#and to make an example the last thing we need is our mother to attempt to use this disorder to try to connect to us

[uptoolateart]

The Miraculous Child

So, in 'Representation', Felix talks refers to ‘the miraculous boy’ a couple times. He also calls Adrien’s conception ‘a miracle’, meaning Adrien too is ‘miraculous’.

The second I heard this, it hit me that the title of the show has had this extra meaning from day one. If we look right back to the start of the series, it has been a story about children and adults, especially parents, some a little overbearing (like Tom) and some neglectful or downright abusive.

The message I take away is - life, bringing a child into the world, is a miracle. Science tells us how it works, but the fact that it works is almost like magic. Yet, there are people out there who fail to see this and don't value the gift they've been granted.

There will be people reading this and thinking, ‘Yeah? So what about Chloe?’

I hear you.

Audrey is a terrible person, and Andre is no better. When he hauls her off at the end of ‘Revolution’ and says he needs to correct his mistakes, he just sends her away with her mother. He’s washing his hands of ‘a problem’, just like he’s done with everything else, e.g. when he resigned as mayor. He walked away from responsibilities, after creating a mess for the people who voted him into office. Likewise, he walked away from his responsibilities as a father.

Does that excuse Chloe's behaviour towards others, especially Marinette? No. Does it explain it? Yes.

So, let's talk about choice, which has been mentioned several times in the series. Chloe has a choice to become just like one of her parents...or to become something better.

Because, if you think about it, at some point in time, Audrey and Andre and even Gabriel were all children. And children aren't just born nasty. They learn nastiness as they grow up. To become who they are today, they had to have started out in a similar position to Chloe, for example. They represent the potential future for their children.

If we saw them as kids, we'd probably see them being mistreated by the adults in their lives and we'd all sympathise with them and hope for their redemption. But we're seeing them as adults and our instinct is to say oh well, too late, they're just awful people. In fact, they could redeem themselves at any point, as demonstrated by Nathalie's turnaround in Season 5. It's just that, the more awful things you've done, the more you have to atone for. Gabriel would have to do a lot - maybe even have a brain change - to be redeemed. But you see my point.

So, at the end of 'Revolution', we see Chloe at a crossroads. She's on that plane, annihilated by her mother, and hiding by herself in a corner. She browses her contacts and hovers over Sabrina's entry...and her face crumples like her heart is breaking with regrets. Oh, it’s sad.

But she passes over Sabrina and moves onto Marinette. She makes one last attempt to bring her down. It’s an act of desperation – redirecting her own suffering onto another, trying to keep control over things when she’s completely out of control of her own life.

Marinette finally puts her in her place, and we see Chloe fall apart in a real way - for the first time ever. I don't know about you, but I found that very uncomfortable viewing. It was a relief to see Marinette stand up for herself, and it needed to happen...but Chloe's despair was also painful. I think all of those were emotions were intended.

Let’s set Thomas aside here. I don't want to get into debates about what was said on Twitter. He’s not the only writer for the show, anyway. I am just speaking about my personal perception of that scene. Chloe gained heaps of sympathy, after she’d been appalling all season, which was pretty powerful.

The fact is…Chloe needed to be put in her place. But that doesn’t mean she deserved everything she went through. Even so...sometimes these moments are necessary and revelatory. They can be the catalyst for great change.

What I mean is – if you're in denial about your position, redirecting your pain onto others, sometimes you need that wakeup call. You need to hit rock bottom in order to start climbing back up into the light. So, when Chloe fell apart, it was painful...but I also saw it as her potential turning point. As long as she maintained her delusions to escape into at school, it was impossible for her to transform - because she refused to see that there was any change needed. But when you have nothing left…that’s when you might begin rebuilding yourself.

Every episode in Season 5 has had multiple meanings. Looking at 'Revolution', when Chloe was akumatised, she trapped her victims in a maze, going round in endless circles (revolutions). Notably a lot of them were adults.

I think if this had happened early on in Season 4, Adrien would have been trapped morosely in that loop with the others. We saw this kind of thing in 'Guiltrip'. So, it spoke volumes about his growth as a character when he was the first one to seek a way out of Chloe's maze. He immediately used his cataclysm and broke a hole, escaping and letting everyone else out. Metaphorically, what he did was break the cycle. If we think about cycles of abuse, this is what the next generation always has the chance to do - to revolt against the past.

it's interesting, then, that when we got to 'Representation', we saw Cat Noir completely lose it with his father. He needed to let it all out...but he was in danger of going too far...and deep down, he knew it. His worst nightmare was of losing all control, to the point of letting his rage destroy everything he loved. Unconsciously, he's well aware that he runs the risk of becoming like his father. However, his complete breakdown, begging his father to take his miraculous to make it all stop, tells us he won't become like his father - because his conscience is too strong. He wants to break that cycle.

Felix has also done some bad things - but he's begun the journey of redeeming himself and changing. He too is trying to break out of that cycle so he doesn't become like his father.

Kagami is embracing her passionate side, rejecting the coldness and isolation her mother has attempted to breed into her, no doubt due to her own upbringing once upon a time.

And I think there’s definite potential for Chloe to do the same. There’s no reason for anyone to remain caught in these patterns. The trick is to recognise the pattern is there in the first place - because you can’t break free of something if you don’t know you’re imprisoned. At the end of Revolution, I think Chloe finally saw her prison, saw that she was already trapped in her own maze, going round in circles. Now it’s up to her to pull an Adrien and cataclysm the bars that hold her in.

Because like Felix said, over and over – each child is miraculous simply for existing. And miracles should be cherished.

PLEASE NO POST-REPRESENTATION SPOILERS IN COMMENTS :)

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #ml fandom #ml chloe #chloe bourgeois #audrey bourgeois #andre bourgeois #gabriel agreste's a+ parenting #gabriel agreste #ml gabriel #cat noir #chat noir #adrien agreste #ml adrien #ml felix #felix fathom #ml kagami #kagami tsurugi #ml meta #mlb meta #ml analysis #mlb analysis #ml s5 spoilers #ml s5 #ml spoilers #ml representation #ml revolution #ml marinette #marinette dupain cheng

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Practice

While it was true that Wei Ying and Lan Zhan had been travelling for the past two or three months to lands far away from the Cloud Recesses, neither of them had expected to find many changes in the place and the way it functioned upon their return.

The Lan sect rarely implemented new things and was resistant to giving up any of the old ones - so it was no wonder that the two were overcome with confusion upon walking through the gates of the Cloud Recesses and finding the junior disciples holding some very noisy dolls bundled up in blankets like newborns.

Sizhui, Jingyi, Zizhen and a few of their other friends had gathered underneath the large tree overlooking the bunny field, holding these dolls and talking amongst themselves not unlike a bunch of fresh mothers.

Some were feeding their dolls using little bottles with talismans on them, others rocked them to sleep, and the rest played and cooed at them like they were real children.

"What's going on here? What are you guys doing?" Wei Ying asked, at last, overcome with curiosity. "I don't remember a parenting class being taught around here."

"It was Zewu-Jun's idea." Sizhui responded, tucking his doll better in its blankets before continuing, "He argued that parenting and caring for others are important life skills we should be taught alongside cultivation and rules. So, we were given these dolls and instructions on how to care for them. For added realism, the dolls have talismans etched into them that simulate crying, laughing and other behaviors a real baby would have."

"And some babies are a lot worse than others." Jingyi whined, rocking his doll to his chest with the expression of an exhausted new mother that hadn't slept within the past several... lifetimes. "I don't think I'm ever going to have children if it means I only get to sleep when I close my eyes to blink."

Wei Ying laughed, taking his usual seat among the gaggle of juniors, his husband joining him a little a-ways. "How come you weren't paired up? Babies are usually a two-person project."

"That's what I said!" Jingyi replied, barely stopping himself in time from throwing his baby up in the air with a frustrated gesture. "But apparently we need to exercise independence and self-sufficiency... or whatever the hell else Zewu-Jun said."

"Jingyi, language." Sizhui chided, an apologetic look towards his seniors.

"I don't want to hear it, I'm too tired to care about the rules."

"Young parents are exempt from most rules." Hanguang-Jun intervened, "However, it is not advisable to curse in front of children."

"Yeah, they pick it up immediately! For example-"

"Let's not give examples." Sizhui cut in, knowing good and damn well senior Wei was about to tell an embarrassing story about him as a toddler.

Wei Ying snickered, ruffling Sizhui's hair. "Okay, no examples. So, how's fatherhood treating you? Since it seems like Jingyi got the short end of the stick here..."

"It's fine, my baby is quite calm and-"

"Sizhui's being modest for no reason, he's actually mastered this whole thing." Zizhen added as he attempted to burp his own baby. "He's so in tune with that doll, he knows when it's gonna go off crying and exactly what to do to calm it down!"

Sizhui blushed at the praise. "I have always been good with children, so it's not a big deal to me..."

Lan Zhan smiled a proud, rare smile towards him as he took Zizhen's doll to help, a little burping sound leaving it seconds later, and giggle following. "You must be patient. If you move too harshly, the baby will throw up."

"My, my, Hanguang-Jun is daddy material, who would've known!" Wei Ying teased, laughing at his husband's red ears. "Maybe we should get one of these babies too, you know, for practice."

"Wei Ying."

"Or we could always make our own~"

Jingyi sighed loudly as his baby began screeching. "Senior Wei, I slept 5 hours in the past three nights, please don't be shameless in front of me right now."

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts #lsz #ljy #oyzz

[pesterquestrewritten]

Sorry if this is an inappropriate question to ask, but why do you want to rewrite pesterquest? Was there anything wrong with its original version, or are you just doing this for fun?

brain is a Lil Loopy rn so please excuse if this answer is semi incoherent - recovering from ankle surgery rn.

im gonna try to not harp on the original pesterquest as a project/talk about my percieved issues with it. from what I understand about the work environment where it was developed, it was hell -- poor communication, tiny budgets, little overall direction. plus every artist/writer involved was likely busy with other things at the same time (for example finishing the development of Hiveswap Act 2). they had so much going against them, and... it sorts shows in the final work, which isn't their fault. the original PQ team was passionate and cared and like. the absolutely last thing i want to do is disrespect them.

