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wefoundloveunderthelight · 4 years ago

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Waterfall Memories by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 7/9

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx

Chapters titles are based on the lyrics from “Stubborn Love” by The Lumineers

Chapter 7: I Never Trusted My Own Eyes

The days came and went in a blur, busying themselves with mundane chores and simple meals spent dining by candlelight. Killian would tell her tales of the sea, his time as a Lieutenant in the Navy. Sometimes he would sing her a song, a soft melody that would make her heart flutter and her heart ache for a future with him. Each day the moisture would recede into the dirt, drying the roads and carrying them closer to the end of whatever it was they were doing.

And yet with each morning, there would be another excuse as to why it wasn’t a good idea for him to drive into town. Sometimes he would determine that the roads out of the forest were probably still too wet, other times she would tell him she felt too ill to be left alone. But they knew that eventually they would both run out of excuses. She could see it in his eyes each time he lied or made up a reason to stay. She knew they were living on borrowed time. Making memories that would soon be just that.

A memory of the past.

She was sure she would never forget the care he took with her or the way he pleasured her in their bed, his body claiming hers as she sang his name every night. For she was his. At least for the moment.

She’s sure the look of disappointment is heavy in her eyes when he announces suddenly that today is the day he needs to go to town. They are low on supplies since he had only purchased enough for one person. Feeding two of them had quickly eliminated his stock. He kissed her forehead, not making eye contact as he climbed into the truck, pulling away from the cabin before she could run out and beg him to stay. They had run out of time.

~*~

Killian didn’t look back as he pulled away from the cabin, leaving her behind. He knew if he saw her standing there in the doorway he would turn around and never leave her. He needed to do this, for her. He needed to find her home, where she belonged, who she belonged to.

They always knew this was temporary.

The roads were more than dry, he was aware he had delayed for many days, knowing that she had done the same. She was quick to make an excuse to keep him there, with her. But when he woke up, her fingers tangled in his chest hair, her blonde locks across his neck, his heart told him that he couldn’t delay any longer. She needed to go before he gave into his darkness and refused to allow her to leave. She wouldn’t become his hostage and he wouldn’t allow her to choose to live in his prison.

He reached the town, pulling into the parking spot in front of the store he frequented. He would go in, purchase his supplies, listen for any buzz about a missing woman, and if there was nothing, he would return home knowing that he tried. If nothing were to come of his trip, then maybe it was fate that she was to stay another month.

Gathering his supplies, he kept his head to the ground, not making eye contact with anyone in the store. He listened as they talked about their day, apparently a deer had caused some havoc at the town hall, stomping rose bushes and eating the honeysuckle trees. It was strange hearing such normal life going on around him, realizing that he had been enjoying his own mundane life back at the cabin with her. He approached the register, smiling at the woman who knew him as Rogers.

“You’re back sooner than usual.”

He nodded, “Aye, figured with the storm it was a good idea to stock up.”

“That was a big one. Glad the rains have finally stopped, maybe now they can resume that search.”

Killian’s heart stopped. “What are they searching for?”

“Some rich guy’s fiancé disappeared up here a few weeks ago. They dragged the lake but haven’t found her yet and then the storm hit. Been stuck for days just waiting it out. The whole family’s been holed up in the motel at the end of town. Sad. She’s probably dead.” She whispered at the end.

“Who’s the lass?” He questioned, trying to control the pitch of his voice. “The one who’s missing? You know in case I see anything near me.”

She pointed to the door, “Emma Nolan. Her pictures posted outside on the window.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open.” He said as he passed the money to the woman and gathered his bags. He tentatively approached the window, hoping that the picture was some other woman, not his Swan. But the moment he saw the flier, the blonde hair displayed with the large smile on her face, he knew it was her.

Emma Nolan, fiancé to Walsh Oz. She was getting married. The man in the photo stared back at him in a three-piece suit. He looked stuffy and obnoxious, and not the kind of man he imagined his Swan being in love with. He tried to feel shame for taking this man’s beloved, but in the moments when he was inside her, when she was staring at him like he was the most amazing man in the world, she was his Swan. Not this Nolan woman.

“Sad tale.” He jumped at the voice behind him, turning to see the Sheriff approaching him. “Beautiful woman on a weekend trip with friends falls over the old waterfall and disappears without a trace.”

“I heard.” He offered flatly. “Sad indeed.”

“You wouldn’t have seen anything down your way, would you? We haven’t been able to reach your neck of the woods due to the storm. Perhaps you’ve noticed something?”

“Wish I could say I had.” He lied. “But I’ll keep my eyes opened.”

“It would be a shame if that woman’s family didn’t get her home to marry her husband. He has a lot of money he’s paying this town to find her. I’m sure she comes with a hefty reward.”

“As I said, I’ll keep my eyes opened.”

The Sheriff turned away from him, “We’ll be by your place soon, for the search.” He warned and Killian sighed. Time’s up.

He ripped the flyer off the window, pocketing it as he returned to his truck. Depositing his groceries in the back he climbed into the front seat and pulled the flyer from his pocket. “Dammit.” He cursed. The photo of her was a happy one. She appeared to be out for the evening, a bright smile across her face. The photo of her parents portrayed a loving couple, who were most likely going mad without their daughter.

One good deed, he thought.

~*~

Emma swore she wasn’t checking the road when she passed the window. She told herself she wasn’t waiting anxiously for him to return home. But she knew she was. She wanted to know what he had found, hoping that his search was fruitless, and he would return to tell her that they would search again in a month. She wanted nothing more than to stay here in their happy little fairytale. She didn’t need to know who she was. She was happy here. She could be happy here.

She knew it was her fear of the unknown. What if she had a life that wasn’t all she had wished for. He had found her in some trashy lingerie, naked and alone. Not knowing, not being able to piece together the puzzle was frustrating to her, it was part of the reason she gave up trying to remember. It made her angry to be so close to seeing a vision of her past only to have it disappear in a haze of nothing.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to know her name. She had come up with all kinds of names for herself. She thought she might be happy being called Evelyn or Elizabeth. Maybe she’d even learn to love her new name more than whatever her own was.

She heard the truck door slam shut and she hopped to the window, watching as Killian gathered the bags from the back of the truck. He had a frown on his face which gave her pause. When he opened the door, she stared at him anxiously. “How was town?”

“I found everything on the list.” He said, ignoring her question. He set the bags on the table, and she walked over to them, taking things out to help him put them away. She reached in and pulled out the bread and a handful of cheese slices packed in a plastic sleeve. He knew how much she loved grilled cheese. She found additional cocoa and a packet of cinnamon at the bottom of the bag; she couldn’t stop the smile from creeping on her face.

“I was thinking I’d make grilled cheese for lunch.” He said softly.

“That sounds lovely.” She felt like skipping to the cold box to store the food but stopped when he spoke.

“Emma…” She turned to face him, unsure why the name fell from his lips.

“Excuse me?” She asked confused.

“Emma Nolan.” He said as he shoulders slumped. “That’s your name.”

“Of course, it’s not. I don’t recognize it at all.” She turned back to the food, depositing the items in their places.

“Well, it is. I’ve seen the photo.”

“Well, I don’t care, I don’t know that name, so you’re wrong.” She was agitated, angry at him for not listening to her.

He fished into his pocket, yanking a crumpled paper out of his pants, and unraveling it near her face. “That’s you. Emma Nolan. And that’s your parents, David and Mary Margaret.” He paused. “This is your fiancé, Walsh Oz.”

She tore the paper from his hands. “Walsh Oz, what a ridiculous name, there is no way I would marry someone with the last name Oz, it’s too…” She shook her head staring at the photos in front of her. She didn’t recognize the people on the flyer, only her face. The people who were supposed to be her parents might as well have been anyone else on the planet. Imposters. The man, Walsh, she was sure there was no way she would marry a man who looked like that. This wasn’t her life, it couldn’t be. She tossed the paper onto the table.

“I don’t believe you. I don’t care what that says.” The tears welled up in her eyes and she hopped to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her, and throwing herself on the bed.

“Swan, I’m coming in.” His voice was shaky, uneven, almost like he was ready to break as much as she had. The door opened and she looked up from the bed.

“Don’t call me Emma.” She warned.

“Fine. But we need to talk.” He sat on the bed, taking her hand. “I called them.”

“What?” She yelled, yanking her hand away from him. “Why? Why would you do that without talking to me?”

“Em…Love, they are your parents. They have a right to know that you aren’t dead. They were very worried about you.”

“It wasn’t your decision.” She cried.

“You were on a trip. A lovely trip with your best friends, I believe it was a girl’s trip before your wedding. You were supposed to have gotten married the weekend you disappeared.”

“Emma Oz.” She blurted out. “It’s preposterous.”

He reached for her hand again. “I told them I would bring you to them this evening. Once I had the chance to talk to you, to prepare you. They know you don’t have your memories.”

“I don’t want to go.” She cried, leaning into his neck, and sobbing against his collar. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Emma, I wish to tell you something. Something that I believe will help your decision to return to where you belong.”

~*~

She sat up, staring into his uneasy blue eyes, he wiped the tears from the corner of her lids, kissing her forehead before turning away from her. “I’ve told you that I have done things in my life that I’m not proud of. I was not a good man, Emma.” He gulped. “Years ago, after I left the Navy, I found myself struggling to make ends meet for my wife and baby daughter, Alice. We were living in a bad neighborhood, Milah was getting hassled by some of our neighbors, men who were not the sort who backed down when confronted.” He stood up from the bed, pacing in front of the window.

“My brother always told me I was stubborn, that I didn’t listen to reason. He was right of course, and because of that, because I didn’t listen to him, I lost everything.”

“The explosion?”

“It was more than that. I bought a gun, I stood up to these men, told them to leave the neighborhood. They did for a time. And then I met a man, Neal Cassidy. His father was the head of the Gold Mafia. He had heard about the stand I took with the men in our apartment. They were from a rival gang that his father was looking to snuff out. He offered me some jobs. His father paid me well. It started off simple, a few snatch and grab’s, small time theft. But I didn’t realize that the further I went, the more I was getting into the dirty side of their business.”

He felt his chest contracting with each word. Afraid to carry on but knowing that she needed to hear the truth, she needed to understand why it was better for her to go. To get as far away from him as possible.

“I tried to get out, God knows Milah begged me. But I was suddenly bringing in money, I was able to provide for my family and it felt good to be that man. Then Gold picked me to go on a job with his son. No one was supposed to get hurt. That was my rule, I would take things, but I never hurt people. But Neal, he operated differently. He didn’t let anyone get in his way. And on this night, someone fought back, they wouldn’t give up the treasure we had come to seek. I walked away, but Neal, he shot the man.”

“Oh my God.” Emma’s hand went to her mouth, and he turned away from her before he could see the disappointment in her eyes.

“The man died; he was supposed to be alone. Neal told me he had no one with him. The boy came out of his bedroom, he couldn’t have been older than 6. He was crying, calling for his father. I told Neal we needed to leave, but he said we couldn’t leave any witnesses. The moment he pointed his gun at that boy’s head, something inside me snapped. I shot Neal.”

“You didn’t have a choice.” She said, her voice wavering.

“I killed him, Emma. In cold blood. I murdered Neal Cassidy and left him there. I called 9-1-1 and ran.”

“What does this have to do with the explosion?”

“When Gold found out about Neal, he knew I was the one on the job with him. It didn’t take long for his goons to find me, they roughed me up, wanted me to admit I was the one who killed Neal. I refused. And then Gold threatened my family.”

“Oh Killian.”

“I thought if I talked that he’d just kill me and move on. But instead, he wanted me to suffer.” He bowed his head. “He followed my brother one evening, shot him in the head and left him in an alley to bleed out. He called me on the phone, told me that I still had time to save him. I raced to the location, even found him, he was dying, unconscious. When my phone rang, I heard his voice. He was laughing, he told me that I would feel the same pain he did. My blood ran cold, as soon as the ambulance arrived, I raced home only to find the cops waiting, fire burning outside my building. They were already gone.”

He leaned against the wall, daring to glance at her. “I turned state’s evidence on Gold. In exchange for my testimony, I only had to serve a 5-year sentence and I then was free.”

