of course that would be enough to ignite a crush in Martin.

As soon as they get to document storage Martin sits on the cot and begins to cry with exhaustion. He expects Jon to leave but again he surprises him.

“I-it’s alright, Martin,” he says awkwardly as he pats Martin’s shoulder. “You’ll be safe here and I’m certain Elias will respond promptly to my request for extra security.”

“Thanks,” Martin sniffs. He can’t remember the last time he cried in front of another person.

“Would...would you like me to stay until you fall asleep? If- if you think it will help.”

“Oh, er...no...I’ll be fine, thank you. You should be getting home, anyway. It’s Saturday, Jon.”

Martin blacks out as soon as Jon shuts the door to document storage. When he wakes up he finds his crush on Jon stubbornly still in place.

He can’t help himself after that. He starts taking special care of Jon in hopes of encouraging the kind man he saw that night into emerging. At the very least Jon doesn’t yell at him as much and he even thanks Martin for the tea he brings. It’s then that he notices other things about Jon, like how rattled he gets by certain statements and how he’ll often go an entire day without eating or drinking anything unless someone brings him something. That someone being Martin. He also notices how late Jon leaves, if he leaves at all.

It’s on one such night of Jon still being in his office at 11 o’clock that Martin knocks on Jon’s office door.

“Jon?” He calls gently.

“Hzzmt! Martin?” Jon responds, having been startled awake from dozing at his desk. “You should be asleep.”

“And you should be home.”

“I see your point,” Jon sighs. “I’ll finish up here and head home. Unless you need something?”

“Actually….I-I was thinking,” Martin beings. “Since I sort of kicked you off your cot...D’you want to come back to document storage with me? You know, get some sleep?”

“What?”

“Er...forget I-”

“The cot would be rather cramped with both of us,” Jon warns as he gets up from his desk. “If...if you’re sure you want me to join you.”

“Yeah...I thought you had work to do?”

“It can wait until morning, no use keeping you up longer than necessary.”

Martin only half regrets offering to share a bed with his crush. Jon was right, the only way to fit both of them on the cot is for both of them to sleep on their sides (or for Jon to sleep on top of Martin but even the thought has his face burning) and it’s difficult for him to fall asleep with Jon’s back pressed against his. It’s good to hear Jon fall asleep, though, and as time wears on it’s easier for Martin to goad Jon away from work to sleep a few hours.

The more of himself Jon reveals the harder Martin falls for him. Especially after Jon accuses him of being a ghost during the Prentiss attack. Even with the guilt Martin feels every time he looks at Jon mummified in bandages. That was Martin’s fault. If he had just paid more attention then he wouldn’t have lost Jon and Tim in the tunnels. He does everything he can to try and make up for it; despite Jon becoming more and more closed off by the day. Intellectually, Martin knows that Jon has gotten like that with everyone, but something deep down makes Martin feel like it’s his fault Jon’s gotten so cold. It doesn’t help that Jon seems to have gotten friendly with the policewoman investigating the murder of the previous Archivist. Tim even seems to think they’re having an affair which does wonders for Martin’s self-esteem. Jon wouldn’t be the first straight man Martin has ever had a crush on but Martin was pretty sure Jon wasn’t straight. Again, he wonders if he’s done something wrong to push Jon away.

After Jon stumbles out of his office covered in blood claiming to have had an accident with a bread knife Martin finds all the excuse he needs to regularly drag Jon to the canteen to make sure he eats something. The silences during those lunches are hard. They had eaten together before but now Jon wasn’t talking to him. The most Martin could get out of him were a few one-word answers. He tries not to think about how it reminds him of his mum.

“So,” he tries for the millionth time while Jon picks at his sandwich. “Did I tell you what happened while you were at physical therapy the other day?”

Jon doesn’t say anything but he looks up with a gaze that bores into Martin.

“Uh...A little girl came in alone with a statement, she must’ve only been eight years old,” Martin says. Jon looks at him with an expression that almost seems afraid. “Don’t worry, it recorded fine on digital. She walked right down into the Archive, walked up to my desk, and said ‘Excuse me. My name is Beatrice Walker and I’d like to make a statement about a supernatural occurrence.’ She sounded so grown up and she refused to leave until I had recorded her statement. Turns out her dad was using the library for research and she had just wandered off.”

“What was her statement about?” Jon asks to Martin’s surprise.

“Oh, a hamster with mysteriously changing spots.”

“Ah,” Jon replies thoughtfully. “Not much need for follow-up there, I suppose.”

“Not unless you really need me to track down the shop where her parents picked up the new hamster.”

He catches the briefest of smirks from Jon before the conversation dies again.

After that Jon’s coldness and paranoia comes out in the form of a screaming accusation over letters Jon found in the trash. Martin barely manages to make it to the bathroom before he bursts into tears after coming clean about his CV. Tim thankfully doesn’t check on him while he silently curses his taste in men. Jon doesn’t meet his eye for the next week in what he bitterly hopes is guilt. He does seem slightly more willing to talk with Martin at lunch, though.

Then Jon goes missing. After trying to get Martin and Tim to go home early because Jon was feeling under the weather; he disappears. Not before apparently bludgeoning someone with a pipe and isn’t that exactly what he and Tim need to see as soon as they get back from a two-week kidnapping by a spooky door monster?

With Sasha gone, Jon missing, and Melanie King being suddenly hired by Elias, whatever’s left of Martin’s relationship with Tim deteriorates. More so when Martin becomes the only one in the world to believe Jon could be innocent. It’s probably that that makes the police detective “investigating” Jon so actively hostile toward him. Apparently, people say he and Jon are “close” and that probably only means the lunch thing but he wants to imagine it’s something more. Like people are somehow picking up that Jon likes him back.

When Jon comes back to confront Elias it’s all Martin can think to do to fall back on his tea-making. He ducks into Jon’s office with a piping cup of the overly sweet tea he spent months perfecting to Jon’s taste and finds him with his face buried in his one non-bandaged hand.

“Jon?” He calls as gently as he can while he closes the door behind him. “I brought you some tea.”

It’s when Jon looks up that Martin notices the bloody mess down the front of his shirt.

“You’re hurt. Let me go get the first aid-”

“No!” Jon interrupts frantically. “Just...Could you just stay with me for a moment?”

Martin acquiesces and they sit side by side on the sofa in Jon’s office in silence until Jon starts sniffling into his tea. He offers Jon a hug and Jon all but dives into his chest to cry. It’s the saddest most broken thing Martin has ever heard and it’s all he can do not to pull Jon into his lap and curl around him protectively.

“Martin...I-I...I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For everything. For Sasha and Prentiss and...and for the way I treated you. You didn’t….no one deserves that.”

“None of that was your fault and I sort of deserved it. I didn’t actually know what I was doing.”

“You didn’t deserve it,” Jon insists before going back to quietly crying into Martin’s jumper. Martin doesn’t respond. He can’t recall the last time someone’s apologized to him. At least not like that. He’d been told off most of his life for not doing things up to people’s standards. A few people over the years had told him he didn’t deserve it but Jon was the first person to apologize. No wonder Martin was falling in love with him.

Damn it.

Cuddling doesn’t become a regular occurrence for them by any means but Jon begins doing more to seek Martin out after that. They eat lunch together more often and Martin stays up late to talk to Jon while he’s abroad. It drives home how deeply buried into Martin’s heart Jon has become. Especially after he comes back after going missing for a month and has the audacity to joke about being moisturized by a clown mannequin for a month.

He wonders if Jon feels the same way. Sometimes Jon will smile shyly at him, and he can almost believe that Jon would be interested in a relationship if the world wasn’t ending. The last time they speak before the Unknowing they’re in document storage.

“Are you ready?” Jon asks as he shifts nervously.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Martin signs. He heard what happened to Melanie. He knows what’s likely to happen to him. Some small part of him is screaming to just tell Jon his feelings like it’s the climax of an action movie.

“Stay safe,” Jon says.

“Come back,” Martin replies. Jon offers him a hug. It’s no movie kiss but it allows Martin to hold Jon as close as possible. Jon himself is hanging off of Martin’s neck and it feels like a final goodbye.

Then Elias confirms what Martin has always suspected deep down. That his mother never loved him or if there was a time when she did, she stopped when his father left. Even after everything. After he spent years taking care of her. After he had to quit school to care for her. All she ever saw was his father. All his transition did was to remind her further of how much he looked like his father’s son. At least it was worth it. To distract Elias so Melanie could find evidence to arrest him.

Then Peter Lukas shows up and reveals that Elias planned to get arrested. Worse than that, he offers Martin a promotion of sorts.

Then they get the news from Yarmouth. Tim’s body is found in a charred heap, Daisy is missing, and Jon is dead in all but brain activity. At least Basira is physically alive.

Martin spends as much time as he can next to Jon. He’s used to loving someone who can’t love him back. Maybe this is all he’s destined for. Love unrequited. He talks to Jon’s dreaming corpse. Tells him about his day, reads him poetry, even a statement, but nothing draws Jon out of his coma.

Then his mother dies. He barely has the emotional strength to mourn her. Instead, he scatters her ashes and mourns his childhood lost to trying impossibly to earn her love.

After the Flesh attacks, Martin makes a decision. He’ll join Lukas. It’ll probably lead to his death but what did that matter? His mother was gone and didn’t care about him anyway. Tim and Sasha were gone. Jon was basically gone. Basira and Melanie were the only people left that he vaguely cared about and by doing this he could at least protect them.

He visits Jon one last time in the hospital. He’s still covered in wires and his eyes still flit around violently behind his lids as Martin sits down next to him and takes his hand.

“Hey Jon,” he says quietly. “I...This is the last time I’m going to see you...Probably ever. I know, I know old dramatic Martin surely he’s exaggerating. I’m not. The Institute is in danger and...I have a way to keep Melanie and Basira a little safer, so I’m doing it. I just came by one last time to say...Jon, I...I love you. Goodbye.”

He gets up and presses a kiss on a part of Jon’s forehead not covered in wires before leaving. It’s alright that he doesn’t say it back. No one ever says it back to Martin.

When Jon wakes up everything becomes that much harder. Suddenly he had a reason to live and the way Jon pursues him makes him almost believe...No, even completing the thought would be dangerous for all of them. Jon trusts him enough not to be constantly badgering and that makes it worse. When Jon is there the Lonely makes Martin resent his presence and when Jon’s gone Martin resents his absence.

The final, most excruciating pain is when Jon comes after him in the Lonely. He’s excepted his fate in the chilling numbness of the Lonely. Maybe that’s why he says it. The certain, inevitable rejection would be numbed utterly. So he says it.

“I really loved you, you know?”

And Jon looks broken. Even after he rips Peter’s statement from him. Even when he reaches for Martin’s face with hands that seem far too warm and makes him See. Knowing Jon loves him isn’t like “knowing” his mother loves him. Instead of a lie born in Martin’s mind to stamp down the fear of rejection, it’s a reality pouring from Jon’s mind mingled with Jon’s fears of rejection.

Jon’s hands still feel too warm compared to the icy chill of the Lonely as he leads Martin out. Still, he refuses to let go all the way through the tunnels, the Institute, talking to Basira, packing at each other’s flats, and on to the train. The way to Daisy’s safe house feels like a blur and when they finally arrive it’s all Martin can do to remember to take off his binder before collapsing into bed with Jon’s warm arms around him.

He wakes to Jon’s quiet crying. The awful, stifled thing that breaks Martin’s heart.

“Jon,” he whispers.

“Martin? Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I’ll-”

“It’s alright, Jon,” he assures as he swaps their positions so Jon is tucked firmly against him. Jon makes another broken noise and Martin can’t stop himself from crying, too.

“I-I’m here, Martin. You aren’t on your own,” Jon soothes and Martin almost has to laugh. They lay crying and comforting each other until they both fall back asleep.

When they wake up properly they take stock of the safe house’s pantry and make a list of things to pick up in the village after breakfast. Martin gives in to the temptation to buy a new notebook to try and write poetry in. They have enough canned food to survive to the next ice age so they pick up perishable items like milk, bread, butter, and eggs. Jon also picks up fresh peaches and a box of Martin’s preferred tea. It’s easy to pretend like they going on a normal shopping trip as they walk up and down the aisles to check things off their list.

They return to the cabin and settle in. Martin sits on the sofa and tries to write out a poem while Jon tries to read a book from Daisy’s personal collection. After a while, Martin beings to feel Jon’s gaze on him.

“Is there something on my face?” He tries casually as he’s met with an expression he’s never been on the receiving end of.

“I was just thinking about how much I love you,” Jon sighs. Martin can’t stop the noise that comes out of him. All his life trying to earn love and Jon just says it while Martin’s thinking of a synonym for ‘yellow.’

“I-I don’t expect you to reciprocate,” Jon says quickly, his soft expression suddenly turning worried.

“But I do.”

“Oh…Oh!”

“Yeah.”

Jon starts giggling and it’s impossible for Martin not to follow suit until happy tears stream down both of their faces.

#the magnus archives #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jonathan sims #I wrote a fic #this was supposed to be posted on valentines day

153 notes · View notes

suituuup · 3 years

Text

pandemic shenanigans

Chloe discovers TikTok and decides to do a bunch of pranks on her girlfriend

rated: T

word count: 3k

ao3 link

It’s the pandemic’s fault.

Chloe was bored af one day at the start of quarantine, and decided to download TikTok, the app Gen Z has been raving about. Little did she know five minutes on the app could turn into four hours without her being aware and brought procrastination to another level.

She quickly becomes addicted to cute animal videos (duh) and couple pranks. So addicted that the temptation of trying a few on her girlfriend is too great.

i. Did you forget what today was

“Morning,” Beca mumbles, rubbing her eye with the heel of her palm as she shuffles towards the coffee pot. While Chloe’s an early bird, Beca rarely makes it out of bed before ten on the weekends, and Chloe is usually already showered and dressed by the time she does.

She and Beca live in that same studio which they used to share with Amy, until their Australian friend inherited some serious money and moved out.

It’s been really nice to have an actual bed instead of that crappy pull-out couch.

“Good morning,” Chloe chirps, craning her neck to accept the kiss Beca brushes to her lips. Beca slides in the chair across hers, pouring some milk in the bowl Chloe’s set out for her, followed by cereals.

(yes, she’s that weirdo who puts the milk first.)

“What?” Beca pauses with her first spoonful halfway to her mouth, finally noticing Chloe staring at her.

“Did you forget what today was?” She asks with a raised eyebrow, cradling her mug in her hands.

Beca blinks, and Chloe can nearly see the fuck popping up in her brain as panic flashes in her eyes. “Uh, Saturday?”

Chloe purses her lips, both to appear annoyed and to keep her bubbling laughter in. “Beca.”

Beca’s nose scrunches up. “I know, I know, gimme a sec. This is not our anniversary, or your birthday, you’re not working today so there’s nothing important regarding your job,” she lists off, her eyes lighting up a beat later. “Oh! Is it this weekend Aubrey’s coming up?”

“No,” Chloe sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe you forgot.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Beca rushes out, standing up and crossing the distance between them to sit across Chloe’s lap. She kisses her softly, looping her arms around her neck. “I’m sorry. What’s going on today? I promise I’ll make time for it. And I’ll give you a massage tonight to make up for being a bad girlfriend. And we can eat whatever you like.” Smirking mischievously, she adds in a lower tone, “And, I’ll let you do whatever you wanna do to me later.”

Chloe grins, unable to hold it any longer. “Nothing’s going on, babe. I was just messing with you.”

Beca’s jaw falls open as she pulls back, glaring. “Not cool, dude!”

Chloe simply giggles, nuzzling her neck and pressing an apologetic kiss to Beca’s skin. “You’re cute when you’re panicking.”

A huffs puffs free and Beca pouts. “Whatever.”

Chloe tightens her hold around Beca’s waist so she can’t get away. “Can I still do whatever I want to you tonight?”

The whimper that rises from Beca’s throat shoots a chill down her spine. Beca’s cheeks redden and she squirms a little in Chloe’s lap. “Yeah--yes.”

Safe to say Chloe won’t be uploading that video on TikTok. She also won’t tell Beca this was a Tiktok prank, because this turned out to be a lot of fun and she’s got more up her sleeve.

ii. climb on their lap while they’re busy doing something else

Friday nights are Chloe’s favorite. As none of them work during the weekends, it means they get two whole days of quality time with each other. Tonight though, her highly professional girlfriend needs to take care of a few work things to make sure she can spend a stress free weekend, but it’s been hours, and Chloe is kind of craving some attention.

Beca’s working on her laptop while sitting on the couch, and after changing into her PJ’s, Chloe unceremoniously curls up sideways on her lap, looping her arms around her shoulders and resting her forehead against the side of Beca’s neck.

“Oh,” Beca breathes out, setting her computer aside before her arms loosely wrap around Chloe’s body. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Chloe murmurs back, brushing a kiss to Beca’s neck and releasing a soft sigh of contentment.

Beca’s hand runs up and down her thigh as she pushes a kiss to Chloe’s hair. “You alright?”

Chloe hums, forgetting all about her phone propped against one of the shelves capturing the moment to make a TikTok, instead basking in the instant comfort being in Beca’s arms provides.

Beca peppers her face with soft, featherlight kisses that make Chloe warm from the inside out. She really is a slut for Beca’s affection. “M’sorry I had to work tonight.”

Chloe smiles. “It’s okay.” She pecks Beca’s lips and brushes her nose against hers. “I’m heading to bed. Don’t work too late, babe.”

Beca nods, winking softly. “Right behind you.”

True to her word, Beca slides under the covers less than five minutes later and tugs Chloe’s body against her own. Chloe releases another happy sigh, which is cut-off by a yelp when Beca runs her freezing toes along Chloe’s bare calf.

“Becs!” She cries, moving away and slapping her arm. “Your feet are freaking icicles!”

Beca snickers like a teenager, seemingly very proud of her act.

“Put some socks on.”

Beca’s nose scrunches up adorably. “Ew. No way.”

“Then stay on your side,” Chloe grumbles, tugging the covers higher around her as she rolls away from Beca, settling on her opposite side.

“Sorry,” Beca whispers into the dark, shuffling closer. “I won’t do it again.”

She feels her resolve break as Beca’s lips trace a trail from her exposed shoulder blade to the side of her neck. She hates her traitorous body for not having any willpower when it comes to Beca’s ministrations. “You better not, or I’ll kick you,” she half-jokes.

“Kinky,” Beca breathes along with a soft laugh, pressing one final kiss to Chloe’s cheek as she drapes her arm around her middle. “I love you.”

Chloe laces their fingers and squeezes. “I love you too, weirdo.”

iii. walking out naked while they’re in a zoom meeting

“Well what doesn’t he like about it?” Beca’s voice carries from the living-room as Chloe stands in their bedroom, a towel wrapped around her naked frame.

That video of her and Beca cuddling on the couch blew up, hitting 3 millions views and about 400k likes. The few homophobic comments that popped up were quickly drowned out by thousands of people gushing over their relationship or crying about wanting the same kind of relationship.

Beca was of course aware Chloe would post that video on the internet and weirdly wasn’t opposed to it.

“Again?” She hears her girlfriend sigh and steps out, losing the towel as she rounds the corner. “I mean, yeah, sure. I’ll see what I--”

Beca’s words die on her tongue the second her eyes flicker up from her computer screen. Her jaw drops and her mouth gapes wordlessly for a few seconds.

Chloe is briefly concerned she might have broken her girlfriend.

“Beca?” Her boss’ voice carries through the speakers, snapping Beca back to her meeting.

“Yes, yeah-- um-- sorry, I…” She stammers as her cheeks burn, and clears her throat. Her eyes quickly glance back to Chloe, who is fighting against a string of giggles. “I’ll-- I’ll work on something else, no problem.”

“Alright, keep me posted.”

Beca nods. “See ya.” She shuts her computer so fast Chloe’s concerned she might have damaged it. “You’re evil,” she mutters, shaking her head.

“Are you complaining?” Chloe husks, strutting over in her birthday suit and tossing her phone on the couch.

Beca visibly swallows, bracing on Chloe’s waist as she settles down her lap. “Never. But next time try not to give me a heart attack?”

“Deal,” Chloe murmurs, bending down to capture Beca’s lips in a searing kiss.

iv. Ask them what they would do if they were at a party and a hot girl came up to them

“Hey Bec?”

“Mm?”

It’s a rainy rainy afternoon, the ones Chloe loves as they don’t have anywhere to be, and she gets to chill on the couch with her favorite person while listening to the rain pelting against the window.

Chloe’s head is on Beca’s lap as she lies on the couch, reading a book while Beca messes around on her phone. Beca has absentmindedly been scratching her scalp, and Chloe was about to fall asleep when she got a prank idea. She discreetly propped up her phone against her mug on the coffee table a minute ago, pressing record.

“What would you do if you were at a party and a hot girl came up to you?”

Beca lowers her phone, peering at Chloe over it. “What do you mean?”

Bending her knees, Chloe shifts to sit up and faces Beca. “What would you do if a hot girl flirted with you?”

“You know I don’t know when people flirt with me, right?”

Yes, Chloe does know. She lost count of how many times she’s flirted with Beca over their four years of friendship pre-getting together without Beca having a freaking clue.

“Okay, but still,” Chloe clears her throat and straightens a bit from her slouched position, tucking her legs underneath her. “Let’s say you’re at a party, and I’m a random girl, not your girlfriend, alright?”

Beca rolls her eyes but nods anyway, setting her phone down and angling her body towards Chloe a bit more.

Chloe props her elbow on the back of the couch and cradles the side of her head in her palm as she smiles softly, getting into character. She reaches out to run the tip of her pointer finger along Beca’s forearm while keeping her gaze locked on hers, her teeth racking over her bottom lip in an over-the-top flirty move. “Hi.”

