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canmom · 2 years ago

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Animation Night 127: Project Itoh

Hi friends!

It’s Thursday - my last Thursday in America for the foreseeable future, in fact. On Monday I’ll be making a bizarre journey back to the UK via the ‘extremely direct’ route of Norway and Latvia, because it turns out that’s the cheapest way to get across the Atlantic. So that’s gonna be quite an adventure. I’m going to write some kind of post about things I’ve seen in America but probably when I get back for the sake of enjoying what time I’ve got left here...

Anyway, on to movies!

Tonight we’re going to be checking out a curious little sort-of trilogy of movies by different studies and directors from 2015, celebrating the works of the short-lived but influential science fiction author Satoshi Itō, aka Project Itoh.

Here’s a picture of Itoh hanging out with his close friend Hideo Kojima at a book launch (via Metal Gear Trivia)

So who’s this Project Itoh guy? Born 1974 in Tokyo, there’s not a lot of biographical details about Itō’s early life, save that he went to Musashino Art University and worked as a web designer until the publication of his first novel, Genocidal Organ, in 2007.

What we do know is that he loved Metal Gear. Like, a lot. Itō got into Kojima’s games from the very start, and indeed most information about his life comes from Kojima’s account, alongside the blog where he published Snatcher and Metal Gear fanfic. The pair met at the 1998 Tokyo Game Show, at which Kojima was immediately struck by Itō’s devotion to his works, describing Itō as the one person who truly understand what he was writing about - an experience which ‘saved’ Kojima.

The two became close friends - and three years later, when Itō went into hospital with cancer in 2001, Kojima rushed to his bedside, and while there, showed him the first footage of MGS2: Sons of Liberty. Itō responded by promising he would not die until Kojima finished MGS2.

The experience of being hospitalised seems to have been very formative for Itō’s worldview. Youtuber The Canipa Project translates a blog post in which Itō talks about the experience of having his body sustained by scientific means only recently invented, making him a cyborg.

This time, Itō was able to keep his promise; when MGS2 came out, Itō wrote extensive analysis and exegesis of the game’s philosophical themes, getting a lot of attention within the fandom.

As the 2000s went on, it seems he judged it time to spread his wings and try releasing his own original stories under the pen name Project Itoh. The first, Genocidal Organ, was adapted from a fanfic he wrote about Snatcher into an original story. He submitted it to a novel writing competition in 2006, and while it didn’t win, he found a publisher in 2007; the novel became a hit, and so impressed Kojima that he asked Itō to take on the daunting task of writing a novelisation of Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots.

Itō apparently succeeded handily at the novelisation, and off these two successes, seemed set for a great writing career. His next novel, Harmony, dropped in 2008, dives straight into the themes of medical control; a dystopia in a post-nuclear war world where humans in the aftermath managed to cure cancer and most other diseases, only to institute a program of social control in an attempt to complete their utopia by eliminating mental illness as well. A story that’s clearly cutting pretty close to the bone from Itoh’s own experiences, since he was spending the 2000s dealing with recurrent cancer that took him back to hospital over and over.

And, indeed, the inevitable came in 2009, at which point Itō had just begun on his third novel Empire of Corpses. His cancer returned in force and he returned to hospital; once again Kojima went to his bedside and broke NDA to tell Itoh in detail about his next game, Metal Gear Solid: Peace Walker - that’s the odd PSP one featuring the Sandinistas. And once again, Itoh promised to live until Kojima finished the game, and write the novelisation of MGS3 and Peace Walker. But this time, it was a promise he could not keep; Itoh died at the age of 34.

In the wake of his death, a devastated Kojima dedicated Peace Walker to him (and later revealed he had planned to name as a successor following MGS5), and his friend Toe Enjoe took on the task of finishing Empire of Corpses. Once again, I’ll turn to Canipa Effect’s translation of some of the words Itō wrote three months before his death:

Humans dwell in others as a story. People can continue to live within someone else as a narrative. Then, by being part of the variety of spoken words, they become part of the fiction that can shape humanity.

(Words that resonate too strongly with the death of my friend Fall earlier this year.)

So far, a tragic story - but in some sense one with a slightly hopeful touch, in that rather than dying of cancer in 2001, Itō was able to enjoy eight more years of life and write several novels. But what has it got to do with animation?

Enter Noitamina (the word animation backwards), the late-night anime programming block run at the time by Koji Yamamoto as a means to get experimental, creative animation - such as Masaaki Yuasa’s adaptation of The Tatami Galaxy or Kenji Nakemura’s BakeNeko and Mononoke - out to a wider audience. Yamamoto departed the block in 2015, but in its heyday it was home to a number of radically creative works; you can read more about it over here on sakugablog in a recent post on the context behind The Tatami Galaxy.

So, in 2015, Noitamina announced it would fund three movie-length adaptations of Itoh’s three novels, each by a different studio and director. For all three movies, the character designer would be illustrator redjuice of the ‘band’ Supercell, a somewhat odd musical project consisting of just one musician and ten illustrators and designers who produce materials around the music.

Genocidal Organ would go to the hands of Shūkō Murase, at Studio Manglobe, a unique studio renowned for original works like Shinichirō Watanabe’s Samurai Champloo, Ergo Proxy, and Michiko & Hatchin (the latter of which I covered back on Animation Night 36). Murase seems like a natural choice for a highly philosophical cyberpunk story, given Ergo Proxy... but a spanner was thrown in the works when Manglobe went bankrupt; Genocidal Organ would eventually be saved by the resurrected Manglobe in the form of Geno Studio, but for this reason, it missed the planned simultaneous release of the three movies.

The story concerns a world in which a series of social breakdowns and genocides take place in a short period of time, all seemingly associated with an American named John Paul - who, when tracked down, claims to have discovered a ‘genocidal organ’ which can be activated to incite humans to acts of genocide. Without giving away too many spoilers, it’s basically about the current American-dominated geopolitical order.

On the animation side, the stars of the show would be Bahi JD, the Austrian from the earliest wave of sakuga fandom who became one of the first international ‘webgen’ animators to find a career in Japan... and Shūkō Murase himself, who animated several cuts as well as directing the film. As such, even a quick look at sakugabooru shows a lot of subtle, well-observed movement; I’m looking forward to seeing it fit together.

Harmony - the post-cancer dystopian one - went to Michael Arias at studio 4°C, of Tekkonkinkreet fame (see Animation Night 52 for Tekkonkinkreet, and Animation Night 74 for a more detailed history of 4°C), alongside veteran animator and director Takashi Nakamura who you may remember from the Chicken Man and Red Neck sequence of Robot Carnival. It comes at a point where 4°C had found a lot of comfort with their use of CG, two years before Mutafukaz (Animation Night 105), and even if the incredible background artists of Tekkonkinkreet may not be on this one, I imagine it will look pretty lavish as 4C stuff always does.

Then comes The Empire of Corpses. This one goes to Wit Studio (Animation Night 101), directed by Ryōtarō Makihara - also no stranger to scifi, with his main previous work being Hal, the story about a robot designed to play the role of a deceased partner. Unlike Itō’s other works, which are near-future science fiction, this one is more of a steampunk piece, taking place in an alternate 19th century in which mass produced Frankenstein’s monsters have become the industrial base of society; its characters bounce around the globe unearthing a conspiracy. It sounds kind of wild, honestly, with not just Frankenstein and Babbage but even frigging Sherlock Homes running around; Japanese spins on British characters like this are always kind of fascinating. (Also... there is some tragic irony about a story revolving around reanimated corpses being completed by Itō’s friend after his death.)

So, that’s the plan for tonight: we’re going to be watching all three Project Itoh movies, in the order that Itoh wrote them! I think there’s gonna be some great stuff in here, and I hope I’ve given you reasons to be excited too~

so, if you’d like to check these out, please make your way down to twitch.tv/canmom - we’ll be starting the program in about 20-30 minutes once people are in there!

#animation night #project itoh #genocidal organ #empire of corpses #harmony 2015

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feanorianethicsdepartment · 3 years ago

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Alright, I read your recent post and need to know - what is your interpretation of Maglor’s relationship with the twins?

askjdhslkjag my biggest self-inflicted problem in this fandom is that my take on maglor, elrond, and elros' relationship is so intensely detailed and specific i am forever tormented by none of the fic i read ever quite getting it right (from my perspective; i’ve read plenty of fic that presents a good interpretation on their own terms, it’s just never mine.) it’s simultaneously way darker than the fluffy kidnap dads stuff and nowhere near as black-and-white awful as the anti-fëanorian crowd likes to paint it, it’s messy and complicated and surrounded by darkness, and yet there’s also a sincere connection within it which mostly serves to make all those complications worse. angry teenage elrond is angry for a great many reasons, and the circumstances around him being raised by kinslayers account for at least half of them. there’s lots of complexity here, and i don’t see it in fic nearly as often as i’d like

(warning: the post... feathers? i already have an internet friend called faeiri this could be awkward - anyway, the post she’s talking about includes the line ‘everyone is wrong about kidnap dads except me.’ this post follows on from that in being as much a commentary about why various popular interpretations of both how the kidnapdoption went and the way people subsequently characterise the twins just don’t work for me as it is a setting out of my own ideas. i’m not really interested in getting into discourse here, i’m just trying to get my thoughts down. i’ve read fic with these interpretations before that i’ve liked, even, don’t take this as a Condemnation, aight? also this turned out long as hell, so i’m putting it under a cut)

i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads

which isn’t to say i don’t read them! sometimes all i want is something sweet, for these kids to get to be happy for once. it’s not like i think their time with the fëanorians was completely devoid of laughter

it’s just. the pet names, the special days out, the home-cooked meals, it can get so treacly it stops feeling like the characters they are in the situation they’re in and turns into Generic Found Family #272

it soaks out all the complexity - which is the thing i am here for - and acts like oh, these kids were never in any danger, they were perfectly happy being abducted by the people who murdered everyone they knew, there’s nothing possibly questionable about this relationship at all

and... yeah. that’s not the characters i know. that’s not the context i know they belong to

i just can’t forget the circumstances that led them to meet

rivers of blood, the air filled with screams, a town ablaze, a woman choosing to die. every interaction the three of them have is going to proceed from that nightmare

(sidenote: i tend to hold it was maglor that raised the twins, with maedhros looming ominously in the background not really getting involved. it’s mostly personal preference, i’ve been in and out of the fandom since before this kidnap dads thing blew up and when i joined that was a perfectly standard reading)

(also the cave thing was a dumb idea, old man, if only because it implies beleriand had streams safe enough for children to play in at that point. the way it separates the twins from the third kinslaying is also something i don’t particularly vibe with)

probably my least favourite angle i’ve seen on the situation (edged out only by ‘maglor was actively abusive towards the twins’ which no no no no no no no no NO) is the idea that maglor (and/or maedhros, append as necessary) took the twins specifically to raise them

like, i get where it’s coming from, but it makes maglor come off as really creepy

(i have read fics where it is indeed played off as really creepy, but that’s not a maglor i have any interest in reading about)

(’mags 100% bad’ is just as facile a take to me as ‘mags 100% good’)

even if you’re saying maglor took them in because they had no one left to take care of them - i highly doubt they were the only children the fëanorians orphaned at sirion. idk, it always makes maglor seem much less sympathetic than i think it’s meant to

i prefer to think of it as more... organic? something that evolved, not something that was preordained. them growing closer gradually, the twins finding an adult who might maybe be on their side, maglor becoming invested in them almost by accident

and then the twins are so comfortable with the second scariest monster in amon ereb they frequently sass him off and maglor’s gotten so used to not hurting them he’s not even thinking about it any more. no one’s quite sure how it happened, but they’ve made a Connection

‘wait aren’t they a murderous warlord of questionable mental stability and a pair of terrified small children who’ve lost everyone they ever knew? isn’t that kinda fucked up?’ yup! that’s the point! complexity!

