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axdently · 1 year

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𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑿𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑨 𝑩𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑮𝑬, 𝑺𝑯𝑬/𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑺, 𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑫𝑬

To JESSICA CLAUS, the whole world looks like an open page. with a leap of faith, their ability of HEAT TRANSFERAL grows a little stronger. They are a SHRIKE shade aligned to NO ONE. For NINETY FORTY-FIVE years, they have survived a world of magic with both their CARING and RAMBUNCTIOUS NATURE. They work as a TUTOR / TOY MAKER & STUFFED ANIMAL DOCTOR, but if they could change their fate, they’d want to LEARN TO CONTROL HER POWERS.

─── 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒.

You were ten when your mother passed away, and just a couple of months later, your family would settle in a village called Sombertown. You were the oldest daughter of the Claus family, and because you were born a girl, you soon found yourself taking on the role of your mother; caring for your siblings, making sure they washed up behind their ears, and serving them various meals. You learned to grow up fast, but that heart in your chest still beat with a youthful and playful imagination.

Teaching was your profession, and you gained enrichment from molding the young children of Sombertown. In your spare time, you tend to the needs of their toys, finding creative ways to fix and repair them. You fill their hearts with wonder, despite the cold superstitious subarctic climate. You were raised to shun the practice of magic itself, but you find your warmth burns brighter in those little spurts. Suppressing your magic has lead you to many wars within you–– and eventually everything you touch, feels as if it burns to a crisp.

You've believed that you're cursed because you can never learn to control your magic. Because of the risk of harming others around you, eventually, you fell into caring for toys instead. You're a toymaker, now, with a heart of gold, often falling whimsy to the dreamscape you painted for yourself early on. The warmth in your heart burns for caregiving, and you hope to extend that warmth to any who need it.

─── 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒.

NAME: Jessica Claus NICKNAME: Jessie DATE OF BIRTH: ?? GENDER: Cisgender Woman HEIGHT: 5’7” MARKINGS: freckles just about everywhere, and two braids hanging at her shoulders. TATTOOS: none PIERCINGS: one in each ear. DECORUM: her red boots and when button ups and jeans, or long skirts and sweaters SCENT: lavender & sage from her herb garden leaving tracks from her boots, warm sprinkles of cinnamon vanilla sugar, fresh golden pinecone and fir while walking in the woods, a hint of peppermint, and toasted marshmallows sinking in a cup of hot cocoa. GOALS: Make everyone happy. FEARS: Claustrophobia POSITIVE TRAITS: friendly, excitable, loving NEUTRAL TRAITS: outspoken, tough, & maternal NEGATIVE TRAITS: sassy, stubborn, & rambunctious ZODIAC: Taurus Sun - Cancer Moon - Virgo Rising ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good TEMPERAMENT: Phlegmatic ELEMENT: Fire PRIMARY VICE: Wrath PRIMARY VIRTUE: Patience TROPE: Braids of Action, Mama Bear, The Power of Friendship, Makes Them Look Guilty, Sweet Baker, Tragic Abandoned Toy INSPIRATION: Jessie from Toy Story, Mrs. Claus ( from Santa Claus is Comin' to Town ), an optimism to rival Leslie Knope, in search of truth and justice like Wonder Woman, and a tiny sip of Mrs. Potts' feisty tongue. OCCUPATION: toymaker & stuffed animal doctor ! volunteer work– reading to children, volunteering with the elderly, cuddling babies at the hospital, hanging out in animal shelters - dog-walking at the shelter etc. RESIDENCE: The Bluebell Inn, for now. HOBBIES: sewing, quilting, knitting, scrapbooking, home-making, baking ( breads, cookies, muffins, bars, literally anything sweet ),, cooking ( pinterest recipes ! ),, shooting / practicing shooting ( .45 COLT/.410 DOUBLE BARREL PISTOL) and raising chickens. HABITS: she hums/ whistles to herself when she thinks she’s alone - but when it comes to singing she can never remember words. she really doesn’t mean to but she often interrupts people when she gets too excited !! she always forgets to floss too. she also suffers from must- say-yes-to-everything-itus, so she can often stretch herself too thin ; she also never puts herself first.

─── 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒.

HEAT TRANSFERAL The ability to transfer heat. Users can transfer or move thermal energy from the source to another target. The user can create, shape and manipulate heat by increasing the kinetic energy of atoms and thus making things hotter. The user of this power can focus their heat to any part of their bodies or objects to perform attacks or techniques. VARIATION 1. HEAT MANIPULATION

The user can create, shape and manipulate heat by increasing the kinetic energy of atoms and thus making things hotter, ranging from subjective feeling of heat to absolute heat. It is the flow of energy between atoms themselves. This enables the user to control kinetic energy on an atomic level. From a culinary standpoint, this power excels in providing food among other luxuries. Warm temperatures can also be comforting, especially within colder climates and counteract cold-based illnesses. However, too much heat can make a normal environment become stagnant, sweaty and generally unbearable. It can also induce fainting, Heat Stroke, and unhygienic odors to rise due to Dehydration.

VARIATION 2. HEAT ABSORPTION

Users can absorb heat, while removing it from the source, into their body and use it in various ways, gaining some form of advantage, either by enhancing themselves, gaining the drained power, using it as power source etc., either temporarily or permanently.

VARIATION 3. HEAT BLASTS

The user can release heat to attacks of various shapes and/or intensities, projected from the palm of their hand. Examples: Hand Blasts, Heat Bolts, Heat Breath, Heat Wave Emission, Reflective Attacks. Limitations include: involuntary spurts, exhaustion, and the inability to avoid extreme measures of destruction: fires, dehydration, dry skin, etc.

─── 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘.

1. LAVENDER LOCKET OF JOY: A delicate locket that emits a calming lavender scent. When opened, it releases a soothing aura that boosts the spirits of those nearby, granting them temporary relief from stress and sadness.

2. WHIMSICAL NEEDLE AND THREAD: This enchanted needle and thread set never tangles or breaks, making it perfect for Jessie's sewing and crafting endeavors. It can mend fabrics with a mere touch and even bring life to inanimate objects, creating charming animated toys.

3. WHIMSY WEAVER’S APRON: This enchanted apron is always clean and never seems to wrinkle, no matter how much crafting and baking Jessie does. It grants her the ability to weave a touch of whimsy into her creations, making them extra special and imbued with a touch of enchantment.

4. CUP OF COCOA’S COMFORT: A magical cup that always produces a steaming cup of the most comforting cocoa, tailored to each individual's taste. The first sip grants warmth and rejuvenation, while subsequent sips boost the drinker's morale and energy.

5. AMULET OF ANIMAL EMPATHY: This amulet allows Jessie to communicate with animals effortlessly, forging an unbreakable bond between her and her beloved chickens, woodland creatures, and even the pets of the town.

6. MARSHMALLOW CHARM OF SWEET ENCHANTMENT: Wearing this charming marshmallow-shaped ring grants Jessie the ability to infuse her baked goods with a touch of magic. Anyone who enjoys her treats experiences a surge of joy and positivity, leaving them with a smile that lasts.

7. LASSO OF TRUTH: An enchanted lasso with intricate designs, representing Jessie's commitment to truth and justice. When thrown, it compels the captured target to speak only the truth. It can be a powerful tool for uncovering secrets and dispelling deception.

8. HARMONY QUILT OF UNITY: A magical quilt that, when wrapped around a group of individuals, fosters harmony and cooperation among them. It dispels negative emotions and promotes teamwork, making it ideal for diplomatic endeavors.

─── 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

1. COMFORTING AURA: With a wrinkle of her nose, Jessie creates a soothing warm aura around an ally, granting them temporary comfort. The aura vibrates in a warm-yellowy glow, and can make other’s drowsy if they focus too much on the light.

2. HEALING TOUCH: Jessie's touch can heal wounds dealt by coldness/ freeze and restores vitality to an ally, while curing minor ailments.

3. COZYING CLUTCH: When using this spell, Jessie's touch becomes a warm embrace. She envelops an ally in a hug, granting a temporary shift in mood.

4. GUARDIAN’S SHIELD: By casting this spell, Jessie summons a warm, protective barrier around allies, granting them resistance to cold damage.

5. HEALING WHISPERS: Jessie whispers soothing words that boost morale. This spell temporarily blocks negative self-talk, low self-esteem, and intrusive thoughts.

5. JOYFUL ECHO: When casting this spell, Jessie creates a harmonious echo of laughter and mirth that reverberates through the area. Anyone who hears it is filled with a surge of positivity. This is to be used lightly, since the echoes have been known to create a drunken demeanor.

6. SOOTHING SONG: By humming a soothing melody, Jessie casts this spell to calm turbulent emotions and induce peaceful sleep in a group of creatures, or humans and aiding them to step into sugarplum dreams rather than nightmares.

7. CRAFTING WHIRLWIND: With a joyful spin, Jessie invokes this spell to conjure a whirlwind of crafting materials and tools, even kitchenware. In the midst of the swirling chaos, she can often grow lost in her own supplies

9. GIFT OF WONDER ( Never been used- ULT FORM ): When invoking this spell, Jessie and her allies undergo a fantastical transformation, gaining temporary flight, enhanced charisma, and a burst of magical creativity that allows them to solve problems in innovative ways. For a limited time, they are immune to negative emotions, gain incredible insight, and are inspired to achieve their greatest potential.

#cag: intro #cagintro #⸻ ��𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓-𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒔 ; INTRO.

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angelsndragons · 3 years

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Day 1

Day 1 of the Caduceus Clay celebration week, folks, so you know what that means: I get to gush about my favorite character. I did warn y’all I would word vomit.

So, what does Caduceus mean to me?

Well.

My brother lives in a separate state and has for several years now. We talked on the phone pretty much every day but we still missed each other a lot. One of the last things he did to me in person was introduce me to D&D. I loved it. It gave me a community away from home and a way to meet new people and form new friendships in new areas. I would tell him all about my weekly game shop adventures, he would tell me about the homebrew campaign he was in online. He also told me about this little show called Critical Role. I, like the dumb oldest sibling I can be, pretty much ignored it, outside letting him talk to me about it and engaging with it secondhand. Then, my brother’s party lost one of their players. They were down to four players and no full casters, just a gunslinger, a barbarian, a monk, and a non-healer warlock. Things started getting dicey. Like, really dicey. He worried with me over how close their fights were getting and how he felt it was only a matter of time until someone legit died and they couldn’t do anything about it. So, I asked, “Well, can you ask them if I could play? You’re looking for someone and we’re looking to try to do something together, it could work out.” Two years later, that campaign is going strong and (thankfully) no one has died yet.

I bring up this context because it matters: I rolled up a level 10 Grave Cleric. I had never played a cleric before but I had wanted to before my game shop sessions fell apart. And here I was, willingly thrown into the deep end of one of the most complex subclasses of one of the most complex classes in the game. And initially, I was not happy with it. Not just because there was a lot to learn but because of sheer mechanics. By rote, I could not keep up with the damage that the rest of my party was doing. At all. My high level spells weren’t doing much more damage than my freaking cantrips and I just felt stuck. I wanted to contribute outside of healing but really just couldn’t. I shared my frustrations with my brother, who, being the little troll he is, said, “Well, you know Critical Role has a Grave Cleric now, right?” So, to start this love fest, Caduceus taught me how to be a better cleric and because of that, I will never be able untangle the character from my relationship with my brother. Even if he died tomorrow or went evil or whatever, I would still be fond of him just for that.

I don’t remember which episode of campaign 2 I first watched all the way through. I know I started paying attention around Fjord’s chicken game and was fully on board with the series by Yasha’s loss in the pit fight. What I do remember is Caduceus. I remember being drawn in by this guy for some reason I still can’t articulate.

Caduceus is a complex character who is difficult to fully understand and love. People have said unkind things about him, about how he is a glorified NPC or that he is boring or that there is just no ‘there’ there or that he should just go home already. I have seen people say that they think Taliesin should go back to the drawing board and come back with a ‘better’ character, one who vibes better with the group or something. And the sad thing is, I can kind of see where these people are coming from. Understanding Caduceus and what Taliesin is doing with him requires people to pay attention to him, to actively think about him both when he is and is not in the spotlight. And that is hard. Because Caduceus is that character who aggressively tries to divert attention from himself. So right away, we have this tension, this push/pull when it comes to engaging with him. And I do love me a challenge in my favorites. Also love the polite but judgmental assholes who have Opinions they would never say but nevertheless own.

For me, Caduceus’ arc has been about duty and desire, what duty means, how to prioritize yourself, and how to grow. Caduceus’ interrogation of identity as it relates to duty and his blossoming as a person fascinate me most. What is your duty, really? What does it mean to find balance in your life? How do you take down the walls you built to protect yourself? Where do you end and where does your duty begin? What does faith look like outside a strictly Western/Christian lens? Can we find ourselves in other people? What does it mean to grow beyond your wildest imagination and the people you love most?

Caduceus begins the show as a passive, apathetic shadow of a man who has cloaked those traits in duty in order to not deal with his feelings. He had basically grown up in a literal paradise on earth where the problems of the world couldn’t reach or affect him. Until they did. Until his family left. Until the Nein crashed into his temple. Caduceus makes the choice to basically leave paradise, at the Wildmother’s urging, sure, and experience the world in all its messy beauty and ugliness. It is nothing like he expected. It is hard, it is cruel, it tries to drown him at every opportunity. It is also good, the animals, the people, the experiences he has. Hearing Marion sing, learning of a lighthouse to the Wildmother (which he does not fully appreciate yet, this light in the dark storm). Caduceus spends his first chunk of episodes waking up, seeing life outside of paradise. I love these early episodes because they demonstrate just how far Caduceus has actually come (can’t imagine this guy buying an overly large pirate hat as a prank or helping the Traveler offload some followers through an elaborate ceremony, for example).

The crux of Caduceus’ midgame story right up until he saves his family is this: You’ve seen the world, young cleric, are you sure you want to continue to save it? You can go home and turn your back on all of this, what makes you stay in this imperfect world with these imperfect people? We see this a lot, in the questions he asks the Gentleman, in his insistence they save Yasha, in his newfound appreciation and companionship in Fjord, in making the Xhorhaus a home, in his dealings with the stone giants, in his determination to help Nott and her family. And this is the part that made me love him because Caduceus doesn’t shy away from these moments or tough questions. Like most of what he does, he contemplates them quietly and lets his actions speak for him. Caduceus allows himself to get involved, to become invested.

Caduceus’ new major arc is his realization that he is not just some vessel, some passive thing through which the Wildmother’s will will flow. No, he learns that he has to make choices, that he can affect change, and that if he wants this messy, beautiful world to get better, he is going to have to do something about it. Not just wait for Her to tell him it is okay. Taking ownership of his future and what that means to him have shaped Caduceus these last thirty or so episodes. Caduceus has blossomed so damn much. He continued with the Nein because he wanted to, and that led to the discovery of the Astral Sea City. (side note: Anyone want to take a gander what would be happening right now if Caduceus hadn’t been with them?) He not only felt his feelings towards the Nein, he began expressing them. From the man who refused to Scry or Send to his family to one who has a friend call up his sister and tell her he will be back, from the man who clung so tightly to his need to be useful to the Nein to one who openly declares how much he loves these people and how reluctant he is to leave them, from a man who wanted to save his home to one who is trying to save the whole damn world, from a man who couldn’t articulate his feelings if you threatened him to one who is trying so hard communicate, from a man who needed saving from his own apathy and grief to one who saves others, this is who Caduceus Clay has become and I for one am excited to see how the next 100 episodes influence him.