“Hey you,” Beca murmurs with a small smirk, leaning closer a little. Chloe swats the back of her head. “Ow! What was that for??”

“It’s not me,” she reminds Beca as the brunette rubs the spot with a glare.

“Sorry, it’s just hard to remember that with those eyes of yours,” Beca laughs. “I can’t focus, they’re pulling me in.”

“Aw,” Chloe beams. She leans in to peck Beca’s lips, raising an eyebrow when Beca pushes her away.

“Dude, I’ve got a girlfriend.”

Chloe rolls her eyes, shoving her as Beca laughs. “Touché.”

v. ask them if they still get butterflies

“Bec?”

“Mmm.”

Spring morphed into summer. A hot, sticky and humid summer. The pandemic is still very much a thing, and Chloe can’t even tell you what day of the week it is anymore. To make things worse, their AC is down, which is why they find themselves on the rooftop of their apartment building that evening, laying on a couple blankets as they stare up at the night sky. Chloe misses the hundreds of stars she would gaze at when she was a kid in Oregon, but she sort of finds the steady sound of cars passing by in the street below them soothing.

Or you know, maybe it’s the joint she smoked twenty minutes ago with her girlfriend that is finally hitting her.

“Do you still get butterflies?”

Beca’s head rolls to the side so she can look at her. “Still?” She asks, smirking softly. “They never left.”

Chloe giggles, shoving her lightly. Beca is known to grow sappy and affectionate when she’s high, and Chloe absolutely loves it. “Dork.”

“Felt them just this morning when you were singing in the kitchen while making breakfast and almost pinched myself because I still have to wrap my head around the fact that I get to marry you.”

Chloe does a double-take as she registers Beca’s words. “What?” Her voice is barely there, hidden under the layers of emotions seizing her throat.

“Well… yeah,” Beca shrugs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re like, it for me, you know?”

Moments where Beca splits herself open like that are rare, and they never fail to make Chloe’s heart soar.

“Are you going to say something Beale or keep staring at me like a weirdo?” Beca eventually quips, chuckling softly.

Chloe shakes her head a little, then leans forward to push a lingering kiss against Beca’s lips. “I love you, future wife.”

She feels Beca sigh contentedly as she curls up against her side, her arm wounding around Chloe’s back. “I love you, too.”

vi. sigh loudly in front of them

“What’s wrong?”

It’s day two hundred something of quarantine. Chloe is bored out of her mind.

“Nothing,” she whispers, keeping her tone unconvincing on purpose. She’s lying on the couch while Beca sits at the end working on her computer, a Friends rerun playing low on the TV.

Beca shuts her computer and sets it on the coffee table before crawling up Chloe’s body and settling on top of her. She presses a light kiss to the side of Chloe’s neck. “You sure?”

“Mhm,” Chloe hums, looping her arms around her girlfriend’s waist.

“I can stop working,” Beca suggests softly, placing another kiss to her chin, then to the tip of her nose. “Wanna go grab some Chick-fil-A? Then we can watch one of those cheesy rom coms that you like.”

“M’okay,” Chloe agrees quietly. “Can we just cuddle for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Beca breathes. “Course we can.” She settles her head on Chloe’s chest, lifting it a second later. “Wait, is this a TikTok thing?” Upon Chloe nodding, she groans. “My reputation is taking a blow with each one of those, you know that right?”

A giggle bursts past Chloe’s lips. “I’m sorry, your what?”

That earns her a glare. “Bite me, Beale.”

vii. wipe their kiss away

“I hate this fucking pandemic,” Beca grumbles as she makes it inside, kicking the door shut with a little more force than necessary. “I hate those Karens who don’t wear masks,” she continues as she hoists her two grocery bags on the kitchen counter. “Scratch that, I just hate people in general.” Beca eventually takes off her mask, heaving out a sigh as she drops it onto the counter. “Finally.”

Chloe smiles in amusement, walking over to start putting the groceries away. “Thanks for going out, babe.”

“No problem.” She pecks Chloe’s lips on her way to store the yogurt in the fridge, doing a double-take when Chloe wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Did you just… wipe my kiss away?”

“What? No I didn’t,” Chloe replies innocently.

Beca stares at her, cocking an eyebrow. “Was it not up to your standards or something?”

“I mean…” Chloe shrugs nonchalantly. “It was just a peck.”

“Mmm.” She resumes her task, closing the door to the fridge behind her before making her way over to where Chloe is standing, setting her hands on her hips from behind and coaxing her to turn around.

“What are you--” the rest of her sentence is cut off by a moan as Beca’s lips capture her own. Chloe’s knees wobble from the heat of the kiss, its intensity sending shockwaves throughout her body, all the way down to her toes. She’s left in a daze by the time Beca pulls away, blinking twice in slow succession as she rolls her swollen lips together. “Holy shit.”

Beca puffs out her chest a little, smirking. “That’s better.”

Groceries forgotten, Chloe slides her hand into hers and drags her to the bedroom.

viii. call them your spouse during a phone conversation

“I’m home,” Chloe calls out as she steps inside their studio apartment. She pauses in the doorway, taking in her surroundings.

Their small kitchen table is beautifully set, two candles lit on each side and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers sitting in the center. Soft acoustic music is playing through Beca’s portable speaker. “Hey, you.”

“What’s all this?” Chloe asks, smiling brightly as she slings her purse off her shoulder, setting it down.

Beca approaches, a sheepish smile spreading across her features. “Well… because of this freaking pandemic, we haven’t been out in months, so I thought we could just do a home-date. I ordered from your favorite sushi place, should be here any minute.”

“Aww.” Shrugging off her jacket, Chloe steps up to place a soft kiss to Beca’s lips. “You’re sweet. And very sexy,” she adds with an eyebrow waggle, taking in Beca’s fancy jumpsuit and hairdo. “I’m gonna go change real quick.”

Chloe hurries to the bedroom and opens her closet to pick something; she can’t remember the last time she wore a dress, her main outfit having consisted of a hoodie and sweatpants for the better part of the year. Plucking her navy blue, knee length dress out, she changes into it and takes ten minutes to arrange her hair and put on light make-up.

Beca is on the phone as she steps back out into the kitchen, grinning when Chloe appears. “Yep, got it. Listen, I gotta go, my wife and I are about to eat dinner.”

Chloe freezes mid-step, her heart stuttering as she registers the term Beca used.

“Sorry about that,” Beca says once she’s hung up, casting Chloe a smile as she sets her phone down.

“You just called me your wife,” Chloe murmurs, her eyes shrinking suspiciously a beat later. A gasp follows when it hits her. “Wait, are you TikTok pranking me??” Her gaze quickly sweeps the room. “Where’s the camera, Mitchell?”

Beca simply grins, shaking her head as she reaches for something in her pocket. “Not a prank, babe.”

Shocked eyes lifting from the square velvet box nestled in Beca’s palm, Chloe watches as Beca steps closer and lowers herself on one knee. Her heart trips dangerously and she stops breathing altogether. “Bec, you better not be lying.”

The way she seems nervous all of the sudden tells Chloe this is definitely not a prank. “Chloe--”

“Yes,” Chloe croaks out, tears pooling in her eyes as her head bobs up and down in a frantic nod.

Beca’s chuckle comes out strained as she blinks back the moisture in her own eyes. “Dude, let me ask the question at least.”

“Sorry.” Chloe clamps her lips together and squeezes Beca’s hand to wordlessly let her know she may keep going.

“Chloe,” Beca repeats, her voice wavering slightly. “This year has been weird as fuck, and the most challenging one yet, but despite everything, I had a near constant smile on my face because of you. You’re my best friend, and the most beautiful person I know, inside and out.” She sucks in a deep breath through her nose, letting go of Chloe’s hand to open the box. Chloe gasps softly at the sight of a simple, yet elegant oval cut diamond set on a rose gold band. “Will you make me the happiest person on earth by accepting to become my wife?”

“Yes.” She tugs on Beca’s hand, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as soon as she straightens. “I love you so much.”

Beca grins against her mouth, backing away just enough to seek out Chloe’s eyes. “I love you, too.”

As she stands there basking in this new, overwhelming wave of feelings, Chloe decides that 2020 wasn’t that bad, after all.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #chloe beale #beca mitchell

121 notes · View notes

naturedust · 3 years

Text

The Arcana characters during the Covid-19 pandemic: Part 1 (Asra, Julian, Valerius)

hi everyone! i felt really happy whilst writing this. in each set of headcanons, the apprentice lives with that character! i don’t specify if there’s anything romantic or sexual going on between them though. this is VERY detailed, i’m still writing out muriel, nadia, portia, and lucio’s headcanons so they’ll come in part 2 <3 i hope you enjoy!! AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529276/chapters/67324228

Asra

asra hosts weekly magic workshops (covering very very basic magic) with the apprentice over microsoft teams 💻 each workshop has a small fee, with all proceeds going to local vesuvian charities like mask suppliers, and food banks (who he tries to donate extra food to every week) supporting the poorest amongst their population. it was the apprentice who first suggested he do this, on a day he was feeling really afraid in the face of the pandemic.

i think he has days when he feels really helpless and trapped – and it runs a little deeper than cabin fever and restlessness. other than the pain he’d experience if he lost the apprentice again, being unable to do things freely is the worst situation he can think of... as much as asra prioritises the apprentice’s mental health, he doesn’t practice emotional expression a lot. he truly strives to be there for the apprentice and even when he remembers how they suffered after coming back...asra only cries silently at night when they are asleep – when he knows they can’t hear him.

that’s part of the reason why he’s always seemed so mysterious in the game — growing up without his parents meant that he learnt to push down his fear and put on a brave face... and one of the reasons why he goes on trips without much explanation is to escape reality for a bit. he lets his vulnerability show only on the worst of days (like the day the apprentice died). on days where asra feels really afraid of the world and defeated, the apprentice takes over his shop duties and brews much more lapsang souchong than usual to comfort him. so much that even passerbys outside the shop are caught in the smokiness of it! unlike the red plague, every community in the world is affected, and there is nowhere for asra to escape to. this includes nopal. after vesuvia’s Covid-19 situation gets better though, he and the apprentice stay there sometimes as a mini vacation of sorts and it brings him peace 🏜

asra’s leading an effort to make high quality masks more accessible to vesuvians. in fact, that local mask provider i mentioned earlier is his initiative. he set it up after seeing people buy all the beaked plague doctor masks (the PPE of vesuvia) that actual working doctors need access to. he would never admit it but, when asra thinks about the doctors, julian is the first who comes to mind. anyways, the masks asra designs are stunning. he spends tireless nights testing their 3-ply efficacy, and they aren’t just plain blue or white – there are intricate details imprinted on them through his magic 🔮

i think asra would also be really into coming up with new herbal concoctions for customers, after he notices how tired people look from being indoors all day – for example, he’s developed an immune system-boosting drink that’s a gorgeous swirly purple colour 🍶 it’s similar to traditional chinese medicine. also he only uses ethically sourced, 100% local herbs (by local, i mean from nopal and the tarske forest, where muriel helps him collect wildflowers and herbs!!) 🌿 he uses spells to counter the toxicity of his favourite belladonna flower and it becomes a superfood staple of his concoctions

he goes out every couple of days just to gather herbs and ingredients for aforementioned concoctions, always prioritising the ones he makes for the apprentice and always making those sweeter, taking more time to create colourful depths in them that resemble galaxies. asra also makes particular effort to bring back a wide range of fruits from his local trips as it always cheers the apprentice up 🍈

asra invents the most effective, affordable, environmentally-friendly, non-toxic and skin-friendly hand sanitiser and because this magician is the sweetest person ever and cares much more about people’s lives than making a profit during the pandemic, he shares the recipe online for free & magicians all around the world recreate the hand sanitiser for their local neighbourhoods. he’s since been featured in a couple of “Top 10 People You Should Follow” lists in business magazines and there’s an online petition with over 200k signatures calling for his nobel prize nomination lol. asra insists he doesn’t care about fame but when the apprentice laughs about these recognitions, they always notice asra’s eyes crinkling

asra would also become a lot more active on his youtube channel. that’s right, he’s always had a youtube channel, he’s just had a million hiatuses because of all his adventures. he has around 20,000 subscribers (and a similar amount on instagram...his feed is colourful and full of pictures depicting his travels, the shop, and above all, the apprentice). since he’s decided to stay at the shop with the apprentice – who is actually a little more vulnerable than others to viruses, because of their “reborn” form – he has the time to post weekly videos again. i think asra wouldn’t want to show his face in any of the videos, and not on his instagram either... and it’s got nothing to do with his self-esteem – he just wants the focus to be on what he’s doing rather than how he looks. the videos vary from very domestic vlogs with titles like “what two magicians do in a day” to packed af guides like “🐍 SPELLS TO REFINE AT HOME 🐍” & “crystals that can calm you during these times” and his wildly popular “carving crystals i mined: in real time” ⏳ the apprentice is a permanent fixture in all of them <3 viewers always assume they’re together and whether they are or not...that’s for you to think about ;)

asra is big on healing crystals and gemstones. like really, really big on them. he always makes sure to inform his customers and audiences that they are alternatives and not substitutes, and that sicknesses need real medicine & they can’t just wear a crystal in place of a mask (bc that’s happened before and he felt so guilty for carving and selling the crystal in question) what’s strange is, even though he usually sources his crystals from other countries during his travels, there seem to more than ever all around the shop and the apartment upstairs..

when the apprentice asks about it, it turns out that asra goes mining alone in nopal! he doesn’t really like to mine the actual desert as he’s only ever dug up gold and silver there. one time, he accidentally stumbled upon a cave at the edge of nopal and – ever the curious wandering magician – he ventured deep within it and found amazing crystals and gemstones everywhere 💎 he never mentioned it to the apprentice because he always thought it was too dangerous for them to go, until they remind him it’s dangerous for him too. from that day onwards they go looking for crystals every weekend together :’)

if asra was living alone, he would be fine with just wearing a mask to go outside. but since he lives with the apprentice – and especially after what happened during the red plague – he’s not risking ANYTHING. he wears aviator goggles and eco-vinyl gloves when he’s in the market, just to be extra safe, though when he’s out foraging he takes off his mask because there’s usually no one else there & it’s way too humid. the apprentice likes to make fun of how steampunk he looks & the way the big goggles make his hair extra poofy 🤍

Julian

julian is on the frontlines of the vesuvian pandemic response. with his experience as a doctor – specifically, a frontline doctor during the red plague who discovered the cure (!!!) – he is revered by new doctors and nurses, most of whom are volunteers. when the pandemic first begins, there aren’t formal hospitals or medical schools set up in vesuvia, so he has to make do by reopening his clinic in the centre city, as an alternative to valdemar’s one in the palace – which, quite frankly is the stuff of nightmares for most of the population

as you know, julian is universally loved by the vesuvian people... so the waiting list of the hospital branch he works at is ALWAYS full. patients always report how gentle and attentive he is and how comforted they feel in his presence. even though he has to wear a hazmat suit and the plague doctor beak mask, he is known for visiting the most severely affect Covid-19 patients and holding their hands in their last moments.

the apprentice brings different flowers to put inside his beak mask every day (this is a headcanon that i’m pretty sure originated from the writer telanaris on AO3!!) to give julian some small comfort amongst all the death and suffering he’s witness to every day. they go out to the tarske forest or even to nopal with asra, or sometimes alone. because julian mentioned wolfsbane was his favourite flower once, the apprentice picked some without knowing that they’re poisonous. long story short, they blacked out and woke up in his clinic with an extremely worried julian nearly in tears launching into a self-blame monologue, about to black out himself from staying by their side the whole night

i also think julian would be featured in the news a lot and sometimes pretty randomly. he gives official weekly Covid-19 updates on the main vesuvian tv news channel – though the apprentice stands in for him after the first two weeks (he tries very hard to refuse their help because he doesn’t want to burden them, even though they assure him they actually want to relieve him of at least one of his burdens since he’s a full-time pandemic doctor – and because he almost fainted from exhaustion the second time. the apprentice kindly, but sternly asks him to take care of himself too, as he does everyone else)

he would just be on the news in general too...his random acts of kindness would go viral on social media – “Vesuvian Doctor Helps Elderly In Race for Toilet Paper.” ❤️ “Local Doctor Delivers Groceries for Struggling Families.” and his “grandmothers” in nevivon always get excited when they see him on the news and send letters to congratulate him (much to his embarrassment). julian would also go viral on twitter. one photo of him has 100k retweets: “oh my fcking god i just rounded the corner and there’s this really fucking t a l l man handing out free bottles of sanitiser. i don’t need to see him under his plague beak to know he’s hot af HELP” and the apprentice would retweet it saying “so proud of my bf” and the internet would go wild over this comment. it’s up to you to decide if they’re actually together or not hehe bc who knows the apprentice might’ve meant best friend 🤷🏻‍♀️

he sets up a youtube channel with no profile picture or description to upload a single video... “How to PROPERLY use hand sanitiser!” and all the comments are just about his looks and voice 😚 it reaches cities outside of vesuvia and because the hand sanitiser in the video is locally made (by asra!) it quickly becomes sold out by either those who don’t know how to do magic or people without access to the products being replicated by other magicians... because a lot of them actually marked up the price :( + even communities that are afraid of magic buy it because asra’s detailed method and julian’s instructive marketing combined are that effective. a power couple... in another life, perhaps 💫

julian would then be invited to do a city-sponsored video guide on how to wash your hands (the idea is helmed by nadia, of course, who recognises the usefulness of his newfound fame). not only would he be extremely exhausted from full-day shifts, he’d also be overthinking to the point of hyperventilation before filming starts – but he surprises the apprentice with how professional and clear he is in the videos. a true thespian at heart, instead of happy birthday, he improvises on set and sings an old tune from nevivon instead as he washes his hands for 20 seconds 🌊 lemme just say...his hands also go viral lol. also, julian could be a tik tok star if he wanted to. he’s certainly got the moves for it, and can easily achieve the e-boy vibe – plus, he’s gone viral on there several times already!

even though julian doesn’t seem to care when he’s in danger, he’s very meticulous when it comes to the apprentice’s safety. living through his second pandemic and working with patients first hand means that he is very aware of how severe the situation is. every morning he prepares a 99:1 water:bleach ratio spray to spray his shoes when he comes home. he refuses to even touch the apprentice (for fear of passing on anything from the clinic) before he’s taken off his mask, thrown it away safely – then showering and washing his hair thoroughly.

having grown up in nevivon, i like to think that julian is really environmentally conscious, especially with regards to the sea. he used to go diving in the sea to retrieve trash, and as a young man he made a habit of going to the docks every weekend to remove plastic containers and wires from around the necks of salt seals 🌫. so, no matter how tired he is, when he comes home to the apprentice, julian never forgets to snip the ear loops of his surgical masks in half, as he knows sea creatures can get caught up in them. i’m sure he makes a second youtube video at some point to talk about this issue. tldr julian is an environmental activist <3

Valerius

so it’s been a long while since valerius was freed from you-know-who. his personality has definitely changed a lot since then... he’s back to his old and real self (which we never really saw in the game) 🌄 he works side by side with nadia now, not only as colleagues but also genuine friends, and he oversees the health department. he sets up dozens of hospitals and more general clinics in and out of vesuvia, consulting experienced doctors in vesuvia like julian as well as officials from neighbouring countries and states. as a side note, valerius is actually a very humble person and the most attentive listener you will ever meet. people from neighbouring governments & royal households admire him immensely as a result <3

out of everyone, i think valerius would be the most careful during the pandemic. during the red plague he witnessed lucio’s illness up close and it’s had a profound impact on him. he worries about the apprentice, a lot. more than anyone who knows him expects him to. he’s always the first to notice and remind them if their mask is falling down their nose, or if they’re about to rub their eyes with unwashed hands. you will never catch him forgetting to wear a mask or touching his face at all when he’s outside. he takes the time to use disinfectant wipes to clean everything he brings back home one by one, and though valerius is adamant it’s not the apprentice’s responsibility (because most of the things are usually files from the palace he has to go through before the next morning or things he brings back from the market) the apprentice always insists they want to help out :’) so it becomes a nice daily evening ritual, sitting together on the floor after returning from the palace, cleaning their things in silence together 💜

speaking of things he buys, valerius loves the marketplace. he discovers it one day by accident when looking for a bouquet of 🌹 red roses 🌹 to bring back for the apprentice, who was particularly upset that day after helping valerius out at the new hospitals and not being able to help any of the patients as much as they would have liked with their magic. when valerius stumbles across the marketplace, he is absolutely amazed by the colours and smells that surround him. he spends a lot of his free time and lunch hours looking through jewellery stalls – especially hairpins and hair sticks.

anyone looking at him would be able to see how much care valerius puts into maintaining his hair. because he washes his hair every day (to avoid bringing any Covid-19 related germs into bed), and because being free from you-know-who has made him a lot more open to magic... not to mention because he actually lives with the apprentice now 💜 i think valerius would also consult asra about magical hair masks and conditioners, to keep his very long and thick hair healthy and soft, despite washing it every day.

he knows from accidentally overhearing asra a long time ago that the apprentice loves pumpkin bread, so he asks around for hours until he finally finds the baker’s stall 🍞 it takes hours because valerius is really bad with directions and gets lost a few times... it doesn’t help that he’s distracted by all the different foods and jewellery that he’s never seen before (he picks up a nice ring for the apprentice, and yes he’s so attentive and familiar with jewellery that he guesses their ring band size correctly). from that day onwards, once or twice a week, he wakes up a little earlier than usual to sneak out of his estate and buy the bread, so that the apprentice can enjoy it – freshly made, warm, and their favourite – for breakfast 🥣

yes, he has an estate (this mr. darcy-like headcanon is from jane_ways on AO3!!) and he treats his household employees very well, offering paid leave for all of them so that they can stay with their own families. in their absence, he proves to be an incredible cook, albeit a little rusty because he hasn’t cooked anything substantial since being under you-know-who’s influence and because he’s been too busy at the palace to eat anything that isn’t catered.

