#what is in reality just the third of the four parts I had to divide part 3 into

[thecandywrites]

Zorroku and Peaches Part 5

That is really, the third part of part 3. Because part 3 is ENOURMOUS. There’s still a part four to part 3! People reading this right now are going- Wait! This isn’t what you originally put in these different parts! But I’m adding a LOT of new fun and tragic backstories! Also some Earth History to give this more depth and realism. Also face claims! So, of the three babies in the middle. Top left corner- Ori, under her is YakYak, look at that hair! Yalak and Grat’s son and that Hunky Baby is one of Silug’s sons. But also this black and white picture in the bottom right is to show how tiny Ori is when Peaches first meets her. For reference, that is a newborn, and Ori is supposed to be three months old at this point and was supposed to also at least double in size by then. So obviously, little baby Ori is very sick. And our reader is here to save her life. 

Part 5

“Hey, Glasha, could you please help get my tent flap, would you?" You requested with a giggle of your own as she helped you into your own tent where Razor was still happily chewing down on his horse steak.

"Ok, everyone on the couch." You urged and they obeyed before you sat at your new desk and got some paper and a quill and an ink well and got ready to write some correspondence.

"You can stay and hang out if you want." You offered to Glasha, wanting to keep some company just in case you got any visitors in the form of Yotul and her sons who didn’t like you, you'd have a witness to whatever would happen.

"Well actually I was going to go get some snacks for the ravens, but when I come back I'll hang out with you." Glasha offered before she quickly left and tried to get as many scraps left over from dinner together as she could. 

Then she returned with a bowl of them before she pulled up a chair across from the couch where all the ravens were perched on various cushions and such when they weren’t outright playing on the furniture. And the others were outright wandering around and inspecting the tent themselves. She fed the ravens as you called them each by name over to your desk to take the messages in the little holders off the raven's legs to read them, and then write down your reply on the back. You talked to the ravens and they talked back like parrots. 

Glasha was completely tickled to witness and giggled even more. Especially when they talked to her too and said 'thank you' to her for feeding them, before talking to her the way they talked to you. You insisted to them that she was a friend to them as they hopped up on her lap and shoulders and arms and soaked up her affections in the form of pets and scratches, the same way they often laid on their back to get tummy scratches from you with one hand while your wrote from the other.  

"So what do they say?" Glasha asked curiously as she nodded over to the correspondence.

"They're all asking the same thing, ‘if your family has mistreated me yet’." You answered honestly as you soon got tired of writing the same thing over and over again.

"And what's your answer?" Glasha asked cautiously.

"The answer is of course 'no'. I mean Yotul doesn’t like me, and I completely understand her feelings towards me. Some of your brothers hate me so much they refuse to talk to me. But that's fine by me. If they keep their distance, it would be ideal and what I would prefer them to do." You answered honestly before you cooed to the ravens. 

"No, they haven't mistreated me at all! They've all been so good to me! Yes they have!" You cooed to ravens in the same cooing tone you would use with an infant. You pet the ravens affectionately as they soaked up your affections like a sponge as the others hopped around your tent, cawing 'big tent!' and 'nice tent!' the whole time which had cracked Glasha up when they first started doing that.

"What?! Which brothers?" Glasha gasped in horror.

"Uh well, I'm pretty sure I'd be raped by Winag and Silug if they got half a chance- by the way they keep staring at me like a hungry dog looks at a steak. Yalak, Grushnag and Murnag refuse to say one word to me at all. Which I get and understand. Your father told me I could choose whoever I wanted without asking them. And most, if not all orcs, or at least all the ones I’ve met before today- think and feel that humans are inferior. And I'd be pissed off too if my father agreed to have me married off to people I viewed as inferior without asking me first." You explained, feeling you could be safe with being yourself and being blunt and honest with Glasha.

"Ok, you're right about Winag and Silug. They are my half brothers and they look forward to demanding sexual intimacy from their conquests the most. And every bedroom servant they have has been a past conquest that they’ve liked enough to keep around. And they keep insisting it isn’t rape because they pay them all very well for thier “service”. But honestly, I don’t see them giving any of them much of a choice about it. Especially when every time they do it, they get a kid from it. But neither Winag or Silug will marry any of them and none of the servants are orc and no woman in the clan will go near them. They claim they just like to have intimacy with smaller women because they like the feel of it better. Or at least, that’s what I’ve told them tell my father when he’s asked them about it. And my father doesn’t approve of them doing it. And it was only Yotul’s demands that Silug be a Warchief that he was made a Warchief at all, otherwise my father claims that only Zorroku has earned that status. Because otherwise my father had refused to promote them because he didn’t feel that their behavior outside of battle warranted the promotion.” Glasha explained as you nodded and hummed in understanding. 

“Honestly, I don't think they know how to fuck unless it's that way. They love to make their bedroom servants beg for it too so they can get paid to care for themselves. Because Silug and Winag only like to pay for their servants' bare minimum needs like clothing, food and shelter. But anything extra, they have to earn. As if those girls bearing them sons and daughters isn’t enough. Honestly it’s all Yotul’s influence. My mother Sharn, had she lived beyond giving birth to the twins, never would have put up with it. And she refused to have any man even accused of taking a woman without her freely given consent in her tent. And they had better be a full blown woman and not anything remotely girl like. And my mother and my father agreed against not letting such men be kept as a captain or a commander or anything like that in the clan’s army.” Glasha proudly revealed. 

“But that changed when my mother died and Yotul became the Clan Chieftess. It’s like slowly but surely, her influence has seeped into her children, especially her sons and then the rest of the clan. And to hear those servants of Silug and Winug beg to have that intimacy delivered nicely and softly too- makes my skin crawl. Because I know my mother would be rolling in her grave if she knew what was really happening. Otherwise I’ve overheard those poor girls whimper and cry because of how rough my half brothers can be. It's honestly so disgusting. And I would advise you to stay away from them as much as you can and never be alone with them. I mean, they're my half brothers- and they look at me like that sometimes and it's so gross.” Glasha shuddered as she gagged and made a disgusted face. 

“My father doesn’t approve of them and thier lifestyle off of the battlefield. And he’s tried to set the matter right and he’s tried disciplining them but Yotul gets in his way and insists that they never do anything wrong. Because so far Yotul has allowed it because most of them have been human so far, but she insists that they never treat an orcish woman like that. And she has told them that ‘no son or daughter of hers should ever marry a human’ and they’ve listened to her. But because of it, no other orc woman will go near them- because of their overabundance of bedroom servants and overabundance of half orc children. My father has made them all recognize as their children even if they refuse to marry their mothers. And my father specifically makes sure that the ones who have given children are at least taken care of better than the ones who have not. And that all their children are taken care of very well by recognizing them as his grandchildren to the clan and recognizing their mothers as the ones who beared those grandchildren to him. And honestly I think it’s only because he has done this that they stay at all. He treats them and their children with the same love and care he does my sisters in law and all of their children and my other nieces and nephews.” Glasha confirmed. 

“I see.” You nodded in understanding. 

“But where you're wrong is Yalak and the twins- Grushnag and Murnag. None of them hate you. The truth is they're all scared and intimidated by you." She elaborated and you blinked in surprise at that which prompted Glasha to explain.

“Really?” You asked, not quite believing her. 

"So Yalak is naturally really quiet and actually quite shy. Because he likes to watch and observe a lot and try to figure everything and everyone out before he does or says anything. So he's still trying to figure you out by observing you. His wife Grat had no idea he was even interested in her- until he had to outright explain why he was chasing off every guy who was interested in her. Because he secretly loved her and had a crush on her but was too shy to say anything to her. But once she got him to open up, then he wouldn’t shut up unless she shut him up by kissing him. And they have two sons and a daughter now.” Glasha related. 

“I see.” You nodded. 

“Grushnag and Murnag, the twins, they’re my baby brothers. My mom actually died trying to give birth to them because both of them were huge babies. And Yotul had just given birth to Yalak like a few days before. So Yalak and the twins have actually been raised as triplets by Yotul. They're just really shy, even more shy than Yalak ever was. And the twins know they're kinda ugly, and they have low self esteem because of it. And you're beautiful, and they think they're unworthy of you. Because not only are you smart, and clever, and talented, and gifted, but you're really beautiful too. And they're really insecure. They're the ones who picked out your bed and the furs and a few of the interior decorations where Zorroku got the tent and the rest of your stuff that didn't come with you. Nar got you the desk and all the books though. Because he insisted that you have a library. But the clan as a whole doesn’t usually go after books and usually the books are discarded when whole chests are taken. So he collected all the ones that the horde had.” Glasha explained as she pointed to them. 

“And Grat was the one who insisted on you having as many dressers and armoires as she does. Because again, she’s a Marfu Daughter, just like you. And when she married Yalak, she wasn’t used to the way my father treated her or especially the way Yalak treated her. Because he has adored her for so long and once he was free to show his adoration, he very quickly and easily overwhelmed her with gifts. Like just daily, almost hourly gifts. So my father asked her and my other sisters in law to help you not feel so overwhelmed. Which she very happily agreed to as did all the others. Especially since Grat and all the others came from other clans too. And none of them were used to women being treated so well as my father demands women be treated well in his Clan. Because he claims that ‘a man who can not treat his wife with honor, has no honor himself’. And she and the others were shocked when you brought so few clothes with you. So she made sure that you got a lot of dressers and armoires and fabric to make new clothes with.” Glasha explained as you were relieved when that part of your dream was false. Because you had met Grat and she was awesome and just as much of an easy and quick friend to you as Glasha was becoming and had hugged you and called you ‘Marfu!’ when she got to greet you and made sure to point out all the other Marfus in the family who greeted you just as happily and warmly and really made you feel welcome and they helped this whole situation feel much more normalized and more real instead of surreal. As if Crowthu and his sons regularly just rode all night just to find daughters in law. 

“So the twins will be doing the furs of your bucks and wolves for you. Because they're awkward talkers, but they're better at showing their affection by doing nice things for people. They really are nice and they don’t have any bedroom servants. But either of them could get just about any other woman in the clan if they wanted to. And the few who have expressed an interest in them, they feel like it’s not genuine. And that it’s only because they’re the sons of the warchief and the last sons of my mother that they get the interest at all.” Glasha revealed. 

“I see.” You nodded in understanding as you made a mental note to make an effort with them and at least draw them out and help them with their self confidence the way you had with Nar and Shuzug. 

“But you have to get under all the awkwardness first. And if you have genuine feelings of affection for them, make sure to tell them and show them that explicitly. Even if it’s friendship. They’ll appreciate anything and everything. Especially since Yotul has usually saved her heart and her affections for her own sons she gave birth to. So while she nursed them, she didn’t quite love them the way she loved Yalak. And the twins have always felt like they’ve been a burden to her and they never wanted to be a burden to anyone. And while they’ve struggled with a lot of guilt, because my mother died trying to give birth to them. My father has made sure to never tell them that he ever blamed them for her death. And that women die from childbirth all the time and it was just as honorable and glorious as dying on the battlefield. And he has always told them that they were the best and last gifts my mother ever gave him. And just like with Zorroku, he has made special efforts with them and my other sisters that my mother Sharn gave birth to.” Glasha explained, her voice going soft with a bittersweetness in her eyes. 

“I take it your father still misses Sharn.” You ventured. 

“He does, every day. He claims that I look just like her and that’s why he has chased off every man who has ever taken an interest in me and my other full sisters, because he feels I and my full sisters are the last but biggest pieces of her left. And he still tries to honor her and her memory by honoring us. He always gives me, and my full sisters the very best in everything he ever takes in raids. He makes sure we are always fed until we’re stuffed, always clothed in the best fabrics and the best shoes and the best…everything.” Glasha related. 

“My father worked so hard to earn my mother’s love, and respect and loyalty. And he gave those things so freely to her. She was from the Mountain Blizzard Clan. They’re a clan known for their ice blue skin and white, light blue and light green hair, like I have. That clan always keeps itself up in the mountains. And they actually met by a total accident on a hunting trip when my father’s hunting party and my mother’s hunting party were hunting the same grounds. She was hunting from the back of an giant ice dog. A breed that the orcs in the mountains have bred to be especially large, large enough to ride. And fast enough, even when pulling a load, that they could get from one side of the mountain to the other in just a day. And the moment my father saw her, he did everything in his power to do whatever he could to court her.” Glasha sighed dreamily at the memories of her parents telling her all about it. 

“It’s why we have so much pink salt from the mountains. Because it’s the one clan my father happily does trade with as often as we can, and never raids on. I have a grandmother and all kinds of cousins and uncles and aunts in that clan that are my mother’s mother, and her old brothers and sisters and their children. And the reason our clan treats women so well is because in the Mountain Blizzard Clan- women are seen as very magical creatures, owed every respect and dignity because they are the ones who bear and nurse offspring and keep them warm and are the spiritual heads of the family. Men just hunt and kill food and get furs. But women turn those furs into clothes and take a house and turn it into a home. It’s women who can take those kills and make real food out of them. It’s women who give men a reason to live and a reason to get out of the bed to do anything. It’s women who provide children and provide a man with a family and help him grow spiritually and draw closer to the gods. And it’s women who can never be replaced.” Glash revealed as she couldn’t help but get misty eyed just talking about it. 

“And it’s women like Yotul who tear down everything that women like my real mother build up. She is the only one in the entire clan who doesn't like you. I don't know what her problem is. Just ignore her, she'll get over whatever problems she has and it’s not on you to prove her wrong assumptions about you either. I mean her problems have to be with humans in general. Because she has no reason to be that hateful towards you. She shamed and dishonored my father and the rest of the family and the clan by not giving you a proper greeting. And by just outright stealing your spice without asking. And you should be getting an apology from her sooner than later.” Glasha insisted. 

“It’s ok if she doesn’t apologize to me. I understand her reasons for not liking me.” You assured her. 

“Well, do you know what they are? Because she won’t tell anyone what they are. All she has said is that ‘if you’re who she thinks you are, you’re dangerous’. Which Arob keeps repeating that you’re not, but she won’t believe my grandma. My grandma told us all that ‘you’re family found’. And Yotul spent all day making sure the tent was spotless, making sure the best incense was burning in all the incense burners.That the best horse was butchered and roasted to perfection and the biggest onions were roasted with it. She was wearing one of her best dresses and she was so happy and excited all day. But my father said that the moment you walked in, all her joy and happiness was immediately switched to hate. Why is that?” She asked you. 

“It’s not my place to say. And if she is not comfortable talking about it, I won’t do her the dishonor of revealing anything she wants to keep private. But if she hasn’t talked about it. Please don’t push her. She has every reason to hate all humans. And she has every reason to hate me if that’s what your grandmother told her. Now I can say, I am not who she probably thinks I am. And I do not mean this family and especially Yotul any harm whatsoever. But I will not force her to see that. All I can do is prove who I am over time so that she can see it for herself with her own eyes. But until she’s ready to know who I really am. I’m not going to try to convince her. And right now, if I tried, she’d probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. And that’s ok. I’m content to give her all the time and space she wants and needs. She deserves that. And she deserves to have her feelings validated and respected. Even if she wasn’t a Clan Cheiftess. Even if she was just a clan member, she deserves that much.” You gently insisted. 

“But that shouldn’t excuse her rudeness.” Glasha frowned and shook her head no. 

“Please, just, I know you’ve only just met me. But trust me on this. When and if you ever find out about the matter, you’ll understand. But only when Yotul is ready to discuss it herself. Not a moment before then.” You urged her as your pen was already writing Bula about Yotul because if anyone needed to know the truth, it was Bula, Khagra’s wife and Clan Chieftess.  

“Well, still, my father told us about the special conditions you have. Which is fine, it shouldn't have been a problem to begin with. But I understand that you've met and hosted almost every clan on the continent and even some farther than that. And every orc clan is different and if all you knew about us was our reputation, I could see where you would draw certain conclusions..." Glasha explained.

“Well I’m happy to be wrong. But I am curious about how Yotul came to be in this clan and came to be it’s Clan Chieftess.” You prompted. 

"Oh, um about 20 years ago she was traded into this clan from the Yellow River Clan. But she doesn't speak their language well, she's taught us Yowl and often slips into Yowl when she's angry or upset or worried. But I don't know who else speaks Yowl so maybe she was traded to them from somewhere else. I don't know. She's like an onion, she has many layers of...I don't know, she's a hard woman to get to know because she just doesn't like to talk about herself or her past before coming into the clan." Glasha answered and you nodded in understanding.

"Could you tell me more about about your mother?" You asked her hopefully.

"Oh my mother was my father’s Warcheiftess under his father when his father was the Clan Chief. And when my grandfather stepped down, and appointed my father as Clan Chief, that made her his Clan Chieftess. She was his first wife and she’s the mother to Zorroku, myself, my sister Morn and the twins. But again, she died giving birth to the twins. And when my mother died and Yotul immediately took on the twins, that's when Yotul became Clan Chieftess and adopted Zorroku, myself and Marn too. And my father has never remarried again." Glasha informed you as you realized she had an accent you recognized.

"Your mother was Sharnarrah The Magnificent of the Mountain Blizzard Clan wasn’t she?” You concluded. 

“Yes! You knew her?” Glasha asked excitedly. 

“I didn’t know her personally, but I knew of her. Is your name really just Glasha or is that short for something else?” You asked her. 

“It’s Glashnarah!” Glasha revealed excitedly as her mother’s native tongue’s accent became thicker and put such a beautiful accent to her speech as your eyes got bigger in realization as you realized what Sharn had done. 

“If you’re Glashnarah, then would Marn be short for Marnasta?” You asked as you tried not to cry again but kept your tone light and curious. 

“Yes!” Glasha practically squalled. 

“And Zorroku is actually Zorroushku?” You asked, not quite wanting to believe the coincidence.  

“Yes!” Glasha nodded excitedly. 

“And the twins names are Grushnaga and Murnagah?” You asked. 

“Yes! How did you know that?” Glasha asked in awed wonder. 

“Your mother was Sharnarrah The Magnificent, so named because she rode a white major wolf named Lightning who was just as white as the snow and especially large. And she was both a magnificent beauty and a magnificent warrior and protector of all women and children. She was the most beautiful warrior of the whole clan. I know of her, because when the Mountain Blizzard Clan came and made an alliance with us, or at least with the Black Wolf White Rock Clan and specifically with Khagra's father for that same pink salt from the mountains. Khagra did everything he could to woo her. Even though he wasn't of age yet and already had his Clan Chieftess, waiting to grow up and mature to be ready to be married too. My mother, Regina, was one of Shanarrah’s servants, Shanarrah’s mother Jaseen saved my mother when she was a girl, and helped raised her, almost like she was one of her own. And my mother fell in love with my father and stayed in the Black Wolf White Rock Clan with him, much to Jaseen and Shanarrah’s disapproval. But my mother has always remembered her really well and has always spoken of her in awed reverence and my full name is Belladonna, I’m named after Shanarrah’s favorite flower because not only is it a beautiful flower, but it was deadly, just like my mother claimed Shanarrah was. How did your father manage to woo Sharnarrah?" You asked in awe.

"Oh he got her a herd of silvery white draft horses once her wolf, Lightning, died. And he taught all of them to take a rider and all of them to obey the same commands my mother was used to giving Lightning." Glasha revealed and you nodded in understanding.

"So how well do you speak Ragash?" You asked in Ragash, the native dialect of the Mountain Blizzard Clan and Glasha visibly lit up brighter than the sun and practically bounced in her seat and started going on and on and started talking so fast you could barely keep up with her as you finished up your correspondence and simply listened in amusement.

“That’s how you’re family found! Your mother knew mine! You speak Ragesh! Oh my father is going to be so happy!” Glasha squealed in delight before urged the ravens to go home while Glasha and yourself continued to talk and get to know each other better, using Ragesh which was your mother tongue because it was your mother’s native tongue as you never thought you’d speak this beautiful language again. 

You realized it must have been fate to bring you here and to bring you to Crowthu and his children by Sharnarrah and while you were heartbroken that she had passed. This felt just as wonderful when Sharnarrah’s brother’s came to do trading in the clan and talked with your mother and you and your siblings because Jaseen was so hurt by your mother’s choosing your father over her that she refused to leave the mountain until your mother would “come home” to her. But your mother had a family of her own and her own place with Khagra and his family and his clan and insisted that she was just fine where she was.

But Jaseen often asked about you and what little, meager possessions you brought with you from home had been gifts by your adopted grandmother Jaseen who you had never met. Jaseen insisted on not giving you anything too big or too rich because she didn’t want Khagra or his family or anyone else to take it from you. And when you had been technically made a Borgan, you had been invited to come to her and her clan. But by then, you were too close with Khagra and his family to do so. You wanted to find a way to send a message to Jaseen and her family to tell them where to find you now. And to come to see you since you doubted you were free to go and see them because Crowthu did trade 32 servants for you and their weight in pink salt and adopted you as his daughter. One you doubted he’d be ok with letting go just as he secured you. 

“How often does the Mountain Blizzard Clan come here or does this clan go up to the mountain to do business?” You asked her. 

“Oh our winter grounds are at the base of the mountain that the Mountain Blizzard Clan calls home. I can send a message tonight to them to tell them that you’re here. They will come as soon as they can. I had no idea your mother was so close to them. They will be delighted to know that you’re a Marfu daughter here.” Glasha insisted. 

“Thank you.” You thanked her before she beckoned you to her tent and immediately wrote a note to her grandmother and all of her uncles and aunts and told them that ‘Balladonna, daughter of Regina was now her father’s latest Marfu Daughter from the Black Wolf White Rock Clan and that you wanted to see them and speak with them as soon as they were able to and that you spoke Ragesh fluently’. Once she was done with the message, she put it onto a messenger pigeon and sent it off to the Mountain. 

“There, they’ll get that by sunrise for sure and we’ll hear back from them by midday at the latest.” Glasha giggled gleefully before she hugged you. 

“Oh it’s like I’m hugging another sister! This is awesome! I’m so happy you’re my family found!” Glasha almost cried as she happily hugged you as tight as she dared. 

“Likewise Glashnarrah.” You cooed back to her. 

"So, anyway, back to my father’s clan. In the Thunder Herd Clan we have four meals a day. A late breakfast, because we usually like to stay up late and sleep in late, lunch, dinner and the midnight meal, which is our biggest meal of the day, think of it as a second dinner and it's the one that’s being prepared right now," Glasha said. 

“Well let’s go.” You urged her before you followed Glasha into the kitchen tent as she brought you around the kitchen itself and showed you what was what and what they had to work with. You began to find your bearings again as well as show you the small mountain of peaches from home. Then you pulled your ingredients out from your food satchel. And showed your new 'sisters' what you've brought and what you used to make that spice blend you made earlier. 

Suddenly Zorroku and his brothers came into the kitchen, carrying a cut up horse carcass and put it on a leather blanket in the middle of the cooking tent and at least with the skin off, it kinda of looked like a cow....with a giant neck... and a horse's head…. But thankfully the hooves and everything below the knee had been cut off already. You put the back of your hand to your mouth to keep from vomiting at the thought of a baby horse being slaughtered even though this was clearly an adult. You could only hope that it had lived a good life and that its death was as quick and painless as possible.

"Did you sleep ok Peaches?" Zorroku asked you hopefully and you were surprised to hear him speak to you again.

"Yes, thank you Zorroushku." You answer as you nodded and tried to smile bravely in the face of a dead horse on the floor in front of you. 

“How did you know my full name?” Zorroku asked in awed wonder as his other siblings, except for Glasha froze and stared at you with the same, wide eyed wonder. 

“My mother is Regina, she was a servant of Shanarrah The Magnificent and she grew up in the Mountain Blizzard Clan. But your mother’s mother- Jaseeneh, who when my mother left that clan, was the Clan Chieftess, took my mother in when she was very young and raised her as her own and my mother was close to both Clan Chieftess to Jaseenah, your mother Shanarrah, her brother’s Dastaneh, Justinough. My full name is Belladonna Gardiniah, both were your mother’s favorite flowers, not because they were just beautiful and have beautiful scents, but Belladonna is especially poisonous and deadly. My twin sister’s name is Lillyannah Valleyah, also a beautiful but deadly flower. My baby sister’s names are Hyacintha and Callalilliannah, Jaseeneh’s favorite but also deadly flowers. My brothers are also named Dastaneh and Justinough after Shanarrah’s brothers because they were like brothers to my mother also. We call them by simply Dastan and Justin though, and I’m simply Bella, Lilly, Scintha and Calla. My father is a twin, thus my brothers, myself and all my sisters are twins too.” You explained in Ragesh as Zorroku’s eyes and his siblings eyes got bigger and wider as smiles bloomed on their faces. 

“So it would make sense that your mother named you Zorroushku,” you nodded to him before you turned to his siblings. 

“Glashnarrah, Marnausta, Grushnagah, Murnagah.” You listed off as you made sure to look each of them in the eye as you said their names as the boys were already quickly washing the blood off of themselves. But the moment you started speaking perfect, fluent Ragesh to them, they turned to you and came closer but you didn’t feel as if you were being surrounded in an attacking sense but soon encompassed before they all came in and hugged you tight as the twins and Marn were outright crying while Glasha and Zorroku were laughing as you were in the middle of a group hug. 

“Thank you so much for coming! Thank you so much for speaking Ragesh to us! Yotul doesn’t like it when we speak it because she doesn’t and she doesn’t like it that she can’t understand everything we say so we have had to speak either in Pregu, Yowl or the common tongue since Mom died! You speak it so well!” Marnasta bawled into your shoulder. 

“See! That’s how she’s family found! She’s family found to us!” Glasha insisted as Marnausta especially was hugging you the tightest and crying on your shoulder because it felt like having a piece of her mom back as the twins were in a similar state. 

“Hey, as much as I love this, I need to breathe.” You squeaked as the air was literally being squeezed out of you before they let go but stayed close. 

“Sorry.” They all apologized as they wiped the tears from their eyes. 

"If you need or want anything let me know, ok?" Zorroku offered before the twins volunteered the same thing, asking if you wanted the alters to the gods the Mountain Blizzard worshiped to be brought to your tent which you happily accepted before the twins and Marnausta immediately left and got things that their grandmother and uncles and aunts had given them and that they had kept from their mother to bring to your tent to reconnect you to your true roots. 

"Actually I brought you a guitar because you like music so much." Yalak offered as he pushed past Zorroku and presented you with a guitar that was wrapped up in a little blanket as you watched Zorroku's face scrunch up in jealousy which was curious to you.

"Oh wow, uh, thank you," You thanked him graciously as you took it from him, not wanting to offend him by refusing it from him. 

"Uh, I just don't remember Clan Chief Khagra or my father telling you that I played guitar...out loud." You mumbled under your breath as you unwrapped it, realizing it was actually a very fine one.

"Wow, this is exquisite, thank you." You thanked Yalak earnestly, this was so surreal to you as you put the guitar's strap over your shoulder and tested the chords before Nar made his way to you too.

"But I brought you a little one." Nar said as he came forward and offered you something else. Being the youngest and the smallest of them all, he looked to be about 12 or 13, just reached maturity and his full height. The beginnings of facial hair seemed to bloom on his face too.  

You carefully took the guitar off and set it down on the counter gently and carefully and took what he offered you, it was also wrapped in a nice little blanket and when you unwrapped it, you found a violin case. Inside the case was a very fine violin with its bow and a thing of resin for the bow strings.

"Oh my goodness, it's a violin! Thank you so much! I love the violin." You beamed, this was...so not real. But as much as you wanted to panic, you kept repeating the words ‘marfu daughter’ inside your head as an explanation. 

You put the violin to your shoulder as they all looked at you curiously as you ran the bow over the strings. You began to play a melody before they all lit up as they recognized what you were playing, a very old lullaby that Sharn always sang before you moved from that one to another old lullaby Yotul always sang to them in her native dialect Yowl. Nar left and fetched his mother who came into the kitchen tent and stared in shock as you played the song so well. She hadn't heard it played on a violin in a long time, since she herself had never learned the instrument.

"Where did you learn that song?!" She demanded as tears welled in her eyes and you dropped the violin to your side and hid it behind you to save it from her smashing it. Since it seemed she was now angry with you as if you had been caught doing something wrong. You watched as her sons and daughters moved between the two of you to keep her from getting close to you.

"You are Yotul Koddeth of the Great Typhoon Breaker Clan from the high North. Your mother is Veggo Koddeth and your father was The Great and Mighty Clan Chief Krul Koddeth, a family name that had lasted four generations. He was a king among Clan Chiefs and it was he who had taught Clan Chief Khagra and his father the art of alliances over war when Clan Chief Khagra was a very young boy.” You began to explain as Yotul was too stunned to argue with you when her mother and her father’s name was spoken with so much reverence on your tongue. She couldn’t be upset by your praise of her father. Or that you were speaking Yowl so beautifully and fluently. 