Also I cannot end this word vomit without mentioning the fact that Caduceus being aroace and so warm, loving, and caring is so damn important. Because it is; there are too many people out there who think aros/aces are loveless robots or fake or whatever. And having this person, this caregiver, this annoying little brother, this compassionate man, to hold up against that kind of hate, ignorance, and indifference means more than I will ever be able to express.

#caduceus clay #cr caduceus #caduceus #caduceus meta #long post #critical role #critical role meta #caduceus clay week #cr campaign 2 #the mighty nein #my meta #it's like fjord said #caduceus inspires me #his arc is there people #he has grown as a person #and i am so dang proud of him

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alrightzuko · 4 years

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Literally can't stop thinking about "You have indeed felt a great loss. But love is a form of energy, and it swirls all around us. The Air Nomads' love for you has not left this world. It is still inside of your heart, and is reborn in the form of new love" and how much the concept of this quote pretty much applies to the main characters within atla, especially in regards to their development and central arcs throughout the series and how it plays a big role in their journey, either on a large scale or a more subtle one.

Aang's is the most obvious and is the original context of this quote. His love for the Air Nomads and their love for him is reborn in his love for Katara and vice versa. These two develop an instinctual bond as soon as they meet and get along very well, providing each other with support in overcoming the trauma, a listening ear when things are rough or standing up for the other when they encounter obstacles, especially ones related to their bending. They supply each other with the home and understanding that has been lost as a result of the war. Aang's love for Sokka can be interpreted in the same way, who forms one of the first bases for Aang's second family after the loss of his entire culture. It's not just that though, there's also the gradual trust in each other's leadership skills, reaching its zenith in their preparations for the invasion of the Fire Nation capital.

Katara's reborn love is likewise Aang's as well, and I think the best way to demonstrate this example is paralleling Aang's actions in the second episode of book one when Zuko and his crew attacked the South Pole and Kya's in the flashbacks of the Southern Raiders. Both are people who meant a lot for Katara and who at that point helped in shaping her view of the world, since Kya raised her and Aang even in the short span they interacted reminded her of the joy of enjoying her adolescence and having fun. Both did not hesitate to offer themselves up for the Fire Nation when it became clear that Katara and the village was in danger and both made a conscious effort to reassure Katara during those sequence of events. Of course, Aang and Kya didn't have the same outcome but that's not the point.

Zuko's is Ursa's and Iroh's. It's not a reborn love in the literal sense but for all intents and purposes, the result is largely similar. While we know from flashbacks that Zuko was very close to his uncle even prior to Iroh losing his son and events leading up to Zuko's banishment, the fact of the matter is that Ursa is shown to be his primary caregiver, the person who works to do whatever they can to shield him from Ozai's abuse and someone who inspires a lot of his conceptions about his self image, particularly his persistence in the face of adversity and failure. Once Ursa is no longer in a position to continue doing so, that role is then taken up by Iroh who continuously makes every effort he can to support Zuko through the worst period of his life, providing the love and care he needs in order to heal, standing against the harm Azula and Ozai attempt to inflict against him (often literally) as well as teaching him the tools he needs in order to continue building his separate identity outside of the toxic ideals of his family. Whether that is in relation to Zuko's bending and the way he's been branded as the less talented and therefore a disappointment or in relation to the imperialist mindset of their country and the royal family by passing on the ideals that Iroh himself learned through his journey of self-reflection.

Sokka actually has two forms of reborn loves, which I realised upon some extensive thinking. The first is by far the more obvious, which is Yue and Suki. Yes, Sokka met Suki first but the order of events lend my argument some weight. It's not just that both are his primary love interests (which they are) but they are ones who influenced Sokka's relationship to his role as a protector and to another extent they were people who he could enjoy himself around on more equal terms since he more often than not is the 'plan guy' within the gaang. Yue's death and his inability to do anything that prevents it enhances his overprotective tendencies and it's no coincidence that he faces this particular issue with Suki on the serpent's pass by his own admission. He's later able to overcome it and start a relationship with Suki without the shadow of that incident hanging down on them (pardon the pun). The other one, which is more subtler and might puzzle some, is Hakoda and Piandao. Hakoda as Sokka's father is his role model, the ideal of the warrior that he strives to live up to and who reassures him of his worth and his pride in him. This guidance is also, to a degree, the part that Piandao plays as his mentor; he helps Sokka gain the confidence needed in himself and imparts lessons that tie in to skills as a warrior. In each of the episodes "Sokka's Master" and "The Guru", Sokka experiences low faith in his abilities and is reassured by Piandao and Hakoda respectively (although Piandao's was much more... confrontational). In the end, the purpose is served. Hakoda cannot be present with the amount that Sokka needs but the love he has for him is found in a new shape in Piandao's mentorship.

Toph experiences her first unconditional love during her childhood with the badger-moles, they are the creatures who accept her and her blindness and they're the ones with whom she gains faith in her earthbending. That love is carried over when she meets Team Avatar, Aang challenges the double identity she built in her life that is in conflict of the image her parents have of her, "the obedient little helpless blind girl", and she decides later to leave her home behind and take a leap of faith so to speak. This decision leads her to be able to build healthy relationships where she's comfortable and secure. Katara teaches her that expressions of femininity and her tough persona don't have to be at odds with each other, and that she can enjoy being pampered and still at the end of the day resume acting herself. And we have many instances where Sokka leads Toph around in places where she needs someone to help her to and Toph is comfortable doing so. It's a development from the Toph we first meet, who rejects aid because she needs to establish her own personhood. She grows to be okay with relying on others in a way that doesn't lessen her own independence.

Suki admittedly gave me a bit of a brain scratcher until I drew upon her biggest relationships, the Kyoshi Warriors and Sokka. Suki is the leader of the group, she's someone who believes in herself and knows her capabilities very well and it's not hard to understand that it's because of her position as Kyoshi Warrior. But more importantly, her fellow comrades offer her a support net. She can rely on them to have her back, just as they did during the attack on Kyoshi Island and in the Earth Kingdom. And after the run in with Azula, Mai and Ty Lee and getting separated in imprisonment, she lost that. Her confinement was isolated from any familiar faces and probably very traumatic. Until Sokka finds her in the Boiling Rock, and she regains the lost sense of partnership. From there until the finale, Sokka and Suki are shown to interact romantically, socially and on the battlefield. They joke and have ridiculous fun together while enjoying the Boy in the Iceberg play and they fight together seamlessly on the gondola, during training on Ember Island and in the Airship battle. This is a testament to the incredible trust they built and the camaraderie they share.

Note that when I say reborn, I don't necessarily mean in strict terms of life and death, which can be applied to more than one character anyway, or in the literal sense of reincarnation. I mean it more as a metaphor, it's a love that has been lost or can not present right now, either temporarily or in a more permanent sense. And I think that is one of the most profound messages the show can impart to such a wide audience. That love is a form of energy around us and even though the person who provided us with that specific kind of love isn't or can't be around anymore to give it to us, their love is so strong that it changes and comes back in a new love. It's not gone, not forever, it's just... different.

#aang #katara #zuko #sokka #toph beifong #suki #iroh #atla meta #atla #avatar the last airbender #team avatar #mymeta #meta #ngl i feel like i stopped making sense half way through

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aflyingcontradiction · 3 years

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The Magnus Archives Relisten: Episode 139 - Chosen

Smart move on your part. They always are, aren’t they? Smart moves. Someday you’re going to push your luck too far, and when you do… well you just better hope it isn’t Jude who comes to collect. - Statement of Eugene Vanderstock

She did and it wasn't. I assume Elias was a more merciful murderer than Jude would have been.

Anyone who talks about “the Blitz spirit” wasn’t there, or wants to paper over their fear with nostalgia. Terrible things happened in the Blackout, and we hurt each other just as much as the Germans hurt us.

You know, I think there's a ring of truth to this line. Even having only delved into this topic on a very shallow level, I am already aware of plenty of - hm, how to put this - internal backstabbing, mostly of the non-violent kind, but I'm pretty sure the other kind existed, too. People in a crisis don't just develop a uniform spirit of solidarity. That's just not how people work. There might be a little bit of solidarity between unexpected people, but where there's an ingroup, there's an outgroup. In a war that may be the people actually bombing you, sure, but it may well be your neighbours who are doing a little bit better than you or who have expressed some doubts about your favourite leader's policies. (On a personal note: I have already seen people talking about the early pandemic days in a way that makes it sound like there was some sort of universal all-encompassing spirit of solidarity and the sheer rose-tintedness of those glasses makes me want to VOMIT. Way to sweep all the crisis-induced interpersonal conflict under a rug and pretend it didn't cause some people horrible pain and trauma. If, a few decades from now, I see anyone using the term "covid spirit" in an analogous way to "Blitz spirit" I swear I'm going to absolutely lose it.)

He wanted a grand inferno, a ritual of apocalyptic burning that would make the firebombing of Dresden look like a sparkler. Which sounded… amazing. But a few of us pointed out that the Allied air force had a tad more firepower than we did, as none of us were likely to make the rank of Air Marshal anytime soon.

Oh god, I would love to be a fly on the wall for THAT conversation, the sheer levels of snark in that room must have been off the scales.

Some objected, said that unless the child was conceived of the flame, it could never be a true incarnation. But they had no idea of how such a conception could possibly even work, so it was decided that it would have to be enough to birth the child by fire.

"But the father was just some guy, the child will never be the true chosen one if she isn't conceived by flame." "Okay, buddy, get back to me when you've figured out how to FUCK FIRE!"

She was quiet, considerate, but prone to fits of violent rage, which, while not unexpected given what burned inside her, still made living in a single location for any length of time untenable.

... "not unexpected given what burned inside her"??? More like "not unexpected given that literally every caregiver she has ever had has been a violent sadist who treated her like a symbol rather than a human being and she has never once experienced actual love and care, learn some basic childcare, you absolute arse!" I'd be prone to fits of violent rage, too!

Arthur tried to frame all this as a test of faith, and declared that those who we lost raising Agnes had been found wanting in their devotion to the Lightless Flame. Prick. She was just a brat.

I have a visceral dislike of the word "brat" because certain people (*cough* my stepdad *cough*) regularly use it as short-hand for "A small child who actually has human needs and expresses them in the only way their still-developing linguistic and emotional abilities will allow them to". And if you disregard the supernatural element, that is pretty much the exact way Eugene uses it here and that, more than the fact that he's a sadistic murderer, makes me want to FUCKING STRANGLE THE GUY!

I took foreign workers, mostly, those with the fewest connections to complicate matters, and the most hopeful dreams of what their life might be.

TMA gets really on-the-nose with its politics in season 5 but it is undeniably political even earlier than that and this isn't exactly what I would call SUBTLE (mind you, this is an observation, not a complaint).

Maybe they assumed it was some long, torturous plan, and she was simply building the kindling for a bonfire of aching loss and suffering such as we had never before seen. And I suppose, in a way, she was. Just not the one any of us expected.

Heh. The worshippers of the Desolation, utterly desolated.

I’m curious to see what it was she did to derail this big ritual, because I’m sure she didn’t pay poor Jack Barnabas to fall in love with Agnes. ... Well, ninety percent sure. - Jon

I see. Jon's starting to have the same "Well, you never know with her" feeling that I do.

God knows. It’s not like I don’t have my own office politics to keep track of.

I feel like Jon is perhaps having his own moment of "Damn, I would need a corkboard and some string to figure this out" about all things Lightless Flame. I certainly am!

Every other Avatar gets to have their feelings burned right out of them, but me? I’ve just got to sit in mine.

That's actually very untrue. Most of the avatars are full to the brim with the feels and you can easily tell that even from the little insight into their psychology that we get through the statements and the occasional personal interaction. So I'm not sure what the hell Jon is even talking about here, but it's clearly some frustrated nonsense.

My impression of this episode

The internal dynamics of the Cult of the Lightless Flame are, quite frankly, fascinating. They're all just stumbling around in separate directions, trying to convince the rest of the cult that their idea of "Asag" is the truth. It's amazing. And then there's Agnes, of course, who is just ... well, I have a soft spot for her. Pushed into a role that was chosen for her before she was even born and only allowed to leave that role on death - a death she chose because she didn't think she could fit that role anymore. Agnes deserved better!

#tma relisten #the magnus archives

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wovenstarlight · 3 years

Text

YWBK update: chapter 26 + liner notes

yesterday will be kinder has updated! you can read chapter 26 here, or start from the beginning here

as always, commentary below the cut

Yoojin🐉😊

watch this space....

In preparation for it, Han Hyunjae temporarily requisitions Yoojin’s laptop and combs through the internet looking for photos of the Hunters that he thinks his family should know about in advance. He goes down one too many internet rabbit-holes, takes way too many screenshots, transcribes a summary of the notes in his future diary, then painstakingly puts everything together into a neat little presentation for them.

picture HHJ reading his fifth article wondering where the sung family heir has disappeared to and being like 👁️👁️👁️👁️

had a little giggle to myself about “future diary” that phrasing was definitely on purpose. will exclusively be referring to it as this now

“Right,” he starts, clapping his hands together, after Yerim’s been sent off to play with Hohyoung.

LHH is so much of a background figure.... i want to see more of himself but he likes his privacy.... he’s got his girlfriend and his baby sister and yoojin who’s wormed his way into his good graces by way of Living In Same House but that’s kinda it....... he’s always lurking in the background instead of showing up on screen. come here hohyoung oppa i just wanna talk

Even if Yoojin’s right, Han Hyunjae still has to protest. [...] But he can’t keep it up when Jiyeon looks at him like that.

KJY has the world’s best Stern Mom Voice and Disappointed Mom Glare and to her great delight they work even on fellow adult HHJ. she will use this power For Evil

The other S-ranks are Moon Hyuna, leader of Breaker Guild, and Bak Mingyu of Hanshin Guild.

OK FOR THIS PART I STRAIGHT FORGOT ABOUT HANSHIN GUILD AND I WAS COUNTING UP ON MY FINGERS LIKE WAIT... IF YERIM WAS THE EIGHTH KOREAN S-RANK WHO WERE THE SEVEN BEFORE HER.... (for those curious they were 1. sung hyunjae, 2. han yoohyun, 3. moon hyuna, 4. song taewon, 5. bak mingyu of hanshin, 6. choi sukwon of MKC, and 7. yoon kyeongsoo of soodam. but. i forgot about the last three altogether.)

“Oh, blond guy,” Yoojin says, unimpressed. “Yeah, I’ve seen him on the news and stuff.”