another idea i don’t like is the idea that maglor was an objectively better parent to the twins than eärendil or elwing

other people have talked about this already, i won’t rehash the whole thing. i will say that while i don’t think elwing was a perfect parent - someone so young, in such a horrible situation, i wouldn’t blame her for screwing up - i do think she (and eärendil) did the best by them they possibly could

this is one of the few things they have in common with maglor

something i come across now and again is the idea that sure, elwing and eärendil weren’t abusive or horrible or anything, but they were a couple of basically-teenagers with so many other responsibilities, there was only so much they could do. maglor, on the other hand, is an experienced adult who could take much better care of the twins

and...

first off, it’s not like mags doesn’t have a job. he’s a warlord, he has a fortress to help run, military shit to handle, lots of other stuff that needs to get done to stop everyone from starving or getting eaten by orcs. i feel like sirion had enough of a government there was plenty of opportunity for elwing to take days off and play with her kids, but in the fëanorian camp nobody really has the time to chase after a couple of toddlers, least of all one of the last points on the command network. they just don’t have the people any more

(seriously, the twins getting a formal education with tutors and classes and shit is a weirdly specific pet peeve of mine. this is a band of renegades, not a royal household; if there’s anyone left with those kinds of skills they almost certainly have more important things to do)

more than that, though - well, a quick glance through my late stage fëanorians tag should tell you a lot about what i think maglor’s mental state is like at this point. he is so accustomed to violence death means nothing to him, he’s lost most of his capacity for genuinely positive emotion to an endless century of defeat and despair, he hates everything in the universe, especially himself, he’s only able to keep functioning through a truly astounding amount of denial, and he covers it all up with a layer of snark and feigned apathy, which he defends aggressively because he’s subconsciously realised that if it breaks he’ll have absolutely nothing left

(maedhros, for the record, is... i’d say more stable, but at a lower point. maglor may interact with the world mostly through cold stares and mocking laughter, but at least his mind is firmly rooted in the present)

(on the other hand, at least maedhros lets himself be aware of what they are and where their road will lead)

which... this doesn’t mean maglor doesn’t try to be kind to the twins, or rein in his worst impulses around them

there’s just so little of him left but the weapon

he stalks through the halls like a portent of death and gets into hours-long screaming matches with maedhros and has definitely killed people in front of the twins

not even as, like, a deliberate attempt to scare them, but because when you solve most of your problems by stabbing them it’s pretty much a given that people who spend a lot of time around you are going to see you do it at least once

and sometimes, he curls up in an empty hallway, and weeps

... suffice it to say i don’t think elwing’s the more preoccupied, or the less mentally ill, parent here

just. in general, the fëanorians aren’t cackling boogeymen, but they’re not particularly nice either

no one has the energy left for that. not these isolated and weary soldiers at the end of a long losing war and the beginning of the end of the world. they don’t really bother to guard the kids against them escaping. where else are they going to go?

the sheer despair that must have been in the fëanorian camp after sirion, the knowledge that the cause cannot be fulfilled, that they are utterly forsaken, that they’re really just waiting to die -

it can’t have been a happy place to grow up in, under the shadow of loss and grief and deeds unrepentable, and the slow march of inevitable defeat

they would have had a better childhood if they stayed in sirion, raised by people who knew how to hope

but that isn’t the childhood they had. and despite everything i’ve said, i don’t think that childhood was an entirely awful one

yeah, see, this is where the other side of my self-inflicted fandom catch-22 comes in. just as much of the pro-kidnap dads stuff comes off as overly saccharine and simplified to me, i find much of the anti-kidnap dads stuff equally simplistic in the opposite direction

the idea that maglor and the fëanorians never meant anything to elros and elrond, that they had no effect on the people they became at all, that it was just a horrible thing that happened when they were children, easily thrown in the rear-view mirror...

that’s even more impossible to me than the idea that life with the fëanorians was 100% fluffy and nice

like, i’ve seen the take that elros and elrond hated the fëanorians from start to finish. they were perfect little sindarin princes, loyal to their people and the memory of doriath, spurning every scrap of kindness offered to them and knowing just what to say to twist the knife into the kinslayers’ wounds

... dude. they were six. hell, given their peredhelness, mentally they could easily have been younger

what six year old has a firm grasp of their ethnic identity? what six year old is fully aware of their place in history? what six year old would understand the politics that led to their situation?

don’t get me wrong, i can see hatred in there. but something else that doesn’t get acknowledged alongside it often enough is the fear

some of the stuff i’ve read feels like it gives the kids too much power in the situation. they’re perfectly happy to talk back to and belittle the people who burned down their hometown and killed everyone they ever knew, like miniature adults who don’t feel threatened at all

and, like, six. i can see them going for insults as a defensive measure, but it is defensive. it’s covering up fear, not coming from secure disdain

(and a lot of those insults sound, again, like things an adult who’s already familiar with the fëanorians would say, not a scared child who’s lost almost everything. why would a six year old raised by sindar and gondolindrim know what the noldolantë is, let alone what it means to maglor?)

(... i’m just ranting about this one fic that’s been ruffling my feathers for five years straight now, aren’t i)

i mean, i write elrond as the world’s angriest teenager, who snipes at maglor pretty much constantly, but the thing about angry teenage elrond is that he’s angry teenage elrond

he’s spent long enough with the fëanorians he has a pretty secure position within the camp, and he knows that maglor won’t hurt him from a decade and change of maglor not, in fact, hurting him

but as a small and terrified child abducted by the monsters his mother had nightmares about? he fluctuated wildly between ‘randomly guessing at things to say that wouldn’t get him killed’ ‘screaming at maglor to go away in words rarely more complicated than that’ 'desperately trying not to do or say anything in the hopes of not being noticed’ and ‘hiding’

(and i don’t think the twins were never in any danger from the fëanorians, either. quite besides the point that before they started orbiting maglor nobody was really sure what to do with them... well, they wouldn’t be the first children of thingol’s line the minions took revenge on)

(fortunately for them, maglor did, in fact, take them under his wing. by this point even their own followers are shit scared of the last two sons of fëanor, nobody’s going to mess with their stuff and risk getting mauled. tactically, it was a pretty good decision for a couple of toddlers)

more to the point, i feel like a child that young, in a situation that horrible, wouldn’t reject any kindness they were offered, any soothing touch in a universe of terror

in a world full of big scary monsters, the best way to survive is to get the biggest scariest monster possible to protect you. that’s how elros rationalises it when they’re, like, eight, mentally, but at the time they were just latching on to the only person around them who seemed to care about them

that’s how it started, on their end. two very young very scared children lost in a neverending nightmare clinging tightly to the lone outstretched pair of hands

as for maglor...

i’ve called mags evil before, but i see that as more of a... technical term? he is evil because he did the murder, he remains evil because he won’t stop doing the murder. hot take: murder bad

but that doesn’t make him, like, a moustache-twirling saturday morning cartoon villain. he is deeply unhappy with the position he’s in and the person he’s become, and he’s always trying not to take that final step over the edge

it’s not that i can’t see a maglor who is abusive or manipulative or who sees the twins more as objects than people. it’s just that that characterisation is one i am profoundly uninterested in. i do occasionally read fic with it, but it never enters my own headcanons

horrible people can do good things!! kinslayers can do good things!! the fallen are capable of humanity!! people can do both good and evil things at the same time, because people are complicated!! maglor is not psychologically incapable of actually taking pity on these kids!!!!

it’s... again, complexity. the fëanorians straddle the line between black and white, which is a lot less sharp in the legendarium than it’s sometimes characterised as. it’s what draws me to their characters so much, why i have so many stupid headcanons about them. pretending they fall firmly on either side of the line is my real fandom pet peeve

and, like, this moment? this sincere connection between a bloodstained warlord and two children who will grow up to be great and kind in equal measure? i may not entirely like the direction the fandom’s taken it recently, but that beat, that relationship, it still gets me

so no, i don’t think elrond and elros’ years with the fëanorians were an endless cavalcade of abuse and misery. i think there was love there, despite the darkness all around them

an old, tired monster, and the two tiny children it protects

maglor never hurts the twins, not ever, not once. his claws are sharp and his fangs are keen, if he so much as swatted them he’d rip them in half. instead he folds down the razor edges of his being, interacting with them ever so carefully. he has nightmares of suddenly tearing into their skin

seriously, the power differential between them is so great, maglor so much as raising his voice would break any trust they have in this horribly dangerous creature. fics where he does corporal punishment always get the side-eye from me

the mood of their relationship is... i find it hard to put into words. melancholy, maybe, like a sunny afternoon a few days before the end of the world. three people who’ve lost so much finding what respite they can in each other as the world slowly crumbles around them

there are times when it feels like the three of them exist in a world of their own, marked out by the edges of the firelight. maglor telling stories of the stars, elros giving relaxed irreverent commentary, elrond getting a few moments to just be, all their troubles kept at bay

they are the last two lights in a world sunk into darkness, the last two living beings he does not on some level hate. he will tear his own heart out before he sees them in pain

he teaches them to ride, he teaches them to read, he gives them everything he still has left. the twins should never have been in this situation, maglor probably isn’t entirely fit to take care of them, but it is what it is, and they take what love they can

(maglor depends on the twins emotionally a bit more than any adult should rely on any child. he’s still very much the caretaker in their relationship, but that relationship is the only one he has left that’s not stained by a century of rage and grief. he’s obsessed with them, maedhros tells him frequently. maglor’s standard response to this is to try to gouge maedhros’ eyes out)

(that particular darker side to their relationship, where maglor’s attachment to the twins turns into a desperate possessiveness - that’s not something i think i’ve ever seen in fic. which is a shame, it feels much closer to my own characterisation than the standard ways this relationship gets maleficised. darker, in a different way than usual. horribly compelling in its plausibility)

however you want to read it, i don’t think you can deny this is a relationship that defines elrond and elros’ childhood. they were raised in the woods by a pack of kinslayers, the text is quite clear on this

but i’ve seen a lot of talk about how elros and elrond are only sirion’s children. they are completely 100% sindarin, they love and forgive eärendil and elwing thoroughly and without question, they identify with doriath over - even gondolin, let alone tirion. the fëanorians - the people who raised them - had zero effect on the people they grew into and the selves they created

and that, more than anything else, i find utterly unbelievable

look, i get what this is a reaction to. a lot of the kidnap dads stuff paints the fëanorians as elrond and elros’ ‘real’ family, and i’ve already talked about what i think of the idea that maglor-and-possibly-also-maedhros were better parents than eärendil and elwing. i think it’s reductive and overly optimistic and just a little too neat

but to say instead that elrond and elros held no great love in their hearts for maglor, no lingering affinity with the fëanorians, no influence on their identity from the people they grew up around, none at all? that after it happened they just left it behind and resumed being the same people they were in sirion?

that strikes me as just as much an oversimplification. it sands down all the potential rough edges of their identity, all that inconvenient complexity that stops them from fitting into any well-defined box, and replaces it with a nice safe simple self-conception i find just as flat and boring as declaring them 100% fëanorian

we can quibble over who they call ‘father’ (i personally find that whole debate kinda petty) but denying that it was actually maglor who was the closest thing they knew to a parent for most of their childhoods, and that that would, in fact, affect the way they thought of themselves and their family, elides so many interesting possibilities out of existence

(i’m not even going to get into the most braindead take i have ever heard on the subject, namely that because their time with the fëanorians was such a small fraction of elrond’s total lifespan it was like being kidnapped for two weeks as a toddler and had no greater significance than that. do you not understand what childhood is????)

like, i tend to think of elrond as a child as being very loudly not-a-fëanorian. elros is more willing to go with the flow - hey, if the creepy kinslayer wants kids, elros is happy to play into that in order to not be murdered - but elrond is very firm that he’s not happy to be here and he doesn’t belong with them

(this is after they get over their initial terror, of course, when they’ve realised they won’t be fed to the orcs for the tiniest slight. even so, elrond only really gets shirty about it around people he’s comfortable with, whose reactions he can reasonably guess at. naturally, the first person he does it to is maglor)

elros calls maglor their father exactly once, when they’re... maybe early preteens? this is because elrond hears him do it and immediately loses his shit. they have a dad, elrond says, in tears, and a mum, and any day now their real parents are going to come to pick them up and take them home

... right?