due to social distancing, the apprentice and him eat in a lot more – valerius is very ambitious and soon moves past making homemade dishes... he cooks blown out, elaborate dinners and prepares creative and (visually) beautiful packed lunches to bring to work 🍴 whenever the apprentice has to work late he brings them dinners inspired by the colours of the shop that day – he is hesitant to admit it, at first, but he’s always admired the crystals there, and he is often inspired by them in his food presentations. asra is ever perceptive and gifts him a few (polished amethyst because he used to be an insomniac, black tourmaline and selenite to keep you-know-who at bay 💎) soon after the apprentice frees him from the curse

i really see valerius as someone who against all expectations is really into hands-on work like welding and carving – things that can get messy. he’s slowly trying to get rid of it, but since he first started working at the palace he’s maintained a very prim and posh appearance. he really loves to weld jewellery like rings and earrings. before the pandemic began, he took a few classes in the marketplace – classes which are on hiatus now, of course. he's set up a little studio in his estate and wears a blacksmith’s apron and goggles and everything. it’s honestly quite the sight. whenever the apprentice is working longer hours at the shop making potions with asra, he goes into the studio to continue his projects. some of the ones he’s proudest of are: the pure-silver wine rack, the gold headbands and rings he makes for himself – and then for the apprentice too when they keep “borrowing” his – and his favourite of all is his first ever project: the cast iron skillet that took him over a week to weld. he hand engraved the apprentice and his initials onto its handle <3 you don't need to read any of this as a romantic gesture, because friends can definitely do the same!

i like to think that prakra managed the pandemic especially well, and that valerius sits down to have zoom calls with queen nasrin to discuss ways the two places can collaborate and help each other 👑 she becomes his mentor of sorts, as he’s still relatively young and inexperienced when it comes to governing a city-state like vesuvia. when nasrin visited nadia before at the palace, she was not a fan of valerius at all and was just as wary of him as nadia was. however she becomes very fond of him as a result of their collaboration, and even starts to see him as a son ❕ other than the apprentice, nasrin would be the second person valerius talks the most freely with. initially he is very reluctant to share anything about his life, let alone his past before landing the consul job – but he eventually opens up and nasrin plays a role in helping him move past his failures (his eyes are opened after the apprentice frees him, and he feels immense shame from how he didn’t lead vesuvia very successfully in nadia’s absence)

133 notes · View notes

sheepfulsheepyardinspace · 4 years

Note

Do you have any Star Wars fanfic recommendations, or have a link to someone else's list? I really wanna veg out.

oh my god, DO I. this may have been the best ask in the world. i’m not really sure what u want a feel for, so i threw together some of my favorite longfics for maximum veg time from the ot/pt and links for swr and swtcw recs. they’re pretty much all luke-anakin/vader centric, since that’s kinda my bread and butter.

let’s start with frodogenic, who wrote the first longfic i ever read in sw and might be one of the funniest authors ever. they once reviewed my fanfic & i nearly cried from joy. anyway.

The Father, 284k+, complete. “Ten years after ROTS, tormenting nightmares of his unborn child drive Darth Vader to extraordinary measures with unexpectedly drastic consequences. Clearly, experience has taught Darth Vader nothing...”

this is my og star wars fic and boy oh boy is it amazing. i will never get over this. i don’t want to spoil anything but when i say the final chapters are great? i mean they’re legendary. sometimes i still think about them & wish upon a star that i could be such a great writer. vader’s amazing, han is spectacular, and the ocs are fantastic.

Far More Than Rubies, 70k+, complete. “Nine years after AOTC, tragedy revisits the Lars Homestead. Little Luke Skywalker is suddenly plunged into chaos as the rebel movements discover a secret military project that may make a crucial difference in the war with the Empire.”

the spiritual twin of The Father, FMTR takes a look at padmé’s character and relationship with both luke and anakin/vader that’s hard to beat. it’s darker and heavier than The Father, but it hits those same sweet, sweet emotional beats while raising the age-old question: if padmé had lived, what would she have done?

The Family Tree, 12k, complete. “In which Luke Skywalker is stranded in a tree waiting for a flash flood to recede. Too bad he's got company...”

okay, i admit, this isn’t a longfic, but it is a longshot, and it’s amazing. the imagery and description always blow me away, and the interaction (canon-compliant) between luke and vader just [chef’s kiss] get me. vader’s in full, glorious form, and it makes it all the harder when luke wrestles with the knowledge that vader is his father.

Sibling Revelry, 25k, complete. “After Bespin and before Endor, Darth Vader is shocked to discover that Luke and Leia are twins. He's even more shocked when Imperial Intelligence reports that Organa and Skywalker are, erm, a tad closer than previously suspected.”

this is complete crack and humor in the best way possible. it’s crack treated entirely seriously, and you will be in stitches, i promise. no matter how many times i’ve read this i break down.

KittandChips (@kittandchips) writes what i can only describe as food for the soul. the luke-vader interaction is insanely amazing, the world building of daily imperial life and imperial governance is amazing, and vader just has a special je ne sais quoi that u must read to understand––tragic, funny, and so, so fatherly. they’re currently rewriting the Force Bond Series to fit in with newer canon, so i will joyously binge reread the entire again (including the new Force Bond: Mustafar Weekend).

Force Bond 1: Orphan, 47k, complete. “After Owen and Beru are killed by a mysterious stranger, young Luke ends up as an orphan on Coruscant. It's a race against time as Obi-Wan struggles to find Luke before Vader realizes the boy is his son.”

Orphan kicks off the series, which tracks vader and luke’s relationship through the perils of luke’s teenagerhood while growing up under the eye of the emperor and imperial court. it’s filled with slow growth, struggle and misunderstandings as darth vader tries to single parent, and pay off in every installment. the entire series clocks in around 777k+ and is the most joyful, fulfilling reading you’ll ever have. promise.

darth-nickels (@darth--nickels) writes darker, twistier, and terribly, terribly heartwrenching aus. they’ve got a whole host, but let me introduce to my two favorites. also, check out their faux-academia on vader. it’s amazing and i love it, but i admit i am an academia hoe.

Dooku Captured, Pt 2, 16k, complete. “Dooku is taken alive onboard the Invisible Hand, and Sidious' web is torn. The Sith Lord wonders if death might have been preferable to clumsy interrogation by Anakin Skywalker.”

Dooku Captured is a longshot au told from Dooku’s pov which takes the beginning of ROTS and throws it on its head. it’s a fascinating outside perspective of anakin and obi-wan’s relationship and such and interesting examination of dooku’s psyche and especially his complex relationship with the jedi order, qui-gon, yoda, and palpatine. i cannot rec this one enough.

Black Mirror, 90k, incomplete. “The Ghost crew returns to the Lothal when they hear the Empire is investigating the Jedi Temple there. They learn Vader is alone and decide to take him out-- but what they find could change the course of Galactic history.”

Black Mirror diverges into swr territory, but make no mistake: this is entirely an examination of vader and, later, obi-wan as well as ahsoka. luke makes his appearance later in the game, and boy oh boy will you love luke’s portrayal is a microcosm of luke and vader’s relationship within canon. heed the tags, though.

jerseydevious ( @jerseydevious ) is, first and foremost, one of my favorite people on earth. secondly, though, she’s an amazing writer with a deep understanding of vader’s character and psyche, a flair for beautiful depictions, and the true ability to wring every emotion out of your body.

Two and a Half Men (with a baby), 13k, incomplete. “After a long day of bargaining with Hutts and attempting to ignore his past, Darth Vader is nearing the end of his rope. When he discovers his two-year-old son, it's the straw that breaks the semi-rational Sith Lord's back; in a rash act worthy of the Skywalker name, he scoops his son into his arms, steals a shuttle from his own fleet, and punches in random hyperspace coordinates to a destination on the other side of the galaxy. Unfortunately, father and son are not the only ones on the ship.”

Two and a Half Men will stick with you, dude. like no other. i promise. it’s a whirlwind ride with obi-wan, vader, and piett and as funny as it is heartbreaking. it touches on some heavy issues and doesn’t shy away from looking at the damage done to vader––again, heed the tags.

Helioseismology, 4k, complete. “Luke gets shot down on a supply run and caught in an ice storm. It's extremely lucky that his father followed him there.“

i’ll admit. im completely biased about this one because it was a birthday gift to me and i am sucker for litcherally anything when jd puts pen to paper, but believe me when i say you will be awed by the depth and tangled relationships between these luke and vader that jersey can illustrate in a stroke of the paintbrush. im love. always.

izzythehutt ( @izzythehutt ) i am blown away by the intricate dialogue and characterization, always. and the latin puns? im sold. im also a sucker for latin puns, but that’s a story for a different time.

In Loco Pirates, 34k, complete. “A down-on-his-luck Hondo Ohnaka manages to capture the unicorn of all bounties--Luke Skywalker, which sends Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, on a painfully familiar trip to the planet Florrum to collect his prize. The failed negotiations leave Vader in the awkward position of being stuck in a besieged pirate bunker, trying to balance keeping his wayward child safe (and in his custody) with controlling the tongue of a loose-lipped pirate who--to the surprise of no one--has a bad habit of telling 'amusing' anecdotes from the Clone Wars.”

hondo, aka the best character of swtcw, is brought to life just as vividly on paper as on screen. his entire personality brings luke and vader’s difficulties in a sort of incredulous light, which makes it as funny as it is vulnerable and tragic. the sequel, Palpatine Ad Portas, brings piett into the spotlight, and oh man do his interactions with palpatine and vader bring u all the uncomfortable vibes. relish in it.

sparklight ( @littlesparklight ) man. lemme introduce u to an amazing prolific and detailed writer. i will never get over the series they’ve written & neither will u.

Where Our Intrepid Hero Doesn’t Get Away, 122k, incomplete. “One-shots surrounding either AU situations of canon/legends works where Luke would normally have gotten away (or Vader is simply inserted into the action to come pick his child up) but in these instances doesn't, or completely new scenarios of the same. There are no deep ruminations on consequences of the situations here, just our awful Sith dad picking his son up when he'd rather not be.”

exactly what it says on the tin. u know those glorious moments of fanfic where luke’s gotten captured and ur on pins and needles, waiting for vader to show up in a moment of dark glory? here’s the moment. here’s all the moments.

Space Race, 122k, incomplete. “Owen gives in to Luke's wish to attend the Imperial Academy and Obi-Wan is too late to avert it, though he's not too late to make sure Luke leaves Arkanis before Vader can gets his hands on him. Luke spends over a month running around the galaxy before his father gets him, and from there...”

this story relishes in chase and boy is it fun. it will keep you on the edge of your seat and it’s an amazing ride.

The Suns of Tatooine, 85k, complete. “Luke ends up on a moon swamped in dark side energy after a mission goes wrong, then his father appears... and then they go on a bit of a learning experience. This could've been the only thing that would come of getting through a Sith complex with his father, but thanks to going to free Han earlier than the gang did otherwise, more revelations are had. Will that change anything?”

this series is a thoughtful, contemplative piece examining the nature of the force and the relationship the skywalkers have with tatooine. the descriptions are beautiful, the inventiveness is amazing, and you’ll be thinking about it for long afterwards.

an additional few…

Between Flight and Longing; 34k, complete. “Luke Skywalker and Han Solo journey to the planet Balen'ar on a desperate mission and find more than they'd bargained for.”

a classic and it is for a reason. the interaction between han, luke, and vader is so spectacular and the slow trudge of going through the forest with your greatest enemy and best friend is something hilarious. the end is bittersweet and fantastic.

The Sith Who Brought Life Day, 13k, complete. “An Imperial officer loses a bet and has to get Darth Vader a present for Life Day.”

somewhere between terrifying and dull, this fic presents a canon-compliant look at the hunt for luke and the grinding wheels of the empire. the oc is amazing and it echoes in true star wars spirit: sometimes it’s just some dude who can change the galaxy.

Quintessence, 5k, complete. ‘“Well, Master, I think I’ve found the one positive aspect of this situation.” “Which is?” “The Temple won’t have to pay the costs for our funeral pyres.”’

pure hilarity and shenanigans abound in pre-aotc obi-wan and anakin hijink goodness. lemme tell u––u will deeply sympathize with mace windu afterwards. additionally, check out the rest of the author’s oneshots! they’re deeply thoughtful and the interactions the author writes between obi-wan and anakin are always gold.

some extras & shameless self-promotion

here’s a full list of recommendations for star wars rebels fanfic in case this is what you’re looking for (remember when this used to be a swr blog, lmao)

i’ve also written sw fanfic, both swr and luke-vader centric. drop by and tell me if it’s any good!

#also if anybody knows these authors' tumblr accounts pls lmk so i can link them #guys remember piett?#i miss piett #firmus piett #star wars #star wars fanfic #sw fanfic #sw fic #three two one boom #jerseydevious #luke skywalker #darth vader #anakin skywalker #star wars rebels #late-in-the-day #idk if any of these r new at all to anyone #but they r my faves :)

267 notes · View notes

mage-cat · 4 years

Text

First Steps Home - Plan? What Plan?

The Rebellion sends a team to rescue Glimmer only for the team to discover that they are now part of an escape plan already in motion.

Part 2 of the Mending Bridges series. Start from the beginning here.

Story under the cut. ~1900 words. Link to AO3 through here.

Mara’s ship wasn’t designed to carry a large crew. That meant to when the Rebellion went to rescue Glimmer, it had to be a bare-bones strike team. Bow and Entrapta were the only ones who had any confidence with new tech on the fly, something Prime’s ship was sure to have in abundance, and Adora would be there to lead them.

Bow, who had taken up piloting duties, had been waiting for Adora to let him in on the details of the plan, figuring that something in Adora’s training--either with the Horde or Light Hope--had given her insight into what they needed to do to at least begin the rescue. He began to feel uneasy as the ship announced that they had left Etheria’s atmosphere and he still had no idea what the next step would be after finding Horde Prime’s ship.

“Um, Adora? How does a spaceship sneak up on another spaceship?”

“How much different can it be to little boat sneaking up on a big boat?”

Bow gestured at a relevant display. “We’re using tech to find Horde Prime’s ship. Isn’t it likely that he has tech that can see us the same way?”

A voice came from somewhere embedded in the ship’s controls. “Message incoming. Would you care to answer?”

Adora froze for a moment before responding, “I guess, yes.”

The ship’s largest screen was filled with a pale face, the eyes green from edge to edge. “You must be the delegation we were told to expect. Please, proceed to the docking bay. We will inform Queen Glimmer to meet you. Please, leave all weapons on your ship.” The voice was bland and clearly assumed there could be no other explanation for who they were as the face disappeared from the screen as soon as the last word was uttered.

“Was that Hordak?” Bow asked.

“No,” said Entrapta with certainty. “Hordak’s a clone, but one Horde Prime considered... nonstandard. At a guess, I would say that was an example of a more typical result of the cloning process.”

“I wonder how many of those Prime keeps around,” Adora said.

The com screen began to display a map directing their ship to the mentioned docking bay. As they flew closer, the view of the ever-growing ship began to be overwhelming. Only in space could something be so big and still move.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving our weapons behind,” Bow said.

“They said Glimmer would be there to meet us,” Adora replied. “I’m hoping our luck improves and we’ll be able to just grab her and leave.”

“I don’t think the odds of that are very good,” said Entrapta.

---

Whatever hope they had of the mission being simple died when they saw exactly who was meeting them when they got off the ship. Glimmer was there, and she was standing, back straight in her most regal posture, at Horde Prime’s right hand.

He addressed her while never looking away from the new arrivals. “Queen Glimmer, would you inform me of who I will be dealing with?”

Glimmer’s voice was nearly as bland as the earlier clone’s had been as she said, “Horde Prime, these are Adora, She-Ra of Etheria and Administrator of the technical systems that run throughout the planet, Bow of the Makers’ Guild, and Entrapta of Dryl, two the Etheria’s brightest technical minds. Entrapta is also the eldest of the Etherian royals whose realms have had dealings with the Horde. All of them have held leadership positions equal to my own in the Rebellion.”

He focused on the purple-haired woman. “Would this be the same Entrapta that my wayward clone was so intrigued by?”

“Yes, Horde Prime, the same,” Glimmer answered. Adora motioned towards the ship. Glimmer gave a tiny shake of her head and spoke again. “Sire, I would not presume to tell you what to do, but I will vouch for Entrapta’s good behavior while she is here and advise you that treating her differently from the rest of the delegation might prolong the process they are here for. Might I take them to my quarters for a briefing before we discuss negotiations?”

“You may.”

Glimmer approached the three and held her arms out in front of her. “I suggest we go the quick way.” They all knew what that was a cue for.

---

One teleport later Glimmer’s face broke into a grin. “How was my performance?”

Bow hugged her. “Unnerving!”

“I’ve been getting tutoring in placating megalomaniacs.” After returning the hug for a moment, she stepped back. “He thinks you’re here to negotiate surrender by the way.”

Before any of them could properly react to that, a delighted version of Hordak’s voice came from a gray blur descending from somewhere near the ceiling. “Entrapta!”

“Imp!” Entrapta cried as she caught the creature.

He opened his mouth, releasing a gentle female voice. “You’re safe here.” The voice twisted into sarcasm, causing the faces of the three to shift in recognition. “Prime’s been magnanimous and promised us our privacy”

“Hey, Adora.” The same voice came from a previously unnoticed corner of the room, now attached to its original source. “Bow.” Catra hesitated. “Entrapta.”

Adora began to launch herself at her, but Glimmer’s arm across her chest brought her up short.

“Stop. We would all be dead right now if it wasn’t for Catra.”

“You trust people too easily when you think they’re useful.”

“I trust my truth spells.”

“After everything she’s done?”

“She can help get my mother back. The way things went down with the portal, she knows things no one else does.” Glimmer paused as if considering if she should say the next thing. “While under the truth spell, she also said my dad’s alive.”

Bow and Adora exchanged a meaningful look, and he said, “He was on Beast Island. He’s holding down the fort at Bright Moon now. He and Shadow Weaver have a history, so he’s confined her to her room unless she’s being supervised by at least one person capable of magic.”

“Thank goodness. It saves me the trouble.”

Adora’s face hardened again. “I thought you were enjoying being Shadow Weaver’s new favorite.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten so cozy with her if, instead of vaguely talking about how evil she was, you had given me some concrete examples. You know, like the fact that she had tortured children in front of you!”

“She had tortured you!”

“She didn’t do it for over a decade starting from when I was six!”

“Sparkles,” Catra broke in. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but is this the time?”

Glimmer took a steadying breath. “No, it’s not.” She turned to face Catra properly. “Think we can get the plan to work now?”

“Best chance we’re ever going to get. Entrapta, I am so glad you are alive.”

Entrapta clutched Imp closer. “No thanks to you.”

Catra bit her lip. “I thought you were turning into my enemy, and I panicked. Only an idiot would underestimate you and the damage you could do to someone if you thought you had to. I’m sorry. It would have been smarter for me to try to stay on your good side. I want to hear your theories on some things.”

Her grip on Imp relaxed a fraction. “Your potential data on the portal tech is intriguing...”

“Portal later. I promise. We need your theories on something more pressing.” Catra held out her hand, and a glowing amber orb the size of her fist began to hover above it. “How am I suddenly doing this? Could the Heart be drawing energy from more than just the planet? Could it be pulling magic from the people?”

Entrapta leaned toward the light. “Fascinating. That would explain the metric I couldn’t make sense of.” She looked up at Catra’s face “On Beast Island, there was a First Ones database, including a bunch of profiles for potential colonist species. Biological requirements, potential for dissent against imperial rule if allowed to remain on their home planets, and this one calculation that could have been how effectively they could power the Heart.”

“We know releasing all of the Heart’s energy the way it was designed would be bad, but could we return that energy back to the people?”

“I would have to take a closer look at the Heart, or at least its schematics.”

“Wait,” Adora said. “The Heart is doing what?”

Catra turned to her, the sphere of light disappearing.“Short version. Best that we can tell? Magic should be way more common in the Etherian population than it is. Anyone on the surface gets drained of their power the same way the magic of the planet itself gets collected.”

Glimmer continued. “That’s probably why Mystacor is airborne. The Princesses still have some of our magic because we are connected to the Heart through the Runestones.”

“Just some of your magic?” Entrapta asked.

“Oh yeah.” Glimmer moved her cape to one side. Her wings--which, like Queen Angella’s, were always more like solid energy that matter--still didn’t match the majestic sweep of her mother’s, but she wouldn’t be readily hiding them under a shirt again either. “I have definitely been running at a lower charge than I should have been.”

Catra spoke again. “Alright. We have a plan of action once we get back to the planet. Now to get out of here and over there.”

“Right,” said Glimmer. “Bow, Entrapta, Catra will lead you to do some industrial sabotage and, if we’re lucky, a little theft. Adora, you and I are going to go hit some things very hard. We can talk on the way.”

“Why can’t we just teleport to the ship and leave?” Adora asked.

Catra answered, “We try that and Prime will just use his transporter tech to beam us back here, and he won’t be near as polite afterwards. Hence the sabotage.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t trust any authority higher than my own, and Horde Prime thinks he is the highest authority in the universe.”

“Makes sense to me,” said Entrapta.