Top 10 Funny Yoojin Moments (I JUST THINK IT’D BE REALLY FUNNY IF HAN “HAVE I MENTIONED IN THE LAST 5 MINUTES HOW HANDSOME SUNG HYUNJAE IS” YOOJIN DID NOT GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT HIM IN THIS TIMELINE....)

Han Hyunjae takes a moment to double-check that he really doesn’t have Noise Resistance (L), and looks back in time to see Yoojin rubbing at his eyes and glaring at the screen.

HEHEHE...... A SECRET TOOL THAT WILL HELP US LATER

“Hyunjae-yah,” Jiyeon says, looking at the photo of Sung Hyunjae on screen, “this man looks—” “LIKE A PIECE OF WHITE BREAD,” Yoojin bellows. [...] “HYUNG THINKS HE LOOKS GOOD? [...] Oh, god, he kinda does, [...] but like, in a trashy romance novel cover way.” [... Jiyeon] gives the computer screen an assessing once-over. “He looks like the models in cologne advertisements.”

this part of the chapter was planned waaaay back in august 2020 and i actually crowdfunded these descriptions from the s-class server dshblksjdfkblsdfb. the original suggestions (thanks to server members for these):

“bland whitie potato with a slap-on seme personality”

“tacky valentine’s day/mom’s cologne advertisement”

“the face of the dude on the cover of all my mom’s trashy romance novels”

and tbh HYJ does think he genuinely looks good but like, disgustingly good, you know... also Hyung Likes Him so [19 gun emojis]

also me handwaving moment of mild homophobia because like. jiyeon doesn’t know yet AND homophobia is a thing in this world BUT i don’t really wanna do, All That (we already did it with HYJ once), so.

“Do S-ranks get rich?” Yerim asks as she enters, because apparently everyone’s coming for his life today. Han Hyunjae closes his eyes and lies down on the bed while Yoohyun calls out an affirmation over his head. “Then I think— oh! He looks nice!” He cracks open an eye just in time to see her nod. “I think ahjussi should marry him for the eye candy and the money.” She beams very wide. Han Hyunjae closes his eyes again and tunes out the loud conversation going on around him. And wishes, not for the first time, that he’d picked literally any other name when he first got here.

yerim says gay rights cuz she’s like 12 rn and she straight up does not really care. but says it in, like, the most frustrating way possible.

sometimes you just need to lie down even as the world keeps throwing shit at you. just lie down and nap for a little bit. especially when the shit in question is the alias regret you had literally back in chapter one of your 25+ chapter story. this is gonna come back to bite you in the ass Very Fucking Soon babe!!!!

You Oh this is like the 17th one I got wrong I swear this course is trying to kill me

me, flicking on that EPSON brand projector,

(i have. been having a Time of it.)

[Yoojin🐉😊 called you (21:35)]

that’s minutes and seconds babey... you can pretty much guess the content of call from context :(

well, uh. most of call. some internal plot and Realizations happening right at the end of those 21 minutes, 35 seconds. namely:

Yoojin🐉❤️

:-)

or i dunno you can be my roommate and we can both leech off my rich and prosperous baby brother!

[extremely sad voice] heehoo... they... care each other....

YMW’s parents are kinda shit ngl. they care about him, but unfortunately, that does not show through in their care for him, ykwim? if they just paid attention to what he was actually talented at and encouraged him in his efforts.................

well, he wouldn’t have met HYJ in canon. but he would also have been a lot happier!! and YMW deserves to be happy!!!!!!!! YMW fucking rights!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You When you came with me to drop off Jihui’s standee.

they finally remembered her name sjfbklsjdfbl

Yoojin🐉❤️ OH right i was talking to one of my new commissioners about their piece realized they were an old friend of hyung’s

HEEHOO.... HONKS MY LITTLE CLOWN NOSE yoojin forgot to ask about pronouns but that’s okay they’re figuring that stuff out still

Yoojin🐉❤️ it’s getting late the kids are going to bed i have to turn off the lights

you can take the caregiver out the role of caregiving but he will still think of his baby siblings as his kids

Part of that is changing his behaviour. Hyunjae and Yoojin sit side by side and watch as Suk Simyeong gently coaches Yoohyun on how to interact with others and present a neutral, if not friendly, exterior.

[same voice as ingredience] neurodivergence.....

try and look them in the eye, or at least look somewhere on or near their face, if eye contact is too much

yoohyun, who’s the type to look people in the eye without blinking until they inevitably look away because then they don’t try that eye contact shit again later:

tbh i kinda made up shit for the Training In Formality section i don’t know shit about being Formal and Polite. hope i got it right :pensive:

“He’s not good with touch,” Hyunjae cuts in. [...] “Sorry,” [Yoojin] says apologetically to Suk Simyeong, crossing the room and gently pressing a hand against Yoohyun’s back. The kid slowly stops rocking and leans into the touch as he talks.

he’s not good with touch, Usually..... there are exceptions :-) every time i think about this being canon i go insane. wow. love and trust and faith.

Suk Simyeong nods understandingly, giving the closed door a considering look. “If that’s the case, perhaps he can take over part of the preparations,” he offers.

SSM who’s frothing at the mouth wanting to know more about this dude who apparently did some killer business deal with the head of Dungeon Task Force who all the dungeon people are gossiping about on their phone calls while they cart around unassuming A-rank businessmen: PLEEAAASEE fucking involve him PLEEEEASE make him involve himself in business with me

Still, Yoojin’s work is fairly repetitive and boring, so Hyunjae and the women pull out a pack of UNO cards from somewhere and start playing while he works, not paying much attention to either of the boys.

plugging my Han/Bak family playing UNO art here, please reblog like and subscribe,

He stares down at Yoohyun’s hair. Yoohyun’s wavy hair sits there judgmentally. Yoojin bemoans his budding career as a stylist and admits, “This… isn’t working.”

i’m sorry sweetie... hair isn’t your forte :( you can still do fashion if you try really hard

(fun fact about this whole scene, yoohyun not being able to straighten his hair until he could control flame resistance is Certified Canon!)

“No, shit, don’t get up.” Yoojin flaps his free hand at him distractedly. Hyunjae and his need to do everything himself, jeez. “I mean, like. The iron is not. Straightening.”

“hyunjae and his need to do everything” says the man who a few paragraphs ago wanted to be hair makeup clothing and management all in one

“Okay, but why is it not working, though? Is the iron not turned on?” Wow. Wow! Yoojin wonders suddenly if Yoohyun ever felt as homicidal towards him as Yoojin’s currently feeling towards his big brother. If he ever had, then it’s frankly stunning Yoojin’s survived as long as he did. “Do you think I’m stupid,” he snaps. “It’s plugged in.” “Yeah, but did you turn it on.” “You know what, why don’t you touch it and see?” Yoojin unplugs the straightening iron for a minute so that he can take it over to Hyunjae, presenting it to him with a flourish. The heat will hold on for the few seconds this takes. “Come on, touch it right now. I dare you.”

zmur put this into words better than i can, she described this part as “the feeling when elder siblings doubt your intelligence”--

“What if you used a regular iron. Like for clothes,” Hyunjae says, completely ignoring Yoohyun. Yoojin hums thoughtfully.

--and this part as “THEY ARE RIGHT TO DOUBT IT !”

“Killjoy,” Hyunjae mutters so only he and Yoojin can hear.

(should doubt your elder sibling’s intelligence too, once in a while. keep them on their toes.)

“HAN YOOHYUN YOU TAKE YOUR HAND OFF THAT RIGHT NOW,” Yoojin and Hyunjae and Jiyeon holler in perfect unison.

parental instinct for particular phrasings of commands

“Flame Resistance,” Yoohyun reads out. “S-rank.” It’s not heat resistance, but it’s pretty close, so it probably still applies.

hum hum the flame skill works on heat as well, huh

Yoojin’s watching Hyunjae idly when the flickers start up at the edge of his vision again. He blinks, rubbing his eyes idly, and looks back up in time to see, just for a split second—

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE VISION PROBLEMS WAS IT? RUBBING HIS EYES WAS IT??

“Eh? It didn’t? I’ll… I’ll try it again, one second.” Nothing, for a second— but no, there is, pale flashes here and there. Yoojin shakes his head and blinks. They die down, then start up again. Fainter, this time. Why?

gonna say this here because i accidentally set it up as a Thing there’s. there’s no reason. whether the message shows up or not is pretty much random error.

“Ahjussi has an L-rank skill?” Yerim demands. “That’s so cool!” Jiyeon and Yoohyun and Yoojin stare at Hyunjae in silence as he returns Yerim’s eager high-five. He cowers when he notices them.

these three are already so mad and they don’t know that between S and L there’s SS and SSS. they’re gonna be SOOOOO mad. anyway yerim remains the chillest in the room

“So, say you needed to cauterize a wound in an emergency, and you didn’t have access to healing items or Hunters. You could drop the Resistance there, set it on fire, and just… sear it shut.” Yoohyun blinks, an intrigued look coming into his eyes, and looks down at his own forearm. “That’s true, I could probably…” “Yeah, food for thought, I suppose.” “What the hell?!” Yerim yelps. “Though it’s up to you if you want to try it. I still think your hair is fine as is, we don’t have to—” “That’s horrifying,” Yoojin blurts. “No, I should know how. In case something happens like you said. How do I do it?” “Now hold on a second,” Jiyeon says, voice rapidly rising in pitch.

sometimes i think about how dungeon stuff made yoojin significantly more chill with violence and murder and self mutilation in some cases. and how he comments specifically (i think this might be in a slightly later chapter, possibly unreleased) that people like myeongwoo who don’t have those extra years of immersion in the dungeon culture still reject and avoid violence and killing whenever possible. really makes you think

anyway! i saved some extra commentary for those okay with spoilers. continue reading at your own risk. extra large warning in case you’re skilling

SPOILER WARNING FOR THE BELOW CONTENT!!!! IT DRAWS ON INFO FROM UNTRANSLATED CHAPTERS, POST-170S AT LEAST!

“How many of these people did you personally know?” “Not many!” “So one, then,” Yoojin concludes. “You don’t know that!”

HE DIDN’T SAY THAT YOOJIN WAS RIGHT, THOUGH..............

“Why did you pick his name out of everyone’s! I thought you weren’t in touch with S-ranks. I thought you picked a friend’s name!”

they wanted some kind of bedroom decoration for a family member, counting sheep or something, i forget

a sheep, for a family member of one of han hyunjae’s old acquaintances, is it

#star.txt #work: yesterday will be kinder #writing commentary #my writing #some family antics to make up for what's next #more and more i feel like i need to write a timeskip. i'm so tired of early guild and dungeon management.#i need to write insanity. murder. kidnapping. classic s-class stuff #AND OF COURSE SUPERPOWERED FAMILY ANTICS WHICH IS SO CLASSIC S-CLASS STUFF IT'S BCE

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septembersghost · 3 years

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since you talk about the boys in a way I understand, can I ask you something about how some people are talking about the ending? what I don't get is how people who didn't want them to split up find it so affirming/healing or whatever and keep saying it proves that the journey mattered when it literally doesn't? they were parted by DEATH for decades? Dean may as well have died in Faith? why are they worshipping this ending when it burned the story to the ground? for Sam as much as Dean? 😣

you are welcome to ask, and I’m very glad if the gibberish I write makes sense to you <3, but I’m not sure I have an answer to give - because the succinct one is...I don’t know. I wish I did, because then I feel like I could unlock some measure of healing/catharsis that I do not currently possess. but I just don’t know.

your question has a few components, which I’ll try to tackle, but this is all biased/subjective/personal insight and could be wrong! those who find it affirming, first of all, I imagine have a different perspective than I do about Dean specifically. they take his final words as an affirmation of his growth and a restatement of his purpose, rather than as a regression/sublimation of his self and him reaching for a way to comfort Sam and give him strength to withstand the catastrophe. these are incompatible points of view, because one frames him as only having purpose as the caregiver, where the other acknowledges the importance of him in that role, but also sees him as an autonomous, worthwhile person independent of it. in the white hot grief and rage in the immediate aftermath of the finale, that concept filled me with bitterness, and it continues to hurt, but now it’s just that realization of viewing it from opposing angles. if you see his ultimate fulfillment as being about Sam rather than as something for himself, then I would guess that makes the ending really moving? if you don’t hear what Dean says as him intentionally diminishing himself, and if you don’t feel like Sam is bizarrely silenced (and ooc in his inaction) in that moment? it’s impossible for me to fully rationalize (this isn’t me being upset with you for asking, by the way! it’s okay that you did), and it’s become a sort of nightmare intrusive thought, where I’ll have gotten away from it, and then I’ll be laying quietly in the dark and it comes rushing in. that’s the portion of it that has been filed in the same place where I store real trauma/grief, the things that haunt my brain in the middle of the night. that still feels like someone I love being brutally murdered in front of me, it’s never not going to feel that way, so I can’t manage to build a framework of peace or affirmation around it. peace and affirmation shouldn’t have to come at the price of death. and healing in your life...can’t happen at all when you’re dead, because you’re dead. even in their universe, where dead doesn’t mean gone, where dead means heaven...okay, yes, you have eternity, and you have the hope that you can mend wounds and heal all things in that eternity, and that’s the point where I’ve landed with reconciling heaven, with the symbolism of the bridge, BUT you will never get to do or to be everything you could have done and could have been, that’s unequivocally over. Dean can reconcile and laugh and hug everyone in heaven forever, and that’s lovely, but he also died bloody and ugly and terrified and in pain while he was still young without ever having a path for himself. it’s not fair. (I KNOW, life’s not fair, and death is cruel and random and meaningless! but this is Supernatural? forgive me if I think “realism” excuses after fifteen seasons of paranormal, infernal, and divine intervention don’t exactly cut it. as if death by vampmime on conveniently placed OSHA violation rebar is “realistic” when it’s the most contrived, absurd thing that’s ever happened.)

it also requires a disparate understanding of their characters and their journeys, where one has to take at face value their original presentation (despite the fact that this is deconstructed from the start and is dismantled entirely by the later seasons) - that Dean is the ultimate, consummate hunter, and that it is meant to be his life (repeatedly proven untrue, stated as false by Dean himself in Inherit the Earth), and that Sam was never comfortable in the life and was shackled to it/needed to be freed from it (repeatedly proven untrue, also by Sam himself). this outlook maybe, maybe could’ve withstood scrutiny in S1, but by S15 it doesn’t exist as anything but flimsy posturing (not from Sam and Dean, but rather from fandom?) and poor writing. there’s a lot of misattribution of traits and misreading of key character components/dynamics happening, which is confusing/frustrating.

on the topic of Faith - I’ve seen two schools of thought, what you said (he may as well have died there), and that the ending was RESOLUTION for Faith because he was always “supposed” to die by violence on a hunt, so it was closing the circle, which I think is utterly ridiculous (it would be like saying Sam was meant to be stabbed to death, wouldn’t it?). in theory, my problem with it doesn’t entirely lie with him dying unexpectedly on a hunt - the blaze of glory ending for them was a continual possibility, the idea that they might walk into a situation without the upper-hand - it’s the way it happened and was presented that’s hurtful. it’s the implications of what came before it in that final season and how it unfolded that make it insulting. S15 insinuated that the only reason they’d survived as long as they did was plot armor and machinations from their puppeteer rather than inherent resilience and hard-learned skill/ability (I refuse to get into it because this will become a long rant, but The Hero’s Journey is appalling and only exists to set the finale up conceptually). S15 broke him down with the intention of killing him, and there’s this undercurrent of malice to that which now permeates the story.