“But it wasn’t until Clan Chief Krul Koddeth was betrayed by his brother and your uncle Tangir The Bone Splitter who earned that name by splitting your father's skull in front of you and your sister and your mother because she had not given your father any sons yet. And just because your mother had not gotten the chance to give your father sons- was the biggest reason your piece of shit uncle had for overthrowing your family’s dynasty. Especially since he had three sons but by three different women, all of whom were human. And their own jealous hunger for power over your mother- pushed them to push Krul to muder his own brother despite not having the blessing from his father or anyone outside of his own warband. Since he had not even been promoted to Warchief. Only leader of a warband. He then must have sold you off, until you came into the Yellow River Clan before you were then traded to the Thunder Herd Clan. But that is all anyone here knows of what has happened to you since your father died and you came to be here.” You explained. 

“But after that piece of shit Tangir sold you, your uncle sold your sister Bula to Khagra as a wife when he was only six and she was only five so you must have only been seven when you were sold. Your own mother was sold as Khagra’s family’s babysitter and caretaker and medicine woman. It is your mother and sister who taught me your mother tongue Yowl. It is they who have taught me your culture and this song and many other songs and legends from the Great Typhoon Breaker Clan and so many seafood dishes. Even though seafood is hard to come by inland. I played this song, hoping to remind you that you are not alone. And that your past, even as hurtful as it has been- is important and should be embraced rather than buried. Just because of your piece of shit uncle and his family. Your family is not forgotten and lives on and is thriving!” You announced as Yotul gasped softly but began crying tears of joy to hear it as she slowly weaved through her children to get closer to you to hear everything you would say. Not wanting to miss a single word. 

“I know that Crowthu’s mother has told you that I am ‘family found’. And I know when you first saw me and saw that I was human, I know that you must have assumed that I was a descendant of your waste of orcish flesh uncle. But I can say with a clean conscience and full faith that I am of no relation at all to him. Because not one of them has remained alive- since Khagra claimed Bula as his wife. And his wedding present to her was to put Tangir and all of his wives and all of their offspring to death. So that only your father’s bloodline has survived and will walk on the ground and bless it with it’s presence. Khagra himself has seen to it and was his first act as Warchief. And Bula is his one and only wife and was his Warchieftess when he became a Warchief for his father. And then when his father and the entire clan appointed Khagra as Clan Chief, Bula became his Clan Chieftess and she is the most revered woman in the clan, the strongest and most powerful in the clan. The most amazing, and wonderful in the clan. And Khagra drapes her with as much luxury as he can afford and loves every child she has ever bore him, no matter the gender because she and all of their children are his most precious possessions. To the point that he happily let me go to an unknown clan, just to keep Bula and their family in safety and in peace at home. And I am so blessed he did because this was the only way for me to find you. It is you who is Clan Chieftess Bula’s- family found. It is you who is Dowager Clan Warchieftess Viggo’s- family found. Clan Chief Khagra has no other children other than the ones Bula has given him and their children are your own nieces and nephews! Clan Chief Khagra does not even take female slaves for himself just to protect all of his affections to keep them purely for his most beloved wife. He wears them as his armor for his heart, mind and soul.” You earnestly revealed, a proud smile on your lips as you knelt on the floor and bowed your head respectfully. But you felt it was now or never for you to tell her the truth. 

“I have helped your sister birth your nieces and nephews. I have cared for them as if they were my siblings and they are my dearest friends in the world, especially the youngest Shuzug. I have even helped deliver your own nieces and nephew’s children, Bula’s own grandchildren and your mother’s great grandchildren. Everything that I know about food, childcare and medicine I have learned from your own mother’s hands and mouth, and your own sister’s hands and mouth. I have helped care for Clan Chieftess Bula and her family since infancy. And knowing about that piece of shit Tangir- I understand your hatred for humans must be because of him. And I understand why you have forbidden your own children from taking a human as a mate. Because Bula has done the same. To guard against the past repeating itself. And I swear on the life of your sister and your mother, their children and grandchildren- that I too will guard against that part of your past repeating for either you or your children, whether you have birthed them or not. Or even for your grandchildren and great grandchildren, may you be blessed to see them some day.” You swore. 

“Even though I am not of your blood, I have been placed in your family. Both your past family and your current one. I know I am unworthy of the honor that is being in your family. Your mother and your sister have never once stopped hoping you had survived and done well and they offer prayers on your behalf every worship day and I have grown up hearing your name and knowing it as well as I have my own. Your mother has remarried, to one of Khagra’s older Warchief’s when his father appointed him. Dowager Warchieftess Veggo is the second wife of Warchief Tatcha. And she remains his one and only wife since he too lost his first in childbirth and she took on his baby. And thus took him and the rest of his children on as well. You now have a half brother and a half sister in the Black Wolf White Rock Clan from Warchief Tatcha. However I don't believe your sister knows that you are now the Clan Chieftess of the Thunder Herd Clan. Because Clan Chief Khagra and Clan Chief Crowthu never mentioned who they were married to and other than Khagra introducing your sister only as his Clan Chieftess, I don’t think Bula recognized any of your sons as her nephews. And I don't know if your own sons recognized their aunt or their cousins. They didn't seem like they did when they met them.” You explained as all of Yotul’s sons groaned when they realized that they were looking right at their aunt and didn’t see her resemblance to their own mother. 

“Now they do.” Zorroku muttered to you with a happy smile to see Silug, Wing, Yalak and Nar groan as realization seemed to hit them like a ton of bricks. 

“But I know your mother and sister will be very pleased to know how well you've done by getting this far. But if you also hate me for other reasons, I understand. Just because I was able to make one good meal, things are being handed to me whereas you've had to work hard for everything you have. Please, understand I have had no choice in this and am trying to make the best out of everything. But with your permission I would like to tell your mother and sister exactly where you, their lost daughter and sister can be found." You bravely professed in Yowl, as you knelt down and bowed your head respectfully.

You were half expecting her to cut it off or for her to call you a liar or that you were actually Tangir’s blood. You could hear small gasps from Yotul’s children who had gathered around you to protect you from their mother as you closed your eyes.  Tears fell from them as you tried to embrace death. You had connected all the dots from everything your new father in law told you and one look at her you knew exactly who she was. Even if she did not want to admit it.

"She's a Clan Chieftess too? Bula is a Clan Chieftess like I am?" Yotul asked in Yowl back. She couldn’t help but laugh in delight as she just couldn't stop smiling while crying tears of joy and relief. It surprised you greatly, having expected to be cut down where you knelt or screamed at for defaming her native tongue by presuming to speak it to her based on her reaction to you earlier. 

"Yes, she has four daughters and had- had, five sons. But the oldest two unfortunately died in the last raid. So now she only has three sons. The middle, who is now considered the eldest, by the name of Grecko, he has two wives, they're twins themselves and both orcs and he has 4 kids, two sets of twins, a set of girls and a set of boys who are almost a year old now, their names are..." You began to list off all her family from the Black Wolf White Rock Clan before she came nearer to you. Yotul’s children warily parting for her before she gently picked you up to stand on your feet before moving your chin to look up at her as she couldn’t stop smiling and couldn’t stop crying either which got you to cry as you continued to talk and tell her about a family which she never knew she had.

"And your youngest nephew, he's ten now, Shuzug, has a penchant for peaches, he can eat a whole bushel all by himself." You finished off before she hugged you tightly and started sobbing and laughing herself.

"Gods I usually hate it when my mother in law is right and I’m wrong. But I am so happy to be wrong about you, my beloved daughter! If Bula called you her daughter I will see you as my own to, if at the very least, my niece. And you are now just as beloved in my heart as my own daughters are. When Arob said I would be getting family back as a daughter in law, and when I saw you were human- I did think you were my uncle's child or grandchild that just didn't look very orc. Which was why I was so inexcusably rude to you and I was so scared that you were going to do to my sons what that piece of shit’s bitches did to him! And I am so sorry, I should have asked. I should have let you explain who you really were and the whole situation instead of jumping to the wrong conclusions. I am so sorry! Thank you so much for telling me all of this. I never imagined it would be like this or could be like this. Just for you to tell me about them makes me feel whole and less lonely and closer to them now than I have since I parted from them." Yotul cried happily as she was almost squeezing the breath out of you again. Glasha took the violin and its bow from your hands so you could hug her step mother back fully.

"Next time your husband goes there, go with him. They'll all be very happy to see you again." You offered as you hugged her back as tight as you could.

"You and your sister look a lot alike, you'll have to forgive me if I call you by your sister's name by accident." You admitted. 

That got Yotul to laugh and her kids to relax before they went to their father and reported how you had revealed you were family found to Yotul and why she hated the sight of you because you were human and what past you had uncovered. Crowthu felt like an ass for being so hard on Yotul without letting Yotul explain her reaction either. 

Then Glasha revealed to her father and her grandmother your connection to her own mother, Sharnarrah. And the fact that you also spoke Ragash too and guessed all of their full names correctly. Crowthu literally cried at hearing that. You were family returned to all of them. And he felt closer to being whole since Sharn's loss.

"I would be ok with that. Please tell Bula and my mother where I am." Yotul chuckled. 

“Ok.” You nodded, happy that you had gotten that out of the way. 

"Again, I'm so sorry for being so rude, I honestly thought you were my uncle's granddaughter or something and I'm so relieved you're obviously not. I'm very happy you're here with us now, daughter." She offered as she held your face and placed her forehead to yours. Of course after she kissed it and your cheeks affectionately as the two of you continued to speak Yowl to each other. 

You felt so much relief wash over you and you felt you knew she was telling the truth and that you could trust her and that you were very dear to her. Which made you want to have her dear to you in turn. You could only imagine how Bula would be reacting by now. Bula would most likely be screaming her head off in utter delight and waking the whole clan up just reading your messages. And want to ride at once to

"Actually what you may not know is Tangir was overthrown by not just Khagra, but the effort was supported by your other uncle Wuglat. Who is now the Clan Chief of the Great Typhoon Breaker Clan. Wuglat and Khagra brought back the law of only full blooded orcs could ever be a Warchieftess or Clan Chieftess and be allowed into the family as an equal. And only concubine or lower could ever be allowed to be human or non orc. A law I thought all orcs had accepted and implemented before and after this incident. Which is why I'm shocked I'm here and why your sons are all trying to court me." You confessed.

"Oh, well yesterday I would have agreed with that. But you'll find, you'll be the exception to the rule. And if you look at any of my son’s other human lovers and if you see that they will not do what that piece of shit’s bitches did, then I will give them my blessing and will lift it that law of no humans in the Clan Chief’s mates because if you have sworn on Bula’s life and the lives of her children. I trust you to make good on your promise. And I no longer fear for my son’s and their future on your account. For I can feel and know that you do not mean them harm, or especially me. Because you obviously know the hurt and trouble all of that caused.You are one of us and a full fledged member of this family now. And if you were not a Marfu, I would be demanding for Crowthu to make you one this instant anyway. You'll be treated as such from this moment on, come meet my grand-kids." She invited, before she took your hand and led you out of the kitchen tent into hers where Crowthu and his sons were playing with their grand kids on the floor and was happy and relieved to see you with Yotul and especially to see both of you smiling.

"Oh good, when I wasn't Clan Chief Khagra's personal cook I was their babysitter for their kids and grand-kids." You informed her proudly which she was really thrilled to hear before she went around the room to introduce you to all the kids who you met happily.

“This is Silug’s son, Grog.” Yotul said as she picked up a baby who was wider than he was long as a human woman was holding him and playing with him. 

“And this is Grog’s mother Tiana.” Crowthu introduced. 

“Hi.” You both greeted each other sweetly. 

“Hello there Grog.” You cooed to him as you smiled at him as he simply looked at you dismissively and then looked at his mother and curled into her chest. 

“He’s shy.” Tiana excused. 

“It’s fine, most babies are.” You reassured her. 

"This is Yalak's son, YakYak," Yotul introduced as she picked him up and kissed his super chubby cheeks and handed him to you. 

"Oh my goodness! Look at how handsome and fierce you are!" You cooed to him which got him to laugh and babble to you, you put him on your hip because he was so heavy, even though he was only a year old. He was just so round and had so many rolls which was the supreme sign of health for all babies. His thick straight blue and black hair stuck straight up on top of his head like a natural mohawk. YakYak was absolutely precious, but you couldn't say that about a male baby orc. Handsome was ok, but usually fierce or frightening or something along those lines were the preferred complimentary terms while Yalak beamed proudly that you took to his son readily.

"Which one is his mother?" You asked as you swayed in place to keep him entertained as you tried to match all the girls in the kitchen to the guys since you hadn't seen who was with who yet.

"Grat." Yotul answered and you nodded in understanding as you mentally checked Yalak's name off your list. You weren't especially keen on coming between any couple, especially one that already had children. You didn't particularly want that kind of competition because of the competition that was always palpable between Grecko's wives. So now the options were narrowed down to Zorroku, the twins and Nar. 

"And this fussy girl is Ori. She’s Zorroku's only child. Her mother Medowne died giving birth to her this past winter, so Grat has been nursing her. But she is, as you can see, very fussy." Crowthu offered as he did his best to keep the little girl happy in his arm with a few toys between his fingers on the other hand, trying to distract her and keep her from turning that fussiness into full blown crying. Ori was incredibly fussy and looked extremely small for an orc her age. She looked the same size as a human newborn. You didn’t think orc babies could be so small. She even looked quite sickly which made you furrow your brows in concentration at her. Zorroku had been practicing play fighting with very blunt wooden axes with his older nephews from Silug and Winug while Silug and Winug practiced playfighting with blunt wooden swords with the other boys. But Zorroku’s attention split between his nephews and you. He hoped you would take to his daughter too but stopped and had his nephews practice their skills with each other so he could come over to watch Ori react to you closer. 

"Here, trade." You offered Yak Yak as an exchange as Yotul took YakYak away from you so you could get Ori. 

“Hello Sweetheart, it’s lovely to meet you. Is…Ori her full name or is it a nickname for a longer name?” You asked as you took her and your brow furrowed in concentration as you looked her over, trying to see why she was so sick and so small. 

“Yes, my mother kept repeating the same name when she was dying. Orianna…” 

“Oriannaregina Azalea?” You supplied as you looked surprised yet almost saddened to hear the name as you looked from Ori to Zorroku as your eyes looked just a bit pleading as they began to grow glassy with tears. 

“Yes, do you know who that is? My aunts and uncles simply say that she was a childhood friend of my mothers.” Zorroku asked as you smiled bittersweetly to hear him say that. 

“I know who Oriannaregina Azalea is. That’s my mother’s full name. She simply goes by Regina. My mother was the one that picked out Azalea for herself since she couldn’t remember what her last name had been. Only that her name was Oriannaregina. Jaseeneh always called her by her whole full name though. But Sharnnarrah asked for my mother as she was dying?” You asked as you laid Ori to your chest and swayed in place as you rubbed soothing circles into her back which immediately calmed her despite your heart was going out to this little one that had been unknowingly named after your own mother. You could only imagine how your mother would have wanted to be there. How if she had, maybe Sharnarrah wouldn’t have passed since your mother also missed Sharnnarrah something awful. 

“But you said your mother was my mother’s servant?” Glasha asked. 

“Yes and no. My mother was the first to discover how to grow breadseed from the poles in the mountain tops where the Mountain Blizzard Clan called home. And so she was in charge of planting the seeds and growing the crops. And she found it out by complete accident. But it was because of that, the Mountain Blizzard Clan survived harsh winters when there were a mass movements of peoples settling in the other unoccupied mountains. Thier movement and settling there drove away the natural prey items since the mountain clans’ diet consisted mostly of meat and mountain herbs that naturally grew there. And once my mother was able to cultivate breadseed, they had bread that didn’t need fields in the valleys to grow the wheat.” You revealed. 

“Sharnarrah and my mother grew up together from the time they were children. Sharnarrah’s mother Jaseeneh saved my mother and adopted her as her own and the two were raised as sisters. But to save my mother from being prey to other clans and specifically, other humans, Jaseeneh and Sharnarrah had to call my mother their servant and had to treat her as such in front of anyone outside of their own clan. My mother regrets leaving Sharnnarrah and Jaseeneh and Dastaneh and Justinough, who were effectively her adopted family- for my father. And she regrets that Sharnerrah, nor Jaseeneh could buy my father from Khagra since my father was Khagra’s servant and friend for most of his life. Khagra and his father had hoped if they lured my mother to their clan, Sharnnarah would follow. But Jaseeneh refused to let Sharnnarah come to the clan with my mother. Because Jaseeneh saw my mother as one of her own and in her mind in heart, they had already taken one of her daughters and did not treat her well enough for Jaseeneh’s taste, or Sharnarrah’s. And Jaseeneh was not about to let Sharnnarah do the same and suffer the same and was convinced that if they treated my mother as a slave and a servant that they would treat Sharnarrah the same, no matter how much they tried to say or at least do otherwise in her presence but with just a few words from my mother’s mouth, Jaseen and Sharnarrah knew not to trust a single thing they said because when they weren’t around, Bula was especially fierce towards her because Bula saw my mother as Sharnarrah’s sister and felt the need to be domineering towards her and remind her that ‘because she married a servant of Khagra, that made her a servant too along with all of her offspring’. And it didn’t help that my mother was human and reminded Bula of her own past with her uncle.” You confessed as you just closed your eyes and held Ori and swayed with her as Ori was perfectly happy and content to have you hold her and soothe her as she settled right down and immediately stopped being so fussy in your arms. 

It was probably a good thing you had closed your eyes because the look Zorroku and Crowthu shared spoke of their quiet rage about the matter as even Yotul blushed and looked away guiltily as she remembered how difficult she made Sharn’s life because of her own jealousy and worried about how Crowthu was going to view her sister and her mother over this.  

“Jaseeneh has never once come to see my mother because of how hurt she was that my mother chose my father over her and her family and her clan. Jaseeneh tried to make my mother a Visla, which is their clan’s version of Marfu. But my mother was already in love with my father and would not leave him for anything or anyone. Jaseeneh has never even tried to meet me or any of my siblings. I only know of her through her sons, Dastaneh and Justinough and their families when they come to sell and trade pink salt from thier mountian and we talk and serve as their “translators”. Everything that I have that is important and sentimental to me that I brought with me, has been a gift from Jaseeneh and her family. But she always insisted on not giving me or any of my siblings anything too big or rich because she feared Bula’s jealousy or any of her daughters or daughters in law taking it away from me or my sisters because we were servants after all and of course according to Bula- ‘no servant should have anything greater than their master’. Bula wouldn’t even let my mother have any alters to her gods. My mother and my siblings have tried making small totems of wood to be either worn or placed very discretely in our home but every time Bula has seen them, she has smashed them, and rebuked my mother for worshiping human gods, even though they weren’t human at all, they were Mountain Blizzard Clan gods. But Bula would never hear of any argument and any attempt was always met with severe discipline. And Bula hates it when we speak in Ragesh. She insists that we speak only Yowl or Kitch.” You revealed as you closed your eyes tighter as tears escaped them as Crowthu looked to Yotul who put up her hands in defeat. 

“That’s Bula’s business. I had nothing to do with it. I will never do anything like that to Belladonna. She is free to speak any language she wants and is free to worship who she wishes to, if Dowager Clan Chieftess Jaseeneh tried to make her mother a Visla, I will see her as one too and anything that was Sharnarrah’s that her daughters have not claimed will be hers as well. For I know Sharnarrah would be happy to have her niece back home.” Yotul quickly and readily assured her husband who smiled and nodded before Yotul ordered her servants to get everything that was Sharns that had been put into storage, to be delivered to your tent immediately. 

“I’m so sorry. If Sharnarrah had told me where your mother was, I would have reunited them.” Crowthu apologized. 

“Did Sharnarrah ever tell you where my mother was?” You asked him. 

“No. She never did, even on her deathbed, she wouldn’t say where she was. And no one in the clan has said anything about Oriannaregina. Only that she was once a close friend of Sharnarrah’s.” Crowthu shook his hand as tears came to his eyes at the memory. 

“That was probably to protect my mother and my father and my siblings because if Sharnarrah said that my mother was a sister, you would have no doubt killed us because we were not Mountain Blizzard Clan orcs, just humans, hiding in plain sight as Clan Chief Khagra’s personal servants. But the fact that Sharnarrah spoke of my mother at all, shows she must have forgiven my mother for leaving her, at least a little bit. Sharnarrah, according to my mother, was heartbroken and actually quite bitter when my mother fell in love with my father- to the point she became a servant right alongside him to stay with him. And leaving Sharnarrah and Jaseeneh were my mother’s biggest and deepest regrets. My mother was allowed to pilgrimage to the closest mountain to grow breadseed in the winter. And she could only look from that mountain to the other where the Mountain Blizzard Clan resided. Knowing she was so close but still so far away from them. My mother owed Jaseeneh her life and had repaid it by saving Jaseeneh’s and the rest of the clan from starvation several times. And it broke Jaseeneh’s heart that my mother would choose to love my father more than her, more than Sharnarrah, who was like a sister to her. Even when Jaseen’s other clan members adored my mother and tried to court her, but she did not return their feelings and politely refused their proposals.” You explained. 

“What did my grandmother save your mother from?” Zorroku asked softly before you reached up and you held a handful of your red hair before you went back to soothing Ori. 

“Your mother was born with red hair like you and was treated badly for it?” Zorroku asked with a deep frown as you sniffled and nodded yes. 

“Why? It’s just red hair, it’s not…” Zorroku asked.

“Because red hair was seen as a curse to the people where my mother’s family resided with. They came from an area of the home world that humans came from- four hundred years ago, when the spheres converged. They all associated red hair as being a child of the devils. And they claimed it was ‘red headed devils that brought the plague and then converged the spheres’. And when my mother was born it was a light reddish blonde hair, they took it as a sign that the devils were close and that the blonder the hair got, the farther away the devils were. So while it wasn’t obviously apparent, she was immediately made the object of suspicion by her whole village.” You revealed lowly. 

“But it’s just hair! It’s not something anyone can control.” Zorroku contested as the rest of his family was frowning too because this was the first they were hearing of such preposterous things. 

“But it was just a belief they brought over from the home world. The older my mother got, the darker her hair got and the more pronounced the red was. Especially in the winter when she wasn’t in the sun so much. Because her hair got lighter in the summer when she was out in the sun more. Even though her skin was very white and her skin would turn as red as her hair and then freckles would dirty up her skin. The whole village saw my mother’s freckles as her skin always being dirty. And my birth grandmother tried to scrub her skin raw trying to scrub them off so that she and her family were not seen as filthy and something to be avoided.” You explained. 

“But they’re so cute.” Zorroku blurted out as he argued which got you to smile and laugh through your tears. 

“Then you’re the first to see them and think that way.” You answered him. 

“According to the rest of my mother’s village, they associated every bad thing that happened to the village with my mother, and her family. To the point that when the green plague swept through, they put her on the sacrificial altar to their god. Since it was seen as a sign that the reason the plague came to them was because my mother was left alive and hadn’t been put to death at birth. But Jaseeneh and her clan were hunting in the woods nearby on that day. And when they heard my mother’s screams and her immediate family’s cries and screams, they came upon the scene to see my mother tied upon an alter and her family at her feet, being put to death. Their blood being splattered on my mother and the alter. Jaseeneh was incensed to see a child be put to death. So they interrupted the ceremony. And Jaseeneh cut my mother’s bonds with her own knife and took my mother as her own when she saw that my mother was only a small child and clearly too young and too innocent to be guilty of anything that deserved a punishment of death. And because Jaseeneh was the Clan Chieftess at the time, she ordered for the entire village to be put to death. Since they had already put my mother’s family to death for trying to stop the sacrifice. And they started with my mother’s mother and then her father and had started to kill off her siblings, starting with the eldest ones first, leaving my mother the only one left.” You recounted as more tears came from your eyes. 

“My mother’s father’s name was Zorroushku, and my mother’s- mother’s name was Glashnarra. Her brothers were named Grushnagah and Murnagah, and my mother’s sister’s name was Marnausta. So you are all named after my mother’s slaughtered family. All because they either bore or were a sibling to one with red hair.” You explained as Crowthu and his children felt like someone had just stabbed them through the heart to hear this.

“Fuck.” Crowthu breathed as he didn’t realize the significance of his children’s names, he just thought they were Mountain Bilzzard Clan names. 

“From that day until the day my mother left to marry my father. Jaseeneh saw my mother as her daughter. And Sharnarrah saw her as a sister and her best friend. And for Sharnnarrah to…” Your emotion cut off your words. 

“To say my mothers name. Something Sharnarrah swore to my mother the last time they saw each other and got into the worst fight they had ever gotten into. Sharnarrah insisted that if my mother wanted to be a slave so bad, that that was her choice and that she was going to forget all about her and never speak of her again. And that her name would never pass her lips and told my mother that if she spoke hers, that the gods would bring calamity upon her for not only abandoning her and her family but them too. But for Sharnnarrah to never reveal where my mother was, means that she still loved my mother enough to try to protect her. And my mother will be so heartbroken to hear it, but so proud to have Sharn’s own granddaughter named after her. Oriannaregina.” You cooed to Ori as you kissed the crown of her head affectionately as Yotul, while she had always felt competitive towards Sharn, to know this truth pulled at her own heartstrings as she herself felt so bad for not befriending Sharn herself and making her life hard enough that she missed her friend so much to call her name out on her deathbed. 

Zorroku couldn’t be more offended hearing this. He thought your red hair was so beautiful and so unique. But to hear that other humans thought it was a curse? That made no sense. Orcs loved everything red. Red was the patron color of Zighorh, the god of war. It was meant to show the blood spilled on the battlefield and every orc wore red warpaint when they rode into battle so that if they were wounded, either they or no one else would know until a warrior fell to the ground dead. Red was the color to signify for boys. Red was the color of honor and glory. And you had a head full of red. And it only seemed to awaken his need and want to go raiding, if only to provide more for you. It was such a beautiful shade of red, with deep oranges that reminded him of fires and the flames and of the sunrise and sunset. He needed to prove to you that such a wonderful thing should never be seen as a curse but a blessing! And he was grateful his grandmother put your mother’s village to death. Because if she had not, he would want to raid and destroy such a place himself at sunrise. Because righteous anger was blazing in his veins and in his heart. And he felt he needed to exterminate everyone who thought and felt that way. And from now on he would be watching every human when you were around them because if they even hinted at such a thing, he would make sure they never bothered you, let alone said such lies out loud.

#Zorroku and Peaches #Zorroku and Peaches Part 5 #what is in reality just the third of the four parts I had to divide part 3 into #But aaaahhhh the angst #orc boyfriend #orc husband #medieval orc story #did you see the historical reference to midieval europe's antisemetic views? #Sad but true. #male orc x female reader #male monster x female reader

[archduchessofnowhere]

The Accidental Empress Reading Blog III: Very Belated Final Thoughts

After I brought up Pataki again last night I realized that I never finished to give you my opinion of her Sisi novel, so let’s say goodbye to the year with a final review! I originally had planned to make a detailed commentary of parts two and three as I did with the first part (you can read it here and here), but ultimately I decided to just write my final thoughts without going too much into detail since firstly, I don’t remember every detail of the plot anymore, and secondly, my main problems with this book can actually be boiled down to only two points.

My first major issue was something that I already noted on my previous posts about the novel: the pacing. The book is divided in three parts, each which makes up of about a third of the total length. Part one is set during August of 1853, and covers about four? five? days. I personally don’t think the engagement deserves that many pages, specially when you’re planning to cover Elisabeth’s life up until the Hungarian coronation of 1867: the part dragged on for what seemed like an eternity, and soon I was very bored. We already know Sisi is going to marry Franz, why did we need over a hundred and twenty pages to tell that? Let’s get over it quickly and jump to her being empress please!

… Is what I thought while reading part one, but that ended up being a monkey-paw wish, because from part two onwards the painfully slow pacing turns into INCREDIBLY FAST. The second part covers from September of 1853 until sometime after Rudolf’s birth (the timeline becomes foggy at this point and it’s not really clear anymore in which year we are), each chapter covering about a year. The change is jarringly noticeable: we go from having a detailed day-by-day story to entire months being described in sentences.

And the pacing gets even WORSE in part three, which covers from August of 1862 until the Hungarian coronation. You may be wondering, didn’t the previous part end in 1858? What happened in-between? Well, guess what. WE DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. Part two ends with Sisi’s “flight” from court, which in reality happened at the end of 1860, but in the Patakiverse after Rudolf’s birth. Part three starts with her returning to court after being away FOR FOUR UNINTERRUMPTED YEARS. I won’t go on details on how CRAZY this is: to summ it up, the real Elisabeth was away from court for two years, but she did came back to Vienna in-between her trips, and the last months of her “flight” she spent them within the borders of the empire. And she was always in contact with her husband and updated about her children! What annoys me so much of the four years off-page isn’t the inaccuracy however, but that Sisi comebacks with AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT PERSONALITY, because the years away hardened her and made her more aware of how she can use her beauty for her own ends. A change I would’ve love to see happening ON PAGE! But no, the only thing we learn of Sisi’s years away from court is this:

(Lobkowitz wasn’t even Elisabeth’s Oberhofmeister anymore at this point)

And to add insult to injury, this isn’t even the only time it happens! Because after we get two chapters set in 1862… WE HAVE ANOTHER FOUR YEARS TIMESKIP TO 1866 AAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

Sorry. I just didn’t like the pacing. Let’s move on to my second major issue: this is yet another Sisi story that revolves almost entirely around men.