She stood up and walked toward him. “Killian, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t give me your pity. I don’t deserve your sorrow. I deserve what happened to me. But you don’t deserve to be trapped in my pain. You have a home, a life. You look happy in that photo. You’ll find that again. Once you go back, you’ll remember who you are.”

“I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to be this Emma Nolan or Oz or whatever they expect me to be. I’m not her. I want to be with you.”

He sighed, pulling her into his arms. “Swan. You can’t stay. You don’t belong here.”

“You don’t want me.” She sobbed and his heart broke.

“Look at me.” He hooked his finger under her chin, pulling her tear-soaked face toward him. “I never thought I'd be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah... to believe that I could find someone else... that is, until I met you.” He kissed the bridge of her nose, peppering soft touches across her cheek until he brushed against her lips, kissing her mouth. He felt his knees threatening to buckle under him, the weight of the moment pulling him under. “But alas, it was but a dream. And with all dreams, you have to wake up.” He whispered.

“I don’t even know them.”

“But you will.”

“You’ll go with me?”

“Aye.” He said sadly, reveling in the fact that she needed him with her, but knowing he would have to leave her all the same. He pulled away from her, walking to the dresser to pull out new clothes for her to wear. Setting them on the bed and patting them with his hand. “You can keep these until you get something more acceptable that fit you.”

He tried to smile in her direction as his heart broke into a million pieces.

“For the record, you’re still my hero. I don’t care how much you want me to believe otherwise, what you did is your past, and I am going to choose to see the good in you.” She took her clothes and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her as he dropped to his knees and cried.

#stacy's fics #waterfall memories #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan modern au

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dogbearinggifts · 6 years ago

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“Dad Sent Me to the Moon” vs. “Because Dad Made Me”

How Luther and Vanya Talk About Trauma, Part Four

This is the fourth installment of my series examining how Luther and Vanya address their own trauma and respond to the trauma of others. My goal is to look at each significant mention of Luther’s time on the Moon/ his forcible mutation and Vanya’s exclusion, compare and contrast, and see how these instances line up with the common fandom perception of these characters.

If this is the first time you’re seeing this series on your dash, I’d definitely recommend starting with previous installments.

Part One Part Two Part Three

Episode 5: Number Five (aka The One That Made the Fandom Look at Klaus and Say “Somebody Give Him a Hug”)

Our first trauma mention of this episode comes when Luther and Five sit in Diego’s apartment. This mention is a little tricky, because, while Five does indeed mention the trauma of losing his siblings, the conversation is focused on how that future might be avoided, what Five has tried so far, and why it hasn’t worked. Nevertheless, I’m including it, because I feel it gives insight into how Luther handles the trauma of others.

Luther: When’s it supposed to happen? This…apocalypse? Five: Well, I can’t give you the exact hour, but from what I could gather, we have four days left. Luther: Why didn’t you say something sooner? Five: It wouldn’t have mattered. Luther: Of course it would. We could’ve banded together and helped you try to stop this thing! Five: For the record, you already tried. Luther: What do you mean? Five: I found all of you. Your bodies. Luther: We die? Five: Horribly. You were together, trying to stop whoever it is that ends the world. Luther: How do you know that? Five hands Luther the glass eye he’s been carrying. Five: This was clutched in your dead hand when I found you. You ripped it out of their head right before you went down. Luther: Whose head? Five: Like I said, I don’t know. Luther: Well, there’s a serial number on the back. Think maybe you can track it— Five: That’s a dead end. It’s just another hunk of glass.

This is not the first time Five has shared his trauma with another sibling. In the second episode, he explains to Vanya how he got stuck in the apocalypse, all the awful degrading things he did to try and survive, and why he couldn’t come back. Vanya invalidated his trauma—though as I pointed out then, I don’t think she did so intentionally or maliciously, and she apologized after.

Here, we see Luther giving a very different reaction: unquestioning acceptance. He doesn’t ask Five to fill in any plot holes he saw; he doesn’t let on that he thinks the whole thing is unbelievable. I don’t point this out to bring Vanya down or show how awful she is, because I don’t think that’s what we’re seeing. Rather, we see that Luther is far more inclined to believe doomsday predictions, which was a prominent factor in why he didn’t question Reginald’s choice to send him to the Moon. He went because he thought the world needed him. Dad always said the apocalypse was coming, so of course he was needed on the Moon to watch for threats. Now that Five is back from the future with a tale of an apocalypse that, to him, already happened, Luther’s only question is “How do we stop this thing?”

Now, it’s worth noting that finding a solution to Five’s problem—preventing the apocalypse—directly benefits Luther. If he can help Five prevent the apocalypse, then he will not die horribly. So Luther isn’t quite helping Five out of nothing more than the goodness of his heart.

However, this exchange establishes an interesting reversal from how he handled Allison’s trauma. When she told him all the awful details of her divorce and how she might lose custody of her daughter, Luther simply listened, offered a bit of encouragement, and didn’t downplay her trauma at all. Here, with Five, he attempts to solve the problem. These are two very different situations, calling for two very different approaches, and it appears Luther is well aware of that. He also seems to be aware of the fact that his advice and input are not always needed or welcome, or appropriate for all situations. Here, there is a problem to be solved, and Luther attempts to solve it. Allison only needed a sympathetic ear, and that was what Luther offered.

**********

Later, when Allison pays a visit to Vanya’s apartment, Leonard enters the conversation.

Allison: Well, how well do you know him? Vanya: Enough to get breakfast, if that’s what you’re asking. Allison: It’s just that after yesterday, I don’t….I have a bad feeling. Vanya: Allison, I haven’t seen you in twelve years, and all of a sudden you’re giving me dating advice? Allison: I’m still your sister, and I’m concerned about you—and him. Vanya: What are you concerned about? Allison: Leonard seems perfectly charming, perfectly thoughtful—perfect, really. But I’ve been around long enough to know that when something seems to perfect, it’s usually anything but. Vanya: Like a woman who’s based her whole life on rumors? Some people actually mean what they say.

Now, you can make the argument that Vanya is unaware of just how deeply the divorce is affecting Allison. Her sister has, after all, remained somewhat tight-lipped about it around her siblings; the only one she openly shares all details with is Luther, and she does so in private. However, I’d argue that Vanya is well aware of just how devastating this divorce is for Allison. She’s heard the tension and trembling in her sister’s voice as she begs to speak to her daughter. She’s seen just how upset the refusal made her.

In addition to that, Vanya has surely read the tabloids, or at least skimmed the covers at newsstands. We see in an earlier scene that these magazines are painting Patrick and Claire as the victims and Allison as the villain, if the title “We’re Doing Fine!” accompanied by a picture of father and daughter smiling with a smaller inset of Allison is any indication. If Vanya read any of these stories, she would have known the person behind the headlines. She would have been able to imagine her sister reacting to all of this press coverage, imagine what things were like behind the scenes. No, she and Allison weren’t the closest growing up—but Allison was her sister. Vanya might not have known her as well as siblings in healthy families know each other, but she knew her better than those tabloids do. Allison wasn’t just a character in some ongoing tabloid drama; Vanya would have known her as a person with hopes and dreams and struggles and everything else.

And here she is, turning all of that trauma into a verbal jab meant to knock Allison off her feet so Vanya can continue doing what she likes without interference.

Yes, Vanya is an adult; and yes, she is free to choose her partner without input from her family. She is free to tell Allison to keep her thoughts to herself. But Vanya could have said as much without bringing Allison’s painful divorce into it. Like so:

“Allison, I’m fine. Leonard treats me well. If he starts acting creepy, I’ll come and ask you for advice, okay?” “Look, Allison, I know you’ve had some bad experiences with guys in the past, but you’re famous. I’m not. I don’t see any reason why he’d want to get closer to me other than the fact he’s genuinely interested.” “I’ve only known him a couple of days. There’s plenty of time for me to learn how imperfect he is.” “C’mon, sis. This is the first guy I’ve met who makes me feel like a star. Give him a chance?”

Point is, Vanya didn’t have to take Allison’s advice; but she didn’t have to bring up Allison’s painful divorce with a smile, either.

*******

Shortly after, Allison takes her research on Leonard to Vanya’s apartment in another attempt to get Vanya to hear her concerns.

Vanya: You are unbelievable! You’re trying to dig up dirt on a guy I like? Who does that? Allison: Look, I’ve had my fair share of stalkers and creeps. I don’t trust him. Vanya: You mean you don’t trust me. Allison: What? No! That’s— Vanya: This is not about you. And for the first time, someone thinks I’m special. Allison: I’m just worried about you. Vanya: Well, you’re not my mother. Worry about your own daughter. Allison: That’s not fair.

First off, Vanya’s frustration and anger are definitely understandable. I don’t necessarily agree with her*, but I can see where she’s coming from: She’s worked hard to build a life for herself, and she works hard to maintain it. This is the first guy she’s met who hasn’t treated her like a pale imitation of her more famous siblings, she’s happy, and she’s feeling the full depth of emotion for the first time since she was four. Whatever Allison has to say will hit her twice as hard, and since she’s not aware that her medication had been dampening her emotions, she probably has no idea that she’s going to be a little volatile.

That said….I honestly have a hard time sympathizing with her in this scene.

Once again, we see her bringing up Allison’s trauma; and once again, we see her using it as a means to try and get Allison to leave her alone. If Vanya displayed a thicker skin around her siblings, I could excuse this by saying that she just expects everyone to be as tough as she is; but that isn’t the case. In the first episode, we see how hard she takes Diego’s “You don’t belong here” remark. In this very scene, we see her taking well-intentioned (if intrusive) concern on Allison’s part as a personal insult (”You mean you don’t trust me”) twisting the narrative to make it seem Allison has self-centered motives (”This is not about you”) and finally reminding Allison of the ongoing custody battle as a means of shutting down a conversation she doesn’t like (”Worry about your own daughter”).

There was no need whatsoever for Vanya to bring Claire into this. Had Vanya left it at “You’re not my mother,” that would have gotten the point across just as well. “Worry about your own daughter” was a cheap shot meant to give Vanya the upper hand, and it worked. Vanya wins this round, using the most underhanded tactic available to her.

And again, I understand she’s upset. I understand she wants to be left alone, and I understand she’s dealing with strong emotions she’s never felt before. I understand that Leonard has been reminding her at every turn that her siblings didn’t treat her right while they were growing up. Her remark was still unnecessary because, as in the previous example, there are other ways Vanya could have gotten her point across.

*******

Later, as Five and Luther wait for Hazel and Cha-Cha, Five brings up his time with the Commission.

Five. You know, I never enjoyed it. Luther: What? Five: The killing. I was good at my work, and I took pride in it, but it never gave me pleasure. I think it was all those years alone. Solitude can do funny things to the mind. Luther: Well, you were gone for such a long time. I only spent four years on the Moon, but that was more than enough. It’s the being alone that breaks you.

I’ve seen some fans point to this scene (and others, but more on that later) as yet another example of how Luther’s constant whining about the Moon causes him to ignore his siblings’ trauma. Which is odd, because in this scene, Luther does almost the exact opposite of what these fans accuse him of.

Yes, he does bring up the Moon without being explicitly prompted; and yes, he does respond to Five’s trauma with a comment about his own. However, he does not bring up the Moon apropos of nothing. When Five says “Solitude can do funny things to the mind,” it reminds Luther of how he spent four years with zero human contact in a sealed vacuum out on an airless hunk of rock careening through the void, so he contributes that to the conversation.

More importantly, Luther’s mention of his time on the Moon is used not to invalidate Five, but to validate him. Pay attention to the wording here: “I only spent four years on the Moon, but that was more than enough.” He’s aware that Five spent upwards of 30 years wandering a post-apocalyptic wasteland, and he remembers how difficult those four years on the Moon were. With that line, Luther compares his four years on the Moon to Five’s 30-plus years as the last man on Earth and acknowledges that Five had it worse. Here, he seems to be admitting that he would not have been able to handle over three decades of pure solitude.

Furthermore, his next line, “It’s the being alone that breaks you,” is an attempt to commiserate with Five—similar to how Vanya commiserated with Leonard earlier. Luther isn’t saying, “dAd SenT mE 2 tH mOOn aNd i HaD iT woRSe sO ShUt UP”; he’s saying, “Yeah, man, I get it. I was alone with no way out and no idea why I was there, and I was only on the Moon for four years. I don’t know how you lasted as long as you did.”