I also disagree with the “he may as well have died” at that point, and maybe this is because Faith is one of my favorite episodes of all-time of anything, so I will fight to salvage it from the wreckage of this however I can, but - Dean was 27 there, and very different than he was by Carry On, and you could make an argument that his death in Faith would have been more tragic, but I think the tragedy is just fundamentally distinct. in Faith, Dean is still very much defining himself by everything that was forced upon him and by hunting, and he’s fairly callous about facing death. (Dean: “Look, Sammy, what can I say, man, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story.” Sam: “Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options.” Dean: “What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it.” Sam: “Watch me.”) His feelings of worthlessness outside of that are clear - “Why? Why me? Out of all the sick people, why save me?,” and, despite the knowledge we gain later about the reaper-on-a-leash, Roy gives us an answer that echoes throughout the narrative: “I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest. [...] A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished.”

Sam striving so hard to save him follows the fights and the fallout of Asylum and Scarecrow, his seething resentment having bubbled over, and then him coming back and renewing his commitment to his brother. Faith is vital to an understanding of Sam and the lengths he’s willing to go. Dean has a self-contained arc within it, both with blame/guilt/questioning and with a quiet embracing of (even the tiniest bit of) faith through the episode, but he walks away from it with a renewed sense of both purpose and injustice (doing what they do does have an impact; sadly, good, innocent people die all the time who don’t deserve it, something he’s known since the age of four) and of tenuous hope (which is not allowed to last, but it does flicker there for a moment). Dean is rightfully skeptical, yet not incapable of extending belief. (an aside fact: the next episode was Route 666, which had the highest audience ratings SPN ever achieved, which...yeah, I put that squarely on Faith being extraordinary, and, much as I like Cassie, it’s a shame that it was followed up by our first example of B/L messiness. imagine the AU where Faith was followed by something equally excellent and that duo had never written for our show...so much might be different). we’re shown his justifiable cynicism and also more of the depth of his empathy. had he died there...the sorrowful truth of it is, he would never have experienced a litany of calamitous, traumatic things, but he’d also never have grown into himself and transformed beyond that, and his growth is valuable.

Dean in Carry On is much changed, except, amazingly, he’s still Dean to the core. he has had a long, hard road, and we’ve traveled it with him. this Dean has died - way too many times (among others, at only 29, shredded by hellhounds. again at 35, at the fists and blade of Metatron). Dean has been pulled from hell, survived purgatory, the Mark, Michael, instances of suicidality, too many grievous losses to count, fought angels and demons and the Devil and God himself, and has realized how precious his freedom is, what his choices affect, he has longed for things, hoped for things, he’s affirmed his self-worth, has reached a place of healing, level ground with Sam, has a home (and a dog), has a life he has embraced and light ahead of him. Dean dead in Faith would be the tragic loss of a young man who didn’t allow himself to recognize that he had worth and purpose of his own. Dean dead in Carry On is the tragic loss of a man who DOES understand that he has worth and purpose of his own. both are terrible. Dean dying at 27 is horrific and crushing, but in a markedly contrasting sense. Dean dying at 41 after everything he endured, after everything he suffered and witnessed and did, is a desecration of the arc that came before it. it isn’t the same as him dying in Faith, it’s somehow...worse. he has a reason for hope that is then wrenched away from him, and he’s fully aware of all that he’s losing, and the traces of cynicism wash away entirely as he opens up to complete vulnerability because he knows he is going to die and this is his last chance. and I guess through a certain lens you could see this as a positive? - he dies in a healthier place and bolstering Sam and he doesn’t have to worry so much about what will happen to him - but I am emotionally incapable of giving it that spin. it is a devastating loss.

a devastating loss which is Sam’s worst fear and which he just gets to live with, I guess, because they decided he wouldn’t be allowed to do anything about it (I know, I know, he ~kept a promise~ uh, shallow Swan Song redux? as I’ve previously discussed, does not work). so Sam, the one who had faith as established from its origin IN FAITH, who was always the “there’s a light at the end of the tunnel and I’m going to save you” guy, Sam with the constant thirst for knowledge who was always researching things, Sam who was relentless and obsessive when it came to problem solving, especially when it concerned trying to save his brother, loses everything, cuts ties with everyone, abandons the home that was only a home because of Dean, and becomes someone we don’t know. suburban dad Sam? is literally a stranger to us. I have no idea who that man is, which is why it’s easier for me to think of that as a trippy hallucination than it is to accept it as reality. we know nothing about him. we don’t know what he does with his life (beyond blurry no-face wife and cipher Dean child). we know more about Dean in heaven than we know about Sam alive because...Dean gets in the Impala and takes a nice drive? Sam, though, I don’t know him. and the thing that makes the narrative difficult at that point (and I don’t care about blurry wife or the kid, I truly do not believe the narrative wants or expects us to), is that when Sam shows up on the bridge, IF those decades were real, he is no longer the version of Sam that Dean knew, because you’re right, he’s lived more years of his life without Dean than with him (which...I hate). you have to avoid thinking about it or somehow retcon it, because we’re supposed to see him as our Sam - but then, what was the point of the poorly handled flash-forwards? bless the boys for selling that moment on the bridge as beautifully as they did, and for adding in the components that they chose to bring it emotional weight, they did everything they could with what they were given, but you can’t examine it too closely or it crumbles. the fandom that didn’t want them to separate are cool with this outcome? yet if they were ALIVE, they would always have been in contact, no matter where they went, and they could have recovered and grown in their actual lives and shared experiences, rather than being dead and being in mourning for perpetuity?

furthermore, as I’ve also discussed, it’s outcomes neither of them wanted. Dean didn’t say he thought he’d die bloody as if that was some great, triumphant thing, it’s that he couldn’t envision better, he didn’t think he deserved more. I saw someone who said, “Dean didn’t die for Sam, but he stayed dead for Sam,” and wanted to scream forever. as if that’s what Sam most needed or wanted? as if that was some incredible service to him? Sam did not want the “normal” life anymore, which he made clear on numerous occasions, so he was only living that life...what’s the inverse of vicariously?...for Dean’s sake, in tribute. it doesn’t even make sense to me to support it as an ending for Sam.

as far as proving that the journey mattered...it can’t. Dean died horribly. Sam quit. (and you asked this specifically about the boys, but as a footnote, certain angels being back in heaven, serving, ew, “God,” wrecks even the most basic concept of internal logic.) they would’ve been in heaven together no matter what, we know this (Dark Side of the Moon established this, and Dabb co-wrote that. although, pile up his writing and it is full of contradictions), so the meaning doesn’t come from there. it’s hollow misery and grief and I would have to have my brain rewired to see it as anything else.

yet the fact of the matter also is, Dean didn’t die in Faith, nor was he trapped in hell forever. Sam didn’t die in AHBL2, nor was he trapped in the cage forever. gloriously and complexly and difficultly and extraordinarily, for the rest of the time when we had them, they lived. (the point is that they lived.) they made mistakes. maybe they didn’t always persevere. nevertheless, they kept trying. that remains in spite of the finale, not because of it. so no, I can’t explain those interpretations. I’m never going to understand how anyone views it as a win, or as somehow even better than the story deserved. heaven and reunion on the bridge still could’ve happened with any number of different paths to get there. you will never convince me that there wasn’t a better way. you will never convince me that the answer to the question wasn’t supposed to be freedom.

Chuck (before he was what he became) asked rhetorically, “what’s it all add up to?,” and gave us emotional weight with it then. that being said, I refuse to believe or allow it to destroy the meaning that DOES exist. yes, past episodes are shrouded in the ache of this now, it comes up in a million little ways, but it does not steal or erase everything. the intrigue of the folklore/gothic horror/Romanticism, the concepts of free will and radical actions, and divinity within the human spirit, and love as a holy power that breaks through walls and plans and destinies, and facing trauma, and extending compassion, and bravery as a flame in the dark - it all still exists. it can only be burned to the ground if we decide not to hold onto it, it’s like...you can decide, if those flames burn it down, or if it’s the fire that keeps your brittle heart warm the heart and hearth of the story alight. and that’s a unique experience for each of us. for the people who view the ending as resolution in a positive sense...they’re making their own meaning, and isn’t that what we all do? so for those of us wounded by it, we have to make our own meaning as well. it’s more difficult and aching for us, but it’s not impossible. look at us here, still poring over the story, loving the characters, seeking the light on the shore.

endings are hard. (nothing ever really ends, does it?)

#anonymous #letterbox #i hope this makes sense because i haven't slept...#and i held this for two days but i still have messages in here that are now approaching a month old asdfjasdfj i'm sorry <3 #tbh this is VERY hard for me to parse so i don't know if i managed it #because it's still a wound and still an ongoing grief process #as i said the other night i do feel a sense of real envy for people who loved it bc this story means SO MUCH to me and i wish i had that #they're...lucky that they do.#it's difficult to talk about with any level of cogent analysis or intellect because emotionally that haze of sorrow overpowers it all #i have spent so much time and spilled so much virtual ink and so many real tears over this since november #and discussing it still feels surreal in many ways #i was discussing this with zoe a few hours ago and it's just incomprehensible to me on so many levels no matter how hard i try #i didn't want this to only be sadness and bitterness so that's why i gave it the little polish at the end #spn for ts #spn finale #long post #do i give this the #spn critical #tag? i guess i ought to

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thefools-journey · 4 years

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The Tarot in Love

AKA QUICK TAROT META

So. Apparently a lot of Arcana fans don’t understand or know the connection between the LIs and their tarot cards. This will be a quick primer on said tarot cards and how they influence the LI routes. It’s important to note that most cards have multiple domains and influences. The type of reading, the question posed, and the other cards within the reading will determine which domain or influence is being accessed.

Before we start, note that every single LI begins their route on the Reversed Path. A Reversed Card in this game means that the card’s energy is stuck and something is preventing its full expression.

ASRA THE MAGICIAN

The Magician’s main domains circle Action. The Magician knows what he wants and goes after it, damn the consequences. If he is committed and willing, he makes miracles happen. He is the kinetic energy to the High Priestess’ potential energy. As the MC says in the prologue when they pull this card (for Nadia), this card signals that the time to act is now.

Asra begins his route full of inaction. Sure, he seems like he is on the go and doing things but in reality, he is paralyzed. He has allowed his ties to Muriel and Nadia decay in favor of the MC. He hasn’t acted on vital information only he knows. He has lost his purpose, his drive, for knowledge, for love, etc. Some of this is down to his caregiver role with the MC - Asra cannot act or do much of anything in that quarter without risking the MC's health. Most of it is down to the year from hell ™ where Asra learned just how far he will go and just how powerful and ruthless he can be for those he loves. The year from hell ™ demonstrates exactly what the Magician is made to do. Asra scared himself really badly here. So he starts the route in a sort of limbo. Key to his Upright ending is widening his world, making the Magician understand that what he fights for is not just himself, his narrow goals, and loves but something much bigger.

NADIA THE HIGH PRIESTESS

The High Priestess deals in a few interlocking domains. She guards the boundaries between the mundane and the mysterious. She is the great potential waiting to be unlocked. Arguably, she is magic itself. She is the inner voice, that gut feeling, that intuition you cannot explain but know is right. She asks you to trust that part of yourself.

Nadia's route is arguably the best balanced in terms of the magical and mundane storylines. This is no accident. This balance is fundamental to the High Priestess' domain. When her route begins, Nadia trusts no one, not even herself. Thanks to missing nine years’ worth of memories, she understandably feels adrift. She has no idea what is going on and who to trust. Nadia’s only real tethers, and they are tenuous ones, are to Portia and the MC, the latter of whom she hopes can somehow help her. The year from hell ™ even if she no longer remembers it, also played a large role in starting her down the Reversed path. More than once, Nadia admits to withdrawing, emotionally, physically, and mentally, from the outside world as a way to cope. This was not a strategic or necessary withdrawal as her Birthday memory makes clear: together with Asra and Julian, the three of them could have held together and figured out a path forward. It wouldn’t have been easy, of course. But the very real danger in Nadia’s route is her belief that she and she alone must make things right, which goes against the High Priestess’ ways. The High Priestess sees potential in all around her. If Nadia turns away from that part of her which begs her listen and reach out, she is truly lost. Nadia’s Upright Ending requires her to find balance between what she can know and what she must simply have faith in, to be the boundary between the known and unknown. It requires her to learn how to trust not only others but herself again.

MURIEL THE HERMIT

The Hermit is searching for something. Not something from the outer world but something from within. Some mystery needs solving, some understanding needs creating, a higher call needs answering. He turns inward for answers, though he will seek or receive guidance from trusted sources. Through his search, he will create a still center, a solid, unbreakable foundation to call upon in times of high action and stress. Through this struggle, the Hermit can become that guide for others, focusing and directing their own journeys.

Muriel's route is the most fascinating and difficult of the routes because the Hermit's journey is by definition an internal one. Want to know why his route is so wrapped up in taking him out of his every day world and forcing him to discover his past? That’s why; it is a way of externalizing the very internal struggle for validation and focus the Hermit embodies. When his route begins, Muriel very literally has withdrawn from the world. And not just any world, but a world craving his experience and expertise. Of all the characters, Muriel has the most information on what is happening and why, above and beyond even Asra. Muriel holds the keys to so many happy endings and yet, he has chosen to be forgotten and isolated. As with Nadia, this retreat was not a strategic one but one borne of fear. Muriel has the knowledge and allies to handle the challenges which he faces. What he lacks and what he is building in his route is the internal fortitude, the stable foundation necessary to not only survive the challenges which come for him but to thrive and defeat them. The genius of this route’s Upright Ending is that the MC is building this fortitude right alongside Muriel, guiding him and being guided in turn. The MC protects Muriel, guiding him back into the larger world with a caring hand and back to rely on. In turn, Muriel answers the higher calling within himself to face the Devil. He solidifies his foundational revelations and becomes a guide in turn towards the Devil’s defeat. Make no mistake, when the foundation is as rock hard as that pair will be, the fiercest storm is no match.

JULIAN THE HANGED MAN

The Hanged Man is a card of waiting, potentiality, and knowing surrender. Some say it is a card of martyrdom but really it’s a card about sacrificing and letting go, winning through stepping back and allowing things to happen to you. The Hanged Man suspends action, waiting for some unknown or a revelation. Through the paradox of stepping back or surrendering, the Hanged Man finds what he needs to achieve victory. When you see the Hanged Man in a general reading, it’s asking you whether the actions you’re taking are having the opposite effect that you intended. It asks you to let go and step back.