(generally also stating for the record that calling the original PQ "trash" or "replaced" is like. not good vibes. please don't do this if you're trying to enjoy PQR -- the last thing the original postcanon team needs is more harassment.)

anyway.

pqr is fanfiction, fundamentally.

i started making pqr because in september i was sick with covid, i wanted to learn renpy, and i wanted to study homestuck more. i wanted to figure out what made PQ tick, literally, figuratively, all of the above.

plus i really wanted to write a different story arc for mspar.

i also really love the side characters in Homestuck, and wish they all got more time to shine. the pqr prologue including a set of Spades Slick sprites just for a brief encounter i think helps establish what i want to do with the like. raw potential of the premise of a Homestuck visual novel.

damara is the other big thing -- i've wanted to make a story with her in it work for ages. (if anyone remembers the old MEGIDO hades mod, that was my first big public attempt. she was gonna be the protagonist, breaking out of scratch's mansion. turns out coding in renpy is WAY easier LMAO)

like. the plan wasn't even initially to have the prologue be a full damara route? i just let the writing take me where it wanted to take me. it's been deeply fun and cathartic.

the prologue's "bad end" has some incredibly intimate themes of like. inevitability, and worrying you've let everyone you love down, and i showed it to a college friend who i hadn't spoken to for ages and she set a screenshot from it as her background.

like. to me. that's pqr. that's why i make it.

pqr is the laundry room ending of rose's route, a deeply personal look into my own fears and anxieties as an author reflected back through this girl's circumstances. pqr is also the retcon ending of rose's route, a wildly stupid and indulgent romp through my own past fanfiction for a silly gag that people seemed to really love.

pqr is about dave and myself looking for a place to stay simultaneously -- pqr is about jade leaving prospit, and how i was adding to that part of the game in real-time as i dropped out of college, changing both of our destinies to something unexpected but hopefully better, at the same time.

pqr is also a silly extended sleepover scene. it's just fun to see them interact.

pqr is an excuse to turn over corners of homestuck and see if we can't peek behind them. what was it like for roxy, to think she lost joey and then find rose's meteor barely a year later? of course she'd think it's impossible for her to succeed as a mother. pqr is about finding empathy for yourself for your own mistakes, reflected back at you through homestuck characters.

because really, isn't that what we're all here for?

pqr is me coming back to my last long-abandoned attempt at an act 5 rewrite. pqr is an excuse to watch my girlfriend grow in confidence and style as she makes all the endcards and incidental art (except for joey route pt 2, but THAT was an excuse to work with a NEW friend!!!!!!!)

pqr is a friendship simulator that i am winning by having an incredibly supportive and collaborative group of friends in the dev thread who are cheering me on with every segment of text i post, friends who will hop in vc to check out the newest segment. friends like @dare0451 who literally yesterday rendered out some new audio to upgrade the June route to be even more fucking amazing and terrifying than it already was, AND DARE HASN'T EVEN PLAYED IT????? IT'S LITERALLY JUST. IT'S FRIENDSHIP MAN. PQR IS FRIENDSHIP

what the hell was this question again.

oh right.

yeah it's been fun basically. that's why i do it lol

#pesterquest rewritten #pqr #homestuck #fansim #hom3stuck #asksbox

[darkdisrepair]

imogen temult: a retrospective

in honor of the new year, here's a meta about our favorite purple haired girl, by looking back at what's transpired in 2022 and what she has ahead of her in 2023:

topics:

imogen, liliana, and gelvaan | imodna trauma | fcg and therapy |

tw//suicidal ideation, trauma, death

imogen, liliana, and gelvaan

let's start with the most glaring recent plot point- and one of the most painful.

liliana working with otohan was something i had started to guess ever since we learned that she was alive.

did i want them to be gay for each other? i mean, yes.

but how devastating for imogen, to learn that the mother she has been looking for her whole life is working with the person responsible for so much of her trauma: otohan haunts her dreams, killed three of her friends, and- there are probably better words for it- but tortured imogen's powers out of her, essentially.

for someone who claims to have left her daughter to protect her- how is keeping her in the dark about otohan any better? how is any of this secrecy helping her more than just telling her what she's discovered?

and it's worse because imogen craves her mother's love. imogen craves to be loved, in general. she wants so desperately to have a parental figure- someone to relinquish responsibility, someone to cry to, someone to ask advice from- and the more i think about her backstory... she's not given much of it, is she?

shunned by her town, abandoned by her mother in childhood only to be abandoned, again, when she rejects imogen's attempts to meet up, estranged from her father...

all the mentor figures in her life- laudna, bertrand, and eshteross- have died. she has seen all of their bodies, she has seen their blood and for bertrand and eshteross- she has seen them walk into the storm.

i can't help but think: imogen loses, and loses, and loses. the world has taken so much from her and it's heartbreaking because people need things to cling on to.

the lord of the rings is a perfect example of this: tolkien made the shire so idyllic, so beautiful, because the hobbits needed something to fight for. something to come home to.

gelvaan might be beautiful but it is not her safe haven.

her ritual contribution proved that. "i don't know how much longer I would have lasted," imogen said, and that, too, is devastating.

the town drove her to at least contemplate suicide, and even in sleep, gelvaan is supposed to be comforting but heralds a storm.

not that places mean everything, in terms of what to fight for, but that would make it easier, wouldn't it? to have somewhere to come home to, at the end of it all, that isn't haunted by dreams of red storms and the memories of how painful life was, there?

imodna trauma

well speaking of how painful life was- laudna's death still haunts imogen (and laudna but that's a different discussion).

in some ways, their distance now reminds me of the rock "breakup" and yet, it's even sadder this time because they're not not talking because they're angry or betrayed- it's because they both are so insistent that the other be okay that they don't allow themselves the grace to admit that they themselves aren't.

imogen is trying so hard to return things back to normal. she doesn't want to talk about her powers, she doesn't want to talk about laudna dying, she doesn't want to think about it.

i think it's because she can't, because if she starts i don't know if she knows how to piece herself together.

i think imogen is afraid to confront the depth of her pain over laudna's death, in particular, because she's afraid of "breaking" again, like otohan broke her.

it's hard to explain: but laudna's death and otohan pushing imogen to a breaking point was more than just what it was. it also creates this extremely unhealthy relationship with dealing with emotions/having an emotional outlet.

because really the only time in canon that imogen has really, truly been able to break down is in times of immense trauma, and against her will- and that caused a dangerous release of power that (in imogen's mind) could very well have been the final blow in all of her friend's deaths.

so now, you have both the physical trauma of losing her friends to otohan, but also this mental block of "if i let myself feel, i will hurt the people i care about."

bell's hells and therapy

and the pain and the stress doesn't ever stop coming, for imogen, and though the group notices, i don't think they really understand her well enough yet to really see that otohan trauma (and imogen might not, either).

now, this is no hate on fcg- but he in particular seems to call out imogen's pain the most, while presenting very surface-level solutions.

"i'll create a safe space," they say, but then they allude to imogen crying a lot and being fragile and then don't actually?? listen??

i think fearne/ashley has done the best at starting difficult conversations with imogen, and has, more than anyone, pushed both imogen and laudna to having hard conversations in the past.

she tried to get imogen to talk about her new ruidius friend and she asks imogen if she thinks she intended the blast, and she really does seem to listen.

but fcg is prone to bringing things up and then using spells/conventional therapy techniques, or what they see as "what SHOULD be done when x boxes are met" without slowing down and really getting everything out of the therapy that is actually important.

(this is no hate to sam i think fcg's perspective is FASCINATING i just don't think it's right for imogen)

#imogen temult meta #imogen temult #imodna #imogen x laudna #laudna x imogen #laudna #critical role #critical role meta #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #campaign 3 #campaign 3 spoilers #bell's hells

[puelluna]

“Alright, everyone, I know today is an exciting day, but please, be calm,” Arya smiled as the other gods filtered in, watching them take their places around the table that had been prepared for them all. She’d decided to call the other gods to attend this meeting by simply stating its purpose, a set of words that the others had been waiting years to hear:

“It’s time to go home.”

That had gotten her siblings moving. Some of them out of curiosity, others out of a genuine desire to return to Yrdea. Whenever Arya spoke of “home,” that was where she had so often meant. The world upon which the gods had been born.

It did not surprise Arya that, when she saw her siblings join her at the 14th Parlor, they all seemed to be wearing festive attire.

As they all trickled in and settled down, Arya’s eyes drifted over each of them, a sense of warm pride filling her. They had all become creators of their own worlds, with children and people to call their own. They had all come so far.

And it was time to finish this.

“Well,” she breathes, “It appears everyone is here…so, we can begin.” She leaned over a lectern before the others, hands guided to the sides; she was nervous about this. How could she not be? Even if it had been a long while coming. Especially if it had been a long while coming.

“Welcome, everyone. As you all well know by now, the threat of the Abyss is now gone, and what was left of the demonic threat has been dealt with; converted into protectors and guardians of the manaveins. Mother's plans have been fulfilled in their entirety, which alone has been cause for celebration. This has led to the question among some of us, however; namely, “when will we get to return to Yrdea?”

“Now, that started because, a long time ago, I promised you all that once the Abyss was dealt with, we would be able to do just that: return to Yrdea, and take up residence there, if we wish to." Her smile grew wide then, and she took a deep breath, before clearing her throat and saying,

"And I am deeply pleased to say that this is still my intention. Starting from this moment and going forwards, I am lifting our restriction on going home, and while you’re there, I will not impose restrictions on what you can or cannot do, with the obvious exception that, if you attempt to enslave mortals or return to the old ways, I will do what I must to put a stop to that. Do I make myself clear?”

Nyr was the first to speak up, raising a slow hand before talking,

“U-um…w-what if we don’t encourage them, but mortals attempt to worship us anyways? I-I am the goddess of oceans, after all…” nervous as ever, but Nyr had an unmistakable air of excitement to her today. Understandably so. Arya smiles in reply, before explaining,

“Those situations in which there is mortal worship involved will be discussed on a case-by-case basis. If it is chosen of the mortals’ own free wills, then I will not stop it from occurring, but if the situation becomes dangerous--if a bunch of mortals have gotten into a fight over which god is the best, if mortals wish to kill the god themself, or other such similar examples-- we will discuss removing the god or goddess involved for the safety of the mortals. The last thing we need is a bunch of zealous crusaders on our hands.”

That seemed to placate the others; Arya had ever been careful about how she handled these things, and it seemed that this would not be an exception.

Smiling, she then continued,

“Very well, if there are no more questions--then you all will be able to exit the bar onto our home island, and from there, you may go where you wish, and proceed as you wish. I expect to meet many of you out there, just please, do try and recall that they’ve been without us for a very long time, and so they may not accept you as divine, which, honestly, might be for the best. And…” she breathed, “...Welcome home.”

...

Arya stood, silent as everyone prepared to leave, carefully watching them go one after the other. Until, at last, it was just her and the girls, Elation and Grace, who in this moment, gathered close to her.