Another, smaller thing of note: This is the first time we see Luther addressing his time on the Moon as a negative experience. Up to this point, he has either spoken of it fairly positively or neutrally. This conversation with Five, where he compares those four years to Five’s time in the apocalypse, is the first instance where Luther hints that his time on the Moon was actually very difficult to cope with. “It’s the being alone that breaks you” paints a far, far less rosy picture of the Moon than, “In those moments, when my entire world turned to white glass, I felt like I was meant to be there.”

**********

Running count of trauma mentions (cumulative of all episodes thus far)

Own Trauma: Vanya 4, Luther 4 Trauma of Others: Vanya 3, Luther 3

*Let’s just say I was encouraged to get into and stay in a bad relationship. When I later broke it off, the same people who encouraged me to ignore my own misgivings told me that they’d suspected there was something wrong with my partner from the beginning. Gee, thanks. Couldn’t have used that advice before everything went sour.

Read on to Part Five

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by-nina · 6 years ago

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No Promises

Royai Week 2019 | Day 7 – Picture prompt; couple at sunset Rating: K+ Genre: Romance/Fluff Word Count: 2,140

She drinks the rest of her champagne, not noticing the way Roy has paused to stare at her. Riza quietly resumes watching the view.

Roy hardly recognizes himself in the mirror. It isn’t the handsome black military uniform that he wears in place of his regular one, though it’s true that he hasn’t brought it out for many occasions. It isn’t the freshly shaven look he hasn’t worn for a while—but it is the thinly veiled nervousness on his face that makes all the difference, breaking what he supposes should be the composure of a man giving his daughter away on her wedding day.

The door opens behind him, and he comes back to his senses—the primary realization being that it isn’t his own daughter he is walking down the aisle today. Gracia Hughes enters the room, smiling at him, kind and pitying and amused at the same time.

“Are you all right, Roy? You must be sweating in your suit.”

He lets out something between a laugh and a deep breath. “I’m all right. Thank you, Gracia. How’s everything outside? Is there anything I need to help out with?”

Gracia laughs. “Everything’s under control, no need to worry. Besides, you’re already doing more than enough for Elicia just by being here today.” Her expression turns softer. “It means so much to me, too. Maes would have been extremely happy and grateful.”

Falling into their sentimental thoughts, they look out through the large window of Roy’s rented room, which overlooks the garden where the ceremony is to take place. In the mid-afternoon sun, the decorations are a beautiful tapestry of pastels against a canvas of rich, textured green. Soft white cloths are draped around rows of gold-colored garden chairs and the round shrubs dotting the aisle. At the end of it, an intricately carved gazebo serves as the altar, ringed out with flowers and strings of twinkling lights.

“I still can’t believe that I’m walking Elicia down the aisle,” Roy says quietly. “It should have been him.”

She sighs, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him. But missing him and keeping him in our thoughts is the most we can do, nothing more. Maes doesn’t dwell on the past, and he wouldn’t want us to do that.” Her grip turns firm, encouraging. “And you owe the same to your own life.”

He’s heard that tone before—that purposeful, knowing tone she uses when she speaks to him as her own friend rather than one she’d met through her husband, as she has increasingly done in recent years. It must be due to the occasion that she’s chosen to remind him of this again, but he’d be damned if he didn’t want to agree with her—that it had been so long, that he had gone through so much by this point in their lives that there must be more for him, finally, than the single-minded goal of becoming Führer.

Right as he’s entertaining the tempting thought, the door opens once again. This time, a different kind of emotion fills him with Elicia’s arrival. She saunters inside in a billowing, iridescent white dress that gives her the appearance of floating on a cloud, kept on the ground by the small, colorful flowers that adorn her hair at the base of her veil. Never in a million years would Roy have imagined the small, adorable child in an endless array of wallet pictures growing up into this lovely young woman, and it’s as if he’s been punched in the gut. Roy wonders if it’s simply nostalgia that makes his eyes mist, or more an effect of seeing someone in a wedding dress.

“Uncle Roy!” she beams, reaching out and throwing her arms around his neck; he catches her, smiling widely himself. “You look great!”

“What are you talking about, Elicia, look at you!” Roy allows her to step back, and she exchanges a smile with her mother. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t had his breath knocked out of him yet. “Shouldn’t you be with your bridesmaids? The wedding will start anytime soon.”

“It’s not going anywhere, is it? There’s something I need to take care of first.”

“You know, whatever it is, I can take care of it for you.”

Elicia’s grin changes. For a second, Roy swears that he can see his best friend’s devilish smiling face beneath hers. What the hell, Maes.

“Oh, I’m definitely leaving it to you. Mom, could you give us a minute alone?”

“Of course. I’ll see you outside, honey.”

Gracia and Elicia kiss each other on the cheek, and the older woman nods at Roy over her shoulder. Once the door closes behind her, Elicia crosses her arms, and her expression turns smug. He knows that look, too; it’s the look she had used on him so often as a teenager, not entirely rebellious but indeed headstrong. Like he’s always done, he mirrors her pose affectionately.

“All right, kid. What do you want?”

She shakes her head as if he’d asked the most obvious question in the world. “Uncle Roy, isn’t this strange to you? It’s been so long. I’m twenty-three years old, and in a few minutes I’ll be married to a man I fell in love with five years ago. What’s keeping you from doing the same thing?”

Roy laughs nervously and looks away. “What—what are you talking about, Elicia? This really isn’t the time for—”

“No, it’s definitely the time for this. She’s here today, too. I want my wedding day to be as happy for everyone as it is for me. You both deserve it.”

“Elicia.” He casts his eyes down. Roy would be bewildered that he’s being lectured by his best friend’s young daughter, of all people, if the question hadn’t been so piercingly personal. Instead, he’s left with a lonely sense of longing that has no business being this potent, after having been pushed down and away for so long. He sighs. “Listen. This isn’t as simple as choosing to spend the rest of your life with someone who makes you happy. If I could do that—if I’d had the chance or right to do that, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat. But there are greater things than that for people like—people like us. Things that must come before people like us. And if putting those things first is what it takes for other people to love, and be happy, and be free, then it’s the price we’ll pay.”

Elicia’s smile has faded. At first, Roy thinks that he has convinced her to see things the way he does, but she is Maes’ daughter, after all. He looks more closely at her face: he finds no sympathy there, only incredulousness.

“You say ‘people like us’ as if Dad didn’t serve with you before he married Mom.” She sighs. “I’ve known you and Aunt Riza all my life. You two have devoted more than a lifetime to serving our country, even before you became Führer. You can only do so much on your own, but you’ve always worked beyond your own capacity and inspired your men to do the same. How can you still think you don’t deserve each other?” Smiling fondly, she adds, “And besides, I don’t think I’ve heard a lot of people talk like that about someone they love. You really don’t hear yourself, do you?”

Roy bites his lip, looking everywhere around the room except straight at Elicia, whose knowing look he knows will completely win him over. “You don’t think it’s too late for us?”

“You’ve been with each other through your worst, and you still have each other after all this time. No time could possibly be too late for the two of you.”

The clock strikes five. From his window, they can see the sun begin to set and the sky turn into a breathtaking golden color. He has always thought of Riza under a sky like this, and he thinks of all the sunsets that will pass him by for the rest of his life. He cannot know how many there will be, but he knows he will wait for each one.

Elicia smiles and takes Roy by the elbow, and he lets her lead him out to the garden.

The sunset is perhaps the least of all the beautiful things that afternoon. Tears begin to fall the moment Elicia appears at the end of the aisle; she has a glow like the sun itself, and guests wonder in awe where all the years have gone. Roy trembles a little as he leads Elicia to the altar, but he keeps himself together for her and for her father, who might rise from the grave and come for him if he were to mess up. Once the walk has been completed and she has joined her husband-to-be, Major Robert Weiss, the sunlight catches them in just the right places. They look at each other in a way that creates a world all their own, that no one watching behind them could describe.

The ceremony and the immediately succeeding reception turn everyone fondly nostalgic, but none more so than Elicia’s older guests. They are mostly comprised of Maes’ friends from the military, and so the Elrics, Roy’s closest colleagues, Major General Armstrong and his men, and a few others lose themselves in a sea of his memories over glasses of champagne. They talk about how Maes Hughes had always been the biggest hearted man of them all, who wanted nothing more for anyone than to find love. They talk about their loved ones—families they’ve formed, people they’ve met and lost, people who have been with them all their lives.

They talk, and talk, and talk, and Riza soon finds herself entranced by the view of the landscape below, beneath a still warm-colored horizon that fades into a starry patch of light blue sky. She broke away from the group when talk came of grand romantic moments and lovestruck highs. She thinks of love, and she’s unable to see it as anything other than a warm, unassuming place in her chest that comes in moments she can never predict. Riza smiles and tips back her glass. Maybe all she needs to sort her thoughts is more champagne.

Before any other sound comes, she hears a few soft footfalls, carefully placed so they make that nice, full sound of leather soles, and she knows only Roy Mustang could be approaching her. Standing next to her, he leans on his elbows against the balustrade. “How’s the view out here?”

“A welcome change from being in the middle of all those buildings in Central.”

“It’s a lot like your old home, isn’t it?”

She may have misjudged herself. There is a small, pleasant twinge in the middle of the warmth that begins to fill her chest. “I’ve seen a lot that are close. But it’s nothing like the experience of actually living in the countryside.”

Roy smiles fondly. “I know. I still remember the fresh air and the spring water.”

“And people calling you to their homes out of nowhere for tea and freshly baked bread.”

“Oh, I miss the bread from the town! I remember being late for some of my alchemy lessons back then because I’d sneak out for bread.”

Riza laughs as a few faint memories of such instances come to mind. She never expected to look back on them so fondly. “So that’s why! Father would get so mad about that quickly. But I’d always shut him out when he’d talk about it. It got so petty.”

She drinks the rest of her champagne, not noticing the way Roy has paused to stare at her. Riza quietly resumes watching the view.

“Hey,” he says softly.

Their eyes meet, and the warm feeling in her chest grows. It comes with thoughts of coffee in the middle of long working nights and hungover mornings after waking up; of long drives, during which they talk more easily and about more things than they do in anyone else’s presence; of shared umbrellas in the rain and jointly caring for Hayate and years and years of knowing each other through fire and never wavering in their belief in each other.

He breaks away from her gaze, but not before she sees these same thoughts in his eyes as well. Roy stares at the mountains fading into the dark horizon. The wind picks up; she leans towards him in search of warmth.

“What do you think, Riza? About moving to your hometown after retiring.”

His voice quivers at her name. Riza smiles; it will take some time for her to get used to the way he says it, or for her to even say his. She settles for a contented sigh.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

It feels like the easiest thing in the world.

#Royai Week #Royai Week 2019 #RoyaiWeek19 #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #Royai #Gracia Hughes #Elicia Hughes #Fullmetal Alchemist #Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood #FMA #FMAB #Day 7 - Picture prompt; couple at sunset #fanfiction #fanfic #romance #fluff #writing #written by nina

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kurtty-drabbles · 6 years ago

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Amalgaverse au(part 3?)

N/A: The Bloody Mary I take some liberties here and I did base on this video here.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling

Based on this video

There´s a method to my madness- a fitting quote

At first, Kitty Pryde was really at loss at how to work in the TV studio, especially in the show "You're wrong" but Kitty Pryde is nothing if determined and intelligent and soon enough gets the ropes that the job demands.

And in a few days Kitty didn´t seem so clueless after all, well...sometimes the interns mention the funny things Kitty says but would automatically assume she is telling jokes.

Kurt Ryder has to admire her tenacity and how she is a fast learner and is adjusting without many hitchers in the ride.