I’ve complained about this before, but in general I don’t like how in fiction Elisabeth is often reduced to the relationships she had with the different men in her life. We know for a fact that she also had close relationships with many women: her mother, her sisters, her ladies-in-waiting, her daughter, other fellow royal women. So it’s deeply frustrating to me when these relationships are ignored in favor of, for exemple, a fictional affair with a man she was just friendly with. Which is exactly what this novel does.

In the first half of the book Sisi’s entire character revolves around Franz Josef: she starts out as a lovestruck teenager and as the story progresses she slowly falls out of love with him as she discovers that he won’t stand up to his mother for her and that he is cheating on her. During this part Sisi doesn’t have almost any positive relationship with a woman: her sister Helene completely disappears after part one. Her mother only returns a little before the end of the second part (in a very inaccurate scene that I still liked only because it redeemed Ludovika’s character). Archduchess Sophie is a stereotypical evil mother-in-law, Countess Esterhazy is the controlling “governess”, and her two ladies, Countesses Caroline Lamberg and Paula Bellegarde are depicted as scheming women who conspire against Sisi and try to seduce her husband (… what). Needless to say all these characters are incredibly shallow, because the only person that is given a somewhat more nuanced characterization is Franz Josef.

This trope of “every woman is out there to get our super special female protagonist” is already annoying on its own, but here is also accompanied by a lesser known trope that is equally annoying to me: “the only women who are good are the servant characters that have almost no character traits other than adoring our protagonist and serving her loyally”. Sisi has a (fictional) maid called Agata that accompanies her to Vienna, and is the only person who treats her well during the first half. But we know NOTHING of this maid other than she is Polish and she loves Sisi. She is a fictional character, you can give her a more important role if you want!

Meanwhile, the real life people that had important roles in Elisabeth’s life are also turned into this kind of character. Marie Festetics, who entered in service of the empress in 1872, was one of her closest ladies-in-waiting, and while we know that she did adore her mistress, she could also be very critical of her. In The Accidental Empress, Festetics is a lady-in-waiting since 1854, and her role is completely minimal. We are told (specially on the last part) that she is Sisi’s oldest and most faithful friend at court, but they interact so little on-page (and their moments together are always so bland) that it’s hard to buy. Worse of all, however, was the treatment of Ida Ferenczy: she only appears a couple of chapters before the book ends as a maid that Andrássy recommended. While Pataki keeps in her story that Ida was hired to help Sisi practice Hungarian, on page her only interactions with Sisi consist in fetching her things and receiving orders from her. In real life Ida was a gentry girl that amazingly managed to enter court despite her lack of noble ancestry (there is even a theory that she was actually infiltrated by Deák and Andrássy to influence the empress in favor of Hungary), and Elisabeth liked her so much that she CREATED a position for Ida (the reader of the empress) so she could stay in her staff. This is one of the cases in which the real Elisabeth asserted her agency and power in court, which the book completely takes away from her and by doing so destroys her special relationship with Ida!!!

So you remember how I said that in the first half of the book Sisi’s entire character revolves around Franz? Well that’s because in the second half her entire character revolves around Andrássy. Yep, this is one of those stories. I won’t go into details, but honestly it wasn’t even the made up affair what bothered me: it was the implication that Sisi only got involved with the Compromise because she got personally involved with Andrássy. Elisabeth isn’t allowed to have any sort of political ideas on he own, she must be guided, she must be told what to think by the men in her life. This role must always be fulfilled by a man, and that’s why we can’t have Ida Ferenczy or Marie Festetics discussing politics with Sisi, that’s why they are just background servants that only fetch her things and help her cover up an affair while Andrássy gets to be the dashing hero that saves Sisi for her trapping and passionless marriage.

And I’m just tired of this kind of narrative.

If you read until here, thank you! I’m incapable of writing short reviews. All this being say I do plan eventually read the sequel, solely out of an annoying completionist drive and because I’m curious if Pataki cared for and listened to any of the critics she received from people who like the real Elisabeth. Please let me know of you’d like another in-depth sort of commentary or prefer a general review!

#the accidental empress #author: allison pataki #reading blog #book review

[thenon-fictiondays]

Hirano to Kagiura light novel translation 2-2

Chapter 2: Summer preparations.

Part 2

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“About 1-A’s Culture Festival Program”

The bold, sloping letters were written on the blackboard by a class committee member.

The proposals, which were presented in one third of their long homeroom, continued to resemble a festival, with a haunted house, yakisoba, and target shooting. When crepes, buttered potatoes, and shaved ice were brought up, someone cried out “what is this, a date?” in a voice tinged with jealousy.

At that, jeers of “I want a girlfriend” and “must be nice to be able to bring a girl” flew around the room one after the other.

Kagiura thought that the suggestions for a program aimed at women were all off the mark. The images that single guys have of women can sometimes be out of touch with reality.

Due to the nature of all boy’s schools, the number of boys who are able to get girlfriends within one semester is very slim. This is even more so the case when one lives in a dorm and has no way to interact with girls, as is the case with Kagiura.

At the moment, he doesn’t actually want a girlfriend. In middle school, he’d dated someone for just a few months, but he couldn’t get past his nervousness, and the relationship ended on awkward terms.

They had been set up by their peers and became a couple somewhat hastily; she was cute, and Kagiura thought kindly of her, but he’d been too conscious of their relationship to really be able to open up to her.

It was probably around that time. Rather than wishing for someone he wants to spend his future with, Kagiura realized he wanted a relationship like what his parents had.

The relationship Kagiura’s parents have seems more like they’re amicable best friends than a married couple. There are no overt instances of them brimming with devoted consideration for each other, or being lovey-dovey all the time. Given that they have four kids, they’re obviously intimate, but they give one the impression that even if they’d been born the same gender, they would have naturally gotten along.

The dependability that pushes you forward if there’s a path you want to take, and the depths of your heart that make you look forward to the day you return home. A person with whom you can naturally live a gentle, bright life, without you having to try too hard or overexert yourself.

Once Kagiura had become aware that that is his ideal relationship, he’d reconsidered, and decided he didn’t want to date someone if his heart wasn’t in it.

He hadn’t been trying to carelessly date around from the beginning, but having seen that a relationship won’t necessarily go well even if he puts all his energy into it, now he’s just casually waiting around for someone to hold close.

Like his mother, who when drinking tea asks his father ‘do you want some, too?’, or his father, who on an ordinary weekday will stop on the way home and buy his mother’s favorite food.

“So then, does anybody else have anything they want to do? If not, we’ll take a majority vote on the ideas suggested just now.”

The moment the voting begins, an idea flashes through Kagiura’s mind.

“I have one! What about yakitori?”

He wasn’t sure when, but Hirano had said he liked it. He’d probably be happy if he got to eat it at the cultural festival, right?

Kagiura’s cheerful suggestion is met with assenting murmurs of ‘yakitori would be nice’.

“But wouldn’t we have to do food prep?”

“The wholesale supermarket probably sells coolers or something.”

“What should we do about a storage location?”

“It’ll be fine if we divide it up between a bunch of people, right? If they bring it in the morning it’ll defrost on its own.”

“Saucy? Salty? Or should we do both?”

“I wanna eat both…..”

Just like that, the mood has pivoted, appetites for female companionship replaced by appetites for food. High school boys are perpetually hungry. Even after eating breakfast, eating their bentos early, and going out after school to buy food, they still take extra large portions of rice at dinner.

Especially as a member of an athletic club, Kagiura is no exception to the rule, and most of his monthly allowance is eaten up by snacking.

As soon as the majority vote settled on yakitori, the teacher in charge of overseeing the decision suddenly stood up.

“The competition for food items is high to begin with, and for a yakitori stall you would have to set it up outdoors, so there will be mad grab for materials. If you don’t hash out the details, it’ll be quite the struggle. You guys should come up with a back-up plan in case your first isn’t chosen—either way, Kagiura, will you try auditioning for the cultural festival executive committee?”

He hesitates for merely a second. Regardless of whether or not he’s suited for the job, all Kagiura can think about now is Hirano’s joyful expression.

“.....I’ll do it.”

“Kagiura is busy with club activities, so it’d be best if a few more people cooperate with him,” the teacher thinks aloud upon Kagiura’s firm nod.

The one who Kagiura stares at in reaction to those words is Niibashi, who sits in the seat next to him.

Contrary to his twisted phraseology, he is brilliant and meticulous, so if they work together, they’ll be able to prevent careless mistakes and inaccuracies in communications and the documents to be submitted. Given his self-confidence, he’ll probably be good at event planning.

As far as Kagiura knows, he is a capable person, well-suited for negotiations.

“What’s that? You want me to do it? …..I guess it can’t be helped; Kagiura isn’t very good at clerical work, after all.”

Despite his mock-exasperation, Kagiura can tell from spending time with him for the past few months that he’s already looking forward to it.

In a flash, a hand shoots up from the back of the classroom.

“Sensei, how many people can be on the executive committee? If I can hold multiple positions at once I can join.”

“I’ve got some free time,” someone else says as he raises his hand.

In the end, the executive committee of four people—Kagiura as the original proposer, Niibashi as his assistant, and the others—were chosen.

Tomorrow after school is the first convocation date, which seems to be when they will explain the materials and how to fill out the application forms. All four bit their lips when they heard there would also be inspections of facilities and tools, but they are past the point of no return.

The topic of discussion moves on to the next item on the agenda. Because it was explanations of the summer break’s supplementary lessons and practice tests, Kagiura becomes more and more dispirited. Try as he might, he can’t run away from exams.

When he returns to the dorm, he’ll try consulting Hirano about it. Both about the cultural festival, and the practice tests.

Because Hirano’s such a good student, he always gives useful advice rather than just empty platitudes when Kagiura confides in him about his worries involving his club.

Speaking of which—

I wonder what Hirano-san’s class is doing, Kagiura thinks as he closes his eyes.

The image of his smiling face hovers faintly behind Kagiura’s eyelids. He wants to walk around the stalls together, delicious yakitori in hand.

In part because of the too-strong sunlight pouring in from outside, and in part due to imagining a summer festival scene, he pictures him in a yukata.

*****

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Sorry for the long wait, but I'm making up for it with a double update this time~

kono bangumi wa goran no suponsaa- jk jk, this update was brought to you by @jujupanic and @jeizet - thank you both so so much for your support, I appreciate it so much 🥺💖

#let's see if i can post this time without accidentally deleting the whole draft #hirano and kagiura #hirano to kagiura translation #kagihira #sasaki to miyano #harusono shou #hirano taiga #kagiura akira #hirano to kagiura #hirano to kagiura ln

[glamourzombie]

I’ve been sticking to a schedule, which is good because I go back to work on the 1st. And today’s post is a result of said schedule. The Lovely Om Tarot, created by Darshanie Sukhu, is a 78 card watercolour deck (and booklet) featuring gods and goddesses from the Hindu pantheon, as well as mystical beings from, in Darshanie’s words, “the many dimensions that intersect our reality”.

For her, tarot is a process of self-reflection, so her intention for these cards is that they help you to access your intuition so that you can explore different perspectives, communicate with your subconscious and bring in the wisdom of your higher self. The creative process behind the deck is very interesting: she had a vision of brilliant lights emerging from a candle, flooding the room, and forming the Ace of Wands. I took this inspiration and started painting. She continued with the other Aces, opening the elemental energies of the suits, followed by the Princesses (the courts follow the Thoth structure). I feel that this more natural, intuitively guided process (rather than working numerologically) adds freedom and layers to the deck, making the energy of each card very potent and concentrated.

The art style is soft, a feature of the watercolours and the broad palette used, which mixes muted hues, pastels and bright colours as well as playing with the darkness and light of each card, though overall I’d say that, visually, it leans more towards the light. However, as Darshanie says, “it can go very deep into realms of despair and also reach very high into realms of divine vibrations”. I wanted to include this because I feel that on a visual level it looks softer than what it is when actually working with it, in a good way. There are many cultural and mythological elements, mainly from Hinduism, and surprisingly they vibe really well together, and I think it’s mostly because of the clever inclusion of cards that feel more natural, non-theistic or just do not feature characters at all. They just do not clash, but rather talk to each other to create a detailed, layered message, which is the reason why I think this deck really shines with pulls bigger than one card. Btw, the cards are wider than the standard size, and feature a light cool grey border, and a satiny finish.

The companion guide is a 208 page, full-colour book chockfull of information. It includes so much, that I have divided it into four parts to explain it better, starting with a general part with an introduction, a how-to, information on the structure (including a note on reversals), chakras, deities in the deck, the symbol Om, and connecting to the cards; the second part is for the majors, including an introduction, spreads, plus the messages of the cards themselves, which in turn feature pictures of each card and its name, keywords, symbol highlight, meaning, and tips for when you get the card; the third part is for the minors, with an intro to each suit, spreads, and the same features and care found in the majors; finally, the fourth part is shorter, including an about the author and recommended reading, always a highlight! Both the guide and the cards come in a flip-top box, and let me tell you, the production quality is top-notch: aside from the box, it also comes with a custom velvet drawstring bag which actually fits inside the box while holding the cards!

The Lovely Om Tarot is a culturally rich, energetically connected deck that really shines at weaving cards and meanings to deliver a cohesive, detailed message. It is a great tool to take a more intuitive approach to tarot while having fun submerging yourself in the stories that can be found in it. The artistic quality is great, and it feels airy and ethereal in a way, even with all the earthy elements it features. Darshanie Sukhu really poured her creativity, knowledge, care and love into this deck, from the images, to the book, to the details in production, making it a really solid deck for readers of all levels. If you want to know more about it, or even draw a card, head over the Lovely Om site!

#tarot #cards #lovely om #lovely om tarot #art #design #insight #meditation #om #products

[bllsbailey]

Nate Silver Drops Truth Bomb on White House for Trying to Hide Biden's Cognitive Decline

Statistician and writer Nate Silver now says he "crossed the Rubicon" in November about Joe Biden running for reelection, suggesting that the besieged president should "stand down" if he's incapable of running a normal reelection campaign. Meaning, he says, activities like conducting a Super Bowl interview.

Needless to say, that ship sailed long ago. 

In a Silver Bulletin on Monday, titled "It's Time for the White House to Put Up or Shut Up," Silver said the first time his "internal needle" began to shift was in late summer when "Biden’s approval numbers remained poor even as the economy was improving." At the time, Silver blamed Biden's advanced age.

Biden turned 81 in November (Trump is 77) — an enormous problem for voters and one that Democrats weren’t going to be able to spin away. Still, as of late September [2023], I thought that it had become too late for a full-fledged primary challenge to Biden, and  Biden voluntarily announcing that he wouldn’t run for a second term was a close call but probably failed a cost-benefit test for Democrats.

Silver then said what we all know: "Since then, Biden’s situation has become considerably worse." He then dropped one of several truth bombs on the White House and the Democrat Party:

If you’re someone who would rather not see Trump re-elected again or who cares about the election for other reasons, it’s time to face the facts. You need to adjust to the new reality and not be mired in anchoring bias by your previous impression of the race.

That's good advice — for both sides of the aisle.

Silver listed three issues that have considerably worsened for Biden, writing in part:

First, the president’s approval ratings do have some meaningful predictive power at this stage as compared with a year ago. And with the general election matchup all but locked in, Biden’s head-to-head polls against Trump provide some meaningful signal, too. So it’s no longer safe to ignore that Biden has consistently trailed Trump in polls both nationally and (more importantly) in swing states. Or that Biden’s approval rating is just 39 percent and shows no signs of improvement, well below the threshold that would ordinarily make a president a favorite for re-election. Second, to borrow the poker term, Biden no longer has as many “outs” — meaning, contingencies that could improve his situation: Third, yes, it’s become even clearer that Biden’s age is an enormous problem for him. As many as 86 percent of Americans say he’s too old in one poll, though numbers in the 70-to-75 percent range are more common — still an overwhelming majority in a bitterly-divided country. There’s also been recent bad news for Biden on this front. In the past couple of weeks:

To be clear, Silver is no fan of former President Donald Trump. But, he argues, "the fact that Trump also has a number of disqualifying features is not a good reason to nominate Biden." Rather, he says:

It is a reason for Democrats to be the adults in the room and acknowledge that someone who can’t sit through a Super Bowl interview isn’t someone the public can trust to have the physical and mental stamina to handle an international crisis, terrorist attack, or some other unforeseen threat when he’ll be in his mid-80s.

I suspect that Silver knows as much as the rest of us that the Democrat Party is stuck between a rock and a hard place. The more the White House tries to shield Biden from the public, the louder the outcry. On the other hand, the more the White House trots the guy out, the more confirmation that he's clearly incapable of carrying out the duties of the presidency.

Perhaps with the above thoughts in mind, Silver tossed out "a simple challenge to the White House."

Here's what I'd propose. Over the course of the next several weeks, Biden should do four lengthy sitdown interviews with “non-friendly” sources. “Non-friendly” doesn't mean hostile: nonpartisan reporters with a track record of asking tough questions would work great. A complete recording of the interviews should be made public. The interviews ought to include a mix of different media (e.g. television and print) and journalistic perspectives. For instance, Biden could pick these four:

Spoiler: No way in hell is Biden going to do any of the above. And even if he wanted to, his handlers would lock him in the basement and throw away the key.

The Bottom Line

Before the release of the Hur Report, I thought there was at least a 50-50 chance that the Democrats would ride Biden to the Democrat Convention in August and on to the election in November — if for no other reason than because they have no viable Plan B.

But now? 

If Biden doesn't drop out of the race between Super Tuesday and the convention, they'll kick him to the curb faster than you (he) can say: "I'm an elderly man, and I know what the hell I'm doing."

cy

[literate-lamb]

can I kiss you on the dancefloor?

Steve Rogers/Reader

One year into a relationship, yet still dancing in secrecy. Steve thinks he’s protecting you.

When a civilian and a hero fall in love, anything could go wrong. But not in the way Steve would have thought.

Or how the media play with the lives of superheroes.

►word count: 7.6k

► warnings(!): slight angst, alcohol

A/N: My gift to @blue-like-barnes for the Hoelentines Fic Exchange! I’m sorry it took some time, giftee. I didn’t expect this to turn into a monster (yikes). Thank you for hosting @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes ! Dividers from @firefly-graphics​ and GIF from Giphy

On his day-offs, Steve Rogers was a man full of disguises. 

When they first started, it was the baseball cap and thick-rimmed glasses. He liked it, it was simple, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone would notice. How could one not when his face was the one plastered in old war propaganda, in the museums commemorating his achievements, and even flashes on the telly when you walk past the local electronics store. 

Hence, it wasn’t a surprise when the tabloids posted a photo of him in his disguise, waiting at a crosswalk on a cold night. 

‘Captain America spotted on a midnight stroll’ came the next morning. It was taken after he was done walking you home, thankful they didn’t catch a glimpse of you.

“So capsicle, where were you off to last night?” Tony greeted him at breakfast, offending paper in hand. He unrolled it, opening and making a show of reading, displaying the front page for all seated to see. “Nice reading glasses, wasn’t aware you needed them.”

Striding into the room, Natasha came and snatched the tabloid. She gave it a critical eye, judging, before turning towards him. 

“Hmm, recycling disguises, Rogers? I’m disappointed.” 

Steve just groaned in reply.

The second time it happened, he had gone to the Black Widow herself for advice. He had expected sound advice coming from a former KGB spy who spent her paycheck on hair, but all he got was a stick-on mustache. Something about ‘needing to blend in rather than pointing the obvious’.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, Steve, but at least it’s better than that nerd get-up,” she smirked.

You had liked it. Giggling every time he kissed you, the fibres tickling your lips. He had ‘a caterpillar’ on his upper lip as you called it. And Steve had learned to get used to the itch.

But it wasn’t long before his new look was the star in barbershops. 

‘Captain America’s new look takes the world by storm.’ They had caught him again in another paparazzi shot. Tony had teased him for days after.

He couldn’t shake it off easily, constantly reminded of it when he walked the streets. Seeing them on screens when he’s channel-surfing. Even when he’s training new recruits, his vision filled with a sea of unshaved cadets, their hairy upper lips a prominent fixture.

He knew he had to do something when Bucky and Sam came in one day sporting twin mustaches. 

He discarded the strip of fibre in the bin. Reminding to pay Natasha a visit.

The third time he decided, he seeked out the help of Scott Lang, who was a master in keeping out of sight during his burglary days. Scott had given him a black beanie and told him to grow out his facial hair. 

The beanie hid his golden locks and the beard made him look rugged. You loved it, your thighs quivered when it was him and you in the four walls of your room. Uncontrollable groans as he went down. ‘Beard burn’ you had called it. Whatever it was, he loved the sounds you let out.

Four months. That’s how long the disguise lasted. His longest disguise to date. 

Before he became a trend.

‘Captain America is the new style icon.’ The internet sleuths found out where he got it too. ‘The sale of Walmart beanies skyrocketed by 70% thanks to Captain America.’

Tony had bought everyone in the compound a black beanie for Christmas, including the receptionist.

“Our grandpa’s a trendsetter, who knew,” he announced. Steve had smacked the back of Tony’s head with the beanie before retiring the disguise.

Now, sitting in The Sleeping Cat, Steve had opted for aviators and a Nasa baseball cap. He still kept his beard after your pleads, and he liked the look, he admits. It was back to basics for him and this was one of the only places where he was safe from prying eyes. Afterall, it was in this very café where he had met you.

The Sleeping Cat was a quaint little thing, a hole in the wall in a quiet part of the city. Not many knew of its existence, the entrance obscure, a blink and you’ll miss it. Which made it all the more perfect for him. The baristas knew him and minded their own business, offering him a smile every time he visited. ‘You’re safe with us’ they seem to say. 

He could say the same about the patrons. Most that frequented were regulars like him, they seemed the same, looking for a place to get away from the overbearing world. They seemed to share an understanding, paying him no mind as if he was just another man they passed on the streets. And that’s how he preferred it. 

Just a boy from Brooklyn.

Ding!

The chime of the door pulled him out of his thoughts. Facing the door, he saw you, smiling as you came through.

This was the best part of his days. 

You had met Steve Rogers at the most unexpected of times.

Terminated from your previous job at a small gallery, dumped by an ex-boyfriend after a 2 year relationship, you were at an utmost low. To escape your roommates —in case of pitying or prying, but if you were honest with yourself, it was to escape your own humiliation— you left the apartment on weekdays under the guise of going to work. In reality, you were at The Sleeping Cat applying for jobs on your laptop.

It was during one of the afternoon hours when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Turning to your left, you were greeted by a pair of startling blues. They were bright but worn as if they’ve seen too many. Looking at the bigger picture, you took him in. Hair hidden under a cap, a sharp jaw and an equally sharp nose, and if you looked closely, you thought you could spot a few moles on his cheeks. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put a finger to it.

Eyes fleeting to his lips, you realized he was actually talking.

“Huh?” 

“I was wondering if this seat’s taken?” He smiled, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite. He was clearly amused.

“Yeah, sure, sure,” you nodded, making room for his things. 

The following days, it became a routine and an arrangement. You would be at the café as early as the owner would allow, laptop in hand. While he would come in the afternoons in a different jacket each day, a sketchbook in hand. You would be propped up, sending application after application, praying for luck. While he would quietly sit, churning sketch after sketch, in a relaxed demeanour. 

Sometimes you would peek over your screen and watch him draw for a few minutes, lost in his strokes. When you look up, you’ll find his eyes locked with yours, and you’ll immediately reimmerse yourself behind the screen, embarrassed.

It was a comfortable routine. You came to expect him everyday. And on the days that he didn’t make it, you felt a bit forlorn looking at the empty seat. You both didn’t talk much, yet you were getting comfortable in his presence.

Until one day, he broke the silence.

“So, what is it that you do?”

You stared, dumbfounded. Looking around there wasn’t anyone nearby. 

“Were you talking to me?” you asked.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “It’s just that you’re always on your computer…” he trailed off.

“I’m an assistant curator at an art gallery— or, er, used to be,” you explained. “Long story short, I lost my job and now I’m looking for a new one, that’s why I’m here.”

He seemed to ruminate before replying, “So you know a thing or two about art?”

You both started a new routine; one with a lot of communicating. He would ask you about your mundane weekends and interests and in turn, you would ask about his. Except, he was anything but mundane. 

On the days he was absent, you learned Steve was away on a lot of ‘business trips’. When he returned, he had never failed to present you with a souvenir. From matryoshkas to sarongs, it was always a surprise accompanied by a tale.

“The pattern on the sarong is called a batik, and it’s amazing how they’re drawn using wax like a liquid crayon. It’s an interesting art form.”

Outside of your little routine, he was an enigma. You barely knew about the Steve outside of The Sleeping Cat. Sometimes he threw the names ‘Bucky’ and ‘Sam’ a lot —out of exhaustion— without giving away anything, remaining tight-lipped. While his mysteriousness should’ve been a cause of concern, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him, wanting to peel more of his layers, like the shell of a matryoshka. 

The routine went on for a few more weeks, with calls of interviews and business trips in between. Before you received a phone call.

“I got a job! At the Whitney!” you squealed, shaking his shoulders over the table, oblivious to the other patrons. Steve endured it, smiling. 

“Congratulations,” he said when you’ve calmed down. “I guess this is the last time I’ll be seeing you?”

You froze, high coming down, realization settling in. After a few weeks of secret meetings, of getting to know him, of having lunch together, of sharing laughs, you’ve come to see Steve as a good friend. And maybe, there was the birth of something more.

“Let’s exchange numbers,” you said, opening your phone. “This way, maybe we can hang out again. Have lunch sometimes?”

“I’d like that.” He smiled. 

And the rest was history.

Making your way towards The Sleeping Cat, you amused yourself with past memories. Memories from almost over a year ago. 

Steve had come to give a speech at the opening ceremony of an exhibition at the Whitney. Your first exhibition as a curator. An exhibition on art from the war times. When they had announced his title, a loud ‘oh’ was the only thing you could muster. 

The ‘ding’ of the bell resounded, announcing your arrival. Heading in, you saw a head perked up, beaming, baseball cap securing his golden locks and aviators hiding his mesmerizing blues.

This was the best part of your days.

But maybe, you were getting a little tired.

If someone were to ask you months ago if you were happy and content with your relationship, you would’ve replied with a swift yes in a heartbeat. No hesitation, no reservations, no doubt. Now, sitting in the same cafe, the same one you frequent on dates, the same one you both met in, you weren’t sure of the answer anymore.

As Steve gets up to order for you both, your eyes wander to his sketchpad. It was filled with sketches of random objects; the flower on the table, the pastries on display, sometimes the patrons of the cafe, and occasionally, you. 

“You’re my favourite subject, so far.”

It was not for the lack of love or the lack of affection. Steve was the most loving; loyal in so many ways, gentle when asked, and protective to a fault. Maybe the protectiveness was the cause of it all.

Staring at Steve’s back, your mind shifted to a memory from the past week, when your roommate pulled you aside from a get-together at the ice rink.

“Hey,” she called your name, taking a hold of your elbow. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure, what’s up?” you followed her, leading you to the sides.

Her eyes conveyed her worry. It amplified with the chewing of her bottom lip, a nervous tick.

“Are you and Steve… okay?” she asked, her brows perked. “I’m not sure if you notice, but today, it’s full of couples.” 

You looked towards your group of friends. There was your roommate’s girlfriend tying her skates, your other roommate and her boyfriend talking to another couple —their friends— and they were all holding their significant other’s hand. Oh.

“I don’t want to throw you out of the loop, but there would probably be a lot of double skating involved today,” she said, widening her eyes, looking comical. “Do you want me to talk to Steve? Maybe I could convince him to come, y’know?” 

Out of your two roommates, she was the only one who knew of your paramour. Having walked in on you and Steve making out on the couch. She was sworn into secrecy, with the promise of autographs from all the Avengers. 

“Look, it’s okay,” you assured her. “I can handle skating alone, and you know why he can’t really come here with us,” you shrugged.

“Okay, but aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around? Don’t you want to shout to the whole world ‘I’m fucking Captain America!’” she flailed.

You shushed her, muffling her mouth with your gloved hand.

Part of the secret was how Steven Rogers was an engineered superhero. A superhero with many enemies, leading him to fear for his loved ones, and that included you.

You went into the relationship whole-heartedly knowing the challenges; discreet rendezvous, kisses in the dark, minimal contact in public. You were his secret and he was yours. It was for your own good, wasn’t it?

“What’s got your little head wrapped up?” Steve’s voice startled you, bringing you back to the café. On the table, two cups of coffee and a slice of cake was served.

“Hmm? Oh, just thinking about this party the museum’s throwing this weekend,” you took your cup, blowing, contemplating your next words.“Say, how about you and I, I don’t know, go as dates?”

Steve crunched his brows. “You know that’s a hard thing for me to do, especially with your colleagues around.”

“I know! But maybe… maybe, you can go in one of your disguises this time? Remember that one time we went to Central Park?”

Steve exhaled, he remembered that afternoon. It was the one-off that you both ventured on a date in the outdoors. 

Decked in his beanie, casually strolling through Central Park with you beside him. Although he was still wary, keeping his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to hold your hand. 