Adora glared at the person she had once called her best friend. “I’ll be watching you.”

“Not until Sparkles takes you to the rendezvous point.”

As the shimmer of Glimmer and Adora teleporting away faded, Catra turned to her new teammates. “Alright, first step is to see if we can steal ourselves a clone. Hordak thought conquering a planet would impress Horde Prime, but the only thing Prime is ever impressed with is himself. He doesn’t like his clones being people. As soon as we were on the ship he put Hordak under… I don’t think it was a mindwipe. I think it was a personality suppressor or something. If anyone can wake him up,” she pulled something out of a pocket and pressed it into Entrapta’s hand, “it’s you.” It was the crystal Entrapta had used to power the armor she had made for Hordak. “He was really broken up about it when he thought you had betrayed him. When he found out I had lied about that, he tried very hard to kill me for it. I may not understand what you two have going on, but I understand that it’s important to you two.”

Bow said, “So step one of your plan is...”

The look on Catra’s face said she couldn’t quite believe what she was about to say either. “To save Hordak.”

Next Chapter: Saving Who? >

#she ra #fanfiction #glimmer #catra #adora #bow #entrapta #cat writes

7 notes · View notes

shinydmoon · 4 years

Text

Hey,

Would anyone be interested in an Ask blog for my Persona/DeSu au?

Here’s the basic outline.(first up sorry to all who know Greek, lovecraft, and probably Japanese lore- also apologizes to how ooc many of the characters probably are)

there are the primalter god/deity, The personifications of Time, Fate, Order, Chaos, Infinity and Nothingness. Those being then create others to act as creators and rulers of reality.

Now Nyx is one of those new gods and she ends up with The being of Chaos, Nyarlathotep. They have many children and all that. Now Order and his helpers with help from the rest of the gods(which are called Divines) have made earth and the rest of life and reality.

As the created life gains consciousness they develop Morality. Philoamon on the order/‘kind’ side and Nyarlathotep ruling the Chaos/‘ destructive’ side, to balance this scale Nyx creates Shadows to act as a medium for the created life to decide for themselves.

Now skipping/rushing though till getting to closer to the ‘main plot’. Humanity fabricated many gods, religions, and mythologys, Most of the Divines chose to take the names of figures in those tales when in contact with the humans and other non-‘godly’ beings. Not all the descriptions match the Divine who answer to it and some answers to multiple if they share basically the same role(ex. Nyarlathotep is well Nyarlathotep and also Erebus. Morgan(p5 kitty) answers to Elpis but is male not female.)

the none Primalter Divines choose their own gender..Kinda They are born as a gender but its the gender they answer to and the only Transgender ones to fit would be NB and Fluid, but even those that answer to a binary gender are not locked into it and a number[cough-CoughRyojiCough-cough] like changing it up every once in a while.

There were mutations in Nyx’s shadows that lead to both Demons[Nyarlathotep said yonk] and a group I still have yet to figure out a name for, right now I’m leaning to Fai, sylph, Observing Spirits, or Minor Beings[please help]. The Minor Fai are basically mythological creatures and a great number of Human Gods/deities who are not Divines. [Like Izanami and Izunagi in P4] For Human-Shadow Bonds[add link](end of sped though)

Philimon, not trusting Chaos to remain fair and keep thing in balance, wished to give humans a way to combat Nyarlathotep and Nyx’s Forces. Seeing as some humans had found ways to ally with their shadows He set up the Velvet room and most of what that involved. He did one more thing, a thing that all but he knows was a mistake that nearly caused what Philamon feared. To aid the humans in a more direct way and so that humans who were not able to interact with his velvet room could fight, He gave a select group of humans a Research subject. The newly hatch child of Nyx and Chaos, little tiny Hypnos.

Philamon waited for a time that the rest of Hypnos’ family were not on guard and Grabbed him. When Chaos and Nyx tried to retrieve their child Philamon threatened that if ether attacked him then they would have made the starting move and give him one free action without consequences or retaliation from Chaos. Thus Nyarlathotep and Nyx had to listen as one of their babies cried for them but they couldn’t answer.

Philamon first gave Hypnos to those researchers from Persona 1(I literally know nothing of P1 plot besides Dreams, a dead twin leading to self identity issues, and Nyx is fightable at some point). Nyx tries to rescue Hypnos from there but the events of P1 block her way and Hypnos is move to a temporary location- the area that Persona 2 happens[I know vaguely the plot of both persona 2s], Chaos tries to claim his son there but by the time he located where Hypnos was he had already been moved and Philamon blocked his way, Nyarlathotep enraged does the whole persona 2 Innocent Sin plot and all that.

While p2 was happening Hypnos arrived at his next and Final place of captivity, Iwatodai island under the watch of the Kirijo group and its scientists. Now the Kirijo group gets it in their heads that ‘hey why don’t we get more’/‘ this one has been studied thoroughly already lets get a fresh new one’ so They start torturing Hypnos and Performing many painful experiments while using him as bait for more of his family. The first caught in the net is Philotes(Hamuko) and with two of his siblings taken away and tortured Thanatos decides it’s time to step in.

He manages to get Philotes free and safely back home but is overwhelmed thus needs to turn back before he could get to Hypnos. The rescue was not all for nothing as the mess allowed Hypnos to final escape his container and he quickly runs to a different part of the lab, once he stabilized himself[to the best a baby can do] he disguises himself as a human child. But before he was able to get out of the facility he is discovered by two of the workers, The Yukis(or Arisatos doesn’t really matter) who mistakenly think he’s a run away from the Group that Strega and Sho Minazuki resulted from.

Taking pity on the tiny child they decide to take him home to raise as their own(this decision was in no way influenced by the fact their baby had recently died). Hypnos likes the humans who helped him escape the evil place... atleast until he found out that they were not going to let him leave and were very controlling. This begins the Saga of Hypnos biting, hissing, and wishing to tear apart every single human who breathed in his direction.

Before going on lets jump back a bit to clarify some of Hypnos’ stay with the Kirijo group. 1, he sees/interacts with Aigis(or any of the Anti-Shadow robots). 2, those dusk plums mentioned in P4 ultimate arena are Hypnos’ feathers crystallized into energy form[the plucking of his feathers leads Mint to have a enjoyment for tearing apart the wings of enemies, so if you have Feathered wing do try to not Cross Hypnos or else all you will know is agonizing torture]. 3, he was torn apart then forced back into a solid form with his energy and even parts of himself being taken from him- that’s what leads to him missing one of his eyes.

Nyx having reached her patience and tolerance level orders Thanatos to start preparations for The Fall. About 3 or 4 years after Hypnos escaped/was adopted by the Yukis The Night happens and Thanatos also turn to pieces bring the first Dark Hour.

Now in a feral state Death flees to what they sense is safety, they flee towards Hypnos/Minato. Aigis attacks, Yuki car is blown up, and Aigis seals Death into Minato. Maybe if she had had time to think about it she may have thought about why that hasty action worked. Death and Sleep are twins, Halves of a whole. By placing an incomplete Death into the incompetence Hypnos Their souls were able to repair themselves while also healing the other.

After that night Minato had a friend to be by his side, Pharos(as I have said before Pharos was there from the start). Minato feels complete with Pharos and Pharos feels safe with Minato. With no memories but the deep connection they feel the two take to calling the other brother. Minato spends the next decade being pushed and bounced around till he gets the invitation to attend Gekkoukan High School, seeing as that’s the only place he and Pharos know of that they came from he accepts and a kinda sort of version of Persona 3 happens.

#Hypnos hates Nonfamily au #Ask blog #persona 3 au #persona 3 spoilers #P3 au #P3 au ask blog #Persona au askblog

5 notes · View notes

xxkellsvixen19xx · 5 years

Text

Forget Me Not Jim Mason x Reader 50 First Dates AU Pt 7

@michael-langdon-appreciation

February had given way to May and long-weekend fair and picnic was nearly perfect. Local ranchers and farmers were done enough of the spring planting to take a moment and actually relax. The rest of Palos Verdes that could shut down for part of the day did, and the weather usually cooperated.

It was one of Y/N's favorite community events. Like hibernating animals crawling from their dens to discover the world had become shiny and fresh all over again. She was more like a bloated balloon than a thin blade of spring grass. The baby was taking up more and more room in the bulkhead that had become her stomach, but her changing body didn’t bother her too much. The kid needed room to grow, yet the timing for her due date meant she wouldn’t be hauling a huge belly around all hot, sweaty summer long.

Or maybe best of all? Jim didn’t seem to mind one bit. He'd been attentive and caring, and oh-my-gawd intensely involved for the last three months.

She'd been surprised when her interest in sex hadn’t decreased as her girth widened, but maybe the nonstop caresses and massages had something to do with that. He'd all but moved in with her. Fixed the damages caused by Rick then they'd both set out to ignore the other man. The restraining order had been a sad but necessary step.

Jim paced beside her, his fingers linked through hers as they strolled the fairgrounds, the scent of buttery popcorn and new-mown grass mixing into a sort of holiday-themed perfume.

"Move over, dude." Medina shoved her way between them, linking her hands over both their elbows. "I take it we won't be attempting any ride records on the Zipper this year, hey, Y/N?"

Oh, lord, no. "I can only imagine what that would do to the kid. If you want to challenge your stomach, sweet-talk someone else into riding with you."

Medina squeezed her arm. "Perfect. That's what I hoped you'd say." She stepped forward, boldly tugging Jim with her. "Hey."

He resisted her takeover. "Not me."

Y/N laughed. "Go on if you want to. I'll wander for a bit."

"Nope. I'm here with you,” Jim insisted. His eyes lit with mischief. "Hey, Alex. You still scared of heights?"

Her brother sauntered into view, corndog in one hand, burger in the other. "You smoke something funny over here? I'm not afraid of heights."

"Good to hear." Jim darted a quick glance at Y/N. "Then you can take Medina on the Zipper."

Medina dug her fingers into Jim’s side briefly, and Y/N attempted not to laugh out loud. She joined him in the tease, complete seriousness in her voice. "That’s a good idea. I usually ride with her, but this year the poor girl is simply lost without me."

"With friends like you two, who needs enemies?" Medina muttered. Then she turned her bright smile on Viserys. "So, whad'ya say? Shall we go flip ourselves around and show the teenagers how it's done?"

Alex gave them a dirty look before gesturing Medina ahead of him toward the fair rides set up in the corner of the grounds. Y/N and Jim managed to wait until the other two were out of hearing range before bursting into laughter. "That was sheer brilliance," Y/N praised him.

Jim caught her fingers in his. “Alex likes her. I don't know what his problem is."

“Medina's a bit ...exuberant at times. Bet they'll figure it out eventually." Y/N got sidetracked by the sight of an art display. "Come on, I want to look closer at this." One of the locals who had an art studio had displays of her work set up on easels, and Y/N slipped in closer to chat with Sandy for a while. The other woman had far more experience, with an art show or two under her belt. Y/N loved that there were people she could turn to for help as her new interests continued to grow.

Jim let her go, striding over to the next tent where a group of guys had gathered to shoot the breeze.

Sandy smiled. "Hey, good to see you again. Name is Sandy if you've lost it."

Y/N accepted a brief hug. "You're so lovely. Also, thank you for not saying,‘haven’t you had that baby yet?' People should have to give me a quarter every time they mutter that phrase."

"You're not ready to pop," Sandy teased.

"Four weeks left." Y/N admired the painting in front of her, with two cowboys sitting easily on the backs of their horses. "Your work is amazing."

The woman grinned harder. "I have great inspiration." They both turned without a word to stare across the yard. Y/N took a moment to admire Sandy’s men, Rolando and Jack, but her gaze moved quickly to Jim. "I'll say. I think I need to suggest another practice session of nude sketches. To work on my anatomy lines."

Sandy chuckled. "Dirty girl. I knew I liked you for a reason." They exchanged smiles then visited for a bit longer before Y/N wandered off. Jim was still busy talking to his friends, so she waited outside the cookhouse and chatted with the ladies there. Familiar faces-at times names eluded her, but her problem didn't bother her nearly so much anymore.

The people who mattered knew how to help her, and the people who didn't know, she got around. Life had changed a lot since the previous fall. The kid rolling awkwardly inside her was only part of it as elbows or knees dug into her bladder at the most inopportune moments.

It was bigger things. She was more confident than she used to be. More determined to do what was right for her and the baby. More in tune with the man who had come into her life in a powerful way.

HE WATCHED HER. All the time Jim laughed and joked with his friends, he kept an eye on Y/N. Loving the moments where she smiled in response to a comment, her entire face shining with happiness and joy. He got to see her like that more often these days, and her enthusiasm thrilled him.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder. "You're obsessed with my sister," Chad poked.

"Not even going to deny it."

Chad grumbled. "No fun to tease you anymore. You're all Y/N all the time."

"Tease Adrian instead," Danny suggested. "He's got a cop on his tail. One more ticket, bro, and she’s going to impound your bike and slap your ass in jail for a couple nights."

Adrian didn't answer, just eyed Eli as she strolled through the crowd patrolling the fairgrounds, her uniform far more wrinkled than usual. Jim wondered briefly if something was going on he wasn't aware of.

He'd been so focused on Y/N and his conversation that he almost missed it. A familiar face popped out briefly from behind the corner of the cookhouse. "Was that Rick?" he snapped.

Chad twirled. "Where? He's not supposed to be anywhere near Y/N."

There was no one there. "I'm seeing things," Jim mumbled. Only he still left the tent, glancing around closely. He passed Alex and Medina returning from the rides.

Medina's cheeks flushed from excitement. She slowed as he passed her. "Jim? What's up?"

He ignored her, pacing forward. Fucker. It was Rick, now leaning on the outside of the cookhouse and staring intently at Y/N. The expression on Rick’s face suggested his attention wasn’t a good thing.

"Oh my God, that’s Rick." Medina slapped Jim on the shoulder rapidly a dozen times, her voice shaking as she ran along beside him. "What's he doing here? What's he doing?"

Jim wasn’t going to wait for something bad to happen. He stormed across the clearing between tents, headed straight for the troublemaker. He grabbed Rick by the back of the shirt and jerked him off his feet. "What the hell? You're not welcome here."

Rick scrambled to free himself from Jim's grip, seams shredding as he broke free and stumbled into the crowd. He used the people around him to pull himself upright and whirl toward Jon. "Bastard,” he snarled. "You think you’re so much better than me, but you're the biggest loser here. A liar and a killer, and you don't deserve to be with someone like Y/N."

Jim lifted his fists and widened his stance. Rick wanted a fight? Bring it on. Medina slipped into his peripheral vision, standing well back from them both. "Jim. I called the police and they'll be"

"Police? Why the fuck did you do that for?" Panic streaked across Rick’s face, and he surged forward, only this time toward Y/N, one hand raised threateningly in the air.

“Y/N watch out," Medina shouted.

Jim lost it. He threw himself in front of Y/N as a protective wall, and Rick bounced off him. "Back off," Jim warned.

Rick exploded, punishing Jim with a flurry of fists. He wrapped an arm around Jim and jolted forward, the two of them staggering into the crowd as people screamed and attempted to run away. Y/N cried out, his name escaping her in pained gasp. The sound barreled through him, a terrifying echo from his past when he'd been too late to make a difference.

Jim went numb. Y/N. He had to protect Y/N.

Rick wasn’t supposed to be here, not this close to Y/N, but the man obviously didn't care about the law. Jim ignored the fist smashing against his face, instead pushed forward and did his best to move Rick farther from his target. Pain ignored, the shimmer of stars floating past his eyes ignored. All that mattered was keeping Y/N safe.

Around them people continued to shout, but Jim didn't stop. Didn't stop until he was on the ground, and even then he clutched Rick tightly, refusing to allow the man to escape. He didn’t swing his fists-didn't attack. Just held on and took the assault as he kept Rick away from Y/N.

"Jim, you ass, let him go," Chad shouted from somewhere close by.

The shouting and noise seemed to be dropping, but the adrenaline racing through him kept his grip firm. "No, he'll hurt Y/N."

"No one is going to hurt Y/N." Chad’s big hands pushed down on his shoulders. "Jeez, man. The PVPD are right here. Let him go so they don’t rip off his arms."

Jim relaxed. Rick was lifted off him, rapidly pulled to his feet and away from where Jim remained on the ground.

Chad offered a hand and pulled him upright, bracing him for a moment as everything spun. Jim's eyes wouldn't focus for a minute, and he blinked hard. “Y/N. Where's Y/N?" he demanded.

"Settle down,” Chad ordered. "She’s over there."

Jim whipped his head to check she was okay, nearly falling over he moved so fast. "Thank God, you're safe. You okay?"

Her face had gone white, and her hands were draped protectively around her belly. She nodded, leaning against Medina as her friend pulled her into a hug.

A few feet away Eli stood guarding a handcuffed Rick. Her partner Trace stood beside Jim, while other PVPD worked to calm the crowd. "I’ll be back in a minute." Eli spoke softly.

"Jim, don’t leave before we talk to you, understand?"

Jim nodded, and Eli turned to lead Rick to the police car.

Trace interrupted her departure. "Wait. I hate to do this in light of what just happened, but I have no choice." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a long envelope, passing it to Jim.

This wasn’t the time. "I need to see Y/N," Jim protested. Trace forced the paper into his hand. "Read it, now,” he ordered.

"You had it coming," Rick gloated. "Stay away from my woman, Mason."

Oh shit. That couldn't be good. Jim ripped the top off the envelope and frantically opened the paper. The words made no sense, though. "This... This can't be right."

He had to be seeing things.

"What is it?" Y/N asked, stepping closer.

Trace held up a hand, undeniable reluctance twisting his expression. "I'm sorry, Y/N. You can’t come any closer than that, I'm afraid."

Jim held the papers to Chad. "Did Rick hit me harder than I thought? How can this be legal?"

It was Trace who answered. "They were delivered this morning."

"It's for your own safety, Y/N." Rick had put on the act again; all calm and mature, as if he hadn't just tried to attack her. "For our baby."

Trace motioned to Eli. "Take him away, I'll deal with this."

Everyone fell silent as a laughing Rick was guided off the fairgrounds, Eli's firm grip on his shoulder.

Jim's gaze met Y/N's-her panic and upset so clear he nearly ignored everyone around them and stomped across the space separating them, papers be damned. "Jim? What's going on?" she asked.

Chad walked over to give his sister the papers, wrapping an arm around her. The expression on Y/N’s face as she read them scared him more than the sight of Rick stalking her had.

"It's a restraining order against Jim," Trace explained to Y/N. "Using Jim's history, Rick went in front of a judge and filed a complaint. He said he had concerns that you and your baby might be in danger, especially if it’s discovered that the baby is actually his."

"That’s bullshit,” Medina snapped. "How can Rick get a restraining order on Jim? That’s up to Y/N, not anyone else."

Trace shook his head. "Except in special circumstances. Here in PV, this is a civil-court matter. If there's a reasonable belief that a claim is valid, exceptions can be made. The judge agreed there was a possibility of danger considering Jim was involved in a violent incident as a youth."

"Violent incident ...? He was trying to save his mom." Y/N shook the papers. "This is wrong, and the only reason Rick did it was to control me and hurt Jim."

Trace sighed. “There’s nothing I can do. Jim can go in front of a judge to protest, but until it's overruled, the order stands until the baby is born and the paternity test is complete."

Chad was back by Jim’s side, offering support. Jim rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder, the world swirling between pain and frustration.

Fear still shone in Y/N's eyes, and Jim felt it to his very soul. "I can't be with Y/N?"

"I’m sorry, no. No contact over the phone or Internet either. No communication. It’s a full restriction, and if you break it, you can be arrested."

Jim wanted to shout in rage even though that was the worst possible idea at the moment. Fury against Rick shot through him like living flames, but his hands were tied.

He was trapped.

Across from him, Y/N faced Trace. "I need to talk to you for a minute." The PVPD looked confused, but he nodded. "Go on." She spoke clearly, her voice the only sound as everyone around them hushed to silence once more. “Rick went too far. I'm going to do everything possible to make sure he gets no contact with my baby, even if he is the biological dad. He's dangerous."

Sweet relief poured through Jim. Her voice quivered for a second, those beautiful eyes of hers filling with tears, but she still lifted her chin and continued. "Tell Jim not to break the order. Contact the judge to see if he can get it lifted, but if he can't, I want him to wait it out. It's only for a little while. It sucks and it's wrong, and if Rick were still here I'd be the first one to knock him on his ass for doing this to us, but it's not worth going to jail for. I'll be fine, and within a month we'll be past this and we'll go on with our lives."

Such strength and power in her small frame, Jim was nearly overwhelmed by the display. "Hey, Trace?" he called. The PVPD turned his way. "Yes?"

Jim followed Y/N’s lead. "Tell Y/N I’m going to do everything I can."

"I know ..." she answered, not looking away from Trace. He shook his head. "Guys, you have to stop this. It's time to move on."

They faced each other across the distance that before had seemed like nothing but was now as large a barrier as the Narrow Sea. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she gazed sorrowfully one final time before walking toward the parking lot.

Jim's soul crumbled into dust. "How could this happen?" he whispered. "It's not right, to leave her all alone. I wanted to protect her. I need to protect her ..."

The murmur of voices rose as Medina stepped to his side. She laid her hand on his arm. "I'll go with her. I know it's not what you really want, but somehow we'll get through this."

"Go-” he urged.

Medina quick-stepped across the field to rejoin Y/N, slipping an arm around her. Y/N leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder, and they walked slowly, disappearing from sight around the corner.

All the happiness and joy Jim had finally allowed himself to grasp slipped away like ashes being blown from an abandoned fire pit.