"Katzchen" Kurt Ryder let slip the nickname Nightcreeper always refers to Constantine and gives an excuse that she resembles a cat too much, this makes Kitty, which is quite is ironic as Kitty is not a cat person at all. "I´m sorry, it slips from my mind, you´re right," Kurt can´t help by gently poking fun at the obvious lie Kitty told " is not the time to think or talk about cats and people, I want to ask how are you dealing with your new job"

"Oh, I did have some bumps and tribulations, but, in the end, I think I´m getting the gist of all this" then she remembers of ''you´re right'' and amends the lie "I mean, is totally different from Canada, but, I´m alright"

Kurt Ryder hums in agreement.

"Well, you´re indeed a faster learner, I´m impressed, I want to talk to you about the new job now that you´re familiar with how things are done in New Gotham, are you interested in a promotion?" Kurt Ryder speaks and Kitty is now chewing her bottom lip.

"Look, I´m not all naive to not know some gossips people are doing behind my back, I get the job too quickly" Kitty closes her eyes and let an exasperated sound leaves her mouth "and sure if I get a promotion right away it will cement this believe" Kitty explained and Kurt Ryder nods again.

"I´m a professional, Miss Pryde, I understand that this type of thing exist and sadly even in this company, but, I tend to be impartial in my job and in cases like this, if I said you are cable of doing this job is because I know you´re cable...after all, I´m right" Kurt jests a little but the sincerity is too strong to let the mock words to overcome.

Kitty is surprised by his words and offers a small smile.

"I have to make up my mind now?" Kitty is tapping her foot now and the sounds of her heels are all synchronized.

"No, take your time, is your decision after all" Kurt speaks in a nicer tone and this makes the tapping finally ceased. "But, can I ask something? how are you living in this city? last time I check you got lost easily, are you making friends here?"

Kitty can´t help to chuckle at this. The rumours about Kurt Ryder aren´t totally true(or at least only refers to his guests)

"You talk like a concerned professor or something, well, rest assured, no one is bullying me...aside from rumours that I´m sleeping to get to the top, I´m alright, in fact, I manage to make a friend"Kitty then makes a face for a moment "he´s a bit crazy but he is helping to navigate through New Gotham" then she blushes remembering what her so-called friend was wearing last night, Nick Minaj would be proud someone was copying her famous pose.

Kurt Ryder smiles at that.

"I´m glad, Logan was here the other day, oh, Logan Wayne, the billionaire, anyway, when he heard you´re from Canada the man insist to make sure you´re alright, after all, there´s little Canadians in this city"

Kitty smiles at that.

"I´m fine, I promised, now, let´s end the conversation before it gets creepy" Kitty speaks and Kurt laughs a bit and agrees with her. -------------------------- Constantine received clues about magic activities from many sources and 50% of the time is a crazy guy in a suit playing Scoob Doo in an extreme fashion, however, on the other hand, she has a serious case of Bloody Mary to deal and is a great opportunity for Nightcreeper to see what the Occult world is.

"The sorority Beta Gi, gee, what´s up with those names?" Kitty asked looking at the house of 2 floors in total decay, it used to be one of the best sorority houses until a month ago when an incident changes everything. "Anyway, Are you ready Creepy?" Kitty asked with her "uniform" and her identity safely protected now looks at her crazy friend who is jumping and avoid to step into a fend on the floor.

"Creepy?" Kitty asked as now the man stops and look at the house and using his boa to hide, in the best of the boa´s ability, himself.

"Do we have to go where Bloody Mary is?" Nightcreeper asked remembering all the stories about Bloody Mary.

"Yes, is my job to deal with entities as Bloody Mary, are you afraid?" Kitty asked and the lunatic nods his head looking at the windows as expecting the crazy woman to jump out and kill them.

"Murderous ghost are a big no to me" Nightcreeper speaks then look at her "But I want to help you, I know, you´re right, you´re the powerful guardian, and I´m a hero and I should fight murderous ghosts, sounds cool when I speak out loud, but Katzchen, is Murderous ghosts" Nightcreeper continue to ramble and Kitty put a finger on his mouth as his golden eyes are practically screaming how this is scary for him.

"You don´t have to do anything you aren't comfortable, I´m used to dealing with those things, but, you are here already, you wanted to be my crazy sidekick" Kitty speaks and Nightcreeper pipes in he´s not a sidekick and Kitty chuckles a little "So, take a deep breath and think, do I want to do this? If you want to stay here, is no shame, whatever you choose is your chose"

Eventually, Nightcreeper prefers to go with Kitty to see how she can deal with Bloody Mary and how to defend himself against such an evil entity. Kitty briefs him about the situation.

"Ryder make a post on his blog about this place, well, the man exaggerated some things about Bloody Mary, but other than that, he was right on the spot"Nightcreeper would beam at this if they weren´t ready to face the entity.

"Oh, what did he got right?" Nightcreeper dares to ask and Kitty merely replies "That Bloody Mary likes Blood"

"In reality, Bloody Mary is a sword with two blades, you summon the Bloody Mary to destroy your enemies ...but once she is finished, she kills you" Kitty explained "Ryder make a post about the incident of this sorority and how it was linked to Bloody Mary...he´s right"

Nightcreeper gulps loudly.

A figure of a bald woman with a white dress shows up in the hall and Nightcreeper only look at the creature then back to Kitty.

"You won´t collect any more souls!" Kitty speaks clapping her hands as the familiar golden line that are being used as a weapon and for all the magical moments Nightcreeper was expecting, Kitty faces of the entity with martial arts.

The creature let an agonizing scream howling to the place. It´s far from over.

"Come Creepy, are you ready for more?"

"There´s more?"

"Sword of two blades"

And they enter a room where a girl covered in scars and wearing a long blonde hair is. She is holding herself in the corner of the room lower the picture of 10 girls that have a huge X on their faces.

"So, if I´m not wrong, you must be Amy, right? You summon Bloody Mary to get revenge" Kitty speaks at easy at the girl who only gazes at Kitty and orders for someone called Bruno to attack them.

Nightcreeper has no problem in fighting this Bruno, who by the look of it, is a corpse being controlled.

"Ah, is not fun beating a corpse, much less a dead horse" Nightcreeper speaks shocking the one named Amy as Bruno was defeated quite easily and in a comical way as Nightcreeper is jungle him like the man weights nothing. Throwing Bruno to the other side seal the deal that the man won´t hurt anyone.

"Well, no more surprises" Kitty speaks to Amy as stalking towards her " Why you summon Bloody Mary?"

"Those girls killed my boyfriend" Amy explained looking to where Bruno is, still completely incapacitated by this lunatic "and they frame me, I have to get revenge"

"And you´re aware you would die too, right?" Kitty asked as now Amy smiles deviously.

"No, the tenth she had to kill is me, but, I don´t like the photo, do I?" The smile is creepy as Amy rose from the ground, Kitty had enough and using the familiar golden line she arrested Amy.

"Yeah, but I´m here and because of you, those families will have to bury their daughters, Bloody Mary is nothing more than a weapon and you´ll be responsible for their deaths" Kitty speaks opening a vortex "In limbo, sure Belasco will love to have a chat with you" Amy didn´t have much to say as she throws there.

Bruno disappears as there´s no one else to maintain the physical body.

"So, to stop the Bloody Mary, you´ll need a new haircut? That would be a problem to me"

"Yeah, I´d think you look better with the wild long hair" Kitty pipes in "still want to continue to help me?"

"Yes!"

"Still crazy"

"And Creepy" Nightcreeper completes and now both leave the house, then Kitty asks if Amy´s story was worth in the end. "Well, there´s little indication of a conspiracy against Amy, she and Bruno did light several candles and the odds were against them. It´s easier to blame on a conspiracy than your own fault"

"That´s pretty wise come from someone that is this close to appear in Jojo Bizzare adventure"

"This close? Then I´ve to upgrade my style to be in the Jojo" Nightcreeper speaks and Kitty laughs, maybe, this partnership is not so bad. She quiet like Nightcreeper´s companion.

#amalgaverse au #kitty pryde #kurt ryder #bloody mary #I trip in this one #crypt tales

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littlemisssquiggles · 7 years ago

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RWBY Musings #40: A Squiggle Meister’s Views on Jaune and the Arc Family

Anon-ninja asked

“ on jaunes similarities to jon snow I have to point out that jon snow is from the north ( and ned stark was lord of winterfell) Jaune has mentioned he has seven sisters a few times through out the series. The Seven Sisters is another name for the Pleiades star cluster, which is named after the seven daughters of Atlas so jaune is actually from atlas/mantle but just visited mistral like they had friends there (and considering the theory that jaunes ancestor was the king of vale what if instead his ancestor was the king of mistral). you know jon snows father ned stark (in the books it was never stated that his father wasnt ned stark) was the lord of winterfell and he was raised in the north and the pleiades which are also called the seven sisters constellation are the 7 daughters of atlas and jaune has 7 sisters you know weiss is based on snow white who is woken up from a death like sleep by her prince charming true love kiss and jaune saved weiss from a near death experience by amplifying her aura with his own . oh and if jaune and weiss get together and he takes her name he will be jaune schnee or jaune snow which soundss like jon snow ( funny enough both jacques and jaune have french first names”

Squiggles Answers:

Okay anon-chan. You’ve made your point very clear XD. But fair enough and good show on that knowledge, you got there. Nice!

If Jaune is originally from Atlas, that would make a boat load of sense. Back in V2, Jaune did mention hearing Weiss sing before when he was describing why he liked her. I’m not sure if the Schnee Dust Company hosted any charity concerts outside of Atlas in other parts of Remnant. The only time we’ve seen Weiss perform is on her home turf. If Jaune is Atlesian or at least from that side of Remnant then that would explain how he was able to hear her perform.

I find it interesting that so far in the series, Jaune is the only character to recognize Weiss for her singing talents. My wild guess is that he probably saw her perform once live in person at a concert hosted by the Schnee Dust Company and that’s when he first became enthralled by our veteran ice queen.

Wouldn’t be too shocked if Jaune also frequented some of those concerts just so he can see Weiss. Do you know what’d be cute? If after one concert when he was younger, Jaune brought Weiss some flowers that he had planned to give to her backstage? The idea was to give it to her in person but he never got the chance to since he was immediately stopped by security. So instead the flowers were tossed aside with a random set of gifts that Jacques Schnee probably ordered to be discarded. However Klein or whichever designated butler or caretaker was overseeing Weiss at the time managed to snag one of the gifts for Weiss before it was permanently hauled in the trash and it was the one from Jaune. Though Weiss never learnt who the flowers were from (since Jaune never revealed his name; just said her was a secret admirer or something like that), she remembered cherishing Jaune’s flowers the most since the young white knight had also taken the liberty of leaving her a little letter secretly hidden with his gift. The letter not only voiced little Jaune’s praises and admiration for Weiss and her talents, but also wished her all the best with her life, filling the girl with a pleasant sense of encouragement. Weiss cherished that letter the most because it had been what helped cheer her up following another miserable experience where her mother was absent from her concert (again) so it was just her and her father. And his company was never quite pleasant. They didn’t even share the same limo as Jacques would always have the family chauffeur take Weiss home while he took another to entertain privileged guests.

I think it’d be pretty sweet if Weiss and Jaune shared a little history like this. It’d be good for Weiss ultimately or hopefully at least, warming up to Jaune; finally seeing that he’s a good young man rather than the nuisance he used to be back in previous seasons.

Y’know this makes me wonder something about Jaune now. Is his family rich? Like considered Atlesian upper class? So far, according to RWBY, the only people to have seen Weiss perform in person are the Atlesian elite or at least that’s how it appears.

So...if Jaune’s family name: Arc is supposedly of upper class by Atlas standards, then shouldn’t his last name be known like the Schnee Family? I’m curious now. All fans know about Jaune thus far is that he has seven sisters, shares a huntsman ancestral background and that his great-great-grandfather fought in the Great War using the weapon that Jaune later inherited.

What if...Jaune had a Sofia the First moment where his father, a huntsman originally born in Mantle, remarried into Atlesian upper-class?