No one had recognized him; not the ice-cream man, not the kids running around, not the mothers pushing strollers. No one. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

You leaned forward, pecking him on the lips multiple times. “Thank you!”

“You sure this looks convincing?”

“Trust me, punk. Grade A assassin here, thank you very much,” Bucky boasted while fixing the wig on his scalp, untangling the unruly strands.

Steve had sought Bucky for help, with the belief that assassins were good at hiding in plain sight (and maybe, he just didn’t want to go to Natasha twice). Bucky was also his most trusted confidant and he knew about you, Steve trusted him not to tell. But now looking at himself in the opposite mirror, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore. 

Long dangly tresses hung on the sides of his face parting in the middle, a trimmed beard leaving a bit of goatee, and to finish it off, Bucky dressed him in a checkered shirt consisting of random coloured squares. He looked like he just stepped out of the 60’s.

“Oh, wear these,” Bucky handed him a pair of large wire-framed glasses. “Done.”

Steve took a look in the mirror. A seedy pimp was the first thought that crossed his mind.

“Thanks Buck, I owe you one.”

“Sure Stevie, just bring me around next time on one of your dates, I’d like to meet her,” Bucky winked. “Or make it double.” He wagged his brows. “Like old times.”

Steve snorted.

“Okay, I got—“ Steve’s words halted when an alarm blared overhead. It demanded their attention.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, your presence is required in Prep Room six,” called the disembodied voice. “There’s been a breach of extraterrestrial energy in the airspace of Sweden.”

Steve exited and rushed through the hallways, Bucky following close behind. He made it through the living quarters, trudging to the training wing before entering one of the many prep rooms. 

“Nice costume, Cap. Halloween already?” Sam quipped. Almost everyone was present, they were equally amused.

Before anyone else could follow, Tony strided in immediately, grumbling. “Okay team, there’s been an E.T synthezoid putting holes in the ozone layer. I’ll fill you all in the quinjet. Suit up and meet me at the hangover in 10.”

Everybody gathered their equipment and hurried to leave, passing by him. Before Tony could, he took notice of Steve and did a double take. And then a third. 

“What’s with the pimp daddy get-up, Capsicle?” 

Steve huffed, ignoring the jab. “I have something that I need to attend. How important am I in this, Tony?”

“We need all hands on deck. We don’t really know what we’re up against, Fury’s still running recon,” Tony explained, squaring his shoulders. “Whatever it is you have, Cap. It can wait. Lives are at stake here.” With that, he left, not standing by for a response.

“Darn it,” Steve cursed, removing the glasses and the wig.

He left the prep room with his shield in hand. With one hand, he shot a text to you. He’ll make it up next time.

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Emergency mission

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Can’t make it, sorry

You switched the screen off, sighing. Around you, the party was in full swing. Invitees mingling with refreshments in hand, discussing the pieces on display tonight, and bidding on the pieces they find exquisite. Hors d’oeuvres and champagne were being served, brought around by servers on silver platters. You’ve been munching on them non-stop, grabbing one every time a server comes your way, needing something to occupy you.

Surrounding you, you’d see the occasional couple walking around, enjoying their time. The palms of their hands locked in each other’s as they navigate together, rarely straying afar. 

You clenched your hand, reminded of how empty it felt. 

It was inevitable, you were warned of this, you were told to expect this. Dating a superhero meant that he was never solely yours. You were sharing your boyfriend with someone, except that someone was the world. 

“Hiiii!” a shrill voice broke your thought, calling you by name. A blonde woman, followed by a brunette emerged from the gathering of art-goers, headed towards you. “It’s been a long while!”

“Hey! Yeah, it’s been awhile,” you waved, recognizing the two. 

When they reached you, you were aware of the slight tension in the air, leaving the three of you standing awkwardly. After all, these two were your ex-colleagues and you didn’t exactly leave the previous gallery on good terms. Tonight was a night with masks, it seemed.

“So, how are you two doing?” you decided to get it over with.

“We’re fine, everyone’s fine! But how are you? We heard you worked here now, pretty impressive,” the brunette —Claire— winked at you. You laughed.

“Yeah, it’s so nice seeing you again, and at the Whitney? The pay must be good, you know what I’m saying?” Hilda chimed, knocking her elbows with yours. You didn’t appreciate it but you endured.

 “Say, what are you doing over here far away? Why not you join us over there,” Hilda pointed, towards a mounted canvas at the end of the hall. It was occupied by two men in a discussion among themselves. “Chat a bit to catch up, a bit of art philosophical debate in between. What do you say?”

You contemplated her offer, not wanting to seem pretentious, but thought about the false flattery and ego-stroking that would sure ensue in their company. The thought of it drained you.

“It’s okay,” you waved them off nervously. “I have to call my boyfriend sooner, gotta check up on him and let him know I’m... alright.” You held up your phone, playing on convincing.

“Oh? He isn’t here tonight?” Claire seemed to feign worry. 

“No, he got caught up with something. He’s a busy man,” you cooked up an excuse. No one could know. 

“Okay… In that case, we’ll leave you to it. Maybe we’ll bump into each other sooner.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys soon.”

They waved before backing away into the mass of patrons. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in. 

While the interaction was unexpected, this was what you had to deal with when it came to the question of your relationship. The excuses, they became second nature to you. The lies. The deceit. Anything to protect Steve’s identity, and inadvertently, you.

Throughout the night, you mingled with any clients interested in a work of art, all the while stepping out of Hilda and Claire’s line of sight. You didn’t wish a repeat of the earlier evening.

When the crowd started dwindling, signalling the end of the night, you were relieved of your duties. You headed straight for the restrooms after, one getaway before leaving. You huddled yourself in a cubicle, locking it shut.

Seconds in, you heard the creak of the restroom door followed by the clicks of heels.

“Can you believe it? Someone like that got the chance of working here.” 

You recognized the nasally tone. It was Claire. 

“Yeah? Not like she deserves it. I mean look at her? Demure, slow. It’s like talking to a mouse. I bet she’s a prude too.” That was Hilda.

The gushing of the faucet muffled their voices, but their sharp words were clear as day, your ear catching every snark and hiss.

“And when she was talking about her boyfriend? He probably doesn’t even exist, it was just to get off our backs,” Hilda paused. “Last time I heard, her boyfriend dumped her. So, I guess she’s creating imaginary ones now.” 

They both cackled.

By now, you knew they were talking about you. Their words didn’t hurt as much, you knew the colour of their hearts beneath the masks. But was that how people viewed your hidden relationship? A facade? A farce?

Once the door clicked shut, and the tapping of their heels faded, you left the restroom, heart feeling heavier.

(y/n) [6:45 PM]: stay safe stevie ! remember to hydrate

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: punch those meanies

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: (`⌒*)⍟-(`⌒´Q)

Steve chuckled when he turned on his phone, amused at your texts. You always sent him good luck messages every time he went off for missions. Although he didn’t seem to get the emoticons that you sent, even after being taught by Peter Parker. He just didn’t get them.

Steve dialed your number, sitting on the edge of the bed as he dried his washed hair. Beeps ringed before you picked up, your smooth lilt permeating the speakers. 

“Hello? Stevie?”

Steve smiled, missing the caress of your voice after a day filled with explosions and cries.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greeted. “How’s my girl been?”

“Great, now that you called,” you teased. “But are ‘you’ fine?” you emphasized.

On the other end of the line, you mirrored his position, sitting on one corner of the bed. Picking the newspaper in your lap, you observed the front page: ‘Avengers saves the Arctic!’ 

“Same old, same old,” his voice carries. “Listen, about yesterday—“

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, other hand gripping the newspaper. “You have to protect the Earth and that also means me. You don’t have to apologize, I knew what I signed up for.” 

Did you? Or was it now a hollow statement to convince yourself?

“I still want to make up for it, my girl deserves that much,” he responded.

You slowly unclenched the paper. It left Steve’s form crinkled.

“If you want to sooo bad,” you exaggerated. “There’s a Valentines charity ball for our arts program in three weeks time. You think you could make it this time?”

“You know no promises, but I plan to, even if I have to do everyone’s laundry for a week.” You heard rustling on the other line. “What’s the exact date? I’ll put it on my calendar.” 

“The 16th.” Scratchy scribbling filled your ear, the sound loud in the silence. 

“Done. Can’t wait to see you all dolled up, sweetheart.”

“Me too, baby,” you said. “At least put on a nice moustache this time.”

He laughed. Your heart felt lighter. To him, it was probably nothing, but to you, it was a form of reassurance. A reassurance that what you had was real.

“Steve, you got a moment?”

The aforementioned man turned around, taking a glance over his shoulder. Sharon Carter slowed to a stop, a small smile on her face. As always, she carried an air of superiority, matching that of Steve’s wavelength. Yet today, it seemed dim.

“I think we need to talk, you have time for coffee?”

Glancing at his watch, he nodded. “Sure, Sharon. Lead the way.”

She took them outside of S.H.I.E.L.D and into the chilly air of DC, navigating through streets and crowds while huddling in their coats. They chatted, breaths puffing as they caught up, the familiar scenes passing by.

He hadn’t been in DC in awhile, it felt good to be back. 

“We’re here.”

Sharon headed in first, holding the door for him. He thanked her. They ordered and got seated. A smile was shared, strained as it seemed. 

“Better just rip the band-aid off,” Sharon sighed. “I miss us.” 

“Sharon—“

“Please, hear me out first,” she insisted, showing her palm. “We probably shouldn’t have done what we’ve done after Aunt Peggy’s funeral. I just lost someone I looked up to the most, and you lost the woman that you loved. We were both grieving. It wasn’t fair to the both of us.”

“While I do miss us, I know that it wasn’t meant to be,” she continued, shooting a sombre smile. “I understand that now. I guess, what I wanted was closure.”

Her hand quivered on the table between them. Steve clasped his over hers, offering to soothe.

“I don’t regret what happened in Germany. While yes, it should have not happened, it was what we thought we needed at that time. We both lost someone we held dear,” Steve explained, hoping his words reached her. “None of it was a mistake, Sharon. You’re still someone I trust and hold dear, remember that.”

Steve clutched her hand tighter, running his thumb over her knuckles in circular motions, attempting to calm and show understanding.

In his efforts, unknown to the two, the shutter of a camera went off across the street.

Something felt off. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. At first, you thought it was your own anxious mind running. 

You woke up late on a work day, burned your eggs and toast, accidentally wore unmatching socks, and your roommate was acting weird. All jittery when you entered the hall, stammering her words, and performing this bizarre dance when you walked past the living room. You gave her no mind when you passed the threshold and slammed the door, phone gripped in hand.

Loverboy [6:00 AM]: Good morning, dear 

Loverboy [6:01 AM]: [image]

A photo of Steve, sweaty after a run showed on the screen. He was smiling, shirt stained and clinging to his chest. You had taught him how to take selfies.

You [7:20 AM]: morning, handsome

You [7:20 AM]: 😍😍😍 

The morning texts were the best part of your morning commute. It made the arduous and packed journey worthwhile. Even when you almost tripped at the doors, it couldn’t take away your joy.

You made it just in time and clocked in, meeting clients and discussions with artists throughout the day. It was uneventful, although the bad luck seemed to have followed when you spilled your coffee on the concrete.

It was when you left the museum that your day took a turn for the worst.

On the ride home, the man opposite you was reading a newspaper. Nothing unusual, but at a glance, you thought you saw a familiar face printed on the corner. Before you could take a closer look, the man folded it in half and got off.

A few minutes later, you arrived at your stop, exiting the station with the fast-paced crowd. That’s when you were bombarded.

Lining the streets, your vision was filled with the scattering of a crowd of papers. Every face you saw was plastered in them.

‘The Good Captain In Love?’

‘A Superhero & A Civilian Romance?’ 

‘Captain America’s Girl? Mysterious Woman Sighted’

The sight of them left you in a panic, your anxiety spiking through the roof. Your world started spinning, everything —buildings, trees, faces— blending altogether. Everywhere your eyes deflected, a headline invaded your sight, imprinting itself on your retinas. Had they found out?

Composing yourself, you headed towards the nearest news stall, mind boggled with too many questions and not enough answers. How? Why? When?

Only, it wasn’t your face they were publishing.

‘“Oh Captain, My Captain” America in love? Spotted last week in DC was Captain Steven Rogers with a mysterious lady. They seemed to be cozy with each other, an eyewitness told Us Weekly. Story on Page 11.’

The photograph showcased Steve with a blonde woman, sitting in a café with their hands clasped on the table. Your heart shattered at the sight, remembering how empty yours have felt lately. 

Was he purposely out with this woman in public? What did that mean for you? Why were you shadowed?

“Are you and Steve… okay?”

“She’s creating imaginary ones now.”

“Aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around?”

“You know that’s a hard thing for me to do.”

“Hey lady, you gonna pay for that?”

You were shaken out of your stupor. Looking down, you were clutching the magazine too hard, ripping the image of Steve and the woman in half, right in the middle where their hands met.

You apologized to the man and paid for the magazine. Immediately discarding it in the next trash bin you saw.

“So… you and Sharon?” Sam had asked him after training.

“What?” 

“You, and, Sharon,” Sam emphasized, pronouncing each syllable. “Are together. Man, when were you gonna tell me? I thought it was over.”

Steve froze before replying, “Because it is. A long time ago.”

“Well, this seems to say otherwise.” 

Sam showed him his phone, the screen displaying an article; ‘Captain America’s Girl Revealed. A Family Affair That Transcends Time.’ On top of the article was a photo of him and Sharon at the cafe in DC, his hand atop of hers on the table. A zoomed in version of their hands were provided, fueling the tabloid’s narrative.

Steve paled at the sight. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was his fears manifested; his anonymity taken, his privacy invaded, but his worst fear was putting his loved ones in danger. And if it was due to their association with him, it would leave him racked with guilt. 

While the tabloids were wrong, he knew that Sharon could defend for herself. You on the other hand… 

His heart rate rose, a new wave of anxiety spiked. Steve wondered if you’ve seen this. No, you must’ve seen this. 

Fishing for his phone, with clammy hands, Steve quickly dialed your number, anxiously waiting for the beeping to end. 

‘The number you’ve dialed is not—‘

“Damn it!”

His outburst surprised Sam, shocking him. Sam gave him a look, inquisitive. 

“Sorry Sam, I have to run.” 

He left, heart in his throat.

When Steve arrived at your apartment, he was almost out of breath. He was still anxious, the ride here not doing much to his addled mind. But he was determined.

Rapidly knocking on your front door, Steve composed himself. When it opened, he was met with the sight of your roommate -- the one that he has never met before.

“Ca-Captain America?” she yelped, shocked to see him on the doorstep.

“Is your roommate in?” he steeled.

“Which one—” 

“Steve,” a voice interrupted.

The door pulled further, widening the entrance. Steve was met with your familiar roommate. She was tense, arms locked across her chest, eyes full of fury. Steve detected something else in them; worry.

“You fucked up,” she said. He winced.

“I know,” he admitted. “And I’m here to make things right. Can I please see her?”

She sighed, stepping in, nodding towards your room. 

Steve hastily walked in, stopping in front of your door. He knocked thrice, signalling you, before turning the knob. It was unlocked. The room was dark when he entered, every source of light switched off, except for your curtains. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed was you, figure illuminated by the street lights against pitch black darkness. When he stepped in closer, you looked up, eyes meeting his. 

Steve turned on the lights and closed the door. He took a good look at you; hair frazzled, eyes bloodshot and dry, nose red. You were the image of heartbreak.

“Are you ashamed of me?” you asked, eyes locked with his. 

“What? No, I—“

“Is it because I’m not strong?” you cut him off. “I know she’s Peggy’s niece… a-and I know how much you loved her. She was your first love.”

“She and I, it’s all in the past. She moved on and lived her life, and I… did too.”

“But did you really, Steve? Move on?” you whispered, getting up. You stood in front of him. Steve could see how puffed your eyes were from crying. “Or was I just… a rebound?”

“No. No, you were never a rebound,” he took hold of your forearms. “I care for you, too much.”

“Then why?!” you shrieked, shocking Steve. “Why the secrets? Why the hiding? Steve, you’ve never even introduced me to your friends. Shouldn’t they know?”

“I wanted to protect you!”

“Protect me from what?!” you roared, eyes full of fury. “The Avengers? If they knew about me, they would protect me. Don’t you think so?”

Steve had no words to that, his mind a jumbled mess.

“I’m… beginning to think that you’re embarrassed with me,” you sighed. “We’ve never been on a date publicly, as each other. We’ve never held hands in public. I want you to meet my friends. I want to introduce you to them, and maybe soon, I want you to meet my family.”

“B-but, I’m tired, Steve. Tired of all the hiding. Of all the sneaking around. I want to tell the world that I’m in love with Steve Rogers, not Captain America,” you sighed, shedding a few tears.

You waited for his reply, only to be disappointed. 

“You know I can’t do that.”

You saw red. All you saw was red. 

You started pushing him, swatting him in the chest. Steve didn’t fight back, letting you unleash your anger, your disappointment. He took your hits, letting you release your pent up emotions. He began backing away when you started advancing, back against the door.

“Get out! Get out!” you screeched, pushing him.

When he unlocked the door and crossed, you immediately shut the door in his face. Steve heard sobbing from inside, his heart shattering at the sounds. 

“This way, Captain,” your roommate approached him, showing him to the door.

Steve relented, shame flooding him. He fucked up.

You stopped visiting The Sleeping Cat, wanting to avoid him at all costs. You blocked his number. You immersed yourself in your work, prepping for the upcoming charity gala. 

Sometimes you find yourself thinking about him when sleep proved to be difficult. It’s when you’re laying at night that you missed him the most.

But it was for the best, you reasoned. For you and him.

The Avengers PR had pushed for a fix-it, publishing a story that spoke a truth. ‘Just Friends: Romantic Allegations Proved False’. Steve had hoped you’d seen it. 

He called you every day but found himself blocked from everything. He still tried, hoping you’d come around one day. He came by The Sleeping Cat every other day, sitting in the same spot, hoping to catch you. 

But you never came.

You clasped the necklace in place, admiring how it sat on your clavicle through the mirror. You took a step back and took yourself in, smiling at what you saw. It didn’t reach your eyes.

Today was the day of the Valentines gala and you weren’t feeling particularly giddy about it. 

Opening your phone, you stared at the one contact that stood out, finger hovering over his name. That name used to give you so many feelings, but today it was a reminder that you were going alone, again.

Sighing, you threw it in your purse and left. Another lonely night, and on an even celebrating love.

Days turned into weeks, and soon, before he knew it, the day of your Valentines gala arrived. 

Steve stared at the calendar. The heart-shaped doodle he drew called out to him, reminding him of fond memories. Fond memories that seemed like a distant dream. But then, he went back to last week, and it all came crashing.

He had hurt you. While thinking he was protecting you, he hadn’t realized he was inadvertently pushing you away. He had no one to blame but himself. 

He loved you. No, still loves you. You grounded him, gave him the normalcy that he craved. Reminded him of a distant time before he was Captain America. 

You made him feel like the boy from Brooklyn again.

While he was ruminating in his feelings, Steve was caught off-guard when the door burst open with Tony Stark coming through. From his peripheral, he could see Bucky and Sam peeking through the frame.

“Heard from the Manchurian Candidate that someone has a case of the achy breaky heart,” Tony said, smug.

“Leave me alone, Tony. I’m not in the mood,” he grumbled, setting down the calendar. 

“And leave you wallowing like shit while your girl is out there probably equally miserable? I know a thing or two about women, Rogers, and it’s that they don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Tony snapped his fingers and from behind, Sam came in with a tuxedo in hand.

“Thought you might need this,” Sam said. 

Bucky came out behind him, with a brush and can of hairspray. “And I still know how to do hair.”

“And I have friends in places,” Tony quipped. “I can get you in.”

Steve was surprised. His friends had surprised him. You would’ve loved them. He was left speechless.

“What are you waiting for, Cap? Suit up.” Tony winked.

Swirling the glass of rosé, your gaze fell towards the dance floor. An upbeat song was being played as people flocked near the middle, letting their bodies take charge for the night. You saw your former co-workers among the throng, hands thrown around their significant others, having the time of their lives.

The gala was in full swing, if the crowd and chatter was any indication. Red and roses were the main theme, with a red carpet stretching from the grand staircase towards the main hall and roses lining every corner and wall. Taking it all in, you were proud to see your ideas visualized and work came to fruition.

You sipped your rosé, enjoying every bit of the gala as you could. From the sidelines, you spoke with a few potential clients and art collectors. Their presence made you feel your importance, and if you dared say it, a little less lonely.

It was during one of your little chats that you didn’t realize when the hall suddenly fell quiet. You turned around when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi folks, mind if I crash your party?”

Steve smiled at Tony’s antics. They both had arrived at the gallery dressed in their best, and with Tony’s connections, they were granted access. 

Stepping down the grand staircase, Steve felt all eyes on him. He paid them no mind, the thought of you the only occupant of his racing mind. Gazing over the crowd, Steve spotted you to the side, occupied in a chatter. 

Taking deliberate steps, Steve soon found himself behind you. He admired your gown and hair, it entranced him. You still hadn’t registered his presence, even when your partner had ceased chatting and was now staring at him.

With a tap on your shoulder, he was taken away as immediately as you spun around. Steve took in your whole image; your dolled-up face, your intricate dress, your styled hair. It left him floored.

You always did manage to take his breath away. Was this what he had been missing out all this time?

Taking your unoccupied hand, Steve pressed a small kiss before meeting your eyes. 

“May I have this dance?”

Giving away your drink, you took his hand as he pulled your towards the centre, taking space among the crowd. A slow number started, and before you realized, you were swept in a slow dance. It didn’t take long before you felt the sensation of his two left feet.

“Sorry, a hundred years and you’d think I’d know how to dance,” he said.

A small smile lightened your face. Steve savoured it all he could. Gulping, he took the first step.

“I’m... sorry for what I’ve done. I realize now that you were right,” he started. “I thought I was protecting you, but now I see that all it did was push you away. You have all the rights to be mad at me. I was being an idiot, a selfish one. I didn’t think about how you felt about it.”

You winced. Steve had stepped on your toes again. He murmured an apology, resorting to swaying instead.

“Can we start again? No more hiding. No more disguises,” he breathed, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “ We can meet your friends, you can meet mine. Bucky’s been pestering me to bring you to the compound, he wants to meet you.”

You laughed. How Steve had missed the tune.

“How can I make it up to you? How do you want to take the first step? A picnic at Central Park? Dinner at the compound? A trip to the beach?”

You seemed to contemplate, a thoughtful look on your face. You both failed to realize all the eyes on you two.

“How about now?”

“Right here? Right now?” he asked.

“Yes, right here, right now,” you said, determined.

Without hesitation —no more— Steve dived in, planting a kiss on your wine-coloured lips for the whole world to see. Your first kiss in public, yet it felt as if it was only the two of you there, lost in the moment. 

You both didn’t notice the gasping crowd nor the clicks of cameras from photographers nor the booming laughter of Tony Stark. You both only felt the other in your orbit, and that was all that mattered.

“Can you put that down? You’ve been staring at it for the past hour.”

You pouted, setting the frame on the side table, where it has been designated since its publication. 

“I can’t help it, I think it’s a good shot. Don’t you think so, Alpine?” you petted the snowy white cat lazing on the arm of the sofa. Its’ purrs intensified.

“Dinner’s ready!” Bucky shouted.

You and Steve left the room, joining the others in the dining room for dinner. On the side table, the framed article sat neatly, showcasing the tale of the famed occurrence that took place at a charity gala.

‘America’s Girl: The Modern Woman of The Captain’s Dreams.’

Fin.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #fluff #angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #happyhoelentinesday2021

[gateway-to-glimmer]

A Guide to Dream Work

Dream States

Sleep states are fun to consciously control  for various reasons. They can be used to view and analyze our memory  and sense of self in an indirect way. The feelings and ideas produced by  sleep feel profound and vivid, and can be used for creative  inspiration.

The characters and places we encounter in our dreams  are reflective of the things we have experienced and imagined. We have  dedicated systems of memory for things like our stereotypes of people  and places, as well as our relationship to our environment and to  ourselves. When we are in a dream state, we see the boundaries between  ideas contained within our memory distort and change, leading to the  experience of a world created entirely from the contents of our  knowledge and memory.

Sleep is essential for functioning. Contrary  to what one would expect, the brain is active even during sleep. When  we sleep, the brain goes through a process of regulating physical and  mental functions. Sleep is essential for memory consolidation. It is  difficult to retain and recall information that hasn’t yet been  consolidated during sleep.

There are several distinct stages of  sleep. Older psychological texts used to break these up into five stages  of sleep. Today, most researchers divide the stages of sleep into four  stages: NREM 1, NREM 2, NREM 3, and REM sleep. REM stands for rapid-eye  movement. During REM sleep, the eyes move back and forth quickly, hence  the name. NREM stands for non-rapid eye movement. In these stages of  sleep, the eyes are still, unlike in REM sleep.

Staying lucid  during the different stages of sleep is an interesting experience that  many enjoy and find thought provoking. Each stage of sleep is   experienced by the dreamer in a different way. Studies have been   conducted on participants who were woken up during the different stages of sleep and asked what their dreams were like. People who were woken up  during light sleep felt as though they had entered an immersive   daydream but hadn’t quite fallen asleep. People woken up during deep   sleep (NREM 3) reported feeling fully immersed in their mind, but that   the dream felt more thought-like and involved mundane subjects,   activities, and places. People who were woken up during REM sleep   reported vivid, surreal, and fantastical dreams.

Different  mystical traditions delineate between three distinct types of dream-work  which map onto lucid dreaming during the three stages of sleep.  Hedgecrossing occurs during NREM 1 and NREM 2 sleep. During this stage  of sleep, if the dreamer is lucid, their thoughts become random, vivid,  immersive, and contain spontaneous events that feel profound. Their  thoughts feel out of their control. Spiritual traditions use this stage  of sleep for the purpose of contacting spirits or interpreting some  aspect of their lives.

Lucid dreaming during deep sleep is  experienced as astral projection. Astral projection stereotypically  involves the perception of leaving the body and walking into the world  just outside of the self. Traditionally, the world becomes more random  and mystical as the person moves further from their body, which maps  onto the idea that the change in sleep states causes a subjectively  perceived change in experience while lucid dreaming.

Lucid  dreaming during REM sleep is what people traditionally think of when  they think of lucid dreaming. REM sleep dreams depart from the normal  laws of reality the most severely of all of the stages of sleep. Because  of this, lucid dreaming can easily be used to generate creative ideas  or to explore themes from one’s life through the vivid feelings produced  by the dream. In addition, it is possible to attain some degree of   psychological healing through dreams because of their connection to our memory, and because dream experiences feel vivid and thus their content  and our reaction to them can significantly impact us even when we are awake.

I will describe how to attain each dream state in the next  section. In a subsequent section, I will explain how spiritual  practitioners approach dream work. I will then explain how to use dream  experiences in a constructive way (such as through dream analysis,  creative inspiration, and overcoming traumas and internal conflicts  through dream role play) as an alternative psychological technique.

Hedgecrossing

Hedgecrossing refers to the state of mind  that occurs when one is lucid during light sleep. This state of mind is  useful for spiritual and psychological work. People who subscribe to a  mystical belief system may use this state of mind to contact spirits or  perform a ritual or detect something about the world. People who see  these states of mind as psychological tools may use this state of mind  to access parts of their memory - similar to using hypnotherapy  techniques.

Procedure

The general procedure for  hedgecrossing is to meditate in a comfortable position until the mind  begins to enter a sleeping state. There are certain tells that the mind  has entered such a state - the thoughts that automatically come to us  become random, nonsensical. As with all dream-based work, it is  important to try many times to attain and work with these states. It is  very easy to fall asleep or to fail to enter into a dream state at all  and this can be discouraging for many people. Hedgecrossing is the  easiest lucid dream state to attain because it takes place in the first  stage of sleep, so it is the first dream state entered. People don’t  feel as though they have left their body but they do feel like their  imagination has taken on a mind of its own and it can surprise them with  moments of insight and inspiration.

We will be creating a  specific mental place inside for each of the three lucid dream states.  Eventually, our brains come to associate this internal mental space with  the state of mind provoked by each type of dream state. Over time, as  the association becomes stronger, this helps us enter into a particular  dream state more easily.

Lay down in a comfortable place that you  ordinarily sleep in. Practicing good sleep hygiene, especially the step  where you only sleep in the room/area you sleep in so that your mind can  associate that area with sleeping, can help. Beginning at a time where  you are naturally tired and normally go to bed helps. This state is  prompted by entering the first stages of sleep, light sleep.

Clear  your mind as though you are meditating. Enter your mind’s eye and focus  solely on the experience of being inside of your imagination. Ignore  external thoughts and sensations as they come up, letting go of them and  turning back inside. You are free to develop your own set of   visualizations. The general framework for developing your own system of visualizations to distract you until you enter light sleep is, more or less, this: enter the first of your visualizations and ground yourself in your 5 senses; leave the area to a second room associated with   hedgecrossing; leave to a third room where you engage in a repetitive   (hypnotic) motion; then leave to a final room where you can walk   endlessly until you enter a hedgecrossing state/light sleep state. I   will give an example below.