"My lady?" Grace spoke in that soft, motherly tone of hers, "Are you…ready to depart, yourself?"

It was the question Arya had been asking herself basically on-repeat ever since she had finished off the Abyss. Was she ready to return?

One of Elation’s hands came to rest on Arya’s arm, and Arya smiled, placing a hand gently upon her fox-eared retainer’s. Slowly, she nodded to Grace, and the Twins’ Reach began to shift. The transforming substance was at her whim with a simple telepathic command, and the normal, regal black dress she wore melted into a simple, black leather outfit, with a black cloak coming to rest atop the outfit so Arya’s body couldn’t really be seen. Arya extended a hand out, and from her fingertips, the black metallic substance formed a walking stick as well.

“...I’m ready,” she breathes, smiling at them both softly, “I trust you both will be able to handle the bar while I’m gone?”

That had been their agreement; that when Arya left for Yrdea, Grace and Elation would watch the bar, and keep the 14th Parlor in her stead. They didn’t mind, of course--it was hardly the first time they had done this. But it did mean Arya would be going home alone for the first time in ages. Not even with intent or purpose, just…to wander.

Both Elation and Grace nodded, and bowed to her. Which meant it was time to go.

Slowly, hesitantly, Arya stepped towards the door of the 14th Parlor, and turned the doorknob, stepping out and letting the door close behind her.

...

She emerged into a world at sunset.

Golden grass beneath her feet blew in the evening sunlight, and the sounds of gentle waves could be heard in an even rhythm that Arya knew as though it were engraved in her mind. Her hand around the walking staff shook, and as Arya glanced up at the mountain atop the island, tears began to stream down her face.

She sank to her knees, and began to do something between a sob and a laugh. She could feel, deep below the ground, the manaveins shifting and shivering at her presence, as it had likely done with the other gods’ arrivals, too. Arya let out a shaky sigh, and closed her eyes, looking upwards. The manaveins had likely nurtured mortals, as had been Arya’s hope, but she knew that this world had been made for them. The shivering, that was the manaveins calling out to her, saying “welcome home.”

With a wide smile across her face, Arya stood up and began to walk towards the shoreline. She knew this home, and knew it well, but it was time to see what mortals had come up with in her absence…

#saved #welcome home Arya #its been too long

[writerfae]

Hi! I hope you don't mind that I'm sending another ask before you could answer the last one, but I think you'll really like this one (I hope).

So I just read your last Heads up seven up, and:

Okay, okay! Let me give you a small book report, because this is so cool!

When i write one of my favorite parts is connecting things with small but important details. It's like creating a chain. And i see this part as something very simular.

“Maybe it is the curse of our family,” she mused, “that in our attempt to escape our own misery, we cast misery upon those we care about.”

Henry did this.

There's also a detail I won't spoil for others but that also connects here. (If you know you know)

(Full transparency, I don't know that much about the Alder king yet because Henry and Aiden have my heart and time, but if i were to guess that will also connect here)

BUT!

“Maybe”, Nyx continued. “if we would just work together instead of trying to solve all our problems alone, we could finally put an end to all that misery.”

Aiden stayed with Milan for years. Aiden went to look for his brother. Aiden has been doing what Nyx is saying here his whole life and this connection is why he's a great protagonist.

Or this is my interpretation, anywaysXD But even if I'm completely wrong, these elements do parallel echother, which is objectively great!

Hi! I don’t ever mind getting an ask from you, quite contrary ^^

I also love leaving small hints in my writing and connecting details! It’s really fun! Sometimes I even leave little hints without even realizing it, cause I’m so much into this story xD

You connected the dots very well here! Henry did indeed just what Nyx said. So did you-know-who ;) And so did Nyx’s mother.

But it is also true that the Alderking did something quite similar. Cause in the very beginning, it all started with the wish to bring his family closer together again.

I’ve been drawing little parallels from Henry to the Alderking right from the start. Though wildly different characters with different motivations and stories, they do have stuff in common. And I’m not just meaning the fact that they almost look alike.

The thing about this story is that protagonists and antagonists are not as different as they seem.

(For example, if just one detail about Henry’s backstory would change, if he was raised by his father instead of his mother, he would be standing on the antagonist’s side instead.)

There’s a lot of motivations and wishes and pain that all these people have in common.

With what Nyx says in the excerpt, she does what we both like to do: she draws a parallel. Between her family and Aiden’s. Between their individual misery.

And she is calling out Aiden, too. And with him, herself. Because while what you said is right: Aiden did stay with his father and he did go to look for his brother, he still tried to do all of that alone.

Because that’s a thing in his family and it is one in that of Nyx, too. They each think that in order to solve their misery, they have to do something about it all alone.

The Alderking didn’t try to find a solution with his siblings, he found one for them instead, without even asking. Henry didn’t talk to Aiden about their situation, he took it in his own hands by leaving.

Morena didn’t ask her family what they really needed, she made an assumption and stuck to it. And Aiden didn’t ask for help when he needed it, he tried to handle everything alone and solve everyone’s problems because he couldn’t solve his own.

Nyx didn’t really ask for help either, she thought she alone could stop her mother. But at this point of the story, now that she saw all her mother did and now that she saved Aiden, she realized that she can’t do this all alone. Neither of them can.

So it’s not just a statement she makes when she says maybe if they work together they’ll make it right. It’s an offer. One to put differences aside and finally start working together.

Also, it’s her sympathizing not just with Aiden’s situation, but with that of Henry, too. It’s her encouragement for Aiden to forgive his brother. Just like she learned to forgive her sister.

#I’m sorry this got a bit too long but I got emotional in my headache-haze #Aiden is someone who wants to help everyone but doesn’t want help himself #in the beginning of the story whenever he gets help he’s refusing it at first #he only took the opportunity to go to faerie with Halea because he absolutely had no choice #but once he got into the faerie world he was about to wander off all alone if the three would’ve let him #writer speaks #writeblr #wip: the knights of the alder

[jordanianroyals]

12 September 2023: Queen Rania called for a new model of leadership that aims to cultivate common ground and inject humanity into decision-making, highlighting the need to come together on shared challenges, such as the migrant, refugee, and climate crises.

Speaking in London at the CogX Global Leadership Summit, she recalled the sinking of a crowded migrant boat in the Mediterranean Sea last June, leaving more than 600 people dead as they attempted to reach Europe.

She noted how each side of the migration debate saw the shipwreck as proof of their version of the truth, with some blaming Europe’s tough migration policies for the disaster, while others charged that Europe’s leniency had led the migrants to risk their lives in the first place.

“When we can’t tolerate ideas that challenge our own, we hold their proponents in contempt,” Her Majesty said. Rather than “retreating into bunkers of ‘us vs. them,’ she called for an openness to doubt, explaining that unchecked certainty can lead us to “fight each other instead of fighting our problems.”

“You may think certainty is a mark of moral integrity – but is it?” Queen Rania asked. “Certainty can lead to moral fracture – a code of ethics that registers a sinking ship first as evidence of being right, and only second as tragedy.” (Source: Petra)

Her Majesty also called for increased global support to refugee host nations such as Jordan, where one in eight people is a Syrian refugee. She also drew attention to the growing needs of African nations receiving refugees from Sudan, where more than 4 million people have been displaced since April.

“Getting things right means doing the right thing. And for that, we must think with our hearts,” she said, citing the example of His Majesty King Abdullah II, who, following the onset of the Syrian Civil War in 2011, made the decision to welcome hundreds of thousands of Syrian refugees to Jordan.

“His Majesty knew what mattered most. His heart led his actions. As he put it, ‘There is a hungry child and a desperate mother at our border. How could we not let them in?’” Queen Rania said.

Her Majesty commended the generosity of the people of Jordan, as well as that of host nations currently welcoming refugees fleeing violence in Sudan. However, she stressed that countries that are neighbors to conflict cannot shoulder the burden of refugee hosting alone.

“Since July, the World Food Program has been cutting support for Syrian refugees in Jordan—not because the need has passed, but because new emergencies are breaking out, while donor support has lagged,” she said, adding that 74 percent of the world’s displaced are hosted by low- and middle-income countries.

The Queen also highlighted the unequal global approach to refugee crises, stating that, four months into the war in Sudan, less than 30 percent of donor appeals had been met, while the Ukraine emergency appeal was 70 percent funded within its first month.

“I don’t think we need a supercomputer to explain such discrimination,” Her Majesty said.

“When we demonize people for seeking a better life for their families, we normalize their suffering. We normalize 11 children on average drowning each week in dangerous Mediterranean crossings,” she said. “We normalize people going hungry in a world of plenty—not because we cannot help them, but because we’ve chosen not to.”

During her speech, Queen Rania explained that, in an age where “where AI churns out content and code, and where we’re connected to everything, everywhere, all at once,” it is easy to be distracted and lose focus. However, she stressed that, “progress is not inevitable. It is not automatic. We are the ones who chart the course and hold the wheel.”

“What good is artificial intelligence if we cannot summon authentic empathy with it?” Queen Rania asked.

Drawing on her almost 25 years of experience as Queen of Jordan, Her Majesty shared that, after spending time with some of the world’s most influential leaders as well as some of its most vulnerable communities, her view of leadership has not just shifted, but inverted.

“In refugee camps from Jordan to Greece to Bangladesh, I’ve met people with nothing who still manage to share everything. People brutalized by a selfish world, who still put others’ lives before their own,” she said. “If the world’s most powerless can act with such strength, what does that say about the rest of us?”

Queen Rania also highlighted the role that “learning how to follow” plays in leadership and how it can fuel progress in areas such as climate change, which she described as “an existential challenge that demands a global movement.”

The CogX Global Leadership Summit launched in 2020 under the banner of the CogX Festival, and has since hosted over 3,500 expert speakers from business, government, academia, philanthropy, and other fields. Launched in 2014, the CogX Festival convenes global leaders, the tech industry, and the public for wide-ranging discussions on the implications of Artificial Intelligence and other emerging technologies.

#Queen Rania

[hobgoblinsandpeachfuzz]

2 or 4 for sula?

I'm gonna shake things up, make some interim codex entries for between Inquisition and Dreadwolf. Sometime during the comics and Absolution probably! :D

(Thank you for the ask! <3)

2. a letter written by your OC’s family member

A letter collected by Agents looking for more information on the Inquisitor’s weaknesses. For some reason, The Dread Wolf threw these out, and refused to engage with our tactics here. I’ve preserved what I could in case the Dread Wolf changes his mind.