So Arc is in fact the family name from Jaune’s paternal side of the family while his new mom---his stepmom carries a surname that is a possible staple in the Atlas community. Perhaps not as well-known as the Schnees but still right up there with the rich and elite? It would be pretty cool if Jaune had a Fred from Big Hero 6 moment where it was later revealed to his friends that his family were rich and well-endowed. However in Jaune’s case, it would be more like his stepmother and his sisters were rich and well-endowed whereas he was always more of the runt of the litter, since he was the only child to not be biologically born to his stepmother. It’s certainly another way to tie Jaune’s character with John Snow, since Jon was originally believed to be the rejected bastard child of the noble Starks when in actuality he’s the true heir to the Iron Throne. Jaune already comes from a noble family of strong huntsmen; at least on his father’s side as he presumed. It’d be funny if he’s also secretly as rich as Weiss, thanks to his stepmom, but never brought it up. But this is just me speculating here.

Jaune’s Sisters

‘...The next town is Shion. My family used to visit there all the time!’ ....Oh yeah, don’t you have like four sisters? ... Er...Seven.’

Y’know I used to think that Jaune was the youngest born of his siblings, hence why it was so easy for him to be the target for teasing from his sisters. But...what if... Jaune is the middle child of his family. In looking back at earlier seasons, especially during the scenes where the topic of Jaune’s sisters was brought up, it was never actually confirmed if Jaune’s sisters were older or younger. As a matter of fact, each time the sisters are mentioned, it’s always with an air of ambiguity. No real specification of age.

‘...Over there is the great hiking trail and over there is where we went camping all the time. I got my own tent because I was special. Also so my sisters would stop braiding my hair...’

‘...Who knew being annoying could actually come in handy?’ ....I grew up with seven sisters. It was my only defense...’

Since the story never specifies, I’m gonna assume it’s a mix. Jaune is literally the ‘Malcolm in the Middle’. He’s the Special Boy because firstly, he’s the only boy child of eight children. Secondly he’s most likely the fifth eldest kid in the bunch and lastly, and this is mostly me feeding more into my earlier theory, Jaune is the only child from his father’s first marriage.

My hunch is that Jaune’s sisters are actually a mix of step sisters and half sisters that he gained after Papa Arc remarried. Since Ruby mentioned the number four when she first talked about Jaune’s sisters, let’s say when Jaune’s dad married his second wife, Jaune gained four older sisters who were his stepmother’s children from her last marriage. Later, Papa Arc and Stepmommy Arc had three more daughters after Jaune. So in actuality, Jaune has four older stepsisters and three younger half sisters with him being the middle man and only boy. Now again, this is just me speculating here to further emphasize my presumption but...who knows? Could be a possibility? There’s still a lot of mystery to Jaune’s family tree left to be discovered so yeah, who knows.

If Jaune is eventually revealed to hail from Atlas, it’d be awesome because it could give the gang a potential nice place to stay when they arrive in Atlas. Plus it’d be a really, really nice way for us to finally meet Jaune’s family and his infamous seven sisters at long last. The Seven Daughters of Atlas indeed.

Y’know while other RWBY theorists have been imagining Jaune’s sisters to be badass huntresses, am I the only one who’s just picturing them all each as pampered princesses; spoiled by the Atlesian lifestyle. Not so spoiled that they’re pompous and annoying but enough that they consider the huntsman lifestyle, as Whitley put it, ‘far too barbaric and hostile’ for their tastes. It’d be interesting if Jaune sisters, particularly the older ones, never desired to become huntresses due to the dangers of such a lifestyle. It’d be interesting if it’s revealed that Jaune’s sisters constantly worry for their brother’s safety due to him choosing to become a huntsman like their stepfather and his side of the family. But after seeing their brother in action against a Grimm, Jaune inspires, perhaps his younger sisters or at least one of them to become a huntress. Maybe? But that’s my view of the Arc Sisters. Everyone’s got their own.

Jaune’s Parents

Suppose... Jaune shares a very close bond to his father and to some extent, even his sisters (despite their tendency to tease him a lot as the only boy child). However Jaune has a somewhat strained relationship with his step-mother.

Not in the sense that his step mother is a wicked woman who constantly treats Jaune like an outsider and stain on her family household but more in the sense that his step-mom strongly desires to be a great mom to Jaune but doesn’t really know how. And while the two do get along well, Jaune has never been able to connect to his stepmother emotionally due to him still harbouring some emotions about losing his real mother at a young age. And despite his stepmother’s efforts to fill that void in his life, Jaune never calls her ‘mom’. He always refers to her as his ‘step-mom’; even in the many long years since their families united.

Since we’re comparing Jaune Arc to Jon Snow, I don’t want Jaune to be a bastard child of his family or have a mother figure that hates him; like in the case of Catelyn Stark.

I know in Game of Thrones, Catelyn Stark was pretty much a bitch to Jon. That being said, I don’t want that to be the case for Jaune. If he does indeed have a stepmother, it’d be refreshing to see a parent-child dynamic where the step parent actually tries to connect with their stepchild. Of all her children, Stepmommy Arc has always struggled with her bond with Jaune since he was the only child from her second husband’s first marriage. Not to mention that Jaune always kind of felt that his stepmother didn’t like him when in fact it was a misunderstanding.

So far in RWBY, Blake is the only known character with both her parents still in the story and actually happily married.

A nice way to highlight a comparison between Weiss and Jaune is to indicate the possible similarities between their families. Again, I understand this is merely just a theory of mine but it would be mighty fascinating if part of Jaune’s family, at least on his new mother’s side, is very prestige in the Atlas community. So both Jaune and Weiss will share family members who married into wealth.

Though unlike Jacques, Jaune’s dad actually remarried his stepmother for the right reasons. It’d be a nice way of showing Weiss what her family could’ve been if her father wasn’t such a jackass or, as the FNDM likes to call him, a JACQUES-ASS!

It’d be nice if we got another Atlesian family in the series where the marriage considered of an outsider being courted into higher class society but out of love rather than the pursuit of power. I’d love to see the kind of father Jaune’s dad is.

He certainly seems like the family man type since Jaune mentioned him taking the entire family camping in Shion Village frequently back in V4. It’d be interesting to see if Papa Arc contrasts Jacques Schnee in the sense that he’s the Ned Stark to his...whelp, I guess,Jacques Schnee is more the RWBY equivalent of Cersi Lannister from GOT in terms of their conniving wit and just how low both characters will stoop to get what they want, right?

A Gift from a King

Lastly to conclude my long-ass reply, I’ll answer your point on Jaune's ancestor. Yeah...I don’t think Jaune's great-great grandfather was the King of Vale or the King of Mistral or even a king at all for that matter.

If anything Jaune's ancestor was most likely a revered huntsman whose bravery and strength during the Great War was remembered as he probably helped to shape it and lead Remnant into a new era of peace between the Four Kingdoms. Remember the statue in the Beacon Academy courtyard? The one of the huntsman, huntress and the Grimm? The same one that Jaune was seen looking at back in the V1 opening?

I could be wrong about this but I think the heroic huntsman immortalized in stone in that statue might've been Great-Great Grandpapi Arc. Or at least reminded Jaune of him and the lineage of strength he was expected to uphold.

It'd be exciting if Jaune bared some similarities to his great-great grandfather in his youth.

Like perhaps Jaune has always perceived Great-Great Grandpapi Arc to be this powerful warrior prodigy from the get go based on all the tall tales he heard about him growing up.

However what if...in his teenage years, when he was about Jaune’s age at the start of RWBY, Great-Great Grandpapi Arc was a scraggly-looking young kid who desired to become a brave huntsman but lacked the talent and formal training. It was then when he met the King of Vale who later became his first friend and mentor. Under the King’s tutelage, Jaune’s great-great grandfather was transformed from an incompetent fighter to a strong huntsman worthy of fighting for his kingdom in the Great War. As a result of their friendship as his pupil, the King eventually presented young Great-Great Grandpapi Arc with a weapon upon successfully completing his training. The weapon was a sword and shield---Crocea Mors, as the King christened it, which the man proclaimed suited the young Arc lad perfectly as he believed he would go on to do amazing things for his Kingdom with such a weapon in his arsenal. And as we all know, Great-Great Grandpapi Arc fought in the Great War wielding Crocea Mors as his trademark weapon of choice. That's my theory. I think Crocea Mors was gift from the King of Vale to Jaune’s ancestor.

I’d also love to think that Great-Great Grandpapi Arc originally fought alongside the King of Vale in the Great War; adding to my hunch that they were once comrades in arms.

It's very easy for the Arc Family to have ties to Vale on Jaune’s father's side of the family. However he can also have ties to Atlas too. Y'know in the event that his dad did marry a woman from Atlas?

I really want the concept of Jaune Arc being half Valiant / half Atlesian and/or mostly raised in Atlas to become canon now. I like it because not only could it give us another character with ties to the Kingdom besides Weiss but as I mentioned before, it’s another way to pinpoint some similarities between the two and help strength the White Knight friendship.

But that's just me.

♦ More RWBY Musings by Squiggles

~LittleMissSquiggles (2018)

#jaune arc #weiss schnee #jaune and weiss #rwby whiteknight #rwby theories #rwby musings #squiggles answers: rwby

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engmjr419 · 4 years ago

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Missionaries to the Moon! God made the stars, exoticism, and the Moon Hoax of 1835

An illustration of a paper boy announcing the news of life on the moon from The American Heritage (1969). The story of the “lunar discoveries” was highly profitable for the paperboys, enabling a comfortable life for a few weeks. Source.

If you found out that an astronomer had sighted a utopian society of orangutan-faced bat people on the moon, what would you first thought be? To attempt to communicate with them? Maybe shrug and go on about your day? Write it off as a hoax? For some people in the 19th century, the first thought was to convert the flying, utopian bat people to Christianity.

In the late summer of 1835, an article was published in the New York Sun by its editor Richard Adams Locke, that would forever change journalism, fiction, and hoaxes in the American Sphere; it was also failed satire. In a series of articles, supposedly republished from a scientific journal and authored by John Herschel, the Sun revealed that life had been found on the moon, deer like unicorns, bison-esc creatures, and humanoids with thin membrane, bat-like wings. According to Locke it was supposed to be satire on the rapid scientific discoveries of the era alongside the newspaper culture, however it proved to be too believable. It gained massive popularity, spread by newsboys, talk, and other newspapers commenting on it, and people truly believed there was life on the moon that year.

Obviously, there wasn’t, but the event stands as a massive turning point in American culture. It’s one of the earliest mass instances of “yellow journalism” and newspaper-based hoax.

An illustration from the 1865 novel, From the Earth to the Moon by Jules Verns. The book is about the Baltimore Gun Club building a cannon to literally shoot people to the moon. Source.

It may not be surprising to find out that stories about the moon are nothing new. People have been looking up to it at night forever, after all. In a particularly similar pair of stories in 1638, The Discovery of a World in the Moone by John Wilkins and The Man in the Moone by Francis Godwins was published inspired by Galileo’s observations of the moon from his telescope. In the latter, a Spanish nobleman finds a species of swan-like birds in the West Indies who he attaches a harness to and they fly to the moon where they find “a place with plants, animals, and most surprisingly, a utopian civilization of tall, Christian people” (“Peoples & Creatures of the Moon”).

In a similar vein, the hoax was surrounded by a culture enthused about the celestial, scientific discovery, and religion. Hayley’s comet was set to return to earth after being gone for around 77 years, prompting interest in the heavens. John Herschel, one of the most popular astronomy of the century, had published Treatise on Astronomy only a year prior to great cultural acclaim. Poe had published a similar work about a journey to the moon via a newspaper crafted balloon published only weeks prior, which he would state was plagiarized. Finally, the 19th century was an era of scientific advancement, prompting even the most low-class person to be intrigued. Simply put, it was the perfect landing pad for the Bat People to land on.

The Moon Hoax of 1835 is surely an interesting event, that exposes certain aspects of the culture around it through its portrayal of the moon people, reactions to them, and the actions people attempted to take. As I stated before, some people’s reactions to the articles was to attempt missionary work upon the moon inhabitants. They wanted to send bibles, in odd hope to make them see the “error of their ways”. The audience placed the hierarchy of being, human morals, and imperialism onto the fictional people, reflecting how they treated Africa, China, and other “barbaric” countries.