Enter your mind’s eye at the foot of a  blue cliff with the opening to a black cave. Feel the blue grass  beneath your feet. Drink from a nearby pool of clear water above pastel  blue sand. Look at the deep blue sky above and listen to the wind blow  through the blue leaves coming off the black trees behind you, smelling  the cool, chilly, evening air. Enter the cave.

Enter a black room  with blue steps leading down. Blue stars line the walls of the cave,   approximating the complexity of the universe. Look at them as you   continue downwards. At the bottom of the stairs is a glowing blue number  one on the walls instead of stars. This mental state, hedgecrossing, is  associated with the star symbol as well as the color blue and the   number 1. Giving specific symbols meaning like this helps make entering this state from this mental location easier in the future. There is a   door with a large blue A glowing on it. Walk through the door, feeling   the texture of the doorknob in your hand.

Enter a room with blue  crystals and a pool of water with a waterfall. Watch the waterfall flow  endlessly into the pool of water, feeling the cool water wash over your  hands. Listen to the sound of the water flowing into the pool. Dive into  the water.

After entering the water, enter a room without water.  This area is a maze. Ankle deep water and blue crystals and stars line  the walls. Walk through the cave, taking random turns, until the area  begins to randomize and things begin to change outside of your control.  You will have entered the state informally called hedgecrossing (lucid  dreaming during light sleep) when the area and things inside of it are  partially outside of your control.

Some people find it helpful to  take a small amount of caffeine; others find this does not help at all.  Stimulants can make it easier to maintain lucidity, but also harder to  fall asleep. I have narcolepsy and I’m prescribed Ritalin and I  accidentally lucid dream on it all of the time because of this.

Uses

Soul retrieval and hypnotherapy  both force the practitioner into a trance that is similar to light   sleep or near light sleep in order to enter into and manipulate the mind  in a deeper way than is normally possible in a waking state. This   allows us to cross mental barriers, such as the barriers that keep   memories repressed, and view normally forbidden materials in our mind.   This also means that, since our emotions are more vivid, the things that  we think and the way we interact in our mind leaves a stronger   impression than is normally possible during a waking state where our   emotions are more repressed. The increased emotional vividness serves as  a flag to our mind that what we are thinking is more important than   normal.

The following techniques can be practiced in other sleep  states, although the form they take may differ between stages of sleep.  Because it is difficult to remember information between a waking and  sleeping state, it is essential to keep a journal nearby in order  to write down important thoughts. Get into a habit of writing about the  contents of every lucid dream, regardless of which stage of sleep it  occurred in, as soon as you wake up. Write down every regular dream, as  well.

Symbols are important elements of our mind. Symbols  serve as associative cues to different places in our memory. When we  hedgecross, we enter into a state of mind where we are closer to our  memory, almost living in it as we do when we are deeply sleeping. We can  use symbols to interact with our mind. When we are hedgecrossing, we  can call up a symbol. Say, the color red. We visualize this color, and  because our thoughts have become more random, they will warp and respond  to the introduction of this cue. We could randomly remember a memory  connected to the color red. Or we could spontaneously imagine a  character or the beginning of a story prompted by thinking about the  color red.

We think about the world in certain ways that are  connected to our different types of memories. We have special  neurological processes dedicated to processing things like narratives,  relationships, time, other people, cultural stereotypes, and places.  These elements become easy to notice when we engage in dream work. We  become immersed in the components of our memory, and the types of  components we can think in become obvious quickly. Elements that  frequently recur in dreams often have some significance, and it is worth  it to interact with these symbols - doing so can reveal old memories  and can allow us to interact with these ideas to inspire or change the  self. This is the process of dream analysis. By interacting with  these symbols, characters, and other ideas, we can see their meaning.  Dream analysis books offer interpretations based on cultural symbolism.  This is helpful to some extent, but personal symbolism is what matters  the most, and it can be quite contextual and idiosyncratic. It is  possible to interact with an idea or symbol in a dream and to talk to  it, touch it, see what is inspired by interacting with it. The ideas  that spring up from interacting with this element can be used to analyze  its meaning.

Interacting with symbols in the mind can be used as a  hypnotherapy tool. If someone has a troubling thought loop or memory,  they can interact with it in a dream state to learn more about it and to  gain mastery over the memory. However, it is possible to trigger  nightmares in doing so. That is the risk of good dream work - there is  some element of difficulty to it, and one must be willing to face and  master difficult thoughts to proceed. This can be used to identify core  thoughts and traumas and integrate with them in the course of dealing  with difficult personal experiences and thoughts.

Astral Projection

Astral projection is the act of lucid  dreaming during deep sleep. Qualitatively, this state feels more mundane  than a traditional lucid dream, and it feels more thought-like. As we  enter deep sleep, we finally feel ourselves leave our body.  Paradoxically, we are actually entering our memory, completely cut off  from the external world. For a moment, we haven’t yet forgotten the  rules of external reality or the context we fell asleep in. Our short  term memory takes a short amount of time to clear, and in that time when  we first enter an astral state we experience ourselves as leaving our  body where we left off before we forget where we were when we fell  asleep as our previous circumstance is cleared from our short term  memory. Some people feel vibrations; other people feel nothing at all as  they transition from light sleep to deep sleep.

The general   framework for astral projecting is as follows: lay down in a comfortable  location; focus on staying awake as you slowly fall asleep. Eventually,  you will become overwhelmingly tired that it is almost beyond your  capability to hang on to your conscious awareness. Continue to stay  focused and eventually, your body will feel strange in some way.  Different people experience this change differently. It can be difficult  to get up and to exit the body; no longer being able to move the body  means you are in an astral state. Eventually, if you stay awake and keep  trying to interact with the world, you will leave your body.

This  is a good framework, although to properly associate this state of mind  for your deliberate use later, I recommend a slight permutation to the  classic technique. Before laying down to astral project, enter into your  mind’s eye. See a green glowing 2 in the middle of a field of green  roses. The sky above is filled with green petals. Turn around and see a  door with the letter B glowing green. Reflect on your intention and  enter the door; it should be dark. This signals to your mind that you  are beginning to focus with the intention of astral projecting. Some  people might want to stay immersed in the mind’s eye and imagine a green  landscape beyond the door; a green hedge maze with infinite twists and  turns, and green marble fountains and benches. You will completely enter  your internal landscape when you fall into a deep sleep. This is  similar to hedgecrossing, and it is easy to get stuck in a hedgecrossing  state and it can be hard to transition to an astral state, although  some do it this way. It is important to fall asleep in astral  projection, whereas in hedgecrossing it is important to stay aware as  you are near sleep. In an astral state, you completely lose touch with  the external world and your internal world becomes your entire reality.

Uses

Astral  projection is fun. The vivid emotions provoked by this state of mind   can be entertaining. It is interesting to watch the changes in cognition  that accompany the different stages of sleep. It is possible to use   lucid dreaming states in order to solve or work on personal problems. As  in hedgecrossing, analyzing and interacting with the content of dreams  can be highly meaningful and symbolic.

Some people use dreams to  help deal with psychological issues. Profound visions, such as religious  experiences and positive dreams, can be used to help improve mood even  if one isn’t spiritual. It is possible re-enact difficult memories or  scary situations and to master them in dreams, which leads to one  feeling more comfortable with that memory or situation in waking life.

Because  of the way we think, we often encounter certain types of forms when we  astral project. These forms reflect the way our brain encodes and   interacts with the world around us in our memory. We have specific types  of memory rather than just one unified type of memory; we have memories  for knowledge, behaviors, habits, associations between ideas, and  events. We also have further subdivisions in our memory for our   perception of ourselves, others, places, cultural stereotypes, objects -  and our relationships (which can take the form of opinions, a   perception of personality, narrative plots, and themes) to these things.  We can interact with these elements of our mind in a literal way in   dream states and understand how our memory itself is structured.

People  often encounter elements of our memory- and its ability to create novel  versions of things it has introjected- in specific forms in our dreams.  Some people refer to these constructs as deities or spirits, others see  them as thoughtforms depending on if they subscribe to a spiritual  belief system or not. We can perceive other people or ideals as  characters that feel emotionally profound; we can perceive otherworldly  places that feel as though they are beyond us. We can perceive the  elements of our memory in a vivid way that is highly creative because of  the memory shuffling that is occurring during memory consolidation  which happens during sleep. I am convinced that dreaming is people  watching the process of (some part of) memory consolidation in a literal  way.

Lucid Dreaming

Lucid dreaming takes place during REM  sleep. In a normal person who isn’t sleep deprived, REM sleep sets in  after about 90 minutes. This makes entering a lucid dream through the  traditional way of meditating through the previous sleep states  difficult, although it is possible. Some people attempt to enter REM  sleep directly by waking themselves up and then going back to bed again;  because their mind is interrupted mid-sleep cycle, they may enter REM  again quickly.

The best way to attain lucidity during REM sleep,  in my opinion, is to engage in reality checks. Reality checks train us  to check during dreams automatically to see if we are sleeping or not.  We pick some detail about dreams that sets them apart from reality, and  during the day we check several times to see whether or not we are  sleeping. Eventually, this habit carries over into dreams and we  naturally question whether or not we are dreaming - which prompts us to  enter a lucid dream if we ask this question while we are dreaming.

Here  are some examples of reality checks: dreams constantly change and   shift, so if you look at something, look away, and then look back - if   you are dreaming, it should have changed. If you aren’t dreaming, it   will stay constant. In dreams, you can manipulate things with your mind;  try changing some element of the scenery as you would in a dream, or   try to fly. Trying to do these mental exercises from a waking state   feels silly and doesn’t work, but in a dream it can trigger you to   realize you are dreaming if you check to see if you can do these things and you can. Regularly check to see if you are dreaming during the day,  and check for these properties found only in dreams. Eventually, you   will ask the question during a dream and will become lucid.

Intentions  are helpful for the attainment of lucid dreaming. Before bed, enter   into your mind’s eye and find yourself on a red beach with a large red   3. A door with a glowing red C awaits you. Enter it, holding your   intention to lucid dream that night as you allow yourself to fall   asleep. When you attain lucidity, think back on the red C and the red 3.  This will associate these concepts with sleep. You can think on these red concepts in order to help with dream recall. These is called an anchor.  Anchors can be used to help keep you present during the dream and   remind you that you are lucid. Regularly think back on the red room with  the C; create a glowing C or 3 in your hand. The action of doing this grounds you in your dream and prevents you from losing your lucidity or  from waking up.

Additionally, you can check your dream journal for  patterns you are encountering during your natural dreams. These should  be your REM sleep dreams as these are the easiest to recall if you  weren’t lucid during them. Recognizing common types of dreams and dream  locations can help you recognize that you are dreaming.

Uses

Lucid  dreaming is fun. REM sleep dreams are vivid and highly creative. Lucid  dream states can be used to flesh out story ideas or to obtain inspiration.  The emotional vividness and the surreal ideas encountered in this state  of mind are ideal for creative inspiration, like to get inspiration for  an otherworldly landscape to draw or for a fictional place or character  for a story.

If you are going to use a lucid dream state for some  purpose, set your intention ahead of time. It can be fun to explore  dreams without an intention, but for goal directed purposes it is  important to set your intention or else you will forget while you are  maintaining your hold on your lucidity. Do you want to work on a story  idea? Okay. Do you want to focus on the plot, the setting, the theme, or  the characters?

You can focus on one element of your story that  you want to flesh out, or several. You can focus on them one at a time,  or all at once. It is difficult to hold many ideas in mind at once.  Reminding yourself of your story world, or the characters, or a scene  will cause it to manifest in your dream. Because dreams constantly shift  and evolve, it will immediately come to life and go in a direction you  barely control. This can be used for creative inspiration. That is how  one uses dreams - anything that manifests in the dreams suddenly comes  to life and takes on a mind of its own during a dream state. Interacting  with it intensifies this effect, leading to interesting ideas and  feelings.

#magick #witchcraft #witch #animism #shaman #shamanism #animist #occult #new age #dreams #dream #dream interpretation #carl jung #dream analysis #meditation #lucid #luciddream #lucid dreaming #lucid dream #astral #astral projection #astralprojection #oneiromancy #oneironaut #psychonautics #altered states #rem sleep #hedgewitch #hedgecraft #green witch

[ronnie-azumane]

Flower Rings

Hello everyone! I'm here with another Anisylum collab! This is the first time writing for my OG anime husband, so please go easy on me. But yeah! I hope y'all enjoy and check out the other works from the other creators participating!

CW: Abuse/beating, fluffy hurt/comfort, ATTACK ON TITAN MANGA SPOILERS, mentions of trauma, suicide, and death.

Life in the ghetto wasn’t a walk in the park. Sure, life could be worse, (Y/N) could be going hungry at night, slowly turning into skin and bones. (Y/N) could be shivering the night away in a flimsy tent with a single blanket to keep warm.

Although it’s a little hard to be grateful for what you have when it feels like the oppressor is always watching your every move.

It doesn’t take a genius to see the lack of justice in these ghettos provided by the Marleyan regime, however, young (Y/N) didn’t pay attention to her oppressors as much, they’re only a child after all. Why would they even want to be concerned about politics when the neighbors are playing a game of kickball?

Almost like clockwork, every week at precisely 5pm, the children born in the ghetto would gather in a courtyard and play kickball, with the ball being an old ball accidentally thrown over the fence years ago and the bases marked by old linens.

Kids of all ages gathered as usual at the court yard to divide out the teams and begin their game of ball. (Y/N) wasn’t the youngest there, but at seven years old, they were still young and scrawny, so it was no surprise that (Y/N) was one of the last ones picked.

(Y/N) sighed in relief, however, when they saw that Reiner was on their team. Reiner was three years older than (Y/N), and pretty much tied to their hip. Since both their mothers were friends growing up, they always had playdates together, playing with various figures and creating these elaborate plots to go along with them.

“We’re on the same team? Yes!” Reiner celebrates, jumping around excitedly as any ten year old would.

“You’re only celebrating because you’re too chicken to face me,” (Y/N) teased, sticking their tongue out.

A succession of ‘am not’s and ‘am to’s was promptly stopped when one of the older kids shouted that the game was about to start. Team Black would be kicking first while Team White would pitch.

(Y/N)’s favorite part of the game was kicking, so finding out that the Black Team was kicking first was music to their ears. They ran to the line, getting as close to the front as they could. Reiner held back, as he preferred catching the ball and running fast to get someone out.

(Y/N) was finally up to kick. Team Black had an out and kids on second and third base. If they scored, their team would get their first point.

The ball bounced a slight bit as it made its way toward (Y/N). (Y/N) wound back their leg and hit the ball back, aiming in between the second and third base. The ball flew and (Y/N) sprinted to first base.

What (Y/N) failed to realize was that Jameson, the eight year old boy that had a personal goal of making every day miserable for (Y/N), was waiting by first base.

As they ran toward the base, Jameson positioned himself to where his foot would ‘accidently’ get in the way of (Y/N)’s footing. Sure enough, (Y/N) stepped on his foot, causing them to lose their balance and fall to the ground before hitting the base.

“What the hell, (Y/N), you stepped on my foot!” Jameson shouted, landing a kick in (Y/N)’s side. (Y/N) yelped in pain as they curled into themself.

“You put your foot there on purpose,” (Y/N) sniffled as pain-filled tears leaked from their eyes.

“So what if I did? You still should have avoided it,” Jameson landed another kick to their side.

Reiner, who was zoned out looking at a bee buzzing around, snapped back to reality when he heard (Y/N) yelp in pain in the distance. Before he could think, he found himself running over to the two and punching Jameson square in the face.

Before Jameson could retaliate, Reiner picked up (Y/N) from the ground and ran away from the game, carrying them on his back. Deciding it was not worth the effort, Jameson let them run off as he got back to his game, but not before the team captain of the day switched him to outfield as punishment.

With (Y/N) on his back, Reiner ran to their self proclaimed happy place, if you could call anywhere in the ghetto happy. Near the entrance gate, there was a patch of grass where wildflowers grow, giving them a taste of the natural world that was unknown to them within the walls of the ghetto. He set them down and plopped next to their shuttering frame.

“How are you feeling, (Y/N), are you hurt? Do we need to go to the doctor?” Reiner asked.

“I’m hurt, but I don’t want to go to the doctor.”

“Are you still afraid that the doctor is going to give you a shot?” Reiner teased.

“Shut up! Needles are scary!” (Y/N) whined, causing Reiner to giggle.

Soon enough, the pain in (Y/N)’s side began to fade, and they focused themselves on making a flower crown while Reiner watched the Marleyan soldiers outside the gate train.

“My mama wants me to be a warrior, but I’m not too sure that's what I want to do,” Reiner sighed, lying all the way back on his back.

“How come? Isn’t becoming a warrior one of the best things an Eldian can do for Marley?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah, but that would mean I would have to work really hard, while buttheads like Jameson would get to play and make fun of you. It wouldn’t be fair!”

“Why are boys like Jameson so mean anyway? My mommy told me that it just meant that he liked me, but why would someone be mean to someone they liked?” (Y/N) asked.

“Is that a thing?” Reiner asks.

“That’s what mommy says,” (Y/N) finished their flower crown and unceremoniously flopped it onto Reiner’s head, earning a giggle from him. “I wouldn’t want to marry a guy like Jameson, I would want to marry a guy like you, Reiner, who’s nice to me.”

“Then how about we make a promise?” Reiner asked.

“A promise?”

“Yeah, like, we promise to marry each other now, and once we get big we actually do it?” Reiner’s cheeks were now bright red.

“Yeah! I like that! I promise to marry you, Reiner,” (Y/N) extended a pinky out.

Reiner crudely plucked a flower from the ground and tied the stem around (Y/N)’s finger. Reiner’s fingers were chubby and unskilled, so the flower ring didn’t turn out as pretty as the crown, yet (Y/N) still stared at it.

“And I promise to marry you, (Y/N).”

XXX

Reiner ended up joining the Warriors a few years later, to the dismay of (Y/N). The flower ring had since shriveled up beyond repair, but (Y/N) refused to let go of their promise, thinking that if the flower stayed in their possession, it would guarantee Reiner’s safe return home.

However, the mission that was estimated to take the four warriors a year or two to complete turned into a major failure with rumors stating that only one of them was making it home. However, (Y/N) didn’t have the time to mourn her lost friend, Marley was still causing conflict in both the battle front and the home front.

It wouldn’t be until after the Rumbling ended when (Y/N) would meet up with Reiner again. He was in the area negotiating peace with some other nations, and decided a late lunch and catch-up session with his childhood friend was in order.

“So, how was going through puberty like on an island without modern medicine?” (Y/N) asked shamelessly.

“What happened to hello?” Reiner asked, causing (Y/N) to erupt in laughter.

“I’m just sad I didn’t get to witness voice-crack Reiner,” (Y/N) wiped a tear from their eye, causing Reiner to groan.

They then began to catch up, retelling all their experiences from the past thirteen years. Reiner went into detail as to what it was like training with the man who almost killed all of humanity, his trauma, and even his suicide attempt while (Y/N) retold moments of agony in the ghetto, their dad getting drafted for one of the countless wars, and even confessed that they and Jameson dated at one point.

“You! And him!” Reiner stuttered.

“Apparently my mom was right, Jameson pretended he hated me because he couldn’t decipher his own feelings. Dumped his ass a while ago though, he started spending all his money on alcohol.”

“So I’m assuming you’re not seeing anyone?” Reiner asked.

“Not at the moment, why do you ask?”

“Well, (Y/N), I may have had ulterior motives to this lunch,” Reiner pulled out a small box from his pocket and set it on the table, inviting (Y/N) to open it up. Inside was a ring, with the centerpiece shaped as the flower that he tied onto (Y/N)’s finger all those years ago.

“What is this?” (Y/N) stuttered.

“You probably don’t remember, but one day, I gave you a flower ring with a promise. I’m sure it’s long gone by now.”

“Yeah, lost it in the rumbling. Are you really proposing to me right now?”

“No no no! This is just a reminder of that promise we made that afternoon. That promise helped me push through all the hardships I faced,” Reiner flailed his arms a bit, getting slightly flustered.

“So, a promise ring?”

“I promised I’d marry you, didn’t I?” Reiner asked as he pulled out his pinky. Smiling, (Y/N) slipped on the ring and interlocked their pinky with his.

“You did, Reiner, you did.”

#attack on titan #aot #aot spoilers #reiner x y/n #reiner braun #reiner x reader #reader insert #attack on titan x reader #h/c #server collab #I tried my best but classes start tomorrow and I'm lowkey nervous

[lacrimaomnis]

BRF Reading, 5/7/2021

I am planning to continue reading for the rest of the BRF members on how their July would be, but I had this question popping on my mind when I had my tea earlier today, so I feel like I need to draw on this. I've been seeing allegations and teas of Meghan did this, Meghan did that, she's crazy jealous towards Catherine, she's overly obsessed with William, she is abusive towards Harry, she wants to be the Queen Consort, etc etc yadda yadda. This honestly had me wondering, how does Meghan look at herself? What does she see when she sees herself in the mirror? How does she perceive herself? This is also one reading I'd like to try a new spread of cards, so there is also that.

As written, this is merely a speculation and therefore must be taken with a grain of salt. This speculation is not true until proven otherwise.

Naturally, my question is, how does Meghan perceive herself?

Cards drawn: Six of Pentacles, Three of Pentacles, Five of Wands, King of Wands, Three of Cups, The High Priestess, The Fool, Temperance, The Hanged Man, Knight of Pentacles

Remarks/Comment: I tell you, working with a spread where half of the cards are major arcana is honestly shit. So many energies to read from, so many energies pulling the reading this and that way.

To make it more digestible and bearable to read for us all (and for me to type), I will divide the cards I've drawn into two parts. I will start my analysis with the first part, and then I'll be going over to the second part, and then the conclusion will be an overall overview of the spread.

First part: Six of Pentacles, Three of Pentacles, Five of Wands, King of Wands, Three of Cups, The High Priestess.

This section of the spread is the so-called "the cross" part, where these cards represent the happenings of the subject's life, internally and externally.

Now, the cross part itself can be divided into two parts: the axis and the wheel. The axis is the two centre cards, which are the heart of the matter, the foundation of the reading, the energy of the reading, whatever the semantics are. The rest of the cards are the wheel, the events that revolve around the central issue.

First card: Six of Pentacles. This is the so-called "present situation" card, mostly about what is currently happening at the present time, and also reflects someone's state of mind and how they perceive the situation (or themselves). Now, this is interesting, because this reaffirms what I have been seeing a lot with other readers: that Meghan and Harry are in debt. Six of Pentacles is generally a card of generosity, self-care, sharing wealth, and charity -- but one of its meanings is also unpaid debts and that meaning just jumped out of the cards. As one of the two cards of the axis, this tells me that this is one of the two parts of the heart of the matter. Meghan and Harry are in debt and they cannot pay for it.

Second card: Three of Pentacles. The so-called "problem" card. Generally, this card represents teamwork and collaboration, but because of its place, this card tells me that Meghan perceives herself as working alone and without allies. There are disagreements, or to be more Shakespeare-ish, disharmony. Combined with the Six of Pentacles, this tells me that Meghan and Harry are in disharmony, probably because of the outstanding debts that they cannot pay.

Third card: Five of Wands. The card of fighting for the sake of fighting. This is the "past" card, and as such, this is also similar to the card of "past influence". There have been fighting in the past. There is a change. There is tension. This card tells us that everyone is fighting to be heard, but no one is listening. This is how Meghan viewed herself: that no one is listening to her. She has told herself in the past that she was a victim, that no one listened to her when she spoke, and she used it as a weapon in public. Remember how she told Oprah in that interview that she was not "heard"? That she was "belittled" and "bullied"? That the Royal Family "bullied" her by allegedly asking what Archie's skin colour would be?

Fourth card: King of Wands. This is the so-called future card. Along with the tenth card, this usually speaks about how the near future would impact the final resolution/the outcome. King of Wands is a card about someone who is a natural-born leader, a visionary, honoured, and an entrepreneur. So, this card could mean that in the future, Meghan perceives herself and wants to be perceived as all these good things. But in reality, she is someone who is impulsive and ruthless. She doesn't think things through and cannot decide which lies to keep feeding the public with, which is why her stories are riddled with lies and holes. And the more she gives in to her impulsiveness, the more that everyone can see those holes in her stories. And even if she decides on one lie to keep and feed the public with, that can be debunked. Very easily.

Fifth card: Three of Cups. This is the "conscious" card of the cross part, talking about assumptions and desires. Cups are the suit of emotions, and Three of Cups is strongly associated with celebration, and it is an interesting card to come up with, to say the least. She desires to be celebrated. The centre of attention. But, this could also say that she's been partying very hard or is just overspending in general, which could answer why she had those outstanding debts she cannot pay.

Sixth card: The High Priestess. This is the so-called "unconscious" card, the underlying reasons for the manifestation of desires/assumptions seen in the fifth card. The High Priestess is a feminine card, speaking about intuition, the subconscious mind, secrets, withdrawal, and silence. This is interesting because at least for me, the cards do not match. When we celebrate something, it is because of something that has been answered. A birth, a promotion, a big event that brings such joy that it is worth celebrating. The High Priestess is the card of being quiet, trusting your intuition, and discarding all the unnecessary influence in order to understand your mind and what your intuition is telling you. This tells me that Meghan's desires and her underlying unconscious, the things she cannot control, are not matching, meaning she does not even understand what she wants.

But, as I am not confident in this interpretation, I decided to draw a clarifier on The High Priestess.

Clarified by: Three of Wands. Man, what's up with the Threes today? This card is about progress, expansion, foresight, but also about the lack of foresight. This tells me that Meghan lacks the foresight to see ahead, and so she doesn't understand what she wants and how to get there.

This part explains the second part of the spread, the so-called "staff" section. This part is given context by the cross-part, and this part is generally about someone's life outside of the situation presented by the first part of the spread.

Second part: The Fool, Temperance, The Hanged Man, Knight of Pentacles.

Honest to god, I do not like working on this part. The energy here is confusing, it feels like four people are pulling me in different directions at the same time. I've tried my best.

First card: The Fool. This is the card of beginnings, innocence, holding back, recklessness and risk-taking. Position wise, this is the card of the so-called "influence of self", so this card shows us that Meghan put herself in the situation represented by the six earlier cards by being reckless.

Second card: Temperance. This is the card of balance, moderation, patience. This is also the card of imbalance and excess. As the card of external influence, this led me to believe that people close to Meghan may have been advising her (and probably advising Harry as well) to not live excessively. To temper their emotions and not to get set off by the slightest of things. Now, as we all know, this is not their forte.

Third card: The Hanged Man. The card of waiting, stagnancy, resistance, indecision, and sacrifice. This is the card of hopes and fears -- so this card can be interpreted two ways. First is the interpretation of hope: this card might be interpreted that Harry and Meghan are hoping that people would be waiting to hear from them (aka positive PR), that everyone would bend their backs and knees at their whim, available at their every beck and call. That everyone would sacrifice everything for them.

The second interpretation would be that the fear of sacrifice. They feared sacrifice, particularly Meghan. Meghan does not want to leave Hollywood and the US, the reason she moved back to California soon after Megxit. I am thinking that she wants to be a non-working royal while she still has those juicy royal connections, something that we are all familiar with. She is asking for benefits but does not want the sacrifice that comes with it.

Fourth card: Knight of Pentacles. The so-called card of "possible outcome", this card is closely tied with the fourth card of the first part, the King of Wands. The Knight of Pentacles is the card of hard work, productivity, routine, self-discipline, boredom, and perfectionism. The King of Wands tells us that Meghan is way too impulsive to be able to be productive and do something more worthwhile other than doing PRs attacking BRF and sending out the same narrative again and again (productivity). She is too impulsive to have any kind of self-discipline and to accept responsibility.

Conclusion: This is one long and exhausting reading. Meghan and Harry are presumably in some kind of situation, money-wise, most probably outstanding debt. But instead of acknowledging that, Meghan still insists on pushing the narratives to make her the Diana 2.0, the People's Princess, the person that BRF throws away because she stands against "injustice", and above all, a victim. She desires to be celebrated, but she doesn't even know why she wants to be celebrated; she doesn't even know what she truly wants. She lacks the foresight to get what she desires. She wants the benefit of being a working royal but does not want the sacrifice that comes with it. So yes, she perceives herself as someone so important that she must always get what she wants, but she doesn't even know what she wants.

#reading: brf #g reads #this is one long ass reading and i am very exhausted #good night everyone

[scone-lover]

Happy Birthday to Holding Out For a Hero!!! ❤️

art by @subparselkie

I published the first chapter of my longest and most popular fic just about a year ago! And I bet you always wanted to see some shitty outlines. Right? Just giving the people what they want. My brain is chaos and now you all have to be subject to it. Strap in, boys. 😂 Everything’s below the cut!