Julian begins his route like he begins most things: with a dramatic flair just before he faceplants. Julian is flailing every which way with no rhyme or reason. Because he has lost so much control over his life, he tightens his grip on what little he can control. He leads the MC on, then unceremoniously drops them before they can drop him or be hurt. He has taken the entire world and all its consequences on his shoulders. Julian feels out of control and unable to slow down, process, and wait. Most of his restless catastrophizing stems from the year from hell ™- he watched countless thousands die, failed to stop it, and woke up with no memory and a murderer’s brand on his hand. It’s only when he begins to let go, to allow people to make their own decisions and minds towards him that things start to turn around for him. His Upright Ending rewards players who reinforce the Hanged Man’ lessons: you cannot control everything, nor should you try, and sometimes it’s doing what feels wrong (in his case, letting others help him shoulder his burdens, just try to count how many times he says something along the line of ‘it’s wrong for others to want to help me’) that leads to victory.

LUCIO THE DEVIL

The Devil is a card about power and control, who and what has it in your life. This can manifest in a myriad of ways, from feeling out of control to obsessing over things and people to actively controlling others. The Devil is usually a warning card, a sign that something or someone has an unhealthy hold over you (or that you have an unhealthy hold over someone). The Devil also deals in materialism and the obsession with status. Again, this goes back to the power and control domains. Some interpretations also add ignorance to the Devil’s domain, which can also be traced back to his control domain. If you are unaware of something, you cannot take control of it. The Devil asks you to reevaluate and reassess what and who you allow to have power in your life. It asks you to retake responsibility for your own destiny.

Lucio begins his route as a literal shade of a man, a shell of his former self, unable to interact with the world he so slavishly desires. This is the debt he has accumulated through a lifetime of irresponsibility, an obsession with instant gratification, and a desperate need to be seen by others as powerful, desirable, and control. In his quest to become the most powerful man on the planet, he has instead wound up with nothing, completely ignorant as to the cause of his circumstances. This is why he is stuck as the Devil's least favorite whipping boy. If Lucio had taken responsibility and come clean, even back when he was dying, he could have avoided the worst of his problems. As it stands, he is still dodging responsibility, allowing his obsessions to dominate his life, and ensuring his mistakes continue to compound against him. That is why getting him to own up and regain control of himself is key to his Upright Ending. It sounds cruel but that hard, grinding self reflection is the only way he stands a chance of fully, utterly breaking his chains.

PORTIA THE STAR

The Star is a card of peace, hope, clarity, and truth. It is that small light in the dark, asking you to endure the night. It tells you that you have the tools to do so. Keep your hope, find your peace, and hold to your truth. The end of your journey is in sight. It is a card of seeing and knowing, not action.

I already wrote a huge meta on Portia's route and how her status as the Star impacts it. Portia begins her route hurting from and hoarding secrets. She wants to find the truth but has given up almost all hope of uncovering it. Despite knowing the costs of keeping people in the dark, Portia continues doing so, a silent observer too paralyzed and overwhelmed to act on the truths she knows. The most obvious demonstration of this is her dealings with Nadia. Portia has worked with her for months but hasn't told her about Julian, her literacy, and her invitation. Telling Nadia these truths would solve several of Portia's problems but she can't bring herself to do it due to fear. Her route is all about truths, exposing them or hiding them. Key to her Upright ending is getting her to act on her truths and bring them to light. Knowing the truth isn’t enough if you aren’t willing to act on it.

-Telos

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana meta #asra #nadia #muriel #julian #lucio #portia #the wheel turns #the arcana reversed #the year from hell tm

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hecohansen31 · 5 years

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This embarrassing moment when Reader, Miss Mead and Michael are together, something happens to him, he gets hurt, without thinking he wailed "Mommy !" and, at the same time, Miss Mead and Reader respond, before looking at each other, Miss Mead with big surprised eyes and Reader being ashamed. Baby Michael has two moms, but they do not really have the same relationship with him... Fufufu !

(A/N): Hello lovely!

Apparently, lately it has been the “mommy kink” festival! (Not that I am complaining because like... don’t want to kinkexpose myself, but like... hey...).

And I honestly love this request, because I don’t know if you can see this, but like... I have a pendant for funnier and domestic request... so if you have more, I am here for them!

(Also updates on what I am doing: I am writing a fic, I know I said I wouldn’t be writing them for a bit, but like... I literally love this, and you’ll probably see for Halloween, so...).

(Also this is the reason if a few asks are a bit late, and also... I LOVE ALL OF YOU ROMAN GODFREY FELLOW LOVERS! We stan one rich boy in this household).

WARNINGS: Mommy Kink (Mention).

It was your first meeting with Mrs Mead, the beloved mother of your beloved boyfriend.

And you obviously couldn’t help but be “a slight” nervous.

You checked yourself in the mirror for the umpteenth time to make sure your elegant dress was spotless and that not a single hair was out of place from the updo you had chosen for the simple trip to “that nice place where they make the bestest french-toast in New Orleans”, according to Michael.

You smiled a bit, at the childish manners of your wizard boyfriend, a bit saddened about the fact that sadly you didn’t see him as much as before, since the Hawthorne boys had transferred back to their rightful home, although you knew that each witch had rejoiced the lost of the annoying boys (and even a bit you, since, you hadn’t much love for anyone who wasn’t Michael or professor Moore, from that school).

It was hard at first, although it was even harder for Michael, who felt a bit abandoned in his situation, unlike you, who had amazing friends to stop you from feeling awful…

… but thank Satan skype existed and so did Facetime and messages, so that you could lessen a bit Michael’s aching longing for you.

And you were extremely thankful for the free weekends, where you would drive to Hawthorne and hang out with your favorite wizard (once you had joked you had been there to see John Henry, indeed “your favorite wizard” and Michael hadn’t spoken to you for a day).

And you were thankful that you got to spend the day in your favorite city with your warlock and the person he treated as his mother, loving her as such, although you couldn’t help but be a bit overwhelmed and scared by Mrs Mead’s judgement.

What would Michael do, had she not approved you?

You knew that your love was solid, but you also realized that the family he had built with the Satanist woman might have been something that stood before you and so it might be more impactful than you, a simple witch.

You were extremely relived to see them arrive on time and immediately exited Robinchaux, meanwhile Madison mocked you with very vulgar gestures (you honestly hoped Mrs Mead hadn’t seen them) meanwhile Misty Day and Zoe gave you thumbs up to encourage you a bit.

Michael was waiting outside the car, parked on the sideways of the road, and when he saw you, he immediately reached out to envelop you in an hug, before raising you a bit off the ground, meanwhile you squealed of surprise, completely forgetting about your anxiety.

He jokingly brushed your noses together, before capturing your lips softly for a sweet kiss in which you melted completely, with your arms loosely around his neck, meanwhile your toes caught the ground, again.

A low cough brought yourself apart and you couldn’t help but blush lightly, meanwhile Mrs Mead came forward, holding out an hand for you to take it and gently grip it tightly, but not “I-Want-To-Crush-Your-Hand” tightly

-I am (Y/N) (L/N)- you mumbled as lowly as you could, trying to keep your voice from wavering pitifully and gaining a smile from the older woman, all dressed in black, who kept her eyes on you face the entire time of the exchange -It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Mead-.

-Oh, sweetie, you can call me Myriam! – the woman saluted her gently, gripping back her hand -… Michael has talked so much about you-.

-I hope only good things- you joked, gently entwining your fingers together with Michael’s, who sent a disgruntled look on your way, making you smirk.

-I don’t think that my boy could have bad words for someone who love him so much- giggled softly Mrs Mead and you blushed again, turning to hide your face in Michael’s neck, who smirked even brighter although a light dust of pink covered his cheeks.

-Can we now go? – propose softly Michael, looking at Mrs Mead with bright eyes, and with an hand on his soft tummy -…I am hungry! -.

Of course, your boyfriend was always hungry and you giggled, sharing a knowing look with Mrs Mead, who was a joy for the entire trip towards the french-toast place, although you did have to say that the little conversation on her likes and dislikes with Michael had helped you.

So, after a little talk about your musical taste and what your family did (avoiding talking about their extremely catholic faith) you had warmed up the black-clothed woman’s heart.

That was till Michael tried eating a too hot french-toast, immediately burning his tongue and utter a pained “mommy”.

You and Mrs Mead had immediately turned around, catching each other in the action, and although you were definitely less surprised, since she was obviously Michael’s motherly figure, she didn’t hide the surprise to your immediate reaction, and you couldn’t help but feel ashamed.

You immediately backed off, thinking that you had screwed up everything, letting Mrs Mead take care of her boy, meanwhile you clutched his hand in yours, trying to give him some comfort and support, not meeting the other woman’s eyes.

This dynamic was pretty common between you and Michael (and between your friends, mostly because of that time Madison saw Michael standing outside of your room, waiting for you to come back from a library session with Zoe and asked jokingly “are you waiting for your mommy, poor baby?” and Michael had just nodded, traumatizing effectively poor Madison).

You were used to being a caregiver to others and Michael couldn’t help but be attracted by your gentle and stern nurturing nature.

It had taken you a few months to get around the entity of this dimension between you and Michael, but it had also come natural and you had set down on your roles, whenever Michael felt like regressing, which was mostly when you two were together, but sometimes Michael would slip in public and you had learnt to catch on the signs of this.

Still you hadn’t been very open about this dynamic, mostly due to all the prejudices that came with it, although, you, yourself didn’t care much about them.

But certainly, being called “mommy” by your boyfriend, in front of his adoptive mother didn’t bode well, with an appropriate first meeting.

“Michael, dear, I think that pouring some cold water on it might help, I’ll order some, but in the meanwhile you can try with the one from the sink of the bathroom” suggested Mrs Mead, saying exactly what you would have also suggested, but you would have offered kisses in order to also ease the pain.

You simply smiled sympathetically at the poor baby, gently gripping tighter his hand, just to let it go in order for him to be up and run towards the toilettes, leaving you and Mrs Mead extremely red, in an embarrassed silence and you almost thought about faking an excuse to get out the embarrassing situation.

“… well I do think that was a bit awkward” attempt to speak up softly Mrs Mead, meanwhile you kept your eyes on the skirt of your dress, but attempted a small smile “… I won’t pretend to understand it, but I won’t judge you”.

“I swear it was a little slip” you mumbled shyly “I didn’t mean it and I truly am sorry…”.

“I do have to admit that it took me a bit by surprise…” grumbled the other woman, but her tone was judgement free “… but I am glad that Michael has somebody who cares for him and love him, it makes me feel happy that he would have somebody who might look out for him, if anything happened to me”.

“Please don’t be so… sad… I am sure that you and him will have more summers and winters in the future” you couldn’t help but reply since the tone of the woman had suddenly started become sad.

“Oh, my sweet child, it is typical of us parents to be worried about our children’s future” exclaimed softly the woman, holding out an hand to intertwin with yours and you couldn’t help but give her a soft but sad smile “… but you don’t know how much lighter you make me feel, knowing that you’ll take care of my Michael”.

You smiled, this time, with gentleness:

“I’ll always take care of him, don’t worry”.

#michael langdon #michael langdon reader #michael langdon drabble #michael langdon blurb #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fem reader #michael langdon x fem! reader #sweet mikey #AHS #ahs fic #michael langdon fic #Michael Langdon Oneshot #michael langdon one shot #michael langdon fanfiction #duncan shepherd #ahs apocalypse

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airyravenmaid · 4 years

Text

V3 Talentswap AU

Self-control who, don’t know her

I’ve been doing a little collaboration with my dear friend @dreamydiamond putting together a full-on Talentswap for the V3 peeps bc everyone likes different talent AU’s, don’t they? At this moment in time, there is no exact designated protag/deuterag/antag-rival/Mastermind bc it’s literally just been fun old brainstorming, but here are some brief, general descriptions of what’s what under the cut.

Ultimate Pianist - Toujou Kirumi: Enjoys making others happy with her music and will play (almost) any song asked of her, though she seems to have an unspoken preference towards softer tempo songs. Open to learning as many different kinds of songs as possible from her beliefs of music being the number one thing to soothe even the savagest of beasts. Took over piano from her mentor who suffered a serious hand injury and was left unable to play any longer, also prompting her to wear gloves in case she ever went through the same fate.

Ultimate Detective - Shinguuji Korekiyo: (NOT A FUGGING SERIAL KILLER HERE; THIS IS A HOUSE OF CHRIST) Dedicated primarily to his work that will someday make him a full-fledged sleuth without his parents’ aid. Gained notoriety as a sleuth following a domestic abuse case ending with the arrest of his (now disowned) elder sister, but wasn’t able to leave without the trauma that came with it. As a result, he’s rather apprehensive when it comes to non-platonic relationships and prefers to direct as much of his focus away from them as possible.

Ultimate Astronaut - Ouma Kokichi: A misanthropic astronaut-in-training with one goal in mind: conquering the galaxy and destroying the planet with nary a drop of mercy for anyone else. Believes he’s higher and mightier than any “Earthling scum” and will gladly show so, using contradictions and fibs to hide what well may be his true self buried underneath. Nonetheless, he seems interested in seeing if there are any “rare ones” that could somehow prove to be worth his time, but severely doubts he could be stood corrected. Could he?

Ultimate Magician - Harukawa Maki: The self-proclaimed master of the arcana and dark arts, she often secludes herself from others in order to perfect her spells and concoctions, believing non-magical creatures may “curse” her and leave her efforts for naught. Having used to do magic shows before growing to hate them and quitting, she also seems to be a reluctant hit with children despite the frigid, unfriendly exterior she gives at first glance. Warns people that magic isn’t a toy or show gag, but is very seldom heeded and brushed off as “crazy”.

Ultimate Aikido Master - Saihara Shuichi: Initially bullied to no end by his peers, he sought martial arts as his way out after taking advice from his beloved uncle and developed an adequate way to defend himself. Because of this, he’s highly disciplined and doesn’t believe something as sacred as aikido should be used for any other reason. Being easily startled, it’s not wise to try and sneak up on or spook him; you will get tossed at best and en route to the hospital for broken ribs at worst as a result.

Ultimate Child Caregiver/Assassin - Akamatsu Kaede: Started out as a simple daycare assistant that’s a born natural with children, but was later taken by a mysterious organization and brainwashed using a sleeper code to test her capabilities. Following her first kill that she doesn’t remember, she was then actively trained into a killer-for-hire, which she’s done everything in her power to keep a secret from the children and everyone else. Some say that uttering her old code will temporarily re-activate her deadly trance, but that’s just a silly rumor! ...Right?

Ultimate Cosplayer - Yumeno Himiko: A longtime lover of the magical girl genre that fell in love with their colorful designs and longed to recreate their outfits for her own to don. Had gotten her first taste of sewing work from having to patch up holes in her clothes and others, which eventually grew with modifying her school uniforms to fit her smaller stature and paved the path to cosplay. Sets up stands at conventions that sell cosplay outfits and wigs for a “reasonable” (to her, at least) price, if only to make up for being terrible at delivering adequate fanart of her favorite mahou shoujou anime shows.