This Moon Hoax is a form of exoticism through the (telescope) lens of fiction, as everything in the 19th century seems to be a discussion of race. It is the century that had the Civil War, blackface and minstrelsy, and de-legalization of slavery. Furthermore, around the year of 1835 figures like Joice Heth, Tom Rice, and other race-based attractions had become popular amongst the populace. In a culture that seems in an endless discussion of race, its impossible for the Moon Hoax to avoid it. To make a fictional “other” Locke had to look upon what society considered the “other”. Thus, The Moon Hoax of 1835 mirrors the way Americans viewed foreign countries through exoticism and imperialism. The moon was simply another foreign culture.

“The Whiteman’s Burden” from 1899 depicting Uncle Sam trudging after Britian’s figure of John Bull while stepping on stones labeled Barbarism, Oppression, Superstition, Ignorance, and Vice towards the top labeled “Civilization”. On his back, Uncle Sam carries racist caricatures of the non-white nations, most obviously Africans with Native American elements. Notice how they are drawn almost animalistically. Source.

The concepts of Exoticism and Imperialism tend to go hand in hand, one fetishizing a culture while the other overtakes it. British had already been colonizing land since the 17th century, including land within Africa, the Americas, the Caribbean, and Asia. While America would not truly begin a full on colonization project, the so called “Colonial project”, until the late 19th century, the nation would still hold onto the imperialist thoughts of the British who they had only parted ways with barely half a century ago.

Exoticism, a trend where a culture becomes enamored in the foreign to dehumanizing degrees, was everywhere in the 19th century. To the 19th century viewer, the exotic was fantastical, eye catching, and seemingly fictional. “New Yorkers could sample what seemed to be all the exotica the world had to offer: stuffed birds and reptiles, Indian utensils, Indian dresses, and sometimes the Indians themselves. Peale’s Museum, across from City Hall, was not featuring a “living ourang outang, or wild man of the woods” named Joe” (Goodman 8-9). “Exotic” humans were on the same level as foreign objects, compared to apes (like Joe) and mystical concepts, thus “The more compelling attractions, though, were always the human ones” (9). That summer, Joice Heth was already on display, an old black woman claiming to be George Washington’s Nursemaid from 1674, playing into peoples odd beliefs of the foreign, magical powers of the slaves. Heth stands as a singular figure in a long history of “black people on parade, from the auction block to the menagerie, from the first Africans captured and brought as slaves to James in 1619 to Ota Benga, shown in the Bronx Zoo as a pygmy savage in 1906” (Young 34).

The cover of the sheet music for “Zip Coon: A favorite comic song” sung by Mr G.W. Dixon from 1834. Dixon was a popular American entertainer, most notable for performing in Blackface as he sang “Coal Black Rose” and, obviously, “Zip Coon”. The lyrics of Zip Coon include “O ole Zip Coon he is a larned skoler” mimicking the language of African Americans. Source.

To add onto this parade of black figures, the imitation of the black figure had already become popular in the early 19th century through Minstrelsy. Minstrelsy being a form of theatre where white individuals would dress up in Black Face and exaggerate the actions and language of Black Americans to imitate them for humor. Figures such as G.W. Dixon and Thomas D. Rice (often stated to be the Father of Minstrelsy) were already performing before 1835. Thomas D. Rice is notable for playing Jim Crow, and adapting and popularizing a traditional slave song called “Jump Jim Crow”

Along with this, the new scientific discoveries and culture of the early 19th century was being used in tandem with Religion and Racial discussion:

“with phrenology emerging as just one of the many pseudosciences that sought to enact, reinforce, and restrict racial difference. Science, religion, and conceptions of race all confirmed one another: the Bible, the stars, and even the shapes of heads were enlisted over and over again to prove established prejudices true. “Objective” investigators constantly rediscovered that Negroes, Indians, and other dark races (some of them European, mind you) were indeed still inferior” (Young).

The culture surrounding race in the 19th century repeatedly tried to prove that it was truly important. People sought proof that the races were hierarchical, the white was superior, and that the “dark” were inferior. The “dark races” were caricatured as mishappen, monstrous (as seen in Joice Heth posters), and inhuman like the cartoon below.

“Puzzled which to Choose!! or, The King of Tombuctoo offering one of his daughters in marriage to Capt-“ from 1818, depicting an African king offering one of his daughters up for marriage to a white sea captain. The “wild” Africans are presented in grotesque, almost inhuman figures from the daughters exaggerated head shapes, to the faces of the crowd behind them. Meanwhile, the white foreigners are pictured as calm (save that one man on the left) and elegant in both figure and composure. Source.

In this era of Exoticism, and even today, the faces and bodies of non-whites are shown animalistically, to degrade them as being less than human. Later into the 19th century, figures like “What is It?” would be presented “beside “the great living Black Sea Lion” or literally beneath an albino family of “White Negreos, or Moors” and “What Can They Be? These most strange and MYSTERIOUS ANIMALS! Two in number and of distinct species, found in a cave in the hither-to unexplored Wilds of Africa” (Young 38). The foreign land would be presented as exotic, otherworldly, a region in need of taming (usually Christian-orientated taming).

Missionaries were one of the earliest to explore Central and Southern Africa in the early 19th century, before true colonization began. While these were viewed as good efforts, motives including teaching Africans to read and further education and helping those harmed by the slave trade (that had been outlawed In Britain only a year before the Moon Hoax), the main goal of these missionaries was to convert (“19th Century White Missionaries”). Christianity was used as a weapon against the Africans, calling their culture sinful and pushing Christianity as “civilization”. A first line from a collection of missionary accounts reads, “We have in this volume brought together the names of several of our most distinguished female heroines, who have toiled and suffered on heathen soil” (Eddy). Harriet Newell, called the proto-matyr by the author, describes the foreign world in regards to the Christian church, “the wail of a dying world as it echoed over land and ocean and sounded along our shores; she had not realized the great fact that every blackened tribe constitutes a part of the universal brotherhood of man” (13).

Let us not forget, the winner writes the history of the war and the missionary writes the account of their work. Missionaries accounts were some of the only exposures the early 19th century individual got to other cultures. This is not to say missionaries did not have a genuine interest in helping the African people, it is only to say that Christianity was used as a tool of Imperialism during this century with the goal of an abstract concept of civilization.

A French print published alongside the 1935 story, claiming to show all the Moon’s creatures and plants. The lushness of it is reminiscent of the forests of Africa and South America. Source.

The Moon Hoax thus illustrates the most foreign area possible to the 19th century reader, the moon. Exoticism is a part of why the hoax became so popular, the description of another world, with odd, strange creatures, people, and geography. The land is described, “It was an oval valley, surrounded except at narrow opening towards the south, by hills, red as the purest vermilion, and evidently crystallized” along with animals:

“Having all the external characteristics of the bison, but more diminutive than any species of the bos genus in our natural history. Its tail is like that of our bos grunniens; but in its semi-circular horns, the hump on its shoulders, and the depth of its dewlap, and the length of its shaggy hair, it closely resembled the species to which I first compared it” (Locke 10).

The account of the Moon Hoax uses this mixture of scientific language with the fantastical, an attempt to make the world seem real through evidence but at the same time “exotic”. The moon would appear to the populace as proof of the hospitality of the universe, a gift of god. However, that so called “missionary moon” is set against the history of exoticism, “not just in the black of outer space but in the perceived darkness of Africa, which, to most of the Sun’s readers, may have seemed just as distant, hostile, and in need of saving” (Young).

The Moon of Locke’s Moon Hoax is representative of peoples thoughts of the foreign countries, particularly Africa. Its notable that Locke says these observations of the moon from the Cape of Good Hope, a headland in South Africa. The appearance of the inhabitants, most particularly the Bat People, find themselves uncomfortably close to “a range of racial types” and “stereotypically black” (Young).

“Vespertilio homo” from Neapel, 1836. The Bat People are depicted as covered with dark hair, with thin anatomy, and bat wings. Source.

Vespertilio Homo are noted as having “short and glossy copper-colored hair”, a face like a “large orang outang”, and “The mouth, however, was very prominent, …and by lips far more human”. Their hair is described as “a darker color than that of the body, closely curled, but apparently not wooly” (Locke 15). They are instantly claimed as being rational beings, simply for being human-esc in form in context to the “Great Chain of Being” (a Christian belief that the human form is the top of a hierarchical pyramid). The activities of these beings are described as “their amusements would but ill comport with our terrestrial notions of decorum (social etiquette)” , simply put, the narrator shames them for less “civilized” entertainment implied to be of the sexual variety (16).

Upon seeing a different tribe of these creatures, the narrator describes them as “larger stature than the former specimens, less dark in color, and in every respect an improved variety of the race” calling back to the pseudoscientific beliefs of the “Dark” races being inferior (21). Locke creates this lighter skinned version of the bat people, puts them at a higher civilization structure than the darker one, and then has the narrator state them to be the improved variety. The narrator praises the lighter skinned variety of bat people for this odd activity of sharing fruit and indulging in a triangle-based religion, while the darker variety get shamed for indulging in each other.

The Bat People of the Moon are placed under this Christian tinted, anthropocentric lens (Along side the telescope lens) that value their actions based on human morality and religion. Who says that the Bat People are the most civilized species, when the biped beavers appear to have huts? They are considered such simply because they resemble the human form, thus they are forced under this colonial lens, the same one the African people and other “barbaric” nations are put under. The darker skinned variety are instantly labeled “heretics” just as the Africans were by missionaries, while the lighter variety are praised for indulging in what appears to be religion. They are placed under the imperial lens, that states what a culture should and shouldn’t do in line with the Christian ideal.

So, to finally talk on the matter that people wanted to send Bibles to the Moon, it seems like a logical conclusion to the 19th century Missionary-orientated Christian. They are given a fictional, foreign world, bereft of the “Holy Ghost”, that echoes the cultures view of Africa, Asia, and other foreign areas If you cannot send missionaries to the moon, bibles are the next best thing.

The New Negro by Allan R. Freelon. A form of an African American wanders in a strange world, notice the hanged bodies in the background in front of three crosses alongside a face of African art. Source.

The Moon Hoax of 1935 stands as an important cultural flagstone in American Culture. It is stated to be the birth of the modern concept of fake journalism and alerting readers to begin reading askance. It stands as an important point of spiritual and celestial interest. It also an excellent way to see how fiction interacts with culture, and how that culture represents itself inside how fiction depicts. The Bat People are echoes of the African, the Asian, the Indian, and how the American and English saw these people. They are placed under a lens of anthropocentric values, then immediately criticized for not meeting those values. These fictional mashups of bat and man are degraded, praised, criticized, and ranked from seemingly insignificant actions that are characteristic of animals. The fact people wanted to convert them is no surprise, it seemed to be the first action the 19th century person did upon meeting a foreign country. Let us not forget the Crusades, after all.

This hoax stands to me as the opposite of Afrofuturism (A sci-fi genre that explores the diaspora of African people with modern society). It is a strange exploration of race, of a new world, of a new century where the Moon is inhabited by Bat People and humans want to convert them to Christianity. As people argue if fiction affects reality or not, it is clear that reality affects fiction. If the Moon Hoax of 1935 is not also evidence for the reverse, then what is?

Works Cited

Eddy, Daniel Clarke. “Daughters of the Cross: or, Woman’s Mission”. Dayton and Wentworth, 1855. Pg. 13.

Goodman, Matthew. “The Sun and the Moon: The Remarkable True Account of Hoaxers, Showmen, Dueling journalists, and Lunar Man-Bats in Nineteenth-Century New York”. Perseus Books Group, 2008. Pgs. 8-9.

Locke, Richard Adams. “Great Astronomical Discoveries Lately Made By Sir John Herschel”. The Sun, August 25th, 1835. Pgs. 10, 15-16, 21.

Young, Kevin. “Moon Shot: Race, a Hoax, and the Birth of Fake News”. The New Yorker, October 21, 2017. https://www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/moon-shot-race-a-hoax-and-the-birth-of-fake-news

Young, Kevin. “Bunk: The Rise of Hoaxes, Humbug, Plagiarists, Phonies, Post-Facts, and Fake News”. Graywolf Press, 2017. Pgs. 34-38.