it gets harder to believe as the years roll on, as their memories of sirion fade, as they find their own places within the host, as maglor watches over them as they grow. elrond still mentally sets himself apart from the fëanorians, but it’s more of an effort every year. life in the fëanorian camp is the only one he’s ever really known. he can barely remember his mother’s voice

then the war of wrath starts, and the fëanorian host drifts closer to the army of valinor, and the twins come into contact with non-fëanorians for the first time in forever, and it becomes clear just how obviously fëanorian elrond is. he always insisted he wasn’t like the kinslayers at all, but he dresses like them, talks like them, fights like them

the myth cycles the edain tell are almost completely unfamiliar to him, he barely remembers the shape of the songs of lost doriath. even these sarcastic commentary and subversive reinterpretations he made of maglor’s stories - those were still maglor’s stories! he’s been trying to guess at the person he was meant to be, but it’s growing nightmarishly blatant how little elrond ever knew about him

instead, the people he was born to are as alien to him as the orcs of morgoth. he is a fëanorian, through and through

... yeah, elrond (and/or elros) having an absolutely massive identity crisis upon being reintroduced to his quote-unquote ‘true kin’ is another angle i’d love to see in fic that i don’t think i’ve ever come across. all those potential grey areas around who they are and who they’re supposed to be sound utterly fascinating, and i think it’s the complexity i hate to see elided over the most

i really, really doubt they could effortlessly slot back into being eärendil and elwing’s children. not when they’ve been surrounded by, lived alongside, been raised by the people who were supposed to enemies for most of their lives

they just don’t fit into that box any more. they can’t

speaking of eärendil and elwing, while i do agree that they both (especially elwing) get a lot more flak than they deserve, i don’t agree that therefore elrond and elros were never the slightest bit mad at them and fully forgave them for everything with no reservations

because, well, they were left behind. elwing had no other choice, but they were still left behind; it led to the world being saved, but they were still left behind. all the best intentions in the universe don’t erase the weeks and months and years of waiting, of a hope that grew thinner and frailer until it finally quietly broke

that’s a real hurt, and a real grievance. even if the twins rationally understand that their parents were making the best out of their terrible situation, you can’t logic away emotions like that. it’s perfectly possible for them to know they have no reason to resent eärendil or elwing, and yet still harbour that bitterness and pain

(i did write a thing once where elrond loudly rejects eärendil as his father in favour of maglor, but something i didn’t add in that i probably should have is that elrond later regretted doing that)

(not like, several centuries later, when he’d grown old and wise. two hours later, when he’d calmed down. but he was still legitimately angry at eärendil, because the one thing angry teenage elrond was not lacking in was reasons to be mad at the adults around him, and before he could figure out if he had anything less furious to say the hosts of the valar left middle-earth behind)

(it’s another element to the tragedy of the whole thing. in that particular story, which is mostly aiming for maximum pain, the only thing elrond’s birth parents know about their son for thousands of years is that he hates them)

(and he doesn’t, not really. you can’t hate someone you’ve never known)

not that i think they couldn’t ever make up with their parents! fics where elrond and his birth parents work past all the things that lie between them and form a functional familial bond despite it all give me life. i just don’t like the idea that there’s nothing difficult for them to work past

i don’t like the idea that elrond and elros would naturally, effortlessly identify with the mother they last saw when they were six and the people they only vaguely remember. i can see them doing it as a political move, i can see them going for it as a deliberate personal choice, but i can’t seeing it being immediate and automatic and easy

no matter how great a pair of heroes eärendil and elwing are, that doesn’t change the fact that to elrond and elros, they’re at most a few scattered memories and a collection of far-off stories. and so long as the twins stay in middle-earth, they’re never going to draw any closer

compared to the dynamic, multifaceted, personal, and deep bonds they have with the fëanorians - who, and i know i keep saying this but i think it gets tossed aside way more casually than it should, are the people who actually raised them, their birth parents must feel like a distant idea

and that’s why i can never buy interpretations of elrond as 100% sindarin, a pure son of doriath, with no messy grey areas or awkward jagged edges to his identity. given everything we know about his life, it seems almost cartoonishly simplistic

honestly it seems like a narrative a bunch of old doriathrin nobles trying to manouevre elrond into being high king of the sindar or something would propagate. it's neat and nice and tidy, something that’d be much more convenient for everyone if elrond did feel that way

but i just don’t see how he can. this narrative is easy and simple in a way real people never are, it ignores all the forces pulling him apart. elrond being uncomplicatedly sindarin with the life he lives and the people he's close to - that doesn’t make any sense to me

which isn’t to say i think he’s 100% noldorin, from either a gondolindrim or a fëanorian perspective. (i find it a little more believable, given, again, who he grew up around and who he hangs out with, but it’s still a bit too reductive for my tastes.) it’s also not to say i couldn’t believe an elrond who made an active choice to emphasise his sindarin heritage

it’s not how i think of him, but it works. i don’t have a problem with other people interpreting the complexities of the twins’ identities differently

i just have a problem with people acting like it doesn’t exist

in general i think there’s a lot untapped potential that gets left behind when you declare the twins, separately or together, as All One Thing

they’re descended from half the noble houses of beleriand, and they have deep personal ties to most of the rest. they belong to all of the free peoples even the dwarves, somehow, probably and i feel like that was kind of the old man’s point? so many peoples meet in them, to say they wholly belong to any one species is probably an oversimplification

they sit at a crossroads of potential identities, and rather than narrowing down their worldviews to one single path, they take the hard road and choose all of them. that’s what you need to do, if you want to change the world

and, to bring this back to my ostensible topic, in my estimation at least this mélange of possible selves does include them as fëanorians! it’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly there, and the adults they grow into long after they’ve left the host still bear influence from their childhood

nothing super obvious, nothing that wouldn’t stand out if you didn’t know what to look for, but there’s something almost incandescent in how fiercely elros reaches out for his dreams

there’s something almost defiant in elrond’s drive to be as kind as summer

as for who they publically claim as their family... honestly, it depends. while it’s usually more tactically prudent for elros to connect himself to his various human ancestors, on occasion he does find a use for his free in with the elf mafia, and elrond, code switcher par excellence, is famously the son of whoever is most politically convenient at the moment, which is rarely, but not never, maglor

(in the privacy of their own minds, well, eärendil and elwing may have been the parents elros was supposed to have, but maglor was the parent he actually had, and elros doesn’t particularly care to mope over what might have been. elrond, for his part, figures that after all the shit maglor has put him through, the least that bastard owes him is a father)

but honestly? i think before any of their mountain of identities, before thinking of themselves as sindarin or gondolindel or hadorian or haladin or fëanorian or anything, elrond and elros identify as themselves

they are peredhil, they are númenóreans, they are whoever they make themselves to be. that’s how elrond finally resolved his identity, figured out who he was and found something past the pain and the rage

he wasn’t doriathrin, or gondolindrin, or falathrin, or fëanorian, or whatever else. he was elrond, no more and no less

and that person, elrond, could be whatever he chose to be

... elros came to a similar conclusion, with much less sturm und drang that he’s willing to admit. being able to go ‘hey, i can’t possibly be biased towards any one of your cultures, because i’m descended from all of you and i was raised by murderelves’ makes it a lot easier to unite people around your personal banner, turns out

the stories other people tried to force on them shattered into pieces, and the peredhel twins were free to shape themselves into anything they could dream of

and as the new world struggles alive, these lost children of an Age of death begin to bloom into their full glorious selves -

i just. i love the poetry of that. despite every single shadow that hangs over their past, despite all the clashing notes pulling them apart, they harmonise it all into a greater, kinder theme, determined to make their world a better place in whatever way they can

they fail, of course, but so do all things. the inevitable march of entropy doesn’t diminish the long millennia they (and their descendants) held onto the light

and their growing up in the fëanorian host definitely had a huge effect on the noble lords they became. you can see it in elros’ loud ambition to create a land of happiness and hope, elrond’s quiet resolve to heal all the hurts inflicted by this marred reality

it wasn’t a perfect time by any means, but neither was it a nightmare. it was what it was, a desperate existence at the edge of a knife where, nevertheless, they were loved

even after years upon decades upon centuries have passed, it’s hard for the wise king and the honourable sage to separate out and identify all the conflicting emotions swirling around their childhood. they never knew eärendil or elwing, true, but they also never really knew maglor

not as equals, not as adults, not as people who could truly understand him. he disappeared into the fog of history, leaving only childhood memories of razor-sharp, gentle hands

it’s messy and it’s complicated and getting any real closure would be like shoving their way through a thornbush with bare hands even if elrond could find the shithead, and yet at the core of it all, there is light. not the brightest of lights, maybe, but an enduring one

that contrast, above all, that note of warmth amidst the shadows, is what fascinates me so much about their relationship. three screwed up people in a screwed up world, finding a little peace with each other

and the fact that somehow, it does have a good ending - the children grow up magnificent and compassionate and just, they become exemplars of all their peoples, lodestars of the new world born out of the ashes of the old - that makes it seem to me like this relationship must have contained some fragment of happiness

but, fuck, all the darkness that surrounds that love, all the tangled-up emotions its existence necessitates, all the prefabricated self-identities it can never slot into - nothing about it is simple, nothing about it is easy, and i find that utterly enthralling. especially how, despite everything, that flickering light never goes out

well, i don’t think it does, anyway. my take on this relationship is both complicated enough no one else ever quite gets it right and well-defined enough every single ‘error’ in other people’s interpretations sticks out like a kinslayer in rivendell

it is an entirely self-inflicted problem, i will admit. other people are allowed to interpret those complexities differently from me, and it’s entirely my own fault i lack the :waves hands around nebulously: to write my own hypothetical fic on the subject at a pace faster than glacial

still, though. i do wish there was more fic out there that engaged with these complexities. a lot of the common fandom interpretations of this relationship just sweep it all away

#ask #my terrible headcanons #elros #elrond #maglor #elwing #earendil #feanorians #niphredilien #yellow feathered faerie #putting your old url in the tags for archival purposes #post nyanyannya askbox clearout #ironically it turned out almost as long as the songfic that clogged up my askbox in the first place #and it is DONE #fuck this took forever to write #stayed up late just to get it out the door so i don't have to think about it any more #this is a long ramble and i'm pretty sure the end is just me repeating myself ad nausem sorry #i'll admit to a certain pro-feanorian bias in my interpretation #but i also don't want elros and elrond to just. live in a neverending horrorshow for decades #the silm's cruel enough we don't need that #narratively i feel like elrond being All Of The Elves is a good mirror for elros being All Of The Humans #but it didn't really fit the angle i was going for #bleck #let's see how many followers i lose for this

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bisexual-yuri · 5 months ago