Ultimate Robot - 10-K0, aka “Tenko”: A fully functional android programmed with an intense dislike of robophobes and “degenerate males” created by the esteemed Professor Chabashira (who is also male, but she greatly reveres him and the contradiction hasn’t clicked yet). Has a great sense of empathy and can get a good reading on someone using a simple scan, and despite not being entirely invincible, will serve as a protector for any fair maiden that needs her.

Ultimate Entomologist - Iidabashi Kiibo: More in-tuned to befriend bugs than people as a result of (and resulting in) being harassed by other children over the years, but managed to not let his heart turn bitter from it nonetheless. The son of a biologist father, he grew to discover his own research with arachnids and insects to learn the lifestyles of such small creatures that play such a big role in everyday life. Though he loves his bugs, he also seems to yearn for a human friend to call his own that actually accepts him and his “bizarre” interests.

Ultimate Artist - Gokuhara Gonta: Lost in the woods from an early age, he fell in love with nature and sought to find a way of immortalizing it to its fullest potential. His large size and massive strength make him best at creating sculptures, but his unexpectedly gentle hands are what helps convey his muse through paintings and sketches. Still an aspiring gentleman that hopes to show his sophisticated works to the world, but is also prone to aggressive outbursts when faced with intense enough artist’s block and seeing his art be disrespected.

Ultimate ??? - Hoshi Ryouma: Doesn’t remember too much about his talent or past life save for vague flashes hinting towards it, which he’s only gathered that he’d done something atrocious to warrant being on the lam and sent running to too many places all over the globe. In spite of his amnesia, it seems he doesn’t care if he never gets those memories back if the implied crimes were too horrible to recall in the first place.

Ultimate Inventor - Amami Rantaro: Shown a gift for tinkering at a young age, though was initially apprehensive with making it too big of a deal and making it his primary living in life until he came to enjoy doing so over time. Makes small gadgets for his younger sisters and larger, more complex gadgets that would be beneficial to anyone even if technically in the “prototype” stage. Overall leans more towards making things that’d be useful and not just for fun, but if he trusts someone enough, he’ll likely be more up for bending that rule just a little.

Ultimate Anthropologist - Yonaga Angie: A devout traveler who’s been all over the globe following the word of different religions believing she is the vessel for every deity ever known. Personally prefers the word of her home island’s god, but beckons to all depending on their culture’s faith. Carefully studies humanity in seeing how vast they are in everyday life and primarily looks into their creation myths and pantheon.

Ultimate Supreme Leader - Shirogane Tsumugi: Claims to have been raised into the line of succession for a dangerous organization she believes will bring the downfall of man itself if crossed too much. Wonders how such a “plain” girl such as herself wound up in such a position of power and blames it solely on good luck, but isn’t complaining much otherwise. The day she’s in charge is the day she plans on making the best she’s ever lived.

Ultimate Tennis Pro - Momota Kaito: The unlikely “Shining Star of the Court” that’s come a long way in conquering tennis leagues from all over the nation, but seems to be hiding something he fears will hinder his athleticism. Advocates for keeping a healthy lifestyle both in diet and physiology, and aims to train as hard as he can to stay almost invincible in the face of difficulty. Won’t hold back during a game, but wants his opponents to have as fair of a shot as possible against him if they intend to win.

Ultimate Maid - Iruma Miu: Started from a poorer background and needed to find a way to make a better living for herself, so what better way than putting her “natural good looks” to great use? Is very good at what she does, but her inappropriate comments and nature makes everyone hesitant to trust things she’s prepared in addition to finding her “sexy maid” jokes too off-putting to laugh at. Thinks her skills are better than sliced bread and bellows how people should be thankful for needing her, but one mistake pops her bravado like a bubble and she crinkles at the slightest criticisms.

#New Dangan Ronpa V3 #Kirumi Tojo #Korekiyo Shinguji #Kokichi Ouma #Talentswap AU #V3 Talentswap #AUCanon #Putting it under the cut for length reasons #And so I can edit it anytime I please lmfao #I'm also more than willing to answer questions about this AU btw :3c

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queen-of-the-merry-men · 7 years

Text

OQ Prompt Party {Day 2}

Prompt #185. OQ adopts a baby... or three.

Read on ff.net

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All they wanted was to be parents.

And, oh, how hard they tried.

He still remembers the moment he first saw her. Every little detail. Exactly.

The curl of her hair (flipped out where it reached her chin), the shade of her lipstick (berry plum) and the color of her dress (light blue with a navy blue floral pattern).

It was supposed to be a simple presentation, one he’d done at least a dozen times before but she’d knocked him off his game. The minute he’d looked into her dark chocolate eyes his heart had skipped a beat.

He’d basically made a fool of himself in front of 25 kindergartners, stuttering over stranger danger tips simply because she’d been there.

Luckily, she’d found his fumbling attractive enough to agree to a date. He’d taken her to a local place, nothing special but the food. Still she liked it.

He never expected a schoolteacher to hold her whiskey so well.

Falling in love with her was the easiest thing he’d ever done. He was head over heels in a matter of hours.

In his heart he’d known that she felt the same. But getting her to admit it? Well, he’d never had a harder job in his life. Or a more rewarding one.

Earning her open heart was the most important thing he’d ever done.

One year after stuttering through stranger danger tips he recited his vows to her. And he didn’t stammer once.

Those first two years were some of the happiest of his life. He loved her, she loved him. They were happy, stable, together.

Children were the next step. The last thing they needed to complete their happy ending.

They’d both wanted it.

They just… hadn’t foreseen the struggle.

It only took a couple months for them to get worried. They tried to keep the faith but once they passed 12 months they knew it was time to see a doctor.

After that it was a blur of hormones and needles and trials and failures. It… it ran them into the ground. He’d married a resilient woman, he knew that, but even her heart had its limits.

They were a cop and a schoolteacher, and their funds buckled under the weight of their dreams.

One round was all they could afford. And when it didn’t work… her heart broke.

That fourth year of marriage was the hardest of his life. He’d cried more times than he can count, heard her cry behind closed doors and into pillows.

That open heart he’d worked so hard to gain access to sealed up like a vault. She wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t listen. Kept him at arms length emotionally… and physically.

He could see the end in sight, could almost feel her literally slipping between his fingers.

She was going to leave him. He knew it… but damn it if he was gonna let her walk out without a fight.

He threw a hail mary.

He confessed.

Everything.

Everything that he’d hoped, everything he’d felt, all the pain he’d hidden away for her sake. He confessed it all in a way she couldn’t ignore, not that she didn’t try. She hadn’t wanted to listen, she tried to run but he didn’t let her.

It was a hard, long night… but she came back to him. Little by little she’d opened back up, poured out everything she’d held in.

They’d held each other ‘til the sun came up and had a cry over what wasn’t meant to be.

Acceptance was difficult but it’d allowed them to move on together.

It took work and effort, from both sides, but they learned how to be happy again. Together.

It took a few months for him to work up the nerve to ask about adoption. Turns out to be a short conversation.

She was completely on board.

They look into all the agencies and avenues but it turns out he finds their first baby all on his own.

He was working the late shift. Got called to the scene of the accident, a car crash. The couple in the front seat had died on impact but all he had eyes for was the toppled car seat in the back.

It was a small baby boy, no more than one year old. The car crash had been brutal and the baby certainly wasn’t unscathed, one look was all it took to know that.

In all his years on the job he’d never been more scared.

The EMTs came and carted him off in record time, thank god, but he hadn’t been able to get him out his head. After his shift ended he drove straight past home to the hospital without even thinking about it.

There was a bit of internal bleeding, some bruises and cuts but the doctors said he would recover. He’d waited around, hoping to talk with some family or a caregiver but no one showed up except the social worker.

Apparently the mother had been an orphan and the father hadn’t been in contact with his family in years. There was no one to get in touch with.

Their baby was alone.

Without his parents all he had left was his name.

Henry.

Perhaps it was out of line or even unhealthy but… he just couldn’t leave him.

He was so small and so hurt with nobody there… it was too much.

So he visited. Twice on his own, just to check on his condition, spend a little time with him.

The third time she asked to come with. She was curious about the child who’d left her husband so captivated.

She’d tried to play it cool but he’d seen it in her eyes, in the way her face had lit up. The nurse had said she could hold him and he hadn’t seen a brighter smile from her in years. She took one look into his hazel eyes and she was in love.

Together, they stood over his crib in the pediatric ward and in one simple moment they looked into each other’s eyes and they knew.

This was their son.

It took time. They had to jump through so many hoops and hurdles, convincing the social worker, making sure things were in order but two months later their home became his. And six months after that so did their name.

It felt like a relief signing those papers. Knowing that the wait was over, that they’d no longer have to wonder, if and when they’d ever be parents. Their wait was over. He was a father and his wife was a mother. And he’d felt 20 pounds lighter.

It was an adjustment having Henry, one they were happy to make but truth be told another baby was the last thing on their minds when they decided to bring a second child into their lives.

Things hit closer to home this time.

In all his life he’d only loved two women, however the first had decided that she also loved women. Despite this their split had been rather amicable. So much so that she’d even made him the godfather to her son, a beautiful, brown-eyed little boy that he loved but saw rarely at best. It was a role he’d expected to be more fluff than concrete.

Oh, how wrong he’d been.

He’d never forget answering her call and hearing her news. She’d been such a vibrant, unstoppable force to him. Yet, all it took to bring her down was a 3cm growth on the left side of her brain.

They’d caught it early but detection didn’t amount to much. All it did was give her just enough time to say goodbye.

Within six months he watched as his wife held his first love’s hand and promised to care for her son as if he was her own. She slipped away only moments later, right before their eyes.

It was a rougher transition this time. Honestly, it took months for him to actually start feeling like their little boy instead of hers.

With the shadow of his birth mother hanging above them it was hard not to feel like they were intruding in a space that they should never have had the chance to fill. They struggled with what they wanted him to call them, it was a discussion that went on for weeks, until one day he’d looked up and called him “daddy.”

It was in that moment they knew they’d never correct him. They hadn’t exactly chosen their second son but he did choose them. And that was enough to make things clear.

They agreed to do whatever it took to keep his birth mother’s spirit alive in his life but from now on Roland was their son. No one else’s.

Two boys turned out to be a handful. Even with her watchful eyes and his strict tone the house was more often than not in a state of chaos.

Things changed. Saturdays morning were now for cartoons, not gym time. Her more elaborate meals had been replaced with mac and cheese. The house was never quiet and sleeping in was certainly a thing of the past.

But they loved it. They loved their lives and they loved their boys. With everything in their heart, they loved them. Things were so close to perfect, their life was nearly complete...

But still there was something missing.

It was an ordinary Tuesday morning when she’d rolled over in bed, tapped him on his chest and said the words he never knew he’d been waiting for.

“I want a little girl.”

It took two years to find her.

Two years of close calls and almost maybes, of stress and heartache and changed minds… but they found her.

They found their little girl.

Her birth mother was just a kid, barely out of high school. Smart, driven and clearly kind, with clear blue eyes that she’d passed down to their daughter.

She wanted to give her baby more than she could offer. Once or twice a year she visits but keeps her distance for the most part. She’d said it was the only thing that helped to keep the pain at bay.

Sometimes it made him feel guilty to know that the hardest day of her life had been one of the best of theirs but he’ll always be grateful for the decision that she made.

She gave them their baby girl and they’ll never be able to thank her enough.

Their little Elizabeth is absolutely perfect.

From the moment he’d met his wife all he’d wanted to do was give her a fairytale happy ending. But he’d forgotten that happy endings don’t come before difficult journeys, they come afterward.

Sometimes he wonders how different things would be if they’d gotten the ending that he’d originally planned. Would things have been easier? Simpler? Less heart wrenching? Maybe.

But then he thinks of his three children and he remembers that even if their family had been planted in pain, it bloomed into joy.

All three of their children have different stories, none with a happy beginning. And if he and his wife had gotten the happy ending they’d originally wanted then maybe their children wouldn’t have gotten theirs.

And that’s a thought that neither of them can bear to entertain.

None of their three children had come into the world as theirs but in the end that doesn’t really matter.

All that matters is that they’d wanted nothing more than to be parents.

And now they finally are.

@oqpromptparty

#outlaw queen #oq ff #regina mills #robin hood #oq prompt party #hood-mills family #henry mills #roland hood

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headsinavice · 7 years

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Here's a photo of my grandma as a teenager/young adult with her siblings. She's on the far left. She was born in 1935 to a mother who was a school teacher and a father who worked for either the railroad or the electric company. He wasn't around much so her mother raised five kids on her own. They lived in a one room house and literally had to walk miles to get to the one room school house where thier mother taught. I don't know much more about thier life other than they also spent a lot of time in London, Ontario with thier four aunts and uncle. And that thier mom often had to let the youngest of siblings live with another family because they didn't have much money. My grandma got married when she was 20, to my grandfather who built houses and raced hybrid boats. They moved very often, making home in many cities. He passed away in 1978, leaving her to raise three children as a hairdresser. She never remarried or even entertained the idea of dating. After her husband died she dove right into her Catholic faith and became involved with providing faith outreach to prisoners. She became a grandmother to six grandchildren. Four of them lived in Alberta, while I often made home with my grandma and my mom. My mom was a waitress so she often dropped me with my grandma and some of my fondest memories were hanging out in the hair salon. She later hired me to work with her on weekends, which I think is why I grew such a love for seniors. When my sister was born she even took the role of a caregiver for her as well. She was then retired but would often watch my sister when no one else could. My grandma had the biggest heart. She was stern. But she always loved with her most ability. She always had a shoulder and a warm set if arms when you needed a good hug and had a solution for every problem. She often would say "it will work out as it needs" and would remind us that our lives were in God's hands and he had a plan for all of us. She was always right. It's a really weird thought that there is a world where she doesn't exist within a body. I won't be able to give her a hug and a kiss whenever I want, or tuck her in every night and tell her "see you in the morning". She isn't going to send me to the grocery store to get her something random because we forgot it the day before. I'm not going to be able to go upstairs on a Friday evening and hear her singing along to the Gaither gospel hour. She won't have me looking up a million different Mac and cheese recipes anymore and I fully regret not asking her how she always made her tomato sauce fresh. Holidays will be difficult because she was one of the few people who got fully into it and would always spend more than she had to make sure we would all be happy. But I know that she's upstairs in heaven, walking without her walker, hanging out with Mildred. My grandfather is probably making her pasta, and she's probably sitting outside enjoying the heat on a warm sunny day. I'm going to miss her so much but knowing that she is probably comfortable and with the people she loves makes it a bit easier.

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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[SP] Slaves

As sun broke over the gently sloping hills at the edge of the kingdom, Penelope awoke to its rays gently pushing her eyelids open. Often she was reluctant to rise with the sun, but today was no ordinary day – today marked, to the day, the thirteenth year since her birth. Such an occasion would hold significance to anyone, but as the princess of Gregaria, her foray into adulthood would be met with a celebration unlike any other. For, once a member of the royal family had reached their teenaged years, they were then expected to begin taking on royal duties. The occasion was marked with a formal coronation ceremony, where all the nobles gathered to behold the mantle of monarchy placed figuratively and literally on her shoulders.