#jim mason #tribes of palos verdes #fan fiction

5 notes · View notes

blkpnkwriting · 6 years

Text

crossfire

Jennie x Reader

Rated: M

Warnings: violence, guns, blood and injury, swearing

Word count: 2,347

It is only natural in the balance of things for opposing sides to clash.

ANON: Can I get a story where Jennie is a cop and the reader is in mafia and they are dating but Jennie doesn’t know and they each other between a crossfire between cops and mafia

In the haste to the bedroom, the blinds had not been drawn. Now, a streetlight’s orange glow fell in slats across the floor, climbing the disheveled bed, and saturated the smooth expanse of skin upon your lover’s abdomen. It completely captured your attention.

When Jennie was at your apartment, moonlight would pour upon her skin, alighting her with an ethereal aura. Here? The only light was artificial and yet, it still made her appear beautiful. Whereas before her skin seemed emit the light, it was here that she seemed to be the only warmth left in a dark world. The light didn’t reach you, leaving you in shadows. For that reason, you were drawn to touch her.

Even when you ran the pads of your fingers over her ribs, Jennie didn’t so much as stir, let alone wake up. These days, she was often exhausted. It made you sad to see her so overworked, but you knew in the end, she was doing what she loved. Jennie was protecting her city, a call she had felt since she was young, once confessed to you on a similar night. Resting your fingers on her diaphragm, you let the measured rise and fall of her breathing rock your hand like a little boat riding gentle waves. You took a moment to close your eyes and just let yourself be close to her. To feel her. Soaking up the knowledge that she was safe and sound. With you.

It was getting too much. With an inaudible sigh, your hand ghosted down Jennie’s stomach to her hip bones, just the bit that wasn’t covered by her bedsheets. It was there with the slightest bit more force that you flicked your index finger over the crest, as though you were running your finger over a knife’s edge. There were plenty more ways that Jennie was beautiful, but in this moment, you couldn’t help but admire her physical beauty.

To the department, Jennie was still considered new. To you, what you saw behind closed doors, Jennie was seasoned. Being a police officer was hard, admirable work. She willingly put herself in a position, that with today’s society, was often hated. Somehow, she did her job well, all with a smile on her face. Of course, she could be serious. There many things about her career that warranted that. But when she had the opportunity, she used her given power to prove that she was a good person, protecting the innocent. Not some monster the media painted from a different perspective.

The real monster was the person beside her.

Jennie had no idea what you really did. What you told her was that you worked in an accounting firm. It explained why you had a nicer apartment than she did, but hardly. While your job actually did include money, it was certainly not by legal terms.

You were the messenger in a broad underground drug circuit. Technically, you weren’t in the mafia. The only thing that dirtied your hands was laundered money, the only weapons you were armed with was your tongue in the form of threats. But when you rely on technicalities, you already know it’s wrong. Just because you weren’t technically a member of the mafia growing in your city doesn’t mean you weren’t in league with them. After all, they were the ones who put money in your bank account and posted security detail around your apartment — you also happened to be in a position to be hated, if not more than Jennie.

Flopping back on the bed, you stared up at the darkened ceiling. The contrast was too ironic, Jennie cast in a heroic shine while you remained in the shadows. In the beginning it had been easier. To lie to her, to hide the truth. Back then, it was genuinely easier. The mafia didn’t fly in the face of the law, and the police didn’t laser focus on the source of the rising crime. Months passed, you bumped up the ranks, and as you saw the efforts of your messenger work showering into your hands, you also saw how it affected Jennie.

As if she knew she was a part of your thoughts, Jennie turned in her sleep, shuffling closer to you. It was reflex now, the way you reached out and wrapped her up in your arms to close the gap between your bodies. A hum bubbled up the back of your throat at how warm she was. Not just against your skin, but the sensation you felt seeping through your body. It was like being near Jennie comforted you to your soul. Chasing away the numb that had settled since you forfeited your morals and accepted the life you had now.

Jennie nuzzled against your neck, her nose brushing your jugular. It felt protective, and it made you smile. It was just like her. Even in her sleep, Jennie would protect you. You noted long ago how the littlest gestures spoke of the natural guardian inside her — pulling you back by the crook of your elbow right before an unaware bicyclist nearly ran you over, a hand flying to your chest when she was forced to brake abruptly, watching every drink you ever took at a bar to make sure that it hadn’t been tampered with when you weren’t paying attention.

You never cried. It wasn’t your thing. Maybe it had something to do with that numb that blanketed your body, because as you laid there with Jennie in your arms, tears sprung to your eyes. The empty ceiling disappeared as you screwed your eyes shut. Regulate your breathing, keep the tears at bay. There was no way you would wake up Jennie in the middle of the night because you were crying like a baby. Not when she definitely needed the rest.

Not when you knew that if she woke up and questioned you, you would tell Jennie everything.

Another night, another collect.

You took the last dying drag of your cigarette and then flicked the butt into the gutter. Behind your back laid the brick of a pizza store after close, where you knew one of your more prominent drug dealers worked late. Also nursing his cigarette was one of the mafia’s bodyguards, standing at the mouth of the alley. Watching. You knew this bodyguard, Craig. When he first told you his name, you thought it was a joke, a basic title given by the mafia to protect his identity. He never did give you an answer, but you suspected you were right. A lot of your jobs included him, or one of the other bodyguards, provided by the higher-ups to make sure transactions went “smoothly.” That was code for intimidating deserters and making sure no one saw anything they weren’t supposed to.

The whine of metal bounced down the narrow aisle, and you cast a side-long gaze at the young man as he stepped out of the pizza store. Immediately noticing you, you watched his eyes flit between you and then the bodyguard’s formidable stature throwing a long shadow from the street. There was a 50/50 chance he would bolt, not that you would be shocked either way, but then he seemed to weigh his options and took off his backpack. Good. This would be over soon and you could go home.

Wait for Jennie to return safely home.

The dealer strode up to the beat of his shoes splashing dirty rain water. A hand fished through the depths of his backpack, probably discovering a hidden compartment he fashioned himself to retrieve the money. You kept your eyes on him, part of maintaining the role. All you had to do was trust that Craig could keep it cool in public eye so you could finish the transaction, drop it off back at the warehouse, and be on your way. On the outside, that appeared most notably as mildly disinterested.

After a moment, the dealer withdrew his hand. A fat stack of cash passed into your hands, and you were thankful that it wasn’t a gun drawn on you (it’s happened before). You thumbed the stack, flipping through quickly to make sure there weren’t any false bills filling the inside or notes smaller than you expected. It seemed to be in order, and even if the warehouse proved it wasn’t, the mafia knew exactly how to treat a cheater.

“Next pick up is on the 27th,” you stated evenly. The dealer nodded, grimacing a bit like he was uncomfortable and rather be anywhere else. You gestured with the stack of cash, indicating he could leave. The way back lead to a dead end of trash, so the only way out was pass you and the bodyguard, out onto the street. Perhaps his real fear resided with the fact that he would have walk by the bodyguard. Bodyguards were scary, if you thought about it.

As soon as he couldn’t see your face, you let the mask slip a little. The pick-ups were getting bigger, more frequent as the mafia’s influence spread like a virus. That meant the penalty was more severe as well. If you were caught with this much money in your possession —

A strange scream wailed from the background, bright lights illuminating the alleyway. Air didn’t even reach your lungs as you choked on a gasp, spinning around in time to see a police squad car shuddering to a stop under a streetlight.

Your bodyguard whipped around in your direction. The shove to the drug dealer had him sprawling to the wet ground with a terrified yelp as the bodyguard sprinted towards you, seizing you by the arm and practically dragging you.

“Stop! We don’t want to shoot you!”

Something like panic filled your chest as you reached the barbwire fence separating the pair of you from the other side of the alley. Your only way out.

“Climb, now!” your bodyguard commanded, pushing you toward the trash that you began to scramble up toward the fence. Cold links bit into your hands as you attempted to scale the obstacle. How you were going to deal with the barbwire, you weren’t sure yet, but then you heard it.

“Last chance!” a female voice hollered. “Give up or we’ll open fire!”

You’ve never heard that tone of voice before. Probably because you had never been in the situation to witness it. And that’s why it took you so long to recognize the voice. When you did, it could only be her.

“Wait, stop!” you screamed.

Loose asphalt sank deep into the flesh of your knees and palms as you fell back down the trash.

Above you, a gun revealed itself from the folds of the bodyguard’s suit.

“Don’t shoot!” you screamed louder, even as it felt as you were about to pass out from lack of oxygen.

Someone was crying. You blinked and made out the fetal position of the drug dealer, crying against the wall.

All it took was a couple swift seconds.

One.

You couldn’t hear yourself screaming anymore.

Two.

You saw her. Jennie. Dark hair fixed into a bun made her features sharper in the headlights. It also highlighted the fraction of a moment it took for her expression to shift from anger to stunned.

Three.

Your bodyguard fired a single shot.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

The ground jarred against your back. A bone deep pain rooted itself in your chest. The most surprising aspect of being shot was that you could still breathe.

The couple seconds that passed after that went pretty slowly.

For some reason, you couldn’t get up. It felt like the bullet had sapped you of all your strength the moment it ripped into you. All you could manage was lifting your head to look down at your body.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea — tears sprung to your eyes for the second time that week. Yeah, it fucking hurt, this hole in the middle of your chest. But what really had you crying was knowing you were going to die. Red leaked down your sternum, pooling on your stomach. Underneath you, you could imagine was a similar looking puddle. There was so much already. Didn’t it just happen?

“Y/N? Listen to me — you’re going to be okay!”

The only person that could bring you comfort in this cold, dark world. Jennie. Your vision swam, blurring the lines of her face as she kneeled over you. What was she thinking right now? Did she hate you? Did she want you to die after all?

“Baby? Can you hear me? They’re coming, okay! They’re coming! Stay with me, please!”

Maybe not. That was good. The last thing you wanted to think about while you still could was that the woman you loved hated you. You hated you. If you had never gotten mixed up in all this shit, you wouldn’t be bleeding out onto the ground for Jennie to see.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. You could still breathe, shockingly, but it wasn’t filling you like before. The next inhale was shorter. Of their own accord, your eyes slid to the sky. Damn the city. You couldn’t see the stars.

“Don’t you fucking apologize to me.” A hand took you by the chin, the shake to your head seeming to settle things back into place temporarily. Jennie glared down at you but the effect was lost in the tears that danced on her eyelashes. “You’re not leaving me. We’re going to figure this out. Because you’re going to live.”

“Please don’t be mad.” God, was that your voice? It sounded so small. What were you talking about?

Please don’t be mad when I leave you all alone.

“You’re not going to die, you hear me?” Whoa, that was a tremble. Still, Jennie was firm. Stoic, even if her voice betrayed her. “You’re not going to die because I won’t let you. I love you, okay? I love you.”

This time when the sky disappeared as you closed your eyes, it was with a smile.

#blackpink #blackpink fanfiction #blackpink scenarios #girl group scenarios #kpop scenarios #scenarios #WOW WHY CANT I STOP WRITING ABOUT BEING SHOT LMAO #i hope you all enjoy the request !!! 💖

204 notes · View notes

organiclifestylemagazine · 5 years

Text

Nurses Against Circumcision

Childbirth is miraculous, beautiful, traumatic, and overwhelming, all at the same time, for both the baby and the mother. But for many children born today, squeezing through the birth canal is the easy part. Soon after birth, males born to North American women routinely face amputation of a fully functioning, healthy organ – the foreskin.

Circumcision is so commonplace in North America, it has long been considered the norm. The World Health Organization estimates the male circumcision rate in the U.S. to be 76% to 92%, while the rates in most of the Western European countries are less than 20%. Globally, more than 80% of the world’s men are left intact. An intact penis is not rare – an intact penis is the norm.

Medical professionals tell parents that circumcision is relatively painless, just a snip and it is over. Nothing could be further from the truth. Aside from the rare but possible complications, which include mutilation of the penis or death, the practice of circumcision is painful and traumatic.

The following nurses have come forward to share their knowledge and experience, to tell the truth about this practice.

Related: Circumcision Linked to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome

Nicole, A Former Nursing Student

A few years ago, I began an OB/GYN hospital clinical as a student nurse. One day, I was enlisted to attend a ‘routine circumcision.

… I did not anticipate the lurching sensation that gripped my heart as I looked upon that baby. He was laying strapped down to a table, so small and new – pure and innocent – trusting – all alone – no defenses.

I walked toward the baby and wanted to take him off the table and shelter him – to tell him that it would be okay, that nobody would hurt him on my watch.

Then in walked the doctor. Loud. Obnoxious. Joking with his assistant. As if he was about to perform a 10-minute oil change.

Not once did he talk to this little baby. I am not sure he even looked at him – really looked at him.

Rather, he reached for his cold metal instruments and then reached out for his object of mutilation: this sweet newborn’s perfect, unharmed, intact penis.

I recall this little baby boy’s screams of pain and terror – his small lungs barely able to keep up with his cries and gasps for breath.

I turned in horror as I saw the doctor forcefully rip and pull the baby’s foreskin up and around a metal object.

Then out came the knife. Cut. Cut. Cut. Screaming. Blood.

I stood next to the baby and said, “You’re almost done sweetie. Almost done. There, done.”

Then came the words from the doctor, as that son-of-a-b***h dangled this little baby’s foreskin in midair and playfully asked, “Anybody care to go fishing?”

My tongue lodged in my throat.

I felt like I was about to vomit.

I restrained myself. It was now my duty to take the infant back to the nursery for “observation.”

… Back in the newborn nursery, rather than observing, I cradled the infant. I held him and whispered comforting words as if he were my own. I’ll never forget those new little eyes watch me amid his haze. He knew I cared about him. He knew he was safe in my arms. He knew that I was going to take him to his mommy. But, deep in his little heart, at some level, I know he wondered where his mommy was. While he lay there mutilated in a level of agony that we cannot imagine, in what was supposed to be a safe and welcoming environment after his birth, where was his mommy?

Related: Religious Reasons Not To Circumcise

Betty, RN

We are saying what is happening, because the male myth is, “Well, I was circumcised and I am fine, and my son was circumcised and he’s fine.”

But we’re saying, “Maybe you were circumcised, but it wasn’t fine, because we were there, and we saw what happened. It’s the same thing with your baby. We were there, and we saw it. It was not fine.”

… That is the next step, for the grown men to come forward. It’s happening now. There is a powerful coalition forming. We women are coming out as mothers and as witnesses to this brutal sexual assault. Women who have been circumcised in Africa are coming forward, too. We’re all saying this isn’t okay.

Mary, RN

We just wanted people to stop hurting babies. In 1992, we started a petition. Before that, I think we all had the sense that something was wrong, but we had never communicated about it. Everything I’d read said circumcision isn’t a necessary thing to do, from a medical or health standpoint. So why are we doing it? You take a newborn baby, strap him down to a board, and cut on him. It’s obviously painful!

Circumcision became so intolerable that five of us wrote a letter saying that ethically we could no longer assist. When we were getting ready to present the letter, other nurses came out of the woodwork and asked to sign it. Out of about 50 nurses, 24 signed it.

Now we’re conscientious objectors, but it’s still going on. We can still hear it.

… Behind closed doors, you can hear the baby screaming. You know exactly what part of the operation is happening by how the screams are.

Mary-Rose, RN

My dreams were about taking the babies and strapping them down, participating in the whole thing, and having the babies say to me, “Why are you doing this? You were just welcoming me, and now you’re torturing me. Why, why, why?”

I’ve watched doctors taking more foreskin than they should. When there’s too much bleeding, they burn the wound with silver nitrate so that the penis looks like it’s been burned with a cigarette. Then the doctor will tell us to go tell the mother that this is what it’s supposed to look like.

Related: Celebrities Against Circumcision

Chris, RN

I worked with countless intact men, mostly European immigrants in Chicago: Poles, Serbs, Lithuanians, etc. Younger men and older men. Men who could walk to the bathroom and men who constantly soiled themselves. Men who had indwelling Foley catheters and men who didn’t. Men who were impeccably clean and men who were homeless. Men who were healthy and men who were critically ill and severely immunocompromised. Never once did I encounter an adult male patient who had ever had a medical problem due to being intact.

… In fact, female patients are far more prone to fungal and bacterial genitourinary infections than male patients are—yeast infections, urinary tract infections, abscesses, etc. And we know that this is largely due not only to their shorter urethra, but also to their labial folds—their “excess” skin. Why don’t we cut that off? Why isn’t female circumcision considered for infection prophylaxis? That’s how we think of male circumcision. Except the reality is that, as with male patients, the “benefit” of circumcision would be negligible, because the number of serious complications with women staying “uncircumcised” is extremely minor.

So as it stands, we have two sons who are intact. One is almost five years old and the other is nearly three. They’ve never had a problem. During diapering they required less care and bother than our daughters did. And now, during bathing, we don’t retract or mess with their prepuce (foreskin).

They’re clean. They’re fine.

I suspect that someday they’ll be like my patients were: ninety years old and intact—with no regrets.

Related: Circumcision, the Primal Cut – A Human Rights Violation

Patricia, RN

I am a neonatal nurse practitioner with over 42 years of experience in maternal newborn health. I have seen many circumcisions, and I have been appalled at the pain that they have caused.

… In my experience as a neonatal nurse, I know that circumcisions are painful, that little boys will cry for days after the procedure. They need to be medicated with Tylenol. They need to have injections at the penile nerve to try to prevent the pain, but it doesn’t completely eliminate it. I have seen excessive bleeding after the procedure. I’ve seen disfigurement. I believe that little boys are made the way they are because it’s absolutely fine to be intact. If there was a problem with foreskin, nature would not have put it there. So let little boys decide when and if they want to be circumcised. But parents, please spare your child the pain and unnecessary surgery that is not without risk. Just think about it.

I have seen, not loss of the entire penis but definitely disfigurement, and definitely excessive bleeding that has required intervention by GU specialists, suturing. Complications occur frequently.

…When babies are born, one of the first developmental tasks is to learn to trust the world, which means being in the comforting arms of their mother and father. To subject them in the first couple of days after birth to this terribly painful procedure just seems like the wrong way to start life. But the bottom line is: it is not necessary.

Jacqueline Maire, RN

I am a retired nurse in France as well as in British Columbia, a mother, a grandmother, and today I really want to speak specifically to female circumcisers, those who cut the penis of little boys. I have questions. What is your excuse? Were you at one point molested by a male in your youth that makes you now take revenge on any penis whatsoever and whatever the age of the victim, in this case, a defenseless little boy? Did you ever have an orgasm? And I’m not talking while you’re making love, I’m just talking about sex. Never had an orgasm with an intact male and discovered the wonders and the perfection of the act? Well. I feel sorry for you, but this is not an excuse to take revenge on defenseless children, baby boys mostly and I don’t understand how you can do that without being ashamed of yourself. Well, it’s just excuses, or medical excuses, or plain and simple fallacies. I feel sorry for you, but I also feel ashamed in the name of womanhood. You don’t respect your Hippocratic oath if you even know what it’s all about. Well, I’ll remind you it’s first “do no harm.” You’re just plain bitches, and I’m not insulting the female dog there. You are very mean, and I’m disgusted.

Related: 10 Circumcision Myths – Let’s Get the Facts Straight

Dolores Sangiuliano, RN

I’m a registered nurse, and we have an ethical code, the AMA Code of Ethics for Nurses, and it states very clearly that we are charged with the duty to protect our vulnerable patients. If we’re not protecting our vulnerable patients, then our license isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. If anybody is vulnerable, it’s a newborn baby. You know, a child with no voice, and that’s why I carry this sign: “I will not do anything evil or malicious and I will not knowingly… assist in malpractice”.

Infant circumcision is maleficence and malpractice. It’s totally unethical. Proxy consent is only valid for a procedure. In other words, parents can give consent for a procedure for their child. That’s proxy consent in a case of treatment or diagnosis, and circumcision is neither. You’re not treating a disease, and you’re not trying to diagnose an illness. So it just flies in the face of everything we know to be ethical, right, and moral. And I believe that forced genital cutting, all forced genital cutting, is always wrong. It should be consented to, fully informed consent, and that fully informed consent needs to include what you’re cutting off the penis, the value of the foreskin, and the consequences of changing the structure from a mobile, fluid unit to this dowel like structure, and that needs to be included. Ethical nurses educate their patients. Ethical nurses teach intact care, and ethical nurses don’t participate in forced genital cutting ever.

A woman from Egypt came up to us and she said,” I totally agree with you. Female circumcision happens in our country all the time, and it’s illegal but it still goes on. And it’s our cultural shame.” And she said, “I totally understand you having your cultural shame for doing this and it is the same thing.” And we just had a total agreement conversation about, and it doesn’t matter the varying degrees. We don’t need to compare the varying degrees of harm. Because a lot of people say female circumcision is much worse. But right out of her mouth she said, “But no, it’s the same. To the person having it done, it’s the same.” That was really good.

A Danish woman came and said, during her college days, she came to the United States and had a little bit of fun one season and she had sex with an American man. She was horrified because she didn’t know what had happened to him. She thought he had been in some sort of industrial accident. She didn’t know how to ask him or how to approach it. So that was an interesting tale, and I really appreciated the term industrial accident in a new way cause this is an industry, the medical industry. It’s not so accidental. Although their intention is to say that they’ve improved our males, they, perhaps by accident, devastated us and devastated so many men sexually and in their souls.

Kira Antinuk RN

Feminism, at its best, encourages me to think broadly and critically about the potentially harmful effects of gender constructions on all people. To me, feminism should be more than a narrow interest group of women who care only about women’s issues or women’s rights. My feminism is bigger than that. I believe that feminism can help us to identify and challenge discourses and practices that engender all of us.