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“Get Polished” (69 God) You infer what others want to hear and burn down your bridges They ain’t your bitches, Brigid Your bridges are here and you fight with a spear Toni my friend is a lover so dear Where is my passport it’s lost so I fear Oh meer, mía molé soul Tío lost control of her bones, no tía Mama mía bicicleta It’s all saved in her meta account, her whole life story Yep, you betcha No shits, no quits stored Stones with spiritual cleansing Fuck up and do the mending when you’re bored Laundry on the bannister on Mercury day Living lover on backwards slay Helped you to manipulate, she admitted it She benefitted from it She always does, she knows how to fuck up your shit Chicago bitch Sugar mid, raise a virtue signal 12 ills, take pills, program five 5-9, Dolly and Tim Horton, lacking change all day ACA all day who are free for the marriage To the message of their God Helper of the tradition of five stars in my recovery And life stone all alone he needs some milk Cannabis lover for free, Bonesey Mushrooms in crop circle country, love me Too shoot no better version of Rico Swill of familial satire why wine Wild left it away fantasía tonight Katita, Sarita, Jonathan is crisis and sad Mexican Spanish, problem, you mad We gotta raise a battle, por Sapo güey Fumando Mota, okay Buying plane tickets and not gay College buds and en la cara, not gone alone and not wrong Mota on the field and you got songs Lemme got shit to raise Tell em to pray and know what to say Tell what God’s doing with you Right with you bitch and six inch Bittie dick rider violence Fine line with that East Coast Bitch 716 shit, NYC girlie pop sick NYC rhyme queen Ali, cheesy Fuck y’all too it’s something Sae don’t want to do Word Mother, did you drop the bomb on Ral? Does he want to RP, just a pal? Meet the Grahams and be responsible Deepen the family, gritty, nasty tell me your secrets, tell me to chill  Girl, you need to hear this, you need to lose the trill No frills Snap memories of getting beat up at Timmies Timmy from choir lives at Frizzie’s Blonde bitches, 1.0 and 2.0, Twisted teas Plant your money trees Vanilla cream baby, put it in your coffee  Switch and Mitch the girl, no ozempic Drugs and fights over diabetes said all wrong Sara, you can’t name drop people in your songs Ali can though, your GM is your BM baby daddy  Rico ain’t your love, she ain’t free  Bones aint for me Little cave and little screens, scream Kenny heard me say that Jostin loves him and went I aint gay That ain’t matter bitch, why would you pray like that? You carry yourself as king baby, they’re whole babies Other girls and ladies The man the myth the legend the nose job girl  The uneven nostril girls  Anna’s social work files, blow job bitches in the park honey That’s a low bar and a low ball Which one of my so-called bitches knows Ali is a good kid  Which tears love you and feel you in all the shame fry More papers and lightning strikes The nerve of you, he’s SICK Talk shit, Ali’s ripped, she’ll fuck you up  Gotta have a kid with her, look at those hips She’s got a big slip up under that skirt  Flip it up, tell her to work for it  That’s what they always say, girl it’s up to you to be alone So I left and went home and fucked off  Shit got a ring too this shit, she wears five of them Pentecost bitch, she’s the bones clocks for all of them She counts down to their murder on youtube live man West coast east coast livers, spleens and offal Organs and truffles and other things pigs eat  You ain’t that sweet baby  Die in the world for FBI, being a bitch, clown around  Real bitches challenge Leak video to know who you is Who is Ali, who is Sae Ra? Who is Sara? Keep that family away Why did you move to New York? Is it because you fled from the girls What happened to the friends you like?  What color is Ali, and why does it matter, she’s high as a kite Or is Ali a he? They’re confusing, a bird, it’s right Have marriages live and broke

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 years ago

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Dead, broke

Of all the moving, wrenching accounts of death during the pandemic, Molly McGhee’s “America’s Dead Souls,” for The Paris Review stands out: haunting, furious and sad, an rude awakening of the status quo that denies any possibility of inaction.

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2021/05/17/americas-dead-souls/

I’ve known McGhee a long time, since she worked on my book INFORMATION DOESN’T WANT TO BE FREE from McSweeneys, a professional association we renewed when she landed at Tor.

During the pandemic crisis, I’ve had two different connections to her: on the one hand, the consummate professionalism of her emails as we published my novel ATTACK SURFACE in the middle of the lockdown.

On the other hand, I knew her through her wrenching and deeply personal Twitter account of the personal tragedies she’s endured over the same period. Her Paris Review essay brings those tragedies into sharp focus and uses them to pin a huge and heretofore ill-defined feeling.

McGhee’s mother died during the crisis, but the death was the culmination of years of hardship: “[earning] less than $10,000 a year. Suffering from debilitating depression while caring for her aging parents…chronically unemployed, undermedicated, and overstressed.”

Her mother’s debts were on public display through searchable databases, and her life was haunted by both con artists and bill collectors who carpet-bombed her with calls, letters and emails.

She was too poor to fight back: her wages were garnished by the IRS “for back taxes calculated from a years-old misfiling they refused to correct.” McGhee sent her months of her salary, but it wasn’t enough.

She had no answer for her mother’s rhetorical questions, “Why are these people harassing me? What good does it do them?”

Because the answer is obvious and insufficient: “The people in power don’t care if we live or die, as long as they get paid.”

It only took two days after McGhee’s mother died for her creditors to begin harassing her for her mother’s debts. The state of Tennessee seized the house, but Wells Fargo expected her to make good on the mortgage.

The hospital where McGhee’s mother died wanted a quarter of a million dollars. McGhee, not even 26, was staring down the barrel of the weapon that had been trained on her mother, the inheritor of nothing but debt.

The debt-machine is efficient. Bill collectors found out about McGhee’s mother’s death before McGhee’s own family got word. And they’re remorseless, immune to McGhee’s “pleading, bargaining, reasoning, denying, uploading, scanning, begging, faxing, and crying.”

McGhee compares it to Gogol’s “Dead Souls,” a surreal tale of a grifter named Chichikov who buys dead serfs’ souls to sell for profit.

It’s only surreal if you’ve never been in the debt system’s crosshairs, “where one day of lost wages can compound into houselessness.”

We live in a system of winners and losers. The winners’ winnings come from debt, shielded from the system’s cruelty by “professionalism and bureaucracy” that insulate them — and their functionaries — from “feelings of culpability, not to mention empathy or curiosity.”

Poor people have less money, but the system is firmly focused poor people, because people with money can defend themselves. When McGhee went into debt to hire a lawyer, a single letter on official letterhead instantly reduced all that debt by 90% — more than $250k, poof.

It’s expensive to be poor. Take Community Health Systems, one of the largest hospital chains in America. It sues the shit out of poor people. When those people can afford lawyers, CHS loses, because it is chasing debts it is not entitled to collect.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/18/unhealthy-balance-sheet/#health-usury

CHS itself owes $7.6 billion. It turned its first profit in 2020, thanks to hundreds of millions of dollars in state and federal subsidies, and its executives pocketed millions in “performance bonuses” for a performance that consisted of getting bailed out by the public.

The Trump stimulus handed trillions to the richest people and biggest companies in America. Those companies “leveraged up” their handouts to raise trillions more and went on spending sprees, buying up struggling businesses.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/17/divi-recaps/#graebers-ghost

They loaded these companies up with debt, declared “divi recaps” (where you take out a loan on a company you bought on credit and put that money in your own pocket as a “special dividend”) and crashed the companies, destroying jobs and communities.

Plutes know there are three kinds of debt: workers’ debts (which must be repaid), owners’ debts (to be “restructured” away) and government debt (not debt at all, but still handy for terrifying normies with stories of “mortgaging our kids’ futures”).

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/17/disgracenote/#false-consciousness

Forty years of this approach has turned the economy into a shambling zombie, dependent on the fiction that “consumer” debts — repackaged as bonds through financialization — will be repaid, somehow.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

As an ever-larger share of the world’s wealth has shifted from the workers’ side of the balance sheet to the owners’, the ability of workers to buy things to keep businesses afloat as vehicles for debt-leveraging has only declined.

Wage-theft and stagnation, unions in retreat, monopoly, monopsony, tax-preferencing for home-owners over renters, for capital gains over wages, spiraling housing, health and education costs, worker misclassification — wages are annihilated before they’re even deposited.

With no wages left over to fund consumption, there’s only debt, and as Michael Hudson says, “Debts that can’t be repaid, won’t be repaid.” CHS can comfortably carry billions in debts, but the sick people it sues for $201 have to choose between rent and medical debt.

Every loan-shark knows how this works. The chump with $500 who owes you $500 and owes the bank $500 needs an incentive to pay you ahead of the bank. To assert the primacy of your claims, you need an arm-breaker.

The digital world has given us all kinds of fantastic new arm-breakers: digital repo men who can brick your car or your phone. It’s automated the once rare practice of evictions, creating eviction mills that run with devastating efficiency.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Creating a debt-instrument — a bond grounded in the payments from other peoples’ debts — requires that you convince investors and bond-rating agencies that your arm-breaker will terrorize the debtors into paying you instead of child-support or grocery bills.

“The cruelty is the point” isn’t ideology, it’s pure description. The system — an artificial life-form constituted as immortal colony organism that uses us as gut flora — runs on competing claims to your debt, and victory consists of terrorizing you more than any rival.

The financiers who practice leveraged buyouts destroy real businesses, ruin lives and hollow out communities. They are feted as “job creators.” The workers who must borrow to close the gap they leave are “deadbeats.” Leveraged buyouts are back, baby.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/14/billionaire-class-solidarity/#club-deals

If you fret that forgiving student loans and making college free will “saddle our kids with debt,” then you’ve been suckered.

Look. Replacing a system that starts all but the richest children with unserviceable debt with one that doesn’t is liberation, not bondage.

Since Reagan, we’ve been hiking tuition, killing deductions for interest, and shielding student debt from bankruptcy.That’s how you can borrow $79k, pay $190k, still owe $236k, and have 25% taken from every paycheck AND Social Security until you die.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

Debts that can’t be paid, won’t be paid. Student debts do get forgiven, but only for those highly educated, (potentially) highly productive people who can prove that they have been so thoroughly destroyed by debt that they have no future.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/20/sovkitsch/#student-debt

And as McGhee reminds us, the tragedy isn’t merely that we educate people on the pretense of betting on America’s future, but really, the principle use that the system makes of the educated is as collateral for securitized loans.

If the arm-breakers who chased her mother wanted to understand that woman’s humanity, McGhee says they should start here:

“Her humor and her rage were unmatched. In the evenings, against the setting Tennessee sun, she liked to drink red can Cokes in the garden while snuffing cigarettes out against the yard’s ant colonies. She could reckon with anyone just by looking them in the eye. Men were terrified of her, rightfully so. She was sweet. In the last week of her life, when she couldn’t understand where she was or who she was talking to, she greeted everyone the same: ‘Hi, pal. Hope you’re doing okay. When can you come pick me up?’”

Take a second. Re-read that.

#pluralistic

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theshelbyslimited · 2 years ago

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I MISSED YOU JAMIE! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I HOPE YOUR EXAMS WENT OKAY 🤍

"There were little wrinkles on her face that you’d not previously noticed and suddenly you felt the familiar pain of knowing that nothing lasts forever. Your eyes watered slightly at the thought of losing everyone one day." O U C H. I always go through this nearly every week where I'm just suddenly struck w the painful realization that one day everyone I love will die and I'll be left behind 🙃💔

"You started off with the code immediately, assuming anyone could be listening to your calls." I love the way they've created a series of codes so that they can communicate certain things w/o properly having to communicate them (I hope that makes sense 🙈)

“I miss you.” “I miss you too." THEY ARE THE SWEETEST 🥺

“Do you hear me?” “Don’t go calling Noah, just fucking forget him eh? For now. For both your sakes just fucking leave this alone.” wow. harsh Thomas. I get she maybe shouldn't have told Noah but considering she's so out of the loop w it all, he's the only one she feels she can confide in 🙁

"Memories of your late father's hand across your cheek became harder and harder to push down. Memories of the Priest at the orphanage with his hands around your neck flooded your mind." the flashbacks. poor thing :(

“Why would it be for her-” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” NOAH TO THE RESCUE 😭

"She jumped up and he caught her in a large embrace, twirling her around, her laugh echoing. They said nothing as he picked her up and started to carry her the rest of the way back to the house." THE CUTEST 🥺 I'm too fat for that though unfortunately 🤭

“So romantic isn't it?” Esme is me 🥰

“She must have mentioned what's going on. Brought the whole fucking organization by the looks of it.” STOP I LOVE NOAH FOR THIS 🤣🥺

“What are you doing here!” “Bringing Apples.” I know I keep saying it but THEY ARE THE CUTEST 🥺

"Apples? - better not be some kinky shit or ill skin him alive. Tommy thought bitterly" of course Tommy would worry the apples means something sexual 🤣

“I heard that things were getting a bit dangerous in these parts. Thought the least I could do is ask around and come to help out.” "His stare was intense as you realized the full extent of what he meant. He brought everyone here to protect you." NOAHHH 😭 I LOVE YOU SIR 😭

“Eh, the boy wouldn't shut up. He’s miserable when he starts. Just like his mum was.” so basically, Alfie only agreed so Noah would shut up 🤣

“Look, we love our daughter, you love your son. For their sake let’s try to keep things as normal as possible. No business when they are around. Whether things work out or not let's just try to get along like parents would?” yes mama Lizzie 🙌🏽

“Our families are more friends than they are enemies. I’m not interested in business, your dad worked hard to get his life cleaned up. I respect him for not wanting you to fall into all this.” “Does that mean you’d leave it behind?” “In a heartbeat." SO SOFT FOR THEM 🥺

“Your dad is a right savage. He ever tell you about the time with the Russians? Savage.” ALFIE 🤣 for fuck sakes 🤣

“Numbers, I like that. Smart girl, people like us always need clever accountants. Very sharp.” Alfie, how nice of you 🥺

“I think he is darling. Try not to stress over it.” although I enjoy the odd moments between Y/N and Tommy, the relationship she has w Lizzie is so heartwarming and it's what both of them deserve 🥰😭

let me start by saying, I love how Y/N finds comfort in sleeping between Lizzie and Tommy. it is so adorable and it's so wholesome knowing that she most likely does it bc she feels safest between her parents.