Read Holding Out for a Hero on AO3

This fic was born because I saw a tumblr post about a hero and villain who are roommates and I just had to Snowbazzify it. I had so many random ideas in my brain, and I’d been engaging with fan content for the CO fandom for a few months now.

So I started off by opening a blank document and writing the Prologue, featuring Shep. I had a few basic facts in mind: Shepard’s a reporter, Simon’s a hero, Baz is a villain, Mage is an evil mayor. And that’s. Literally it. I made it up as I went along. I actually still do that with fics, even though I do try to outline in more detail now—I have to write a scene or two that’s been bouncing around in my head to get a feel for the story, then I can give it a direction.

The document is 337 pages on google docs, LOL. 

Here’s the first ever set of notes I had. I wrote this on March 29, 2020, directly after typing out the Prologue! 

Like I said, absolute chaos. The third Simon bullet point originally said something like “also I’m a superhero and only Penny knows,” then the following day I changed it to “but he’s so handsome? what do???” 

I didn’t publish the prologue until writing 5-6 additional chapters, but I think the only major change was going from Baz being “The Vampire” to just “Vampire.”

Chapter 1 was originally called “not a bloody avenger” before I decided to do the rhyming thing. I actually decided that because I wrote “counter spray and earl grey” down for chapter 2, unintentionally rhyming it, and then @ashspren-writes was like, “you should make them all rhyme”... so I did. 😂 For 25 more chapters.

I have a section labeled “quickie backgrounds” in which I finally sat down halfway through writing Chapter 2 (the blade/vamp fight) and said to myself, okay, maybe they should have backstories or something. Or like, reasons for being the hero and villain. Right, yeah, those would be good to make this into a coherent story. In the first version of that, Simon was a sports coach on the side, not a baker, and Baz was an English teacher. LOL. 

Once I had all that, I literally just wrote for four days. There’s a weird kind of magic to your first-ever fic for a fandom. All your ideas and thoughts and wishes for these characters comes to a head as you suddenly have an outlet for the first time. It’s why I think people’s first works are often their best or most creative or most profound. The first couple chapters took some time and a couple 1am epiphanies, but once I got into a rhythm it was quick going. I wrote a lot of it in a linear manner, but after writing the first Simon/Baz scene (watching the news together in the flat), I doubled back and added Simon going to Penny’s house after meeting the Mage so that I could work her in as a character earlier.

Fast forward to April 5, I had 5-ish chapters written? I thought this fic would have like... 10 total. And be less than 20k. Haha. Ha. I asked @ashspren-writes to beta read for me - I’d been bouncing ideas off her since the beginning - and then I started brainstorming titles. 

The list actually started with that second one. It took a whole 24 hours to decide on the final title. 😂 I thought it might be too cheesy. But hey, it worked out -- now I can’t open AO3 without the damn song getting stuck in my head. 

I worked a LOT with my friend @ashspren-writes on this fic - we were friends long before fandom, and she was the only person I knew at the time who had read CO and was involved in the fandom. I didn’t even have a tumblr at this point, I interacted mostly through Instagram and AO3!

On April 6, right before I posted, I realized that if I was going to actually put this on AO3 I should probably know where the story was going. So I made sure Chapters 1-6 were complete, then I wrote one bullet point per chapter up until 12 or so -- you can read those below.

Then I texted ashspren THIS mess:

Some silly notes:

Then I have a section that says “Why do they even have roommates?” because it was a few chapters in and I hadn’t justified richboy Baz and superhero Simon... living together. Cool cool cool

I also did this cool little writing experiment I want to share. Remember that line in Fangirl that’s like—“Once Cath wrote what she thought was a swordfight, and Wren turned it into a love scene.” (Or maybe it was the other way around? LOL.) Anyway, there’s swordfights in this, AND love scenes, so I wanted to do a play on that for two alternate ways Simon might figure it out.

I have a huge Deleted Section in which I wrote an alternate version of Simon and Baz finding out about their secret identities. I have one version where Baz figures it out first—it’s a very tropey yet angsty scene where Simon comes home totally wrecked from a fight, and Baz realizes as he’s helping with the wounds that he caused them. I actually like it a lot, but it ended up not quite fitting with the vibe of the fic (and I rather like them finding out through kissing better). :) I also had an idea where Simon figures it out because Vampire smells like cedar and bergamot, but it really just wasn’t interesting enough. 😂

Now onto... Outlines. 

I say that hesitantly because I think these are literally a disgrace to outlines everywhere. These are the baby ones I wrote on April 6 right before posting. Some are more detailed than others, clearly...

Gotta live up to my username somehow. 

We do love to see it. ​

I love this next one: 😂 CHAOS, SCONEY.

THEN, I wrote this as a very long text to ashspren, when I realized no sconey, this is not going to be under 20k words. LOL. 

And then I did A Dumb Thing and I put it on AO3, having absolutely NO CLUE WHERE THE STORY WAS GOING. 😂 

This is my favorite heading on the document.

Another one of my favorite notes in there.

This next part wasn’t even divided into chapters yet, it’s just a word vomit. I’m so sorry you have to read this mess.

Hahaha, once upon a time there was angst in this story. 😂 

And then I realized my true calling: bakery fluff.

Then and only then, I actually decided to divide into those things called Chapters. This is the point where I made the admission to mr scone (boyfriend, not husband lol, we just call him that) that I write gay fanfiction, whoops, and can he please help me because he’s a HUGE DC comics fan and knows everything. And of course, he was super chill about it, and he did. He really did. He’s the genius behind Egghead!!! And also the entire Mage-Humdrum-Supercomputer/Politics plot. I’m serious. I did none of that.

I can’t even say I’m trying anymore. “Flort”??? I AM LITERALLY NOT TRYING.

Why yes sconey, so very specific. 😂 

This is what qualifies as a “good” outline for me, that heading was just for my betas. Isn’t it fabulous to see that some of this actually made it in and I’m capable of planning in advance? 😂 

Get ready for the shock of your life, though -- I actually have a SUUUUPER detailed outline for the two finale chapters. Because, well, it’s the finale. Wrapping up loose ends does actually require planning, WHO KNEW. Also I’d been writing and posting for a couple months at this point and it had been several more weeks in quarantine so maybe I’d regained some sense of reality? It’s like two pages but still shittily written, so I’ll just share a couple tidibits.

That bullet point is extraordinarily cracky BUT actually, Baz shooting up from the cloud like an awesome fucking hot dramatic person was one of the very first scenes I envisioned for this fic :D 

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my writing brain! It’s a terrifying place. I love all of you that say Holding Out For a Hero is a well-crafted masterpiece, but respectfully, no ❤️ 

(Though I swear I AM super, super happy with how it turned out - it’s still my favorite thing I’ve ever written. Read it here!!!)

[purpleyellow]

Bon Voyage season 3

BTS 8th member

Sunny’s masterlist

“Sunny during Bon Voyage 3″ Thank you for the anon who requested this!!

a/n: I’ll also be writting for Season four so please look foward to that. Your opinion is very important for me, send feedback and requests anytime 💜 Also, don’t be shy and interact a little, ask box is always open

“I hate the way we pick rooms” Sunny mumbled laying her head on the table while waiting for her turn.

“We tried doing it differently but it didn’t work” Jin laughed at her exasperation and the producer told them Hobi was done calling out RM to do the same.

They had arrived at Malta some hours ago and after walking around trying to find the hotel the girl was more than ready to take a nap, though she doubted she would be able to actually rest.

“I’m picking the second room” Jungkook repeated for the third time and Sunny made a mental note to not go there. They already shared a room in the dorms, she needed a change of company, although the best outcome would be not having any.

“RM is done” The producer called out and Jimin walked inside. 

“Oh, I’m the last one” the girl stretched out and stood up, waiting for the producer to indicate the other’s turn. Placing a hand over her eyes to block the Mediterranean sun, she leaned against Jin

“Let’s go to the room on the second floor” Jin whispered to her, making sure the other boys couldn’t hear them. “you’re more put together than the others, I don’t want to stay with someone messy”

Sunny thought he did have a point, but to her, the thought of being alone was still very tempting. Before she could agree with him, the producer called him out and he walked inside leaving her alone.

After they were all done, she was urged inside and stood in the living room thinking about her options.

“Jungkook said he was going on that room, so no thank you” Sunny whispered to the camera pointing to the room. “the second floor does have more beds, so maybe it’s a safer option. Let’s just hope not many people think like that”

Walking upstairs as quietly as possible, so it wouldn’t give away where she was going, even though she was the last one, she pushed open the big doors and revealed the inside of the room. Sitting on a double bed were Jin and Jimin and standing next to them was Yoongi.

“It appears that my plan had a problem” Jin said in between laughs as the reality of four people having to share a room hit her.

“Why did I listen to you?” She groaned dropping her body on the second double bed. At least they had enough room for all of them.

Laughing at their situation, the four of them left their room to see who was paired with who and let’s just say Sunny was more than disappointed when she found out Jungkook had a room for himself.

“So, where are we going?” Sunny asked walking along Yoongi and Jungkook, it was near sunset and the group had divided into two pairs and a trio (since Taehyung wasn’t able to arrive the same day as them).

“I saw this pub we could go to, you know, grab a couple of drinks, I’ll show you two whiskey,” Suga said not looking at her.

Looking over at Jungkook, he shrugged his shoulders to her indicating he was fine with whatever and the girl agreed as well. After spending the day sightseeing with Namjoon and J-hope, sitting down seemed to be a very good option.

Reaching the pub, Yoongi did most of the ordering, and they tried different kinds of drinks. “I was feeling like the odd one out, cause I’m here wearing white while you’re both in black but like, who only brings black clothes to a hot city?” Sunny said at some point making Suga laugh at her annoyed expression.

“Malta is pretty hot, I was sweating like a pig this afternoon ” Jungkook said leaning on the counter.

“Probably because you were walking with black sweat pants, a black shirt, and a freaking black bucket hat, just like you are right now” She deadpanned.

“Well, you’re starting to get serious about clothes, maybe you should stop with the drinks ” Yoongi said taking her cup away from her, aware that she wasn’t really drunk, but truthfully he just wanted to go home and sleep after the busy day.

Paying the tab, the three parted ways, Suga going back to the hotel while the youngers walked around the restaurant area and watched some buskers. Since they weren’t really talking and just feeling the atmosphere of the place, Sunny took a few seconds to take in the reality she was in.

Looking at the people around her, she saw many families on vacation as well as friends enjoying their time in a foreign country. Moments like this were kind of weird to her since she was, in theory, doing the same thing as them, but, in reality, even their little leisure time had to be entertaining enough so people would find comfort watching it. Deep down she truly didn’t mind it, her resting time would come at some point, but it was something fun to realize.

Turning around, she saw the producer looking at them expectantly, probably bored by the time they were silent, so Sunny turned around to chat with Jungkook. Seeing his daydreaming gaze on a little performing stand, the girl was quick to realize what he was thinking.

“Do you want me to ask them if you can sing?” Sunny asked taking him out of his trance.

“Uh, no, it’s okay” He said nodding along, and when she kept looking at him he just shrugged “I was thinking it would be a different experience to perform without people really knowing who I am”

“Let’s do it then” She waved him and started walking towards the people who were singing, but got stopped by him holding her arm and preventing her from moving.

“I don’t know about it. I had some drinks so it might not come out good, plus it’s their place, maybe they won’t feel comfortable with me taking over.”

“Kookie, it’s an open mic thing, I’m sure they’ll let you take part. Let’s just ask them and we’ll move on from there”

“They’re starting a new song, we should wait for it to finish before going over” the boy said linking arms with her and sitting on a bench.

Quickly texting the group chat, Sunny told them what was going to happen, hoping someone would come over and help her convince the boy.

“You’re our main vocalist, therefore you’re going to do great. Plus, I don’t think anyone would notice if you sang the wrong tone, well, except me of course” She said trying to boost some courage into him.

“Come with me then,” He said excitedly and Sunny widened her eyes.

“No, you’re the one who should-” The girl starter but got cut by Jin and J-Hope running towards them.

“Did he do it? When are you doing it?” The asked stopping near them.

“We’re waiting for the song to end. And Sunny is going with me” Jungkook smiled and much to Sunny dismay, the older boys loved the idea.

It took some convincing from them, and allegedly, Sunny said if she was going to do it, Jin would have to go as well, but that backfired when he said he would have to pick her clothes for the rest of the trip. So, not wanting to wear an “I love Malta” shirt for more than she needed to, Sunny agreed to go with the boy.

Their performance of “Lost Stars” was a bit messy, taking into consideration they didn’t share lines beforehand and were constantly trying to get into tune despite being slightly intoxicated. But like she had said before, it was still very beautiful, a few tourists stopped to listen to them and even clapped at the end.

“Oh, my! I can’t believe we did that” Sunny exclaimed hiding he face in her hands while Jungkook laughed and thanked the little audience.

“Wait! I want to go to the sea with you” Sunny said from her chair and skipped through some rocks to get to J-Hope and Jimin.

Jungkook, Jin, and Namjoon were doing some fishing, and Taehyung, who had finally joined them, was by the rocks doing whatever. Yoongi, unfortunately, had some family issues and had to go back to Korea.

Jumping into the water, Sunny had a two seconds heart attack when she realized the sea was quite deep, but remembering the snorkeling lessons they had the day prior she recovered and swam to the top. 

“Oh, damn, it’s deep,” She said laughing and clinging onto Hoseok’s back, “I thought I was going to drown at some point”

“I said it was deep, but you were already in the water” He laughed while holding to an inflatable life ring and putting on some diving goggles “Are you coming, Jimin?”

“Yes, wait” He answered jumping in more delicately than the other members. 

The two boys started swimming and recording the fish underwater, while Taehyung joined Sunny with an inflatable of his own. 

“Being a mermaid would be so much fun” he said out of nowhere, making the girl laugh “I’m serious, you’d get to spend the day in the warm water with the fish”

“True, but the water during sunrise must be everything but warm. Also, how do mermaids poop?” She said making V widen his eyes in realization.

“HOW DO THEY?” He exclaimed and Sunny shrugged her shoulders.

“I guess we’ll never know.”

“Hey, we’re getting off to see if they caught anything” Jimin screamed and they both swam to where he was. 

Getting off as well, Sunny’s swimming t-shirt and leggings uncomfortably clung to her body, but due to the filming going on, she couldn’t just put a bikini on and call it a day. One of the producers, thankfully, gave her a towel and she tried to dry herself off as much as possible.

“Did you give up?” Hobi asked Jungkook, who was just sitting around the crew, and before he could agree Jin screamed from far away.

Apparently he had caught a tiny fish, but Sunny couldn’t tell because when she started walking to where he was, she stepped on a particularly sharp rock that made a cut on the heel of her foot.

“Argh” She said hissing and raising her leg to check out what had happened. One of the crew members nearby approached her and helped her sit down so they could access the cut.

“It seems pretty superficial, it’s not bleeding too much” Someone said and she saw the boys looking back to see where she was.

“What happened?” Namjoon screamed when he saw the agglomeration around the girl.

“She scraped her feet. Be careful around the rocks” The main producer screamed back and the boys ignored his warning, running back to where she was sitting.

“Is it okay?” “Does she need stitches?”

“Nah, I’m sure a bandage will do it. You just won’t be able to go in the water for today at least” Someone from the medical team spoke and the boys sighed in relief

“I saw something about seawater helping with cicatrization. Maybe this is the right time to check if it works” Sunny smiled hopefully and the nurse ignored her, shattering her dreams of going back to the sea.

Walking back to the house where they would be camping in front of, the boys divided themselves to set up the tents and go grocery shopping for what they needed. Not really interested in doing either of them, Sunny sat next to Jin and watched him trying to light up a fire.

“Are you not going to do anything?” Jimin asked approaching them and the girl lifted up her leg, showing off the pink bandage.

“I’m hurt,” She said with fake disappointment since she couldn’t even feel the cut anymore.

“Lighting up the fire doesn’t require standing” Jin fought back not looking up from the single burning charcoal.

“I think you should put more, Oppa. That’s going to last about a second” Sunny pointed out and looked for the camping instructor, who only gave her a thumbs up affirming her theory. 

Dumping half the bag of charcoal, Jin smiled happy at the increase of warmth, since the sun was setting and it was becoming quite windy. 

“All right, she dropped her cheesecake” Sunny mumbled to the rhythm of Seesaw after some seconds in silence and Jimin laughed from where he was helping Jungkook with the tent.

“That’s not how it goes Sunny”

“I know, but I saw someone online saying it sounds like that,” She told him and kept mumbling the melody of Suga’s song. 

Sitting on the edge of the boat, Sunny watched Namjoon and Jungkook trying to balance themselves on the flyboard for the first time. “That seems hard”

“Jungkook is doing fine” Jin pointed the younger out, who was able to float a few feet over the sea before dropping back in “Staying out of the water for a long time must be hard. But they’re doing okay”

As he said that, Namjoon was able to go up a little bit more, but before he could celebrate, something happened and he fell face-first into the water.

After the first pair, Jimin and Taehyung went up, both of them getting the hang of the sport very quickly, even being able to perform little stunts while seamlessly floating.

Jin didn't have as much luck though, he failed to go up many times and constantly fell on his face and back. But Sunny thought it was admirable that he was having fun through all of it, making her appreciate his carefree personality even more.

Hoseok seemed to do fine like the others, but he was unusually stiff and didn't even try to invent new moves or ascend even more like the others did.

Finally, it was the girl's turn. Standing on the side of the boat, all six members present started cheering for her and telling her not to hurt herself (thank Jungkook for that). As the motor of the board started working, she tried to remember what the instructors had told them beforehand and keep her body as stiff as possible, managing to float enough for only her knees down to stay underwater. 

Unfortunately, that didn't work for too long, seeing as she fell backward and shallowed a lot of seawater.

"It's okay. Keep your core very tight but let your feet relax a little" the female instructor told her through the helmet she was wearing "It's best to go with the flow than to fight against it"

Nodding along, Sunny tried to wipe the salt water from her eyes and went up again, this time managing to float a few feet away from the surface. 

This time, she let the water that was coming out from the board guide the way she was moving for a few seconds before the noise of one of the boys screaming broke her out of her concentration. 

Falling into the water, Sunny tried not to stress too much, following the instructor’s voice as much as possible and successfully doing a few spins.

“I think there’s water in my ear” She said as the other instructor helped her get on the boat and someone threw a towel on her head.

“You did good. Got the hang of it much faster than me” Jin praised her while trying to dry her hair with his towel.

“Yeah, but every time I looked at the boat, all I could see was Kookie’s half pink hair” Sunny laughed slapping the older boy’s hands away from her hair “It was inevitable not to laugh and fall back into the water”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you dye yours when we go back” Jungkook screamed from the other side of the boat.

The Malta trip was reaching its end, and just like usual, they had a special diner at the end. Since the producers kept telling them about how the view was special and so, Sunny thought they would eat dinner somewhere high, where they could see the city from the windows, and to some extent she was right. 

Except they didn’t need any windows since they were eating in a suspended table, 40 meters over the city.

Sitting next to Jin, the girl tried her best not to look down at the city and get a sensation compared to vertigo. Rather focusing on Hoseok who was sitting straight ahead of her, and eating her food without dropping anything.

“Breath a little Sunny” Jimin laughed at her and she rolled her eyes “I didn’t know you were scared of heights”

“I’m really not. I just don’t enjoy looking down” She said and tried to get more comfortable on the chair. “It’ll pass by”

“We can start with reading the letters if you guys are done eating” The producer called out from the end of the table.

“Jungkook is still eating his dessert, let’s wait for him and we’ll be good” RM told him but the boy just shook his head.

“I’m good, let’s do it now” He nodded to emphasize he was done and swigged his chair from one side to the other, clearly comfortable with the extreme situation they were in.

The producing team passed by some computers before they started the segment and soon a video of Yoongi was playing. Truth be told, Sunny didn’t focus too much on what he was saying, instead fondly smiling at his mannerism and cute face, moments like this she understood the importance of each of them in making their team balanced.

Deciding to start with Jin, they started reading the letters they had written beforehand. Each of them was told to address the letter to themselves, individually, and activities like this particularly made the girl understand even better her members. Each of them brought their own feelings in a light way, their personalities being well portraited by their words.

When it came to Sunny’s turn, she took the folded letter from the producer on her right and unfolded slowly, trying to remember what she had written previously so she wouldn’t get caught by surprise.

“Hmmm, this is awkward,” She said making the boys laugh “HyeSun”

“Ooh she’s calling herself by her real name” J-Hope said excitedly while clapping

“HyeSun, first of all, how are you doing? I hope you’re fine and happy. Please make sure to remind yourself that leaning on the people around you is important, there’s nothing wrong with asking for help every once in a while. Also, there’s nothing wrong with not having control over things, I know you became a little better at going with the flow these past years but there’s still a long way to go. Please don’t take for granted the love you receive and remember that you should be a source of light for others. Stay strong, stay healthy, stay positive. Love, Sunny.”

(i had to include the gif, cause i just wheezed when he did this)

END OF THE TRIP INTERVIEW

1. What did you think when you heard Malta?

“Is that in Europe? I had no idea where it was”

2. First impression of Malta.

“It’s really hot. As soon as we stepped out of the airport I felt like I was being toasted alive”

3. What’s the most memorable thing in Malta?

“The beaches were amazing, and the time we had with all eight of us was really special, as much as the trip was amazing I found myself wanting to tell something to the missing member at the time. I also really liked going to that pub with Yoongi Oppa and Kookie Oppa, we don’t really hang out together as a trio and I wish I had spent more time with him before he went back”

“Do you have something to say to Suga?”  The producer asked from behind the scenes.

“Oppa, I know you see me as a lightweight, but let’s go drinking back in Korea. Friendship is Irish Bomb”

4. You are better at being on the show

“This is the third time we’re doing BonVoyage, so I guess I got more comfortable with traveling and having new experiences. Also, this is probably the trip I spoke English the most, I guess I didn’t want for others to translate since I could do it anyways.” 

5. Busking in Malta

“I was kind of forced into it, but I guess it was nice” She laughed with the producer who was following them that night “I never thought about doing something like that, but the experience was for sure very different from performing as an Idol. That night people didn’t care about who was singing, they enjoyed my voice for what it was, without crazy costumes and dance moves. Yeah… it was nice”

6. How was traveling in a couple?

“We spend a lot of time together as a group, so having more one on one time was very interesting. I personally liked going out with Jin Oppa and just walking around meeting new people, not having a destination in mind isn’t my favorite thing to do, but I really enjoyed how we did it”

7. Members driving on their own.

“It was interesting for sure. I found myself stressing out sometimes because of how often we would miss directions and I worried we would get lost, but in the end, we managed to help each other out. Next time I’ll have someone teaching me how to drive. Imagine how cool it would be, learning how to drive in a foreign country”

8, How did you feel when having dinner in the skies?

“I never knew I was scared of heights, and I still don’t think I am. But being suspended for a very long amount of time with nothing but a loose belt was very nerve-wracking for me. We had some family bonding moments that I’ll cherish forever, but that was a once in a lifetime thing”

“Never again?”

“Never again”

“What if we set it as the next trip’s dinner?”

“Then I’ll cry until you change your minds” She giggled with the staff.

9. How was this trip to Malt?

“I managed to forget a lot of things I was stressing about before we left, it’s truly refreshing to go back to work with a clear mind and relaxed body. Also, I got the most tanned I’ve ever been, so I’ll take it as a win”

10. What does Bon Voyage mean to you?

“A way of connecting with my members and being more carefree in the way I act and think”

11. What would you do next time?

“I guess it depends on the place we go to, I’d like to go to a spa maybe. It would be kind of boring to watch unless it’s one of those places that have very different treatments then that would be fun”

12. Your message to your fans

“Hi, ARMY! I hope you got to relax from your reality while watching us being stupid. This was a very needed break for all of us and I’m really glad we got to take you guys along. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to do this, I wish you’re healthy and happy, let’s meet soon”

#bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts 8th member #bts #bts additional member #bts addition #bts au #bts oc #bts female addition #bts female member #bts female oc #kpop addition #kpop oc #kpop au #kpop female oc #kpop imagines #k pop oc #k pop au #k pop addition #female!koc #female!addition #female!oc #female!kpop #jungkook imagine #jisung imagines #Sunny

[fascinatingbonanza]

Bonanza chronology

(so far, which is the first 5 seasons)

As someone quite interested in history, I always enjoy stories set in the past and I always like to know when exactly in the past they are set. So recently I found myself trying way to much to figure out when does "Bonanza" actually take place. And It seems to be a far more difficult problem than I initially thought. But here's what I've got so far, after watching 5 seasons.

But then, as I was watching the series episode after episode, I quickly realised, that this 'canonical chronology' is bullshit and that time in "Bonanza" works in mysterious and extremely convoluted ways.

Generally the series takes place roughly somewhere in the 1860s. The first half of the decade to be a bit more precise, somewhere right before and during the American Civil War (something that is occasionally brought up in the episodes). That's literally what wikipedia says. However, as I dived a little into the fanpages and whatnot, I discovered that there seems to be a some sort of a more specific, canonical, chronology that basicly says that the pilot ("A Rose for Lotta") is set in 1859, then the first season is 1860, the second - 1861, the third - 1862 and so on.

(To be honest, that's quite cool actually, because it would mean that the series takes place exactly 100 years before it's premiere)

To realize that the canonical chronology just doesn't apply to the actual show, you only have to watch the first two seasons, where some episodes have literally a written year at the beginning.

We have it in season's one "San Francisco":

And that's ok, I mean, yeah, the first season (supposedly set in 1860) is coming to an end and now we are getting into the next year. It makes sense.

It still makes sense in the second season where we have "The Courtship", again with a date at the beginning:

Don't know why would they say it again, but all right, it's still 1861, no problem here.

And then, just two episodes later, comes "Bank Run" with this audacity:

What on earth happened here??? They just totally skipped 1862 and now we're a year later, with no explanation or a reason. And that's the moment when you realize that there is no such thing as 'linear chronology' in "Bonanza".

Especially when you also take into account all those stories involving real historical figures which were quite often in the first season. Sometimes the show just doesn't really care about historical facts and for example Lotta Crabtree (from "A Rose for Lotta") in 1859 would be only 12 years old. "The Julia Bulette story" is a bit closer to history altrough Bulette's death was changed a lot as in reality she died in 1867. Mark Twain, who appeard in "Enter Mark Twain", in reality visited Virginia City in 1863, so again, why is this a part of the first season which takes place in 1860?

Then you also have episodes which literally bring up real historical events, but they do it in such a clumsy way, that it's just painful. The one episode that strikes me the most with it is propably "A House Divided" which obviously quotes Lincoln's famous speech. Ben Cartwright even reads this speech in a brand new newspaper, but guess what, it's a speech from 1858, which is before the Comstock Lode was even discovered, so how can this whole episode be set around supplying the south with silver?! (But since it is about supplying the south with silver, I assume it must be around 1861, right at the start of the war)

After the first season "Bonanza" slowed down a bit with those 'history lessons', so in the second one there isn't really anything that could suggest any particular date (apart from "The Courtship" and "Bank Run" that I mentioned earlier). And maybe events from the second season do actually happen in 1861, as the canonical chronology would like it to.

But then comes my beloved third season, and boi oh boi, does it make an even greater mess. In "The Frenchman" the title character (apparently a reincarnation of Francois Villion) reads his last poem and starts with:

So we go back in time now? How nice. October 17th 1860, they couldn't be more explicit with it.

Towards the end of the season, we also get a little throw back to Bonanza's history lessons with "Look to the Stars" which tells a story of young Albert Michelson, future physicist and a Nobel Prize winner, who happend to live in Virginia City somewhere in the 1860s. The episode specifically focuses on his efforts to become a student at the Annapolis Naval Academy, which he started in 1869, so we can assume that this episode takes place around 1868-69. That's again a long jump in time.

The fourth season gives us even more specific dates and events to go over. First of all, right at the beginning, we have "The First Born", personally one of my very favourites, but that's not important here. The important thing is that Clay tells Joe that he was fighting in a war in Mexico:

But you know, that war in Mexico was kinda spread over time (from 1861 to 1867) so just mentioning it isn't quite enough to give us a more narrow period of time. Fortunately, Clay later tells just enough detail to do it:

So it's not all over yet, it's just that moment when the royalists won and the French took over Mexico for a while. From my very general knowlege about this I can guess that it's somewhere after 1863 then. Not much though. I like to think it's 1863 or 1864.

But all right, that may be to much guessing. Let's focus on those more obvious hints.

"The War Comes to Washoe" is one of those episodes that mention the Civil War and this time it tells a story of Nevada becoming a state. There's that voting and all, and basically it means that it's 1864, because that is when Nevade became a state (or maby 1863, because from thet voting to actually becoming a state it could've been a longer process). Just like that.

But the one episode that surprised me the most with the fact that it gives us a specific date is "The Last Haircut". And you can miss it, but right at the beginning we see an interesting banner:

So it's February 2nd, 1868... Well, that was easy. But again, a huge jump in time.

The fifth season greets us with another completely nonsensical historical figure appearance in "A Passion for Justice". From what I know, Charles Dickens never went west during his visits to America, but whatever. They wanted Charles Dickens in Virginia City so they put Charles Dickens in Virginia City. For the record, he was in America in 1842 and in 1868, so I guess we can pretend it's his 1868 visit. But still, it's just absurd.