My dear Kadan,

Your little one is smiling brightly these days. It pains me that you do not get to see these smiles. She does not walk yet, but she is attempting. Every day she grows stronger, and every day I can see that stubborn resolve your husband has given to her. She looks just like you did at that age, but I suspect much of her spirit is Rainier. That is what your Grandmother says too. You were gentle and sweet baby, my Ursula, always reaching for your family, wanting nothing but to be held and to hold back. Little Gwenyth is independent. Perhaps she has learned that from you as well, with how you have changed these years. 

I know your work is important. I know too that the Inquisition, though no longer, is not truly done. I simply wish that you could leave it to someone new. That you and your husband could return, stay with us in Kirkwall, or take Gwenyth back to your home, and rest. All I wish for you is rest, my Kadan. 

Your siblings have taken to protecting Kirkwall with all their heart. They follow in your footsteps. I know you always thought yourself a follower, but you have your father’s spirit. Just like your daughter does. With a smile, and warmth, you lead by example. I am proud, so proud. But it does make my heart ache. 

When you can. Come home. Grandmother is saying the old prayers for you every night. Aunt Kassaranda joins. I think I will too.

Be safe, Kadan. 

Your mother

4. a letter from your OC to their love interest

A letter collected by Agents looking for more information on the Inquisitor’s weaknesses. For some reason, The Dread Wolf threw these out, and refused to engage with our tactics here. I’ve preserved what I could in case the Dread Wolf changes his mind.

Thom,

You know I hate to send you away. You know I hate all of this. I want us to go home, back to the cottage, you, me, Jenny. But we can’t. And I know you know we can’t. I’m almost saying this more for me than you at this point. To remember–exactly what you said this morning when we said goodbye.

“For Jenny.”

I think you are worried about me. I know it’s foolish to say don’t. I worry about you too much to tell you to do any different. But I did lie this morning when we said goodbye. I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know how to say it. But you were right. The dreams are getting more frequent every day now. Whatever is coming, it’s close. We’re nearing the end of these long years of preparation, and I think the battle is on its way. That’s why I need you with the Wardens. That’s why I need to head to Tevinter. 

This section is crossed out violently. It continues afterwards in a more steady hand, though the page is stained with tears.

It hurt so much to send you away. I don’t know why, but this one feels… Like it may be the last time.

I love you, Thom. I could be not be what I need to be without you. I could not do any of this alone. I am sorry to ask so much of you, but I will remember what you said and hold it close to my heart. Please know I would fly to you if I could.

For Jenny. We’re doing all this for Jenny.

Hopefully it will all be over soon.

Love,

Sula

#long post #my writing #answers #sula adaar #dragon age: inquisition #dragon age: dreadwolf #sula x thom #webefire #thank you again! <3

[fragile-in-pink]

ROMANIA FROM MALMÖ TO MALMÖ. DRACULA'S COUNTRY DISASTER AT EUROVISION

A Polish Eurovision journalist Klaudia Tobiasz got apparently inspired by this article about the history of Romania's participation in the Eurovision Song Contest and wrote her own version but in Polish. It's not a direct translation, just her own take on the issue. Although, reading it is a bit like reading your copied assignment which your friend promised to change a tad here nad there...

A lot of reading, make yourself a cup of tea and let us jump straight to the paragraph about Theodor's participation.

2023 - Romania's ultimate downfall at Eurovision and the big scandal after the contest

We end our Romanian journey with the year 2023, which we can definitely call the worst year (next to 2016) for Romanians in the contest. After the success in Turin, the hopes were high in the country that the bad streak was gone and things would only get better from now on. Once again, the [national] selections were organised, much reduced compared to previous year, as the semi-finals were abandoned and only the final with 12 artists was organised. The very unexpected winner was the young singer Theodor Andrei with his song 'D.G.T (Off and On)'. He won the televoting and thus became Romania's next representative at Eurovision. Theodor was criticised from the beginning - his song was simply weak and the performance itself overly boudoir. Romania was given almost no chance of making it through to the grand final, and the only possible thing to do to salvage the situation was to not end up in last place in the semi-finals. Unfortunately, a sequence some strange decisions made by the Romanians followed, who decided that an altered version of the song would go to Liverpool - a sort of a revamp, which instead of improving the quality of the song, destroyed it even more. In the first part, Theodor simply plays the guitar and sings along, the backing track comes in later. This further diminished Romania's chances. The performance from the selection, however strange but at least dynamic was changed and completely stripped of that dynamic. In the semi-final, Theodor appeared in a pink outfit (totally unsuitable for him) and sang on stage alone. As expected, Romania did not advance to the final, but I don't think anyone thought they would end up with zero on their account, eventually finishing the competition in penultimate place (only San Marino was lower).

The real scandal, however, erupted after the competition, when, in his first interview after his return to the country, Theodor decided to present the scandalous backstory of his cooperation with TVR. This cooperation did not go well from the beginning. It started with a change in the concept of the show - Theodor knew it was needed, so he presented his ideas to broadcaster. He wanted to go on stage in a white coat with two dancers, who would later douse him in paint. TVR rejected this idea, explaining that it would damage the stage irreparably. Another idea of the young singer, for example, was to put up a giant heart, which was then to be destroyed. And this idea was not accepted by Romanian TV, they basically rejected every one of Theodor's ideas and at the same time was threathening (!) him, telling him not to say anything to anyone or complain about the concept imposed by TVR. Another reason for the quarrel was the choice of version of the song - Theodor wanted to perform 'D.G.T' in the original version, while TVR insisted on a new, revamped acoustic version. No one discussed this with the singer himself, but with his mother, as it was considered impossible to talk to Theodor because he was too stubborn. In the end, it was decided to mix the acoustic version with the original. In general, the young artist was not allowed to decide anything on his own and his concepts were imposed on him. Every attempt at rebellion by Theodor was countered with telling him to focus on singing and not coming up with his own ideas.

It had already gotten to the point of absurdity that TVR did not pay to produce a music video for the song because, according to the broadcaster, it contained such 'controversial' things as blood and chains. When Theodor did it himself, the TV channel threatened his mother with a lawsuit if he published the clip. Theodor himself did not know what to do at the first technical rehearsal, once again hearing that the concept was already set and no changes could be made at that point. After the performance, the singer sat in the Green Room totally resigned and sad. This is how television took away the artist's joy of participating at such a prestigious competition. After the contest, the hate and bullying was directed not at pathological television, but precisely at Theodore and his family. TVR reported that it had spent €400,000 on Eurovision, which the singer vehemently denies, because everything was done at the cheapest cost. The situation in 2023 is proof of the total collapse of Romanian television and Romania at Eurovision. Theodor Andrei as well as his relatives were treated in a reprehensible manner, for which he received no apology. Romanian fans stood behind him, demanding deep reforms in television and, above all, treating artists the way they deserve to be treated.

Romania is a perfect example of a country that used to do quite well in the contest, but unfortunately, due to the incomprehensible decisions of TVR, the lack of respect for the artists, the squandering of money for purposes other than Eurovision and, finally, a completely frivolous approach, the country has fallen to the very bottom of the 'Eurovision' universum. It has led to a situation where Romanian fans would rather not show up at the contest than be represented by such a broadcaster. What has happened inside TVR can safely be called pathological and should never have happened. At the time of writing this article, Romania is still out of Eurovision 2024, but TVR's negotiations with the EBU are still ongoing. However, I believe that if Romania is still to participate, the situation needs to change radically. Something completely new is needed - new people with influence to make decisions that are accurate. There definitely needs to be a change in attitude towards artists as well, because the kind of treatment experienced by Theodor Andrei is unacceptable. Without these changes, nothing good will come out of Romania's participation. Unfortunately, but at the moment in Romania (as in Poland) - it is hard to be a Eurovision fan.

Original article available here.

#theodorandrei #eurovision romania #esc 2023 #controversy #fvck tvr #love for theodor #esc romania #eurovision 2024 #dziennik-eurowizyjny

[calsgotdepression]

site unicode 2

When will this hurt go away? I keep on going to tomorrow, hoping, pleading, begging fucking anyone, anything at all, to ease some of this pain. When is it coming? Will I only find it in death? When will I be happy? Why was I born with thoughts if they only exist to hurt me? What can I even do? Is there anything to do? What can any of us do that feel like this? There’s no answers, there’s nothing. Life doesn’t need to have meaning, but we have ourselves and the things and people we care about to provide it, but we’re constantly with ourselves. How can I learn to love someone that hates me just as much as I hate him? I don’t hate him, and I don’t think he hates me. We’re both just tired and sad and lonely and hopeless. We’re staring at shards of mirrors as we starve to death in the middle of the ocean. What more is there to life? I’m not sure I’ll find it. If I already have, it’s within my cat. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in this world as much as her. When I lose her I know my heart will break in two. I’m not sure if I’ll live long after that. Maybe that’s why I’m trying to finish this book before then. Will anyone ever read this? Will I even post this? Tears fall down my face but does it even fucking matter? I’ll still go to work in the morning. My back will still hurt as it always does, my body will shake like it always does, my mind will suffocate itself forever until my breathing stops. How can I consider myself a good person when I crave such selfish things like attention? How can I even consider that I’m kind, when I think of bringing myself to the edge of death, just to get people to care? Is that what it will take? Will that make me feel alive? They say that those who attempt suicide by jumping off of places and survive regret it on the way down. Will I feel the same if I do it? I hate pain, but it’s always with me. What is paralyzation when considering the alternative? Why do I think it’d be better for me to cut off my legs to not look at them anymore? Would I still feel bad about my height, then? And why do I care so much? I wonder if there’s someone that looks at me without a feeling of ugliness. Even my friends must think I’m a washed up kid. I’m sure they look at me and see me as an ugly creature, someone they keep around just to talk about how much weight they’ve gained later on. Maybe I’m used as examples of how not to be by their mother’s. There is no winning at life, so why do I feel as though I have already failed? Last year, on my birthday, I was horribly sick. My grandmother was at home, in a coma, one that she’d never wake up from. I wanted waffles. How stupid and trivial, to cry about waffles? Maybe it wasn’t about them at all. I didn’t want anything for gifts. I didn’t even know what I wanted. The day I turned 19 I thought of killing myself. At least it would be easy to remember the anniversary. How awful of a thought is that. I turn 20 in a month. I don’t know if I’ll make it to 25. If I do, I know I’ll be feeling like this. I know it will never go away, just like nothing else will. I hope someone reads these words and doesn’t feel bad for me or think I’ve given up or I’m too pessimistic, but just understands. Even a little. I love everyone so much, but there is not enough room in this world for me. I hope I’ll wake up one day and not feel tired. I hope everyone else does, too. I hope we all have pleasant dreams that leave us waking up in the morning with a small smile lingering on our faces. I hope death truly is peaceful. I wish I could be different. I wish my brain wasn’t like this. I wish I could listen to my grandmother sing one last time, or my uncle laugh at an awful joke, or my aunt to just live and be happy? I love you. I love you.