I think Noah ultimately has good intentions and just wants to do whatever it takes to keep Y/N safe, even if he has to pester his father into helping out w it. I cannot wait for more chaos as these two families are forced to stay together right now while awaiting the arrival of the Changrettas. amazing work as always my love and thank you so much for this! I LOVE U ❤️

Closing Walls & Ticking Clocks is one of my favourite current series from you and I'd love a chapter where both sides of the family 'attempt' to have a peaceful dinner as a truce that eventually turns into the chaos one would expect when the Solomons + the Shelbys come together 🤭🙈 lots of love from Cass, proud of you always my friend.

Lovely Cass!

This is a whole bunch of things and it does include a dinner but most of the chaos will be in the next chapter! Hope you like where this is going. Love you ❤️

Rated: nothing explicit. The reader has an anxiety attack - not described in too much detail, but there are flashbacks to abuse, and she is comforted immediately. Mentions of losing a baby in the past, usual Shelby drama / peaky related themes

Previous parts: click here

You watched closely as Lizzie and Tommy navigated their relationship. He’d become much more protective of her, trying to be by her side more.

You’d sneakily traded bits and pieces of information about you and Noah to Polly till she was tipsy enough to give you more details about what had happened to Ruby. Once finished her eyes glazed over as she looked into the fire. You knew that she put on a sunny exterior for you and the kids, but deep down she looked an awful lot like Tommy in these moments.

Tired.

There were little wrinkles on her face that you’d not previously noticed and suddenly you felt the familiar pain of knowing that nothing lasts forever. Your eyes watered slightly at the thought of losing everyone one day.

“Time is all you have in the end.” She said darkly as if reading your thoughts. “Lizzie’s tough, she’ll be fine, love.” She followed in her usual tone.

The next few days you felt weighed down by Lizzie’s story. Unfortunately, there was nothing for you to do other than hope and pray that things would be different. Doctors were in and out frequently, and you’d walk in step with them asking questions till Tommy would tell you off.

The only thing that took your mind off of her, was the ever-growing threat against the family. Faceless, nameless, and motivated by revenge. No one would answer your questions or concerns.

Not knowing what else to do you called Noah. Mostly because you missed him, but also because you hoped that if Alfie had heard anything Noah would pass it along to you. The sound of his deep voice was enough to make your shoulders drop and you slid down the kitchen wall, taking a stolen cigarette out of your pocket. You started off with the code immediately, assuming anyone could be listening to your calls.

“I got a new coat ordered, it's Red. Going to match my Red shoes.” You said in a girly tone.

Red - things are sketchy, don't say too much.

“I liked the green one personally. Should I come around later? ” There was a faint tone of worry in his voice that made your knees weak.

“No, dad’s very busy. Lots of things happening with the business, you know how it can get.” You brushed him off taking a long drag of your cigarette. Wishing more than anything you could rest in his arms for a bit.

“I miss you.” He said softly and you heard an eruption of abuse calling after him from the men in the warehouse.

“I miss you too. Tell your dad I say hi? Might need to bring some apples around to make a pie one of these days.”

Apples - help.

“I’m sure he’d like that. When are you available to come around?”

“Anytime over the next few weeks should be fine. Nothing urgent is happening with me at the moment.” Things felt very urgent. But you didn't want to worry him.

“Just missing you both. Your dad always has so much to say.” You laughed a little remembering the brief meeting you’d had with him.

“We miss you too, love.”

“I’ll call you tonight.”

“Bye.” The line went dead and you hoped he understood what you were asking for.

You took a few breaths before getting back on your feet. You quickly opened a window and aired out the space before going up to find Lizzie. You spent the day by her side trying to make her laugh. When she’d get quiet you’d tuck in next to her and read. You found a great deal of comfort in being beside her and with the way she’d press a kiss to the top of your head or run her hand down your arm you felt she must feel the same.

That night, faceless men started following you in your sleep leaving you with the feeling that you were being watched. The phone rang sending you out of your bed and flying down the hallway. The ringing had stopped before you reached the phone at the bottom of the stairs. Moving into Tommy’s study you assumed he’d be giving Noah a hard time like he usually did. But it was silent. Your dad’s face was emotionless and cold as he looked up from his desk. He listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone.

“That won’t be necessary.” Swiftly he ended the call while putting out the cigarette dangling from his other hand.

“They are going to start closing in on us. No phone calls, no one in, and no one out of the house. You hear me?” His eyes were dark and for once you understood why people were so afraid of him. You froze on the spot your brain understanding what he was trying to say, but the rest of you only registered his tone. A wave of irrational panic started to shoot through you. He never talked to you that way ever.

“Do you hear me?” His words cut into you. “Don’t go calling Noah, just fucking forget him eh? For now. For both your sakes just fucking leave this alone.”

I fucked up. He blames me.

Memories of your late father's hand across your cheek became harder and harder to push down. Memories of the Priest at the orphanage with his hands around your neck flooded your mind.

Suddenly he got up from his seat and instead of running you decided to drop to the floor finally breaking eye contact. You tried to push him away as he picked you up and without a word he carried your shaking body upstairs. Your mind was racing in a hundred different directions accepting your fate, you squeezed your eyes shut. You heard a door open and then you were placed on a bed, but the sheets were wrong.

“What’s wrong with her.” Lizzie hissed and you felt her hands cradle your face.

“I may have shouted at her,” Tommy responded in an exasperated tone. He picked you up and placed you properly next to Lizzie.

“You shout at each other all the time?” She whispered, her cool fingers brushing the worry lines from your forehead. “Thomas,” She said in a tone that would wilt flowers.

“I’m fine.” You whisper. You felt the two of them get you under a blanket.

“Look, look at me.” He said softly. You shook your head, afraid to see that awful look in his eyes again. He said your name and Lizzie put her arm around you. You could tell by her sharp intake of breath that whatever she was about to say would be fatal. You opened your eyes and saw the version of him you were used to.

“Alfie and I don't have the best track record. He’s sold us out a few times, Eh? He works for the highest bidder. The last thing I want to see is you or the boy caught up in this. I don’t want either of you hurt. I know you will blame yourself for the rest of your life if something happens to him.”

Grace.

His words started to make sense, well, they always made sense. It was the way he said it that set you off. You nodded to show that you understood. He kissed your forehead and you made an unsuccessful effort to not jump away. The hurt in his eyes and the way Lizzie tensed up caused you to tell the truth.

“It’s not you. My dad- the priest - I - “ You took a deep breath. “I figured I was in for a beating. Just caught me off guard. You're fine. Thank you for caring about Noah.”

“Care is a bit much-”

“Thomas,” Lizzie warned. He let out a sigh, something flashed in his face and you assumed it was wonder about how he ended up here.

“What? Look, no one is putting their hands on you, certainly not me. And if anyone does I’ll kill them myself.”

You nodded and were grateful that those words ended the evening. You held his hand until you felt like you could doze off. Lizzie had fallen asleep again and you moved her arm off of you gently before kissing Tommy good night.

You fell asleep the moment your head touched the pillow.

Waking up your heart sank at the thought of not seeing or speaking to Noah for an undermined about of time. Sadness quickly turned into rage at the thought of some of the girls in your class moving in on him in your absence. With a huff of defeat, you got up and stuffed your feet into your slippers. Opening the curtain you were met with a positively gorgeous sight. The forest was coated in a heavy blanket of white snow.

Everything was pushed from your head momentarily as you ran through the house to find your parents. Loud voices were drifting up from the stairs and suddenly you were met with the whole family stuffed into the entryway. Swearing and shouting at the kids and where people's things were, the chaos only added to your high spirits.

“What's going on?”

“Movin' in!” Arthur boomed pulling you into a hug. The maids floated passed you to help bring everyone's things in. You naturally moved to Tommy’s side.

“Dad! Did you see the snow!”

“It’s hard to miss.”

“Can we go for a walk today?” You wanted to spend time with him just to ensure everything was good between the two of you. John came close and pressed his shoulder against Tommy’s before he could answer.

“Whole pack of cars just pulled up to the gate,” John said in a hushed voice. “M’ assuming it's for her.” He nodded towards you with a small smile.

“Why would it be for her-” Tommy stopped suddenly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Knowing that look could only mean it was Noah, you moved passed everyone to set out onto the front steps.

It looked like the King was coming though. A whole parade of black cars rolled up and started pouring in from the gate. Without better judgment, you kicked off your slippers and tore down the steps in nothing but your nightgown and wool jumper.

“No! -” Tommy shouted but you saw the third black car slow down and Noah got out and started towards you. Everything was pushed from your mind as you ran through the snow-covered drive.

___

She jumped up and he caught her in a large embrace, twirling her around, her laugh echoing. They said nothing as he picked her up and started to carry her the rest of the way back to the house.

“So romantic isn't it?” Esme said and Tommy resisted the urge to put a hole in the wall.

“Young love. Can’t be stopped can it?” Lizzie said appearing out of nowhere.

“She must have mentioned what's going on. Brought the whole fucking organization by the looks of it.” Esme responded. Lizzie looked over to Tommy, his posture made her quickly grab his arm to lean against him.

“Not sure how they’re going to get back to London in this weather,” Polly stated the obvious with a devious smile on her face.

Noah carried her all the way up the stairs placing her on the entryway carpet.

“What are you doing here!” She said breathlessly, her face pink.

“Bringing Apples.” He answered easily. Her face lit up as everyone watched in confusion. Whatever it was it meant a lot to her.

Apples? - better not be some kinky shit or ill skin him alive. Tommy thought bitterly as Alfie came into view.

“Morning,” Alfie said looking pleased with himself. “Word on the street says the Shelbys are back under one roof.”

“Office,” Tommy said pulling Lizzie alongside him. Arthur and John watched Alfie closely as they all descended into the office.

__________

The office door closed and you looked back up at Noah still unbelieving that he was there. After carrying you all that way your flushed body was most certain of his close presence, but your mind was more stubborn. You thought maybe his dad would call if he heard anything. You didn't think he’d come all this way in a snowstorm. He kept you close and you were desperate to talk to him alone. A look that must have been obvious as Esme suddenly started herding you all into the Kitchens.

“Long journey like that requires a hot cuppa tea!”

The three of you sat at the table while the kids ran wildly through the house. She poured glasses of whiskey and hot tea before starting her interrogation.

“So all the way from London, that’s a long way for some tea.”

He chuckled and took a sip of the whiskey before answering.

“It's excellent tea.” He smiled at you and your face turned hot. “I heard that things were getting a bit dangerous in these parts. Thought the least I could do is ask around and come to help out.” His stare was intense as you realized the full extent of what he meant. He brought everyone here to protect you.

“Interesting and what did you hear exactly?”

“The Changretta family was taking a special interest in the whereabouts of the family. They came to us, the day before some Irish lads told us that you were all moving back to watery lane. You called later on saying things were dangerous.”

“And all the lads?”

“Wasn’t sure what type of folks you had protecting the place. Figured more wouldn't be a problem.”

“And your Da’ what’s in it for him?”

“Ah, that I’m not quite sure of. I��d like to think that they did it because I asked. But he and Thomas always seem to have something going on between them.”

Esme nodded satisfied with her answers.

“So you brought men - “

“And guns.”

“Men and guns, but how are the two of you going to get back to London.”