“19th Century White Missionaries”. BBC World Service. https://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/africa/features/storyofafrica/8chapter4.shtml

“Peoples & Creatures of the Moon”. Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/collections/finding-our-place-in-the-cosmos-with-carl-sagan/articles-and-essays/life-on-other-worlds/peoples-and-creatures-of-the-moon

#The Moon Hoax #1935 #Exoticism

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slut-for-fandoms · 7 years ago

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Little witch (Part 9)

Pairings: Peter x reader

Word count: 2 165

Summary: The reader is raised by Hydra but manages to escape after they kill her parents. She is emotionally unstable and can’t control her powers. The Avengers rescue her and give her everything she missed form life and wanted to feel. But would her new found love be enough to extinguish her desire for revenge? What would be the side she would choose to rely on? Will she be ready to face the real her?

A/N: I’m so so sorry for posting it so late. I hope you like it and i promise to post the next part soon. I want to thank you all for the support. I have no idea how I got so many followers because of this story ♥ Please tell me what you thing :3 Enjoy!

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5 // Part 6// Part 7// Part 8

“I detected something.”, the captain informed the others, “Her helicopter is just below us.”

“I don’t want to ruin your moment but there’s nothing below us.”, Tony stated as he went closer to Steve and looked at the monitor.

“She must have activated the invisible shield so we cannot see her, but the ship is on the ground.”

The passengers put their seatbelts on while Steve landed the helicopter. Once they were outside, the Avengers were greeted by the frightening view. Wanda looked away and covered her mouth, Steve just closed his eyes for a moment. Everyone was stunned. Vision was the first one to reach the bodies of the dead children.

“I understood now why she had decided to come.”, Nobody else dared to speak. The grey and icy place filled with death and ash shouldn’t be disturbed.

“We better go.”, Clint broke the silence. Pointing out (Y/N)’s steps formed in the ash, the man led the avengers towards Hydra’s base.

“It’s all in my head. You are not real! You cannot be real!”, (Y/N) kept saying this out loud but more to herself rather than to the people in front of her.

“Oh, sweetheart. We are more than real.”, the woman couldn’t stop grinning but from what was hard to be said. She was sitting on a chair with her legs crossed and a file in her hands. She had shoulder long brown hair. Her face looked young, with sharp features and sleek skin. The only thing giving away the ages were the wrinkles on her neck. (Y/N) looked again at her, trying to believe what she had heard. Her brain was against all of this. It whispered her that everything was an illusion, a false reality she should not believe in but once she met those grey eyes of the woman she knew. She knew that that was the reality, that the woman and the man in front of her were indeed her…

“Family.”, the man spoke, “Our family is together again.”

“My parents died some months ago. I saw them being killed.”

“You think we would really do this!?”

“You can be our daughter but we won’t risk our lives and mission because of you.”, the woman, whose name was Amanda, informed the girl. Although the words hurt the witch, she gulped and tried to understand the whole situation.

“Then why did you do that? I don’t understand anything!”, finally the power of her voice came back, “Why was I locked here and tortured while you were able to stop it!?”, with each world, her tone was getting louder and louder.

“We didn’t want to.”

“Wha- ”, (Y/N) tried to protest, to shout, to cry, to do something but she couldn’t.

“I thought you could have at least inherited my intelligence but no. Just like your father. Never knowing what’s going on.”, Amanda stood up and went to a near table. It was far but the girl was still able to see what was on it – nothing good.

“The kidnap, it was all fake. We planned this for months and I’m happy it went well. I was scared the civilians would scream and try to help you but the money we gave to the soldiers was enough to stop the people. It’s amazing what money can do to humanity, don’t you think?”, her mother was still with her back towards the girl and (Y/N) wasn’t able to see what she was doing.

“Why did you bring me here? Why did you lie to me and did this thing?”

“You were, how old, six or seven? I can’t remember and I don’t care. Too young but still old enough to understand it. We are the leaders of this base, (Y/N)! We were given time and recourses to achieve our mission. Thinking about what would happen to you never occurred to me, to be honest. I thought only about the success. And when you were the only one showing a problem with your abilities I was obliged to do everything to unlock them.”

“Didn’t you feel sorry about doing this to me? To your daughter!?”, (Y/N) screamed and the floor shaken slightly due to her powers. The woman laughed and turned around carrying and injection with a green substance in it.

“No.”, Amanda said calmly and sat on the chair opposite her child, “Torturing you was the only way to keep you alive. So you better thank me not blame me.”

“You should have let me die.”, (Y/N) calmed down her rage, “You have no idea how many times I wanted this. How many times I was so close to ending my life. And you could have stopped me only because you need me as a weapon. I desired to see you again, to hug you and hear the words ‘I love you’, to tell me that everything was fine and we could go.”

“You should stop living in such a fairy tale. Life isn’t like that.”, her father spoke which made the girl look at him. He had been here for the whole time and after the first seconds she had forgotten about him.

“You must look at the big picture not at the details. You are a weapon, my weapon and I will use you whatever it takes. When you escaped I hoped you have died somewhere so no one would understand about you being a failure. I didn’t want to lose my head because of you being a disgrace. But I was wrong.”, the woman stood again and start walking towards the girl. (Y/N) was moving in order to escape and get away from that person she was supposed to call mother, “You have no idea how blessed you are for being trained by the avengers. Now, your powers are raging inside you, ready to explode and ruin everything. I cannot miss such an opportunity, darling.”, Despite her soft hands, the grip on (Y/N)’s face was strong enough to make her stop moving. Seconds later the girl felt a strong pain in her neck as the injection had went though her skin. It didn’t take much until the liquid had reached her brain. The things in front of her were blurring and spinning. She blinked several times but it didn’t get better. The girl tried to use her powers but had no energy for that.

“What are you doing to me?!”

“Something we are very popular with – brainwashing.”, the envy smile was the last thing (Y/N) saw.

“Why aren’t there any guards?”, Peter asked as the avengers reached the base.

“I think they were occupied with (Y/N).”, Tony stated, “Jarvis scanned the building. Some are coming towards us but most are deep down probably protecting something, or somebody.”

“So, Clint, I, Tony and Bruce will make you a way and keep the agents occupied. You go.”, Nat announced.

The group waited until Iron man, Black widow, Hawkeye and Hulk cleared their way. Once it was done the others broke into the base without any problems. Steve and Vision took left, while Thor, Wanda and Peter took right. They were walking in silence as every one of them was immersed in their thoughts. Nobody was surprised by the fact Peter didn’t speak. They all knew how close they had become and the fact that Peter was in love with the girl. The avengers were so happy for them, especially Wanda and Tony. For Tony Peter was like a son. He loved him although he tried to cover it with his sarcasm as he tended to do. Wanda felt (Y/N) as her own sister and was glad to see her adapt with the avengers and slowly falling in love finally able to feel like a normal teenager with superpowers.

“Now…where?”, Thor questioned. They had three options – along, left or right.

“I’m for left.”

“You can sense her?”, Peter asked filled with hope but Wanda’s answer ruined his beliefs.

“No, Peter. See the mountain of bodies.”, Thor and Peter looked left and saw the whole corridor covered in blood and dead men.

Peter was shocked. ‘Had (Y/N) done that?’, he couldn’t believe what he saw and despite the view, he wasn’t going to give up on her. He knew she was dangerous but everyone needed to be shown a path of good and he was willing to give it to her.

“Let’s go, we are running out of time!”, Peter was running through the bodies not caring about them. The little witch was the only thing in his head. Wanda and Thor kept up with him until they reached what they were looking for.

“It’s not working.”, an angry voice reached (Y/N)’s ears. She was in that condition when you are neither asleep nor awake. She was and wasn’t here. She knew she was under an opiate. It created so many illusions that kept her on the edge. Real and Surreal. What should she trust? She kept seeing Peter coming but not rescuing her. He had been telling her she was a monster, weapon, dangerous. That he was ashamed of her and he never meant the lovely things he had said. Deep inside she knew it wasn’t true but the words…He, real or not, was right. She was a killing machine, not deserving love, family, anything.

“Why isn’t it working, Samuel?”

“I – I don’t k-know.”, the man stuttered, “I tested it several times and it worked.”

“I need it to work on everybody! I will make it on my own.”, a sound of a gun shooting echoed through the room. It affected (Y/N) and she slightly opened her eyes for some seconds. The woman was nearing her carrying another injection in her hands.

“Calm down, darling. We are not finished, yet.”, Amanda was inches away from her when somebody started beating the door. The woman turned around and when she realized what was about to happen, she hurried to inject the girl. The needle was in her neck when the door broke and flew across the room. Amanda crouched in order to keep her face safe.

When Peter saw his precious girl tied on a chair looking dead and with an injection in her skin, he ran towards her. Taking the needle out he tried to bring her back.

“(Y/N), (Y/N)! Hey, listen to be sweetheart! I’m here, you are fine.”, but the girl was drugged and the effects of it weren’t disappearing that fast.

“Don’t you dare move!”, Wanda shouted. Peter turned around and saw a woman holding a knife and struggling to get out of Wanda’s magic hold.

“What have you done to her?”, Peter screamed at the woman but received a laugh. The boy turned around to face the girl and untied her.

“You can’t save her.”, the tone sent shivers down his spine. Something in the way she had said that made him believe the spoken. ‘No!’ He was going to save her, to protect and care about her and nothing was going to stop him from that. Peter took one of (Y/N)’s hands and put it on his shoulders trying to keep her up. As he was about to call Thor for help he saw him falling on the ground. Wanda loosened her magic grip on the woman with the knife in shock. The woman used this opportunity and stuck the cold weapon in his thigh. Screaming in agony, Peter lost balance and was going to fall on the ground but with the other leg he managed to stay up. (Y/N) groaned at those movements. Peter’s muscles were on fire. He had experienced worse things and holding a girl wasn’t supposed to be hard for him. As Peter was struggling with taking the knife away, Wanda was fighting with agents that had appeared without the three avengers noticing. Thor had been hit by a device that knocked him out. Using her powers, Wanda was doing good but for now.

“Peter, hurry!”, but the boy’s scream made her look away. She saw that the woman had injured the spider-boy. Scarlet witch didn’t know what to do and the seconds it took her to decide, she felt her body paralyzing and falling on the ground.

Spiderman saw his two partners lying on the floor, (Y/N)’s body seemed heavier and heavier with each minute passing.

“Peter.”, (Y/N) murmured and tried to open her eyes but still in vain.

“Karen…help.”, but the voice in his suit wasn’t answering him.

“I told you boy.”, the woman that had attacked him was now in front of him and grinning with satisfaction, “The knife was poisoned, that’s why you are feeling so weak.” , Peter found it hard to breathe and stay up.

“We-”, he spoke but fell on his knees dropping the girl’s body, “escape.”

“I don’t think so. Tie them!”, Amanda shouted at the soldiers around her. The four superheroes’ bodies were being dragged while the (Y/N)’s mother was muttering something.

“What would be better that having the avengers as our own bitches?”

Part 10

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vernicle · 7 years ago

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<p>There weren't many nice moments on last night's 'Game of Thrones.' We found 5 anyway.</p>

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Welcome to “A Track of Nice and Fire” Upworthy’s weekly series recapping just one of the most brutal exhibits on Tv set. Given that brutality is not actually in our wheelhouse, Eric March has taken it upon himself to dig deep, twist and change, and squint actually tricky to see if he can find the light-weight of kindness in all the darkness. He may possibly not normally be successful, but by gosh if he won’t attempt his best.

Here’s what he observed on this week’s "Activity of Thrones."

To believe just final week, the characters on this display were curing lethal ailments, caressing just about every other tenderly, and buying and selling pie recipes.

About that. Picture by Helen Sloan/HBO.

Again to reality, I guess.

In an episode that observed handful of admirer beloved (and decidedly non-beloved) characters outmaneuvered, boxed in, and poisoned, I'll acknowledge there actually wasn't substantially loving kindness to go about.

Still, it is really my work to find whatever glimmer of niceness there is, and mainly because I like my health program, I achieved way down deep and observed ... some quite good times in year seven, episode three of "Activity of Thrones."

Alright, actually, actually, actually deep.

Listed here goes.

1. Sansa would make positive her knights are warm 'n cozy!

"No, I have not read Reinhold Niebuhr, what does he have to say about neo-orthodox realist theology?" Picture by Helen Sloan/HBO.

With Jon gone getting his dire warnings laughed off and his boat curiously appropriated, would Sansa rise to the challenge of primary the North?