#cw #vent #grief #depression #anxiety #dysphoria #dysmorphia #sui thoughts #sui ideation #ideation is a stupid word #i don't know sorry

[prnanxiety]

9/14/23

Ugh, what a day. Acute unit again. I wasn’t charge (for most of the shift), but I was still precepting a new nurse. She’s an excellent nurse, actually. Way more experienced than me, and thus perfectly understanding of the fact that I want her to show me she knows how to do things; Too many travel nurses come in claiming to be experienced and turn out to be bad. I’ve seen enough in my (comparatively) short time as a nurse to know that anyone who’s been a nurse longer than me knows I’m being responsible, and thus, that this will be a workplace that promotes that sort of thing. The poor lady doesn’t know how to use our software, and has been trying to get our HR department to give her the basic training module. I ended up spending time not only teaching her our workflow, but our software in general. Thank god she’s such a good nurse!

Anyways. The poor lady who was pooping in seclusion yesterday was my patient today, so I had to take care of her while precepting. Apparently she had an incidence of locked seclusion early in the morning, and came out a little while before my shift started. So I made it my goal: No locked seclusion. We’ll do it if we have to, but we’re going to fight it every step of the way. I had too many doubts in the back of my mind from watching the staff interact with her the day before. Too many times wondering “Was that too aggressive of an intervention? Did we make things worse just now? Would backing off have gotten us the results we wanted?” I want to trust my coworkers who have been doing this for decades, but I can never allow myself to forget there’s always a need to attempt to separate “experienced” from “jaded.”

Every fifteen minutes this lady starts asking/shouting about speaking to a doctor for discharge, and that’s not an exaggeration. She’s such a perfect example of the kind of patient for whom we’re never really going to be able to do anything for her beyond redirect her tangential thought process into a conversation about movie theaters. It was a constant fight of verbal redirection and distraction. That’s just about all we can do for patients as fixated as her.

It’s just tragic. Psych constitutes a spectrum of patients, for whom on the one end they all do just fine with a bit of talk therapy and maybe anxiolytics. This lady is on the other end. I have no realistic hope of any amount of medication giving her the ability to gain insight into her thought process and recognize her delusions enough for a discussion of what she thinks and why. The best I’m ever going to do is keep her calm and cooperative, which is impossible while she’s being held against her will and away from her crack pipe. Yet by noon I had only had to implement one single physical escort back to her room with an IM injection of two different drugs, and she only had, I think, one episode of stress incontinence. Believe me when I say that’s an achievement.

Anyways. I wasn't charge nurse for most of the shift, but the official charge nurse for the acute unit had to leave early, and assigned me the role there at that last hour and a half. She’d already made the evening assignment, and gave me management of one of the easiest patients on the unit. There wasn’t even anything scheduled for her, I’d just have to be aware that her mother was coming to visit around 1830.

But what happens? Her mother visits at that time, and ten minutes later she’s being escorted out by a tech while the patient, her daughter, throws something at her that hits the glass of the nurse’s station. I had to immediately tell her “Don’t throw things. Tell me what happened,” although I’m so tired that that’s probably a paraphrase.

This patient absolutely did not appreciate me saying that to her. Came right up to my face and I could see all the hurt in her eyes, all the conflict over whatever that interaction was. Flat out refused to talk to me; Instead she walked to the security guard and started to say, I Don’t know, something. The guard knows me and calmly told her the same thing; You need to speak to your nurse about that. She starts to walk away, and I tell her “Alright, you need to return to your room then.” She does a 180, walks right back up to me again, and says “that’s just where I was going.” And then she walks, notably with admirable restraint, back to her room, and slams the door.

We were immediately talking at the nurse’s station, because damn, I don’t know anything about this patient or what's going on, I just need to be technically responsible for her for the next twenty minutes until shift change! One of the nurses, a traveler who I’ve worked with a few times and have come to like, mentions she’s seen this patient and her mom visit a few times while on the unit. Sometimes it goes well, sometimes it doesn’t. Then the technician comes in and tells us what happened; “Patient just found out she’s homeless.”

So, it’s not too hard to understand why she didn’t want to talk to me in the moment. Just fresh off of hearing some of the worst news of her life, I told her what came off as “Don’t be angry about whatever just happened. Now I expect you to tell me, a complete stranger, exactly what horrible thing you’re going through, under the pretext that if you don’t comply you’re going to be punished for it.” What I do isn’t a punishment, but I understand why patients might think it is, especially if they’ve ever been to units where they do it like it's a punishment anyways. She has no idea who I am, after all.

On top of all this, I’ve got the lady in the back hall who’s starting to knock on the door to the nurse’s station, insisting it’s actually morning and that she needs to speak to the doctor about discharge. And then, before I knew she was there, the patient who just threw the milk carton was already speaking through one of the holes at the nurse’s station; again refusing to speak to me, but requesting “something to please just knock her out.”

This is one of those times I’m thankful I have a good rapport, not just with the patients but my fellow nurses; the traveler I was just speaking to told me “Look, I’ll take care of her. Go handle the lady on the other side.”

I was so worried my attention was going to end up divided between my only two patients who are on opposite sides of the unit, thank god that nurse volunteered. I went back to my patient, who had been my goal all shift to keep calm and out of lock seclusion. She was now knocking on the windows shouting “Nurse! Nurse! Where is the doctor? I need to get my things!” We’d spoken by now, that she was only allowed to be in the lounge if she was going to be calm and cooperative with the nursing staff, but redirection and bargaining only keeps someone like her calm and cooperative for so long.

I remember I was simultaneously proud and disappointed that, at the very minute of shift change, we had to do our second physical escort back to her room. Fortunately, I already had some of the injection supplies on me, so drawing up a syringe and administering it came a lot faster. I went into handoff simultaneously proud to tell them that i was able to keep her out of locked seclusion all day, and frustrated to tell them we still had to do two different escorts and injections.

The hurt young lady ended up getting some oral meds, very similar to the dose I’d just given intramuscularly. I didn’t stick around to see the difference between the two, but I’m going to guess it was profound. The young lady was, probably, put into a deep sleep by the medications we gave her. The older lady with the prior history of everything-abuse was always almost completely untouched. I don’t blame anyone for doing locked seclusion eventually, but I still think it's our duty to give it our all in keeping a patient from having to go in there. There’s always going to be a small worry in the back of my mind that a coworker is putting a patient in locked seclusion because they didn’t want to put up with someone.

#psychosis #psych #psychiatry #dear diary #diary entry #nursing #nurse

[mineofilms]

Ita dicit, sic dicit…

Sometime in late afternoon, early evening, Port Charlotte, Florida, Gulf Cove, New Year’s Eve, 2022… It is a time for Reflection… We are Reflecting… Another year completed… In a year with minimal ups and many downs I have written more than I have in any previous year. I have taken my writing to “a new level of confidence and power…” ~Pantera – I am proud of these creations. Not all were as coherent as I would like and with all the crazy ass things that happened in this country in the calendar year of 2022 I wrote more about politics and the philosophy of our American Culture than I care to admit to. At least two or three times I said this would be my last politically charged BLOG this/that.

This Isn’t A Bad Thing Though.

It inspired me to really organize my thoughts and different notes on a variety of subject matter. This also made me look at all these unfinished and/or unstarted fictional projects. I started writing in a more serious manner back in 2015 with the intention to use that as a springboard to write fiction. My health and mental health got in the way of that a lot and still does. I can totally go into detail, but I am not going to. I mean why? Some will see it as bitchin’ and complaining. Some will see it as a “Can’t Do” attitude. Some will say I am just making excuses. Any and all that criticize me will need to walk in my shoes for 72 hours or more and get back to me on that one. Then, perhaps, I may listen to what they attempt to project onto me.

Dealing with health and mental health troubles 24/7/365+1 and most nights isn’t something most know anything about. They really don’t. I set thought traps out there to see how people react to things. Granted there are plenty of people out there that do deal with these things, plenty. I am specifically talking about those that are doing well enough in life and feel projecting onto others what they believe is a path to success with the expectation that it will work because it worked for them. A, “one size, fits all,” approach.

With That Said…

I have become semi-cynical in/on the deeper meanings into things. I am both mindful to those deeper meanings and extremely dismissive of, at random times. It is like trying to visualize the fourth and fifth dimensions. A bigger thing, so big, we cannot even see its curve, which makes us think it is flat; the UNIVERSE... I have said this a lot this year in my BLOGs. It is all about perspective. It isn’t even about being right/wrong, literally and morally. One is never the master but always the learner. Try telling both sides of the political coin. Even knowing that, one still has to deal with the subconscious mind and if that mind is heavily damaged, it is going to take a concentrated effort to correct it. Now apply that logic to not even knowing one has/had a problem to begin with. It is not so weird to feel cynical in a world that doesn’t even wanna get up and put pants on anymore. Or only communicate with a potential significant other through text and direct messages. We live in a culture now where people wanna be General Secretary of the Communist Party of the American Union, but don’t want to do the dirty work, aka, the hard work to get there.

You bet your ass I have been more cynical in 2022. The difference here is I can tell you why. I can tell you what. I can point to examples. Our culture/civilization is an absurd distraction from the ultimate meaninglessness of existence. “Only an idiot could think there is a point to any of this.” ~Emil Cioran – 2022 was a real rough one. The pink elephant in the room would be Hurricane Ian. Whelp… Well over $100,000 in damages to the house/property. We have three buildings here. The main house, mother-in-law suite and the spare garage/home gym. All three roofs need to be replaced. The pool cage that connects the mother-in-law suite and the main house is totaled. It is almost 1,500 sq/ft and the whole thing needs to be replaced. Click on the link to see what I am talking about: https://www.instagram.com/p/CjEpJ28ggpi/

We had no power for nearly 12 days from the time of the storm and no LAN/INTERNET services for 15 days. During this time, when I wasn’t sitting in lines for resources, I really thought about what I was gonna do with all this stuff. I took vocal notes on my phone. Recorded all the stuff I remember from the intense dreams I had been having during this time. I have been writing now 8 years. I have yet to really complete anything of note. Once the power/INTERNET came back up I went to work immediately organizing all my resources. This is a much different approach to how I have been attacking my writings/ramblings. A lot of the material I wrote about this year came from half thought out ideas, opinions on my own perspective and feelings. I will still free BLOG, like I have been doing. I just will be concentrating more on fiction than political commentary. I mean, how many additions do I need to suffer through on those “Twitter Files?”