… Upon review in 2009, scholars Marie Fox and Michael Thompson found that most feminists’ considerations of female genital cutting either omit to consider male genital cutting altogether or deem it a matter of little ethical or legal concern. Why might this be? So biomedical ethicist Dena Davis observed that the very use of the term “circumcision” carries vaguely medical connotations and serves to normalize the practice of male genital cutting.

Conversely, it’s worth noting, how the term female circumcision was essentially erased from academic, legal, and to some extent popular discourse following the World Health Organization’s re-designation of the practice as FGM or female genital mutilation in 1990. The WHO’s justification was that the new terminology carried stronger moral weight. So, terminology then, as well as the differential constructions of the practices themselves seems to protect male genital cutting from the critical scrutiny that other practices like female genital cutting attract.

Now it seems pretty clear to me, that this asymmetry extends to the very different understandings of genitalia and human tissue that we all have. Here in the West, for example, we’re heavily invested in the clitoris to the extent, that its excision results in what Canadian anthropologist Janice Body referred to as “serious personal diminishment.” Janice Body went on to say, “We customarily amputate babies’ foreskins, not with some controversy, but little alarm. Yet global censure of these practices is scarcely comparable to that level of female circumcision. Is it because these excisions are performed on boys and only girls and women figure as victims in our cultural lexicon?”

Sophia Murdock, RN

After we had taken the newborn back to the “circ room” in the nursery, I watched the nurse gather the necessary supplies, place him on a plastic board [a circumstraint], and secure his arms and legs with Velcro straps. He started crying as his tiny and delicate body was positioned onto the board, and I instantly felt uncomfortable and disturbed seeing this helpless newborn with his limbs extended in such an unnatural position, against his will. My instincts wanted to unstrap him, pick him up, and comfort and protect him. I felt an intense sensation of apprehension and dread about what would be done to him. When the doctor entered the room, my body froze, my stomach dropped, and my chest tightened.

This precious baby was an actual person. He was a 2-day-old boy named Landon, but the doctor barely acknowledged him before administering an injection of lidocaine into his penis.

Instantly, Landon began to let out a horrifying cry. It was a sound that is not normally ever heard in nature because this trauma is so far outside of the normal range of experiences and expectations for a newborn.

The doctor, perhaps sensing how horrified I was, tried to assure me that the baby was crying because he didn’t like being strapped onto the board. He began the circumcision procedure right away, barely giving the anesthetic any time to take effect.

Landon’s cries became even more intense, something I hadn’t imagined was possible. It seemed as if his lungs were unable to keep up with his screams and desperate attempts to maintain his respirations.

Seeing how nonchalant everyone in the room was about Landon’s obvious distress was one of the most chilling and harrowing things I had ever witnessed. I honestly don’t remember the actual procedure, even though the doctor was explaining it to me. I can’t recall a word he said during or after because I wasn’t able to focus on anything but Landon’s screams and why no one seemed to care. I only remember that the nurse attempted to give him a pacifier with glucose/fructose at some point.

Landon was “sleeping” by the end of the circumcision, but I knew it was from exhaustion and defeat. I had watched as his fragile, desperate, and immobilized body struggled and resisted until it couldn’t do so anymore and gave up.

Seeing this happen made me feel completely sick to my stomach, and I told myself that I would absolutely refuse to watch another circumcision if the opportunity presented itself again. I was unable to stop thinking about what I saw and heard…

The sounds that I heard come from Landon as he screamed and cried out still haunt me to this day.

Darlene Owen, RN

The truth about circumcision is that it is not medically necessary. It is not cleaner. Studies have proven again and again that it has no direct relation on cancer etc. as was once thought. It is also a very painful procedure. The baby does feel it, experience it.

There have been studies that demonstrate actual MRI changes within an infant’s brain after a circumcision has been performed.

As for those who claim “it looks better”, my response is, “Really? Based on whose decision?” A penis with a foreskin is how the penis is supposed to look. The foreskin has a function. It provides protection of the very sensitive glans (head) of the penis, and it provides ease during intercourse. During intercourse, the penis moves within its foreskin, preventing rubbing or friction of the vagina, which makes intercourse far more pleasurable for both the man and woman.

Many people will respond in outrage over female circumcision, yet still consider circumcision of males “the norm.”

Many parents aren’t properly informed of the procedure. It IS a very serious procedure with very many real risks involved. In my experience as a post-partum nurse, many parents who were led to believe it was a “minor” procedure and observed their sons’ circumcision, were sickened just as I was at the actual pain and distress it caused their infant. I have had many patients who, after witnessing their first son’s circumcision, decided immediately that they would not get any other boys they may have circumcised. Many parents told me that they wished they had known just how painful it would be for their son, that they would not have even considered it if they had known what is actually involved.

As for the argument that many men want their son to look like them, my answer is, “Why?” It is a stupid argument. Why can’t parents simply teach their son that their son’s penis is “normal and healthy”, that “Daddy had his normal, healthy functioning skin of his penis removed surgically, unnecessarily.” I also always say to those people, “Really? Well, watch an actual circumcision, and see if you still feel that way afterwards.” I have yet to see any parent watch a video, or view an actual circumcision procedure, who is not completely against the idea afterwards.

An uncircumcised penis is very easy to keep clean. There is no special care required. The saying goes, “Clean only what is seen.”

As for worrying about the son’s foreskin not retracting, and needing a circumcision later in life, that actually only occurs in a very, very small number of males. However, even if the male does need the surgery later in life, he will be put to sleep for the procedure and will not feel it. He will also be managed comfortably with pain medication. A newborn doesn’t have any of those benefits. A newborn is awake for it, will feel it, and doesn’t receive any pain medication.

Ask any grown male if he’d get his penis circumcised while awake, with no freezing, and I guarantee you’d hear a very loud resounding “NO!” Yet, many men will put their newborn son through it. Doesn’t make much sense does it?

I realize that at one time it was considered the norm. Now, however, with all of the education about it, I cannot understand why parents still proceed to put their tiny little newborn son through such a horrific experience.

I am proud to say that I am an intactivist and the proud mom of two gorgeous, healthy, intact boys.

Related: Doctors Against Vaccines – Hear From Those Who Have Done the Research

Andrew, RN

I am a registered nurse. I work at a DC hospital. It’s not part of my current job, but when I was in nursing school, I witnessed several circumcisions as part of my rotation, and I was interested in it because personally, I had developed an opposition to circumcision.

As an adult, I never had to be part of that decision not having a child. But I knew that if I did, it was one that I would want to make. And when I had the opportunity, I asked a doctor whom I watched perform it if he thought it was medically necessary because in my education, it is no longer stated, there is no longer a valid medical claim being made in the literature including in my nursing textbooks and so how can you justify it? And he said that he doesn’t personally justify it. He just knows that for the time being, it will continue to be done and he wants it done humanely and as well as possible. And he said “And I do it well” And indeed, he seemed to be proficient in it. I then asked him if he had noticed that the husband of the couple who had just had it done had seemed like he had his doubts and he said, “Yeah, I noticed that too”. “Do you think someone should have discussed it further with him because he clearly didn’t support the decision.” And then he said that that happens all the time, that one of the two of the couple want that decision made and the other go along with it.

My nurse’s perspective is that part of our job as an educator is to give more information, and so that would have been a great opportunity for someone to give that couple more information about whatever concerns the mother had that made her think that circumcision was the best decision. She seemed actually like she had some ill-conceived notions about the difficulty of keeping it clean, things that I knew that medically were not actually accurate. I actually thought at that time that I saw an opportunity for nurses to step in and educate her, to help and not tell the couple what they should do, but make sure they had the best information possible to make a decision, that again, is no longer being promoted clearly on the literature as medically necessary, including in my textbooks, and this was just last year.

Carole Alley, RN

And after the strap down and tie, they’re still screaming. The screaming lasts the entire time. And I don’t know if you’ve ever heard a baby scream like that. It’s not a regular cry. It’s not a cry of hunger or a cry of wanting to be hugged or a cry of having a wet diaper. This is a cry of incredible pain. I mean, it goes right through your body. Every cell in your body responds. And then the child is circumcised. You know, there are two different ways of doing it. Sometimes anesthesia local will be used but for the most part, I’ve never seen babies stop crying, even if that’s given. A lot of the time, it’s not used. More often than not, it’s not used. And then the clamp goes over the baby’s penis and the foreskin is cut off.

Patricia Worth, RN

In my opinion, this is an abuse. There is not enough information out there to convince me that this is medically necessary. And just as I can read through the Old Testament of the Bible, and stoning women to death because they committed adultery, I see as abusive, this “ancient covenant,” I look at it as a well, the human race has done all kinds of things and thought was the best thing at the time, and in retrospect, we can look back and go, blood sacrifice of human beings? This is not right. This is not morally right. This is not ethical. And especially when you’re taking someone who has not consented. Parents can consent all they want. This does not mean the child has consented to this.

Marilyn Milos, RN The Mother of the Intactivist Movement

While working as a nurse in a hospital, she learned about circumcision by assisting doctors during the procedure. The obvious pain and distress felt by the infant prompted Marilyn to research circumcision. Afterwards, she was able to provide parents with all of the facts.

By offering true informed consent, she dramatically cut into her hospitals’ cutting business. She was fired. Undaunted, she went to work saving our sons. She founded a non-profit known as NOCIRC, demonstrating that one person can still make a difference.

Here are her words:

The more we understand what was taken, the more we understand the harm of circumcision, that it is a primal wound, that it does interfere with the maternal-infant bond, that it disturbs breastfeeding and normal sleep patterns. Most importantly, that it undermines the first developmental task, which is to establish trust. And how can that male ever trust again? And I think that’s very hard for a lot of men and why men need to have control and be in control, and their reactions to make themselves more safe.

It was so amazing to me when I worked in a hospital, and my first question would be, “I see—I see that you’re gonna have the baby circumcised, and may I ask why you’ve chosen circumcision for your baby?” And they would say, “Oh, because I’m a Christian.” And I said, “Do you know that there’s 120 references to circumcision in the New Testament, that circumcision is of no value? If you’re a Christian you don’t live by outward signs. You live by faith expressed through love. Christ shed the last—was the last to shed the blood. He was the ultimate blood sacrifice for everybody. We don’t need to do this again.”

Conclusion

The hardest moral dilemmas seem to lie at the crossroads of two or more moral principles. In this instance, the right to religious freedom and the right to bodily integrity are in conflict for some parents. But if we are to uphold the right to bodily integrity for girls regardless of religion (Muslims often circumcise girls), shouldn’t we allow the same protection for boys?

Although religion is a factor, many parents choose circumcision simply because it is considered the norm. Myths about disease and cleanliness add to the confusion. When parents are not given all the facts, they cannot make an informed decision. On average, nurses are poorly equipped to answer their questions about circumcision. They do not educate parents, explaining the 16 functions of the foreskin or teach parents how to care for an intact child. (Nothing! Do not retract the foreskin. It cleans itself!)

Our sons’ genitals are carved apart in the name of healthcare when in actuality the practice is a profit-making enterprise. Circumcisions generate a lot of money for hospitals, while intact penises bring in no money at all. So while it is ethical for a nurse to provide parents with informed consent, it is wholly unprofitable for them to do so.

The truth will win. Circumcision is a profound violation of human rights. This conclusion is inescapable once we begin to think critically about the practice.

Author’s Note:

Male genital mutilation is still legal in all 50 states, and although Marilyn Milos hasn’t yet completely changed the world, she changed mine.

I am the second born of two sons. My older brother was circumcised. I was not.

Before my birth, my mother met a neighbor who had been given literature from NOCIRC. The sharing of this information about the benefits of the foreskin and the dangers and drawbacks of circumcision is the reason I was left intact.

Marilyn Milos bet on the idea that when given all the facts, more parents would make the right decision, and in my case she was spot on. I am intact, my sons are intact, and my nephews are intact.

Marilyn, I can never thank you enough for what you’ve done for me and for my family. You are an inspiration to us all.

Sources

Circumcision- A Male RN’s Perspective: Chris – Dr.Momma.org

Ethical Nurse Refuses to Assist Infant Circumcision: Dolores Sanguiliano – YouTube

Nurses For the Rights of the Child

Nurse Questions Women Who Sexually Mutilate Boys: Jacqueline Maire – YouTube

Registered Nurse Shares Thoughts About Circumcision: Andrew – YouTube

Nurses Against Circumcision was originally published on Organic Lifestyle Magazine

#Circumcision #Intact #Intactivism

2 notes · View notes

soomlns-blog · 6 years

Text

hello ! i’m meg, i’m 19, use she/her pronouns and live in est. sorry this intro is mad late, i’ve come down with something but we’re going airplane tell you about soomin anyways !!! the fourth link on my blog is a stats tab, and it’s nearly finished so feel free to check that out --- and finally, you can read some more info on soomin under the cut ! if you’d like to plot, which i hope you do, feel free to im me or hmu on d*scord @ i want everyone to raw taemin#0420 ( don’t judge me ) !!!

KANG SOOMIN.

kang soomin came into the world in seoul in 1994. his father, kang dongsung, an heir to his own father’s well built business and his mother, guk soori, was nothing more than a karaoke hostess his father had met while getting drunk with friends. born to an unwed couple in korea in the 90′s, it was safe to say soomin’s early life wasn’t easy.

dongsung’s parents frowned upon the birth of a child out of wedlock, soomin’s grandfather wanted nothing to do with such a child. felt it was best hidden. dongsung didn’t often go against his father’s wishes. this time was no different, despite him having some feelings towards soori he told her he could have nothing to do with her any longer, and nothing to do with their child.

soori didn’t mind much. sure, she’d cared for dongsung, but she hadn’t exactly expected a man she’d met at the karaoke bar to be responsible for his child, let alone a kang. she knew she wasn’t going to end up his wife and be some high society mistress. thus she let it roll off her shoulders, and even knowing it’d be hard, she had her child on her own. that’s where soomin comes into the picture.

born guk soomin to a single mother, despite things being rough for them, he was a happy child. always bright, always smiling. his mother worked several jobs to keep food on the table, caring for not only her son but her sister who seemed incapable of doing so herself. when soomin did get to spend time with his mother, the normally happy child was even more so elated. he loved his mother more than anything else.

a kind, caring woman, she taught soomin to be giving. to be loving. to be respectful. she raised him until he was nearly nine years old, but life got in the way. or perhaps, that isn’t the right phrasing. death is what got in the way, after all. a few months before soomin’s ninth birthday, his aunt picked him from school. it was unusual to say the least. despite her mooching off of his mother, soomin hardly saw his aunt.

unfortunately, it wasn’t because she’d missed her dear nephew. she came bearing bad news --- news soomin didn’t think he’d ever have to hear. his mother was dead. soomin was too young to understand all the technicalities and the sciences behind her death, but he wasn’t too young to understand what had caused it. guk soori had worked herself to death. she’d done it for her family. for him.

soomin’s aunt was the only family he truly had left, but she wasn’t interested in raising a child. after all, she could hardly care for herself, let alone a nine year old with a broken heart. that’s how soomin ended up at the kang’s door. his father had since been married, and to a woman with a child. while soomin grew up with his mother alone, his father cared for someone else’s kid.

at the time, soomin didn’t quite grasp that. however, he did grasp that he was second to this child in every way. his father cared more for his step-child than his own flesh and blood. only taking soomin under his wing to prevent it being spread that his off-spring was put in the system. for soomin’s ninth birthday, he got a gift he’d never wanted. he became a kang.

soomin went from having nothing but a loving mother to having everything but. however, his education improved, his clothing, his warmth and he ate more as a kang than he ever had as a guk. soomin missed a lot of things about his mother, her gentleness, her family name, her. but he put on a brave face, soomin learned young that no one cared about how he was really feeling. it was best to always smile. to never burden.

the one thing soomin did get to keep, was soccer. he’d played on his local team when he was with his mother and now he was playing on a bigger team at a larger school, and he was good. his skills improved fast and he found soccer connected him more to his old life than anything else. it became his passion quite quickly as you can imagine.

soomin discovered in his teenage years, soccer wasn’t his only passion. it wasn’t business, though his father intended to make it business --- no, it was boys. the pretty boy in his history class, the soccer captain, his father’s assistant. he was passionate about men, but he knew his father wasn’t. in fact, his father pushed him towards several of his business partners daughters, and soomin ? complied.

another thing he learned young ? he didn’t have the privelage to be gay. so he stayed silent, loved boys in quiet. and outwardly ? to the world ? he was heterosexual. it pleased his father, one of the only things soomin did that could please him. so soomin figured it wasn’t so bad of a trade off, right ? as soomin got older, he only learned to hide his sexuality more. not only was his father not keen on homosexuality, but his teammates weren’t either. he was told by everyone who he should love, and he listened.

despite this, soomin remained the same happy-go-lucky guy he’d always been. smiling all the time, being kind and caring. deep down he was affected, but as he’d learned, he couldn’t burden others. he was the shoulder to cry on, not the one who cried. though this made him appear fake at times, it was only ever out of the goodness of his heart.

as soomin got older he continued his passion for soccer, attending a school well-versed in sports. however, he still majored in business. if you asked his father ? his current stint as a professional soccer player wouldn’t last long, and he’d be back at the kang business before everyone knew it. funnily enough, his teammates thought the same thing.

despite being very talented, soomin’s teammates saw him as someone whose father bought his way. it wasn’t true, not even slightly, but being a kang came with not only harshness in his home, but outside of it too. his father wasn’t exactly a great guy, and he was keen on paying the way for soomin’s step sibling. soomin always understood why they though that of him, and never got angry over their harsh teasing.

soomin is a great guy all in all, despite his rough past. though he does date women while having no feelings for them, everything else he does is rooted only in kindness instead of selfishness. he’s very giving and involves himself with several charities. his dad didn’t like this either, saying the kang’s didn’t become rich by giving away their money. however, soomin knew what it was like to have nothing --- he loved giving back.

though soomin could never seem to please his father, he remained confident. one of his worst traits was his pride, and perhaps it was built up to hide his many insecurities, but regardless. he could certainly present as a bit cocky from time to time, but nothing rich people weren’t used to seeing. when you have all that wealth ? it usually goes to your head a bit. of course, his father doesn’t quite care how cocky he is. he sees him as unfit to run the family business, as an embarrassment to the kangs.

as far as personality goes, soomin is an amazing person despite his flaws. he’s generous and empathetic, and there for those who need him. he’s a bit of a people pleaser, perhaps too much so, but it only makes him seem that much more gentle and that much more lovable. he’s also pretty energetic and adventurous, he loves trying new things and having fun. he’s essentially a human golden retriever ( in a non-furry way ).

i think that’s all i’ve got for now ! i hope you love soomin because my big baby definitelty deserves it ! thanks for reading !

CONNECTIONS.

first friend ----- the first person soomin got close to when he came to live with his father and was introduced to this new world of rich kid culture. ( 1 slot open )

first kiss ( girl ) ----- his first kiss with a girl. probably was... bad ? neither of them talk about it anymore. could be really good friends now or something ? we can plot it out more. ( 1 slot open )

first kiss ( boy ) ----- really cemented for soomin that he was gay. was definitely a secret, and is something soomin may even act as if never happened ( certainly does if it’s mentioned around others ). ( 1 slot open )

ex-boyfriend ----- someone he dated, but it didn’t work out either because it just couldn’t or because the sneaking around and soomin pretending to be so heterosexual just pushed them away. we could have fun with it ! ( 1 slot open )

beards ----- any of the girls he’s dated to appease his father and/or the public ? we’d have to talk about it in more detail but they could be a current girlfriend or an ex, and it could make for a fun plot too. ( 2 to 3 slots open )

best-friend ----- obvious plot here. just a ride or die friend, they’re really close. tell each other almost everything. when one is single, the other joins them as a plus one. that kind’ve amazing best-friendship ! ( 1 slot open )

step-sibling ----- the child of the woman his father married. no blood-relation, but they certainly act like siblings. they bicker all the time, but at the end of the day despite their differences and his sibling being much more ... bratty, soomin would do anything for them. they’re the only person he even really considers family. ( 1 slot open )

#( * ooc ) ━━━━━ ❝ 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.#bourgeois:intro #this is rlly late but here it is !!! love me !!!

2 notes · View notes

desolate-rose · 3 years

Text

Chapter 8 magic is real!

I have a plan!

And it only took me two years and some change!

And that’s not the only thing i've done in the last two and a half years! (that would've been a very boring two years) I can walk AND talk! And through these new skills (which were a pain to get let me tell you! Learning to walk left. So. Many. Bruises.) I had discovered all sorts of things!

I had confirmed that I am in fact a princess, we do in fact live in a castle, and that I am indeed a hylian.

That knowledge had sent me into another one of my depressingly common panic attacks, but it wasn’t all bad!

My new skills led me to the discovery of, (drumroll please) A LIBRARY!

Oh sweet literacy how I missed you!

I may have given my parents the mistaken impression of being some sort of baby genius or something, but in all honesty I was just desperate to be able to read again. Again being a baby was very very VERY boring, and my rationale thought and impulse control had honestly been worn down by the lack of intellectual stimulation! I was sooooooo bored of baby babble.

Also it wasn't exactly out of character for the cannon zelda, she had repaired / created an incredibly advanced guardian as a child which was not only capable of showing a personality planing and a facsimile of emotion, but also TIME TRAVEL.

Should I have pretended to be the average three year old because I'm not actually some sort of genius? probably. Will this have consequences for me? most likely. Will I regret this later? Almost certainly. Do I care right now? NO!

Consequences can suck it!

Mama needs to feed her addiction!