“Figured we join in on the fun.” He shrugged. Esme let out a laugh.

________________________________

“I told you this wasn't necessary,” Tommy said in a tense voice.

“Eh, the boy wouldn't shut up. He’s miserable when he starts. Just like his mum was.” Alfie said looking around.

“Why help us?” Arthur asked with clenched fists.

“Well, things are a bit different these days, no?”

“Not different to us. Kids in love or not, we still have history, and this isn't a time to be doing business.” John said responding before Arthur could get them into trouble.

“Irish boys are out on the street saying that the Shelby clan are moving back to Watery lane. Changretta are chasing every lead they get for information about you lot. Gave me an offer to help finish you off.”

“And?” Tommy said cooly.

“And I told them I’d see it done. The real question is how are we going to get back at them if we are holed up in the house?”

“The snow -” John started.

“-Will give us time to plan, but we’ll need to be ready once the roads clear.”

“Again why help us?” Tommy asked.

“I have a business offer.” Tommy knew he wouldn't give more information with everyone in the room.

“You lot out.” He waved for everyone but Lizzie and Alfie to leave. Once the door was shut he waited for him to go on.

“Well, this gives me a couple opportunities. To spend time with your girl and also to ask about the passages you used to transport certain goods. I’ll assume you still know some people.”

“I’ll have it done,” Tommy said after a long moment.

“Thomas, I’m not sure I like where this is going. He’s a fucking mess without her.” Alfie said in a low tone.

“That makes two of us,” Tommy answered sternly.

“If I find out this is some big play to get back at me I’ll be sure you all pay a hefty price.”

“Trust me, this is the last thing I want her involved in."

The two men stared at each other for a long while.

“Deal.” Alfie put his hand out and they shook on it.

______________________

Soon enough the Sitting room was packed. You were very amused at Alfie and Noah being thrown into the mix. You sat next to him and you both kept a close eye on Tommy and Alfie leaving to speak in private with the boys every time information came in.

“Do you want to go for a walk with me?” You asked desperate for some fresh air and space to talk freely about what he’d said to Esme.

“Not sure that’s the best idea. Don’t want you to catch a cold.” He looked around the room giving away his actual motive.

“Sit outside on the steps for a bit?” You bargained. Somehow you both managed to slip out unnoticed and went to sit on the steps at the back door. Lots of camps were set up with big fires and people making jokes and laughing.

“So you know about these Changretta folks?” You watched his face closely as he thought about his response.

“Not really my place, love.” He lit a cigarette and avoided your eyes.

“Please? No one will tell me anything.” He let out a sigh and you leaned against his side, he wrapped his arm around you.

“They are an Italian family. Apparently, John killed off a guy for dating Lizzie a while back. Things went back and forth before they had their hands full with other things. Now Luca has come back to avenge his family by taking yours out.”

“And you are involved because of me?” You said weakly.

“Dad’s been trying to expand business in New York for a while now, plus he wants something from Tommy.” His eyes told you it was something else. “Even without that stuff, we’d be here. Not going to leave you alone when I know I can help.” You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. Enjoying the smell of cigarette smoke and the warmth of his hand on your cheek.

“Wait - John killed someone for dating Lizzie? What - wait what do you know about my family?”

“Erm- A fair bit, I suppose.” A dark feeling made itself present in the pit of your stomach. You mentally slapped yourself for not asking these types of questions sooner. You looked at him sprawled on the top stair smoking his cigarette. Revisiting Tommy’s words from the night before about how Alfie had sold them out.

What if you’d just brought the enemy into the house? What if that’s why he’s with you.

“Our families are more friends than they are enemies. I’m not interested in business, your dad worked hard to get his life cleaned up. I respect him for not wanting you to fall into all this.”

“Does that mean you’d leave it behind?” He leaned in closer to you and you suddenly wanted more than anything to kiss him again.

“In a heartbeat.” He kissed your forehead before helping you up.

___________________________________

Tommy sat at the table, a task that was already challenging with his family. Alfie and Noah were an interesting addition. He would never admit it but having them here wasn't as horrible as he thought it would be. Alfie was well-behaved, and for the first time, Tommy got the feeling that perhaps the two of them were getting old.

Most of the dinner was spent harassing the two teens. Noah took on the worst of it.

“Your dad is a right savage. He ever tell you about the time with the Russians? Savage.”

“Alfie,” Tommy warned.

“You should have seen them the whole lot of them acting like animals. We stole -”

“Alfie.” He said more sternly.

“Fine, but what about the time with the bear in the pub - that’s a right classic.”

“Bear in the pub?” Lizzie asked as Tommy finished the last of his drink.

“Nother time I suppose.” He scratched his beard. “Well, what about you love, what are you planning to do after school.”

“I erm - well I was thinking of pursuing accounting. Always jobs for that and I’m good with numbers. I haven't thought about it much.”

“Numbers, I like that. Smart girl, people like us always need clever accountants. Very sharp.” Alfie said cheerfully and Tommy hated how she was eating up his approval.

“If you were to be married -”

“Alfie” Tommy growled earning a laugh from Esme. Arthur looked positively distraught over the concept, reaching for the whisky bottle.

“We can save that for later I suppose. Hmmm well, there was how we first met - do you remember darling?” He looked over at Tommy and it wasn't unnoticed how annoyed he was.

“What if we don't tell stories tonight, eh?” Tommy suggested tensely. Alfie thought about it for a moment before turning to Polly.

“Are you really a gypsy queen? Does that make you sort of famous amongst your people?” He started again and Tommy was suddenly worried that they would run out of whiskey if the snow was actually going to stick for a full week. Esme seemed to find the whole thing hilarious often indulging him with stories and jokes. Tommy was grateful for her ability to keep things civil. Eventually, Arthur was looking slightly pickled and it was well past eleven.

He locked eyes with Polly and she asked a silent question.

Should we keep drinking, or go to bed?

Everyone hated the dining room, this was probably the most time they’d managed to spend in it, but moving to the kitchen was more a family-only type thing. Looking over to Lizzie answered the question well enough. She looked beautiful but exhausted.

“Bout time for bed eh?” Polly announced.

“Guess so. Help me with the stables?” Arthur asked you and you nodded looking slightly surprised. Which meant something was most certainly going on. There was no reason to help with the stables.

“Francis, can you show everyone to their rooms?” Tommy asked easily.

“Of course.” She answered.

Tommy watched as you gave Noah a hug, he whispered something in your ear that made you smile. Then you moved into the entryway to pull your boots on.

“Night.” Tommy nodded at Alfie.

“Night” He nodded back.

After helping Lizzie up to the room he went out the stables to see what the commotion was about. He followed the dark path to the stables.

“No way. No absolutely no. How? I just - you and Lizzie. Does Esme know?!” Your voice called out as he approached the door.

“Well, I’m sure it's been mentioned but let's not bring up the past eh?” John responded looking slightly pale. Tommy leaned against the doorway watching his two brothers attempt to lecture you. John sitting on a bucket as Arthur paced in front of you. You saw him standing there but decided to keep quiet.

“Anyway the point is. Lots of stuff between us and the Solomons eh.” Arthur started

“Can’t trust em” John added

“And trust me. I know exactly what you're thinking. Oooh he’s so handsome and he smokes cigarettes and his hair's all swoopy and he’s got nice muscles. He’s all mysterious and dangerous. Swoon, maybe I could change him.”

“You can't,” John said nodding.

“Absolutely can’t change him.” Arthur continued. “Now he’s here because he’s done business with Tommy. Once he’s gotten what he wants and this mess is cleaned up. He’s going to be on to the next lass.”

“You’ll be devastated.”

“So don't even think about sleeping with him. He’s probably fuck-” Tommy watched your face pinch up similar to the way it had before you fell to the floor the night before.

“That’s enough Arthur.” Tommy interrupted sharply. “I think she understands.”

You nodded hiding away the hurt in your eyes.

“How many random people have you guys killed?” You asked.

“I don’t know about random…” John mumbled

“Are we including the war?” Arthur asked. Tommy thought about the past and wondered if what you’d seen in your life would make you understanding of the choices he’d made.

“Okay so let me get this straight. Lizzie was a wh-prostitute, sleeping with Tommy then John wanted to marry her - but you ruined it - Gace - the Grace was gone, then back, then passed, and then you started sleeping with Lizzie again as her boss - and then you married her when she got pregnant - then got me when Ruby passed?”

“More or less” Tommy shrugged, seemed a bit over the top when it's all laid out like that.

“Wait till she hears about Gretta,” Arthur said quietly.

“And all the others in between-” John added before stopping himself.

“Do you love her?” Your voice was steady, and he knew you well enough to know you were gearing up for a fight.

“Yes.” He answered seriously.

“Promise?”

“Got you so she’d stay.” He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say. “Ruby brought us together, but I think it was meant to be from the start.”

You nodded thinking for a moment.

“Do you think Alfie is here to kill us in our sleep?”

“No, I think Alfie’s here because he wants a piece of New York and wants Changretta out of the way.”

“Do you think Noah’s with me to ruin the family?”

“No. Alfie wouldn't send his son to his dirty work. I’m not sure of his intentions, but I don’t think they are related to the business.”

“So you think he likes me for me?”

“I think teenage boys are awful and cruel. For his sake, he better like you for you. Or we’ll handle it.”

“Either way you won't leave me?” Your eyes narrowed and he could tell it was difficult for you to get the words out.

“Never.”

“No matter how bad I fuck up?”

“Never.” He repeated. “That being said you can sleep in with Lizzie tonight.”

“Was going to sleep with Pol.”

“No.” He answered easily.

“Alright.” You said without fuss surprising him.

“Now is there anything else you both left out?” He looked and John and Arthur.

“Well, we could be out here all night-”

“Let’s not and say we did, eh?

They all piled back into the house and you followed Tommy up the stairs before going back to your room to change.

_________________

After getting ready in your bathroom you noticed that your bedding had already been moved. You slowly made your way to your parent's room down the hall. Getting close to the door you heard them talking.

“Well, how would you know what she thinks of me now?” Lizzie snapped. You decided to make your way in there to break up whatever they were arguing about.

“Probably no different than she’s always thought of you.” He mumbled as you came into the room.

Lizzie gave you a strange look and suddenly you thought back to how Arthur had spoken about her past. You stepped over your cot at the foot of the bed to climb up in between them.

You placed yourself against her side and enjoyed the way she embraced you.

“Are you frightened again?” She whispered, running her hands through your hair.

“No - well I’m not sure. I want to think Noah’s here for the right reasons.”

“I think he is darling. Try not to stress over it.”She placed a kiss on your head and you felt better knowing what she thought.

You considered going back to the floor but to put Tommy at ease you stayed between them dozing off.

#tv: peaky blinders.#c's fic recs.#fav.

174 notes · View notes

likeawildthing · 4 years ago

Text

Not to be morbid on main, but everyone dies and people are rarely prepared for it. It’s so much easier when you know your loved one’s wishes. So even if you’re a teenager or twenty-three and healthy, I hope this helps you start thinking about end-of-life wishes, because it can happen to us all (both the dying and, rudely, being died upon).

Cremations are an affordable way to subvert the funeral industry, but going this route puts the burden of “the little things” on the family. I’ve learned a lot in the last 36 hours and wanted to pass those things that weren’t on any checklists, because the burden is on you to navigate the process.

Putting this under a cut because it’s so long (although not comprehensive). Obviously some of this is altered because COVID and some is meant to be applicable in some distant, theoretical future when we can go out to lunch again.

Before you die

Think about it, talk about it, write it down

Think about what kind of rememberance you want, if any. If it doesn’t matter, tell people that so they don’t fret about it and grieve in whatever way works best for them.

Communicate now to save your family and friends angst later.

Build an “in case of death” binder, zip drive, google doc with links, etc. Make sure your passwords are up to date so that’s not an administrative nightmare for your loved ones.

Advanced directives. Here’s a great article explaining the types of medical advanced directives and decisions to make before an accident or illness happens, including whether you want to donate your organs.