This year on my own self growth has been focused on the different levels of toxicity other people will project onto me. This has made me pull away from being social with people in the real world. I want to help, I want to be there for others in my circle that I show them acceptance, but I am very limited and even more limited with patience/faith in other people. They simply never do what they say they are gonna do and how they do it. Ever… I do not always talk about my process for how I come to these conclusions. I have worked very hard on myself to have more INTENTIONALITY in my life, (to be about, represent, stand for, or be directed towards some object or state of affairs). Just having the intention isn’t enough though. If one does nothing about it and that is where my crossed roads end.

If one seeks change and does nothing to make said change happen then nothing will happen and nothing will change. One should live as one were already dead, as only then can one truly appreciate life.

What is seen by me, what is shown to me; and what is projected onto me by others to entice me to believe, never is the same thing or even closely associated together. I am to trust others at their word, but the words are not followed up by the action they represent. You might as well just start printing money. That is what inflation is. Printing the paper money, (words). Not putting the gold into the Reserve, (Doing what was said to be done or true). Yet, that is what is expected of me. Take things at face value and have faith that everything will work out. Since faith is not part of my decision making process and if trust is broken it is nearly impossible for me to overlook that moving forward.  Like I said, “a concentrated effort.” You gotta make the thing real…

For me simply believing in something and having faith in something makes it work by default is not part of my decision making process. I do not deal in imagination/fantasy as reality. You want something real, make it FK’n real then. If you cannot show me the “real potential” in a thing is real potential, and not some “manifested pseudopotential.” One or many will not be able to convince me of it, even if they make good points and could be correct on their assessment of that. I just do not have it in me to take those leaps in faith in order to affect my decision making process if faith is the only and/or main attribute to make a decision.

Potential is: 1) Latent qualities or abilities that may be developed and lead to future success or usefulness. 2) The quantity determining the energy of mass in a gravitational field or of charge in an electric field. These are good definitions, but they are both based on hypothetical thinking. I really do not get along well with the “manifest your future” people. Stop talking about it or projecting it onto other people because you want it to be real so bad but lack any of the actual attributes to make it real and tangible yourself. They need others to believe to make it real because the thing isn’t real to begin with. Your process may not work, shit, probably wouldn’t/won’t work for other people. So just stop that already. The question of your existence isn't solely about what you are, how much money you have. It is about who you are. It was relevant in the late 90s as much as it is now. "You're not your FK’n khakis." ~Tyler Durden, ‘FIGHT CLUB’

Who are you? Who, who, who, who? Who are you? Who, who, who, who? Who are you? Who, who, who, who? Who are you? Who, who, who, who? “Who Are You” – THE WHO

I Have Always Been A Noncomformist.

The last half of 2022 has been me forwarding off other peoples' projections of how I should be, what I should do, and how I am supposed to feel about all that in relation to how I spend my time, the remainder of that time, the remainder of my health, the remainder of my mental health and what I want for myself, by which, by all accounts is mine and no one else's. So he says, so he says...

No one else’s not even God's, so he says...

Yet, I am the one that must suffer. Not the people who are projecting to me onto me, but me, so he says.

No... I am the one dealing with stuff. Not you and not them, not anyone. 

So he says...

No one was invited to deal with me.

So he says the nonconformist. So he says

It has been said too many times now. So he says... Here here... So he says... It has been weighed, it has been measured, and they have been found wanting. 

So he says, so he says…

Come back and try again if anyone believes they are worthy. So he said, the nonconformist…

~David-Angelo Mineo (12/21/2022)

“You’re only proud of your creation’s success because you want to be creative; but creation doesn't happen through gimmicks, technology and distribution. It doesn't even happen through work. Creativity is frankly adjacent to mental illness, and overlaps with it substantially. A lot of talented people kill themselves; and all of them are miserable. The real gift is to be ungifted. That's the gift you were given…” Ghost of Joseph Campbell; speaking through Morty, from ‘Rick & Morty.’

Probably the most cynical thing I saw portrayed in entertainment in 2022. However, not all is bad. Not all is lost. Quite the contrary… I have my writing organized in a more workflow style. I will be much more proactive in how I attack these subjects. As far as my health goes. I am stable, but I am still in a yellow state with my blood sugars. If I was still drinking I’d be right where I was in June of 2020. I am not that much better, so he says, lol…

Dear READERS,

We are gathered here today to remember and celebrate the year 2022, who hasn’t left us far too soon. My God it hasn’t… 2022 was a kindless, compassionateless, and unloving year that destroyed the lives of many in South West Florida.

2022 had us all terrified for our lives and always took the time to enjoy the simple pleasures of tormenting us each day. 2022 had, at times, a sense of humor and could always make us cry, then laugh at ourselves for crying, even in the hours of the early morning. 2022 was also deeply engaging in gas lighting and virtue signaling which was always there for those “recreational outrage junkies.”

2022 was a devoted parent to the Woke and 2022 will be deeply missed by all who experienced it. 2022’s absence leaves a decline in Woke Culture, thank the Norse Gods, that should never be filled again. 2022 will always be remembered for the gas lighting, virtue signaling, lies, Kevin’s and Karen’s brought into the world.

Let us take a moment to piss and shit, cough, “pay” “tribute” to 2022 and the wonderful year it was. May that ass-clown rest in peace and may the loathing, PTSD and depression continue to bring discomfort to all of us.

Thank you…

Ita dicit, sic dicit… (Latin for: So he says, so he says…) By David-Angelo Mineo 12/31/2022 2,157 Words

[sarahandsashainparis]

Day 4 - last day in Paris

Sarah

In my ongoing attempt to rehabilitate my reputation as a drill sergeant, I was happy to allow Sasha to lay in bed this morning while Desmond and I went to the Centre Pompidou. Apparently, the last time we were in Paris, he wasn't able to go in, and that was somehow my fault and yet another example of me being overly controlling over schedules. So, this was the make-up visit. But I then ruined it all by not realizing that it didn't open until 11, giving us only a short time to walk around before having to leave for our lunch reservation.

Sasha

I was very grateful that my mom allowed me to stay back while they went to the Pompidou. I had a lot of early mornings, and I believe that you should be able to sleep in on vacation, but I understand that my mom doesn't feel that way, especially since she wakes up at insane hours just for fun. Before they leave, Desmond tells me to lock one of the two doors (already behind a locked gate and another code-locked door), but just as I've figured out how to lock the door, he asks me to unlock it for some reason that I can't remember, but this door is impossible, so it took me way too long, and I think Desmond may have contemplated climbing in through the window. After this fiasco, I decide to lock the second door since it's easier, and they leave. Just as I was getting comfortable having the apartment to myself, Desmond told me he was on his way back, so I needed to unlock the door. Oy. Apparently, the museum wasn't open yet, and no one thought to check before they left, so my mom went and got us some pastries and coffee, thank you!

Sarah

Lunch was delicious. Le Comptoir de La Gastronomie, a recommendation from a friend. Truly one of the best meals in a long time, and definitely the best in Paris. Sasha's verdict on her ravioli stuffed with foie gras in a cream and truffle sauce, "one of the best things I've ever put in my mouth." And yes, she had escargot again.

Sasha

I've been very conflicted on this trip when it comes to foie gras because it tastes delicious, but it's so inhumane. I had to put my morals aside for this meal, and I'm so glad I did because it really was the best thing I have ever eaten (yes, I know I'm awful). After too much food and just enough wine, we made our way to the Musee D'Orsay in an attempt to walk off some calories.

Sarah

We finished off the day with a visit to the Musee D'Orsay. The french metro workers are on strike today, so there was even more walking everywhere than usual. But given the huge, rich food we ate, that wasn't a terrible thing. When Anya and Sasha were little, and we used to travel as a family, we'd get these great books at the various European museums that we'd visit. They had treasure hunts and games like that to keep children interested in whichever museum it was. Sasha remembered the one from the D'Orsay and even remembered some of the art pieces in the book. I'm sad to say goodbye to Paris, but honestly, I'm not sure I can eat another thing, so it may be time to go. Au revoir Paris.

Sasha

Our first stop in the museum was the bathroom because when traveling with my mother, of course it was. I've never been much of an art person, but I absolutely loved this museum, and I loved finding the pieces of art that I remember from books my parents got me and Anya when we were younger. I got to see two different self-portraits by Van Gogh and my favorite (which I didn't remember was my favorite until today), Blue Dancers by Edgar Degas. I got some nice postcards, and Desmond bought me a puzzle as a Christmas present from my mom (she was not aware that she was getting me this gift). We made the long trek back to the apartment, where the trip basically ended. Overall, it's been the best trip of my life that I can remember, and that's not just because my mom paid for everything. I tried new food and loved everything I ate. I saw some amazing art and views and walked more steps than I have in a while. Of course, I owe this entire trip to my mom, who, despite my complaining, did an amazing job planning. Paris did not disappoint, and I'll be back soon!

[likimard]

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[shacchou]

I want the K.

6: Gentle peck

     Despite how reserved he was about anything that pertained to his private life, his position as not only the CEO but also the most recognizable face of what was by now the leading tech company in Japan, made him a tremendously popular figure— thus a constant subject of interest to the press. He was used to having an array of sensationalist stories being made about him, and to having his face and name plastered on every tabloid out there. When these fabrications about him were not injurious enough to merit legal consequences, he would simply ignore them, because it wasn’t as if he cared about what others thought of him, so long as it didn’t prove detrimental to Kaiba Corporation. The latter was yet another thing  ( one of the first ones, in fact )  he had learned that came as a result of his position. Oftentimes, his company’s performance was directly tied to the events of his personal life  ( the immediate plunge in Kaiba Corporation’s stock price after his first defeat against Yugi being the perfect example ). 

     It was this connection that had him here today; had them here. Of course Kisara had to be present, as this matter was relevant to her, as well. Meetings with their respective PR and legal teams had taken place far too often, as of late; their frequency having increased exponentially after the news of the pregnancy disseminated online. Admittedly, having his life scrutinized by his subordinates was hardly a gratifying experience, though he wasn’t foolish as to ignore the fact that sometimes, their expertise was needed.

     “ My mentioning this isn’t an attempt at pressing the matter, but since we are aware that this is something both of you have already considered, I believe this is the proper time to discuss marriage. Possibly even set a date. ”

     The words of his Chief Legal Officer immediately demanded his attention, blue gaze lifting towards the man who sat on the nearest chair of the conference room. While doing so, he also noticed from the corner of his eye how Kisara paused her every action, perhaps also having not expected that. Indeed, marriage was something they had both already discussed, so at least the subject itself wasn’t new to them. But given how convoluted everything had been ( mostly due to that period of time during which he had distanced himself from her after struggling to come to terms with their situation ), they hadn’t truly had any time to so much as plan anything related to that, or even mention it again, for that matter.