But this season is mostly known for it's Laura and Will subplots, and you know what? We can actually precisely tell when it takes place. At the beggining of "The Waiting Game" we see Laura's husband's grave:

And look! February 20th, 1861! So that's when it all started. Later Adam says that it's been four months since Frank died, so we have June 1861. Then in "The Pressure Game" they celebrate the 4th of July, and in "Triangle" it is said that it had been a year since Adam gave Peggy her pony so now it must be around June 1862. And since at this point it all conects to Will's subplot, then "Return to Honor", "The Roper" and "The Companeros" must've happen somewhere inbetween.

Meanwhile there's also "The Prime of Life" about building the transcontinental railroad, and since we know that it reached Reno in 1868, then I guess the episode must be set somewhere right before that.

And to top it all off, in the season's finale, "Walter and the Outlaws", we get that one useless piece of information that Obie had last seen his sister in 1843, and it's been 16 years since then. So by easy maths we can say that the episode is set in 1859, just like the show's pilot.

And that's all for the first five seasons. What we get form it, is that "Bonanza" diefinietly doesn't have any chronology and that this canonical one is just right out of the blue.

To sum it up I can say that this show is just made out of random Catwright's adventures from several years and in no chronological order whatsoever. It's funny when you start to think about it and for example realise that when the Laura/Will story takes place, many of the adventures from previous seasons hasn't even happen yet.

Of course there's also four prequels that tell the stories about Ben's wives, but I think I'll leave it for some other time, because while talking about it, I would also have to talk about the ages of each Cartwright and generally it's a whole different complicated subject.

Also, if now there are episodes happening as late as 1867 and 1868, then when exactly did Adam leave the Ponderosa? Well that's something I'll have to think about while watching the 6th season. I hope there will be some answers to that.

[English isn't my first language so please excuse any mistakes. And I know there must be some.]

#bonanza #rambling on the show and episodes #60s tv #60s tv shows

[noctomania]

I want you to understand the cause and effect of what has led to what is going on in texas at least re: abortion laws.

First off let me clarify: Roe v Wade was not law...yet. When you see a ___ v ___, that is an opinion. Not in the sense you may think. It's an opinion decided through litigation which means it's a powerful opinion that has been hammered out through the judicial process of a lawsuit being drawn up, and worked out in court. It could be a local, state, or federal court. Typically the ones that are most significant are federal, or ones that have come before the US Supreme Court - either because it is the federal government that is being challenged, the defendant petitions to move it to federal, or that the case has been elevated through appeals.

There are particular circumstances that determine if a case can go federal level:

"Federal court jurisdiction, by contrast, is limited to the types of cases listed in the Constitution and specifically provided for by Congress. For the most part, federal courts only hear:

Cases in which the United States is a party;

Cases involving violations of the U.S. Constitution or federal laws (under federal-question jurisdiction);

Cases between citizens of different states if the amount in controversy exceeds $75,000 (under diversity jurisdiction); and

Bankruptcy, copyright, patent, and maritime law cases.

In some cases, both federal and state courts have jurisdiction. This allows parties to choose whether to go to state court or to federal court."

Federal courts may hear cases concerning state laws if the issue is whether the state law violates the federal Constitution.

In the case of Roe v Wade, the attorney's filed to the Supreme Court since the argument was that the state law was a violation of a federal law - specifically the 14th amendment assertion of right to privacy. That is what determines the jurisdiction in this case.

RvW was decided in 1973 with a 7-2 ruling in favor of Roe's right to privacy and ultimately right to choose how to treated her pregnancy. Why hasn't it been turned into law? Obvious reasons over the years include what party is in power in executive, congressional, or even judicial circles. Right now though we have a D in the executive and congress, but something many are overlooking is the critically important and understates judicial branch - which holds significant changes Trump installed.

Also regarding congressional, though there is a stronger hold on the house (even with 3 vacancies), the senate is just barely D majority with 50 R, 48 D and 2 independent as shown in the charts below. The two Independent Senators, Bernie Sanders of Vermont and Angus King of Maine, caucus with the Democrats which brings it 50/50 and the US VP - Harris (D) in this case - is the President of the senate and ultimately serves as a tie breaker for votes as well as situations like this even divide of party members. Were the VP a republican than republicans would still have a senate majority.

I will dive more into what's going on with the senate and why even with a D majority it isn't where it needs to be as it's a bit less straight forward.

So how the hell are abortion rights being challenged? Why aren't the all powerful democrats doing anything?!

Well, they are and have been doing a lot - and I urge you in moments when you are frustrated by feeling as though "dems aren't doing anything" to dig deeper to understand how our government operates. It's very clear there is a poor comprehension of our civics system by the general population which is why I'm using this as an opportunity to not only inform but also to learn more myself. I was educated primarily in Texas public education system. I was privileged enough to have decent teachers, but there is still much to learn. I'm doing research as I write this. I've already learned a lot. Come learn with me!

Alright, you're on board with learning more? Great choice! Let's get into it.

So with dem control of executive and congressional branch, all that is left is judicial.

"Trump appointed 54 federal appellate judges in four years, one short of the 55 Obama appointed in twice as much time."

Trump also had a major influence on the nation’s highest court. The three Supreme Court justices he appointed – Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh and Amy Coney Barrett – are the most by any president since Ronald Reagan (who appointed four) and the most by any one-term president since Herbert Hoover

Donald Trump has appointed and the Senate has confirmed 220 Article III federal judges through November 1, 2020, his fourth year in office.

The average number of federal judges appointed by a president through November 1 of their fourth year in office is 200.

Judges are supposed to be neutral impartial parties who use only what is presented in court and through the judicial process (which involves looking at current standing laws) to determine their decisions in court instead of using their personal opinion or political sway to inform them. However, as we saw all too often, trump was not interested in impartiality. He was interested in control, asserting his own personal opinion, even on occasion insisting he himself as president had more control than the constitution actually allows. So with that conflict and the fact he installed so many judges really makes huge impact on the judicial branch of our government. Since every branch is supposed to be fair and equal this causes a lot of road block when one branch is neither fair nor equal. You can't simply use the other two the gain up on the third - though in this case that would be convenient for dems, it would be much less convenient when the parties were reversed. It's also important to acknowledge the reality that D are not always impartial either - which again we will get to after judicial chat - nor are all R unfair. This can be a hard pill to swallow, even for me. Reality is not always easy to accept.

So of course appointments made by trump, of which there were many, can not be trusted to actually be acting in good faith, but in favor of personal or political interests (which also often come down to personal interest of a financial persuasion). When judges are not impartial, they may make decisions that ultimately contradict what was presented in court or what the law of the land says. Typically if a hearing with the Senate Judiciary Committee (you can see an example here of the first day of Amy Comey Barrett's hearing day 1/3) determines that there is a conflict of interest or that they are illgitimate, then ideally a judge will be blocked from appointment. This clearly also depends on the makeup and impartiality of the Senate and thus the Committee. The Committee will debate and vote on whether or not to confirm every nomination made by a President. (it used to require 3/5 of the senate or 60 votes but since 2017 only requires a "simple majority" or 51 votes for confirmation)

I want to take a quick aside here and go a little philosophical in understanding judicial impartiality, because I hope it will help you have some perspective on how it's an inherently difficult matter. Ultimately the court's impartiality comes down to checks/balances and faith. Not religious faith, but faith in humanity and honesty. Trusting that there is no hidden motive or lies or manipulation at play. We tend to have to rely heavily on the checks and balances part since faith in humanity can be easily manipulated with lobbying and politicians eagerness to look bipartisan for popularity in elections (appealing as more bipartisan is considered a way of winning over more votes like centrists and those just left and right of it). Checks and balances allows oversight of the 3 branches over one another and attempting to keep the scales balanced in order to prevent any one branch being too powerful and ultimately to avoid the US being something more like a monarchy - which was a primary goal at the time of forming the constitution and government since it is what we had fought to escape in the first place.

"So judges aren't allowed their 1st amendment rights?!"

Humans are merely humans no matter what title they have or role they play and humans are inherently flawed and partial. Nobody is perfect and some make mistakes as well as bad faith decisions for ulterior motives (could be a matter of loyalty to well funded lobbyists or even general unchecked and ultimately supported ignorance or a power grab). After and throughout checks and balances, that is where the faith part comes in that we hope we can trust judges to put their personal opinion aside and go with what the evidence presented in court and the law and super precedents tell them. We trust the Committee to do their due diligence in researching nominees and asking them tough questions. Realistically everyone can and likely will have some kind of opinion on any major issue, so it is not that anyone expects a justice to not have a personal opinion, only that they not use it to determine their decision in court. So, say i was a judge looking at a defendant accused of a civil rights infringement and i personally felt that they were guilty but there was no or not enough "valid" evidence to prove it, I couldn't assert they are guilty just based off my own opinion. I would have to depend on the evidence shown in court proving that it has infringed on precedents or existing law.

(All the appointments made by trump can be viewed more in detail here.)

"BLAHBLAHBLAH WHAT ABOUT THE SUPREME COURT"

It would be too tumultuous for me to dig into each of the 3 Supreme Court judge appointments by trump in regards to current issues around Roe v Wade, so I'm going to focus on one that is likely most relevant in particular: Amy Coney Barrett. Barrett was an appointment made when Ruth Bader Ginsburg's passing caused a vacancy in the court. (Why didn't she retire under Obama? The Senate was GOP controlled which made the odds of a pro-choice appointment being confirmed low). RGB was well known for being a strong advocate for the right to choose and for a long time was a stronghold in the court to ensure Roe v Wade was upheld. Since trump wouldn't want to lose too many votes from women and allies to women, he made the clear choice to appoint a woman which is what i would call performative in the case that though Barrett is a woman she does not particularly stand on the side of women's rights.

In day two of Barrett's confirmation hearing, Senator Klobuchar honed in on Barrett's opinions regarding Roe v Wade - especially as to whether it is considered what is called a "super precedent", an important matter when talking about codification. Klobuchar makes it clear that Barrett has said she finds Brown v BoE to be a super precedent despite the Supreme Court never impressing that opinion, but refuses to consider Roe v Wade a super precedent despite that being a Supreme Court opinion. Barrett's argument is that "scholarly literature" she has read has asserted it is not a super precedent because calls for its overrule has never ceased, where as cases such as Brown v Board "nobody questions anymore". Klobuchar digs in again asking if US v Virginia Military is a "super precedent" and Barrett refuses to answer - or as she phrases it "grade" - because it wasn't one of the cases Barrett spoke about in an article she had written.

After Klobuchar asked Barrett if Roe v Wade is a super precedent, Barrett asked Klobuchar how the Senator defines a super precedent. Reasonably so, Klobuchar - who is a senator and not a judge - scoffs and puts that responsibility back on Barrett who was nominated to be a Supreme Court judge. Barrett obliges and asserts a definition that she uses is of (supposedly not conservative) ONE scholarly opinion which depends on a case being "so well settle that no political actors and no people seriously push to overrule"

In a scholarly opinion in 2006 by Michael J Gerhardt at University of North Carolina School of Law defined a super precedent in many ways one being "decisions whose correctness is no longer a viable issue for courts to decide; it is no longer a matter on which courts will expend their limited resources."

However:

in the Roberts hearings, Charles Fried, a prominent conservative legal scholar at Harvard, agreed explicitly that Roe was a superprecedent. As solicitor general under President Ronald Reagan, Mr. Fried had asked the court to overturn Roe. But testifying on behalf of Judge Roberts, he said that Roe had become a super-duper precedent that would not and should not be overturned, because it was reaffirmed in 1992 and extended in subsequent decisions protecting gay rights and the right to die.

Here is a good example of what happens in academia and why i take "scholarly research" with a heap of salt since I have experience in doing scholarly research. When you are doing research, your audience is trusting that you have run through all the hard work of researching both sides of a specific matter - not just looking up opinions based on whether they are from a conservative or a liberal as that is not supposed to be what determines their opinion on any particular matter.

You are supposed to be actually looking into all the differing opinions on the specific subject matter. While it does help to have a context of the profile of the one giving the opinion, it is the evidence they present in their argument that is what should be prioritized in research. The audience is also trusting that the sources the researcher uses are valid, researched, and impartial and that any studies they use are peer reviewed and use proper methodology and are also impartial without any sway from funders. Since many academic resources that would elaborate on these details are often gatekept through paywalls or language or other accessibility barriers, it can be difficult for the general population to do their own research - the majority of which do not have access for one reason or another - they are left with nothing but to choose to have faith the researcher they are reading did their job earnestly.

Barrett focusing on opinions from scholars (actually it seems she is more dependent on one particular scholar's opinion - Gerhardt as seen in notes 128-132) based on whether or not they are typically conservative scholars is basing it on an irrelevant matter when she should have been taking on all opinions about super precedents and digging into comparing and contrasting them based on whether or not they hold water. It seems more like she sought a defense for her pre-determined opinion and insulated it from challenge by excluding any other assertions despite their significance. She ultimately failed at her responsibility as a researcher.

On Wednesday 9/2/21, the Supreme Court voted 5-4 to not block Texas SB8, a decision that weakens Roe v Wade.

Now this has been a very long form way of spelling out just SOME of the impact that trump has had on the judicial branch. I want to now go back to 2016 when he was elected, and try to extrapolate why what happened in that election was a serious failure in regards to those responsible for casting their votes: The People.

"We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."

"We the people" is every single resident and/or citizen of the nation at any time. The constitution is essentially a contract drawn up between every single one of us including those born and raised here, those who move here, those who's communities were here before the formation of the nation, and those who may be a citizen but living elsewhere. The diversity of The People in every faucet of human life makes this document necessarily complicated and amendable. In consequence the way in which our government is also complicated but also amendable. One matter that has been a point of contention since the dawning of the nation is the right to vote.

Who could vote & When (.):

1776: white men over 21 who owned land

1870 Racial barriers eliminated tho 15th is not enforced by states

1920: white women can vote

1924: Native american's given voting rights

1964: Civil Rights Act - all above 21y/o may vote regardless of identifiers such as race - ensures Black people's right to vote

1971: Voting age lowered to 18

1984: Accessibility extended to disabled americans by setting accessibility standards

In between all of these are other matters that challenged the accessibility to voting for one population or another such as literacy tests, naturalization, and polling taxes. Many of the challenges were directly challenging to People of Color particularly Black Women. To this day there are still many who must fight to assert their right - a right that should never be denied, never be thought of as less than inherent. Access is less a concern for the wealthy and well to do as their needs are never on the line the way it is for people who are poor, Black, disabled, immigrant, or even just have a primary language other than English.

For those of us who have never had to fight to utilize our right to vote in our life have too often shown that we do not respect the power in this right. Or rather know exactly how powerful it is and choose to use that power in a destructive way because we aren't getting our faves. For the first many many years I was eligible to vote, I refused to at all because I do not like how our government and politicians conducts themselves. As soon as I learned about the filibuster I was so pissed I didn't want to partake at all. Have I be impacted by this personally? To an effect, but not in a way that impacts my life significant enough for me to really notice. But in congruence with other privileged decisions not to vote, it has certainly impacted many lives. In a nation where communities are still fighting to have the law meant to protect them properly enforced, it is entirely a privilege abused to choose not to vote.

Though I was 18 in 2007, 2016 I cast my first vote.

Why? Because it was finally looking as though I may face personal consequences if I didn't. Prior to 2016 i wasn't worried bc there was obama, i wasn't old enough to vote when bush was up for relection and seeing him win again embittered me further. by the time I was 18, I saw how unreliable 3rd party was despite my parents being all in that gambit, and otherwise it all felt like nobody was paying attention to the issues only on popularity contests. All i thought of though was my perspective on the matter. It was all me-centric, my choice to withhold from voting in any election. When trump started to look less like a joke and actually got traction, I saw my neighbors trump signs and i looked at where i was in life. I had also began to actually do the work and stop letting apathy guide my decisions, but to rather listen to my humanity and my responsibility as my neighbor's neighbor.

Quite literally. At the time my neighbor was a Black woman. I only spoke to her once and it was when she came by to selflessly make sure I was going to be ok when our landlord was kicking us out to sell the place out from under our feet - something I hadn't even considered doing yet seemed like second nature for her to do (to be fair i was struggling to find a place but i've no idea about her life). I wish i had gotten her name and stayed in touch, it's kind-hearted people like that that are hard to come by. I'm still working on being as selfless.

I was and am proud to have not only voted in 2016, but for my first vote to have been for a woman. I was scared and for someone other than myself for once in 2016. I had high hopes for Clinton based on name recognition and basic common sense.

Humans are not perfect. Nor are they inherently humble.

Trump encouraged arrogance among the most ignorant leaning right. Sanders encouraged arrogance in the most ignorant leaning left. Clinton seemed to always get the most dramatic fire though from both sides, which signaled to me some kind of mess was going on. My own parents tried to sell me on Sanders, but by this point I had a better concept of how to properly research and untangle the mythologies that were parroted by my own parents about Clinton. Even when I proved their parroted lies wrong they were unwilling to concede, only to move the goal post or deflect.

Now, I get to my point.

Which is to really smack upside the head of anyone who chose not to vote in 2016, everyone who is left or liberal but voted for trump, everyone who wrote in someone else. If trump hadnt made it in as POTUS, paired with the republican majority senate, the landscape of the judicial branch would not have faced such a conservative shift, it wouldn't have given mcconnell so much influence, it wouldn't have resulted in the pandemic being so much worse than it needed to be. Many lives would have been spared. You can only blame the government for so long until you realize we are the government, we install the government, and we hold power we must use wisely. We the People.

Many who voted for clinton have been critical of her. As we always should be critical of those we choose in any level of government. We the people hold responsibilities that build this nation from the ground up, and without adherence to those responsibilities it puts other's rights in danger. When we decide that something doesn't matter that much to us or weighing it against the consequences we may personally face - you're failing in your responsibility to your neighbor who is likely doing far more justice to you than you are extending to them.

Yes my white people i look at you.

Yes my white men I look at you.

Yes my white queers I look at you.

Yes my white degree holders I look at you.

Yes white youth I look at you where I once was. When I was younger and arrogant and naive and apathetic and bitter and I let all that guide my choices instead of my concern for the neighbor who was looking out for me.

I still matter in the formation and function of tomorrow's government and I'm going to make sure I let my impact be constructive for all my neighbors who have extended such courtesy to me by not shirking my main duty to make an informed vote in every election i may partake in from local to national.

The differences among us in this nation may seemingly tend to fall along party lines, what the real metric is:

Do you give a fuck outside your own home?

Or is it just about what you want, what you think, what you feel? Nothing in this nation is just involving you or your bestie or your family, we're in this together whether we like it or not. Trust me as someone who struggles daily to find the humanity in others, I know how toxic that can be to your perspective when you give into it. Believe in benefit of the doubt, believe in change, believe in your power to do good for others. Believe and invest in your humanity.

While i can be mad at conservative votes for trump that was to be expected. I'm far more disappointed in the right AND DUTY to vote being given up by so many on the left simply because their fave didn't make it to the finals. That is not how establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, or secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity. AOC and Pressley and Porter did not make it where they are by their supportive constituents abdicating their right to vote.

I accept my faults in never having voted before 2016 even in local elections. It was stupid and selfish and 2016 woke me up to that reality. You don't go from 0 to trump overnight. Do you accept your fault in not voting in 2016 when one of the most detrimental candidates was running and won?

#education #politics #abortion #roe v wade #judges #executive #judicial #congress #senator #senate #vote #voting #preamble #constitution #law #amendment #rights #civil rights #black lives matter and we need to act like it #dont use your vote as a petty bite-back. use it wisely. not everyone has the privilege #apathy is a drug. detox now. #trump #clinton #obama #mcconnell #history #right to vote #power #legislation #amy coney barrett

[aspoonofsugar]

Johan, Tenma and Nina: “I am You and You are Me”

Hello anon!

Thank you for the ask!

In order to properly analyze Johan though, rather than focusing only on his relationship with Tenma, I think it is important to explore his relationship and foiling with Nina as well, so I hope you won’t mind if in this meta I explore her too.

As a matter of fact, I would say that Tenma, Nina and Johan are the three main characters of Monster and Nina and Tenma’s respective relationships with Johan are equally important to the final outcome and to define who Johan is.

I would also add that it has been a while since I read Monster and even if I will reread some parts for the meta, I am sure I’ll forget many details and subplots which might have added something to this analysis.

This meta will be divided into four sections.

- The first will explore the relationship between Johan and Nina/Tenma and how the picture books convey it.

-The second will say what Johan’s symbolical meaning is within the story.

-The third will be an analysis on who Johan really is (at least a hypothesis).

-The fourth will be a conclusion.

PICTURE BOOKS: TENMA AND NINA’S RELATIONSHIP WITH THE MONSTER

In order to better flash out the relationships between Johan and others I will use the picture books mentioned in the story. I have already talked a little of these books in this meta:

The pictures books which are shown in the series are all pretty important both for the themes and for describing the relationships among the three main characters.

When it comes to Nina and Johan’s relationship, the book which mostly describes it is The Nameless Monster.

In this book there are two nameless monsters who represent the twins. They go in different directions searching for a name i.e. an identity or who they are. This symbolizes how the twins have lost their memories and don’t have strong senses of identity because of their past. However, they reach two opposite solutions. On one hand, the monster of the East who symbolizes Johan possesses a young boy and takes his name. However, in order to stay into the boy’s body he starts killing all the people close to the boy. Basically he creates a situation where, despite him having a name, nobody can use it. This is because the monster’s identity doesn’t lie in a name, but in him accepting his lack of a name (so Johan must accept his past) and in building relationships with others. On the other hand the monster of the West who symbolizes Nina accepts that he is just a nameless monster. This fits with the fact that, ironically, while Johan is always called Johan by the other characters, Nina is called either Nina or Anna and both names are true. What is important is that Nina doesn’t let her past define herself as much as Johan and that she finally accepts it and is able to forgive Johan because of it. Interestingly, the parallels between the twins and the monsters stop when it comes to the ending. As a matter of fact in the book the boy kills the other monster and so he effectively becomes a nameless monster since he lost the only person who truly knew him. However, in the series Johan never kills Nina. She and Tenma become two people he ends up not killing and so they end up saving his life and they give him a personhood by the virtue of simply knowing Johan.

Other than the Nameless Monster, three other picture books are mentioned. They are The Man with Big Eyes and the Man with the Big Mouth, The God of Peace and A Peaceful Home.

In the current meta I will not consider the last one which is mostly about Bonaparta’s redemption (it is the one about an evil magician who goes to a village to steal from the people, but ends up helping them) and is thematically linked to the idea that humans can change. I will instead focus on the other three.

I have already shared some thoughts on the book The Nameless Monster above, so I will now focus on The God of Peace.

While The Nameless Monster is important for Nina and Johan’s foiling, The God of Peace is important for Tenma and Johan’s relationship.

It is clear that the plot of the story calls back to what happened to Tenma.

The God of Peace is a deity who tries his best to make everyone happy. What is more, he is characterized as a father figure since he gives names to the children:

However, at one point a kid called Johan gives the God a hat and the God uses a mirror for the first time. This leads to him seeing that his own reflection is a devil. He realizes that there can’t be peace with such a Devil and kills it and, in this way, kills himself as well.

This is a metaphorical representation of what happened to Tenma. As a matter of fact the story starts with this question:

Tenma decides that all lives are equal and this is why he saves Johan instead of the VIP he was ordered to operate. The result of this is literally Tenma’s rebirth as a doctor. He is glad of what he has done and with time he is able to build a hospital without corruption where lives are treated as equals. After ten years from the operation Tenma lives in a blessed world where everyone is happy and where acting in the right way only delivers good results. His second meeting with Johan destroys this illusion and shows that Tenma’s currently idyllic situation came at the cost of many lives, that his superiors died because he wished they did in front of a sleepy Johan and that if he had just gave in to the corruption of his superiors a “monster” would have died.

In other words, Johan forces Tenma to realize reality is more complex than what he would like and starts Tenma’s existential crisis. This crisis leads Tenma to doubt his own ideals (is it really true that all lives are equal? Wouldn’t Johan’s death mean a lot of others will be saved?) and to try to kill Johan multiple times. Symbolically Tenma killing Johan would mean that he gives up on his ethical code and on his mission as a doctor. It would mean that together with Johan Tenma would be killing a part of himself as well and it is this specific part of himself that has been helping so many people. In order to kill the Devil Tenma must also kill the God of Peace.

In other words, Tenma finds himself facing an impossible dilemma and in this dilemma lies the main theme of the series which is conveyed through the third picture book.

In The Man with Big Eyes and the Man with the Big Mouth, two men are offered to make a deal with the devil. The man with the big mouth accepts, while the man with the big eyes refuses. As a result, the man with the big mouth has a very enjoyable life, but towards the end of it he realizes his mistake and regrets his deal with the devil. Now, usually one would expect that the man with big eyes has the opposite destiny. He might struggle in life, but will finally be rewarded in the end. However, this is not what happens and in the end the man with big eyes is just as miserable as the man with the big mouth. He regrets not having made a deal with the devil and it is by that point that the devil returns:

After Nina hears this story she is asked this:

This is not by chance because this short-story perfectly conveys the apparently dead-end the characters are all facing.

They can either refuse to buy into the ideology that different lives have different values or accept it. If they accept it, they end up corrupted in a world which is sad and dark. However, even if they refuse it they must accept the existence of someone like Johan who openly challenges the ideas of justice and of empathy. So, what should they do? What does the story mean? What is the solution?

The short story conveys a pessimistic moral. There is no way out and in the end everyone will surrender to the devil and lose hope.

This vision is a nihilistic one and nihilism is linked to this:

It is the “vision of the doomsday” Johan keeps talking about. This scenery comes up numerous times:

The first scene is the scene you asked about. There Johan looks Schuwald in the eyes and asks him what he sees. In this scene the scenery of the doomsday does not directly appear, but Johan invokes it with his words since he describes a reality of solitude where only he and Nina existed and had no names. This is a reference to their lives starting with the Red Rose Mansion incident up until when they were found by Wolf. By this point the reader knows nothing and probably Johan too has fragmented memories, but he is talking about the Three Frogs incident where their mother gave Nina up to Bonaparta (a town out of a fairy-tale), the Red Rose Mansion massacre (many people died) and Nina and Johan’s journey towards the border (my other self and I held hands and walked...we were the only two people in the world...and we had no names). All of these experiences end up being summarized and artisticly conveyed in other moments through the imagery of the vision of the doomsday which represents the absolute end and nothingness.

Wolf (in the second scene) sees it before dying and calls it the land of the nameless.Having a name in the story is symbolic of having an identity and this means mostly that someone knows you. If nobody can’t call your name, then you do not really exist and there is no proof of your existence. Relationships with others define the person to an extent and the land of the nameless is a dimension where all these relationships are lost and the individual is alone in front of nothing. It is a place full of solitude. This landscape is symbolic of Johan’s mind and of his vision of the world.

Before going on, I will like to highlight one last thing about the picture books. I have mentioned that the book A Nameless Monster seems to be a reference to Johan and Nina’s relationship, while The God of Peace is a reference to the bond between Johan and Tenma. This is true and especially evident, but what is said in both books is true for both Nina and Tenma.

As stated above, for example, in the end Johan is saved because of his relationship with both Nina and Tenma and not just because of the one he has with his sister.

At the same time, what is said in The God of Peace is true also for Nina and not only for Tenma. After all, there is this:

Johan repeats the Devil’s gesture to both his sister and Tenma in different moments. Nina also states this:

This is a direct reference to what happens in the story since Nina claims she will kill Johan and then herself. How does the story of The God of Peace fit Nina and Johan?

It has to do with their opposite coping mechanisms.

On one hand Nina removes her most painful memories. This is why she has forgotten about the Red Rose Mansion and later on she forgets about Johan and her attempted murder of him. In this way she protects herself and her idea of being “pure” and “righteous” somehow.

This is coherent with Nina’s initial strictness about justice I have discussed here:

Basically, she goes from an idea of justice which is extremely strict and merciless to an idea of justice which is intertwined with empathy and which refuses death penalty. She is also a character who starts out not believing that a person can be redeemed and ends her arc by forgiving her brother and believing that even he can find redemption. This is her arc in a nut-shell and the chapter the Fifth Spoonful of Sugar touches all of these ideas.

And it is made clear in scenes like this:

Nina is scared that remembering her trauma will make her a monster. She needs to believe that she did not assist to any massacre and that, if she did, the event left no scar on her. This is obviously impossible and this is why when she remembers what happened she showcases an unusual violent side and even presents suicide tendencies.

On the other hand Johan attaches himself to the few memories he has and, because of his own frail identity, ends up accepting as his own even Nina’s past. Basically, Johan is so scared of losing that little sense of self that he has that he has made Nina’s memories his own.