Unsurprisingly, yeah, duh.

At rise this week, we find her striding by Winterfell serving orders to the castle's several comparable-looking maesters, producing positive the hay goes in which it requires to go and, most importantly, acquiring her southern palls to strap leather-based on their armor so they don't freeze to death.

Seem at individuals management skills blossoming!

Of system, she even now has to endure Littlefinger's incessant monologuing. "Each and every attainable series of functions is going on all at after," he suggests, reminding Sansa that, sure, he is having that freshman philosophy seminar and, sure, he did do all the looking at this week.

This is actually your recreation, person?

I mean...

Ugh.

It really is going to function, is just not it?

2. Some random Ironborn dudes are variety adequate to hoist Theon out of the sea!

Oh excellent, Theon receives to keep on dwelling!

Theon and Yara, viewed here in happier instances. Picture by Helen Sloan/HBO.

A gaggle of clanky boatsmen do the erstwhile heir to the Iron Islands a stable by not just sailing by and letting him drown. They do deal with to insult him in the procedure, but even even now, it is really extra than Theon deserves.

His Uncle Euron, in the meantime, receives a parade down the just one street in King's Landing we all know ... and sister Yara receives to be a part of for no cost! Regrettably, she has to endure it from the low-priced seats in which you get rotten veggies hurled at you. Immediately after a prolonged journey, although, perhaps it was good to briefly sniff a decaying tomato or two?

I'd go for it.

3. Cersei lets herself to briefly working experience empathy!

"Even although we're enemies, you and I, I comprehend the fury that drives you."

That line, delivered to a shackled and gagged Ellaria Sand, clocks in at precisely two seconds — the longest sustained appreciation Cersei has at any time expressed for an additional human being's perspective.

Just thinkin' up means to torture you. Picture by Helen Sloan/HBO.

Indeed, the quite upcoming point she does is condemn Tyene to a distressing death of not known period and Ellaria to hanging out with her lifeless daughter's corpse for months or years or decades, but hey! I obtained Cersei on this week's listing of good times. Cersei! I did not even have to cheat.

Oh, and sub-good point shoutout to Davids Benioff and Weiss for selecting not to matter us to an additional implied, gratuitous rape-and-torture-by-Mountain. The scene was obviously, fully headed there until eventually all of a unexpected it wasn't and, well ... phew! Fantastic phone, every person.

4. Daenerys treats Jon to an all-you-can-mine obsidian buffet!

The dragon's share of the episode is taken up by a prolonged-winded meeting amongst Jon Snow and his Aunt Dany (here's the prolonged-speculated, Bran-affirmed loved ones tree from final season's finale) who, unusually, is skeptical about this entire "White Walker" point inspite of supplying delivery to three traveling, hearth-breathing, sky dinosaurs like, final week. Probably it is really mainly because she's skeptical of the messenger — the beardy person with the wolf snuggie who calls himself "king" and would not pledge his allegiance inspite of the dozens (hundreds) of curvy blades inside of torso-piercing selection.

Picture by Helen Sloan/HBO.

Still, the would-be queen requires allies, and so, immediately after apologizing for the time her father napalmed Jon's grandpa and uncle to death, she tells him to assistance himself to all the dragonglass he wants and get the heck out.

Absolutely sure, she doesn't want the things or even actually know what it is, but she can inform the person is earnest, and besides, you gotta respect any one who will come so much south with a lifeless animal on their neck.

Which is just style-ahead.

5. Jamie kills Olenna the good way!

"Oh, just one extra point serious brief." Picture by Helen Sloan/HBO.

The poor information? Cersei manages to foil Tyrion's also-clever-by-50 percent sewer invasion program by sending the bulk of her army to murder an outdated woman.

The excellent information? Jaime is the just one who receives to do the murdering, and as a qualified Reformed Terrible Male in Fantastic Standing, he lets the Queen of Thorns choose the (somewhat) easy way out.

In a world in which revenge killing usually is made up of beheading, flaying alive, hungry puppy-siccing, stabbing-by-the-expecting-stomach, and/or slow neck slicing immediately after power-feeding the blissfully-unaware-condemned his very own kin, a brief, pain-free poison-in-the-wine counts as a win.

Even when the elder Tyrell lets it slip that she killed Jaime's child way back again in year 4, he chooses to sullen himself out of the home relatively than revert to Cersei's original head-slicing program.

Score just one for that renowned Lannister restraint!

Random Functions of Niceness

I suppose it is really good that Bran complimented Sansa's costume, but did he actually have to carry up her wedding ceremony day? Yeah, he wasn't about for the aftermath, but dude is all-figuring out and all-looking at. Come on.

It really is awesome that Archmaester Ebrose doesn't expel Sam from the Citadel. As prolonged as the Xerox equipment is up and jogging, Sam should be all excellent.

Jaime Lannister really sends his regards to Robb Stark. Nice of him not to hold grudges.

Whew. That was a stretch, y'all!

See you upcoming week when with any luck , anyone picks Gray Worm up in a Jeep, Bronn stitches Randyll Tarly a lanyard for his broadsword, and Varys would make a mate who doesn't operate about vaguely forecasting his doom. Really should be fun!

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drlindamilesblogs-blog · 8 years ago

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Navigating Through Emotional Upheaval: From Prejudice to Peace

Do you cling to grievances?

Do you harbor abusive, negative, or otherwise toxic thoughts against your partner—or anyone else?

Do you marinate in perceived slights? Do you feel yourself helplessly inclined to wallow in hurt feelings even when a part of you suspects that your perceptions may not indeed be well-rounded or correct?

PREJUDICE SHATTERED, LOVE UNLEASHED

In her seminal novel Pride and Prejudice, the beloved 19th century English novelist Jane Austin explores the damage that can result from too much egoism or—as the book title itself insinuates—prejudicial thinking.

The protagonist of the novel, Elizabeth Bennett, is a young spunky woman who, being the second of five daughters in a relatively poor but upstanding British family, has the “nerve” to desire to marry for love. Acclaimed throughout the novel for her good-natured impertinence, wit, and social intuition, Elizabeth nonetheless falls prey to her prejudices concerning Mr. Darcy, a wealthy gentleman who slights her at a ball when he refuses to dance with her. She later overhears him saying some rather derogatory comments about her, further adding insult to injury. Her pride is offended by his ego and snobbery, and she promptly slams the door to a future relationship.

“I have faults enough,” Darcy vouches for himself later, within Elizabeth’s presence, “but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for it. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself, my temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.”

In time—spoiler alert!—Mr. Darcy actually finds himself attracted to Elizabeth and tries to make amends. He proposes marriage to her, only to be confronted by her with examples of his pride and snobbery. To his credit, Mr. Darcy is able to take stock of his effect on others and indeed does make amends. Ultimately, Elizabeth is forced to confront her own closed mind, prejudices, and her unwillingness to forgive him. Only when they both examine their own personal foibles and overcome them can they clearly acknowledge and appreciate one another, and can then envision a future together. Mr. Darcy proposes again; this time Elizabeth accepts.

“‘Your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.’

‘And yours,’ he replied with a smile, ‘is willfully to misunderstand them.’”

-Pride and Prejudice

NOW

Pride and Prejudice examines the everyday biases and prejudices that are both innate to the human condition and further emphasized by societal and cultural conditioning. Jane Austen breathes to life a colorful cast of characters who grow through the examination of their own faults and fall-outs, revealing how true character development can only happen through self-analysis, forgiveness, and love. As Darcy and Elizabeth discovered, we all have the choice to break through old stereotypes and biases, and to subsequently liberate ourselves and embrace those around us. We have the power to align ourselves every day with our personal chosen values.

The NOW strategy, as applied here, can enable us to do this…

Notice. It’s important to notice and acknowledge our personal strengths and weaknesses. “Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone” applies in every scenario—especially regarding relationships. Darcy and Elizabeth would have never been able to cultivate or maintain their love without self-examination.

Opportunities. Although they certainly did not understand this initially, the moment when their paths crossed was a huge crossroads for both Darcy and Elizabeth. They had the opportunity to grow upon meeting each other. In relationships, as in any circumstance of our lives, we always have the choice to become either better or bitter.

Within. Darcy and Elizabeth had to wrestle with their own demons before approaching each other with clearer minds and open hearts. There’s always room for improvement, they say, and self-improvement is the biggest room in the house. Clearing out toxic energy makes way for positive emotions and healthy attitudes.

THE PATH TO MINDFULNESS

A 2004 University of North Carolina study of “relatively happy, non distressed couples” showed that couples who practiced mindfulness saw notable improvements to their degree of “relationship happiness”. In addition, they experienced improved and healthier levels of “relationship stress, stress coping efficacy, and overall stress”. This is because mindfulness is a conscious practice that fosters compassion for one’s self and for others.

We’re human; conflicts are an inevitable part of life’s journey. In a relationship where two individual characters must compromise and collaborate together in constant close proximity, it’s natural that we won’t always see eye to eye with one another. Imagine such an instance, when your stress or negative emotions are triggered by something your partner says and does (and by your ensuing reaction).

Anger is an immediate response and bitterness is the path; These emotions call forth reactions instead of principled responses. So many regrettable thoughts and actions happen in such moments. I once did a talk in a bookstore and noted that the phrase “Sticks and stones may break our bones but words will never hurt us” was in accurate—thoughtless and cruel words can cause lasting damage, leaving emotional scars that fester long after broken bones have been healed. There was a songwriter in the audience named Sarah Malcom; she subsequently wrote a song entitled: “Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, But Words Can Break My Soul.”

Instead of holding on to this negativity, you can consciously choose to behave differently. Let’s visualize it together. Picture yourself in that heated moment when you are flooded with anger, resentment, and judgment. What if you were able to feel and acknowledge those emotions without reacting destructively toward yourself or your partner?

Remember that you don’t need to be physically or even verbally abusive to be violent. Even thoughts can be destructive, especially because they are inadvertently reflected in our attitudes and behaviors. For instance, you will become withdrawn and critical during an argument when you’re thinking toxic thoughts. The other person’s negativity feeds off yours, and vice versa, and before you know it you’ve probably both said or done regrettable things.

Practice observing your brewing emotions and thoughts without getting caught up in them. And instead, why not strike when the iron is cold? Let yourself cool down and cool off, and share your feelings and thoughts when you are ready and are capable of clarity and compassion.

You won’t regret it.

“Prejudice of any kind implies that you are identified with the thinking mind. It means you don’t see the other human being anymore, but only your own concept of that human being. To reduce the aliveness of another human being to a concept is already a form of violence.” –Ekhart Tolle

PRACTICE

Imagine that you are on a sailboat in the ocean, and navigating these waves is the course of life. No matter how well you adjust the sails or gun the engine, you’ll inevitably be blown off course sometimes. The most capable fishermen and sailors understand that sometimes the best thing you can do—or the only thing you can do—is to simply ride out the storm. Let the feelings blow through you and then pass. Ride out your mental storm. It’s just a cascade of chemicals, you know, based on fear. These are just waves that wash over you. Haven’t you noticed that it’s much easier to stay afloat when you relax your body rather than when you tense up and panic in the water?

Embrace the storms, then, on your journey. Don’t resist them, but don’t let yourself drown within their drama either. Keep yourself grounded with these mantras:

Storms always pass. There is no need to panic or fear.

Ride out the storm. Feelings blow through me… feelings blow out of me…

Later I will analyze the storm. Now I need only observe it. Now I will hang on and pull through.

Later, you will have the clarity of mind to sit down and better analyze the storm, and to understand what caused it. You can also discover the lessons you learned by observing the storm: what feelings and resistance did you notice? What helped you pull through? How could you make this transition easier in the future?

Use the storm as an opportunity to gain new skills to temper your emotional upheavals. Above all, remember that storms are a part of life, but you have the power to navigate your way through them. You will always return to calm clear skies.

“Obstacles do not block the path; they are the path.” –Anonymous

#Dr. Linda Miles #Linda Miles #Dr. Linda Miles Books #Linda Miles Health Adviser #Linda Miles Blog #Dr Linda Miles Blog #Change Your Story Change Your Brain #Linda Miles Book #Mindfulness Rewrites

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