     “ Allow me to explain. The social stigma associated with nonmarital childbearing is undeniable. Despite recent legal changes having been made to protect children born out of wedlock, ours isn’t a society that readily accepts this. It is only a matter of time before the press and the public start speculating. And I am afraid that when this happens, Kisara-sama will be the one to endure the worst part of it, as the mother is often the one who gets subjected to public judgement. That isn’t to say that spreading the news of a marriage, even strategically, will result in an absence of rumors. The media isn’t anything if not insistent. It is possible that they will question if this marriage is happening only out of obligation. Even so, I believe statements of this nature will be easier to refute, given that they would be constructed upon a false premise, and are therefore defamatory. ” A pause, that had the man leaning forward, his hands intertwining upon the table. “ Either way, the choice is not for us to make. I am only listing the possible scenarios. But we do encourage you to inform us of your decision as soon as possible, Kaiba-sama and Kisara-sama, so we can prepare in advance. ”

     For a moment thereafter, silence befell the room. The last words had been followed by various nods of acceptance from the rest of their teams; a clear sign that this was something that had been previously and carefully discussed between them, before being broached to him and Kisara. 

     Seto moved then against his seat, his back pressing against the dark leather as his arms crossed over his chest.  

     ❛  So regardless of the step we choose to take next, the likelihood of seeing some absurd fabrications from the press still remains. Is that it ?  ❜  Not that he was taken aback by this, though he was rightfully annoyed by the possibility. But it was only expected. He knew there was no way the press would leave either he or Kisara alone, especially now. This, of course, included the media’s tendency to fabricating the most ridiculous of stories. 

     “ I’m afraid that is exactly the case. We will, of course, work tirelessly to extinguish unfounded rumors and legally proceed against any attempt of defamation. But as the recent events have proved, even though we have the cooperation of the biggest social media platforms, our reach only goes so far. It only takes a second for someone to take a screenshot, or save a photo to their phone or computer and after that, our control over it is, to say the least, extremely precarious. ” It was the head of Kisara’s PR team who spoke then. “ But I must say I agree with Ichikawa-san. From the public relations standpoint, handling both of your images would be much easier if we were to release the news of a marriage. It opens the door to other sorts of gossip, yes, but also to several ways of quieting it down and likely extinguishing it, that we would otherwise not have. ”

     And so, a few minutes later and moments after the meeting had been brought to an end, only Kisara remained in the room with him, still at her seat to his right. 

     He was the first to interrupt the almost uncomfortable stillness that had befallen their surroundings, arms moving towards her until his hands found hers, holding them silently. Truth be told, having to discuss this subject with their subordinates as if it were yet another business arrangement was irritating, but he was reasonable enough to understand that not only were they merely doing their job, but that they were right. A media storm was already lurking at their front door, and Kisara was bound to take the worst part of it. Now that the news of the pregnancy had spread, it was only a matter of time before everyone’s attention centered around their marital status— or lack thereof. An unmarried woman bearing a child was close to social taboo in this country. That exact fact had been one of the reasons why it had been him who first brought up the possibility of them marrying. Only one of the reasons though, because contrary to what some may think, it wasn’t the only one. Anyone who knew him well would know that Kaiba Seto would never do something if he didn’t truly want to. He had no intention of leaving her nor their child. He wanted to remain in both their lives. And though their relationship was virtually still in its infancy, he simply could not even imagine a life with anyone that was not her.

     His hands held Kisara’s a bit tighter, intertwining his fingers with hers. He then leaned in to give her a gentle peck on her lips, pulling back seconds later to gaze at her. 

     ❛  What I said to you hasn’t changed. I intend to move forward with this.  ❜  The words left his lips swiftly. Indeed, his decision had not changed since that day when he first spoke of marriage. Despite the rather turbulent events that had taken place during the first months of Kisara’s pregnancy, nothing had changed. It could even be said that this solidified his decision.  ❛  If you still want to marry me, that is.  ❜

     // @aoiinome​

#aoiinome #long post #one day i'll write a short reply #not today though :) #❛ ♔// q; [ 読み込み中 ] #❛ ♔// ic; [ 社長 ]

[awesomerextyphoon]

The Fairest One - Part 1

Summary: So your stepmother killed your father, forced you to be a servant, and hired mercenaries to kill you and your best friends. Maybe it’ll work out for the best.

Pairing: Black Female Snow White!Reader, OFC, OFC, OFC x (Steve, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Thor, Pietro, Peter, Loki, and Joaquin Torres)

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Word Count: 3K

Overall Warnings: a lot of Smut, Oral (f & m), Attempted Murder, Mild Depictions of Violence, Mentions of Child Abuse, Free Use Kink, Polyamory, Electric and Magical Stimulation, Light Angst, Light Bondage, Breeding Kink

A/N: This started as a fun idea from the Smut Hub Discord Server. This might be the sluttiest fic I’ve written to date. Dividers are by the amazing @firefly-graphics and was beta’d by @mrs-mischief-209​. 

Series Masterlist 

Main Masterlist

“Ow!! Fucking branch!” Estrella stormed as she picked herself off the forest floor.

“We tried to warn you, Ella,” Kusuma sighed noting Estrella failing to notice the branch for the third time now.

“It’s not my fault! My skirt is too long!”

“Then ditch the skirt! You’ve got pants!” Darinka reasoned as you helped Estrella off the floor.

“So how long are we goin’ keep running?” Estrella wondered.

“Until we’re sure Rumlow’s not on our ass,” you replied while checking for any indication that Rumlow and his men have followed you.

You couldn’t blame your friends for their weariness. You’ve been on the run for two days now. And despite the sinking weight of guilt in your belly, you knew this wasn’t your fault.

It was your stepmother’s.

 It started two years after your mother died. Your father, the king, was worried that you didn’t have a maternal figure in your life (didn’t consider your friends’ mothers who treated you like one of their own), and that the kingdom needed a new alliance so he married the beautiful princess of Xarida, Konjit.

Konjit was indeed incredibly beautiful. Most of the court (especially the men) were enamored with her. She was kind to everyone she met and she showered you with love and attention.

All seemed well until one day, Baron Gwerder commented on how beautiful you were becoming...just like your mother.

Konjit squeezed your shoulder as she froze on the spot and her eyes darkened. It was the last day she was kind to you.

At first, you thought nothing of it. You just spent more time with your friends and their families.

She and your father were fighting and it was getting more and more public. The relationship between her and your father wasn’t that great, to begin with; it was a marriage of convenience though it never got that bad.

Your father seemed to relent and withdraw as your stepmother took a man named Alexander Pierce as a lover.

She became colder to you and your friends; sometimes slapping you in private saying you would never be good enough to be her daughter.

Pierce, her lover, started looking younger, more handsome while your father became aged and haggard in appearance. Everyone in court started talking of it, not caring if either you or your friends could hear.

Once your father coughed up blood during a council meeting, it was only a matter of time before he would die. You begged him not to leave you, but fate seemed especially cruel.

Your stepmother didn’t even have the decency to wait until the weekend to start fucking Pierce out in the open.

She wasted no time in removing your friends’ families from the board in terms of power and to make an example out of them.

You still remember the bodies and your friends’ screams. You still have nightmares about them.

Konjit immediately sent you and your friends to the servants’ quarters to ‘be of better use to the kingdom’.

That’s how things stayed for the next nine years and you tried to make the best of it.

  “I can’t believe she tried to pull this stunt! There’s no way the public will take this lying down.” Darinka raged as she jumped over a fallen log.

“Then let us hope the rebels catch wind of it,” Kusuma encouraged noting the crowd commotion earlier.

While your stepmother had near-total control of the aristocracy, expanded the kingdom into an empire, and became rich beyond belief, she never had complete control of the public.

Especially when her reign was met with resistance.

It began with a few farmers' revolts near the edge of the empire and the Standek Republic. They grew in strength and numbers led by a group that goes by The Avengers.

It got to the point that she couldn’t just neglect you behind the castle walls. She actually had to prove that you were alive. So, she decided to throw a parade for your 24th birthday in an attempt to show the public that she really cared.

Really, bitch?! Too little, too late.

The four of you gave each other a look after she brought you to the throne room for her ‘fantastic news’. She even hired ‘bodyguards’ to make sure nothing horrible befalls you.

The leader introduced himself as Brock Rumlow. Yes, you remembered that name. They’ve been causing trouble for the female servants. Kusuma fought not to gag when some of the ‘bodyguards’ made cat caller ‘clicks’ at you.

That night, you and your friends hatched a plan of escape. You knew she was planning to have you killed during your ‘parade’, so you planned to lose them in the Reinstech Forest.

You asked Kusuma, Estrella, and Darinka if they really wanted to do this. They looked at each other, nodded, and affirmed that you’re their friend and they can’t leave you. Also, your stepmother would probably have them killed once you escaped.

You hated to admit it, but they were right.

The parade started as planned. You and your friends were fitted in dazzling dresses while the public cheered at finally seeing their princess again.

You gave Estrella the signal as soon as Reinstech Forest came into view. Somehow the crowd got restless and a fight broke out. Estrella used that instant to fire the smoke bombs, Kusuma and Darinka casted the nets and bolo restraints on your guards while you destroyed Rumlow’s tracker and sprinted into the forest along with your friends.

  After three days of trekking, you stopped to catch your breath and did a supply check. Your group had enough food and water for five more days.

It took a few more hours before you reached a clearing. The bright light gave way to a large compound with five buildings, the residence dwelling being the largest.

Estrella knocked on the front door of the residence and it just opened.

“Anyone home?” Darinka wondered as the four of you made your way into the foyer.

The residence was...something.

The foyer was enormous but filthy; it looked like someone was at least ashamed of its state and tried to clean it. The kitchen was an absolute nightmare with the sight of mold in a few places.

Luckily, there were no rodents. To your knowledge.

The living rooms were in total disarray, the bedrooms were at best in a state of controlled chaos. None of you wanted to think about the bathrooms.

“Criminy! This place is a nightmare!” Estrella cringed.

“Was this place abandoned?” Darinka asked noting the cobwebs.

“No. None of the chairs or beds are covered in dust. Judging by the food, the inhabitants should be back soon.” You observed.

“Okay, if we’re going to convince the inhabitants of this place to let us stay, we need to clean up the place,” Kusuma reasoned, “Here’s the plan…”

You and Darinka tackled the foyer, dusting, and window washing while Kusuma and Estrella cleaned and polished the living rooms. All four of you decided to take on the kitchen together.