It is telling that in the beginning both twins are so sure of their respective roles in the Red Rose Mansion case that they barely question them. Johan is sure to be the one who saw people die, while Nina is sure that she is the child who waited for Johan safely at home. This can suggest that the two siblings had developed specific roles in their dynamic and that, to be more precise, Johan was the one who took upon himself the role of protecting his sister and the role of a devil, while Nina took upon herself the role of victim and of being “pure”. In short, they have both uncounsciously embraced a narrative in order to survive. However, these roles are clearly too simplicistic to describe the complexity of the situation and of both siblings and Nina’s journey is also about realizing this.

In summary, Nina has been using a coping mechanism thanks to which she has been able to repress everything negative that happened to her. Her brother is the link to these events, so her quest to find him and to understand him leads to her uncovering her lost memories.

This is why the metaphor of the God of Peace and of the Devil fits Nina and Johan as it does Tenma and Johan. Both Nina and Tenma were able to live peaceful lives at the price of forgetting or not realizing the truth about Johan. Johan is in other words a Jungian Shadow to the both of them and this is why they can’t kill him without self-destroying.

To finish this section, let’s underline that the three picture books we discussed have all grim endings and that all these endings were negated or subverted by the main story. In the end Johan did not kill Tenma and Nina and so he could continue to exist and did not become a nameless monster. Nina and Tenma did not kill Johan and so they did not kill themselves. Finally the Devil’s tempation was avoided.

AN UNINTELLIGIBLE DEVIL: JOHAN AS AN UNCOMFORTABLE TRUTH

I don’t think that your struggle to understand Johan is by chance because all in all I don’t think Johan is a character made to be completely understood. Rather he is a character written to challenge both the readers and the characters to understand him. After all, the essence of Monster is the search for Johan. By this, I mean both the physical search for Johan since he needs to be stopped, but also the search of what made Johan Johan. Why is Johan the way he is? What motivates him? Was he born a monster or did he become one? And why?

The point of Johan is that there is no answer or maybe there are so many answers that it is difficult to find a definite one. This is why both Nina and Tenma in their investigations keep discovering things and offering answers only for those answers to be readily subverted.

For example, when Tenma discovers about Kinderheim 511 he believes that Johan has become who he is because of the ruthless mistreatment he received there. However, he soon realizes that even before that place Johan had already killed. That said, this does not mean that Kinderheim 511 had no effect on Johan whatsoever or that he is not a victim of that place. Johan is a victim, but the way he acts can’t be explained or excused with his victimhood.

Later on, Nina suspects that her brother has a double personality who forces him to commit crimes. However, this turns out to be false as well. This does not mean, though, that the lines Nina has read and which say “Look at me! Look at me! The monster inside of me has gotten stronger” are not true for Johan. They are and, even if Johan does not have any double personality, he still has an identity problem which is at the root of his behaviour.

Finally, both Nina and Tenma think that the root of Johan’s trauma is that he was given by his mother to Bonaparta, was brought to the Red Rose Mansion and assisted at the deaths of many people. However, even this explanation turns out to be false since it was Nina and not Johan the one who saw the massacre. That said, even in this case, their mother’s choice and the massacre at the mansion have had a huge impact on Johan, but not in the way everyone expects. What is more, even in that case, his behaviour can’t be excused and can’t be completely explained since Nina went through similar experiences and reacted differently.

In other words, to quote a character from another franchise:

In short, what is upsetting about Johan is that he does not let the characters or the readers find simple solutions and his presence brings up distressing truths. What is “evil”? How do you behave in front of someone who embodies the essence of evilness?

This is why Johan is clearly associated throughout the narrative to the idea of the Devil, while Tenma is clearly associated to the idea of God. Where Johan kills and destroys, Tenma helps and cures.

This is why their fight is symbolic of the battle between good and evil and at the same time, it can’t be solved with one killing the other. As a matter of fact Johan does not want to kill Tenma, but wants to kill what Tenma believes in. At the same time, Tenma killing Johan would mean the defeat of his ideals.

Basically, Johan is not a character easy to empathize with. Don’t get me wrong, people will surely empathize, but even in that case, I think they will mostly empathize with fragments of his story, rather than with the entirety of it and with all its contradictions. This is because he is written in a way which makes him difficult to process.

Maybe it is because of this that, in the end, the fact Nina and Tenma are finally able to empathize with Johan is something which turns out incredibly important for their development and the focus stays on them in those moments to the point that we never get to properly see Johan’s POV and how he reacts to this empathy. To be honest, we can’t even be sure that Nina and Tenma are right in their conclusions even if the story highly implies so. As a matter of fact Nina and Tenma’s moments of realization are moments which present Johan filtered through their own eyes and them finally understanding the “monster” lets them finally understand themselves.

In Nina’s case:

She arrives at the conclusion that if she had just forgiven her brother back then and probably seeked help, she could have avoided everything that happened later. She reaches the conclusion after seeing Bonaparta’s drawings, remembering the man’s words and remembering Johan’s tears in the past and imagining his present ones.

Once she reaches this understanding of her brother she is ready to forgive him and she actually wants to. Nina’s arc is great because it shows that forgiveness does not equal redemption. Sometimes there is redemption without forgiveness (like in Bonaparta’s case since it is implied Johan has not forgiven him), while sometimes there is forgiveness without redemption (Johan has done nothing to amend, but Nina still forgives him).

In Tenma’s case, his final understanding of Johan comes in the very last chapter and it is this:

I would like to highlight that this scene in itself is ambiguous. Is Tenma dreaming? Or is Johan truly talking with him? It is not clear, but in the first case we can say Tenma has finally understood the truth behind the mystery Johan is, while in the second case we have Johan finally opening up about what hurt him the most.

In both Nina and Tenma’s cases, it is important that their understanding of Johan is radicated in their understanding of themselves. Nina is Johan’s sister and so she must understand him as a sister, she must untie and solve all the ambiguities and misunderstanding of their relationship and uncover the past they share. Tenma is the doctor who saved Johan’s life and clearly Johan has laced on him as to a father figure, even if in a twisted way. Because of this, it makes sense that in the end he is the one who realizes how much his mother’s choice has affected Johan.

In other words, Johan is a mirror of both Nina and Tenma and his elusive nature is what keeps the story together thematically. The story asks what a monster is and if the answer were simple the story would not be so captivating.

In the end both Tenma and Nina “defeat” the devil, but they do so not by killing him, but by refusing his nihilistic logic. They have managed to free themselves from the devil’s constant tempation. Even if the life of the man with big eyes is difficult the only hope lies in fighting against evilness and injustice through a correct behaviour. If one leaves that path they will only suffer and lose themselves.

This is also why the final image is so powerful:

Johan disappears once again and we, as readers, can only hope he will use the second chance he was given in a positive way and not to start another cycle. That said, this is something we can’t be completely sure of as we can’t be sure of evilness completely disappearing from the world. What we can be sure of is that it is necessary to resist it.

“LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! THE MONSTER INSIDE OF ME IS GETTING STRONGER!”: THE EMPTINESS BEHIND THE SCARY MONSTER

Let’s consider this:

This scene shows Wolf giving Johan his name and how he indeed was inspired by the Picture Book the boy had with him.

This is important because it shows how Johan’s identity ends up being strictly intertwined with those picture books. In a sense, Johan is the fruit of those books since he ends taking the name “Johan” used by different characters in those books, repeats the books’ lines in an obsessive way and even ends up unconsciously reproducing the stories in the real life. He does so by repeating specific lines and latching onto situations which resemble the ones he read in the books. For example, he identifies with the nameless monster of the books and tries to cope with the emptiness he feels inside by joining different families only to leave them and discard them once they are not able to fill the emptiness he feels. He identifies Nina as his other self, just like the Devil and the God of Peace of the books and repeats the devil’s lines to her. Once he finds Tenma aka an incredibly altruistic and selfless person who ends up saving his life he starts unconsciously replicating the same dynamic with him. He tempts people and manipulates them like the Devil of The Man with Big Eyes and the Man with the Big Mouth. It is actually interesting that Johan ends up always identifying with the devil instead than with other characters, but this can be partially explained by the fact that devils and monsters are the most recurrent characters in the books. This might be why Johan aka a child with a very frail sense of self ended up projecting on them specifically as characters appearing often and being constant. This might also be why he specifically latched on the name Johan which is often used in the books. In general, he develops a vision of the world which is pessimistic and nihilistic and which is the one conveyed by the book he was taught to study and to read.

This is important because in this way Johan becomes the heir of Bonaparta’s vision before his change of heart, while Nina who was shown a glimpse of love and of hope becomes the heir of Bonaparta’s ideals conveyed in A Peaceful Home.

What is interesting is that Johan’s emulation of the picture books became so severe specifically because of him not having a strong enough sense of self hence his necessity to latch on to things and to other people to define himself.

This is made clear since when his mother had to choose one of her children over the other. In the end, one of the reasons why his mother’s choice left such a huge impact on him was because he was not sure that his mother really intended to save him instead of his sister. Behind this doubt hides the fear of not really existing as an individual and of simply being a part of a set to the point that even his own mother is not able to distinguish him from his sister. This is a feeling which could probably be born because of the horrific childhood he and Nina had. As a matter of fact they were not given names and were treated like weapons by the people around them. What is more, the twins only had each other when it came to important relationships between peers.

This frail sense of self combined with the very strong bond Johan has with his sister leads to him confusing her memories for his. When it comes to that, this is interesting:

This is a glimpse of what used to happen in Kinderheim 511 and it is shown that some experiments there damaged people’s memories. This might be why Johan lost his memories and why in an attempt not to forget his sister he ended up making her past his. All in all, it is not clear when exactly Johan started confusing his memories with hers and it might have been before Kinderheim 511, during it or even after Nina shot him. The point is that the scene above shows Johan’s strong wish not to forget the person whom he defined himself through and how this wish is at the root of him twisting his memories.

What is interesting is that throughout the years Johan started reproducing a series of crimes which can be connected to his own trauma and to Nina’s one. On one hand he started killing parental figures and eliminated all the people who cared for the siblings through their journey. This is a response to the betrayal he felt towards his mother who gave up on one of her children and later on left them both behind. On the other hand he started organizing massacres to emulate what happened at the Red Rose Mansion.

These repetitive actions give birth to a pattern Johan himself is unable to leave. He is trapped in his own past and so he keeps reproducing it together with the fairy tales he used to read as a child.

This behaviour underlines a contradiction Johan has. On one hand he wants to develop relationships with others and this is why he keeps searching for new parental figures. On the other hand he is not able to properly have relationships which are not manipulative or exploitative. All in all he is never able to make “the monster inside of him” rest. This restless monster who keeps getting stronger is not really his violent side, as Nina thinks at first, but it is nothing more than the emptiness he feels because he does not really understand who he is. He can’t give any meaning to his life and so he keeps searching for one, does not find it, accepts nihilism and repeats. In a sense, he fails in his search because he has already given up on it before starting it. He has already accepted the vision of the doomsday.

CONCLUSION: GOD, DEVIL AND HUMAN

This analysis showed how Tenma, Johan and Nina are all connected and how there is a constant foiling among all three of them.

1) Tenma and Johan represent respectively the “God” and the “Devil” meaning that their respective philosophies challenge each other and embody “goodness” and “evilness”.

2) Nina and Johan embody two opposite reactions to a traumatic past. Nina completely removed the bad things, while Johan stayed attached to them to the point that he made his even Nina’s. None of these reactions is completely correct and this is why Nina went through a painful journey of self-discovery to retrieve her memories.

3) Finally Nina and Tenma are two people who start parallel journeys to find Johan and end up saving each other in these journeys.

As a matter of fact Tenma saves Nina in the beginning when he saves Johan and prevents Nina from becoming a murderer, while Nina saves Tenma from the same fate at the end when she stops Tenma from shooting and encourages him to save her brother.

All in all, it is interesting that throughout their journey they both try to kill Johan, but are against the other doing it as if they could see clearly that this action would negatively affect them:

So, in a sense Nina and Tenma too are mirrors and they can see their own pain and confusion in the other.

This last point is interesting also when it comes to the teological motif concerning Tenma. As a matter of fact Tenma represents God within the story, but at the same time his struggle and indeciveness are incredibly human. He never loses himself, but he is about to many times. So Tenma is both “god” and “human”. We can also say that he is a specific ideal incarnated in a human who has to face the fact that this ideal is not so easy to follow and to apply in the human world with all its contradictions. This is also true because of society incarnated by Lunge (a justice blind to the truth) and Eva (the corruption within society). It is not by chance that because of these two characters Tenma ends up becoming a suspect and is persecuted by society when he himself is trying to protect it. In a sense, Johan is able to act so freely precisely because he acts in Tenma’s shadow. Tenma ends up being Johan’s opposite when it comes to his relationship with others because while in the end very few people are left knowing about Johan, a lot of people know Tenma’s name. These relationships (or lack of in Johan’s case) are for both characters double edged swords. On one hand Tenma is initially suspected because of his relationships with others. For example his relationship with his superiors and with Eva puts him in a bad light. He is a man with positive and negative bonds and this is why he can be suspected of a crime, while Johan can’t and avoids imprisonment because of this. On the other hand Tenma’s relationships are also what saves him multiple times and in the end bonds are also what defeats Johan (the bond between a father and a son) and what saves him (Nina and Tenma’s bond with him).

In short, Tenma is a God made human, while Johan is a victim turned into a devil. Then who exactly is Nina? As @hamliet​ commented, Nina is humanity who must choose between the two ideologies offered to her. This is why, while both Johan and Tenma remain loyal to their respective philosophies from the beginning of the story to the end, she changes.

Comparing the beginning with the end makes it clear. The story starts and ends with Johan asking a person to shoot him in the head and with Tenma operating and saving Johan. The variable is Nina who starts the story shooting her brother and ends it by encouraging Tenma to save him. This is particularly beautiful because in the end it is thanks to the “human” aka Nina that “god” aka Tenma does not lose himself and wins. In the end the fight between these two forces is decided not by who is stronger, but by the people each one of them is able to influence.

Thank you for the ask! I am sorry for this very long ramble and I hope it is clear enough!

#naoki urasawa's monster #monster #monster meta #naoki urasawa's monster meta #johan liebert #kenzo tenma #nina fortner #anna liebert #my meta #asksfullofsugar #anonymous

[now-i-understand-that-reference]

I just remembered having this stashed somewhere in my library... It’s a movie dossier for Swing Kids (1993), featuring info about the cast, the production, and some nice colour photos. It’s pretty nice :)

Thought I’d share and leave a link to the pdf scan if anyone’s curious, but since the text is in French, I’ll leave a translation for the parts related to the production under the cut hoping that my knowledge of French is still enough after decades of not speaking it. I’ll leave out the historical background and the cultural information as you can probably read that online whenever you want :)

You can find the pdf here

PRODUCTION NOTES

From the rebellion to the participation

Jonathan Marc Feldman (screenwriter):

«Can a youth rebellion lead to an authentic revolt? This is the question I asked myself when learning about the existence of this protest movement, which was born under the nazi regime, and which was called The Swing Kids. These young people appeared to me as the symbol of the strength of the human spirit: if a revolt was able to express itself in such an oppressive context, are not all hopes allowed?»

Jonathan Marc Feldman’s script evokes the friendship between two seventeen-year-old adolescents, Peter Muller and Thomas Berger, both firmly determined not to enlist in the Hitler Youth. When circumstances beyond their control eventually force them to join the “JH”, the two boys claim they will resist their hold: they will be “JH” by day and “Swing Kids” by night. But is it possible to belong to a totalitarian movement without submitting to it with body and soul?

Robert Sean Leonard (Peter Muller):

«SWING KIDS begins in 1939, before the invasion of Czechoslovakia and Poland. Peter, like many young people, does not have a sharp political conscience, although he guesses what is happening in the country. He is divided between the swing, which allows him to “have a blast”, and the pride of serving his homeland by submitting. These two temptations are equally powerful, and it is only after discovering the true nature of nazism that Peter will make the right choice.»

Christian Bale (Thomas Berger):

«SWING KIDS is also, and above all, a movie about friendship. Peter and Thomas make divergent choices that will gradually distance them from each other. Thomas does not resist the seduction of the Hitler Youth, he lets the Party’s ideology corrupt him and becomes a cog of the nazi machine. But in the end, the friendship that ties him to Peter will win.»

The origins of the project

After discovering the existence of the Swing Kids in an obscure historical review, Jonathan Marc Feldman undertook in-depth personal research and collected solid documentation about this movement. Passionate about the subject, he quickly communicated his enthusiasm to producers Mark Gordon and John Bard Manulis, who dedicated four years to the development of the script. «It was clear that it could have given rise to a great movie» Gordon points out, «it was a rare opportunity to make a historical movie that speaks to today’s young people» adds Manulis, who personally funded the development of the script. «The Swing Kids looked for their identity in music and dance, just like the following generations, and it was fascinating to observe the contrast between the social oppression they were experiencing and the - incredibly free - form of expression they had adopted».

Jonathan Marc Feldman:

«The young Germans were attracted by the swing because it represented a new, wild, radically original sound. The swing of the years 38-39 possessed a violence that we can clearly perceive in the famous “Sing, Sing, Sing” by Benny Goodman. Moreover, this music was strictly forbidden, for its Jewish and black origin. The mere fact of listening to it was a political challenge.

These young people were fervent anglophiles, who walked with an umbrella at any season, wore Anthony Eden hats, puffy trousers, Scottish coats. They dressed with great elegance and let their hair grow like Hollywood cowboys. Rejected and despised by the good Germanic society, they were the hippies and the punks of their generation».

To make SWING KIDS, Mark Gordon and John Bard Manulis chose Thomas Carter, prestigious television director, winner of several Emmies, who here signs his first movie.

Thomas Carter:

«I immediately liked the SWING KIDS script. It illuminates a reality that few people know. It is both the painting of a generation and the story of a teenager faced with a painful choice that will make him a man».

John Bard Manulis:

«Thomas Carter is very interested in history and how it repeats itself. He captured all the dimensions of the subject, its nuances, its emotional substrate, and staged it brilliantly».

Filming

Mark Gordon Carter, co-producer Harry Benn and chief decorator Allan Cameron visited five countries in ten days before picking Czechoslovakia. The movie was filmed in Prague and in the Barrandos Studios.

Allan Cameron (chief decorator):

«The centre of Prague, which dates back to the Middle Ages, is of great beauty. There are still cobbled streets, beautiful buildings spared from the bombings, remarkable textures and colors. Another advantage: the architectural diversity of the Old Town makes it possible to recreate almost any city in Central Europe».

The main sets of the movie were built at Barrandov Studios, which are among the largest in Europe. Founded in 1931, they offer technical means and financial conditions that seduce international producers: in parallel with the filming of SWING KIDS, Lucasfilm produced the series “Young Indiana Jones” and BBC produced a new version of “The Trial”.

Other big sets were built at Barrandov, and about sixty interiors and exteriors were made with the help of a small British team surrounded by many local technicians. An old 18th century riding school served as the setting for the scene of the Hitler Youth gathering; a residence in the embassy district became the apartment of Thomas’s rich parents; the Prague Library was converted into the SS headquarters and a vast theatre room was redecorated from the top to the bottom for the spectacular sequences of the Bismarck Café.

Casting

In parallel with the location hunting, Carter and his producers started the casting operations by selecting Robert Sean Leonard, one of the protagonists of DEAD POETS SOCIETY, for the role of Peter.

Thomas Carter:

«Robert is an outstanding actor, both for his gifts and for his modesty and availability. We couldn’t have made a better choice. I personally consider him one of the best actors I’ve ever worked with».

To prepare for the role of Peter, which required his daily presence on the set during the ten weeks of filming, Leonard began by reading several studies about Nazi Germany. «But soon I understood that my character had no knowledge of how the Third Reich operated. So I focused my research on the swing, by listening to countless recordings of the great artists of this era. This dance rediscovers the madness of the Twenties and anticipates the promiscuity of the Sixties. Very physical, it entails a huge expenditure of energy and demands great vitality».

For the role of Thomas Berger, the producers hired Christian Bale, revelation of EMPIRE OF THE SUN, and for that of Arvid, Frank Whaley, one of the main performers of Oliver Stone’s THE DOORS. Barbara Hershey (crowned in Cannes for SHY PEOPLE and A WORLD APART) was chosen to play Frau Muller, Peter’s mother.

The other performers were selected with special care, in Austria, The Netherlands, Wales and the United States. «The casting was hard and required a lot of work» concludes Thomas Carter, «I am particularly pleased with it, as it has allowed us to rediscover the emotional atmosphere of the time».

The swing

Robert Sean Leonard and Christian Bale devoted many hours to learning swing, under the guide of New York choreographer Otis Sallid, to whom we owe the dance sequences of MALCOLM X. Sallid recruited a group of Czech, English, American and French dancers, that he initiated with his assistants to the provocative rhythms of swing, jitterbug and lindy hop, and to the “degenerate” music of Benny Goodman, Count Basie and Django Reinhardt, censored by the Reich for reasons of “racial impurity”.

Jonathan Marc Feldman:

«We picked the most attractive compositions for a contemporary ear and those that the Swing Kids actually listened to, that I was able to find. Among the latter are forgotten numbers such as “Harlem”, which was very popular at the time. By working with Robert Kraft at the re-recordings, we attempted to capture the extraordinary power, vitality of this music. In its beginnings, the swing did not resemble any other form of music. Later, it became more civilized and disciplined, but in the late Thirties it was deeply subversive, captivating. Young people gave themselves to it completely, forgetting about everything else...»

#swing kids #swing kids 1993 #Robert Sean Leonard #rsl #christian bale #barbara hershey #peter muller #thomas berger #frau muller #swing kids dossier #hopefully my translation from French to English does not suck #I’m not a native speaker of either lol #love this movie

[1949coupe]

Freelance journalist and entrepreneur Tucker Benedict just wrote an open letter to Trump to remind him what it means to be American. Benedict’s message has officially set the internet on fire! Read it below:

Donald Trump,

My family immigrated to the United States of America on the third boat after the Mayflower. Our heritage precedes any records of Trumps, or Drumpfs, in America. Members of my family have served in every major conflict in US history with the exception of Iraq; your family cannot say the same. Yet, you continue to act as if you’ve sacrificed for the betterment of our country when the reality is: we don’t even know you’ve paid taxes half the time. Instead of acknowledging your past though, and honorably promising to change from a position of great entitlement, you accost service members you don’t care for, threaten democracy with attacks on the media, and worsen divides that threaten to tear America apart. Moreover, there’s a part of me that’s angry from a personal standpoint, my father founded the criminal divison of the EPA, and was the senior environmental prosecutor in the country until 2014, and whose storied career began with work on Watergate. You’ve destroyed his life’s work in under 7 months, but I’m not writing this from a position of anger or even from a personal standpoint, I’m trying to speak for a great many Americans who are understandably frightened for the future; who feel they’re watching the degradation of our way of life. This letter isn’t about me, or my feelings, but it is intended for you, Mr. President.

There’s a storm coming and as our enemies around the world lick their chops watching the division within America, we continue to charge towards a future in which we tear ourselves apart. Many of us, yourself included, seem to have forgotten what it means to be American. If our memory continues to fail and we forget entirely what being American truly means, we’ll not only lose our status as the world’s leader, we won’t deserve it anymore. This is not a world I can imagine nor that I have any desire to. Without America to serve as an eternal source of light within the darkness the world will be cast into chaos. In order to preserve what so many gave so much to obtain, we must first remember what it means to be American. While we seem hopelessly intertwined in a national, and very partisan, identity crisis we can only hope to pull out of it by remembering the lessons our founding father’s taught us all those years ago when they first defined, through their actions, what it means to be American.

Currently, there are a few misconceptions on what makes someone American; there seems to be a great deal of entitlement when considering the term. I was born a white male and a citizen of The United States of America but I don’t think that makes me an American. There seems to be a lot of controversy swirling around this notion but the reality is being born a certain way entitles me to nothing. The circumstances of birth don’t make you American, they never have, but actions do.

We earn our status as American through our actions day to day, month to month, and year to year. In doing the right thing by our loved ones, our countrymen, and ourselves we become American. There’s not flashy gesture or fancy piece of paper that can make you truly American but living the right way can; waking up and doing the right thing everyday, no matter how big or small the action, is what makes us American. It isn’t a static definition either, it’s a dynamic one just like we are as people; always changing, growing, and working towards the betterment of not only ourselves but our society as a whole. When considering how we define being American it’s worth noting those criteria.

When I voted it was in a densely populated, urban sector of Philadelphia. There were four booths for hundreds of people; many of whom were elderly and couldn’t stand for hours. It was a very telling few hours. Some of those elderly individuals struggling the most sported Make America Great Again hats. Instead of being happy at your supporter’s misfortune though I spent my day making trips to a conference room located at the back of the line hundreds of people long in order to ferry chairs to those who couldn’t stand. It wasn’t a big gesture or one that required a tremendous effort, it certainly DID NOT deserve any praise, because I knew it was merely the right thing to do for my fellow American. This attitude seems to be dying though, as we forget more and more what being American means. As I walked back and forth with chairs under each arm I watched many of my young peers barely look up from their phones; some even seemed noticeably annoyed that a fellow millennial would go out of his way to help your supporters. Make no mistake, those watching seemed to have forgotten what being American means just as much as anyone. When nobody joined in to help I was only made more aware of the change I’ve seen in my lifetime; the gradual shift many of us have noticed in our culture. It might seem subtle to some, but many have forgotten to do the right thing for no other reason than it helps another American. If this lack of support for each other continues to proliferate we’ll witness the decay of American values and worth This is something I attribute to the win at all cost/look out for yourself mentality that’s taken over politics and permeated into our culture; winning has become more important than standing up for each other. Americans used to do the right thing automatically, while many still do, others have stopped if there’s no reward or personal incentive. Americans used to help each other no matter who was President and that’s truly what made America great; our uniquely American loyalty. That loyalty, love, and solidarity saved us from the greatest threat the world has ever known, liberated Europe, and won two world wars. There’s been a change though. It’s apparent everywhere. We saw it when 23 of 24 Texas congressmen voted to deny aid when Hurricane Sandy hit, now faced with Harvey, Texans find themselves in an unfortunate position. This is merely one example of a larger problem within our society though and if this cancerous divisionist mentality continues to spread we’ll witness our downfall.

Hope is not lost though because it isn’t too late to start putting America, and each other, first again; all that’s required is remembering what made us Americans in the first place.

In school, when I was young and studying our history, I learned a great lesson; one I think is important enough to share. I learned that being an American isn’t something you obtain from being born here, or even from keeping other people out; being American is something you become through your actions and character. Defining what it meant to be an American was something our founding father’s sacrificed all that they had for.

Today, with all the modern luxuries we have it’s hard to understand being so passionate about something you’d die for it but our founders had that passion for the characteristics which would later define our nation. By fighting so fervently amongst ourselves that we forget the value of other Americans we put into jeopardy all that we have. It’s all of our duty to honor that which our founding father’s felt defined America. Honoring those traditions can mean different things to different people but all of us must find a way to honor them, every day if we are ever to truly Make America Great Again. This isn’t hard to do, it only takes remembering to do the right thing. I’m not perfect, in fact, I would consider myself the last person for anyone to take their cues from, but for me, I honor those traditions by trying to do the right thing every day to the best of my ability, whether it’s big or small, seen or unseen, noted or unnoticed. You see, if you remember to do the right thing, to treat others how you’d like to be treated, and do everything to the best of your ability, I promise everything else, all the nonsense in the media, won’t matter a single bit, because we’ll once again have a country of people who look out for one another. The alternative is unacceptable.

So Mr. President with this in mind I wanted to give you some advice for salvaging your presidency:

Tell the truth. In times of doubt, the truth is always the right answer. If lies are allowed to be believed as fact America will continue to forget that the real enemy isn’t each other, it’s those who seek to end democracy, freedom, and our way of life.

Stop defining what it means to be American from a partisan stance. You have no right. None of us do. Being American is defined by those who came before, and it’s defined by those whose examples will survive the test of time. If someone is willing to come here, work hard, abide by our laws, and protect our way of life, then you, Donald Trump, have no right to tell them they cannot be Americans. Being born to millions in New York, dodging your country’s call in its time of need, and verbally accosting service members does not make you the one to decide what it means to be an American.

Stop attacking the media. You bear a great responsibility; millions of Americans look to you for guidance and comfort during hardship. If you continue to point their anger at the media we may lose an integral pillar of democracy. If you do not you will cement your legacy as the enemy of democracy. History will condemn you.

Stop using radical Islam and immigrants as scapegoats to bring people together. We’ve seen in history scapegoats unite the masses but at great cost. Instead of pandering to the fears of your base you could teach them to accept. You’ve uniquely been able to reach the individuals that make up your base unlike any before you; you have the opportunity to take advantage of their love for you and to teach them that being American really means doing the right thing above all else. In doing this you could not only save your legacy but America as a whole.

There is a storm coming and it cannot be defeated by a divided nation; a storm that doesn’t care if you’re liberal or conservative, a storm that seeks to upend democracy, freedom, and our way of life. As Americans, we have to do the right thing even when it isn’t easy, even when there’s no reward because that’s truly what makes us Americans and if we forget that, we’ll truly be lost.

Respectfully,

Tucker Benedict.