Also it wasn’t like I had just started to read books bigger than my head either, I’m still learning to read hylian, it’s a whole new language writing system and alphabet! I’m still stuck on baby books and basic words, but it’s better then nothing!

And sadly the little i can decipher of the hylian writing system is also more advanced than the nothing that real three year olds know. So I’m now the castle's little genius, mom and dad are absolutely brimming with pride. Honestly it’s too much attention placed on little ol me but if it’s a competition between too much attention or not being able to read, I’d choose to read every time.

I’m currently trying to figure out a rough chronology for the events of breath of the wild and all of its proceeding events. (assuming I'm not in the age of calamity: hyrule warriors timeline, but that timeline only exists as a split off of the original timeline so for now i'm assuming im in the original timeline. Prepare for the worst hope for the best and all that rot. Also im not stupid enough to assume that i can be a baby genius and just yha know MAKE a time triveling gaurdian) so that I can best implement my plans. Here’s my rough ROUGH timeline.

10,000 years before the start of the game Gannon attacks and is sealed away by the hero and princess with the help of the 4 champions, the Divine beasts, and the guardians.

At some point after that the sheikah become distrusted due to their powerful magic and technology and are banished.

They split in two the yiga who hate the royals of hyrule for their betrayal and join forces with gannon, and those who remain with the spirit of the sheikah and give up their great skills to remain serving the crown

98,983 years later princess Zelda is born. Shortly before that link is born

At some point a prophecy announcing the return of calamity Ganon is made.

At some point Zelda's mom dies making her unable to learn sealing magic from her.

Zelda is pressured into praying and praying and praying to unlock her sealing magic, at one point even collapsing in freezing water nearly losing her life if it wasn't for urbosa saving her.

The sheikah rediscover the Divine beasts, guardians, and sheikah slate.

Zelda helps to study these ancient artifacts to the disapproval of her father

Link finds the master sword

Link is appointed zelda's personal knight

The champions are chosen

Zelda goes to the spring of wisdom on her 17th birthday and Gannon returns

The champions, king bosphorus, and thousands of innocent people die when Gannon turns the Divine beasts and the guardians against them

Link is mortally wounded and Zelda unlocks her powers.

Link is sent to the shrine of resurrection

Zelda returns the master sword to the lost woods and goes to face Gannon alone for the next 100 years

100 years later Link wakes up with no memories and the events of the game commence.

In the end my plan is quite simple. Make sure my mom doesn't die. All of Zelda's problems stem from her mom's death, Gannon could only wreak havoc because Zelda's mom wasn't there to teach her the sealing magic or deal with calamity Gannon herself. At best my mom could teach me the magic and we could seal Gannon away together or she could do it or I could do it, at worst I can use the magic because I'm not actually the girl who is meant to be the zelda incarnation of hylia. Either way gannon gets defeated, bada bing bada boom no great calamity no destruction of all i've come to know and love.

Does it sound stupidly simplistic yes. But in all honesty it needs to be. There are too many variables at work here to have a twenty step plan and have it all go accordingly. Life is messy and unpredictable and not exactly amenable to complex multi step plans that rely on everything going a certain way. There's a reason that the saying ‘the best way to make God laugh is to tell him your plans,’ is so poupar. This isn't a game any more, stuff happens, free will is a thing. I can't rely on what I think I know. Who knows how much the butterfly effect has already affected things. So simplicity is the name of the game, it allows for the flexibility a rigid multi step plan would not.

So my plan really only has two components: learn sealing magic as soon as I can, And make sure my mom survives.

simple but hopefully effective

______________________________

I toddeled determinedly through the halls ignoring the bemusedly indulgent granny trailing behind me.

Fun fact about being a princess, you don't get any alone time. Ever. i am constantly being monitored, be it by granny, spots, father, mother, or some other random sap assigned to guard duty. Literally the only times I am left alone is when I head to the restroom or am put to bed for the night.

It's only mildly infuriating.

Mildly.

But anyway, at this time of day I would usually be at the library attempting to read some of the less difficult books or in my nursery playing with my toys under the watchful gaze of granny or spots, but today I have a mission. I was going to get my mom to start teaching me sealing magic if it kills me. I had found the perfect excuse as well. An old story book depicting the great matrilineal line of queens and their unique gift bestowed upon them by hylia herself. Now to enact my plans and deploy my greatest weapon. puppy dog eyes.

I stumbled my way into the office where my mom was going over various papers with a serious look upon her face. “Mama!” I cried practically throwing myself into her lap. McGuffin clenched in hand. “What is it my little bird” she smiled blessing my day, watering my crops, clearing my skin, and healing my wounds. “I found something i don't understand!” I chirped, squirming myself into a more comfortable position, book tucked into my arms. “Oh and why didn't you ask ila?” (so that was granny's name, huh.) “mhhhmmm i wanted to ask you!” que puppy dog eyes version 37 bright, cheerful, innocent. Work that toddler arua!

Mother chuckled while granny rolled her eyes behind me, I saw that missy! Don't give me your sass! “Oh and what didn't you understand?” PLAN IS A GO “mama what's se-al-ing magic? Why does the book say I have it? I'm not magic!” I pretended to pout indignantly, flipping to the page in my book that referenced it.

“Sealing magic baby, is the reason our line has ruled hyrule since the hylians lived amongst the clouds, it's a special gift from hylia herself.” hook, line, sinker. “Really?!” “yes my little bird, it's a special magic that lets us seal away bad guys, banish evil, and protect our kingdom. It's proof that we descended from hylia herself” as mother said this she raised one of her hands allowing for it to be bathed in an ethereal golden glow, bathing her in light and making her look like something genuinely devine.

Before this there had always been a little part of me that had been denying the truth. No matter how often it was mentioned in books or stories. No matter how many things had pointed to this being the hyrule of stories, a small part of me had been screaming that magic isn't real and that the legend of Zelda couldn't be real. But now, bathed in divine light and witnessing true honesty to god magic for the first time I could no longer deny the truth. Normally this confirmation would chill me to the bone and cause hysterical fear, but the power before me was warm, comforting, and at the same time incomprehensible. I could not fear when this light this power was here to bolster my spirit. I had never been adamantly religious before, but in the face of this light, for the first time I truly believed in the divine.

As the light faded away and I blinked spots out of my eyes I reaffirmed my mission. I needed to learn how to do that. Yesterday.

“Teach me! Teach me! Teach me!” I chanted practically vibrating where I sat, eyes wide in wonder and awe. “Now now little one, not so fast!” my mother chuckled, ruffling my hair.

“Why not!” I asked indignantly and was a little worried. I NEEDED to know sealing magic for my plan to work. It wasn't safe to put all your eggs in one basket. No matter how hard i would be working to save my mother regardless of calamity ganon.

“You're not old enough yet, my little songbird.” NOT OLD ENOUGH! I WAS 17 YEARS OLD WOMAN WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT!? “I am old enough! I know how to read and everything!'' I frowned, doing my best not to show the inner turmoil starting to boil.

A little of it seemed to show on my face with the way mother immediately began to sooth me “zelda that's not what i mean.” my eyes searched hers, they were uncommonly serious. “Our magic is powerful and dangerous. There is a reason i can't teach it to you yet. Your not yet old enough in body or mind to be able to withstand the strain that kind of magic would put on your spirit.” my face must have still looked mutinous because she continued on. “Beyond just that, your power is not developed enough yet even if you could withstand the strain. You wouldn't be powerful enough to actually use your sealing magic.”

This is bad very very bad. “When can i learn it?!” mother chuckled at my assumed enthusiasm “Numbers hold power baby, when you turn seven you can start your lessons.”

Seven, SEVEN! That's years from now! The remaining calm and serenity from the glow of hylia's might drained from my body.

“Now i think it's time for your nap! Come on little bird i'll put you to bed, maybe afterward you can sing me a song hmm?”

Why do the gods hate me?

Also on FanFiction.Net! https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13547505/8/

#botw #princess zelda #zelda #botw fic #botw oc #zelda botw #loz botw #breath of the wild #the advertable inevitability #t.a.i #inevitability

0 notes

freyawrites-archive · 7 years

Note

Hay! Anon from the sister ask again, thank you so much! I hope you don't mind, but can you do a part two? Thanks again really! Bye! See ya!

I really love your blog! I read your HCs for the chocobros if they had a younger sister (another one in Gladdy’s case), I was wondering, how would they react to the fall of Insomnia, knowing that their sister(s) were probably still in the city? Also how would the eventual reunion with said sister go down? Keep writing! You’re really good! :)

—

Hey Nonnys!

I’m going to do these ones in the form of mini-drabbles, similar to the scenario portions of the previous request.

Also, for those who want it, here’s a link to Part I (the headcanons): https://freyaluciscaelum.tumblr.com/post/156641734374/yo-whats-up-how-you-doing-i-love-your-blog-and

Though I am writing this from the third person POV, I’m still using the ( Y / N ) name for the sister character… mostly because I’m too lazy right now to come up with a name for her whoops.

Warning: Spoilers

—

Noctis -

His stomach dropped as Ignis continued to read from the newspaper headline. Insomnia had fallen. The impossible had happened.

His father was listed as dead. Hell, HE was listed as dead.

“What of (Y/N)?” he asked.

Ignis skimmed the rest of the article quickly before shaking his head. “It doesn’t say.”

Noctis dropped back into the chair, considering his options. He needed to go back to Insomnia. He needed to see if what they had reported was true. The logical part of his brain knew that it was impossible for multiple news outlets to lie about something as big as this… But there was an even larger part of him that needed to see it with his own eyes.

xxxxxx

Once they cleared the tunnel, there stood Lestallum. Noctis’s stomach continued to do flips as Ignis turned down into the parking area. They’d managed to get in touch with Iris the previous day and discovered she and the princess had made it safely to Lestallum following the fall of Insomnia. Now it was just a matter of getting there to see with his own eyes.

He jumped out of the car almost before it had stopped. He’d nearly met his end since Ignis had started to roll up the top of the car and it nearly hit the prince. But the dark haired man didn’t care. He had a specific destination in mind.

The hotel felt like the furthest landmark from where they’d parked, but Noctis was prepared to cross the entirety of Eos to see her.

And there she stood. She stood with Iris, her long black hair tied back in a braid, her bright eyes shining as she caught sight of her brother. The moment she spotted him, she took off running toward him. She launched herself at him, a sobbing mess as she buried her face in his shirt.

“All the reports had said you were dead, but I KNEW it wasn’t true!” she wailed.

Noctis held her tight in his arms, rocking her slowly as he pet her hair.

“I’m here, I’m okay… I’m here…” he whispered, moisture filling his own eyes.

—

Prompto -

Insomnia had fallen.

The words continued to echo in his head as he collapsed into a chair, his eyes growing distant. His little chickadee… Out of everyone he’d left behind, she was the only one who mattered. Hell, he didn’t even care if his parents had made it out alive or not. Only SHE mattered.

And there was a good chance that she didn’t make it.

When Noctis insisted that they go back, he was more than on board with the idea. He had to see the city with his own eyes. He had to see if there was some dim possibility that she was alive and had somehow made it out of the city.

His world felt cold and dark as they drove to the border that would have led to Insomnia. Imperial soldiers patrolled the tunnels that would have led them into the city, so they stuck to the rough terrain until they’d come upon a cliffside that looked over the city. The destruction was easy to see even from the distance and Prompto felt the life slowly drain out of him. It felt like a part of him had died as he stood there looking over the place that had once been their home.

“(Y/N)…” he whispered softly.

xxxxxx

He’d never given up hope. Though he couldn’t enter the city and look for her, he still refused to accept that she was dead.

The one thing that had brightened Prompto’s spirits had been the idea that they’d be stopping by a Chocobo outpost. It had been so long since he’d seen Chocobos and he was sure that seeing them would help ease his heavy heart.

His little chickadee had always loved Chocobos.

As they approached the outpost, Prompt froze. He heard the sound of a young woman’s voice singing a song he thought he’d never hear again. It was the Ode to Chocobo, as she called it, and she’d always loved singing it when she was around Chocobos.

He rushed ahead of the group in the direction of the voice and froze. There she stood, feeding a Chocobo. Her long brunette hair fell loose down her back and she was dressed simply… but she was there and alive.

“(Y/N)?” he managed to choke out.

She turned around and her eyes widened before she let out a shriek and launched herself at him. Prompto fell to the ground, but clutched the girl against him as they both cried, babbling at each other as they sobbed happy tears.

—

Gladio -

Gladio managed to keep his composure even after Ignis had read the headlines… but all he could focus on was thoughts of his family. If the King was dead, it surely meant his own father had to have met his end. Clarus would have fought until his last breath before anyone even came near Regis.

But what made his stomach tighten was the thought of something happening to Iris or (Y/N). He knew both girls were tough in their own ways… but hearing how bad the destruction was in Insomnia…

He’d tried both their numbers at least a hundred times each during the journey from Galdin Quay back to Insomnia with no answer. Each time he heard their voices on their voicemails, his stomach dropped again. He didn’t let it show on his face, but it could easily be seen in his eyes that he was prepared to mourn.

Seeing the city with his own eyes nearly did him in, but he continued to stand strong and tall for Noctis.

xxxxxx

“YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS TO LESTALLUM NOW OR I WILL NEVER SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN!”

Gladio couldn’t help but chuckle as they pulled into the city. Iris had been relieved to hear Gladio had been okay, but (Y/N) demanded to see her brother immediately and then hung up the phone. Iris had texted him a short time later to let him know exactly where they were staying.

As they approached the hotel, Gladio barely saw the little ball of energy before she nearly tackled him. She launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his torso, as she sobbed loudly against his shoulder. He chuckled, though a bit of moisture touched his own eyes, as he rocked her.

“Hey hey, no tears. I thought you were too tough to cry,” he teased as he rocked her, one hand coming up to touch her hair.

“SHUT UP!” she shrieked against his shoulder before letting out another choked sob.

—

Ignis -

Ignis sat in the restaurant lobby for a long time, reading and rereading the headline on the newspaper over and over again. He just simply couldn’t process the concept that Insomnia had fallen. He’d had a strange feeling from the moment he’d heard some sort of treaty was going to be had… But he’d never thought that this sort of extreme could even happen.

Before he could bring himself to speak to his friends, he needed to process the information himself first. He knew that Noctis would likely look to him for guidance and he needed to be prepared for that moment… but right now, he needed to process the idea that his family could be dead.

He remembered every word of protest she’d spoken and a small part of him had wished that he’d never left… but a larger part of him had simply wished he’d brought her along so he could ensure her safety.

With a heavy heart, he bottled it all away and stood to go into the bedroom to break the news to the others

xxxxxx

Vyv had wanted them to go to Galdin Quay and get a picture of Angelgard for one of his latest articles. It wasn’t the first time they’d gone off on some trivial quest, but they were in desperate need of gil if they were wanting to spend the night anywhere decent.

What Ignis hadn’t expected to see was a familiar face behind the counter of the hotel resort. She stood with Coctura, helping the older woman work on a meal she’d been preparing. Her eyes turned upward as she spoke.

“Welcome to–” Her words died upon seeing Ignis on the other side of the counter. The siblings just stared at each other, mouths gaping. They were both at a loss for words.

Then tears filled her eyes and she flung herself over the counter to wrap her arms around her brother’s neck. Ignis clutched her tight, burying his face against her shoulder.

“Oh Ignis… Oh Six, you’re alive,” she whimpered.

“As are you… As are you…” he whispered, clutching her tighter.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #ffxv spoilers #oneshots #drabbles #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #Anonymous

40 notes · View notes

blueradiokid-blog1 · 7 years

Text

the story of my gender and its links to mental illness and stuff

Hey guys. I’d just like to put up a trigger warning for a lot of stuff. If you think you may be in danger or triggered if you read this, then please don’t and if you ever need someone to talk to about that then message me. I’d be more than happy to help you.

When I was six, someone asked me what I want to be when I grow up. I didn’t really know what job I wanted to have at the time, but I knew one thing: I wanted to be a boy. So I said: “I want to be a boy” which scared the hell out of my mom. She’s really not accepting of anyone in the LGBT community, but she tries to respect them anyways (even though I have a feeling she’s not actually trying). From a really young age, I knew I was interested in girls more than boys (I did end up developing one boy crush in my life, but it really wasn’t serious at all) and at that time, even though gay marriage had been legal in Canada for a long time, nearly everyone I knew looked down on that and anything other than straight and cis. I started developing self esteem issues about that in grade three when I had a crush on my best friend (who later abandoned me) up until grade seven (that was when she started hating me because I cut my hair and “made her uncomfortable with my boyish manor”). Basically, when I started trying to be myself and working on self love, she hated me for it and grade seven was when my plans of trying to be a normal teenager all came to a crashing halt.

For the longest time, I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Not wanting to be a girl even though I was born that way. I didn’t know what transgender was. In grade six, I discovered it and realized that that was the name for what I was. At the time, there was also a trans boy in my school. He was like, my mentor, even though I only spoke with him like, once in the two years he was at my school (he’s a year older than me, he graduated last year). My uncle came over one day and I told him about the boy at my school. He said that it’s a totally normal and okay thing and he explained that he knew a boy who had a girl body, but the mind of a boy. My mom told me that that’s not natural and it’s not okay. I asked her why, and she said it’s because boys can’t have girl bodies. I argued with her for a long time and eventually gave up, and shortly after that is when I found out what trans was online. I finally knew what I was, but I felt horrible about it because I knew that the majority of my family would hate me for it.

This is where things start getting ugly. On December 27th, 2014, I noticed I was, er...developing. I remember the day because I cried. I was convinced that because I was a boy mentally and emotionally, somehow I wouldn’t go through girl puberty. It was at a party, too, and I cried in the washroom for like, ten minutes and cried more when I got home. I started binding with duct tape and ace bandage which let me say, IS NOT SAFE AT ALL. DON’T BIND WITH DUCT TAPE OR ACE BANDAGE! Anyways, back to the story. I was already suffering from severe anxiety, but this made everything worse. I spiraled into a bottomless pit of depression in seventh grade because my dysphoria was getting worse and worse the older I got. I hated everything about myself. I had long hair and I was forced to wear clothes I didn’t feel comfortable in. I started cutting myself which was possibly the worst decision I’ve ever made. When that started to happen, I tried making myself happy. I cut my hair shorter to my shoulders and that made me feel a bit better (I wanted to go shorter but my mom wouldn’t let me at the time), but what made me really down was that friend I liked. She stopped talking to me because I cut my hair and I was depressed. And that made me even more depressed.

November rolls around and I’m really, really sad. I started hiding my tools in my wallpaper. I became so addicted to punishing myself that I brought them to school and hid them in my multiple sports bras so I could cut in the boy’s bathroom stalls. Yes, I did get away with it. One day my mom went on a rant about how much it upset her that young people feel the need to change their gender and they must be mentally ill, and that was when I really broke. That same night she even found out I’d been binding. I waited till everyone was asleep that night and tried killing myself. Everything went downhill from there, especially in December. I’d also stopped eating from the loss of appetite and body insecurity and ended up fainting in math class. I regularly fell asleep in that class because of sleep deprivation and boredom, so I guess everyone just thought it was that. Please take care of your body, it’s the only one you have and the only one you ever will get.

In December, I tried to stop cutting. But of course, I didn’t succeed. I stopped talking for a long time, in fear of a Freudian slip and because I hated how I sounded like a girl. I got even worse and I was really mad I made the suicide attempt. On December 27th that year, I tried cutting off my breasts with a goddamn kitchen knife. The day was timed intentionally. It hurt so damn badly that it hurts just thinking about it. There were noticeable scars on the sides and bottom and it didn’t make me feel any better about anything. I’ve since used scar cream and very shockingly, it’s barely noticeable, but I’ll never forget it, even if there’s no scar. In this month I also started using nutmeg to get high. I even smoked it once when no one was home. I was twelve and already addicted to some sort of drug. My addiction to nutmeg is still something I’m struggling with, but I’m really trying to stop.

Then it was 2016. I was determined to be happy. I started joining LGBT support forums and looking to things online for comfort and it really helped. I even had this internet friend that I was insanely in love with who helped me through a lot and in January, I stopped cutting (thank god). To this day, they’re one of my best friends in the universe (ily my friend, you know who you are). March was a pretty crappy month for me though. I didn’t really have many real life interactions. But March is a month that means something to me for two reasons: 1. a lot changed and 2. it’s the month MCR broke up (cries). In March, I decided to ignore my mom about my hair situation and whip out the scissors and cut my hair all short and emo-like. I intentionally cut it bad so that she would take me to a hair dresser to get it cut even shorter. Surprisingly, she didn’t hate me for it.

Summer was crap. The hot weather made it uncomfortable to bind and the only shorts that fit me and didn’t make me awfully dysphoric were capris. I totally hermit-ed it out. I mean, it could have been worse, but I just got really sad from everything.

The end of 2016 is when things started getting better. I found friends who accepted and supported me in my gender confusion (I recently came out as gender queer and gynesexual) and I love them for that. The bump in the road that I had to wherever I am now was in January when I tried killing myself again on the day that marked me a year clean. Gotta start counting again I guess -_- But that’s not the point of why I’m writing this.

I’m writing this because today I felt awfully dysphoric and I hated everything about myself once again. But I looked at how far I’ve come. It’s been over a year since I tried transitioning. I’m still sad a large amount of the time but hey- at least I’m not sad all the time anymore.

To anyone out there struggling, trans or cis or anything: there’s more to life than being sad. There’s more to life than following what you’re told to do or what you were assigned in life or at birth in fear of disappointing other people which I’m honestly still struggling with, but I’m trying. I really am. There’s more to life than hating yourself and down-talking everything you do and avoiding people because you’re too scared to speak, whether that be anxiety or because you hate how it sounds or both. Your voice is important and it’s the only one you have. So use it. You have the power to speak up and stand up for what is right and to be yourself, you’ve just got to find it underneath all the rubble.