We lost grandma for about twenty minutes yesteday because we couldn’t find the paperwork and grandpa couldn’t remember where they signed up for services. Death. Binder. Have a death binder/folder/zip drive so no one loses grandma.

Insurance.

You likely have insurance through work, so consider that. It will also expire if you leave your job.

You can usually get, with minimal fuss, a 10- or 20-year term policy with enough to cover your arrangements and debts for less than $20 a month. Death expenses are anywhere from $5-$20k, conservatively.

Talk to your auto insurance agent and score a multi-line discount.

Body snatchers.

If you want to be cremated, talk to a local crematory beforehand and give them your basic information. It can be paid out of your estate (i.e. by your family or a life insurance policy) when it happens.

Most funeral homes (I believe) require pre-payment. It’s super morbid but there are TONS of heavily discounted grave sites for sale on Craigslist if that’s the route you want to go.

Here’s a list of certified green burial sites in the US.

Donating your body to science 101.

Memorial service.

The idea of a “proper” funeral is more or less out the window, especially in the time of COVID. Celebration of life? Religious ceremony (or not)? A picnic at your favorite park? Anything goes, so figure it out now.

When my sister-in-law died, we had a celebration of life at a non-profit who donated the space and had a poker tournament with her ash tin (she lost).

Whether you have strong or no preferences, write that down to guide decision-making.

Memorials.

Traditionally people would donate money in the event of a death to a charity, foundation, or family account, or flowers to a funeral home or church.

Family accounts (like for children) are traditionally done in care of the deceased’s bank but online fundraisers are a thing.

If you have a particular charity you love, add this to your list of wishes.

Food.

Before COVID it was pretty typical for there to be some kind of meal after a funeral. Will this be a restaurant?

This is ultimately up to the family but if you have strong preferences (i.e. no church or Italian food), tell people now.

Obituary.

Writing down the basic facts of your life, hobbies, and accomplishments you want included in your obituary means your family doesn’t have to do a guessing game.

Plants, animals, stuff, etc.

Do you want your clothes to go to a specific charity?

Do you NOT want your stuff to go to a specific charity? (Goodwill is terrible!)

Who will get your car (person, donate, sell)? Want to have your record collection to go one sister? Obviously family will divvy up stuff how they like, but write down any special considerations.

Have a plan for your pets (insurance, vet info, guardianship).

Please organize and digitize your photos if they aren’t already.

If you lose someone close:

Identify the primary griever

Support that person/those people by providing feedback when solicited, running errands as needed, and running interference so they aren’t inundated with all the little things.

Notifying people

Use the phone tree method. Great Aunt M will be happy to help by calling your cousins. Your boss, coworkers and HR. Your mom’s best friend/your adoptive aunt, your mom’s bunco group.

Ask that family not put anything on social media until the principal people are informed. I found out my grandpa died on facebook!

Esp these days, set boundaries for visits (who, where, and in what capacity).

Designate one person to be the primary contact for extended family to keep the burden off the primary griever(s).

Give this persons’ information when the first phone calls are made. It also makes sense for this person to be the travel coordinator.

This person should have a good handle on family dynamics (i.e. my aunt is flying in and would drive my grandma nuts so she’s staying with Mom).

This should be their only task because it’s time consuming.

Food

When people die, people gather, even in the time of COVID. Be responsible but expect a ton of drop by food. Clean out the primary griever’s fridge in anticipaton.

Organization

Start a shared family Google doc or sheet. Consolidate to do lists, anecdotes, important contact information, questions and inquiries, etc.

Pay to have the houses of anyone hosting (gatherings, people coming in from out of town, etc.) cleaned. Or, delegate. This can be an act of service for someone who wants to help and doesn’t mind doing the work.

Find the death binder (hopefully), legal documentation, etc. Get a folder or binder for papers if one doesn’t exist. And start a shared google doc for loved ones to track everything.

Delegate

I know I have said this three times, but it’s important. If you’re a primary decision maker do not be the primary do-er. My mom is the primary decision maker so my sisters and I are doing literally everything else.

Say YES when people ask if they can help you. Look at your running list of to-dos and say yes.

Pay to have the houses of people who are hosting cleaned. It will seriously be such a life saver, or this can be an act of service for someone who wants to help.

Social media

You will need to decide what to do with a person’s social media. Do you start a tribute page? Turn their facebook (if they’re old) into a tribute page for a time? Indefinitely? Things to think about.

Thank yous

Keep a running list of people to thank after via hand-written thank you notes. The link includes guidelines on

who should receive a thank you note (gave flowers, brought food, made donations, helped with arrangements or the service(s), did readings, or went well out of their way to warm your heart or show up)

when to send them (ideally 2-3 weeks after the funeral)

here’s how to write them (it doesn’t matter if you buy fancy, ones or dollar store ones, make sure they’re hand written).

Receipts.

Don’t be the petty biatch your cousins hate, but do save significant receipts to be reimbursed by the estate. (I.e. catering hundreds of dollars of food, paying $250 for programs and thank-you cards like I just did, etc.)

Service.

You will have a million decisions to make including

what kind of service to hold, if any

where to hold it

costs

hymns, readings, and anecdotes to share

who will be pall bearers, readers, vocalists, and give eulogies

Crematories handle cremation only, not the service details.

you will need photo boards (Hobby Lobby has nice black foamcore ones) or a powerpoint (and a way to display it depending on the venue)

a guest or memorial book

a card basket,

memorial cards, possibly programs, and thank you cards

Officiants, musicians, religious institutions, etc. all need to be paid (and tipped) for their time.

If we ever wrangle this pandemic, donating funeral flowers to a nursing homes is a fantastic way to brighten residents’ days.

Obituary.

Obituaries are expected, but traditionally costly ($200-$800). As part of the publishing fee, most newspapers keep the obituary on legacy.com indefinitely.

A funeral home will assist you with this, but the burden will be on you and your loved ones if using other methods.

These take hours to write and many hands does not make light work. Keep it to 2-4 key people. Having the facts laid out will help, and so will looking at other obituaries. I read a great tip which was to write about your loved one in present tense first, then change the tense before submission.

Newspapers will update your spelling and grammar but that’s about it. Cheaper alternatives:

Death notice which gives age, date and location of death, and who is handling funeral arrangements. Our crematory put in the death notice for us because they had her body, but the requirements on this likely vary state-to-state.

Here is a place to put a free online obituary.

Plants, animals, stuff, etc.

Save the plants and pets.

Household misc. are usually not dictated by the will, except in special circumstances or contested items. Closest members will go through possessions first. Voice early if you want something in particular, but understand that you may not get it. That’s ok.

Going through someone’s life is an overwhelming process. You may be repulsed and sad and overwhelmed and amused, all at the same time.

In deciding what to keep, as I’ve now cleared out three houses, I’ve found that quality over quantity is the way to go. The sweet spot? 1-2 sentimental + useful things. My great grandmother’s thimble and juicer? Use them all the time, and I remember her lemonade.

It’s okay to throw away some keepsakes and let things get thrown out or donated, depending on the thing.

Don’t give into guilt if you don’t want the china your Aunt Karen is pressuring you into taking when she doesn’t want it either.

Legal stuff.

If someone dies, there will be all kinds of legal things you will need to do (bank accounts, utilities, debtors, education, etc.), investments or 401k, etc.

This varies too much by state and circumstance to talk about in depth but there are guides to specifically help you.

If someone you love has lost someone they love

Do not give platitudes or ask if they’re ok

Don’t expect a response from someone grieving

Do send a card! It’s so thoughtful. I keep a stack of blank condolence cards and a set of forever stamps in my closet. It doesn’t have to be a $20 card to be special.

Don’t judge someone by how they grieve

Offer specific, actionable help if you’re close enough to give it

I am going to come over and clean at 10, leave the house unlocked

I’m at the store and am going to buy cheap vodka unless you tell me what kind of wine you want

oops I got you an uber eats gift card in your gmail sorry/not sorry

Buy thank you cards with stamps as a condolence gift, depending on the person and situation

Send a plant instead of a bouquet of flowers

Make a donation in the loved one’s name if you have the funds

If the grieving person is someone super close (best friend, sister, etc.) add the date in your recurring calender so you can check up on them this day next year with a card and/or phone call

#cw death #grief #end-of-life decisions

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rwhague · 4 years ago

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Overview of Mental Health for Writers

Often with writing, we put our characters through hell. Some of the worst experiences are narrated in our stories leaving scars on our characters. These scars show up in the form of depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, etc. in our characters, but unless one has first-hand experiencing these things, they can be hard to get write. And in a world where our readers actually have their own mental health struggles, it is important that we get it RIGHT.

As a registered nurse, I have a different view of mental health that shows up in my character development. I also experienced quite a bit of post-partum depression and anxiety which gave me an eye-opening view of mental health and how it is handled in the US. Long story short: I wasn’t impressed. For the next several blog posts, I’m going to be using my old nursing school textbooks and using that information to show how to write convincing characters that are suffering with mental health crisis.

This will not be a guide to be used to diagnose or treat mental illnesses. It is strictly a writer’s character development tool.

A mental disorder is “a clinically significant behavioral or psychological syndrome or pattern that occurs in an individual and is associated with present distress or disability or with a significantly increased risk of suffering death, pain, disability, or an important loss of freedom.” (Videbeck p. 3) So basically, if a person has a moment of anxiety, it does not mean that they have an ‘anxiety disorder.’ Everyone gets anxious now and again. An anxiety disorder would be someone who deals with anxiety often enough that it is hindering something in their life. For example, they can’t go to work because of the anxiety, or they develop an eating disorder, or they can’t leave the house. The anxiety is so bad that life—or areas of life—become impossible or very hard.

I got to this point dealing with my anxiety where life was nearly impossible. I couldn’t sleep, eat, work, write, or take care of my child. It was one of the lowest points of my life. This led to depression and thoughts of suicide. It was not that I wanted to die—I just couldn’t keep living with this constant sensation of wanting to rip my hair out.

It’s been 9 months since the worst of it, and I am still recovering while under the care of a therapist. The anxiety is still there—it probably always will be—but we’ve been working very hard on using coping mechanisms. I’ve come a long way and still have a long way to go. But now I have hope, which is something I didn’t have before.

But anyways. . .

There are several different types and classifications of mental/psychiatric disorders. Keep in mind that all of these can come about for different reasons. Some are related to genetics, others physical health issues, stress, and trauma. Each impact a person to different levels and treatments are not identical. Here is a basic list of them:

Anxiety: A vague feeling of dread or apprehension; it is a response to external or internal stimuli that can have behavioral, emotional, cognitive, and physical symptoms. A person with an anxiety disorder demonstrates unusual behaviors such as panic without reason, unwarranted fear of objects or life conditions, uncontrollable repetitive actions, reexperiencing traumatic events, or unexplainable or overwhelming worry. They experience significant distress over time, and the disorder significantly impairs daily routines, social lives, and occupational functioning. (Videbeck p. 227)

Schizophrenia: Causes distorted and bizarre thoughts, perceptions, emotions, movements, and behavior. It cannot be defined as a single illness; rather, schizophrenia is thought of as a syndrome or as disease process with many different varieties and symptoms, much like the varieties of cancer. A person with schizophrenia is characterized by some of the following: delusions, hallucinations, and grossly disorganized thinking, speech, and behavior, flat affect (or seemingly lack of expressions during social situations), lack of volition, and social withdrawal or discomfort. (Videbeck p. 252)

Mood Disorders: Also called affective disorders are pervasive alterations in emotions that are manifested by depression, mania, or both. These interfere with a person’s life, plaguing him or her with drastic and long-term sadness, agitation, or elation. Accompanying self-doubt, guilt, and anger alter life activities, especially those that involve self-esteem, occupation, and relationships. (Videbeck, p. 281)

Personality Disorders: Diagnosed when personality traits become inflexible and maladaptive and significantly interfere with how a person functions in society or cause the person emotional distress. (Videbeck p. 319)

Substance Abuse: A person using a drug in a way that is inconsistent with medical or social norms and despite negative consequences. (Videbeck p. 349)

Eating Disorders: Can be viewed on a continuum, with people with anorexia eating too little or starving themselves, to people with bulimia who eat chaotically, and people with obesity eating too much. (Videbeck p. 373)

Somatoform Disorders: The presence of physical symptoms that suggest a medical condition without a demonstrable organic basis to account fully for them. (Videbeck p. 393) For example: a person who has a limp but no underlying injury.