And the day had finally come for Penelope. She sat upright in her bed almost as soon as she had fully awoken. She had much preparation to complete before the evening’s festivities – her servants would need quick and steady hands to ensure that she would be in peak presentability. For many of them, she had only a precarious faith in their ability to diligently perform their duties – she often mused that she could instead place her care in nobler hands and minds, but then, the work of servants was unbecoming and unsuited to the nature of the higher class. The servants, on the other hand, as they were not always perfectly cognizant of the best and most efficient way to perform their menial labours, could certainly not be trusted with anything requiring less supervision and instruction, for they were simply by nature unable to comprehend the higher rationalities necessary to govern others or themselves. It was something of a paradox, but it couldn’t be helped. Such was the natural order of things in the world – there were sovereign, and there were slaves.

Though even within these distinct groups, not all were created equally. Penelope had, without question, been met both with royals who were benevolent, and royals who were malicious; royals who governed peacefully, and those who enforced order with an iron fist. Conversely, she had dealt with servants belonging to a varied spectrum: those who were quite proficient at preparing her meals, for example, and those who were little more use than as a body to keep her seat warm.

She would need no seat-warming today. She would need the aid of her most trusted servant.

With the ring of a small bell which rested at her bedside, a stout woman of about forty years emerged from an adjacent chamber. “Morning, young mistress,” she said in a Germanic accent. She came to the side of the princess’s bed, placing a pair of silk slippers on the floor for her to step into. On her arm she carried a thin robe, which she also offered. “And what a morning it is! I’ve been ‘eating up your bath, I imagine it’d be nice and warm for ye now.”

Penelope smiled, taking the robe and stepping into the slippers. “Thank you, Miss,” came her response, in an accent coloured by her years studying Latin. The woman smiled back. Most royals would never even consider to thank a lowly servant simply for fulfilling the role expected of them. But Penelope was not like most royals, and this servant was particularly special to her. For as long as she could remember, and probably before even that, Penelope had been in the care of this woman. She was the one who helped Penelope learn to walk and talk (though the accent had to be unlearned), who saw that she was fed and clothed, and for all intents and purposes was her primary caregiver. Of course, the kingdom’s scholars and philosophers saw to her formal education, but in matters of a more personal nature her parents were obviously too busy ruling the kingdom to spend time raising her. And so, she was left in the hands of a woman whose name she did not know – if she had a name at all.

Many of the servants didn’t have names; after all, what was the point? Their masters had no reason to refer to any of them specifically unless more than one of them was in the room, and then a distinction could be made by pointing a finger. The servants were never called upon for conversation, for what could they possibly have to say that would stimulate the mind of the one with whom they spoke? They were not afforded the same conversational niceties as the upper class, for they were unworthy of consideration in such matters (who cries for the hurt feelings of a slave?). In all manner of daily business, most saw no more reason to bestow a name upon their servant than they saw to bestow a name on the blades of grass in the palace garden, or the bricks and mortar which built the castle’s walls.

But the relationship between the princess and her would-be au pair, while far from putting them on equal footing, was more than that between most masters and servants. So Penelope had taken to calling her “Miss”. Though even such an affectation toward a servant would be seen as unbecoming of a royal such as herself – as such, she did her best only to use it in private.

Privacy was afforded to her now, as she made her way to the adjoining room. Toward one corner there was a large wooden basin filled with gently steaming water, its underside protected by a metal plate to ensure that the small fire crackling underneath would only warm the water, and not incinerate the tub itself. She removed the robe, slippers, and finally her pajamas before descending into the water, allowing its warmth to envelope her. It did little to ease the multitude of thoughts spinning round her mind, but nevertheless it was quite physically relaxing.

Once she was submerged in the tub so as to allow as much modesty as possible, Miss joined her in the room and set to work washing the princess’s hair. She had done it many times before, and if one looked at her arms they would notice that they were markedly cleaner up to the point where the princess’s bathwater met her elbow than they were elsewhere. Penelope tried to relax, but there was so much on her mind. She must have shown it on her face, because Miss could tell she was troubled.

“Ye must be nervous fer the big day, are ye, Princess?” she spoke softly as she lathered.

Penelope smiled weakly, for she was accustomed to Miss being able to tell exactly how she felt with merely a look. “I suppose I am,” she admitted. “My entire life has been leading to this day. But there are so many things that could go wrong – I must be sure that I don’t make a mistake! What if I should misconjugate a verb and inadvertently say something rude? What if I should trip and fall as I make my way across the stage? What if my knees were to buckle under the weight of the royal garb?” She lowered herself in the water, so that her mouth and most of her nose were submerged.

Miss smiled knowingly. “Yer right, princess – there’s lots what could go wrong today. And y’know, maybe I ‘aven’t ‘ad to be in yer position, but it seems to me that there’s two ways to look at it. It all comes down to just one thing: can ye do somethin’ about it, or can’t ye? ‘Cos if ye can, then ye got nothin’ to fear, ‘cos then you can just go an’ do it. And if ye can’t, then ye still got nothin’ to fear, ‘cos all the fear in the world won’t change it, so ye might as well just let it ‘appen. Now, ye said it yerself, ye’ve been preparin’ yer whole life fer today, so I’d say ye’ve done just about all that can be done. So, best stop lettin’ it bother ye and just let it ‘appen. I’m sure ye’ve got nothin’ to worry about.”

This made Penelope feel marginally better. She still felt nervous, but the moths in her belly had turned to butterflies. Miss always had a way of calming her, even when she was younger and much more difficult to tame. Back then, she had relied on her trusted servant for so much more – but over the years, imparting wisdoms such as she had just done, she had moulded Penelope into the young woman that she was today. Of course, without her academic teachings, she would undoubtedly be ill-prepared for her destiny as a ruler. But there was something to be said for the things she had learned outside the walls of the library. No scroll could soothe the cries of a child with a scraped knee, and teach her that every hardship breeds greater strength within. No logic would suffice to talk her down in times of anger, and teach her that rash decisions made with a clouded mind will all but inevitably become regretful. And no mathematics equation could predict that she would be forced to face the death of her most favored pony, and teach her that an end must come to every beginning.

All this, and so much more, Miss had done for her through the years. There were moments when Penelope forgot that she was even a servant, so blurred was the line that separated them at times. No royal had ever bestowed such wisdom on her. Whether they didn’t think to share with her, or simply were not themselves as enlightened as she now was, she did not know. But in either case, she couldn’t help but wonder – could it be that the lower class did, in fact, have something more to offer than mere servitude? If given the opportunity, could they flourish into thinkers in their own right, offering new and unique perspectives on any number of considerations?

She found it difficult to believe that the current social order would have ever fallen into place had it not been for some concrete dichotomy between the classes. Nevertheless, there were undoubtedly diamonds in the rough of peasantry, and there were just as undoubtedly flies in the ointment of sovereignty. She was grateful to have come to know such an exceptional (for a servant) woman, a privilege which must only come to a royal on rare occasion. She would have never grown to become so wise, confident, and driven in a lifetime of self-guided exploration, as she had in thirteen years under the wing of Miss. She hardly knew what to do without her.

As the morning continued to draw forward, Penelope continued the preparations necessary for the coming ceremony. It would take the better part of the day – once her bath had finished, she was treated to a large breakfast of eggs, fruit, toasted bread and seasoned meats, for she would not have much opportunity for sustenance once she began to dress for the evening. (Miss, for her part, made do with a bowl of cold, plain porridge.) After breakfast, she spent some time in front of the mirror for what must have been the hundredth time, practicing the proper rituals and utterances that she would be required to perform that night. Once her food had had time to digest, Miss set about helping her secure her corset, drawing the strings so tightly that neither woman was sure whether it would be the thread or Penelope’s own ribs which would snap first under the pressure. She detested having to wear the thing, which constricted her breathing to little more than a shallow wisp. But it was expected of a lady, particularly of a princess, and so she could bear it if she must.

After the corset came the stockings, the tunic, and finally the outer dress, which was so voluminous and extravagant that Penelope wondered how she could be expected to traverse the various archways between her room and the castle’s keep in order to make it to the ceremony. It was adorned at seemingly every possible surface with gemstones and with threads imbued with gold and silver, such that any which way the light struck it, there was a dazzling gleam to behold. This also had the unfortunate effect of doubling or tripling the weight of the already hefty fabric – luckily for Penelope her birthday fell in the autumn months, for if she had been born in the heat of summer she would surely have fainted under the many layers she wore today.

But still, there was more to come! For once she had been properly dressed, her hair could be styled and cosmetics could be applied to her face. Miss set about braiding and pinning Penelope’s hair to a shape intricate, yet not so grandiose as to obstruct her tiara, or to become a nuisance once the ceremony was under way. Finally, she applied a whitish paste to the princess’s face so as to even out her complexion slightly, before layering a touch of rouge onto her cheeks and lips to bring life back to her expression.

Finally, the preparations were complete. Penelope returned to the mirror, taking in her lavish appearance in full for the first time. She could hardly recognize herself under the many layers of decoration which now covered every inch of her – if she had seen a portrait of the reflection looking back at her, and not known it was her own image, she would never have guessed. Miss sidled up behind her, looking over her shoulder into the mirror’s frame. “Quite a transformation, eh, Princess?” She beamed with pride from ear to ear. “Ye look positively beautiful, my dear. It might take a bit o’ gettin’ used to, but this is yer life now. Startin’ tomorrow, ye’ll be a full-fledged ruler o’ this kingdom. Lots’ll change. But if ye can do just one thing for an ol’ woman, let it be this – don’t ye ever forget who ye are underneath all that dollin’ up.”

She placed a hand lovingly on Penelope’s shoulder. The princess smiled, fighting back a tear in her eye (lest she ruin her makeup), and placed her own hand on top of Miss’s. “If I should ever begin to falter, I know just who to turn to,” she promised.

For an instant, she thought she saw the smile on Miss’s face break – but so quickly the moment passed, she wasn’t sure if she had truly seen anything or if she had simply imagined it. Nevertheless, there was no time to dwell on such things – the hour of the ceremony was upon them.

Penelope made her way to the castle’s keep, leaving Miss to tidy the room. A member of the palace guard met her just outside her bedroom door to serve as an escort. They walked down the spire and through the halls of the castle, the chatter of the various noblemen and noblewomen growing louder and more chaotic as they drew nearer to their destination. Finally, they came to the end of a hallway, and met with a curtain that separated them from the bustling crowd who awaited her. Here they stood in wait – she would present herself once summoned, and not before. But from where she stood, though she was not visible to the congregation within, she could see most of the room and what was happening in it clearly. It wasn’t long before the notes of a bugle horn sounded over the voices of the crowd, followed by another horn and another joining in succession.

A hush fell over the crowd, as they turned their attention to the source of the sound. Near the front of the room stood the three buglers, who now separated to allow the town crier to step forward and begin the proceedings:

“Presenting: His Royal Highness, King Emrys the Merciful, and Her Majesty, Queen Lydia the Benevolent!”

Opposite to Penelope, her father and mother entered the room, to the renewed trumpeting of the bugle horns and the applause of the audience. They took their seats in the thrones which sat at the very front of the room, elevated slightly above the level of the already elevated floor in that section. Once they were seated, her father raised a hand to silence the crowd, and he need hardly to lift a finger before they knew to quiet themselves. The king then nodded to the crier to continue. So he did:

“And for the first time, on this, the day of her thirteenth year, her highness, the princess Penelope!”

It was all over with surprisingly quickly. Once she had heard her name, she entered the room as her parents had, and greeted the crowd with a bow before taking her place adjacent to her father. She had focused so deeply on the procedural process of it all that she completely forgot to be nervous. A series of key phrases back and forth between her father and herself, a cup of wine to toast, and a signature to keep official document of the exchange, and she found herself kneeling before the king, with a great purple cape trimmed with exotic furs being placed upon her shoulders. She stood, turned to the crowd, and watched as they bowed before her for the first time as subjects.

Now that the event was finally over, all the anxiety she had been feeling for the days and weeks leading up to today had melted away, leaving only a bubbling stream of excitement in its place. She struggled to maintain her composure as she was escorted back to her room – it was all she could do not to skip along the corridors. But most of all, she simply could not wait to talk to Miss, and tell her all about the ceremony. Of course, her excitement made the walk back to the spire seem even longer than usual. Her many layers of clothing, now topped with the ceremonial cape, weighed down on her as they drudged along. She supposed that the cape wouldn’t be such a burden if not for the overly extravagant dress she was still wearing; she was eager to remove it in favor of her usual attire.

After what seemed like an age, she was finally back to her bedroom. Immediately she made for the bell at her bedside table and gave it a ring. From the adjacent room, an unfamiliar servant came – Miss was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, Penelope was disappointed, but considering the late hour, she surmised that Miss had already retired for the evening. She decided that the sooner she could drift off to sleep herself, the sooner the morning would come, and she could tell Miss everything. With this new servant’s help, she shed the many layers of formal wear, wiped away the cosmetics applied to her skin, and nestled herself away under the layers of quilted blankets on her bed. Despite the anticipatory ideas racing through her mind, she eventually found sleep.

The next morning, the sun rose over the hills, pushing her eyelids open once more. She awoke even more rapidly than she had the previous day, and quickly clasped the bell. But again, she would be disappointed. This time, from the adjoining room, came a group of servants, five in all. Accompanying them was a squire, not much older than herself.

Penelope furrowed her brow. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded. “Where is Mi—” She stopped herself. “Where is my usual servant?”

The squire bowed deeply. “Apologies, your highness,” he spoke without rising. “I have orders from your father.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. She motioned for him to stand. The squire then detached a scroll from his belt, unrolled it and read:

“To my Daughter Penelope: you have no doubt become accustomed to relying heavily on the servitude of the woman who cared for you since your childhood. But as of now, you are no longer a child, and you no longer have any use for a caretaker. As such, I have sent her to work in the fields – I trust that she still has the vigor to provide a few years’ labor before her flesh betrays her. In her stead, I have gathered the most trusted servants, not just in this castle, but in all of Gregaria, for you to choose from. I trust that they will serve you well.”

The squire rolled up the parchment, tying it back to his belt. Penelope sat in shock. So casually came her father’s words – words he did not even care to relay by his own mouth. For a moment she remained still, stunned by what she had heard. Eventually she came back into focus, realizing the squire was still waiting expectantly. She raised a finger and pointed to the nearest servant to her.

“You.” The squire bowed again, and the other four servants followed him out of sight. All Penelope wanted to do was to bury her head in her hands and sob. But she was not afforded that luxury. She was a full-fledged royal now. She had an appearance to maintain.

She rose from her bed and began her morning routine with this new servant, these unfamiliar hands washing her hair and tying her clothing. Finally came the cape she had earned on the previous night. The cape that marked the end of her old life, and the beginning of her life anew. She had hoped it would be less of a burden without the extra weight she had carried last night dragging her down.

She was wrong.

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oovitus · 6 years

Text

Getting Health Care Right: A Conversation with Cynthia Hundorfean

When somebody asks Allegheny Health Network (AHN) CEO Cynthia Hundorfean why she’s so passionate about getting health care right, she often tells a story about her youngest daughter, Jenna Michelle.