#trans #trans body pos #transgender #ftm #suicide prevention #trans suicide prevention #depression #anxiety #self harm #recovery #healing

5 notes · View notes

xb-squaredx · 7 years

Text

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Review: The Joy of Discovery

By now, most everyone has heard about how amazing Breath of the Wild is, if all the acclaim and 10/10 reviews are any indication. I’m not exactly striking while the iron is hot or likely telling anyone anything they don’t already know, but I’d like to take this review to express my thoughts on this wonderful game all the same. Most of my reviews are somewhat…clinical, I feel. I dissect something piece by piece. The story was good, the gameplay was bad. This is why it was bad, etc. But for Breath of the Wild, I want to try something a little different and talk more about how I felt during the game than focus on all of the stuff in the game. Partially because there is a LOT of stuff in this game and we’d be here all day if I went at it like I usually do, and partially because this game fills me with the kind of joy and wonder that I haven’t felt from a game in a very, very long time.

This game is many things: it is a massive 3D open world game, a game that deliberately defies the conventions of the Zelda games that came before it, and a game that emphases the joy of discovery. Constantly throughout the game I am seeing and learning new things about the world and rules that govern it. Cries of “I could do that?!” have been constant in my time with the game, alongside excited (and sometimes terrified) squeals of “What’s happening?!” Breath of the Wild is a game that is constantly giving, secrets abundant. In the past, open-world games have been called “sandbox games,” games that drop you off in a big ol’ sandbox to play and shape the world around you, and that’s a great way to describe Hyrule this time around. Ravaged by a being known as the Calamity Ganon for 100 years, by the time Link gets around to saving the day, much of Hyrule has been largely overtaken by wilderness, not to mention monsters. It truly is a vast world, larger than several other high-profile open-world games out there, but Breath of the Wild doesn’t just go for scope; it goes the extra mile to make it a world worth exploring.

From forests of many different shapes and sizes, to snowy mountains, volcanos and deserts, there’s plenty of variety within the vast reaches of the game. After what amounts to the tutorial section is completed and players are given all of the tools needed to survive the rest of the game, you are given the option to go wherever you want. It’s even possible to make a beeline straight for the final boss, but good luck beating it that way. Link starts with nothing, in his underwear at that, and from moment one you’re basically on your own. Hyrule is treacherous and while it’s true you can go anywhere…if you aren’t prepared for what lies ahead, you’ll end up dead.

Breath of the Wild is unquestionably the hardest 3D Zelda yet, and that’s due in no small-part to the fact that everywhere you go, there’s something trying to kill you. From the many enemies you fight, to nature itself, it’s quite dangerous to go alone. I learned the hard way that enemies don’t just move fast and hit hard, but they’re also relatively smart too. My first encounter in the game with the common Bokoblin enemies didn’t go nearly as smoothly as I planned. Armed with fragile tree branches, I came upon a group of three. I successfully snuck up on them and attacked, but was only able to dispatch one before my weapons broke. I was able to snag one of their bows, only to discover I hadn’t gotten any arrows. My options were limited, so I ran away. I ran away from what amounted to the basic Goomba of the game. Constantly throughout my adventure, the enemies have proven clever and I’ve had to step up my game to best them. Think you can cheese them out by bombing them when they give chase? They’ll kick your bombs back at you so they blow up in your face. Fighting near a campfire, they might light their wooden weapons on fire for an extra edge. Should you catch an enemy unarmed, they’ll make for the closest weapon they can find and use it to good effect, and quite a few will improvise if no weapon is available. And so it becomes apparent that good tactics win the day.

When approaching any given enemy encounter, there are tons of ways to deal with them. I could just run in guns blazing and beat them all down, or I could pick them off from afar with my bow. Better yet, use a well-placed Fire Arrow on some exploding barrels to take them all out at once. Or I could light the dry grass on fire and let that do the work for me. Or push a rock down a cliff and have it stomp them flat. And on top of all of that, I could choose to be stealthy and run in, steal their weapons (and maybe the treasure they’re guarding) and run off before they even know I’m there. Keep in mind there’s likely ten other ways I could tackle the same scenario I’m not even thinking of, and that should give you an indication of how open-ended a lot of this game is.

This extends to exploration too. I could run through the entire game, or I could tame a wild horse (among other things) to ride through areas a bit faster. You can sail on rafts, or use your Cryosis rune to make ice pillars to cross watery sections. You can climb on almost anything in the game, provided you have enough stamina and then use a Paraglider to get down safely or cover large gaps in no-time. The world design is top-notch in this regard, giving you plenty of ways to get to most locations, and giving you plenty of locations to visit. At almost any random point on the map if you pan around, you’ll likely find something of interest to travel to, and you’ll likely get lost when something else catches your attention on the way to your destination. Breath of the Wild is the kind of game where it’s FUN to be lost, to let yourself be distracted. Some of my favorite moments in the game have often been on the journey to places, and not where I ended up.

When journeying to an important plot-related city, I was suddenly in a small bit of forest and unknowingly in the midst of an enemy camp. A camp filled with archers armed with Shock Arrows. From the darkness streaks of lighting came at me from all directions. Too many archers to count, no way to know where was safe. I could only run and hope for the best. Then there’s the time my horse and I tag-teamed an enemy in a moment that can probably never be replicated. Or the time I took on a skeleton monster while riding a bear. That was on fire. This is the kind of game you can get together with friends and gush about, trading stories. It might just be the only way you can find out about some of the more nuanced systems in the game or learn of an NPC’s existence. Having a game that doesn’t just completely bare itself is kind of…refreshing, as I feel a sense of elation every time I learn something new.

Breath of the Wild seems to be designed with the approach of a Zelda game, but following real-world rules when possible. So physics and common sense rule all, and mastering those rules lets you do some cool or funny things. Most of the time. In superhot areas, for example, you can just drop food on the ground and watch it get cooked. Or discover that a Bomb Arrow instantly detonates in your face when it’s that hot. You can use your Magnesis rune to control metal objects in a variety of ways, like using a metal door that’s been ripped off its hinges and make a walkway to a treasure chest…or use the rune to bring the metal treasure chest to you. If you can imagine it, often the game will let you do it. This leads to some comical workarounds, like making makeshift catapults, and in a lot of cases you can completely trivialize puzzles, combat challenges or platforming if you’re smart enough.

Speaking of puzzles, they’re a big part of the Zelda series, and some might be wondering how this game handles them. Outside of the few major story missions (which are still optional anyway!), traditional dungeons are largely absent in favor of Shrine Trials. Scattered all across Hyrule are shrines that house various trials within. Rarely you’ll find a combat trial or, rarer still, shrines that give you rewards straightaway, since getting to said shrine was enough of a challenge in the first place. Most of the time, though, they’re bite-sized dungeons, usually one or two rooms dedicated to a single puzzle or theme. As with the rest of the game, you can approach most of these puzzles in any variety of ways, some of which might not be intentional but were left in the game anyway. With more than 100 of these things, some aren’t all that fun or memorable, but they usually make me feel clever when I’m done with them, so they’re alright in my book. Acting as fast-travel points doesn’t hurt either, and you don’t even have to SOLVE them to warp to them!

Combat is a fairly chaotic experience, quite messy at times, but in a good way. You often have to adapt, and even when you think you have a plan, it can go awry, so you best be flexible. Link can use a bunch of different weapons now: from swords to spears, hammers, axes and more, with the bow and arrow being incredibly useful. You can find weapons anywhere; some are in chests, others can be found out in the open, or swiped from enemies. Generally, any weapon an enemy can use, Link can use (and vice-versa, so watch out!) But don’t get too attached, as they all break eventually. The weapon durability in this game is pretty much love-it-or-hate-it. For what it’s worth, I think as a concept it’s fine, but can be a tad extreme. It makes every weapon feel brittle, and often I dislike getting weapons from a treasure chest as a result. Coupled with this, you don’t have a lot of inventory space for weapons at the start and though that can be GREATLY alleviated later on, the actual process of upping that inventory can be kind of tedious and hard to figure out…or rather, hard to find the NPC that’ll let you do it. But the game, again, has weapons EVERYWHERE, so I never had to worry about being left defenseless. The Bayonetta-esque Flurry Rush attack is great, a reward for dodging at the perfect moment, and add to that a satisfying parry and combat’s solid.

Exploration makes or breaks these types of games, but Breath of the Wild largely nails it. I already mentioned how the game’s world is designed to almost always point you in the direction of something worthwhile, but it bears repeating. From interesting locales, to treasure, to enemy camps, there’s always something going on. At times, I’ll even stumble upon NPCs out and about when they get attacked by a pack of monsters, so I’ll divert from my route and help them out. There are a variety of sidequests you can engage in, some even unlocking shrines that are otherwise hidden. The areas you visit often have such life in them, so many small details coming together to create a genuine world that I loved exploring and being a part of it all.

That attention to detail shows real craftsmanship at work with Breath of the Wild, and those little touches often impressed me, endearing the game to me even more. From the fact that Link stubs his toe if he kicks open a chest without any boots on, to the NPCs having set routines you can follow them on, there seems to be no limit to the variables in this game. This extends to the weather too, and the time of day. At times it can be kind of annoying though. During rain storms, surfaces become slick and almost impossible to climb. In a game where climbing is pretty much THE way to get around places, sometimes the only way, it really is frustrating when some rain rolls in, usually right when you don’t want it to. Thunderstorms, while rarer, are also causes for concern. Lighting will strike down at times, and if you have on anything metal, you’ll get shocked too…and it’ll hurt. It’s not so bad if you have some wooden weapons or non-metallic armor to switch to, but there have been times I’ve had to pretty much become defenseless due to the rain and lightning. You CAN wait it out, or go a step further and make a campfire to pass the time, but that isn’t always ideal and leads to frustration more often than I’d like.

On the subject of story…it’s kind of a mixed bag. What’s there is genuinely interesting; we’re experiencing a Zelda story dealing with the fallout of the bad guy winning, for one. The characters you meet during the key quests of the game are often interesting and some (including a certain prince) have already endeared themselves to fans. And yet, there’s barely anything to them. This largely comes down to the game mostly giving you breadcrumbs of story, strewn about various landscapes that will trigger a memory in Link, and a cutscene for the player. These memories are the primary way we see Zelda fleshed out as a character, and her interactions with Link are great, right up there with Skyward Sword’s own Zelda (my personal favorite at the moment). And yet, there’s not a lot there to work with unfortunately, which makes it all the more confusing why THIS is the Zelda game that decided to use voice acting. I’ve seen a lot of people bashing the English voices, but I honestly don’t understand the complaints; the delivery seems fine and the voices are fitting enough….my sole complaint is that there’s so LITTLE of it. A character will be introduced, speak a few lines of dialogue…and then go back to the text boxes of old. Major cutscenes get spoken lines, but again, they are few and far between. Considering you can skip pretty much ALL of this if you really wanted to though, I can see why there wasn’t that big of an emphasis on it, but it’s still a shame.

And lastly, as fun as the game is, as much as its game world design is a triumph and the way it rewards creativity is to be commended…it does have some technical issues. No matter which version you play, there are some frame drops here or there, especially in more hectic scenarios. For the record, I’m playing the Wii U version and from what I’ve read, the Switch version isn’t all that different, so if you’re desperate to play it and don’t want to get a new console to do so, you’ll be fine in the Wii U’s corner. That said, the fact that the game can stutter and freeze whenever I fight a Moblin is worrying, as is the 10-15 second loading it has to do if you ever hit the HOME button and go back again.

With all of this said…and I said a lot more than I intended to…these flaws don’t really bother me much. The game’s high points are so high, these come off more like nitpicks than general problems. That won’t necessarily hold true for others (like say….a certain Mr. Sterling), but that’s the case with me. I won’t ever call it some flawless masterpiece; the durability issues, the annoying weather and the fact that you can’t pet the adorable dogs ARE flaws…but they’re miniscule imperfections in a beautiful gem of a game as far as I’m concerned. My time with Breath of the Wild has been…magical. A breath of fresh air (I just HAD to say it!) for the Zelda series and for games as a whole. Few games have gripped me as tightly as this one has. It’s the kind of game you can play all day and forget to eat, a weekend gone in the blink of an eye. As it stands, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild is a fantastic game I can’t recommend enough. Just like A Link to the Past and Ocarina of Time before it, I have a feeling it’ll be fondly remembered for years to come and will likely heavily influence the Zelda games that come after.

Until next time.

-B

#xb-squaredx #blog #review #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #link #zelda #ganon #wii u #nintendo switch

1 note · View note

socialjusticeartshare · 4 years

Text

Despite Warnings, Trump Moves to Expand Migrant Family Detention

Tiny prison uniforms were replaced with T-shirts. Health care and schooling improved. Experts say there is still no safe way to incarcerate families.

DILLEY, Texas — On a burning hot day last summer at the South Texas Family Residential Center, a federal detention facility for immigrant families, Kenia and her son, Michael, 11, were hunched over a foosball table in an air-conditioned recreation room when Michael dropped to the floor and started sobbing. He curled his body into a ball and writhed as if he were in pain.

The other parents and children in the room looked up from their jump ropes and boomboxes as Kenia knelt down and pleaded into Michael’s ear: Would he please go back to their room before the guards noticed him?

“I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be here,” Michael shouted, his eyes clenched.

The date of this particular meltdown, Kenia can’t remember — not because it wasn’t memorable, but because it was one of many times her son broke down during the four months they were detained after arriving in the United States.

Kenia also felt like she was falling apart, unsure of what would happen to them. Guards had warned her that if Michael continued to misbehave, they would be punished, which she assumed meant being sent back to Honduras.

“We were always being watched,” she said.

The experiences of migrant families like Kenia’s who were held for months behind the locked gates of a secure facility offer insight into what thousands of others could face if the Trump administration succeeds in creating one of the few long-term incarceration systems for families in the developed world.

Amid a wide-ranging campaign to discourage migration to the United States, President Trump has vowed repeatedly to end the practice he calls “catch and release,” under which migrants are allowed to live freely in the United States while their lengthy immigration cases are in process.

The administration wants to expand the system of secure facilities where migrant families can be incarcerated for months or longer. In late November, Justice Department lawyers appealed a federal judge’s decision that blocked the government’s attempt to eliminate a 20-day time limit on most family detentions.

If the appeal is successful, Kenia and Michael’s experience of being detained for months — the result of a legal fluke that left them institutionalized far longer than current standards allow — could become the norm. Facilities like the one at Dilley, which is run by the private prison company CoreCivic, could multiply to incarcerate more than 15,000 parents and children across the country.

The practice of jailing migrant families has been fiercely debated over three administrations, in part because of years of scientific consensus that detaining children, even with their parents, can cause permanent developmental damage.

“They have more difficulty learning, they have more difficulty socializing,” said Amy J. Cohen, a child psychiatrist who works with the organization Physicians for Human Rights and has served as an adviser on legal cases over family detention.

Research at existing family detention centers found heightened levels of stress, which can damage neurons and lead to smaller brain masses in children who have been detained for long periods.

After controlling for trauma, age and country of origin, Dr. Cohen said, “It becomes extremely clear that it is detention which is the variable which is creating, literally, mental illness in these children.”

The Trump administration says that conditions in the family facilities are better than what many migrants left in their home countries, and last year it announced a plan to more than quintuple the number of family detention beds in the country. There is currently space for about 3,500 detainees at the three existing centers in Pennsylvania and Texas.

Canada and much of Europe process migrant families in the way the United States does currently, with most detained only temporarily on the way into or out of the country. Under the Trump administration’s plan, the United States would join Australia to become only the second country in the world with a policy to detain migrant families through the end of their legal cases — often for months or years.

Kenia and Michael were among dozens of families who lived at the South Texas Family Residential Center for months beyond the legal limit of 20 days because they had previously been separated under the administration’s “zero tolerance” policy and were being held while their lawyers sued the government over their asylum cases.

Kenia and her son, Michael, at their home in Brooklyn. After four months of incarceration, she says both she and her son deteriorated mentally and are still recovering nearly a year later.Credit...Todd Heisler/The New York Times

The New York Times was allowed during a visit to Dilley to interview two parents who were detained there with their children. Kenia and Michael were interviewed after they were released. All of the families asked that their last names not be used in order to avoid endangering themselves or their immigration cases.

Within days of their arrival, the parents said a comfortable facade began to crumble. They held their breath inside the smelly cafeteria and waited in long lines in the heat to get medicine for fevers or colds. Their children resisted going to school after they discovered the curriculum repeated after 20 days. During school hours, the mothers could meet with their lawyers or knit for hours. Sometimes Zumba class was offered.

The weeks felt like months, they said, and boredom and uncertainty weighed on them constantly.

A woman named Cindy who was detained at Dilley for four months before being released said her 8-year-old son Jostin refused to eat while they were there and would vomit when she tried to force him into the dining hall.

Another, Patricia, said her daughter Christy had tried to kill herself inside the facility and was put on anti-anxiety medication and sedatives. Once a bubbly teenager, Christy cried every day they were detained and suffered from dizzy spells because she also refused to eat, her mother said.

“It’s like I don’t know her anymore. She has changed so much,” Patricia said.

Kenia and Michael landed in Dilley in July 2018 after they left Honduras to get away from a man who Kenia said had started to stalk her. He physically attacked her and threatened to kill her and Michael. When she threatened to go to the police, the man told Kenia that the police were his friends.

They escaped to the United States. And though he had struggled in the months leading up to their detention at Dilley, within days of arriving at the five-acre compound southwest of San Antonio surrounded by a high concrete-and-chain-link fence, he began to unravel. He blamed Kenia for their detention but, after he saw her scolded by guards, declared that she was clearly not in charge and refused to listen to her.

“The more I would try to calm him down,” Kenia said, “the worse he would get.”

Other families were struggling, too, and the children’s outbursts seemed to trigger one another.

A 6-year-old boy living in their dorm repeatedly grabbed his mother by the hair, choked her and threatened to kill her in front of the roommates, Kenia said. The boy’s mother explained to the group they had fled Guatemala to get away from his father, who had done the same thing to her in front of the boy.

Reforms and a Bleak Assessment

Unlike other types of migrant detention centers that have drawn scrutiny for their conditions — like Border Patrol stations and children’s shelters overseen by the Department of Health and Human Services — the facilities used for longer-term detention of families have received little public attention.

Established at a site in Pennsylvania under President George W. Bush, they were initially seen by some as a way to help incoming migrants by providing shelter and food to people who arrived without plans for how they would establish themselves.

But after an unexpected surge in families crossing the border, officials began to suggest that incarcerating the migrants for long periods of time could be an effective way to discourage others from following behind them.

Two new detention facilities were opened in Texas in 2006 and New Mexico in 2014; both closed after lawsuits and government inspections found that children were rapidly losing weight because of inedible food and poor medical care.

The scrutiny prompted changes to the standards for family detention. Tiny prison uniforms for children were replaced with T-shirts and jeans, and private bathrooms were installed in place of open-air, mixed-gender toilets. The current standards require schooling that follows state education standards and on-site medical care.

Jeh Johnson, who served as Homeland Security secretary under President Barack Obama, created an advisory committee of experts to suggest reforms that would make the system even more humane.

Instead, they concluded that there was no safe way to detain families and in 2016 voted unanimously to recommend that the system be shut down.

Expanding the System

The plans to phase out family detention that began to take shape during the final months of the Obama administration were immediately reversed when Mr. Trump took office.

The administration sought funds from Congress to expand family detention, but so far the requests have been blocked by the Democratic-controlled House.

The focus has since turned back to continuing litigation over legal restrictions on family detention that the administration is seeking to undo. The appeal filed in late November could eventually reach the Supreme Court, which now has a conservative majority.

Problems in the facilities persist. A toddler’s mother filed suitagainst the government last year, claiming mistreatment and neglect after her 20-month-old daughter, Mariee Juarez, died of a respiratory illness she caught at Dilley.

Late this summer, Matthew Albence, the acting director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, led reporters around the Dilley complex, saying he was “extremely comfortable and extremely proud” of the facility.

The center has space for 2,400 people.Credit...Ilana Panich-Linsman for The New York Times

He and his staff pointed out a library stacked with books and spacious dodge ball courts. “I would say many of these kids, it’s probably the first time they’ve had their own bed, it’s probably the first time that any of them have had access to medical. We know for sure it’s the first time that many of them have had a dental exam,” he said, referring to the conditions that the families had fled.

“This is a very nurturing environment,” he said.

‘He’s Angry Every Day’

After they were released from Dilley in November of last year, Kenia and Michael moved into an apartment in New York paid for by donations to an immigrant advocacy organization started by her lawyer, Kate Chaltain, and her friend, Jean Kim Chaix, after they met Kenia and Michael.

Michael’s mood swings have not improved. Kenia worries the months they spent detained permanently changed him.

“He’s angry every day. He just wants to be alone,” Kenia said. In their home country, he had loved to socialize and play sports with friends. But since they left Dilley, she said, “No park, no friends, he doesn’t want to do anything.”

They are both attending weekly therapy, also paid for by donations, to work through the effects of their detention.

Because Kenia does not have a work permit, she could not afford a present for Michael’s 12th birthday in August. Instead, she presented him with an almond cake from the grocery store and asked him to take a picture to send to their family in Honduras.

Michael had another outburst. He refused the picture and yelled at Kenia. They both started crying and Michael shoved his cake on to the floor.

Article Source

#children at the border #detention for profit #separated at the border #immigrant detention center #immigrant children

0 notes