You needed a small support group for the bathrooms.

Fortunately, they had a vast assortment of ingredients to cook a feast. Hopefully, they won’t throw them out.

You found a sparse yet spacious room with a large bed to sleep in. All of you took turns guarding the door, but you soon fell asleep.

  “Man, today was a pain!” Pietro complained as the team made their way back to the hideout.

They were wiped from taking out several of the Empress’s squads. They’ve been making excellent headway since Thor and Loki have been able to join. Also, not having the Maximoff twins as enemies was a nice bonus.

Sam got a tip from an anonymous source inside the capital that the princess would finally be seen outside the palace. It was reported that the empress was forced to prove that she hasn’t been killed. Some organizers planned on striking during the parade as a show of force against the empress.

They had planned to kidnap the princess and have her serve as a figurehead for The Resistance. Peter, Joaquin, and Pietro went to secure her Highness, but it didn’t go as planned.

First, the strike happened earlier than scheduled due to one of the younger strikers, a kid named Bradley, landing a blow to one of the nobles supportive of the Empress’s regime. Second, the strike turned into an all-out brawl. Then one of the young women in the procession activated several smoke bombs and all of the women fled the scene.

Damn it all to Hel!

They had the consolation of obliterating five of the Empress’s brigades though it was a drop in the bucket of her full force. The princess is the key to turning the tides.

Good thing no one was injured beyond a few scrapes.

“I hear the shower calling my name!” Joaquin beamed.

“Agreed. While today’s battle was exhilarating, we’re still not any closer to defeating her.” Thor noted.

“Well, we would’ve gotten some information out of that last captain if Barnes didn’t shoot him.” Loki groused.

“Lay off, Emo Mage! He was going to attack Tony, Steve, and Sam with a hell-fire blast. What exactly were you gonna do?” Peter countered.

“Why you impudent little-!”

“Enough Loki! Barnes, thank you for the save. Your skills are invaluable as always.” Steve maintained.

“Aww look! The little soldier needs to be reassured once again.” Loki mocked while Tony groaned.

“Can it Reindeer Games!”

“Will you cease with that name, Stark!”

“Ugh, here we go again-” Pietro started.

“The base feels different!” Peter interjected causing everyone to stop dead in their tracks.

“The fu-”

“Language, Cap.”

“Well Emo Mage, Shell Head, y’all have something to say?” Bucky questioned with a smirk.

“Nope.”

“My wards only go after those who would wish to harm us.” Loki scoffed.

“The kid’s senses haven’t failed us this far.” Sam pointed out.

“Let’s be careful.” Steve cautioned.

“Alright! Move aside!” Thor bellowed as he opened the door, Mjolnir in hand.

“Better not be like last time, Loki. Otherwise, you’ll owe Barton another 40.” Bucky warned while trying not to laugh.

“Quiet Frost Slayer before I…” Loki sibilated before gazing upon the once slovenly foyer.

“Holy shi-”

“Not now, Spiderling.” Thor admonished, “Something’s not right.”

“I know. That’s why I said so in the first place.”

“Parker, now is not the time to-” Steve started gazing around the foyer. It had never been cleaner even after his attempts to clean it. He could actually see his reflection looking up at him.

“What are those mouthwatering smells?” Thor praised as the other members practically drooled at the beautiful symphony of aromas coming from the dining room wave after wave.

The men nearly sprinted to the dining room to find a marvelous feast of Thick Beef Stew, Honey Tenderized Boeuf Bourguignon, 6 types of pasta, Creamy Mash Potatoes with Red Wine Mushroom Sauce, 2 Beef Wellingtons, 3 types of Quiches, Crispy Honey Orange Salmon, Chicken au Champagne, Tomato Basil and Mushroom Risottos, Cheddar Broccoli Soup, Honey Garlic Shrimp Skillet, and a whole host of other items.

“We can’t just eat this! It could be poisoned.” Steve chided much to the chagrin of everyone else.

“Really, Stevie?”

“This is the best food we’ve seen in ages!”

“Look, we have to find who made the food.” Steve reasoned.

“Well, judging by the food magic, they’re still nearby.” Loki surmised.

“Good. We’ll need to search the compound. Thor, Tony, Bucky, Pietro, and Peter: check the surrounding area. The rest of us will search the compound’s interior.”

“Fine!”

  The group was about to give up after about an hour of searching and coming up empty when Joaquin shouted, “Hey guys, over here!”

“What is it?”

“Are they hot?” Pietro inquired to the slight disappointment of the group.

“What?”

“Really, Speedfeet?” Tony deadpanned.

“Stark-”

“Pipe down! They’ll hear us.”

“Okay, Torres. Who’s the ‘they’”? Sam asked while peering through the spare room’s door.

“You’ll never guess. Come and see.” Joaquin whispered as he open the door and revealed...four of the most beautiful women they’ve ever seen. All of whom looked familiar.

“Well, what d’ya know,” Tony smirked.

“Seriously?” Loki groaned pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How in the-?” Sam started

“Okay, okay. Let’s get out of here first and then we talk about what to do with them.” Steve suggested.

“So, what do we do now?” Joaquin queried.

“I don’t like this. It could be a trap.” Pietro grumbled remembering Wanda’s best friend, Radoslava.

“That may be. I wouldn’t put it past the Usurper.” Thor mused.

“Let’s let them sleep. When they wake, we can interrogate them.” Steve put forward.

“Hey, Loki, could you use calming and truth spells during the questioning?” Sam asked.

“’ Tis a small matter.” Loki waved dismissing the matter as an infinitesimal task

“Um, so now that we have a plan for the women, what do we do about the food?” Peter wondered as everyone’s stomach started growling with a vengeance.

“Well,” Steve gulped,” since neither Loki nor Tony sensed anything amiss with the food. So maybe we can- Wait! Stop! You’ll wake them up!”

  Dinner was...entertaining.

“Guys stop fighting! There’s enough food for everyone!” Steve shouted while saving several plates.

“I would if Thor would stop hogging all the beef!”

“Then trade me some of the chicken and salmon, Samuel!”

“C’mon Tony! Put the armor away! You can shoot Bucky with a repulsor ray over a Dinner Roll!”

“Have some class, Cap! It’s a Buttery Honey Brioche Roll. Do you know how hard it is to make them this well?!”

“Peter! Get that quiche off the ceiling! You can’t eat them all!”

“You sure about that, Torres?”

“Pietro! Stop swiping the pasta!”

“I need carbs, Пиздец!”

“Ugh! Loki, could you help, please?!”

“Not a chance, soldier!”

“I should've asked for Strange to join instead,” Steve grumbled under his breath.

“What was that, mortal?”

“Nothing!”

“Fuck it. Give me a plate of that Braised Lamb and Mash Potatoes!” Steve barked giving up any notion of having an orderly meal.

The food was gobbled up in record time. Everyone hoped that the women weren’t spies for the empress. That was the best meal they’ve ever had!

  “Ugh. Where are we?” Kusuma yawned. She was always the first to wake up in the morning. Everything seemed to be in order until she noticed the door being open wider than last night.

“Girls, wake up!” She hissed while gently shaking them awake.

“Okay, okay, we’re awake!” Estrella lethargically groused, “So what happened last night?”

“I don’t know, but I sense other lifeforms, nine of them.” you fretted noting the lifeforms being dispersed throughout the compound.

“They didn’t do anything, but we can’t let our guard down,” Darinka warned while checking her clothes and surroundings.

“I wonder if they enjoyed our offering?”

“That’s your first priority?!”

“Don’t look at me like that, ‘Suma! I put a lot of effort into that meal!”

“Well, we won’t know unless we leave this room. Let’s head out.” You suggested as you and your friends got dressed and headed towards the foyer.

“Oh, Hello! Who’s the cutie?”

 You and your friends made your way to the foyer to see if any of the compound’s inhabitants were there when Estrella spotted someone in one of the living rooms.

The figure laying on the couch could best be described as boyishly handsome. He was tall (5’11½”/1.82m) with Slate Black hair, Scorched Brown eyes, Sahara Gravel skin with Pink Sand and Orange Maple undertones. His body was of a lean build with evidence of a few battle scars on his hands and forearms and he was dressed in a customized ranger’s outfit.

“Not again.” Kusuma sighed at Estrella’s antics not wanting a repeat of the driving intern incident.

“Um, hello there.” you waved as the man walked towards you.

“Good Morning!” the man welcomed in a surprisingly deep voice.

“Fuck, even his voice is sexy!” Estrella gushed under her breath.

“My name is Joaquin, Joaquin Torres.”

“Ooh! My name is Es-” Estrella tried introducing herself before Darinka cut her off with her hand.

“We are but humble travelers. On behalf of all of us, I apologize for the intrusion. We were exhausted from our journey. Please accept the food we made as a token of our appreciation.” You explained hoping Torres wouldn’t need any further explanation.

“Just so you know, the guys and I agree that dinner was the best meal we’ve ever had!” Joaquin complimented

“Well, that answers my question.”

“Fuck, she’s flustered now,” Kusuma swore while Darinka nodded in annoyance.

“Where did you say you were going again?”

“I’m sorry, Joaquin, but that’s our business.” You insisted.

“Fine, fine, fine. Well, at least let me get the rest of the guys here to thank you all before you leave.”

  “So we can either stay and see what the rest of the ‘guys’ are like, or we can make a run for it.” You offered to your friends.

“I have a few smoke bombs left and I brought a taser!”

“Damn it, Darinka!”

“You’re just mad because you didn’t think to do the same, Kusuma!”

“I say we stay and hear them out. They didn’t do anything to us in our sleep.” Estrella pointed out.

“That may be true, Estrella. But we don’t know if they’ll just turn us into the empress.” Kusuma countered.

“I doubt that, Kusuma. If that’s true, then why didn’t they do it while we were sleeping? They had all night.” you reasoned.

“But maybe they want to make sure you’re the-”

A sharp cough shattered Kusuma’s train of thought and caused the four of you to turn around.

“Shit!” Darinka blurted.

Standing before you were the famed leaders of the Resistance, The Avengers. The Captain, The Knight, The Spiderling, The Thunder, The Trickster, The Silver Speedster, The Peregrin, The Angel, and The Winter Soldier.

There were others, but they seem to not be here.

“Hel...Hello.” Kusuma faltered. It was all she could muster in the face of the sheer magnitude of their situation.

“Good morning, ladies.” Steve, the Captain, greeted, ”I see you’ve made yourself at home, princess.” your eyes widened in shock, “We need to talk.”

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