Cognitive Disorders: A disruption or impairment in the higher-level functions of the brain. They have devastating effects on the ability to function in daily life. They can cause people to forget the names of immediate family members, to be unable to perform daily household tasks, and to neglect personal hygiene. (Videbeck p. 440)

Keep in mind there can be quite a bit of overlap within each of these mental health categories. A person suffering anxiety can have a personality disorder. Or a person with depression can have a problem with substance abuse.

Obviously, this is just a very broad overview of mental/psychiatric health. The following posts are going to be breaking down each of these disorders on an understandable level and providing applications for writers on how to incorporate these things into your stories.

Psychiatric-Mental Health Nursing, by Sheila L. Videbeck, fifth ed., Wolters Kluwer/Lippincott Williams & Wilkins, 2011.

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secondhoekage · 5 years ago

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Ignore this long rant I’m high as shit but I... can’t take the hero commission oR HONESTLY THE HEROES THEMSELVES, seriously anymore

They’re BRAINLESS they all share one (1) brain cell and it belonged to Crust. THESE GUYS had MONTHS to strategize this attack and what did they do? They fucked it up. They want me to believe this was planned and not written on a chalk board the night before? Sent out to all heroes the next morning at 8am in a CHAIN EMAIL?

Unpopular opinion(?): they sent the worst possible, ill-suited heroes to each location for this PLF raid and I’m mad at them for it and I’m mad at Hori for making me be mad at it even tho he had to do it beCauSe oF pLot but I’m mad.

The MLA’s plans to take on The League of Villains? Spotless. Chef’s kiss. The detail. The one-on-one counters they planned out. Accounting for each enemy’s quirk. Yeah there were like 6 of them to account for but?? Heroes, yall had enough info and enough time to think of ways to go about this raid and I’m supposed to believe that you did, BUT DID YOU REALLY? MONTHS TO PLAN, and saw one electric Sir Crocodile rip-off and immediately threw Kaminari on his ass. Good move. Kinda. But the rest of the PLF? Heroes just gonna make shit up as they go I guess??

To make myself feel better here’s a long ass useless rant on what could’ve damn happened and which heroes should’ve gone where and to make this an epic ass rumble. ugh. Even just doing some of these things would’ve made this arc (imo) feel more... convincing and delicious

under the cut tho bc damn this is too long

In this essay I will—

Edgeshot??? EDGESHOT?? EDGESHOT?? i’M GOING TO GO OFF.

I swear to shit Edgeshot could’ve soloed the hospital but they had him at the PLF mansion for Some Reason like... like they didn’t make him run up on the League’s bar instead of the Nomu factory bc they knew he would take care of shit immediately. Make it make sense. If he was at the hospital eye just—Nomu in the way?? Doctor running off? Say less. Electric slide all the way in there Shinya. DID NO ONE SEE HOW EASILY HE HANDLED KUROGIRI? Did everyone just forget this man can pull a K.O in .3 seconds flat? Heroes didn’t think it might be a good idea to have him there, ready to give Shigaraki the paper cut of his life the second he woke up (if he even did bc my mans likely could’ve prevented the ‘doctor getting away>high-end awaken>rush to get shiggy out of the tank>shiggy wakes up’ chain of events)? Didn’t think to send him instead of this guy X Less just sitting there with That Look on his face?

I get they needed heroes like Edgeshot at the mansion to take out a handful of enemies in one go but COME ON NOW. There were more than enough long-range AOE heroes there. And even if you don’t wanna believe he could solo then STILL, EDGESHOT DUOING WITH MIRUKO, ANYBODY? If anyone was gonna keep up with her happy ass zooming into the lab it could’ve been him. We were robbed of an Edgeshot/Miruko teamup and I’m not okay. Could’ve had a sexy ass panel of the hospital-team hyping up Miruko and Edgeshot as they dashed to Ujiko’s lab, two fast as shit bad bitches, zooming through these Nomu, absolutely obliterating them at lightning speed, watching each other’s backs too, PROBABLY SAVING MIRUKO FROM BECOMING THE PRE-DEATH ORGAN DONOR THAT SHE IS NOW. I know it was hot watching Miruko take on these high-ends but I’d have rather Edgeshot share the spotlight if it meant Miruko was in one piece rn. Hori played her

Anyways the literal dumb bitch energy that went into not sending Edgeshot to the hospital is sending me. Could’ve at least let him just be on the team and on standby while Shigaraki was waking up. With those sharp as shit reflexes of his we’ve seen? Shigaraki would’ve been out like a fucking light the second Edgeshot saw him sit up. X-Less you had a nice thicc upper lip that lip was too shaded for you to die, but F in the chat bitch. Useless plot fodder I’m sorry X-Less. There isn’t a hero there right now (besides Aizawa but like... idk, plot is nerfing him) that could’ve incapacitated Shiggy so quickly and prevented the mess they’re in now like my guy Edgeshot could’ve. Feels like a cop out

In conclusion: Edgeshot sweety I’m sorry they did this. I’m sorry you were nerfed. I’m sorry they didn’t let you deliver Kamino Pizza to this hospital. I’m sorry they ignored you and now everyone’s gonna die bc they didn’t they respect your Ninpo rights

CEMENTOSS??? y’all sent him to fuck up the mansion FOR WHAT??? If I were the hero commission and thought :

“Dang we need to completely ass blast this huge PLF resort to make room for our heroes to run in... but it would also be good if we had someone to do that at the hospital too just in case things get tricky and we need to pave a quick way to Ujiko’s secret hideout... but I’m single-celled and can’t weigh my options logically so ok. Cementoss, to the mansion.”

...................... Ok but can I in interest you in PIXIE BOB? I get the mansion is huge but going by the shit we’ve seen her do?? I’m not about to underestimate ol’ girl. I know she could’ve fucked that place up if they let her, switched her out for Cementoss, who could’ve made THE EASIEST route for the hospital team to get into the secret lab, trapped Ujiko, also trapped a couple nomu/high-ends in cement while he was at it, rearranged some tunnels for optimal tactical movement, probably could’ve done a decent-fucking-job at slowing the onslaught of Decay too if it got to that point (AND IT MIGHT NOT HAVE BC THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS RANT IS TO INSIST THAT A BETTER SELECTION OF HEROES WOULDN’T HAVE RESULTED IN SHIGGY’S CURRENT THANOS SNAP ORdEAL)

I know Pixie’s mostly on rescue operations and that’s what she’s doing at the hospital/surrounding city but WHY?? EVEN IF THEY REALLY NEEDED CEMENTOSS AT THE MANSION—WHY NOT HAVE PIXIE BOB DOING SOMETHING IN THE ACTUAL HOSPITAL BATTLE? JUST A LITTLE? The hospital is built on uh.. oh yeah... EARTH? And considering in the Forest Training arc she was using her quirk from a remote location (to make that Earth golem, or whatever) she wouldn’t even HAVE to be IN Ujiko’s lab to be useful

Can y’all PLEASE put at least ONE of your terraforming heroes at the place where y’all REALLY need them?? And not after-the-fact like y’all just did with Pixie Bob? Because clearly she didn’t do shit this last chapter trying to stop Decay. I’m sorry girl. You may be dead. Terrible.

I would have legitimately sent Snipe to get Ujiko before I sent Miruko and that’s that on that. Where is he even? He was there during the briefing but he’s gone? MIA? Idk. No way Ujiko is getting away from those bullets. Target locked: Ujiko’s hand. Fire. High-end Nomu remote goes bye bye. Then another bullet in the leg. No need to worry about him escaping and waking up high-ends/Shiggy when he doesn’t have kneecaps. Problem solved. No way it would’ve taken that long to break Shiggy’s tank either with a few well-placed pew pews zigging around some Nomu (not that we really wanna break him outta his tank bc look what happened). Snipe’s 6/5 technique stat deserves better!!!!!

Gang Orca did not go off and give a bunch of kids brain damage during the License arc to be so thoroughly ignored here. He’s clearly about to get his shit rocked by some gauged-out ex-Hot Topic employee in the next few chapters and ugh you’re TOO GOOD FOR THAT ORCA. COULD’VE BEEN OF USE AT THE HOSPITAL. PARALYZING SONIC WAVES? WE’LL TAKE IT. Who knows if any of the high-end Nomu would’ve been affected by paralysis but the small fry? Probably. Shiggy’s little twink ass? I would bet on it. Not that it would really stop him from using Decay but still

At the risk of sounding like someone I know who endorses child labor (the hero commission) here me out: CAN I GET A UHHH JUZO HONENUKI??? AGAIN YEAH good that he was at the mansion to do some long-range AOE action but if y’all are gonna force kids to join in on this war anyways, put your strongest and most useful ones at the place you need them. Shit it would’ve been real nice if Honenuki was there to trap some Nomu—uncertain if it would work against the high-ends that show some pretty flexible quirks but who knows—and even at the risk of reaching, maybe in some universe where Shiggy and Honenuki face off, it would be interesting to see Decay against Softening, since Decay’s one big weakness is that it can only work on solid objects sooOooOo? Idk. Would’ve been a cool match up but I hate that the kids are fighting anyways so we’re gonna ignore this Juzo rant. Just know it would’ve been cool

And as for the mess that’s going to be this fucking mansion soon... .. We’re just gonna ignore a whole ass Geten, big destructive power, big fucking threat, and not gonna throw Endeavor’s ass in there? Makes sense. They’re leaving it to Shoto I guess. They said time for you to fucking shine kid. Get in there. I mean really trading Endeavor for Edgeshot would’ve been top tier strategy but...

I MEAN THEY?? Made up a whole ass plan to counter ONE greasy-looking PLF guy by throwing Kaminari in there, but they couldn’t make up a plan to counter Geten? Are they just?? Pulling names out of a hat to see who gets to fight who? Did they spin a bottle to see who it landed on? Did Mt. Lady pull the short stick? I swear on shit when Geten starts going feral soon I’m not gonna feel sorry about it. Unless heroes got a plan and someone’s gonna make a sexy ass top 10 anime entrances to counter his ice then I’m disappointed. We went ape shit over Kaminari countering one of the commanders but are we not gonna get anymore ‘I’m your perfect counter and I’m here to stop you’ moments? No? I’M PISSED.

I would have also settled for my kween Nejire being there to blast away some ice because who tf else is gonna do it? But eh.

Dabi will also be trouble depending on what he decides to do. He only has about 3 good ideas a month and he’s used them all up by now so he’s in dumb slut territory as we speak. But you’d think that a villain as widely recognized as Dabi with such a destructive quirk would urge the heroes to have some plan to take him on but?? So far I don’t really see anyone quick to take on the role. Not that it’d be that hard bc he’s dangerous but also dangerously dumb. Where is Inasa. Maybe he can just blast the flames back in Dabi’s face. I love him but at this point he deserves to have some of his rights taken away

Don’t even get me start on Gigantomachia. I get the heroes had little choice except to attack before Shiggy was full-power but just?? NOT having a plan in case by some little chance Gigantomachia DID wake up? You stupid bastards. You absolute fools. I guess there’s not much you CAN do but FUCK y’all just gonna let him SIT THERE? No counter measures? No ‘Let’s execute this incredibly thorough and thought-out plan we’ve spent months formulating to restrain Gigantomachia in case he does end up waking up, because better safe than sorry’? When he tramples like 50 students I bet that shit gonna hurt

I hate it all. I was really happy about seeing Shiggy go off 272 bc he’s a king but after rereading from like, 258 I feel... weird. Maybe this will be resolved with more chapters but. eh. Now that I’ve thought of this, I can’t go back. I miss the brain power that was behind the MLA fight

#bnha spoilers #bnha 272 #i'm mad #bnha #Why did I make this? It’s so dumb #i'm gonna wake up tomorrow and scream #they're 2d bro LMAOOOO #is htis a meta #meta #bnha meta

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