By the time Jenna was 18 months old, she was in constant abdominal pain. A few months later, she was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, a chronic inflammation of the digestive tract. It took the doctors a while to figure it out, because most Crohn’s patients don’t see major symptoms before adolescence.

But her daughter’s case was worse than most — in fact, she was one of the youngest Crohn’s patients her doctors had ever encountered. For years, physicians tried to manage her condition with anti-inflammatory steroids, which wasn’t a long-term solution, and had the side effect of stunting Jenna’s growth.

When Jenna turned 10, she was the height and weight of a much younger girl, and it was clear she’d need surgery. Her parents agreed it was time for a corrective operation known as a J-pouch procedure. It’s a major, multi-step surgery involving the removal of the colon and a total re-wiring of the digestive tract, and with a patient so young, there’s no recovery road map.

Jenna’s story has a happy ending. After the surgery, she grew rapidly, and today she is in good health. But those days, nights, weekends — more than eight years in all — spent in and out of the hospital helped make Hundorfean into the health care executive that she is today, one who is concerned not just about clinical outcomes and company finances, but also about the whole patient experience.

“I literally lived in a hospital with her all those years. I saw what went on throughout the day, and throughout the night, and on the weekends. And I saw when caregivers were stretched, and all the stresses that they had,” Hundorfean says. “It was very formative, and it’s why I’m committed to our network providing the very best in patient experience.

“From a patient’s and a family’s perspective, I saw all the things that were important. The people who are coming in to clean the rooms, the dietary staff bringing the food, are as important in a lot of ways as the clinicians who are providing the care,” she says. “It’s the soft touch; it’s the people who really surround the patient all day long in their rooms that make a huge difference in these patients’ lives.”

Allegheny Health Network at the Five-Year Mark

Bill Toland (BT): AHN celebrated its five-year anniversary in April 2018. What accomplishments are you most proud of?

Cynthia Hundorfean (CH): A few things — the financial turnaround of AHN was accomplished with a lot of hard work by a lot of people, who were laser-focused on “getting it right.” I’m also very proud of our outstanding leadership team throughout AHN — they have all worked together, and I would like to think we are starting to talk with one voice. One of the things I’m most proud of is putting key physicians and nurses into leadership positions throughout our network so all clinicians have a voice in our major decisions.

BT: What are the most important things still left to do?

CH: We have work to do in making our system financially stable for the long run. There are many challenges from a reimbursement perspective that will continue to impact all health care organizations across the country.

We also have to constantly focus on enhancing our quality of care and patient experience in all of our clinical areas. We have the right people in place to make this happen, but every person throughout our hospital system will need to play a part in this. It’s like mowing the grass — our work will never be done in these areas.

One more thing: Our clinicians are passionate about research, and we have some important studies and trials occurring within our system. We need to give them the resources they need to continue to advance their work. In addition, we need to continue to educate future generations of health care professionals and provide support to our 48 graduate medical programs and nursing schools.

BT: Have you ever been part of an organization that has done so much, so fast? AHN has had more than half-a-dozen ground breakings in the last few months — most health networks our size won’t have that many in a decade.

CH: No, I haven’t. The speed at which we are moving is pretty amazing, and we have great faith in our leaders and all of the employees who are executing on these projects, which are so critical to our patient-centered vision and strategy for long-term success.

BT: Can we jump ahead to 2020? What does AHN look like?

CH: We will be bigger and stronger, and continue to increase our market share in western Pennsylvania. The quality and patient experiences we will provide will be unsurpassed by any other system. And we will continue to invest in our key service lines and push care out into the communities, close to our patients’ homes.

BT: What will the health care market look like for people living in western Pennsylvania?

CH: Western Pennsylvania is a highly competitive health care market. I believe that the end of the Consent Decree in June 2019 will provide greater clarity for patients as to which health system best aligns to their needs, preferences and values. And I’m certain that many of them will continue to choose AHN. Our high-quality, innovative and compassionate care will be what truly distinguishes us in the communities we serve.

Building on a Culture of Dedication, Caring and Compassion

BT: You often discuss the importance of culture at AHN. What are some of the positive elements that are permanently embedded into the AHN workplace/research culture?

CH: Even though AHN was created just five years ago, the hospitals that came together to form AHN have a long history of first-class medicine and community service. You can feel it as you walk through the hallways of our hospitals. Many of our staff members have been here through the best times and the worst times, which shows a level of dedication, caring and compassion that is undeniable.

BT: What about our culture has changed the most over the last few years?

CH: A feeling of hope and optimism. The financial turnaround has given all of our employees a reason to celebrate, knowing that our future is more secure, which will allow us to continue to do great things for our patients.

I also think that involving the physicians and nurses in the decisions we make has had a great positive influence on everyone. They are playing leading roles in charting our path forward.

BT: When you are recruiting someone to join AHN, what is your pitch? How do you sell them on us?

CH: I don’t need to pitch AHN. We are in a position where others from across the country are watching what we are doing with our integrated delivery and financing system (IDFS). They are seeing great momentum, not just from AHN, but from our entire Highmark Health enterprise. Physicians from both inside and outside Pittsburgh have great interest in our physician-led model of care, and they are knocking at our door asking to be a part of it.

Collaborating to Build Better Health Care Systems

BT: Let’s talk about our enterprise-wide collaboration model. From the Johns Hopkins Sidney Kimmel Cancer Center, to LECOM and Warren General Hospital, to Highmark Health and Penn State, to the joint venture with Emerus to build neighborhood hospitals, why is collaboration the way forward?

CH: These kinds of partnerships are going to be key for our organization going forward. You can’t do it all yourself — Highmark Health has been brilliant at strategically picking the partners that will move our organization forward, creating partnerships that help all parties. From an AHN perspective, we will learn how we can be even better from these organizations, and how we can provide better care for our patients.

To use one example, our affiliation with Johns Hopkins Sidney Kimmel Cancer Center has given us access to many new cancer research trials, and they have access to our trials. Our patients also can get second opinions from the great physicians at Johns Hopkins. It’s all about putting patients at the center of everything we do — if it’s good for our patients, it’s good for us.

BT: Every health care organization wants to transform health care. What sets AHN and Highmark Health apart from other organizations trying to do this?

CH: We have the ideal set-up to do it best. We’re a clinician-led IDFS that is actually doing what others want to do — finding creative ways to reduce the cost of health care, improving how our patients and members access our services, and providing the highest quality of care. On the AHN side, we are also shifting to a clinician-led “institute” model of care, which organizes care around the disease and the specialty, not around the hospital. It’s a geographically agnostic model that puts the patient at the epicenter of our planning, and is focused on dispensing care in a way that best serves all of our patients, and all of the communities within our service footprint.

For those reasons and many more, we are an organization that others are paying attention to across the country.

BT: We talk a lot about affordability. What does value mean to you and to our patients?

CH: It means providing the highest quality of care to our patients that is affordable and accessible. That’s why we are striving to reduce the waste in the cost of care for our patients, and it’s why we are so focused on providing new and innovative ways for our patients to access our services. For example, we will increasingly offer care in the comfort of our patients’ homes through web-based appointments, and our Healthcare@Home program. That’s better for the patient, and it saves the system money, too.

BT: A few months ago, a local publication asked you whether you were concerned about Amazon announcing plans to get into the health care industry. You said that you were excited about the news, and that “Maybe they come up with something that we can learn from and utilize here….We are constantly trying to figure out new ways to do things.” I think that speaks to your leadership style — about a willingness to embrace change and transformation. Is that openness hardwired, or do you have to learn it?

CH: That was always part of my DNA. As I was growing in my career, we were constantly encouraged to reach out, not only to the health care industry, but other industries too, to see what they were doing that was unique and different that could be applied to health care. We were all encouraged to take one innovation trip a year, and come back and share what we learned with other leaders. We actually adopted a lot of the things that we learned, and made new contacts outside of the health care industry that were very valuable.

BT: Does that risk-taking gene become more dominant as you move along in your career?

CH: I don’t think I’d call it risk-taking — I always want to know what we’re getting into, and I’ve always been pretty thoughtful about implementing new things. One, because it’s hard to do, and two, it’s hard to get everybody on board with that new idea. So if you’re going to do something like that, you really have to socialize it very, very deeply among the clinical staff. By the time you’re done socializing, reviewing and testing, a lot of the risk has been mitigated, and all of the clinicians are ready to go.

BT: Have you ever worked on the clinical side?

CH: At a very early age, I started working in a physician’s office that was in a dialysis center within a hospital. And in doing that, I realized that I really wanted to be in health care. So I ended up being a dialysis technician for about a year, doing dialysis treatments. That wasn’t the right position for me, though. I became too attached to the patients because they came in several times each week for their treatments.

I thought that health care administration might be the right path for me, so I started taking on supervisory, then management, then leadership positions throughout the system. My main goal was to work side by side with the physicians to allow them to provide the best care possible for our patients. I had the privilege of leading several different clinical areas during my career, which gave me a lot of experience in understanding the needs of our clinicians.

BT: What was your biggest lesson learned from your daughter’s prolonged illness?

CH: That no matter who you are — a health care professional, a patient, a family member �� you have to pay attention to the details, and you have to speak up when you think something could be done better. I think it’s hard for people to speak up — but they need to, and they should. It’s the only way we can always provide the very best care for our patients.

Getting Health Care Right: A Conversation with Cynthia Hundorfean published first on

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braindamageforbeginners · 6 years

Photo

Day 56

So, another teachable moment. As I've mentioned, having a dangerous, chronic disease is a full-time job. Healthy people tend to scoff when I say that. I've been told that people in my position have careers, kids, etc. and still find time to manage their disease. Which always makes me a little defensive - given that GBM has 50-85% mortality rate, I'd argue that at least half of us don't successfully do that. Which isn't to say that you can cure cancer with will-power, or that only the weak succumb; merely that we live in a system that requires massive time and effort to successfully navigate. Yesterday, I refilled one prescription, completed more paperwork in my on-going feud with the California Department of Motor Vehicles, and tried to get the pharmacy to release the next round of chemo drugs (it's not like they're medically necessary). That was it. That literally took seven hours - I timed it. And I'm still waiting to hear back from CVS and the DMV. I didn't even play with my pill organizer. If any of my neighbors hear wailing and gnashing of teeth coming from my vicinity, it might be a medical emergency. Or it might just be me realizing I have a 48-page form I have to fill out and sign in my physician’s blood to get the okay for some treatment or another.

I figured I’d illustrate this point visually. In the top photo, you’ll note a file folder containing this month’s billing problem (technically, it’s November’s billing problem, the hospital just didn’t feel the need to inform me of it until mid-January), atop a packet of the latest doctor’s orders/appointments for me atop an envelope containing several attractive financial aid/insurance/desperate ploys (and the latest round of DMV medical paperwork) that I’m very certain I’ll be filling out in the near future. At this point, death itself is not looking too bad (although, given my luck, there is an afterlife, and it’ll require 4000 pages of paperwork to get in)(Or have I just accidentally described Purgatory? Someone with formal theological training let me know). Not pictured in that is the on-going crisis to get CVS to release my damned chemo drugs (I know, I usually go to great pains to protect the anonymity of my caregivers, but I think if a large, faceless chain accidentally kills me due to bureaucratic incompetence or negligence, I want everyone to know).

Good news on that one; I did find out that my insurance company has some special form they require for a chemotherapy renewal, and I did manage to track that down and send it on the the Warlocks’ administrative team. And, better news, I have apparently gotten the attention of CVS, because I’m getting calls back - from an actual human being, mind you; not She-Terminator, robo-representative of the Health Industrial Complex - assuring me that I ain’t got no problem, they’re on the motherfucker. Which means that my current strategy of calling them every few hours and politely asking if there is anything I can do to expedite the process might pay dividends (I have a little more faith in the Warlock’s administrative staff who e-mailed me this morning saying that they’d received the forms, and would contact CVS and the insurance company directly). The lesson of today is, when you, the unwashed masses show up and offer to help people do their job - in any capacity you can - you would be amazed how competent they become. That’s not even intended as a jab; I just called the Warlocks’ administrative nurse (not Research Coordinator, it should be noted) to ask about getting the next round of chemo, who gave me the direct line to CVS, who noted there was some sort of insurance hold-up, which led me to dredge though the depths of my e-mail, and found some arcane prior authorization form from my very evil insurance company (I’ll get around to describing them with very some very florid language), which I then sent back to the Warlocks and their staff, and now I’m getting calls from CVS telling me to leave them alone. Which means I’ll repeat the process tomorrow. And the day after. Until one of us gives up (perhaps in a rather dramatic sense, in my case). Or - and there’s a solid chance of this - the Warlocks and Mad Scientist Oncologist use their considerable juice to convince some local apothecary to provide me the next round of chemo. Again, even though it is slightly pejorative, I do refer to them as necromancers because, as someone who’s been traversing the medical system his entire adult life - in various roles; mostly from the patient side - I have never seen anything like their ability to instantly conjure up whatever I need to stay alive immediately. Which makes me feel like all I need to do is help out with the paperwork as best I can.

I also did get my teeth cleaned; the dental staff were all lovely and indulged my new-found X-ray phobia (if you’re reading, hi guys), although I’ll ask Radiation Oncologist about that next time I see her (avoiding X-rays as a permanent life stragegy, I mean). And no new cavities, and I’m at low-risk for cavities, so, that’s one less thing to worry about.

And the new, lucky chemo shirt arrived yesterday (also picture above). I figured if I’m going to refer to it as the Captain America serum, I might as well look the part. Thanks to Donna, who sent me the original lucky chemo socks, which planted that idea in my head.

ANYWAY… WEIGHT: 213 lb (I guess I underestimated the weight-gain effect of those steroids) CONCENTRATION:Pretty good - good enough to wade through more and more paperwork. APPETITE: Good ACTIVITY LEVEL: Good, but I’m definitely starting to feel the wear and tear of the past few months. I woke up exhausted, and now I feel unbelievably tired. Still, I did go to the gym and complete most of the tasks before me (well, the immediate, must-do-today ones). SLEEP QUALITY: Excellent. I’m starting to dream again, which is something that’s been depressed - to some extent - after each surgery (and I’m still in the recovery period for that; let alone all the radiation and chemo fun). COORDINATION/DEXTERITY: Excellent. MEMORY: Still improving, but still patchy. I can’t multitask anymore - not that I really could beforehand, but now, if I don’t complete a task, there’s a chance it’ll take me a few minutes to remember to come back to it. PHYSICAL: Okay. I’m feeling fatigued, and I still have headaches, but I’m also successfully cutting back on the Tylenol without problems. And tomorrow, I’ll be completely off of steroids; I’ve been on a 1 mg-a-day dosage for the last week and functioning, and, logically, if I’m no longer on anti-inflammatory drugs (apart from the Tylenol, which I think even a healthy person would mainline if they had to wade through the paperwork I’ve been tackling this week), things should be improving. Which just means, given my luck, my brain will explode tonight. SIDE EFFECTS: Nothing new.

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